A Killer Cup of Joe

by Jennifer Templeman

  Joe tried to encourage her, but after chatting for a while, she felt the day was beginning to catch up with her and she was ready to go home. There’d been extra adrenaline coursing through her system all day, with a major peak through the evening. She knew the crash was coming, and because she was out of practice, it would no doubt hit her hard.

  When she looked outside, she saw that the van across the street at the Dunkin’ Donuts was already gone. Ellie knew some agents would have followed Luka and since she had stayed inside chatting with Joe, the rest of her team was probably leaving too. She found herself hoping they’d gotten some doughnuts for their trouble this evening, because they didn’t seem to have anything else to show for the time they’d spent cramped in the back of the conversion van.

  “I’m going to head out,” she called to Joe, who was kneeling down to sweep up some trash into a dustpan. It was a strangely domestic task for a man who seemed so large and well-built. He smiled when he noticed her gawking at him, so she quickly left to keep from embarrassing herself further.

  Ellie made it halfway to her car before letting out a low growl in frustration. She hoped Joe was still sweeping up and not watching her mumble to herself like an idiot in the parking lot. What had she missed in the case? The suits were going to have a field day about tonight and she dreaded having to face Miller’s grilling Monday morning. She stepped out of the shadow of the building and into the parking lot, the security light filtering down through the small trees. She wondered if Joe had planted them just as something pricked the back of her arm. Instinctively, she spun around, brushing away whatever had landed on her.

  “We meet again, Miss Michaels,” Lydia spoke in strained voice.

  “Lydia!” Ellie put her hand over her heart. “You scared me.” A warm numbing sensation slowly spread into her arm.

  “You had a long evening with the Master, I see.”

  “Yes...” Ellie knew Luka seemed to be a sore spot for Lydia, but she had spent the evening drinking tea with him surrounded by clear glass where anyone could see them. “He called me and asked if we could get together and catch up, so we met here,” she answered, hoping that was enough to flip the switch back in Lydia’s head. Ellie blinked quickly trying to focus her eyes.

  “I don’t see what the attraction is,” Lydia answered in a softer voice, almost as if she was speaking to herself. “I watched the tapes of your sessions. He kept touching your hands… Over and over he positioned your hands with his. You seemed capable of following directions, but I wouldn’t say you had any passion for what he was trying to teach you. And yet, here he was, lavishing you with attention that you so clearly don’t deserve or even want.”

  “That’s going a bit far,” Ellie defended, her mouth growing dry. What had Lydia just done to her? “I learned a great deal while we were together, and I enjoyed seeing him again this evening.”

  Lydia sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “You didn’t enjoy seeing him... You were given the opportunity to be in his presence,” Lydia corrected. “The fact that you don’t recognize the difference means it was a completely undeserved opportunity.”

  Ellie felt panic rising up inside as her mind automatically flipped over to a detail-obsessed state. The edges of her vision had grown cloudy, but directly in front of her, she noticed that Lydia’s hands were covered with pale latex gloves. Her left hand was flexing, but her right one was tightly clasped around something. In less than two seconds she’d catalogued more details than most people would observe in minutes of intentional concentration.

  “You should have just let me paint your nails, and we could have avoided all of this.”

  Ellie was confused by that comment.

  “You aren’t as pretty as the others, but you are just as foolish,” Lydia admonished, hatred dripping from her voice.

  Ellie looked around, wondering where Phillips was. She couldn’t make out much in her surroundings and remembered the grey shadows in the dream she had before her trip to California. Her mind was crying out to run, but her legs felt like fifty pounds of lead.

  “I’ll give you credit for fighting, but in the end, it will only make things more difficult for you.” As Lydia spoke, the heat of her breath accosted Ellie’s face.

  She wanted to push her away, but Ellie’s hands would not move. Even her instinct to scream for help was cut off because she could no longer draw in a deep breath.

