by Dale Mayer
She stared at him, then looked at her arm, now throbbing a bit. “You’re right. I didn’t,” she said. “How long before it works?”
“Hopefully soon,” he said. “It shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.”
“Is it twenty minutes yet?”
He smiled. “You’re almost there.”
“Good,” she said, the shakes quaking through her system. In an almost drugged state of mind, she watched everything happening around her. The whole thing was so surreal anyway. She’d been enjoying a nice calm day, and then all of it had been blown out of the water. She’d been on the Olympic Peninsula, then picked up and tossed into the back of a vehicle. She didn’t remember anything after that, except the blow to her head.
She reached up and touched it and winced.
The doctor stopped repacking his bag and asked, “Wait. Do you have other injuries?”
She looked up at him. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I got hit across the face a couple times, and the original blow was to the back of my head.”
Immediately his fingers worked over her head, even as he shot Killian a hard look. “You guys have to tell me these things,” he said in exasperation.
“Don’t blame him,” she said quietly. “I haven’t had a chance to even say anything.”
“It’s the first thing he should have asked.”
“It might have been that way,” she said, “but we were still in danger, and, after that, I was being very deliberate about making sure he was who he said he was. I insisted on ID and then a phone call, before I would even talk to him or get down from the tree. By the time we got to the car and then headed to town, he was focused on getting me to you.”
“Well, that’s a good thing,” he said. “The bottom line though is, I’m not too happy with this head injury. Everything I’ve given you will be fine, but you stay where you are, no moving around.”
“Great,” she said. “If that’s something I can possibly do, that’d be perfect, but I don’t know if I can.”
“It’s not an option,” he said. “You do it.” He then turned to Killian. “If she has blackouts, gets dizzy, you know we have to consider a concussion.”
“The worst of the blows were a few days ago,” she said.
“No new blows?”
She thought about and then shrugged. “A couple but they weren’t anywhere near as hard.”
“Still,” the doctor said, “it all compounds.”
“Okay,” she said, “but I should be fine now.”
“You will be,” he said, “because I’ve asked Killian here to make sure you are.”
She groaned. “Haven’t they done enough for me?”
“Nope, now that they’ve saved your life, they’re responsible for it,” the doc said in a laughing tone.
“That’s the last thing I want,” she said. “Honestly I really just want to go home.”
“And we’ll arrange it,” Killian said, “but you’re not in any shape to be traveling right now, especially not to Florida—or wherever you consider home now.”
She sighed, as she looked down at her leg. “It is what it is.” At that, she watched as the doctor gave her a smile, then walked out of the hotel room with Killian, and the door closed behind the two of them. She looked over at Hatch. “I heard you brought food?”
“I brought back plenty and was just about to take everything out,” he said. “What would you like?”
“Some of everything,” she said. “And, if Killian doesn’t come back, I’ll eat his share too.”
Hatch burst out laughing.
She gave him a grin. “I shouldn’t be hungry, but they didn’t feed me much.”
“Did they feed you at all?”
“Some weird shakes,” she said. “They tasted awful.”
“I know. I’m supposed to take protein shakes, but, to me, they all taste awful.”
She nodded. “If you can get some decent things in it, like the sweeter ones, they aren’t bad. But, too often, they’re full of all that healthy stuff.”
“And I even like healthy stuff,” he said. “But, for me, I’d rather have a kale salad than have it all minced up and poured down my throat in a shake.”
“Well, it wasn’t green. It wasn’t anything like that,” she said. “It had a chalky, powdery taste. I figured it was probably laced with drugs, to keep me more compliant.”
“Were you difficult?”
She gave him a flat stare. “As bad as I could be, as often as I could pull it off. Hence all the blows to my head.”
“Got it,” he said. “Remember. Resistance should be doled out carefully. Then it’s actually effective.”
“Oh, so not when you’re in a blind panic?”
“Well, that too,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just hard not to.”
“And sometimes,” she said, “it’s sheer frustration, and you need the relief, so you can focus on another plan for the next time.”
“Wow, I get that too,” he murmured. “Good for you, for keeping some resistance going.”
“I guess it’s hard, isn’t it?”
“A lot of people struggle with it,” he murmured.
She looked at the bags on the table. “Did you unpack them all?”
“I did,” he said as he lifted the empty bags, so she saw.
“What are my choices?”
“It’s all Italian,” he said.
“Is there lasagna?” she asked hopefully.
He nodded and pulled off a tinfoil lid from one square-shaped package. “Can you eat this much?”
She nodded.
He brought it over on a plate, with a towel underneath it to protect her from the heat. He gave her a fork. “If you need me to cut it, let me know.”
“I hope not,” she said, shifting gingerly and only wincing slightly as she put herself into a more upright position to hold the food closer to her. He quickly scooped up pillows and placed them on her lap, so she could rest the lasagna on top. Then he tucked a towel around her as a bib.
She snorted at that. “These clothes are so history anyway. What I wouldn’t give for fresh clothes.”
