The Simpatico Series Box Set (3 books in 1)

by Dermot Davis

  “Miss?” a soft female voice said from behind. Fiona turned to see a young Hispanic woman approach her.

  “Yes?” Fiona asked, wondering if the young woman had maybe left something at the window.

  “Last time they took my husband from inside, they no tell me where they take him,” the woman said. “They gave me run around, also.”

  “Oh, did you find him?” Fiona asked. “Where they had taken him?”

  “Eventually,” the young woman said, her tone suggesting that it was a nightmare. “They take him to hospital.”

  “Oh,” Fiona said, surprised and panicked by the implications. “Was he alright?”

  “He was in a fight; they hurt him pretty good,” the woman said sadly.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Fiona said sympathetically. “Which hospital was it?”

  “County hospital,” she answered, pointing in the direction. “Not many blocks from here. Maybe you check there.”

  “Thank you so much,” Fiona said gratefully. “If it’s so close, it’s definitely worth checking out.”

  “They give him different name,” the woman said just as Fiona was leaving. “They don’t want you to find him. They would not let us visit to see him.”

  “Wow,” Fiona said, seeing in the woman's eyes how difficult and painful the experience was for her. “They wouldn’t let his family come visit. That’s effed up.” Fiona patted the young woman’s arm and her eyes filled with tears of compassion.

  Fiona knew in her soul that the woman was right about where Andrew had been taken. She left the building and, in the hot sun, walked towards the hospital. If they had changed his name for the hospital record, she wondered how she was going to find him, never mind get to visit with him. How would she get past security? How would she find what name they had him registered under? What was she going to do?

  Unanswered questions rebounded about in her brain as she entered the hospital grounds. Looking at the passing pedestrians gave her a hint of how she could answer some of them. It became immediately clear that doctors, nurses and staff could move freely within the buildings, without being hassled by security. Although many of them wore identity badges, if she could somehow get hold of a staff uniform, she might be able to walk about unchallenged within the main hospital itself.

  I need to get hold of a nurse’s outfit, she told her subconscious. Trusting that the universe would provide, she continued on her walk. As she did so, she remained alert and watchful for any signs or clues that could answer her need.

  Stopping still in her walk, she noticed something in her peripheral vision. A rack of clothes stood outside what looked like a used clothing store. When she walked closer, she could see a sign above that said: Second Time Around: Thrift Store.

  It was what she needed. Entering the crowded, ramshackle store, she headed straight toward the ladies clothing racks. She knew before she found them what she was going to find: lots and lots of used hospital uniforms. Grabbing some matching white outfits that might fit, she took them into the fitting room. Selecting the closest to her in size, she checked herself out in the mirror.

  Smiling the broadest smile that she had smiled all week, she marveled at how well she looked in a nurse’s outfit. Damn, but you look good, she said to her reflection. With new-found confidence and a spring in her step she left the store as a petite, attractive nurse.

  Attracting some complimentary looks from passing males, she walked into the main hospital. Breezing her way past security, she smiled at the guards as if they were her close friends. Scanning every sign in sight for the right direction, she landed at the elevators. As other hospital staff gathered around her, she instructed her subconscious mind to lead her to the right floor.

  Lead me to Andrew, she commanded to herself.

  Once in the elevator, she calmed her mind as best she could and watched as the lights on the panel counted upwards. There were four floors but she didn’t get a sense that the first three held any reward for her. Once on the fourth floor, and not wanting to appear indecisive, she left the elevator and took a hard right.

  It was a wrong turn: straight ahead was a nurse’s station where nurses were gathered, chatting. She knew right away that if she proceeded any further she would be challenged by the very people that could easily blow her cover. Stopping at a doorway of a private room, she lifted a medical folder from the clear plastic holder on the wall by the door. She checked it out as if it was her task. Taking the folder with her, she returned back towards the elevators.

  “That’s weird,” a nurse at the station said, having witnessed Fiona’s theft.

