Fatal Serum

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Fatal Serum Page 13

by Sam Black


  I walked back to the bed where Jennifer, half uncovered, lay on her back, with her arms by her side. I headed toward the bed and gently pulled the covers off, exposing the rest of her luscious body. I leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead, her left cheek, her breasts, and her stomach. Within minutes, she lost control and so had I, until an hour had passed.

  Exhausted, we wrapped our arms around each other. She fell asleep quickly, while I lay awake, still making sure she did not leave, nor will never, ever leave, my side. Never again.

  Chapter 41

  THIRD DAY IN NEW ZEALAND

  It was our third morning waking up in Auckland, New Zealand. We had no plans; we were playing it by ear. We made love three and four times each day, eating in the room with no clothes on. We were reliving the days ten years ago when we had first met in Taupo. I still had memories of my nightmare rattling around inside my head. I hadn’t read a paper or even looked at the TV, except when we rented a movie to watch in our room. I had not spoken to Virginia since we had left.

  We dressed, figuring we ought to get some fresh air. We headed downtown toward the marina. We walked around for more than an hour before settling on the Belini Bar, which faced the marina. I drank a Dewar’s on the rocks and Jennifer had a fancy cream drink with three different white liquors in it. After several hours and three drinks apiece, we were feeling good and thought it best to get a bite to eat. We chose the White Restaurant not too far from the Belini Bar. We were somewhat tipsy from the drinks we had had at Belini’s.

  Jennifer headed to the restroom to freshen up, as I ordered a bottle of New Zealand wine. I ordered a 2006 Palliser Estate Martin Sauvignon Blanc, one of the finest wines of New Zealand. Twenty minutes had gone by since Jennifer had left for the powder room. I had already consumed half of my glass. I was feeling no pain, with millions in the bank, a multi-million dollar enterprise which had endless earnings, and a beautiful wife I will cherish for the rest of my life. “Where is she? It has been almost a half hour now?” After five more minutes, I got up and headed toward the powder room. I asked a young, attractive, Kiwi girl to go in the powder room and check if my wife was okay. She came back out and informed me she wasn’t in there. I blurted out, with a half- paralyzed tongue, “She has to be in there.” Memories of my nightmare plowed furrows through my head.

  “I’m afraid not, sir. There is no one in the powder room. I even looked in all the stalls.” She smiled and walked away, leaving me in a non-sober state. Thoughts of the tunnel, the gas in the tunnel, filled my head.

  I headed back to our table, bumping into chairs along the way. Alcohol was entering my blood stream too fast and my wife was missing. “I’m not dreaming this. It is real, isn’t it?” I sat down, trying to gather my thoughts and trying to keep the marbles from rattling around inside my head. I took another large swallow of wine and managed to stand and walk outside to get a bit of fresh air. The couple of minutes of fresh air I took in rejuvenated my brain enough to gather my senses. I went back inside and asked for the maitre d, Mr. Killion, a balding, middle-aged man. “Mr. Killion, my wife is missing from your restaurant. She went to the powder room 45 minutes ago and she isn’t in the powder room and she isn’t in your restaurant. Can you call the police?”

  “Mr. Abbott, I will notify the police, immediately. Please, wait over there and they will be here very shortly.” He pointed toward an ornate piece of furniture Jennifer and I had sat in before being seated at our table.

  Several long minutes later, two unarmed, uniformed police came through the front door. New Zealand’s police officers don’t pack a firearm. They do, however, pack a friendly smile and a warm, sincere, understanding mannerism. I explained my dilemma to the two officers, Ruskin and Cambridge. They informed me that over 8000 missing person claims are filed each year in New Zealand, with over 95 % of them located within a few days. “Mr. Abbott, do you happen to have a picture of Mrs. Abbott on you?” asked Officer Ruskin, the taller of the two officers.

  I reached for my wallet and tried quickly to fetch the picture of Jennifer. I handed it to Officer Cambridge. “A very attractive lady, Mr. Abbott. We should be able to locate her very quickly. Our officers are well trained and we have the latest scientific equipment to handle these types of cases.” He smiled at the picture, as if he liked her in a sensual way. “What is her first name, Mr. Abbott?”

