Amnesia

  “Fine, I’ll meet with you, but leave Lissa out of it.”

  “No deal. It’s the two of you or everyone is dead. You have ten seconds to decide. I’m rather impatient these days, thanks to you and your meddling!”

  Drake had no idea if Marcuse was bluffing, but surrounded by the destruction the evil man was capable of spreading, what else could he think? Ten seconds to decide who lives and who dies? At least they had more of a chance if he acquiesced than they would have cornered here.

  “Well, what will it be? Five, four, three, two….”

  “Alright! Just give me a minute to make sure everyone will be okay.”

  “Twenty minutes. At twenty minutes and one second, the rest are dead.”

  * * *

  Drake shut the car door behind Lissa, and then went around to the driver’s side of the Saturn and got in, slamming the door. He started the 10N Quad Coupe, backed away from the smoldering Pontiac in front of him, and pulled out turning the car around. The air was stifling inside the enclosed car, and he rolled the window down until the air conditioner had a chance to start cooling. The heat only added to his fury, and he jammed the accelerator hard as he turned the corner without stopping, missing an oncoming car by inches.

  “Pull over Drake,” Lissa requested quietly.

  “I’m fine,” he retorted, embarrassed.

  “Please pull over for a minute. I need to talk to you about something.”

  He glanced over at her, saw the sober look on her face, and mutely pulled the car over to the side, putting it in park, letting the engine idle.

  “Drake, this has been the hardest two weeks of my life. I’ve had two cars demolished, a man killed on my front door step, my apartment burned to the ground, and several of my friends seriously injured. But all of that was nothing compared to finding, and falling in love with you.”

  She paused, collecting her thoughts, and he was transported back to the scriptures he had read that morning about God giving the gift of love. It was true; it was all of little consequence when compared to that gift so freely given.

  “The point I think I’m trying to make is that I love you. I never thought I would ever feel this way about anyone, and I am so glad I do now. And I am completely awestruck that you would be interested in me at all.” Again she paused, taking a deep breath to steady her heart and mind.

  “No matter what happens to us now, I needed to make sure you knew that. If somehow we make it through all of this, I want to share my life with you, every single part, no matter how bad it gets.

  “That’s all,” she concluded, “I just needed you to know, just in case.”

  “And you need to know that I feel the same way,” Drake confided. “I love you more than anything, including life itself. The only thing that scares me is that we won’t have the opportunity to seal that love if Marcuse has his way.” Now he was the one to take a deep breath before forging ahead.

  “Lissa, I know this is a really bad time for this, but,” he paused for a moment, looking deep into her accepting, encouraging eyes. “I want to take you to the temple, to seal our love in eternal marriage. I guess this is an awkward way of asking you to marry me, so that we can have the peace of knowing we will always be together. Not for just a few years, but for all eternity. Will you marry me, in the temple, forever?”

  For a moment he thought she would just sit there saying nothing, tears forming in her eyes then flowing silently down her face. He wondered if he had really blown it, but then she started to laugh. Startled, he just stared at her.

  Suddenly she undid her seatbelt and threw her arms around his neck, holding him as closely as she could in the cramped seat, all the time laughing. Finally, through the tears and laughter she expressed her thoughts.

  “You’re right, you have awful timing. But you do have the right words. Of course I will marry you. But first do you mind if we take care of the little issue of Marcuse, so we can take a nice long honeymoon without worrying about him?”

  He blushed slightly at the mention of a honeymoon, but he just held her tight, kissing her the way a fiancé should kiss the woman to whom he is engaged. A moment later they separated, and reality returned. He put the car in gear and headed toward their rendezvous with terror.

  * * *

  Maritza was in a foul mood already this morning. She hated her stint at this awful mansion, and had drunk herself into a stupor the night before. As a result she had a nasty hangover on top of having to work in the gloomy castle, which was always fastidiously clean anyhow. Only the owner never seemed satisfied. He would rant and rave over every tiny thing. “There’s water spots on this faucet,” “the bedding is wrinkled,” and such, even for rooms which was obvious he never entered except for his weekly inspection.