  “What?” another nurse asked, looking around to see what she just missed.

  “That nurse just grabbed Watson’s medical file and walked off with it.”

  “Oh,” the other nurse said, “maybe Dr. Sarkasian requested it?”

  “Maybe,” the nurse replied, looking not entirely convinced.

  Turning the corridor, file in hand, Fiona used it as a prop. Slowing down in her walk every now and then, she pretended to read it while stealthily scanning her surroundings. When she saw an officer with a Sherriff’s badge grab himself some coffee at a vending machine, she felt hopeful. She knew that she was close. Andrew was nearby; she could sense his proximity.

  She looked through the glass at a body at the end of the ward that lay low in the bed. She could see neither head nor legs nor even deduce its sex but deep within her, she knew that it was Andrew.

  Imagining herself to be a working nurse, she entered the ward. As she got closer, she took a deep breath and preparing herself mentally for whatever messed up condition he may be in. What would a nurse do that could get her close enough to him so that they could talk without them being found out, she wondered? Looking around one last time to check where the staff were positioned, she gave herself the all-clear to approach him.

  She walked to the end of the bed and pulled the chart. Stalling for time, she pretended to study the line-by-line entries. Drifting her eyes to look past the chart, her heart briefly stopped. Andrew’s face looked horrific. Distorted with inflammation and nasty, multi-colored bruises, bandages covered most of his head. Oh, Andrew, she felt like saying out loud, you poor thing, what did they do to you?

  Willing herself not to give in to a strong impulse to lie down on the bed beside him, she held the chart firm in her hands. Wanting desperately to hold him and hug him and kiss his face a thousand and more times, she struggled with her desires. As she stood motionless, for what seemed to her like a long time, she talked herself down. Pull yourself together, she told herself, knowing that if she got caught now, she would never get to see him.

  “And how are we doing today?” she asked cheerfully, finally moving to his bedside.

  With a sudden burst of recognition, Andrew’s eyes opened wide.

  “Shush,” she said quickly as his lips began forming to say her name. “Have you taken any liquids today?” she asked, fooling around with his IV drip.

  “No,” Andrew said, surprised beyond reason. “I mean, yes,” he then corrected himself.

  “I need to take your pulse,” she said, lifting up his left wrist. She got a fright when she saw that he was handcuffed to the bed-rail. “You okay with that?” she asked, recovering from her shock.

  “Absolutely,” Andrew answered, unable to prevent a broad smile breaking out on his face. “Ow, that hurts,” he then said, realizing that that was the first time he had smiled since his hospital admission.

  Pretending to have a watch, Fiona did her impression of a nurse reading a patient’s pulse.

  “I left my body,” Andrew said loud enough for only her to hear. “I think my heart stopped for like a few seconds. Maybe I died, passed out or something but I did that thing that you were talking about. I left my body!”

  “You went out of your body?” Fiona asked. "You could look down at yourself?

  “Yes!” Andrew answered.

  “That’s so fantastic, sweetie,” Fiona sai
d, forgetting herself for a second. Seeing a doctor and nurse visit the bed at the end of the ward quickly sobered her up.

  “He’s doing his rounds,” Andrew said, following her look. “We don’t have much time. I’m going to escape.”

  “What?” Fiona asked with concern. “You need to take it easy and get lots of rest,” she said more formally as the officer returned to his chair.

  “Listen,” Andrew whispered urgently. “This is a regular hospital; much easier to escape from here…”

  “Your vital signs are improving,” Fiona said, shifting her position.

  “I have it worked out,” Andrew continued. “The 28th of this month; they’re replacing all the TVs in here with flat screens. There’s going to be lots of workers and things being moved around and stuff…”

  Fiona turned her back as she watched the doctor and nurse move to another bed.

  “Meet me on the cliff at sunset,” Andrew said, “the 28th.”

  “I will,” Fiona said, a tear about to trickle from her eye.

