Blind Faith

by Sharon Sala

  As soon as he pulled up into the parking garage attached to his apartment building, he returned the text with well-wishes for all of them.

  For Charlie, that case was over and done. He grabbed his bag and got out, then entered the building and headed for his apartment.

  The modern amenities of his home were a stark contrast to the old rock cabin he’d been staying in, and it felt good to be back in familiar territory. Maybe getting away hadn’t been a bad idea after all. He might be missing that wood-burning fireplace a little, but his gas fireplace took a chill off a room just as well, and with less fuss and mess.

  As soon as he flipped the On switch and got instant flames, he took his bag to the bedroom. As always, the first thing that came off when he got home were his shoes. After that, he changed into sweats and went to the kitchen in his sock feet to check out the contents of his fridge. Unwilling to settle for half a stick of butter and three bottles of beer for dinner, he picked up his phone and ordered in.

  Today he’d make a shopping list.

  Tomorrow he’d fill it.

  But for now, he was having pizza.

  * * *

  Merlin had a doctor’s appointment and was dressed and ready to leave. But he was starting to realize he wasn’t strong enough to drive himself there. It was the first time this had happened, and it made him a little sad. As much as he thought he had faced his truth, this was unsettling.

  He thought about asking Wyrick, but this was short notice. And the longer he sat, the worse he felt. Even if someone else took him, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to get through the appointment and home without a wheelchair. So, he made an executive decision on his behalf, called the doctor’s office and told them what was happening. Within minutes, he was on the phone with the doctor’s nurse.

  “Mr. Merlin, Dr. Willis will need to examine you to see what we need to do next.”

  “Then I’ll need an ambulance to get me there. I will not spend my last days in hospital. I have private twenty-four-hour nursing already in place when the need arises, and I am signed up for hospice care when the time comes, too. So if this is the time, then I need to let them know.”

  “Let me talk to Dr. Willis about this. Are you okay to be alone right now? If you think you’re not, then call an ambulance and get yourself to ER.”

  “I think I’ll call the ambulance,” Merlin said. “One way or another, I need to know if this is me on the downhill slide.”

  “I’m sorry this is happening,” she said. “I’ll let Dr. Willis know. He’ll be in contact with ER to get your test results.”

  “Thank you,” Merlin said. Then as soon as he hung up, he called 911 and asked for an ambulance to be dispatched to his address, then called Wyrick, knowing she’d be freaking out when the ambulance arrived if he didn’t let her know.

  * * *

  Wyrick was in cleaning mode. She’d already dusted and vacuumed, and had just finished mopping the kitchen and bathroom when her cell phone rang. She hung the mop up to dry and then wiped her hands on her jeans before answering.

  “Good morning, Merlin.”

  “Good morning, Wyrick. I wanted to give you a heads-up that I’ve called an ambulance, so don’t freak out when you see it coming.”

  Her heart sank. “What’s wrong?”

  “Today is a bad day, and I have a doctor’s appointment. So I’m going in to ER instead of his office. I’ll be back. I’m just not up to driving myself.”

  Wyrick was sad. She’d known it would happen, but she hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

  “I can take you,” she said.

  “I know, dear. But I’m pretty weak today, and I don’t think I’d be able to walk anywhere, and neither one of us has a wheelchair.”

  Wyrick took a slow, shaky breath. “Well, dammit.”

  He laughed. “That’s pretty much what I thought. Don’t worry. Please. I need you not to fight the inevitable, because I’m not.”

  She was blinking back tears now. “Yes, yes, I get it. I promise. Is it time to call your nursing service?”

  “Yes, I think so. I can call them from ER if I deem it necessary.”

  “Okay, but I’m coming up anyway. Where are you?”

  “I’m in the den,” Merlin said.

  “I’ll be right there,” she said.

  “And I thank you for the help.”

  She dropped the phone in her pocket, put on some shoes and headed up the stairs on the run. Finding him in the den was easy. But looking at him without registering the shock she felt? Not so much.

  “It’s cold out and that jacket isn’t enough. Where would I find a heavier coat?”

  “Is it really? I have a coat in the front hall closet. It’s camel-colored.”

  She turned and left the den, found the coat and came back just as fast.

  Merlin had taken his jacket off, and once again, Wyrick was left having to hide her reaction to how thin he’d become. She helped him on with the coat and then sat down beside him.

  “I have the number to the private nursing people, don’t I?”

  He chuckled. “It’s probably somewhere in all that crap Rodney gave you.”

  “I’ll find it. As soon as you leave, I’m calling them. I’ll have someone here before the end of the day,” she said.

  “It may take them a little longer than that to set up a schedule, so don’t expect—”

  “If they can’t make it happen, I’ll find interim help until they can. I don’t want to go to bed tonight worrying if you’re going to face-plant while I’m asleep.”

  He chuckled. “Face-plant. Jade, my dear, your bedside manner is missing a little delicacy.”

  “There isn’t a delicate bone in my body and you know it,” Wyrick muttered. “And don’t expect me to apologize for it, either.”

