“Are we about ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, Doc,” Gus said. “Just another minute.”
“Well, hurry it up,” Doctor McKenzie said. “We’ve got a recipient coming in for a kidney in an hour.”
He shut the door and Gus gestured at me with the gun. “You heard the man, hurry up.”
I finished taking off my shirt and began folding it up. Mick whacked my hands and I dropped the shirt.
“Quit stalling,” he said.
I picked up the shirt and put it on the chair, then unzipped my jeans and slid them off, followed by my socks. They ended up on the chair as well.
“Underwear, too,” Gus said. “And put this on.” He handed me the hospital gown. And yes, it was the typical gown that tied in the back and left your ass hanging in the wind.
I shucked my underwear and donned the gown. Goose bumps broke out on my arms, part from the chill in the air, more from fear. I was running out of options and time.
“Now what?” I asked.
“We wait,” Gus said. He stood back a few feet, the gun still aimed at me.
I reached around and fiddled with the back of the gown, trying to get it to cover my backside. “So let me guess what happened,” I said. I gave up on the gown and crossed my arms.
Gus leaned against the wall. “I’m listening. This ought to be good.”
“Noel Farrell was hired to find out what kind of trouble Trevor Welch was in and he discovered this illegal harvesting operation, so you had to get rid of him.”
“Big deal, anyone could’ve guessed that,” Mick said.
“Yeah,” Gus said. He pointed to the table. “Sit down.”
Too much of the equipment was on the side of the table nearest me so I shuffled around to the other side, slid up on the table and tried to cover myself with the gown. My back was now to the door and I shifted nervously and stared at the black-out material that covered the window.
“And then I showed up looking for Farrell and you had to get rid of me,” I said.
Gus took a couple of steps to his left so he could look me in the eyes. “We didn’t know how much Farrell told you, so we had to take care of you, too.”
“But I’m still here.”
“Not for long.” Gus smiled. “And wasn’t it nice of you to provide us with a gun so we could get rid of Farrell.”
I wished my cell phone was recording this, but I’m sure it had long since cut off the call to Willie. I wondered about the recording app. Was it picking up the conversation or was the phone too far away now?
“And what about Trevor Welch?” I asked.
“That punk’s about to blow the whistle on this whole thing, so we need to get rid of him, too.”
“You need to?” I was incredulous that Gus would pretend he hadn’t killed Welch. “You already got rid of him.”
“Huh?” His face was blank.
“Come on, Gus. I’m going to die here,” I said. “So you can tell me the truth. You went up to the cabin and you smothered him.”
“What cabin?” Confusion crossed his face. “We tried to find him, but we couldn’t and we sure didn’t kill him.”
“What? You…” My voice trailed off as another piece fell into place. “Of course,” I murmured.
I thought back to my visit to Quinn’s cabin. Another set of tire tracks led right up to the cabin. Footsteps led up to the door. Who could’ve driven up that road and parked right outside the cabin, then walked up to the door without spooking Trevor into running? Not Gus, who Welch was hiding from. It was someone Welch knew.
“Quinn,” I said.
“That’s right,” a deep voice behind me said.
I twisted around and stared over my shoulder. Quinn had quietly come into the room. He stood next to Gus, and I noticed how similar they looked. Same build, hair close to the same color. So when Hugh Ryerson described the guy they’d met in person, I’d assumed it was Gus, but I’d bet it was Quinn.
“You’ve caused us quite a bit of trouble,” Quinn said. He picked up a scalpel from the tray table and moved around the operating table where he could talk to me face-to-face. He twisted the scalpel around as he talked. “And you’ll rue this day. And if you two,” he turned to Gus and Mick, “had taken care of things like I asked, we wouldn’t be here now.”
A missing piece of my memory suddenly came back to me. I’d heard that phrase before. How many people said “rue the day”? “You.” I pointed to Quinn. “You were there when these two beat me up.”
Quinn nodded.
