by Jonas Saul
“Have you come up with a plausible story as to how I got paralyzed?”
Kostas nodded. “It’s in the envelope. Read it, study it. The story stays the same until Violeta is arrested in the States.” He headed for the door.
“Can you offer me an abbreviated version?”
He turned at the open door, leaned on the doorframe, and smiled.
“You were mugged on the back streets of Nafplio by a drunken group of twenty-year olds. After a few punches, you fought back. They pushed you to the ground, which accounts for your shoulder and knee injury, and knifed you in the back with a homemade knife. What do you Americans call it, a shiv? Three stab wounds to be exact, one of them severing your spinal cord, the other two cutting off any chance of you ever walking again. Then they left you for dead. How does that sound?”
“Like a nightmare.”
“Good, then it’ll work.” He pointed at the envelope. “Do some reading. The wheelchair and camera will be here soon. We have a performance to put on and I’m counting on you to be the star of the show.”
Oliver grabbed the envelope off the bed and opened it.
Kostas closed the door. The lock clicked audibly, echoing off the steel walls. An uncontrollable shudder rolled through his shoulders.
What he would do to see Violeta’s reaction when the police arrested her and Oliver stood from his wheelchair.
Maybe he would get Oliver to film that moment.
He had to consider that Oliver wouldn’t go through with it. If he didn’t, the worst that could happen would be his female officer would fly back alone, and Kostas would keep the money in his private account as it wouldn’t be needed for evidence anymore.
A part of him wished Oliver chickened out.
Kostas would be richer for it.
Chapter 20
If asked, Sarah would be one of the first to shout out how much she loved to sleep. It was comfortable, warm, and without pain.
Waking brought on the nightmare. The headache, the lost memories, the constantly moving vehicle and the deadpan stare of the lone doctor caring for her.
She rolled her head slowly to avoid increasing the pain on the inside, and found him eating some form of microwavable pasta. Today’s T-shirt was another eighties alternative band called, The Cure.
A doctor wearing a shirt like that made her smile.
He turned to her. “Ahh, you’re awake.”
“What day is it? How long was I out?”
“You’ve been asleep for almost two days now.”
“Really? How close are we to Santa Rosa?”
“We’ll be there in five hours.”
She frowned. “With a head injury, is it okay that I’m sleeping?”
The doctor wiped his hands with a napkin and swallowed what was in his mouth. “Oh yes. The myth of trying to keep people awake in case of concussion is only that, a myth. It was in the times before we had a CT scan and an MRI. Doctors in those days didn’t really know what was happening inside the skull like they do today.”
The smell of the doctor’s pasta pained her stomach. “I’m hungry. Got anything for me to eat?”
“Of course.”
The doctor got up and banged around near the front of the glorified ambulance. Sarah took in as much as she could. It was bigger than an average ambulance. Similar in size to a large UPS truck, but fitted nicely with a small sink and several cupboards filled with medication. A traveling motor home for doctors.
As the doctor warmed her food, she listened to the engine, the sounds of the road. Trust was an issue for her. How did she really know where they were? Or where they were going? Who were these people? If they were real medical personnel transporting her back to her parents, wouldn’t they have just flown her to California?
If they weren’t who they said they were, then who was she dealing with?
“Tell me something,” Sarah said.
The bell sounded on the microwave. The doctor retrieved the dish and brought it over to her. He swung a tray in place from beside her and set the bowl down on it. Then he inclined her bed and unstrapped one wrist so she could eat.
“Consommé. Good for the stomach. Now,” he rubbed his hands together, “what is it you wanted to know?”
“How come my wrists and ankles are secured to the bed?”
“I already told you that. We’re in a moving vehicle. Sudden braking, turning corners, regular movement on the road, any of those could cause the sleeping girl to roll off her bed.”
“I understand, but why the wrists and ankles? Why not a strap across my hips and thighs? I’ve been a prisoner before. This feels more like I’m a prisoner than a patient.”
The doctor turned back to his food. “It is what it is. I have no idea why you’re bound as you are. Maybe the bed you’re on only came with binds in those positions so that’s all we could do.” He sat down and swiveled his chair to face her. “But I assure you, you’re not a prisoner. When you’re ready, we can unstrap you and get you walking around to exercise those legs.”
“I’m ready now.”
“After your soup.” He looked away.
The doctor was right. She needed food. She needed to get her energy up.
She couldn’t escape the back of this moving hospital on an empty stomach.
