His cell phone buzzed again. “I know you can hardly wait. I’ll make this quick,” he said, taking it out of his pocket. He gazed at the number, and then released his hold on me.
“Yes,” he said into the phone. “The place…we agreed.” His eyes narrowed and his brows slanted in a frown. “No... No… Not yet… That’s where I’ll take her.” He clicked off, moved to the opposite seat, and glared at me without uttering a word. He clenched his teeth, his face tightened, and veins stood out on his neck.
I had assumed he was prepared to kill me after he had taken pleasure in my company. Something must’ve delayed his plans. Maybe Cameron wanted to talk to me about the missing documents—the ones that were torn out of the book. The ones I didn’t have.
“We’ve got a tail again,” the driver said.
Saul pushed the intercom button. “I’ll get rid of the bastard. Take the next exit and stop wherever you can,” he hissed, then shifted around on the seat. “Is this asshole following you?”
I stared at him without answering.
“Besides Conner, who else knows you’re leaving?”
“No one else,” I said, trying to remain calm.
“Does Brett?”
“Who told you about him?”
“Is he the tail?”
I wondered if Saul thought I was stupid enough to help him determine who it was. It probably was Brett, since he planned on taking me away today.
“Does a man by the name of Alex Barton work for the Crussett family?” I asked, thinking this was my opportunity to find out if the Crussetts played a role in my friend Paula’s death.
“How do you know him? Don’t tell me he’s the tail.”
I surmised that Alex did work for the family. “What would you do if he was?”
“We’ll see about that.” He jerked out his phone just as the limo stopped on a two-lane street. A horde of people moved along the sidewalk in front of shops and an office building. He pushed the intercom button. “Move farther down the street where there aren’t so many people.”
The limo eased back into the traffic.
Saul punched some numbers on his cell. “Hey…Where are you?…No …Not important…I’ll tell him.” He hung up. “Alex is nowhere around here. Where did you meet him?”
Staring at him, I remained silent and felt the limo stop again. I looked out the window and saw a sparse number of people walking on the sidewalk.
“Stay here.” Saul opened the door and climbed out. It appeared he still planned on having a confrontation, even with witnesses. I followed him and watched a sedan stop by the curb.
“Get back in the limo,” Saul demanded.
“No.”
His attention turned away from me when Brett stepped out of the car and walked toward us. I attempted to move around Saul. He pushed me back.
“What do you want?” Saul asked Brett.
“I want Sara,” Brett replied.
A crowd started to form as people lingered to listen.
Saul grabbed my arm and jerked me in front of him. With his other hand, he drew a gun from under his blazer and aimed the barrel at my head.
A woman in the crowd gasped.
“You want this Sara,” Saul snapped. “The one with the rough hands?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you think I’ll let her go with you?”
Brett glared at him. “If you don’t, you’ll die.”
Saul swung the pistol toward Brett and pulled the trigger. I heard the sound of a bone cracking, flesh and soft organs being pierced as the bullet penetrated Brett’s chest.
I screamed, wiggled away from Saul, and ran to Brett. Kneeling next to him as blood oozed through his shirt, I held my hands tightly over the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. “I’m here. I’m here. Don’t die,” I cried.
Brett touched my cheek. “It’ll be okay.”
Saul gripped my arm and attempted to pull me away.
“No,” I yelled. “I’m not leaving him.”
Brett clutched Saul’s leg.
Saul yanked me up. “Yes, you are,” he ordered, pointing his weapon at my face.
Kicking him, I shouted, “Help. Someone help.” No one in the crowd moved. I scratched Saul’s hand, trying to loosen his hold.
Saul winced. “What have you got that’s sharp?” he asked, forcing my hand up and twisting it around.
As I continued struggling with him, Brett tugged Saul’s leg. Saul staggered, falling toward me. I felt something being wrapped around my waist while Saul held onto me, pulling me down with him.
Falling next to Brett, my head slammed into the sidewalk. My vision blurred. Everything around me began to spin. I caught a glimpse of Saul’s eyes. They were frozen in fear. That was the last thing I saw before blackness took over.
17
A New Phase
Over the course of several minutes, I awoke slowly. The gradual reactivation of my senses allowed me to smell the wonderful scent of lilacs. My eyes flashed around the stark, white room and I saw medical equipment attached to the wall. Next to the bed, a drip bag hung with a tube hooked to a hypodermic needle inserted in my arm. My hands were wrapped in bandages. I couldn’t move my feet. With my bandaged hands, I managed to uncover my legs. My feet were also bandaged; the wrapping went above my ankles. I wondered how I ended up here. A large bouquet of lilacs with roses scattered throughout, probably from Conner, stood on the nightstand. I couldn’t imagine anyone else could have sent them since whoever did knew lilacs were my favorite flower.
The door squeaked open. “Good morning, Miss Jones,” a woman in a white uniform said, entering the room. “I thought you were awake since your heart monitor jumped.”
As she came closer I saw her badge, indicating her name was Mabel, a registered nurse. “What happened?” I asked.