Gus jerked his head at me. “We had to mess you up. We didn’t know what you knew.”
“You’re an idiot,” Quinn said to Gus. “If you hadn’t jumped the gun with Farrell, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“We had to get Farrell out of the way.”
“No, I’d threatened him and that was working fine.”
“If that was working, then why’d he call this guy?” Gus waved a hand at me. “Farrell had things figured out and he was going to tell not only Trevor’s mother, but the police, so we had to act.”
“You could’ve let me handle it, but no, you killed him,” Quinn said.
“With Ferguson’s gun,” Mick said. “No way to trace it back to us.”
“And then you go after this guy,” Quinn pointed at me again, “but instead of using your brain to find out what he knew, you try and kill him, too, but you botched it.”
“It needed to look like an accident,” Mick said.
Quinn gestured at my face. “Oh, it looks like an accident. It just didn’t kill him. You said you tampered with the brakes, so why isn’t he dead?”
“We did disable the brakes,” Mick continued. “And we got him drunk and he should’ve crashed. End of story.”
“Then why are we here?” Quinn asked.
“Listen, you punk,” Gus growled. “You were in on it.”
“If I’d been in on it, he’d be dead,” Quinn said. “Too bad I had to check on Dad.”
I stared at Quinn. “You’re Strickland’s son?”
Quinn nodded.
“So that’s how Trevor Welch got pulled into all this,” I said.
“He needed money,” Quinn said. “And it just so happened his kidney was a good match for Dad.”
That’s why Strickland appeared to be in pain. He’d recently had surgery, I thought.
“So you knew Welch had money trouble,” I said. “That night at B 52’s when we talked. You knew everything.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I played along with you.”
He’d done a great job and he’d fooled me. “But why kill him?”
“Trevor’s conscience got to him,” Quinn said, “and he was going to tell his mother how he got the money.”
“And you couldn’t let that happen.” I glared at him. “So you off your best friend.”
A cold glint flickered in Quinn’s eyes. “Business first.”
“And you went up to the cabin before me,” I said.
Quinn shrugged. “Once you came to me, I knew it was only a matter of time before you tracked Trev down, and I also wondered when he would come out of hiding, so I knew I’d have to silence him. After we’d talked, I went up that next morning. Trev was surprised to see me, and it was easy to take care of him.”
“But you told me about the cabin yourself. And of course, you knew I’d go up there.”
“No one was planning on going up there for weeks. If his body wasn’t discovered until then, the stink would be unimaginable. I figured I’d let you find him and then I wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“How thoughtful of you,” I said.
Quinn glared at me. “Enough of this. We’re taking care of you once and for all. Lie down on the table.”
I opened my mouth to argue but Gus aimed his gun at me. I swung my legs around, put my feet at one end of the table and lay back. A flimsy sheet covered the table, but cold seeped through, and I shivered. Or maybe that was my fear.
Quinn pull
ed up railings on either side of the table. “Help me tie his arms to those,” he said to Mick.
Mick stepped over, pulled from his pocket the rope that I’d been tied with before and handed it to Quinn. Then Mick pulled another length of rope from his other pocket. Be prepared, I thought. Only I wasn’t dealing with a Boy Scout. Mick securely tied my left arm to the railing, and Quinn tied my right. Only Quinn used what was derisively called a “granny knot” and it was looser than the one that Mick had tied. Apparently Quinn had never been a Boy Scout.
“Good,” Quinn said. He stared down at me. “I’ll be back with the doctor. If you believe in God and confessing your sins before you die, you better get started.”
With that, he set the scalpel back on the tray table and left the room.
I stared up at the ceiling and started to pray.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I had plenty of sins to confess, but what was going through my mind was, “I pray that Willie got the phone call.”
“I can’t stand that guy,” Gus interrupted my thoughts. He was staring at the door.
“Thinks he knows everything,” Mick said.