Chapter 21
At the Toronto International Airport, Parkman and Aaron headed toward the security gates with their plane tickets and boarding passes. It had taken an extra day and a half to get tickets to Los Angeles unless they had wanted long layovers, one of them being an overnight.
No word had come in on Sarah. Even Detective Joffrey had come up empty.
“How did the call go?” Parkman asked as they got in line behind dozens of other passengers waiting to go through security.
Aaron had used his home phone, which both of them were pretty sure wasn’t bugged, to call Sarah’s parents and update them on what had happened to Sarah.
“I assured Caleb that we’d find Sarah.” He turned to face Parkman. “Her father puts a lot of trust in us.”
“How did he sound?”
“Hardened.”
“What do you mean by hardened?” Parkman asked.
“How many times has Sarah been in trouble or went missing, then resurfaced? Caleb reminded me of the time when they had been kidnapped and taken to an abandoned airstrip where they were locked in a tiny portable shelter. Sarah was also taken, as was a woman named Esmerelda, and Dolan.”
“I know, I was there at the end of that.”
“He told me it was Sarah who had broken out and rescued them. They were all in the same boat, but it was Sarah who swam to shore in an ocean crawling with sharks. At least that’s how he put it.”
“Somewhat true. That was Armond Stuart’s people. Sarah ended up going to Europe after him.”
“Didn’t you follow her there, too?”
“I did. And good thing I did. We both barely got out of Hungary with our lives.”
They reached the conveyer belt with its plastic bins. Aaron grabbed one for his backpack, and one for his shoes. Parkman was flying without luggage so he only needed one for his shoes.
An airport security guard asked them to remove their belts as well. Aaron walked through the metal detector first, then Parkman.
After they were through security, clamped their belts back on and slipped on their shoes, they turned left toward their gate number.
“Caleb was worried,” Aaron said. “But he put his faith in his daughters.”
“That’s what he said? His daughters, as in plural?”
Aaron nodded. “For me, it’s not Sarah I’m worried about. For her to be out there, all alone and physically capable to handle herself, I’d be willing to brush it off, wait it out. But because she has a head wound, she won’t be a hundred percent. She can’t protect herself. And what if the head wound blocks her connection with Vivian?”
Parkman hated the thought of anything happening to Sarah. It would be his fault. Coming to
warn her hadn’t been his only motivation. He had wanted to see her again. She had been missing for two months in Italy and as soon as she was back in Toronto, Violeta had threatened her. He wanted Sarah to know that he took that sort of thing seriously and would stay in Toronto to make sure nothing happened to her on account of him.
But she got hurt anyway. And now she was missing again.
“Parkman!” Someone called his name from behind them. “Aaron!”
Detective Joffrey stepped around a group of slow-moving tourists.
“Joffrey?” Aaron said. “What are you doing here?”
“You two didn’t think I would let this mystery slip past me, did you? I have to find out how this ends, just like a good spy novel, or a thriller. There’s good guys and bad guys, gunshots, kidnappings and at the heart of it all, an innocent girl, trapped by the villain or villains orchestrating it all. Too good to pass up.”
He slapped Aaron on the shoulder and looked around the area, smiling wide at the other passengers waiting for the flight to start boarding.
Parkman wondered for a split second if Aaron would knock the offending hand off him.
“Are you on our flight?” Parkman asked.
“Gate C9? Leaving at this horrible early hour and arriving as the sun comes up in LA? Yeah, I think I’m on your flight.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Joffrey said. He removed his hand from Aaron’s shoulder. “Come on, guys, coffee is on me.”
Chapter 22
The doctor, if he was a doctor, removed her soup bowl and pushed the TV tray back to the side, away from her bed. At the far end of the vehicle, he set her bowl in a small sink, turned on the tap to rinse it, then flipped a button to turn on the kettle.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.
“I want to walk,” Sarah said. “I need to get up and move around.”
“Okay.” He started back to her. “When you were asleep, and having those conversations that you have, I exercised your legs. It shouldn’t be too hard to get walking again, although it has been almost four days.”
He unraveled the straps on her ankles first.
“Tell me some of the things I say when I’m out.”
“About four hours ago you were talking about a man named Parkman and something about revenge. Whoever you were talking to sounded like they were attempting to change your mind.”
“My conscience?”
“Could be.”
He undid her other wrist.
“Anything else?”
“Not really. Mostly names, places. Once you talked about a man named Aaron.”