At that, the door opened, and Killian walked back in. He smiled when he saw her sitting up with food. “Did I just hear you ask for clothing?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “If you guys can produce a meal like this right now when I’m starving, clothing should be easy for you.” He laughed and held up the bag he carried. She stared at it, back to him, and said, “What’s that?”
“The clothes I ordered for you.”
She stared at him in shock. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But are you sure you want to get fresh clothes on now, when you’ll make a mess of it right away?” And he pointed to her leg.
She winced and said, “That’s not fair.”
“No, but just hold on to the thought that pretty soon you’ll get into something clean.”
“Damn,” she said, staring down at her leg. “We’re supposed to put a dressing on it, aren’t we?”
“We will after we eat,” he said.
“Meaning?”
“Let’s let the painkillers have some time to kick in a little more.”
“Okay,” she said. “I can get behind that.”
“I’m sure you can,” he said, with a smile. Then he walked over, scooped up a container for himself, and said, “I didn’t know a pasta joint was around here.”
Between bites, she said, “It’s really good too.”
“Or you’re just really hungry,” he teased.
“I was just telling Hatch that they didn’t give me very much in the way of sustenance,” she said.
“Okay,” Killian began. “This is as good a time as ever. Tell us exactly what happened, from the beginning.”
She shrugged and said, “I left my husband’s home in Texas and drove as far away from him as I could, crossing the Canadian border. I was at the Olympic Peninsula, just walking down the street. I turned the corner a
nd was headed down a side street, looking for a small bookstore. Two men got out of a vehicle and asked me for directions. I told them that I didn’t really know where I was myself, so I wouldn’t be any help. Then I was hurled to the side of a vehicle, and suddenly I was inside it. They hopped in, closed the door, and, next thing I knew, I blacked out. I think they put something over my head and knocked me out. I’m not sure. It just all happened so fast that I really don’t know exactly.”
“And that’s fine,” Killian said in a soothing voice. “When did you wake up again?”
“I woke up in a van a while later. I’d been gagged, tied up, my head covered. I think they thought it would act as a blindfold as well, but I saw through it a little bit. Enough to know there were two men, and I heard a conversation that I thought involved Max—my husband, we’re separated—so, in a way, that made an ugly kind of sense.”
“So the little bit that we’ve heard about Max,” Hatch said, “is that your soon-to-be ex is a nasty piece of work, and, when you decided to leave the marriage, you took something of his along with you?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Anyway I tried to escape from my kidnappers at that point in time, but I couldn’t really see a whole lot. While they were talking, I got the rear door kicked open with my feet on a lever and managed to hop out. One of the ties came loose on my feet, and I started to run. I heard them coming up behind me and knew I wouldn’t get far, but I was hoping that someone would see me. With my hands still tied and that damn hood on, not being able to see that well, I was quickly picked up, hauled back to the van, and knocked out again.
“I don’t know what happened after that. But, when I woke up, my head was killing me. I was alone with one of the men, and he told me that it was my fault and that I would get more of a beating each time I tried to escape again.”
Hatch shook his head, muttering.
Killian said, “Carry on. This is hard for me to hear, so I know it must be worse for you to tell. But we need to know all that you can share.”
She shrugged. “I don’t even know how long I was with them. I’m sure they drugged me. I would wake up, forced to drink this weird shake, and I’d sleep again. Then I’d wake up and get another one and sleep. At one point, I upchucked after one of the drinks, and I didn’t end up falling back asleep again. I felt the vehicle moving and realized I was in the back seat of a big transport rig. We were stopped in a line for a long time. Then we drove over some metal-sounding grates before parking. The two men talked in low tones, but one turned to check on me, saying, She’s still out. Let’s lock her in and go stretch our legs. They got out, slammed the doors, and walked away.
“I finally got my hands around my feet and in front of me again. I reached for the latch with my bound hands. After a few minutes, I managed to get it open, and I slipped out the side of the van but fell to the ground. I pushed the bag off my eyes and pulled down the gag, then I started working on the ropes. I hadn’t been tied up too securely because I was always drugged, and, as soon as I managed to untie my hands and feet, I quickly closed the door to the rig, and I slipped through the vehicles. I was on a ferry.
“What I didn’t realize at the time was that somebody had seen it all and had essentially watched me save myself,” she said bitterly. “As I worked my way through the vehicles, he stepped up and asked me if I was okay. I was taken in by his kind demeanor. I didn’t even really get a look at him, and then, next thing I knew, he’d clipped me hard on the side of the head, and I was out. When I woke up, I was bound again.”
“Wow,” Hatch said. “I wonder if that was just a fluke or if he’d followed you.”
“I don’t know,” she said, “but it’s shitty either way. He said he saw me escaping and grabbed me himself.”
“We also have to consider,” Killian added, “that he might have been the other partner in the initial kidnapping. A scenario where he knew about you and decided to set up a chance for him to make more money for himself.”
She stared at him. “Wow, I didn’t even think of that,” she said. “Maybe?”
“Did his voice sound familiar at all?”