  “We are staying at the Langham Hotel,” I said, with perspiration running down the small of my back. “That picture is about a year old. Her first name is Jennifer, spelled J-E-N-N-I-F-E-R.” I managed to spit out.

  “Mr. Abbott, can you tell us what your wife is wearing, color of her hair and anything else we might need to know about her?” He had his paper and pen ready to take notes.

  “Yes, she is wearing a pair of Capri pants. Ah, let’s see. Yes, they are plaid, various colors. I would say blue, green, and maybe cream or beige and they had a belt, a green belt. She had on a light blue top with sleeves, short sleeves, and a pair of earrings; they were small gold earrings, I believe, yes, gold,” I said, with my eyes dancing from Cambridge to Ruskin.

  “What about a watch, shoes, her hair, and any tattoos?” asked Officer Cambridge.

  “Her shoes were slip-ons, toeless. I can’t remember the color of them, maybe a light green. I’m not sure,” I said, with sweat still running down my back.

  “Tattoos, Mr. Abbott?” Cambridge asked, staring into my wet, bloodshot eyes.

  “No, no tattoos. She didn’t like them. In fact, she thought they were hideous, especially on women.”

  “Mr. Abbott, what about a watch, any rings?” Ruskin asked, with Cambridge waiting to take the information down.

  “Yes, she had on an inexpensive watch. I believe it was a Swiss manufacturer. It had been her grandmother’s, just a plain watch, with no diamonds or anything.” I can’t believe this is happening as I peer around, trying to see if Jennifer is anywhere. My nightmare is now rambling through my head like it was all real. Am I going crazy?

  “Any rings on Mrs. Abbott’s fingers?” asked Officer Ruskin.

  “Oh, yes. She has a large, three-carat, diamond ring, plus a wedding band.”

  “Is the ring silver or gold?” Cambridge asked.

  “Silver, I think. Yeah, silver.” My head is real foggy.

  “What about her hair, Mr. Abbott?” Ruskin asked, as he pulled on his ear.

  I looked at both officers and tried to think, as the booze ran rapidly through my veins. “Her hair is short. It is a dark color, her natural color, almost black. She just got her hair cut before we left Georgia. It comes down to about here.” I put my hand on my neck, showing the two officers.

  “Any scars on Mrs. Abbott?” Cambridge asked, with his pen ready to record my response.

  “No scars. Wait, she does have a scar on her left knee, where she had surgery from a skiing accident many years ago.” The deli where we had met ten years ago popped into my head. “The scar is faint. The surgeon did a great job.”

  “Any birthmarks?” Ruskin asked, glancing at a lady walking across the floor, who resembled Jennifer.

  I quickly saw who Ruskin was looking at and said, “Jennifer.” The lady never turned around, just kept walking. She wore Capri pants, slip-on shoes and had short, black hair. I moved quickly toward the lady and hollered her name again. “JENNIFER” My mouth felt like cement dust. She never even glanced at me. I moved back toward the officers.

  “Mr. Abbott, about any birthmarks on Mrs. Abbott,” Cambridge asked.

  “What, what did you ask?” I felt sick inside. The scotch I had drunk earlier floated to my throat.

  “Birthmarks, any birthmarks on Mrs. Abbott?” Cambridge repeated.

  “No! No, she doesn’t have any birthmarks.” I felt like throwing up.

  “Mr. Abbott, do you want to sit down? You don’t look too good,” Officer Ruskin said, taking my arm and moving me toward a chair.

  “No, I’m okay! I just want this nightmare to end.”

 
; Immediately, a puzzled look came over both Officers. Cambridge asked, after I sat down, “You said a nightmare. Are you telling us about a nightmare, or is your wife actually missing?”

  I looked at them both with puzzlement filtering out of my eyes. I’m going crazy. No, I can’t be. Jo stood in front of me. Everything went black.