While they groused to each other, I glanced around. Mick had tied my hands well, but I could still move them. I reached out and tried to grab the scalpel from the tray table, but I couldn’t quite get it. Then I ran out of time.
The door opened and Doctor McKenzie entered, followed by the guy in jeans who’d been here overnight. Behind him came the nurse in purple who’d let us in earlier, and the other nurse who’d also been here during the night. They all wore scrubs, and they all looked tired. Not good when you’re about to perform surgery. But then, they didn’t expect me to live, so what did it matter?
One of the nurses went to a cabinet in the corner, picked up a vial and then filled a syringe with the liquid. When she finished, she set it down and waited. The nurse in purple turned on a machine near the head of the table, then checked some gauges on it. The man, who I assumed was the anesthetist, inspected a different machine. I was relieved to see that they planned to use anesthesia. At least they weren’t going to torture me before they operated on me.
“Doc,” Gus said. “We gotta make sure he hasn’t told anyone about all this.”
McKenzie gazed at Gus for a long moment. “Fine, then.” He turned to the guy in jeans. “Paul, we’ll hold off on the anesthesia.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. So much for not torturing me.
Paul backed up and crossed him arms. Now I knew who he was: the anesthetist. Why that seemed important right now, I did not know.
McKenzie approached the table and looked down on me. “I hope you don’t plan to give us trouble.”
“Oh, I’ll be the model patient,” I said.
He reached out to lift the gown and I butted him with my forehead. He saw it coming and ducked to the left, but I still gave him a glancing blow to the side of his head. I struggled to head-butt him again.
“Damn it!” He put a hand to his head. “Hold him down!”
Gus and Mick rushed up. Gus put his gun to my temple.
“Don’t move,” he snarled.
Both of the nurses gasped. Paul swore and the nurse at the head of the table stepped back to the wall.
“Stop that,” McKenzie snapped at Gus. “You’re scaring everyone. I said hold him down.”
I kicked my feet out and caught Mick on the side. He grunted, then grabbed my legs and pinned them to the table with his big body. Gus rushed around to the head of the table, pushed between some medical equipment, tucked his gun in his waistband, and then wrapped his arms around my neck. I tried to bite him but he pushed a thick forearm under my chin and I gnawed air.
McKenzie waved at the nurse who’d prepared the syringe. “Get the sedative.”
She nodded, snatched the syringe off the counter and approached the table. I bucked my torso and twisted as much as I could. The nurse hesitated.
“Come on,” McKenzie said.
She moved up to the table. McKenzie held my arm. She held up the syringe and flicked it with her finger. Then she lowered it. It seemed like slow motion as the needle came toward my arm. Then the door swung open and Quinn stuck his head in.
“Doc, we got a problem.”
“What?” McKenzie let go of my arm and whirled around.
“Someone’s banging on the front door.” Quinn ran off.
“Who could that be?” McKenzie cursed, then strode after Quinn.
Everyone else in the room remained frozen in place. Then I came to my senses.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Help me!”
Gus smacked me in the face. “Shut up.”
I shouted again and Gus threw his hands over my mouth. He was so close I once again got a whiff of his Sucrets breathe.
“Get me a towel or something,” Gus said.
Paul sprung into action. He opened the cabinet, took out a white towel and tossed it to Gus, who shoved it in my face.
“Mph,” I said as I struggled to breath.
Over the commotion, I thought I heard a sharp pop. Then I did hear a shout.
“Go see what’s going on,” Gus said to Mick.
Mick nodded. He let go of my legs and I kicked at him but missed. He ran out the door.
Gus jerked his head at the nurse with the syringe. “Get that damn needle in him,” he snarled.
“I…” She hesitated.
Gus cursed at her, but still she didn’t move.
Then footsteps pounded outside and Mick flung the door open.
“It’s the cops!” he hissed. “Get out of here!” He waved at Gus. “Knock him out and we’ll sneak him out the back.”