“I honestly don’t remember,” she said. “At the beginning, the voices of the first kidnappers were hard to hear because they were muffled by the bag or whatever was over my head. And this second guy had some sort of band around my eyes, tight on my head. It was wrapped around my ears too, so it was hard to hear anything clearly. So, for all I know, it could have been one of the first two guys. I have no idea. There wasn’t enough difference in what I heard of their voices to know for certain. The second kidnapper did say he’d sold me twice.” And she explained how one buyer wanted proof of life and the other wanted him to take her life.
Killian nodded as he walked over and sat down beside her. “How are you feeling now?”
She looked at the bowl of lasagna that she’d polished off two-thirds of. “I really wanted all of this,” she said, “but I don’t think I can finish it.”
“Then don’t,” he murmured. “Just take it a little bit easy on your stomach.”
“Right,” she said, as she handed it to him. “Can I just sleep here then?”
“You can, but there’s a bed for you here.”
She looked over at him. “But that means moving.”
“Your bladder will have to be emptied at some point anyway,” he said.
She glared at him. “Now why would you even remind me of that?” she said. “That’ll just hurt.”
“It might,” he said, with a big grin. “But you’re fit and strong, and you’ve done incredibly courageous things. So don’t worry about it. You’ll make it through.”
“Says you,” she said, with a grumbling tone. “I don’t feel like I’ve been courageous at all.”
“Did you fight your kidnappers every time?”
“As often as I could. I got smacked more times than I care to remember,” she said slowly, rotating her jaw. “After a while, your face just starts feeling like hamburger.”
“Well, I’d say it looks like it too, but that might freak you out,” he murmured.
She glared at him.
He grinned. “It’s a little swollen, but it’s not too bad.”
She gently touched her face and then nodded. “It feels puffy.”
“It is.”
Killian watched as Stacey sat here, as long as she could. And then he stood, held out his hand, and said, “Let me give you a hand up.” Using his arm, she pulled herself upright, and he noted the color immediately faded from her skin. “I’ll help you walk to the bathroom.”
“I walked just fine before,” she protested. “Why is it so hard now?”
“Well, for one, now you mentally know you’re injured,” he murmured. “And, for two, you’ve got stitches in your leg. So, although it’s frozen with painkillers, it’s swollen and injured. Your body knows that it has a chance to heal and doesn’t want you on it, so it’ll scream to make you get off that leg. For three, you don’t have the adrenaline rush of trying to escape pumping you up.”
“Great,” she said. “So now even my body is trying to hold me captive.”
“But this time, it’s for your own good,” he said. At the bathroom door, he looked at her and said, “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be okay,” she said and shut the door firmly in his face.
He chuckled.
Hatch looked at him and said, “Better watch it.”
“Why?”
“Sparks.”
“No, that’s everybody else, not me,” he said, with a shrug. “I’ve never been the one who would get picked in a basketball game and certainly not have the popular girl.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “Bu you’ve got to admit, she’s an interesting character.”
“Very,” he said. “Cute too.”
From the other side of the bathroom door, she yelled, “I’m right here, you know. I might be injured, but I’m not deaf.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “It’s not li
ke I’ll lie about it. You are cute.”
She snorted. “Like hell. I’m cranky. I’m miserable. I look like shit, and I don’t like being lied to.”
“I’m not lying,” he said.
The door opened suddenly, and she glared at him. “No way anybody can look at this face right now and say I’m cute.”
He leaned forward and said, “You’re cute.”
She glared at him and pugnaciously stuck her chin out and said, “Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
At that, Hatch burst out laughing. “Oh, man,” he said, “I wish I had this on tape.”
On cue, both of them turned to glare at him as one.
At that, Killian asked, “Why? So you could send it to the rest of our team?”
“I should,” he said. “Or maybe just to her father.”
“Don’t do that,” she said. “He’s been bugging me to get into a permanent relationship ever since I filed for divorce.”
“Well, you probably figured that wouldn’t be a good idea, considering how you feel about your husband.”
“But my father loved my husband,” she said. “That’s why I had to bring him proof of what an asshat Max really is.”
Still smirking, Hatch turned and buried his face in his dinner.
Killian looked back at her and said, “Honestly, nothing in that bruising and puffiness hides your beauty.”
She shook her head and said, “You’re being ridiculous.” But her voice sounded more pleased than anything.
He smiled and asked, “Are you done in here? Can I help you back to your couch?”
“Since I’m up and all, I was hoping that maybe I could go to a bed?”
“Absolutely you can,” he said. “Pajamas are in that bag, if you want.”
She looked at him and said, “How about a nightie instead?”
“Why don’t we take a look,” he said. “And then we can figure out what else you might still need.”
“I don’t need anything,” she said. “I’m just really tired, and, with my leg injury, I don’t want to put on pants.”
“Wait here.” He brought the bag to her, and together they sorted through three sets of clothes, an oversize T-shirt, and weird shorts. He held them up and shrugged and said, “I honestly don’t know about these.”