  Merlin laughed out loud. “God, you are good for what ails me,” he said. “While you’re organizing my world today, don’t forget to feed yourself.”

  She frowned. “Are you insinuating that I’m skinny?”

  “I don’t insinuate. I state facts.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

  “You’ve been worrying...about me...and about your boss. And there’s that bit about someone trying to kill you, too. I hope you’re dealing with that.”

  “Yes, Merlin, I’m dealing with that.”

  “Just watch your back. You are your own miracle. You deserve to be happy.”

  “I refuse to cry, so don’t try being nice to me,” Wyrick said.

  Merlin laughed again.

  “I hear the ambulance,” Wyrick said. “Stay where you are. I’ll bring them back to you.”

  “Thank you,” he said, then leaned back and closed his eyes against the wave of nausea sweeping through him.

  Wyrick hurried through the house, and was at the front door when the EMTs came up the steps.

  “In here,” she said, and swung the door inward.

  They entered, pushing a gurney, and followed her through the grand hall to the den.

  It was obvious how weak Merlin was when they helped him to his feet, and then they covered him over and strapped him on before taking him out.

  Wyrick watched until he was safely inside and the ambulance was gone. Then she locked the house up and went back downstairs to look for info on the nursing situation. When she found what she needed, she made two calls. One to hospice, and one to his private nursing company.

  “Can you get someone here by this evening?” Wyrick asked.

  “Yes. Mr. Merlin notified us far enough in advance that we’ve had a tentative schedule in place. I’ll have to juggle a couple of nurses to get one there this soon, but after we get the schedule ironed out, he will have regulars.”

  “And they understand that I will be overseeing his care?” Wyrick said.

  �
��Yes, ma’am. We have all of his instructions and wishes, and they’re very clear. All you’ll have to do is introduce yourself and give them your contact information. You won’t be responsible for any of his medical care. Our nurses will follow his doctor’s directives.”

  “But I will be in and out, to satisfy myself that his care is top-notch and he is comfortable. I promised him I would do that, so that understanding is paramount,” Wyrick said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Of course. Don’t worry. Just let us know if they’re bringing him back to his home or if they hospitalized him temporarily.”

  “I will,” Wyrick said, and disconnected.

  She’d done all she knew to do for him, but she was still a little anxious. The only other person she felt responsible for was Charlie. In her mind, keeping him safe and in one piece was part of her job. Now there was Merlin, needing care on a level she could not provide. But she would be there to make sure the people who did know how to care for him did it right.

  About four hours later, Wyrick was in the main house when the ambulance brought Merlin back. She had a wheelchair waiting. He was weak and nauseated from the pain meds they’d given him, and as soon as they got him situated, they were gone.

  “Your nurse is on the way,” Wyrick said.

  “Thank you,” Merlin said. “I had an infusion while I was there and I’m feeling pretty shaky.”

  “When I was doing chemo, sometimes meds on an empty stomach made me sick. Have you eaten anything today?” Wyrick asked.

  “A cup of coffee this morning. I was too shaky for making food.”

  “How about a little soup?” Wyrick asked.

  “I don’t want you cooking for me,” Merlin said.

  “I don’t cook for anyone, but for you, I’ll open a can of soup.”

  Merlin chuckled. “You are good for me. Open the soup.”

  “Because I like you, I will also heat it,” Wyrick said, and wheeled him into the kitchen with her.

  She’d already looked through his pantry while he was gone, and knew the soups were there, so she chose noodle soup, put it in a bowl and heated it in the microwave, then rolled him to the kitchen table.

  But when she put the soup in front of him, his hands were shaking too much to get the soup into his mouth.

  “May I?” she asked, and took the spoon out of his hands and fed him.

  By then, he was too weak to argue and let her spoon little bites into his mouth until he was full, then cried when she wiped a drip of soup from his chin.

  “Dammit, I’m sorry. I hate being helpless,” he said.

  “Don’t ever apologize to me again,” Wyrick snapped. “You didn’t ask for this. Nobody asks for this shit. I am doing this because I know exactly how you’re feeling, and because someone once did this for me.”

  Merlin sighed. “Then thank you. Can I ask you something?”

  “Ask away.”

  “How long did you do chemo before you were cured?”

  Wyrick took a deep breath and then turned and faced him.

  “They didn’t cure me. They told Cyrus Parks they’d done all they could for me. The fiancé I had said he didn’t want to watch me die and dumped me, and Parks considered me a failure because of some defect they had not detected in my DNA, and let me go.”

  The shock on Merlin’s face was telling.

  “Dear God. Monsters,” he muttered. Then it hit him. “But wait! Then how are you still here?”

  “I healed myself. I think it was rage at what they’d done that triggered something within me. I don’t know the full range of my capabilities. All I know is every so often, something new turns on inside of me and I just know stuff. Or I can do things I couldn’t do before. I guess I’m the ultimate time-release capsule in human form. Charlie knows some of this, and now so do you.”

  Merlin sighed. “Well, I’m dying, so your secret is safe with me.”

  Wyrick threw a dish towel at him, which made him laugh.

