by Kris Norris
“That’s true. I was just hoping for some positive proof, for Trace and Kendall’s sake.”
“And for your own?” Wells grinned at him. “I assume you’ll want to stay at Ms. Walker’s side until she’s well enough to go home?”
“My job’s not finished until she’s safe.”
“Of course not.” Wells plunged his hands into his pocket, jingling some loose change. “Where’s Mitchell?” he asked, walking down the hall to the vending machine.
Dawson followed the man out. “He’s still feeling some effects from the tranquilizer, so I sent him to bed. He’s crashing in the doctor’s lounge.”
Wells looked back at him over his shoulder. “You look like you need to crash yourself. When’s the last time you got any quality sleep?”
“I’ll sleep when I know it’s over.”
“It’s over, Dawson.” He slid the change into the slot. “Garrick’s in custody and the Walkers are alive. What more could you want?”
“A guarantee?”
Wells laughed, removing the Styrofoam cup from the dispenser. “We seldom get those in life.”
“Excuse me? Special Agent Dawson Cade?”
Dawson and Wells turned to the man standing in the hall. He was older, with a stethoscope wrapped around his neck, and a long white coat covering his surgical greens. Dawson extended his hand. “I’m Dawson.”
“I was told you were the one to see regarding Mr. Black and the Walkers,” he replied, shaking Dawson’s hand.
“I’m in charge of the investigation. This is Director Wells. He’s head of the unit.”
“Pleased to meet you, Director. I thought you’d like to know Mr. Black survived the operation, and has been moved to the I.C.U. department. Four of your agents are already there, but they informed me you might want to take additional security measures.”
“Garrick Black has a nasty habit of escaping,” said Wells.
“I doubt the man will be conscious enough to do anything for a week, but we’ll do our best to accommodate your wishes.”
“We appreciate your cooperation,” said Dawson. “How’s Kendall?”
The doctor smiled and motioned down the hall. “We just brought her back from the x-ray department, but we’re having some problems trying to treat her injuries. It seems she won’t allow us to give her any medication without your presence. She even pulled out her I.V. on us. So if you wouldn’t mind, we could use your assistance.”
Dawson chuckled. “That sounds like her. But you’ll have to understand she’s been through a lot. I can’t blame her for not trusting anyone right now. Besides, she has issues with drugs.”
Dawson and Wells followed the man down the corridor, stopping at the last door on the right. “She’s all yours,” he said. “I’ll wait here until you’ve calmed her down.”
Dawson entered the room. Kendall was sitting on the bed near the far corner, her arms wrapped around her knees. She smiled when she saw him walk through the doorway.
“I hear you’re not being very cooperative,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her. “I thought we agreed you’d play nice.”
“Everything was fine until they insisted on drugging me.” She pulled herself closer. “No more drugs.”
Dawson stroked her hair. “They’re only trying to help, Kendall. You don’t have to take anything you don’t want. But will you at least listen to what the doctor has to say?”
“I never said I wouldn’t listen.”
Dawson smiled and waved to the doctor. “I believe it’s safe to enter.”
The man scurried into the room, grabbing Kendall’s x-rays off the table. “Very well then.” He shoved the pictures onto a projector and flicked on the light. “These are the results from the x-rays we took. As you can see, Ms. Walker has two fractures across her right facial plate. One here, parallel to the cheekbone, and one at an angle up toward her eye.” He traced his finger along the lines as he spoke. “Both appear to be clean and should heal on their own, though there may be some pain involved for the next few days, especially when she moves her jaw.”
He turned off the light, and faced Dawson and Kendall. “There’s not much we can do other than give you something for the pain, and try to reduce some of the swelling. What’s got me more concerned is the concussion you sustained. From what I’ve read, it’s the second one in two weeks. That’s not good. Now as far as we can tell, you don’t have any neurological damage, but that could change if you hurt yourself again. So for the next six weeks you’re on restricted activity. No racing, no training, nothing more strenuous than a slow walk.”
