Unconditional

by Holly Copella

  “They were bad guys, right?” he suddenly asked, as if fearing the reality of what had just happened. “They tried to kill us, didn't they?”

  “Yes, they were bad guys,” she said softly and pulled him back against her. “You did the right thing.”

  It was now Harlan’s turn to tremble. She heard the knife fall from his hand and clatter as it struck the tile floor.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Not more than ten minutes had passed after the attack in the kitchen. Indy paced Harlan’s ransacked bedroom with the cordless phone to her ear and watched Harlan change into his street clothes. He seemed to be off in another world, and his sluggish actions reinforced it. Whatever had transpired between Harlan and the intruder in his bedroom had resulted in damage to the lamp, his laptop, and the bed, which had most of the linen torn from it. Despite her conversation with Roman over the phone, she couldn’t help but study Harlan’s odd behavior. Something was seriously wrong in his mind, and it frightened her. She still wanted to change into something more appropriate before Roman arrived at the crime scene, which was once her kitchen. She wasn’t sure she’d have enough time, and she certainly couldn’t leave Harlan alone. Harlan was going to require extensive damage control to bring him back to an acceptable level of coherence. She heard Roman’s voice on the other end, bringing her out of her trance.

  “Yeah, I’m still here, Roman,” she announced while attempting to sound strong despite everything she’d already been through tonight. She continued to watch Harlan fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. More than her own trauma, she feared for Harlan’s recovery. “We’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes.”

  She again looked at Harlan. He had finally finished dressing and now held the television remote control. His finger pressed the button gaining vigor as he stared blankly across the room. Indy felt her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t have a good feeling about his state of mind and hoped the earlier incident hadn’t seriously disrupted his rehabilitation. Although, if she were honest with herself, he was already acting strangely before the kitchen assault. She placed her attention back on her phone call.

  “Listen, I have to go,” she announced. “Harlan’s acting, well, odd. I need to do something about it.” There was an awkward pause as she listened to Roman on the other end. “Yeah, I still have what the doctor gave me. I’ll use it if necessary.” Indy kept her attention focused on Harlan. “Yes, ten minutes,” she replied then disconnected the call. She watched Harlan as he stood by the bed and pressed the remote control button with increasing agitation. “Roman's on his way.”

  Harlan didn’t respond. Indy slowly approached him and attempted to read the look on his face as he stared blankly at the wall. She didn’t know where he was, but he was definitely gone from their world.

  “Are you okay?” she asked gently.

  There was no response. His finger repeatedly struck the remote control button faster and with more aggression. As she stared into his eyes, she saw them shifting back and forth as if reading from some unseen textbook.

  “Harlan,” she demanded his attention.

  His expression suddenly dropped as if something struck him hard. Harlan turned and bolted from the room. Indy let out a terrified cry and ran after him.

  “Harlan, wait! What's wrong?”

  Indy chased after him along the second floor hallway. He entered her father’s bedroom and stopped just a few feet inside the room. Indy entered and paused in the doorway behind him. She watched him with concern, frightened of his next outburst. Harlan’s eyes shifted across the room in a state near panic.

  “Please have locked the guns up,” Indy muttered softly.

  Harlan suddenly spun to face her with a look that frightened her. His finger pounded on the remote control button with such force, the plastic casing cracked. He’d gone mad!

  “The coyote,” he announced with concern. “Don't you see? It was the coyote all along!”

  Before Indy had a chance to react, Harlan dropped the broken remote control, took a quick step toward her, and grabbed her arms. She jumped with surprise to his sudden movement.

  “The coyote wants me dead!”

  She stared into his confused eyes with fear. She needed to do something, but she wasn’t sure what. Roman would be at the house in a few minutes, but she couldn’t trust Harlan around her friend, not in his current condition. Before she could come up with a response or an intelligent solution, Harlan approached the tall dresser and began tearing things from the drawer. Indy watched in horror as her father's boxer shorts and socks were thrown haphazard across the room.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped while subconsciously running her fingers through her hair. She finally glared at him and took a firm approach. “Stop this, Harlan!”