  Chapter 42

  TWO HOURS LATER

  I opened my eyes, blinking several times, head splitting and my mouth as dry as desert sand. I glanced around the room and realized immediately: I’m in a hospital or some sort of medical facility. There is a needle taped into each arm and I am as naked as a plucked chicken. The bed has two side rails from my head to my cold feet. “Why are my feet cold?” It appeared to be a private room. I looked for some sort of button to push for a nurse or anyone to come in and tell me what was going on. It smelled like a hospital. “What happened? Who brought me here? Shit, I’m strapped in this damn bed.” I panicked. I realized I had a tube up my nose and wires leading from my strapped body to a machine with blips dancing across a screen. “My heart rate is being monitored. I have a cuff on my right arm leading to another monitor giving my blood pressure reading, which I can’t see. I know it is high. Am I having a heart attack, or did I have a heart attack?” I screamed, “JENNIFER” I waited for a few seconds. I heard nothing. “JENNIFER” I waited a few more seconds. Nothing registered in my ears, not even a tick or a tock. “NURSE, COME HERE,” I hollered, breathing faster now.

  I laid there for several minutes, with beads of sweat on my forehead, before a nurse, dressed all in white, came into the room. “Mr. Abbott, you’re awake,” she said, smiling and walking quickly toward my bed. Her flawless face glowed and her eyes looked warm.

  No shit, I thought, before my mouth opened with, “Where am I? Where is my wife, my wife, Jennifer?”

  “You are at Mercy Hospital. The police said you had lost your wife and then you passed out. They had the emergency people bring you here a few hours ago. We are doing some tests. The doctor will be in to see you momentarily.”

  “What about my wife? Have the police found my wife?” The expression on her face told me the answer to my question. My mouth opened, waiting for her to speak.

  “The police are here in the lobby. I’ll call them.” She left the room, briskly.

  “Could I have some water?” I screamed through parched lips.

  A nurse’s aid brought the water before the police arrived. I gulped it down, quickly, through a bent straw and asked for more. The glass was refilled from a pitcher and handed to me. Again, I slurped it down. The nurse’s aide then did an about face and left the room, not saying one word.

  Officers Ruskin and Cambridge entered my room shortly after the nurse’s aide left. “How are you, Mr. Abbott?” Ruskin asked, with a grin which vanished with one step toward my bed. Cambridge, right behind Ruskin, said, “I hope you are feeling better Mr. Abbott.” His smile also disappeared immediately after he spoke.

  No good news, I thought. “Where is my wife?”

  Seconds passed before Cambridge spoke. “Ah, Mr. Abbott, your wife is still missing, unfortunately. However, we have the entire New Zealand police force and security people on the look out for Mrs. Abbott. We have notified the Australian authorities also, just in case.”

  Ruskin chimed in seconds later with, “We have notified every airport, bus station and other modes of public transportation to be on the look out for her. We will find her, Mr. Abbott. Hopefully, we will have something in a few hours”

  “What am I doing in this hospital? I have to get out of here so I can locate Jennifer.”

  “You passed out at the restaurant and we summoned an ambulance to bring you here,” Cambridge replied.

  “Why did I pass out?”

  “You had a bit too much to drink and maybe not enough food. The hotel said you checked in three days ago and never left the room—until today. Is that correct Mr. Abbott?” Ruskin asked, with no doubt in his eyes.

  “Yes, it’s true, but we did order room service a few times.”

  “That is true, but you only ordered food four times and the food wasn’t nearly enough for two people to function on, unless they slept the entire time. Did you and Mrs. Abbott sleep most of the time you were in the room?”

  “Ah no, we—What kind of question is that officer?”

  “We believe you have had very little food and consumed lots of alcohol in the past three days and, combined with the time change, this caused you to pass out at the restaurant.” Ruskin then glanced at Cambridge, holding his smile briefly.

  “The doctor will do an evaluation on you in a few minutes. Then, we can move on from there,” Cambridge said, with a quick smile at the end.

  Just then, Dr. McMillen walked into the room. “Good afternoon, Mr. Abbott. I see you are awake.” He took his stethoscope from around his neck and plugged it in his ears, running the other end, a cold piece, over my bare chest. After a few coughs and the cold piece moving around my chest, the doctor said, “Your vital signs seem normal; we put you on an IV to get some nourishment in your body. Your tank was running on empty. You’ll be okay. I hope the police locate your wife. I’ll see the nurses. We should get you out of here within a few hours.” He released my arm restraints and let the rails down on my bed, making me a free man once again.

  “Why can’t I leave now?” I demanded.