“For six weeks?” said Kendall, grabbing her head as if the sound of her voice bothered her.
“If you’re not careful, I’ll make it eight.” The doctor approached the bed. “I’m serious, Kendall. You could kill yourself if you get so much as a bump in the next couple of months. I need you to promise me you’ll follow my instructions.”
“Don’t worry,” replied Dawson. “I’ll see to it personally.” He flashed her a knowing smile when she glared at him. “Now what was it you wanted to give her?”
“She needs the I.V. back in to help keep her hydrated, and I’d like to administer some pain medication.” He looked at Kendall. “Your head must be killing you.”
“It hurts,” she whispered.
Dawson sat down on the bed. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and you have every reason to be wary. But I’m asking you to trust me one more time. Let them help you.”
“Fine,” she muttered, lying back on the bed. “As long as you promise to stay with me,” she said to Dawson.
“I’ll stay while they treat you. Then I just need to check on security up in the I.C.U. before I can settle down by your side for the night.” He brushed his fingers along her jaw. “Okay?”
“I’ll stay while Dawson’s busy,” added Wells. “If it’ll make you feel any better?”
“Okay,” she relented. “Just don’t be long. I feel safer when you’re here.”
“Of course, my love,” Dawson said. “Now let them do their job.”
Kendall sighed, allowing the doctor to tape the I.V. back in place.
He held up another needle, tapping it before pushing it into the tube. “I imagine this will kick in quickly.” He headed to the door. “Now rest and let the medication do its job.”
Kendall looked up at Dawson and sighed, closing her eyes as she relaxed back against the mattress.
“Better?” asked Dawson.
She nodded as she turned and looked at him. “Please hurry back,” she whispered. “I’m afraid he’ll come for me.”
Dawson bent down over her, brushing his lips across her forehead. “Garrick’s upstairs unconscious, and Logan died in the river. No one can come for you now, Kendall.”
She shook her head. “Not them, Dawson. The other guy.”
He pulled back. “What other guy?”
Kendall smiled, her eyes fluttering shut. “Man this stuff is good.”
“Kendall, what other guy? You never said anything about another player.”
She forced her eyes open again. “I can’t remember his name right now. You know, the connection he has at the Bureau. What’s his name? I’m sure I told you in the helicopter.”
“You didn’t say anything in the helicopter, and I don’t know about any connection at the Bureau. Kendall!”
She laughed again. “It’s so hard to concentrate. What were we talking about?” She closed her eyes and drifted off again.
“Maybe she’s just thinking about something else?” suggested Wells. “This could be stuff from long ago, or something she’s dreamt up in her mind.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t sound like her.” Dawson sighed. “I guess we’ll have to wait until the morphine wears off.” He shifted on his feet. “I should check on Garrick, but I’m not sure it’s safe to leave her here now.”
“I already said I’d stay, Dawson.” Wells shooed Dawson with his hands. “Go on. I think I can handle her security fo
r a few minutes.” He walked over to a chair and sat down. “Besides, I doubt she’ll even realize you’re gone.”
“Very well.” Dawson brushed another kiss across her forehead. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she said.
He smiled. “I love you too.”
Wells watched Dawson leave, glancing at his watch as the man disappeared into the hallway. He stood up, stepping over to the bed. “So Garrick told you about his connection at the Bureau. That’s most unexpected.” He reached into an inner pocket in his jacket and removed a small case. “Most unexpected.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kendall groaned and rolled to her side. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“I need you to remember the man’s name, the one Garrick told you about. It’s very important,” said Wells.
“Who?”
“Garrick’s connection at the Bureau. What was his name?”
“I can’t remember. He only said it once, and not to me. It reminded me of something…a ditch…a hole…something like that.” She looked over at the door. “Where did Dawson go?”
“He’s checking on Garrick. I’m afraid he won’t get back in time.”
“In time for what?”
“To save you.”