  Besides that, there was a creepy feel to the place, like someone was always watching, or perhaps ghosts were following behind you. Throughout the day she always found herself looking over her shoulder to see who was there, then crossing herself when she saw no one. Amongst the other cleaning ladies they always called this “la casa de la muerte” or “the house of death.”

  Today had been no exception. She had arrived late but was lucky enough to miss the owner who had already left. She went through the normal routine of changing the sheets, gathering the laundry, and tidying the sole bedroom, and was starting on vacuuming the halls. She had just gotten to the detested library when she heard the chirping.

  This was the worst part of the house—the library. It always smelled like someone had been smoking cigars, but there were never any ashes to be found. Sometimes she thought she heard footsteps on the hardwood floors, only to open the door and see no one there. Often she would find the balcony doors thrown open when there was no one there. Then, a few days earlier, she had entered the room to see that all of the books had been pulled off one of the walls, and sent flying across the room to land in a heap against the other wall. Although she never said anything, she thought that a poltergeist had done the deed, and swore she would never enter the room again. Then the chirping began.

  It wasn’t the first time she had heard the sound, and believed it was angry ghosts trying to lure her into the room. The last time was just last night. She had been working late because the owner had decided that she needed to redo one of the guestrooms, which had yet to hold a guest, and the kitchen, which the cook had already rendered spotless. Later she heard the owner stomping around upstairs, followed by yelling that she needed to redo the hall. Angrily she had climbed the stairs, only to see footprints that appeared to be made from ash.

  Furiously she set to work to clean the long hall once again, muttering epithets and curses under her breath. She had all but determined that she would rather quit than work here again, when the chirping sounded from the library. At first she ignored it as she had before, but it continued to beckon her, taunting her for thinking such things, forcing her to recant her earlier thoughts. As soon as she apologized, again under her breath, the chirping stopped, the angry spirits appeased. From there she went straight home for a good stiff drink.

  This morning however, in the bright light of the mid-morning, she heard the sound again. Her anger flooded back through her as she remembered all the nasty things the owner, and of course the angry spirits, had done to her. She decided it was time to face them, regardless of the outcome. She hated this place and its occupant, and decided she would never come back again once she finished her job and got her check. It was time to face her fears straight on.

  She opened the door and quickly located the source of the chirping, a tall, narrow table just inside, and approached it warily. She rubbed her moist hands on her jeans, and then pulled open the drawer. There was nothing there. She almost screamed in terror, her worst fears verified—it was the sound of the ghosts mocking her.

  She slammed the drawer and started to turn, when her mind registered that something in the drawer had broken when she had banged it. She turned back to the table and pulled open the drawer to assess t
he extent of damage. Stooping down to see the back of the drawer, she saw that the wood was sitting slightly ajar, with a shadow and a slice of wood behind it. She pushed on the piece and it gave, revealing a secret compartment hiding a ringing cell phone.

  Sucking in a gasp of air, finally noticing that she had been holding her breath, she picked up the Motorola flip phone, opened it and hit the send key.

  “Hola? Lo siento, no habla ingles.” The voice on the other end said something in English about “Marcuse” but she didn’t recognize the question. He then asked her for the man of the house, and she simply stated that he was not available. The voice seemed curiously satisfied when she told him whose house it was, but she didn’t understand what he was saying, so ended the call. She put the cell phone and the false wall back where it belonged, and went back to cleaning the house, feeling lighter than she had all week, now knowing the source of her irritation. Perhaps this house wasn’t so haunted after all.

  * * *

  Jack waited impatiently for the doctors to finish examining his wife. Worry could not begin to describe the anxiety he felt for her well-being. For the hundredth time he cursed himself for his naïveté about how much danger they were all in. He slowed his pacing for a moment, seeing a nurse rush out of the ER bay, only to grab something and return. He resumed the nervous activity, wondering what could possibly be taking so much time. He decided he needed to take a real walk—this waiting was simply driving him mad.