  “Don’t go till I call you,” Andrew said quietly.

  “My dad took my phone,” Fiona whispered.

  “Everything okay there, nurse?” the officer asked from his chair.

  “Yes, of course,” Fiona replied politely. “Low blood pressure,” she then said.

  “Okay,” Andrew said softly, thinking quickly. “Look out your window at the tree just outside your gate.”

  “The tree?” Fiona asked quietly.

  “If you see a white sheet tied to a branch, you know I’ve made it,” he whispered.

  “A white sheet on the 28th,” Fiona softly said, as much to herself so as not to forget as an acknowledgment to Andrew.

  “If I don’t make it…” Andrew said, looking down at the approaching nurse and doctor, “I’ll leave my body. For good.”

  “Oh, Andrew,” Fiona said, fiddling pointlessly with a blood pressure monitor.

  “Otherwise, what’s the point?” Andrew said.

  “If I don’t see the white sheet,” Fiona said, her tears now flowing freely, “so will I. I will leave my body to meet you.”

  “We can fly to the heavens, together,” Andrew said smiling. “Just like you said we could.”

  “I want so much to fly with you, my darling,” Fiona said.

  “I love you, Fi,” Andrew said and then noticed the officer looking curiously at them. “You need to go,” Andrew then said urgently as he got up from his chair. “Now.”

  “I love you too, my soul mate,” Fiona said as she gently touched his face and left.

  The officer watched with suspicion as Fiona left the ward.

  “Low blood pressure,” Andrew said, attracting the officer’s attention. “The least of my worries, right?”

  The officer checked that Andrew was still cuffed to the bed rail and once satisfied, returned to his chair. He did not see the startled look on Andrew’s face as he watched Fiona walk boldly back in and head directly towards him.

  “You need to read this,” she said imperiously as she extended a brochure to Andrew. “It explains the dangers of having low blood pressure.”

  “Thank you, nurse,” Andrew said as he took the brochure from her hand. Glancing at the officer, he again noticed his interest. He also noticed that the doctor and nurse had made their way to the bed beside him. “Could you get me a bedpan, please,” Andrew asked Fiona loudly. “Urgently,” he added, as if telling her to scram fast.

  “Of course,” Fiona said as she winked with her hidden eye and quickly scarpered away.

  “Nurse!” the doctor called as Fiona was walking out the door.

  “She’s gone to get me a bedpan,” Andrew quickly interjected.

  Falling for the ruse, the doctor resumed his checkup on the neighboring patient. Making sure that the officer’s attention was not on him, Andrew looked at the brochure. It was a general brochure about the hospital which Fiona must have grabbed from one of the information desks. Hiding inside were three twenty-dollar bills. Boy, I so love that girl, he said to himself and smiled.

  Prior to Fiona’s visit, Andrew had been planning an escape. Now that she was also on board, he was determined to make it happen. Running a mental checklist in his head, he calculated what he needed to have it be a success. In order to determine his requirements, he realized that he needed to start with the escape end result first and then run it backwards.

  What would the escape look like, exactly?

  In his head he imagined the day in question. Workmen would be installing TVs, running cable and generally getting in the way of patients and staff. Although the workmen may be a distraction, there were still two main problems for Andrew to solve: number one, getting out of the handcuffs and number two, evading the officers who rotated on a 24/7 watch.

  Getting himself out of the handcuffs turned out to be easier than he expected. The problem solved itself when a nurse dropped the tube of ointment that she was using. When Andrew later found it among the sheets, he got some on his fingers. Noticing how slick and gel-like it was, he knew right away that that was how he was going to slip his left hand right out of the metal handcuffs. Probably concerned about his wounds, the guard seldom put the cuffs on very tightly. By smothering his left hand in the gel, he was sure he could squeeze his hand and slip it out without too much trouble.