“You fell and hit your head.” She checked the tubes attached to my arm. “Dr. Shaw’s been seeing you for your head injury. He says you’ll be just fine in a few days.”
“What about my hands and feet?”
“You were bitten by a poisonous spider. The man who called 9-1-1 told the dispatcher that. Otherwise, we’d still be running tests to determine the cause of the condition of your hands and feet.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“Dr. Alston wrapped them before I came on duty so I haven’t seen them. According to the chart, they’re covered with rough lesions and secreting fluids.”
Thinking of pus oozing out of my hands and feet, I wrinkled my nose and pursed my lips. “I have two doctors—Dr. Shaw and Dr. Alston?”
“Yes. You’re very fortunate that the son of the renowned Dr. Alston was in town lecturing.”
“Renowned for what?”
“For his research and publications on spider and insect bites. He’s considered the number one in his field. The young Dr. Alston is following in his father’s footsteps. He decided to take you on as his patient. He checked on you earlier this morning and said he’d be back before noon.”
“A man was shot right before I fell. Can you tell me his condition?”
She picked up a clipboard attached to the foot of the bed and looked through several pages. “Another man was brought in from the same location. He had also been bitten. I don’t have information about a patient with a gunshot wound.”
Tears filled my eyes. “Would you … would you know if the man who was shot died?” I stammered, crying.
The nurse took some tissues and gently wiped my cheeks. “Miss Jones, I’ll check on it. No one has mentioned anything about a gunshot victim. Dr. Shaw did say that you might not be able to think clearly for a few days because of your head injury. Try to stay calm while I see what I can found out.”
“Could you hurry?” I sniffled.
“Yes. I’ll do it right now,” she said, leaving.
I brushed the tears from my face with the bandages on my hands. If Brett wasn’t brought to the hospital, he must be in the morgue.
The door opened and
in walked Lance, the dark-eyed man, wearing a white lab coat.
I jumped up to a sitting position as my spine stiffened and my eyebrows arched. My hands trembled, my lips quivered, and I couldn’t prevent my eyes from watering as fear surged through my body. “You’re …Doctor…Dr. Alston?” I stuttered through the lump in my throat.
“Yes,” he replied, approaching me. “Are you in pain?”
“No.” I bit my lower lip as I tried to calm my nerves.
“Then what is the problem?” he asked, checking the tube attached to my arm.
Wondering if he really was a doctor, and beginning to feel safe since I was in a hospital with nurses and doctors coming and going all the time, I inhaled deeply, and murmured, “Brett’s dead.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“He was shot before I fell. He wasn’t taken to the hospital, so he has to be dead.”
“Brett isn’t dead. I saw him last night after I checked on you. He’s perfectly well and plans on seeing you tomorrow.”
“That’s not possible. He was shot.”
“He thought there could be problems getting you away from the Crussetts, so he wore a bullet-proof vest.”
The bullet struck him. I felt his blood. Maybe he wasn’t injured as badly as I thought. Still, I wouldn’t believe Brett was okay until I saw him with my own eyes. Lance was acting so differently from the way he was in Billings. “Why are you being nice to me?” I asked, feeling suspicious.
“Because you’re my patient.”
“No, that’s not it. Are you sometimes nice to your victims before you kill them?” I inquired, thinking about the events in the clearing and assuming he wouldn’t try anything in the hospital.
His face went still as he clutched my arm and looked at me with dark, mesmerizing eyes. “Now I know that won’t be necessary.”
“You were planning on killing me?”
“That was always a possibility.”
“What made you change your mind?”
Just then, the door swung open. Lance’s posture stiffened as he let go of my arm and backed away from me.
In came Nurse Mabel. “Miss Jones, there were no gunshot victims where you were picked up,” she proclaimed. Then she glanced at Lance. “Miss Jones still has a visitor anxious to see her. When can she have visitors?”
“Let me check her hands and feet first,” Lance answered. “I’ll let you know after that.” He started taking off the bandage on my right hand.
“Is there anything I can get you?” Mabel asked Lance.
“Can you bring in the cart in the hallway?”
“Yes,” Mabel replied and left the room.
“Conner has been here since you were brought in,” Lance said. “Do you want to see him?”
“Right now I want to finish our conversation before the nurse comes back. What made you change your mind about killing me?”
“It’s difficult for me to discuss. Lindsey will be here later today. She’ll explain.”
Nurse Mabel returned with the cart and stood it next to Lance. “Do you want me to help remove the bandages from her other hand and her feet?”
“No. I’ll take care of it,” Lance replied.
Nurse Mabel walked out, closing the door behind her.
“Did you know Lindsey before Brett introduced her to you at the theater in Billings?”
“Yes. I’ve known her for a long time.”
“And how long have you known Brett?”
“A long time.”
“Then why all the pretending? Brett said he knew you because you were Rex’s neighbor. He wasn’t in Billings for a long time.”
“That’s right. He only arrived a few days before you.”
Brett told me he had been there for a couple of months before I came. Another lie. “The elderly woman, Mildred something, who sat next to me on the bus when I left Houston, do you know her?”