  He stepped out the doors into the hot sunshine, retrieved his cell phone, and dialed Bill’s number, needing to know where things stood. He was grateful Bill was there, someone he could trust and depend on to get things in order, things that Jack was unable to do with his wife laying near death in the hospital emergency room.

  It was Bill that noticed Drake take Lissa’s hand and run out the door headed to their Saturn. He had obviously put together Marcuse’s phone call and them leaving, and he was determined to follow. They were already in the car and around the corner before he realized all the tires on the Volt had been punctured. He ran over to the minivan to take it instead, only to find it in the same condition. Of course the Pontiac was still on fire and was unusable. He recognized his quandary immediately. He had used his cell phone to get an unmarked car delivered to the house, mumbling curses under his breath the whole time.

  When the ambulance arrived and was preparing to whisk Nancy away, Jack turned to Bill, his eyes questioning if he had everything under control, then to Carrie, trying to determine what course of action to take for the two of them.

  “Go ahead and go,” Bill had answered. “A car will be here for me soon, and we can go after them.”

  “No,” Jack disagreed, “I need you to get a search warrant. Call Judge Matthias and have him call me back for the details. Then I will need you to get it ready for us.” His voice darkened threateningly as he added, “What I need right now is to nail the creep who did all of this.”

  “Then I will stay here and get this all cleaned up,” Carrie interrupted, trying to get Jack on his way. “I’ll have the house back together by the time you get home tonight.”

  Gratefully, Jack took both of their hands, carefully as to not hurt his broken right arm, and looked deeply into their eyes. “You will never know how grateful I am for you. For all of you.” He stopped, his voice catching with emotion.

  The moment was destroyed as the ambulance driver called out that it was time to go and that he had better get in the vehicle or stay behind. Jack squeezed both hands again, then spun on his heel and climbed into the back of the waiting ambulance.

  Suddenly he turned back to Carrie, with a new look of concern on his face. “Kate…” he started, as if unsure where his thoughts would take him. “She’s at Planet Kid at a birthday party. She’ll need someone to…”

  “I’ll call Shirley,” Carrie offered. “We can take care of her. Besides, I can use the extra help.”

  Jack shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. There was so much these people were willing to do for him. He could never even begin to thank them. Saying nothing, he turned and sat down next to the stretcher as the paramedic closed and secured the doors, readying their departure. Moments later the emergency vehicle sped off, lights blazing and siren blaring, leaving the last two intended targets standing alone.

  Bill and Carrie had taken the moment of privacy to simply hold each other, allowing their love to heal the wounds so recently delivered to their hearts. A moment later two cars drove up, one older brown Chevy, the one Bill would take, the other a police cruiser ready to take all the details and write a report.

  Bill spoke with the officers for a moment, quickly telling them what had occurred and what he would need them to do, then sent them to Carrie to iron out the details. He jumped in the borrowed car and pulled out his cell phone to follow-up on Jack’s request.

  That was over an hour ago, and still the doctors were working on Nancy. Jack put the recently dialed phone to his ear, and waited for Bill to answer.

  “Lowell.”

  “Did you get the search warrant?”

  “Yeah. The judge was a little leery when you told him the details, but he signed it. I have it in my hand right now. I’m heading to the hospital to get you now. How’s Nancy?”

  “Don’t know yet, the doctors are still working on her. Okay, come straight here. I have another phone call to make, and we should be ready—wait, here comes the doctor now. Just come get me.” He closed the phone to end the call and turned to face the prognosis.

  “Are you Mr. McConnell?” the physician asked.

  “I am,” Jack answered weakly. “How is she?”