  “That soup perked you right up, didn’t it?” she said. “Just for that, you’re going to your room.”

  Suddenly serious, he nodded. “I could do with a nap.”

  Wyrick pushed him through the house and down the main hall to his room, made sure he got himself safely onto the bed, and then pulled off his shoes and covered him with a blanket.

  “Where’s your phone?” she asked.

  “Here,” he said, and pulled it out of a pocket.

  She put it beside his bed. “Sleep well. Your nurse should be here soon.”

  As soon as he closed his eyes, she left.

  * * *

  An hour later, his nurse arrived with an overnight bag. Her name was Ora Jones, a sweet fortysomething woman with a soft voice, and the bluest eyes Wyrick had ever seen. She brought a little cold air and so much confidence into the house that Wyrick finally relaxed.

  “You must be Wyrick,” Ora said. “Just call me Ora. If you’ll show me where Mr. Merlin’s room is, and leave me your contact info, then I can officially relieve you of worries.”

  “All of my contact info is on a pad in the kitchen, but my apartment is just downstairs, so if you need help quickly, just call or text, and I’ll come running.”

  “Thank you,” Ora said.

  “Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to Merlin,” Wyrick said, and then took her through the house, pointing out features and rooms as she went, until they were in another wing.

  “This house is huge,” Ora said.

  Wyrick nodded, then pointed. “This is Merlin’s room.” She pushed the door inward without knocking. He was still in bed, but he was reading.

  “Merlin, your nurse is here.”

  He smiled, then put down his book as they approached.

  “Ora, this is Merlin. Merlin...this is Ora. I’ll be downstairs if anyone needs me.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Ora said.

  Wyrick glanced at Merlin. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

  “Next time you get a chance, I have a taste for some of my tomatoes.”

  “I’ll get you some,” Wyrick said.

  “Thank you, darling,” Merlin said. “Now go make your magic happen and find another lost soul.”

  Wyrick took a deep breath and left the room, then went out the back door of the kitchen with a small bowl and straight to the greenhouse.

  The air was cold, so she ran all the way, welcoming the warmth and the earthy scents of all things growing as she walked into the greenhouse and shut the door. She paused a moment to orient herself again, then headed for the tomato plants at the back, loaded with tiny green and red tomatoes.

  She picked the bowl full, checked the watering system to make sure the timer was on, then ran back to the house and left the tomatoes on the cabinet.

  Once she was back in her apartment, she pulled up the tracking app she had on Charlie’s phone. When she realized he was back in Dallas, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. For the moment, the two men in her life were in their homes, and that was as safe as she could keep them.

  Next thing on her agenda was tying a tighter knot in Cyrus’s tail, so she headed to her computer. She had everything ready to go, including a press release. It would be acknowledging Cyrus Parks, the director of Universal Theorem, making a personal donation of forty million dollars toward the rebuilding of the Grand Bahama and the Abaco chain after the devastation of Hurricane Dorian.

  She’d already hacked into Cyrus’s personal computer system so that everything she was about to do would appear to have come from his IP address. Then she wired the money she’d moved from his personal accounts into the specific charities involved in rebuilding, knowing they would show up as donations in his name, and then sent the press releases to every major news outlet.

  This was going to accomplish two things.

  The first, a reminder to him that sh
e could cripple him in a heartbeat with a few clicks on a keyboard.

  But the other aspect of this publicity would become a safety factor for her.

  Cyrus Parks’s name and face were known only in certain circles for a reason. The more powerful people were, the less they wanted to be known. Now the world was going to know the name, which would generate all kinds of research and poking into his life in a way he was going to hate...and make it far more difficult to put out another hit on her when the world was watching.

  He was a cold, heartless bastard, and she wasn’t going to waste a moment of guilt on him. For a man who’d devoted his entire career to trying to create a new race of humans, he had no regard for human life as it existed.

  Now that she’d enacted her own retribution for trying to kill her, she shifted focus back to Dodge Investigations, updating the file she’d made on Wanda Carrollton’s missing granddaughter, then updating the file on Tony Dawson. Once she was finished, she closed them.

  After that, there were dozens of new messages to go through, and phone calls to return that had been left on their voice mail. It was business as usual.

  * * *

  It took less than twenty-four hours for Cyrus’s “donations” to make the news, but he wasn’t aware of it until he got a phone call at work. His secretary buzzed him on the intercom.

  “Mr. Parks, there is a call for you on line one. It’s a reporter from the New York Times.”

  Cyrus frowned. “Thank you,” he said, and took the call.

  “This is Cyrus Parks.”

  “Mr. Parks! I’m Ed Warner, a reporter for the Times. We want to interview you regarding your generous donation to rebuilding on the Grand Bahama and Abaco after Hurricane Dorian. What prompted you to donate so much money? Forty million dollars is an amazing amount. Do you have personal connections there? Or was it a favorite holiday retreat for you?”

  Cyrus gasped. Forty million dollars? And then it hit him! That was what Wyrick did with his money.

  She gave it away. To a bunch of nobodies.

  “I have nothing to say,” he said, and hung up.

  Within seconds, his secretary was buzzing him again.