A memory surfaced. She felt warm and comforted by it.
“Aaron,” she repeated, softly. “Why is that name so special to me?”
“Don’t know, but you just said his name as intimately as you did when you were under.”
“I think I’m in love with that man.” She turned and met the doctor’s eyes as he started unraveling the straps covering her shoulders. “Whoever he is. What else?”
He stopped moving. “Oh damn. I almost forgot.”
The doctor slapped a red button on the inside wall of the vehicle. A metallic voice resonated throughout the interior.
“What do you need?” the voice asked.
“Stop, preferably at a gas station, convenience store. Sarah’s going to do a little walking around.”
“There’s one coming up in another mile or so. I’ll stop then.”
The intercom clicked off.
“I can’t have you wobbling on account of a moving vehicle. Wait another minute. Once we’re stopped, I’ll remove the rest of these restraints and help you up.”
“Did I say anything more in my sleep?”
“I’ll give you random words that you spoke clearly. See if it’ll mean anything to you.”
He picked up a clipboard and read from it. “You said someone told you about Greece and a man needed to be paralyzed. The name Violeta and pain were clear. A sacrificed chicken and a tapped phone. That’s about all of it.” He looked down at the clipboard, then back up. “There was something else. You said something about a vineyard and you miss your parents. Any of that help?”
“Not at the moment, but the name Aaron is a good name. I think he was in Greece once.” The tires bit into gravel as the driver maneuvered off the highway. As the vehicle slowed, she bit her bottom lip.
“What troubles you?” he asked.
“I just hate that I can’t remember anything. Pisses me off and scares me at the same time.”
“It’ll all come back shortly. I’m just surprised that the noises inside your head are full conversations. That’s a version of tinnitus I’ve never encountered. I sure would like to find out who you’re talking to.”
He undid the final strap as the vehicle came to a complete stop. A door opened and closed, the driver’s weight adjusting the vehicle ever so slightly as he got out. She waited to see if anyone else moved at the front.
Now she had confirmation that it was just the doctor and the driver.
“Here, wrap your arms around my neck. I’ll help you up.”
Sarah clung to him as she twisted sideways and slowly allowed her feet to touch the floor. Whether the Nike shoes on her feet were hers before or not, they looked good on her. And felt good.
There was weakness in her thighs, a subtle ache in the calf muscles, but her legs were strong enough to hold her after days of not using those muscles to hold anything.
“Hey, doc, who’s financing all this?”
The look on his face told her he didn’t want to talk about that.
“I can’t say.”
“You can’t say because you don’t know, or you can’t say because you’re bound not to?”
“Look, Sarah.”
She loosened her arm on his neck and stood using the side of the bed for support.
“You’re getting the best medical care money can buy. You’re safe from anyone pursuing you. You’re on your way home. What else do you need to know? Just heal and get ready to be reunited with your parents, okay.”
“I’m curious by nature. I like to know who I’m working with.”
“We’re not working together. You’re healing. I’m doctoring.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. We are working together. And if I chose to stop working with you, I would want to know who I’m upsetting.”
She wavered on her feet, gripped the bed tighter, and steadied herself until the dizziness waned.
“I will tell you that the person helping you is anonymous and wants to remain that way.”
“Fair enough.”
Using the side of the bed and the wall for support, she walked the length of the ambulance. At the front, she turned around and walked back.
“We found this in your pocket,” the doctor said. “Looks like a letter you wrote to yourself. It’s weird though, because you warn yourself to stay away from a man named Parkman.” He looked up as she made her way back to him. “The same man from your dreams.”
“Makes sense.”
He folded the paper and set it on the side counter.
When she made it back to the bed, she decided her legs were good enough. She was ready to incapacitate him and escape.
A small bandage covered the area where the bullet had hit her, the hair shaved around the bandage. She had shaved parts of her head before. It didn’t bother her. There was no lightheadedness or dizziness anymore, only mild weakness. And she was of sound mind, only missing a few memories. There was enough food in the back of the vehicle to keep her energy up until she got to Santa Rosa.
It was time to leave captivity.
One memory had cleared. The image of Parkman. She saw him lifting his gun and shooting at her. He lived in Santa Rosa. She knew that now with certainty. She was five hours away, according to the doctor, and they were taking her to there. Which meant they worked for Parkman. He missed killing her the first time, so he se
nt a team to keep her alive and deliver her to him under the guise of taking her home to her parents to get well and rest.