  “You need some more fuel in your tank before we can let you go. This IV gives you more nourishment than a couple of steaks and works much faster. I suggest you go and eat a good meal and then get some sleep,” Doctor McMillen advised, as he left the room.

  “Mr. Abbott, have you and your wife had any marital problems? Did you two have an argument since you’ve been at the Langham Hotel?”

  “No.” My eyebrows went to the top of my head, instantly. “We have never had an argument in the ten years we’ve been married.” Adoption of a baby popped into my head, but I never mentioned it.

  “Was Mrs. Abbott upset with anything before she left for the powder room?” Ruskin asked.

  “No, we were having a great time. We met ten years ago in Taupo, New Zealand.” Memories of me and Jennifer running naked around the hotel room jumped into my head.

  Officer Cambridge’s cell phone rang. He answered, “This is Cambridge.” After a minute or so, he smiled broadly, and said, “Thanks, I will tell him.” He returned the cell phone to his pocket. “We have located your wife and she is okay. She became disoriented and was located wandering around the marina.” I became ecstatic. “She, too, had passed out at a small park by the marina. I believe both of you have had too much alcohol and not enough sleep or food.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “The patrolman who found her is bringing her here, shortly,” Officer Cambridge said, smiling. Officer Ruskin reached over the rail of my bed, shook my hand and wished me the best of luck. They both turned and left the room, leaving me happy and wanting my wife back in my arms.

  “I want some food,” I blurted out, still not seeing any button to push for a nurse.

  Within seconds, a nurse’s aide, a cute friendly, young lady, popped into my room. “What would you like to eat?”

  “I don’t care, maybe a steak, baked potato and a small salad.”

  “We don’t have any steak here at the hospital, but we can get you some fresh fruit: kiwi, grapes, oranges, mango, and pineapple. You should eat fresh fruit now that you are being fed through the IV.”

  “Okay, fruit it is.”

  Minutes after I received my fruit plate, Jennifer came running into my room. “Jennifer!” I screamed.

  Chapter 43

  BACK AT THE LANGHAM HOTEL

  They discharged me two hours after Jennifer had arrived. We took a cab back to the Langham Hotel. We laughed and hugged one another; yet, fear ran through our veins about what could have happened. Jennifer ordered room service: Two medium rare T-Bone steaks with two baked potatoes, garden salad and assorted vegetables. No liquor. We ate s
lowly, savoring every bite.

  After setting the empty dishes outside the door on the floor, we both stripped down and entered the shower together. For the past ten years, we have not been able to keep our hands off each other, whether naked or dressed. We were both exhausted, but the sexual energy riveted throughout our bodies. “I want you, Sam,” Jennifer purred in my ear.

  I want you, my love.” We rinsed the soap from our wet bodies. I dried Jennifer with a large, soft bath towel and she did the same for me. We collapsed onto the bed, with the sun shining behind the drapes on the window. We were asleep within minutes and slept until awakened by loud pounding on the door.

  Chapter 44

  WHERE AM I?

  Pitch black. I didn’t know if I was blind or if it had really turned dark. My body stiffened immediately, while my eyes tried to focus on some sort of resemblance. I was on some sort of hard bed. “Jennifer?” I whispered. Lying on my right side, I slowly rolled over on my back, feeling around me for Jennifer. My body became cold, but I started to sweat; my head pounded, pounding like when I was in the tunnel. My stomach is on fire. I have to puke. Where will I puke? Too late! I upchucked for several seconds. It relieved the pounding in my head. “The tunnel, the blasted tunnel, I’m being gassed again. No! Jennifer!” I screamed. I waited for a sound, any sound, but nothing, not even the sound of my rapid breathing. Am I deaf and blind? I can still touch, but not sure if I can smell since I can’t smell anything—not even my own puke.

  Several minutes passed before I crawled out of the bed someone had put me in. Or did THEY put me here? Who are THEY? My head began to throb again. I sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt my clothes. It seemed like I was dressed in a jump suit, with snaps running up the front. I had on a pair of socks, but no shoes. What the hell is wrong with me and where am I? “JENNIFER” I shouted, waiting for some sort of response. Nothing! I didn’t hear my voice. “I must be deaf. Oh, My GOD!”

 

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