Kendall frowned. “Save me from what?” she asked, slurring the words together.
“From me.” He opened the case, and thumbed through several vials before removing one. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this so soon, but…” He removed a syringe and stuck in the small tube.
“You’re not making any sense. Why would Dawson need to save me from you?” She watched him start to fill the syringe. “What are you doing?” He didn’t answer, but continued drawing the liquid into the needle. “Oh God. You’re part of it. You’re working with Garrick.”
“He always said you were clever, but I never appreciated it until now.” He removed the needle, squirting a few drops out of the tip. “You’re looking rather pale, Kendall. Perhaps you need another dose to kill the pain.”
She shook her head and inched backwards on the bed. “They’ll know. Dawson will know it’s you.”
“Yes. Dawson has proven to be quite effective. But I’m afraid it’s the good doctor who’ll take responsibility for your death.” Wells laughed. “I quite like doctors. If nothing else, they’re predictable. While I came prepared for a few different scenarios, his use of morphine has definitely made things simpler. It turns out heroin is far more effective than morphine, but breaks down into the same components once in your bloodstream. It’s much easier to come by and no one will ever know the difference, as long as I’m careful not to be too eager. Even so, it looks like I’ll have to arrange for a convenient accident to eliminate Dawson. I’m hoping he’ll be so distraught over losing you, his guard will be down.”
He approached the bed. “Don’t worry, Kendall, it won’t hurt. You’ll just go to sleep, and in a few hours, this will all be over. Unlike Garrick, I don’t see the need for such violent tactics. I suppose I’m more of a humanitarian than he is.”
Kendall reached for the bar lining the bed.
“I’m afraid you’re in no condition to resist me, so why don’t you save yourself the trouble, and just lie still.” He shoved the needle in the I.V. releasing the drug into the tube. “It won’t be long now.”
“But why? I don’t even know you.”
“But I know you. I knew your father too. And I’ve been on Garrick’s payroll for a long time. It’s nothing personal, Kendall. It’s just business. Think of it as payment for your father’s sins.” He laughed as she slumped in the bed. “Have a nice sleep, my dear.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Mitchell, stepping out from behind a curtain lining the back wall. “But I believe overdosing someone is considered murder?”
Wells spun around, palming his gun. “What?”
“You might not want to fire that off in here,” Mitchell mused. “Dawson has guards at the door, remember? And if you hit one of the oxygen tanks behind me, we’ll all go up.”
“Besides,” said Dawson, walking back through the door. “If you shoot Mitchell, I’ll be forced to shoot you.”
Wells stepped back, his gun still aimed at Mitchell. “You’re too late. It’s already in her bloodstream. Not even you can save her now. Looks like your partner waited too long, Dawson.”
“Or maybe Mitchell knew I was one step ahead.” He walked over to the bed. “I thought you’d go for the accidental approach. A bullet would be too easy to trace, and any evidence of a struggle wouldn’t look too good considering you’re the only one in here. But an overdose…that you could blame on the doctor.” He slid his hand down Kendall’s arm, stopping at the I.V. tube. “It’s only taped on.”
Wells snarled, still holding his gun in his hand. “Then why is she out?”
“Is she?” Dawson stroked Kendall’s face. “You can open your eyes now, Kendall.”
“And to think I got kicked out of drama class because I couldn’t get the death scene right,” she said, opening her eyes.
“If only they could see you now.” He looked back at Wells. “It’s over. Please put down the gun, before someone gets hurt.”
“I didn’t think Garrick would say anything,” he mumbled, lowering his gun.
“He didn’t,” said Dawson. “We just made that up to test our theory.”
“But how did you know?” asked Wells, grunting as Mitchell clamped a set of cuffs around his wrists.
“When I searched deeper for information on everyone involved with the Walkers, some interesting stuff surfaced. Someone tried to make it appear as if Mitchell was involved in the investigation surrounding Garrick’s last attempt on Kendall’s life ten years ago, when Trace got shot.”