  “I’m Doctor Ramier, the attending physician. Well, Doctor Brandon was right, the glass sliced through the Superior Vena Cava, but I was able to reconnect it. She has lost a lot of blood, but with some rest, she should be fine.”

  Jack felt weak in the knees with relief, and sank to the bench next to the building. He had been lucky and he knew it. He vowed that the next time he saw his wife he would smother her with affection so she would know how much he loved her. She would never have to guess how he felt. He loved her so much it hurt, and he would make sure she never questioned that.

  “Are you okay, Mr. McConnell?” the all but forgotten doctor asked.

  “Yes, yes I’m fine. Can I see her now?

  “Of course. We’re moving her into a regular room, and I’ve called for an ophthalmological exam on her left eye, but that will all take time. Go on in and take all the time you need. I will warn you that it’s not pretty in there, and she is sedated and may not respond to you, but let’s go on in.”

  Together Jack and the doctor went in to see a haggard looking Nancy. She had tubes and wires stuck everywhere and there was a nurse cleaning the blood off of her face and chest above the gown Nancy now wore. She looked up as they entered, saw the subtle nod from the doctor, and went back to work.

  “We’ll take good care of her, Mr. McConnell,” the nurse commented. “She’s one of us. We take care of our own.”

  Jack nodded mutely, approaching his beautiful wife of twenty-two years. He still saw her as the sprightly twenty-year-old nursing student that had captured his eye during a football game. Where had all the time gone? Did he tell her how he felt about her nearly enough? What would he ever do without her?

  “Hi,” she interrupted his thoughts.

  “Oh Nancy, I was so sure I was going to lose you!” He lamely faked a cough to cover the break in his voice.

  “Nah, I’m too stubborn to go anywhere.” She too started to cough, sending agonizing spasms through her body. Jack looked nervously at the nurse, who simply shook her head that this was expected and that there was nothing they could do.

  “I’ll get the guy that did this to you Nancy,” he promised, anger sweeping through him as he saw her pain.

  “No, Jack,” she argued. “Get the man that is terrorizing our friends, trying to kill people, and who knows what else. Get him an
d put him behind bars.” She paused for a moment, the intensity of her words draining her of what strength she had before continuing. “But don’t go after revenge. You’re too good for that. You are too good a man….” She trailed off, falling back to sleep.

  Jack picked up her hand closest to him and kissed it gently, ignoring the tubes running from it. “I will, baby, I will.”

  Just then Bill cleared his throat, not wanting to disturb, but needing to make his presence known. Jack turned and looked up at him and nodded. Turning back to his wife he said, “I have to go do something right now, but I’ll be back. I love you Nancy. Oh how I love you!”

  He placed her hand gently back on the bed, stood, took one more, long look at her face, and turned to leave. He brushed by Bill without stopping, heading out to the parking lot. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. All he needed was the last piece of the puzzle, and he knew exactly where to find it.

  CHAPTER 15

  Drake was steering the Saturn down State Street, headed toward Parkcenter Blvd. when he first noticed the large gray truck behind them. It was several cars back so didn’t think much of it past a fleeting interest in the oddity of the vehicle. It wasn’t until they passed a yellow light and the monstrous SUT pulled into the median and ran the red that he gave it any thought.

  His first inclination was to pass the incident off as a careless and inconsiderate driver, but something, perhaps his justifiable paranoia, told him to keep closer tabs on the juggernaut. He watched his rearview mirror closely, noting the progress of the Hummer as it kept pace with them, slowly gaining ground through the crowded street.

  Drake looked over at Lissa, smiled reassuringly in the silence, took her hand and squeezed it lovingly. She returned the smile and leaned her head back onto the headrest, reminded momentarily of her dream the previous week of driving with the man she loved. This time, however, she could clearly see his face, and it brought her feelings of warmth and peace. Entirely unlike the nightmare she’d faced that night. She wondered again how she could have gotten lucky enough to have been handed the precious gift of Drake’s love. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt when Drake swerved hard right, turning onto 27th Street.