  Harlan crossed the room to a second dresser, pulled the drawer open, and tossed pairs of pants across the floor. Aggression wasn’t going to solve anything, and he wasn’t interested in listening to her. She had only one card left to play. Indy hurried from the room. She returned only a moment later with a sedation syringe hidden behind her back.

  “Harlan, you need to stop this,” she announced in a firm but comforting tone.

  He didn’t respond to her words.

  She drew a deep breath and spoke softer. “Please, you're scaring me.”

  Harlan straightened and turned to face her. Her words broke through, causing him to stare at her with concern for her feelings. His lips parted to speak, but he suddenly froze and no words came out. Harlan’s look suddenly hardened and renewed hostility swept over him like a tidal wave. Harlan bolted across the room for her. Indy gasped and jumped backward, striking the nightstand behind her and clutching the sedation syringe close to her side so he wouldn’t see it. Harlan reached past her and grabbed the framed picture of Liz. He stared at the picture with increasing hostility and aggression. He tossed the picture to the bed and pulled open the drawer she leaned against, nearly knocking her aside. Harlan removed a semiautomatic pistol from the drawer. Indy suddenly gasped and jumped away from him. She couldn’t believe her father left a gun in the drawer with Harlan not yet himself. Certainly, her father wouldn’t have left it loaded. Harlan skillfully popped the clip, checked that it contained bullets, and then slammed it back in with added vigor. Indy jumped with alarm as he swiftly cocked the gun. The sound alone was enough to send chills down her spine. She slowly moved toward him.

  “Harlan,” she announced gently, “put down the gun.”

  Harlan glared at her as if surprised by her comment. He snatched the discarded, framed picture from the bed and vigorously shook it at Indy.

  “The coyote,” he growled his discontent. “The coyote tried to kill me.”

  “Please put down the gun,” Indy whispered without taking her eyes from his.

  “Why aren't you listening?” he demanded, clearly frustrated, while staring back at her.

  “Put down the gun and I'll listen,” she replied gently.

  Harlan stared at her a moment, groaned softly, and set the gun on the nightstand between them. Indy moved closer to him where he stood just before the bed. She gently touched his face with her left hand and stared into his eyes.

  “Okay, now what are you talking about?”

  Harlan inhaled deeply and placed his hand on hers that touched his cheek. He shut his eyes and sighed softly to the feel of her hand. Indy took a step closer to him while keeping him focused on her hand touching his face. She gently slipped her right arm around his waist. Her right hand concealed the syringe, which she carefully positioned over his buttocks. Before she could even coil back with the syringe behind him, Harlan grabbed her wrist and snatched the injection from her. His instincts and reflexes were enough to stun her. Harlan held the syringe and stared at her with a look of surprise and possible hostility.

  “Bad girl,” he growled softly.

  Before she had a chance to speak in her defense, Harlan injected the needle into her buttocks. Indy let out a startled gas
p to the sharp sting. Harlan removed the needle, casually set it aside, and pushed her onto the bed. She bounced slightly in a sitting position. Harlan reclaimed the gun from the nightstand. Indy attempted to protest but she suddenly felt her head spinning. She was unable to focus on him. She clutched her head and attempted to remain alert. Harlan placed the gun down the back of his pants and removed an extra clip from the drawer. He turned to Indy. She made an attempt to stand. Harlan placed a hand on her shoulder and easily returned her to the bed. She stared helplessly at him and knew she was going to be unconscious any second. Harlan stared into her eyes as she attempted to focus on him. He gently lowered her to a relaxed position on the bed and leaned over her. A devious smile crossed his face as he stared into her eyes from only a few inches from her face.

  “After I kill the coyote, it's my turn to interrogate you,” he whispered in a seductive tone.