“But you didn’t know Mitchell then. What made you doubt the report?”
“I might’ve believed it, if it hadn’t been signed by you. You didn’t become Director of the unit until after Mitchell and I started working together, so you wouldn’t have signed off on that report.” He walked over to the man. “I also had a friend dig up some other fascinating facts about you. Seems you were stationed in Las Vegas for three years before Kendall’s father tried to turn on Garrick. You were new to the force and involved in a counter-fitting investigation. It all seemed just a bit too coincidental to me. From what I understand, that’s when Garrick put you on his payroll.”
“So he’s the reason Garrick’s been able to find us all these years?” asked Kendall, stumbling off the bed.
“And Wells was the agent who convinced the Bureau Garrick was dead,” said Dawson. He motioned to the agents standing at the door. “Get him out of my sight.”
“This isn’t the end, Dawson. Garrick has connections even you don’t know about. He’ll be back, and your new girlfriend will never be free.”
Dawson sneered as they dragged Wells out of the room. “Don’t listen to him, Kendall. It’s over.” He took her in his arms. “All of Garrick’s rescues are gone.”
Kendall snuggled into his chest. “As long as I still have a few left, I guess it’s okay.”
“I think I’ve still got a couple up my sleeve.” He moved back to the bed. “Now what do you say we get the doctor in here and give you the shot for real? Your must be in a lot of pain.”
“I was too scared to think about it,” she teased, allowing him to help her back into the bed. “I suppose you have to go, and take care of Wells?”
“That’s okay, I’ll take care of everything tonight,” said Mitchell. “I kind of owe Dawson some time off, seeing as I spent half the day sleeping.”
“Thanks, Mitchell.” Dawson sat down on the bed as Mitchell walked out. “Trace is already in his room. Would you like to share one with him?”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling herself tight. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I can share a bed with you.”
“They tend to frown on that at the hospital, but perhaps I can use
my position to persuade them.” He smiled at her. “You did great.”
“It’s only been two weeks since the last dose, I still remember how it felt. And it wasn’t that bad knowing Mitchell was only a scream away.” She watched the doctor walk back in. “I don’t suppose he was lying about the six week thing?”
“Sorry, that part was real.”
The doctor approached the bed. “Since we’re not putting an I.V. in, I’ll need to give you the morphine directly. So if you’d be so gracious and roll over for me?”
“You’ve got to be kidding?” said Kendall.
“Sorry, but it works the best in the buttocks.”
Kendall sneered, rolling over toward Dawson. She flinched as the needle pierced her flesh. “Can’t you do that without hurting?” she asked, rolling back over.
“Don’t worry, you won’t feel anything soon enough.” He smiled at her. “I’ll send a nurse in to move you to your brother’s room.”
Dawson nodded, holding her close to his chest as she sagged in his arms. “Already working I see.”
She laughed, “You’ll stay, right?”
“All night.”
She smiled, lying back on the bed. “Then get in.” She patted the mattress beside her.
“Just remember to behave yourself,” he teased, smiling as she draped her body across his.
“I’ll be content to just have you hold me,” she whispered. “Just don’t let go.”
“Not for a moment,” he promised. “Not for a moment.”
* * * *
Mitchell opened the door to the hospital room. “Good morning.”
“Mitchell. I was wondering when you’d stop by.” Dawson stood up, shaking his friend’s hand. “Did everything go okay with Wells?”
“He’s in lock up, trying to swing a deal. I don’t think he’s going to have much luck though.” Mitchell waved a folder in the air. “There’s some paper work you’ll need to go over, but other than that, it’s all wrapped up.”
“Any news on Logan?” asked Trace, shifting his legs so Mitchell could sit on the edge of the bed.
“The team Dawson sent in searched the bank for hours. They found some articles of clothing, but no body. But I doubt he’s still alive, Trace. They said it was miles before the current slowed, and you were suffering from exposure after only a few minutes.”