  “You will never understand all the Master was teaching. You will not bloom as a lotus does, and wearing that necklace is insulting to those of us who have devoted our lives to inner perfection.”

  As much as she wanted to struggle, Ellie was powerless to fight the sensations spreading through her body and she fell to her knees, collapsing hard on the pavement. Even though Ellie’s mind was telling her to raise her arms and fight back, it was as though they were stuck in mud, and could not respond to her command.

  Lydia bent over Ellie and ripped the medallion from around her neck. “You don’t deserve this,” she spit the words out with disgust. Dropping the jewelry into her bag on the ground, Lydia pulled out a new one that Ellie knew was specially made, missing some part of the meditating woman.

  Was this what the moment before death felt like? Ellie thought back to the dream about her father, “Diablos…Diablos,” she whispered, her throat too dry to make much sound.

  “Devils are everywhere,” Lydia laughed.

  Ellie wondered what her father thought of as he was dying. She regretted that she would never have the chance to find out what made Joe ask Phillips about her. She would never get to see his reaction to the outfit she’d wanted to wear if he’d ever asked her out on a date. Her thoughts were rushing through her head, faster than usual. She wondered if Anne would tell reporters that she was smart and quiet. At least she had proven Luka was innocent. Her instinct about him had been right all along.

  “Struggle all you want,” Lydia taunted before lifting her hands and encircling Ellie’s neck. “When a lotus flower gets caught under the leaves in the pond, a gardener has to pull it out and throw it away so it doesn’t overcrowd the blossoms thriving at the top. It’s time to get rid of the dead growth here so you don’t ruin what I have worked so hard to nurture.”

  It seemed the more Ellie tried to move, the harder it was to breathe. As she tried to hold onto some semblance of reality, two things happened at once. Lydia’s hands relaxed, and she fell forward directly on Ellie’s face. In the back of her mind, Ellie thought it was unfair to have managed to escape from being strangled to death, only to be suffocated by a limp body instead. Before she could work through the irony of that situation, she heard multiple people running toward her, with a few deep voices yelling out that the FBI was there.

  Just before her ability to draw in a full breath was gone, the dead weight on top of her was yanked away. Even though she knew it was evening, Ellie still didn’t understand why it was so dark.

  From far away, like he was standing at the end of a tunnel, she heard Phil’s voice. “You open your eyes right this minute, young lady.” He sounded furious and so much like her father that she immediately tried to do it.

  When her eyes fluttered open, she noticed there were stars in the sky unobstructed by clouds, which was comforting for some reason.

  Even though there was a whole question running through the teleprompter in her mind, all her mouth could force out was, “...happened?”

  “Damn coffee guy had to save the day because most of the team knocked off without including you in a debriefing first,” her boss answered. “From across the street, it looked like you were talking. But when you didn’t try to protect yourself at the end, I knew she’d somehow tagged you with something, so I ordered this yahoo to move in. Before he could, it appears his cousin beat us both to the punch.”

  Ellie struggled to keep her eyes open and managed to catch a glimpse of Phil’s rapidly moving cane. It was covered in little handcuffs and lines that she chose to believe were just decorative and not
intended to be whips, because Phil owning a piece of art depicting those two items together was more information than anyone should ever have on their boss.

  Next to Phil stood Joe and Phillips, engaged in some kind of near-silent conversation. She could see their lips moving only slightly, but she couldn’t hear a word they were saying. It was like watching two ventriloquists have a discussion, but they’d forgotten to bring their dummies with them.

  The effort of holding her eyes open was quickly too much for her, and as the sound of sirens grew closer, she felt the darkness around her closing in.

  “Ellie!” Phil was yelling at her again. “I told you to open those eyes.”

  “Coffee,” was all she got out. She may have just had her last sustenance in this world, and she’d wasted that honor on a cup of decaffeinated herbal tea. If she had any regrets about how things turned out, it was that she wished she’d ordered coffee instead.