“What about McKenzie?” Gus asked.
“He’s keeping the cops busy out front, so we gotta go now!” Mick said.
“I’ll take care of this.” Gus pushed down hard on the towel over my face. “Get the car started and open the back door.”
The room erupted into chaos. The nurse in purple barreled into the equipment as she tried to run, then tripped and fell to the floor, knocking Paul down in the process. He stumbled to his feet and the two of them staggered over each other on their way out the door. The nurse with the syringe came to her senses, dropped the syringe, and started around the end of the bed. I kicked out my foot and hit her in the stomach. She went down hard, then crawled on her knees across the floor and into the hallway. Gus finally let go of my face and I popped my head up, connecting solidly with his chin. He dropped to the floor and his head hit with a loud crack. He moaned once and lay still.
For the moment, I was alone, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before Mick came back. There was no way Quinn and his gang could allow me to live because I knew everything. I reached out for the scalpel again but I couldn’t get it, so I pulled against the ropes. My right arm wasn’t tied quite as tight as the left, so I frantically pulled against the rope and it finally gave a bit. I struggled and my wrist slipped out of the rope.
“Yes!”
My elation was short-lived. I sat up and tried to get the rope on my left wrist untied, but it wouldn’t give. I reached for the scalpel just as the door opened again and Quinn rushed in. His eyes darted to me, then to Gus lying on the floor. He launched himself at me and I dove to the side and slipped off the table with him on top of me and with my left hand still tied to the railing. The tray table fell over, sending tools and the tray all over. My left arm was still tied to the railing and I ended up sitting on the floor with my arm above my head. Quinn scrambled to his knees and dove at me. He hit me full on and my shoulder wrenched at a funny angle. I yelled in pain and tried to push away from him. I flung out my free hand and found a scalpel on the floor. Quinn punched me in the side as I stabbed him in the thigh with the scalpel.
He screamed and pushed backward, then yanked out the scalpel.
“I’m going to kill you with this,” he snarled.
As he came toward me, I snatched up the tray and swung it at him. It hit him squarely on the
head. That stopped him. He wavered woozily and I hit him again. He toppled over.
I snatched the scalpel from his hand, sliced the rope that held my left arm and I was free. I staggered to my feet and ran out of the room, the gown flapping around me. I looked left. There were two more doors, but neither appeared to be an exit, so I went right. Down the end of the hall was a door that led to the lobby, so I headed that way. As I passed the short hallway that led to the back alley, a shadow slammed into me. I’d forgotten about Mick. We crashed into the wall and all the air left my lungs. I sank to my knees, gasping for breath, then began crawling away.
“Got you,” Mick said as he held onto my leg.
I twisted away from him and pushed myself up, but he clutched at my gown, getting a piece of it in his hand. I jerked backward and tumbled back onto him, my bare backside in his face. He grunted and pushed me away. Then shouts filled the hallway.
“Police! Freeze!”
I got to my knees and held up my hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mick raise his hands as well.
Spillman stood at the end of the hall, her pistol aimed at us. I saw her partners, Ernie Moore and “Spats” Youngfield, behind her, along with a couple of uniformed cops.
“Don’t move,” she said as she edged down the hall.
“There’s two more in that room,” I said and turned to point.
She signaled to Moore. “Go check it out.”
He and Youngfield hurried down the hall past me. I heard Moore snicker as he went by.
Spillman kept her gun on Mick. “Arrest him,” she said to the uniforms. They came forward and performed that duty.
“Am I under arrest, too?” I asked, completely surly.
“Relax, Ferguson,” Spillman said. “We’re not after you.”
“Isn’t that nice.” I sat back and suddenly became aware of my state of undress. I tried to tuck the gown around me. “I apprehended three of them. A nurse and an anesthetist ran out the back.”
“Yeah, we got them. We’re not completely incompetent.”
The Reed Ferguson Mystery series Box Set 3 Page 33