“Yes, but only briefly. She was hired to convince you to go to Billings.”
“What if she failed to convince me?”
“We had ten individuals lined up after her, each more persuasive than the last.”
“And if they all failed?”
“We would have just kidnapped you. To be honest, I was surprised you were so easy to persuade.”
“How… how did you know I’d be on that bus?”
He finished removing the bandage and turned my hand over so the palm was up. All my fingers were covered with small bumps. No pus. “I didn’t know exactly what bus you’d be taking. I knew you’d be leaving soon,” he said, removing the bandage from my other hand.
“How?”
My fingers on that hand were also covered with small bumps that looked like goose bumps. I had never heard of anyone having this type of reaction to a spider bite or any poisonous arthropod bite. Lance ran his fingers over mine.
“I’ll answer any questions you have after Lindsey talks to you,” he replied. Then his eyes narrowed and he stared at me. “Saul also wants to see you.”
I flinched and pressed my lips together.
Lance continued, “I’ll tell him you’re well enough for visitors now.”
I clenched my teeth as a surge of anger swept through me. My hands tingled. I glanced down and saw stiff hairs or something like that, sticking out of the bumps.
Lance touched them and smiled. “Good girl. Don’t worry, Saul can’t come and visit you.”
“What’s happened to my hands?” With wide open eyes, I watched the hairs retracting into the bumps.
“I wanted to see it for myself, that’s all,” he said. “You need to be upset for that to occur.”
“My… my hands … what happened to my hands?”
“Relax.” He moved his fingers over mine. “This is completely natural for your current phase. Your hands will look fine after the transformation.”
“What?”
“Lindsey will explain.” He opened the bottom cart drawer and took out a pair of thick, plastic-coated gloves. “These will help if you should get angry.” He carefully slid them on my hands. “We don’t want any more unplanned victims.”
“Victims? Unlike you, I don’t have victims.”
“Calm down. If I wasn’t immune, I would’ve been your next victim.”
“My next victim? What other victims have I had?”
“Only Saul, but Brett helped with him.” He scanned my face. “Don’t look so worried. You’ll be all right after the transformation.”
Saul. Remembering his empty eyes, staring at me wide-open, I believed he had been bitten. I assumed Brett had spiders. There was no way I was even partially responsible. I needed answers and could hardly wait for Lindsey to show up. Then I wondered what I would do if I didn’t like the answers.
He unwrapped my feet and squeezed my toes. “Are you in pain anywhere?”
“No.”
Reaching in the drawer, he pulled out a pair of heavy, plastic-coated socks, and put them on my feet. “Let’s see if you can walk.” He took my arm and helped me stand.
I wobbled toward the door. “My feet feel like I’m walking on loose sand.”
“That’s normal for your condition.”
“My condition?”
“Yes,” he replied without explaining. He held my arm and eased me down on the edge of the bed. Then he pulled out another cart drawer, extracted a bottle of dark red liquid, and opened it. Venotrolia was written on the side.
“I want you to drink this,” he said, inserting a straw in it.
“Is this the same stuff I drank in Billings?”
“So you remember. Even if things were a little hazy for you, I didn’t think you’d believe you were dreaming. This is almost the same. It’s missing an ingredient.”
“What ingredient?”
“Something that deferred your current condition.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Now you’ll be able to control your desires, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I still don’
t want to drink it,” I said, knowing I had been lied to in the past. It had taken me a long time to get it out of my system. I didn’t want to find myself trying to attack some orderly.
“Sara,” he said in a firm, somber tone, “You can either drink this or I’ll have it fed to you intravenously. Which would you prefer?”
“Neither,” I said, determined. “And you can’t make me. I’m going to check myself out of the hospital.”
His brows rose, creasing his forehead. “You are not well enough to leave.”
I didn’t feel safe. The Crussetts were outside of the hospital and the spider cult was inside. Wherever I went, they would look for me. I had the choice of running for the rest of my life or letting them get me. I wouldn’t give them the pleasure of chasing me around or meddling in my life any longer. I was going home. “You can’t keep me here if I want to leave.” I leaned over to push the call button. He grabbed my gloved hand.
“Okay … okay. You don’t have to drink it. Your hands and feet will start to hurt in a few hours. This isn’t one of the medications available here.”
“Why … why isn’t it available here? It’s not a medication, is it?”
“You are the only patient in the hospital that requires this formula. That’s why it isn’t in their stock. There is no one here who can administer it, except me. When you are in pain and change your mind, you’ll have to wait until I return.”
Only time would tell whether or not this was another lie. “Then I won’t check myself out today.”
“Good,” he said, screwing on the bottle cap and putting it away. “Do you want to see Conner before you experience pain in your hands and feet?”
I didn’t know if I ever wanted to see him. Yet, I couldn’t avoid it forever, and I thought he deserved being told goodbye in person. “Yes,” I said, exhaling in reluctance. “He did send me lilacs.”
“You like lilacs?” he inquired.
“Yes, they’re my favorite flower,” I replied and watched the corner of Lance’s lips slightly curve up. Maybe he liked lilacs, too.
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