  More voices indicated an ambulance and EMTs had arrived. All kinds of things were being said around her, which, despite her efforts to listen, she was unable to pick up on. She did hear her boss accuse her of being delusional and someone slipping something plastic over her index finger declaring that her pulse ox level was dangerously low. Plastic immediately covered her face, and she could feel the forced oxygen being pumped in an attempt to help her breathe.

  “We need to move her now,” someone shouted.

  She felt a hand brushing her hair back from her face. It was soothing, and she wanted to see who the hand belonged to, but no amount of wishing it could get her eyes to open once more.

  “Damn it, Ellie, you have to keep fighting. If you give up, I’m going to be so mad at you.”

  Ellie knew she couldn’t respond, so she didn’t bother trying, but when they moved her onto a stretcher, she immediately regretted the loss of the hand that had been running through her hair.

  “Bells and whistles, man,” one of the men that climbed into the ambulance called out. “Let’s move.”

  While she’d never been one to want to be the center of attention, having all their bells and whistles thrown her way sounded like a good idea. With that, darkness descended.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Ellie awoke, her head was throbbing, and the only thing to distract her was the sound of hushed voices and a distant beeping she hoped would be turned off soon.

  Ellie heard a cane and limping footsteps moving toward her, and assumed it was Phil. Flashes of memories seemed to flood her all at once. Drinking tea with Luka, being attacked by Lydia, memories of her father, a soft touch, and then loud sirens. Lydia had been the killer they’d been after. Ellie’s gut had told her Luka was innocent and something was wrong with the older woman, but because another agent had said that wasn’t possible, Ellie had pushed her instinct away and nearly paid for it with her life.

  That thought brought on a bit of panic at how close she’d come to failing. As she continued to think on what could have been, the alarm from the background seemed to be getting louder. If someone didn’t shut it off soon, she was going to be forced to open her eyes in order to find help, and Ellie really didn’t want to open her eyes while her head felt like it was being ripped apart.

  “Come on, Ellie. You need to calm down.” Ellie instantly recognized the deep voice on her right. Why was Phillips there? “You’re in the hospital, and you’ve been through…hell. Just settle down, and we’ll get the doctor to come explain everything to you.”

  Ellie nodded slowly, not wanting to tempt fate that movement would make her feel worse.

  “Ah, Miss Michaels,” a friendly voice spoke near her feet—Ellie was going to assume that was the doctor Phillips had just promised. “You gave us a scare.”

  She wanted to ask so many questions, but instead, grimaced as she tried to figure out how she’d scared them. Wasn’t all of this Lydia’s fault? What had she done wrong?

  “I think what the doctor means,” Phillips jumped in, speaking softly and sounding even closer than he had been a moment before, “is that after everything went down last night, they brought you here to check you out, but breathing was difficult because of what Lydia had used to drug you.”

  “Right.” The doctor’s voice picked up once more, apparently not impressed with the job Phillips was doing of explaining things. “The compound she injected into you was a combination of anesthetic, a strong muscle relaxant, paralytic, and anti-inflammatories that were designed to attack all your major muscle groups at once. The adrenaline in your system intensified the drugs’ potency, causing some residual side effects. Obviously, you are the only survivor that we are aware of to have received this drug, so we are trying to treat your symptoms as they come.”

  “Symptoms?” Ellie couldn’t stay quiet any longer. Apparently, being strangled wasn’t the worst thing Lydia had tried to do to her, and the sooner she got all the facts, the sooner she could move forward.

  “Your respiratory system was beginning to shut down, so we had to assist you with breathing for a while. You appear to be holding your own now with just some oxygen. Likewise, your heart wasn’t maintaining a steady rhythm, but we got that back into arrhythmia, and it seems to be staying there and getting more in line with your usual resting heart rate.”

  It was a helpful explanation because she felt like she’d been hit by a Mack truck. “Once you wake up a little more fully, we’ll assess you for muscle weakness in your arms and legs. The men who saw your attack said you lost the use of your extremities, so my guess is they will return to full use soon, if they haven’t already.”