  Once free of the handcuffs, he would bide his time to make a getaway. The guards seldom left the chair, even when switching with each other in shifts. The longest time that he had seen any guard be away was when the day guard took a bathroom break after lunch. Presumably that was the time of day that he moved his bowels. Upon his return, the guard seldom, if ever, made a physical check of the handcuffs. Instead, he usually looked over to see if the bed was still occupied.

  What Andrew needed to do for the next several days was to get into the habit of resting in the bed in a certain way. If the officer was only looking for a body beneath the blankets, then, on escape day, he could replace his body with pillows and the guard would be none the wiser. The ruse would at least give him enough time to flee the hospital and lose himself into the city. As well as stashing away a white sheet, to take with him on the day, he would ask for extra pillows.

  Making sure not to be released before the planned escape date, Andrew determined to constantly ask the doctor for a possible return to prison date. As his body got stronger he decided that he would also ask that the guard escort him around the hospital corridors so that he could get some exercise. By so doing, he would check out his best escape route and regain some strength. He would also make a note of what other rooms were on the floor that might contain anything useful, like uniforms or street clothes.

  He would also check out where the other patients on the ward kept their stuff. Already, he could see where he could grab some house slippers and even a few pairs of shoes. Robes hung by their beds, one or two of which he could maybe turn inside out to make them look like an overcoat.

  Freedom, here I come, he said to himself as he nodded off for his afternoon nap.

  Chapter 15

  Fiona very much wanted to be excited about the escape being planned by Andrew but in her heart, she felt nothing but despair. She was worried that he would get caught, hurt or even killed in his attempt. Unusually for her, she couldn’t see a silver lining.

  If he got caught, he would get an even heftier sentence than the one that he was currently serving. They could also send him to a maximum security prison, or a facility outside of town, where visiting might be curtailed or not even allowed. Should he persist in his escape attempts, he could very possibly spend the rest of his life behind bars.

  Her anxiety about the impending escape day made it practically impossible for her to sleep at night. Even if he was successful in his attempt, what kind of life could they have together? Their earlier, short-lived adventure to secure a new life for themselves had ended disastrously. Their dreadful flight to Kansas was clear proof that a life on the run was really no kind of lif
e, at all.

  Spiraling into a deep depression, Fiona lost all appetite. She lost even more weight, which her body could ill-afford to shed. Confined mostly to her bedroom, she spent her day drifting in and out of daydreams and astral traveling. In fact, she found more comfort out of her body than imprisoned within it.

  At night, she would visit Andrew. The novelty of the initial few visits had worn off, however. There was only so much visiting she could take when Andrew was mostly asleep or drugged up and oblivious to her presence. His broken body was still healing. Still, each night she would visit him in his hospital room. Seeing him asleep was better than not seeing him at all.

  She liked to hold his hand as he slept. As she did so, she wondered what dreams was he dreaming? Did he dream of her each night, as she dreamed of him? Did he find a freedom in his dreams that he lacked in his day-to-day life? Or did his dreams haunt and disturb him? Judging by his pained facial expression, and the way that he ground his teeth, she feared the latter.

  “I’m very concerned about you, pumpkin,” her father said when she walked to the kitchen to get some water. “You’re wasting away to nothing. What can I do to make you happy?” he asked with great warmth and concern. “If there’s anything at all I can do, I’d be glad to do it. Just mention it, I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

  “There’s really nothing you can do that you haven’t done already, father,” Fiona answered as she poured herself a glass of water and sipped it.

  Unable to ascertain her mood and possible implied accusation, Simon looked at her closely for any clues. “Do you hold me responsible for anything?” he asked. “For what went wrong between you two? I don’t blame you, if you do,” he said, struggling to connect.

  “Why would I blame you, daddy? What did you do?” she asked.

  “I’d like to know what you think I did,” he answered. “I feel like you’re holding something against me," he said as he got closer to her. "Like you do blame me. But you won’t tell me and it’s tearing me apart inside, Fiona. It truly is. Won’t you at least talk to me?” he pleaded.