  Harlan kissed her quickly but passionately on the mouth then straightened and left the room. Indy lie on the bed and stared after him as the room spun. Everything became dark.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Indy slowly woke while lying on the bed to Roman hovering over her while speaking. She could hear his words, but it sounded as if he was talking in a foreign language. She wasn’t sure where she was or what had happened. She slowly looked around the room with disorientation. It took her only a moment to realize that she was in her father’s room, but she couldn’t remember how she got there or what had happened prior to that. Roman appeared relieved that she was finally awake, clung to her hand, and groaned softly as he sat facing her on the bed.

  “Oh, thank God,” he announced. “After I saw the dead men in the kitchen, I thought you were dead too.” His look suddenly turned stern. “You told me some men broke into your house. Why didn’t you tell me they were dead?”

  Indy slowly sat up while clutching her head and immediately groaned from the tremendous pounding she felt. Roman attempted to steady here as she sat hunched over.

  “Whoa, take it easy,” he remarked while studying her. “Want to tell me what happened?”

  Indy’s mind raced as she attempted to piece together what had happened leading up until the time she woke to Roman over her bedside. Then it came back to her. Alarm swept over her, and she looked at Roman.

  “Where's Harlan?”

  “I didn't see him,” he replied and appeared curious. “Indy, what happened?”

  “After we were attacked, Harlan was acting really strange,” she informed him. “He thought Liz was the evil coyote. I tried to stop him, but he grabbed the sedation syringe and used it on me instead.” She stared at her friend with concern. “We have to find him, Roman.”

  Indy attempted to get out of bed, despite her slightly spinning head. Roman helped steady her on her feet.

  “We should search the house. Maybe he never left,” Roman remarked. “You know his mind.”

  “Yes, I know his mind, and he's not in his right one,” she insisted. Her look turned grave. “He found my father's gun. We need to find him.”

  “He's armed?” Roman suddenly gasped then stared at her with renewed concern. He seemed ill prepared for what might happen next. “That’s not good. I really think we need to call Sheriff Lerner in on this.”

  “If we find him, I can talk him down,” she insisted. “I don't think he'd actually hurt Liz.”

  Roman didn’t seem to share her conviction. “Did he kill those men downstairs?”

  She stared at him with surprise and almost feared answering the question. “That's different,” Indy informed him. “That was self-defense.”

  “What if he thinks killing Liz is self-defense?”

  Indy couldn’t fight the horrible feeling burning inside her. She didn’t want to believe it, and no matter what she thought, she was never going to admit it aloud.

  “Can we do this later?”

  Roman stared at her with a look that caused her concern. It was as if he were harboring some dark secret. She felt the need to stare at him and wait for whatever it was he had to say.

  “There's something I need to tell you, Indy, and you're not going to like it,” Roman gently announced. He took a deep, nervous breath as she stared at him with anticipation. “On Christmas night, I'd gone into the kitchen to make Harlan some tea. I swear I’d only left him alone for five minutes. When I returned to his room, that woman was lying dead on the floor.”

  Indy felt her entire body tense at the words she was hearing for the first time. Roman wouldn’t lie about something like that, but she just couldn’t believe it was true.

  “Harlan broke her neck,” he announced firmly, driving the pain a little deeper into her heart. “I’d only found out later who she was.”

  It then occurred to Indy, she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t accept what Harlan had done. It would have been impossible for Harlan to move the dead nurse’s body.

  “What did you do?” she gasped with surprise, although she already knew the answer.

  “I didn't know what to do,” Roman continued while nearly trembling from his own words. “I panicked. I didn't know why she came back, but there had to be some reason why he did it.” Roman stared into Indy’s panic-filled eyes and inhaled deeply. “I carried her out to the main road and dumped her in the swamp. He subconsciously ran his fingers violently through his hair and could barely look at her. “It was wrong, I know, but I knew Harlan didn't kill her without reason. I couldn’t let them put him away when he couldn't tell his side.”

  “Is that why his cast was all scratched out?”

  “Yeah,” he replied with a deep sigh. “When I came back from dumping the body, he had already written it on his cast. I had to remove the evidence, so I crossed out a whole bunch of things to make it look random.”

  “And now you're having second thoughts?”