  “Test now,” she demanded, not willing to wait until she felt better before she found out if Lydia had managed to take more than her pride in how this whole thing ended.

  Phillips laughed softly beside her. On her left, she could hear Phil start banging his cane on the floor, and she knew he was getting irritated with something.

  “First,” the doctor redirected, “how do you feel? Any discomfort or pain?”

  “Head hurts,” she gritted out, realizing that having spoken six words since she woke up had effectively left her with a horrible case of cotton mouth and a sore throat. “So does everything else.”

  “I’ll have something brought in for the pain,” he responded. “There’s no reason for you to be in discomfort while you wait for your body to burn the remnants off. Anything else?”

  “Thirsty,” she wondered why using complete sentences was so difficult.

  “One of the men that seem to be fixtures in your room can give you a sponge with a little water on it to soothe your throat and mouth. Once you’ve woken up more we’ll see if your stomach is settled before letting you drink.” Ellie tried to blink but couldn’t manage to get her eyes open. “I think rest is the best thing here. I’ll leave a script for pain relief so she isn’t suffering, but like I told you this afternoon, time is the only thing that’s going to fix this completely.” With that, it sounded as though he turned around and walked away.

  Rubber soles squeaked on the floor at a brisk pace, indicating someone very busy walking into her room in comfortable shoes. Ellie didn’t know who it was, but she certainly approved of how they worked, especially when the nurse said, “I’m just putting this in your IV, honey, and you’ll feel it settling you down pretty quick.”

  It didn’t take long before the warmth that flowed into her hand moved to her head, and she lost the fight to stay awake.

  The next time she awoke, the room was eerily silent. She decided to try opening her eyes, even though she feared it would bring back the pain like the last time. Still, she knew people had been in here with her, and the doctor had given her the impression they were stubbornly refusing to leave until they knew if she was all right. Continuing to lie around in uncertainty didn’t resonate well with the idea that people were watching her sleep.

  It took a couple of tries before she could even manage a flutter. Fortunately, the room was only lit from the hall, so she was mostly in shadow and pleased that she w
as not only able to open her eyes, but keep them open. She moved her head and saw Phil sitting to her left, with his head resting on the wall and his industrial metal cane leaning on his right leg. She never liked that cane, even though he used it rarely. It had no personality, and only served to remind people that he was injured and needed the support. At least his usual ones provided style and gave people something to smile about. This one just made him look old.

  On the other side, she saw Phillips, who was leaning with his forehead on the edge of her mattress, as though he’d fallen forward and didn’t have the energy to hoist himself back up. Satisfied that her eyes and head were pulling through sufficiently, she decided to move a little before the doctor analyzed her in front of an anxious crowd.

  She looked down and could see the sheet moving when she tried to wiggle her toes. Having gained courage from that small success, she wanted to test her hand and tried picking it up. It didn’t respond at first, and she remembered the way her arms had felt stuck in mud when she fell to the ground. The thought of her arms not being back to normal caused Ellie to panic, so she pulled even harder.

  “Hey!” Phillips’s head jerked up at once, and then she realized the reason her arm wouldn’t move was because he’d been holding her hand. “You’re awake.”

  Normally, she would have congratulated him on having a grasp on the obvious, but he looked horrible. “You need some sleep.”

  “I’ll grab some later. You scared the shit out of us, Ellie.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed, not seeing the point in putting on a brave face now that it was all over.

  “You stayed in the shop talking to Joe for a while, and the team left after securing the perimeter. We had somebody following Luka, so we knew he wasn’t going to double back on you. Then you came out fast, and you stopped in the shadow, so I couldn’t see that you were talking to someone at first. Your wire was transmitting in the van, but it took them a few minutes to get back once they realized you were being confronted by someone other than the suspect. From across the street, when I saw you go to your knees, we jumped and ran, but you were spread out on the pavement before we could get across the road.”