  “She obviously slipped in through the terrace door in his bedroom, but did that justify him killing her?” Roman remarked while staring at her. He tilted his head with concern. “I don't know what to think. He's trained to kill and, at the moment, he’s somewhat delusional. I'm not sure he's capable of rational thinking. Are you willing to gamble with Liz’s life?”

  “I know you have to do your job, Roman, but can't we leave Sheriff Lerner out of this for now?” Indy pleaded while searching his eyes. “Call Liz at the funeral home. You can keep her safe until I find Harlan.”

  “It’s five in the morning,” Roman informed her. “I’m sure they’re both still sleeping. They have a big funeral in the morning. I doubt anyone will answer.”

  “Then we'll go to the funeral home,” Indy insisted. “Harlan may be a genius, but he doesn’t even know her name. He certainly wouldn't know to look for her at the funeral home.”

  “Okay, we'll go to the funeral home,” Roman reluctantly agreed. “I'll stay with Liz for a few hours, but if you don't find Harlan in that time, I have to report it to Sheriff Lerner.”

  Indy nodded and sighed softly. “Fine.”

  †

  Roman’s police cruiser pulled up the long driveway to the out-of-the-way funeral home on the hill. Liz’s car was parked around the side of the funeral home not far from the hearse. Kale’s car wasn’t in front, which was unusual. The funeral home appeared quiet, although that was typical for the early hour. Indy and Roman got out of his police cruiser and approached the front door. It seemed odd that the interior lights were on. Roman knocked, but there was no answer. Indy tried the door. It was unlocked! They exchanged looks. Roman entered with Indy bringing up the rear. Both looked around the quiet foyer and grand hallway. Was it possible they were already up and preparing for the large, morning funeral?

  “Kale?” Indy called out while looking around where she stood in the large hallway.

  There was no response.

  “Maybe he's in the embalming room downstairs,” Roman suggested.

  “Perhaps,” she announced, although she was certain the body would already be upstairs in one of the viewing rooms for th
e morning funeral.

  As they walked along the hallway, Indy peered into the front viewing room to the right. The lavish room was prepared for a massive funeral and filled with flowers. The casket set stately toward the back of the room with the lid closed. Why was the lid closed? Indy suddenly hesitated and quickly entered the viewing room. Roman was surprised by her change of direction and hurried after her. Indy crossed the room in a hurry then slowed her approach to see several droplets of blood along the floor. As she got closer to the closed casket, she saw a faint, bloody handprint on the casket lid. Indy stopped a couple of feet from the casket and cast a horrified look at Roman. Both lunged for the casket. Roman hesitated then uncertainly opened the lid.

  Both stared with horror at Margo lying motionless within the casket. A small amount of bright red blood glared at them as it stained the white, satin pillow beneath her head. Indy cried out with surprise and horror. Her first instinct was to see if her friend was alive or dead, but she feared finding out. Before she could convince her body to move closer to her motionless, bleeding friend, they heard movement behind them. Both turned to the sound. Indy felt a surge of pain against her head but barely saw the blur that had struck her. She collapsed to the floor without a chance to brace her sudden fall. Indy attempted to keep her eyes open despite everything turning fuzzy and dark. The only sound she heard was a loud humming coming from the confines of her own mind.

  She could see the blurred image of Roman struggling with someone not far from her. She wanted to help, but she couldn’t even convince her fingers to move. Roman punched the man in the face, and for a moment, Indy felt relief that her friend had gotten the upper hand in their attack. She clutched and clawed at the floor, hoping she was closer to pulling herself up, when, in fact, she’d done little more than move her fingers across the hardwood floor. The distinctive crack of a gunshot was suddenly heard above the loud humming sound in her head. Indy then saw the blurred image of Roman being thrown backward and against the casket. He collapsed to the floor near her. She could barely make out his face and his uniform, but she could see the blood seeping from his body onto the hardwood floor not far from her. Indy attempted to reach for him, but her fingers barely moved. She stared at his motionless face before everything went dark.