The Cure

by JG Faherty

  As she dialed the number with a shaking finger, she tried to rationalize that she was only being logical and protecting herself from public exposure.

  Leonard Marsh closed his cell phone and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of his office window.

  Tal had done it again. Somehow he’d convinced the DeGarmo woman to agree to a meeting, without any threat of violence and without bringing up her abilities.

  Now it was a matter of waiting. She’d said her first available night was Wednesday. He’d offered to come into town and meet with her before that, but she insisted her schedule at the clinic wouldn’t allow it.

  “Four more days,” he whispered to his reflection.

  The corpse-like face in the glass stared back, a deadly reminder of how important this woman was to him.

  He couldn’t take any chances. Opening the phone again, he punched in Tal’s number.

  “She’s agreed to meet,” he said as soon as the other man answered. “Wednesday. You’ll pick her up in one of the company cars. Make sure everything looks aboveboard. But in the meantime, I want a twenty-four hour surveillance on her.”

  He hung up before Tal could respond.

  Four more days. Then he could live again.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next four days passed by in agonizingly slow fashion for Leah. She tried to keep busy at work, but all she could think about was what Leonard Marsh wanted her to do.

  That she’d have to Cure something, or someone, was a given. The question was, could she trust him to keep her secret safe, or was he planning to blackmail her? Worse, what if it was all just a trick and he intended to kidnap her so he could turn her into some kind of human guinea pig?

  More than once she nearly broke down and called John, but each time she talked herself out of it. There was no point in getting him involved unless she had proof Marsh was up to no good.

  Then again, she kept telling herself, maybe it was a point in Marsh’s favor that he seemed to be going out of his way to not leave any clues as to her ability. Nothing was in writing, and the giant black man who’d snuck into her home had never said a word. It showed he knew how to keep a secret.

  Of course, it also showed he was a criminal.

  So she kept quiet, and did her best to act like nothing was wrong. On Tuesday, Chastity did ask if anything was bothering her, but Leah brushed off her concern.

  “I’m fine, really,” she said. “I’ve had a headache the past couple of days, that’s all. Maybe I need a vacation.”

  “Hell, I’ve been telling you that for over a year.” The bubbly vet tech laughed. “You need to get away for a few days, forget this place.”

  Leah did her best to smile. “We’ll see. Easier said than done.”

  Chastity flashed a naughty grin. “If I were you, I’d pick up that phone, get myself a hotel in Atlantic City for a few days and invite Mr. Hunky Policeman to join me.”

  “Enough about John! I should never have told you he took me out.”

  “Leah, it was your first date in, like, two years. Now it’s time for the next step. You and him, alone in a room. Some wine, some music, some—”

  “Oh crap.” Leah nearly dropped the clipboard she was holding.

  “What? I didn’t mean—”

  “No, not that. I just remembered something. I have to make a phone call.” She rushed out of the reception area and into her office.

  In her confusion about whether or not to tell John about Marsh, she’d forgotten to call him and cancel for Wednesday. Now she’d be canceling only a day before, something she hated to do because it bothered her so much when people did it to her.

  What if he asked why she was canceling? She had no excuse ready.

  And I know I’m a damn poor liar.

  She decided the best thing would be to leave a message on his machine at home. She dialed his number, praying he was at work.

  After four rings she got the hoped-for sound of his voice mail picking up. “Hello, you’ve reached John Carrera. I’m not available right now, so please leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I get your message. Have a nice day.”

  Leah chewed a nail as she waited for the beep.

  “John? It’s Leah. Listen, something’s come up for tomorrow. I have to go into Manhattan for the evening, so I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone dinner. How about over the weekend? I’m really sorry. I’ll call you on Thursday. Bye!”

  She hung up and then leaned back in her chair, staring at the phone. Did I sound normal? Was I too chatty? Maybe I should’ve let him know where I was going, in case something happens.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to quell the voices in her head. Nothing’s going to happen. Marsh may know your secret, he might even try to blackmail you, but he’s not going to hurt you. After all, if he did that, how could you work a Cure for him?

  Still, the anxious feeling wouldn’t go away.

  The long, black limousine pulled up in front of her house at exactly 5:30 p.m., just as Marsh had told her it would. A large man stepped out, and Leah realized it was the same person who’d been waiting inside her home. Before he could take more than a few steps she hurried out of the house and down to the car.

  The last thing she wanted was for the man to go inside and see the note she’d left on the counter for John. Just a little insurance in case Marsh didn’t let her go. At least John and the police would know what was going on when they went to the house to investigate her disappearance.

  “Good afternoon, Dr. DeGarmo. My name is Tal Nova,” the black man said, holding the limo door for her. “Please make yourself comfortable. It will take us about an hour to get to Mr. Marsh’s office at this time of day.”

  Leah ducked and entered the car, which was filled with the spicy scent of cinnamon gum. She slid across the soft leather seat, keeping as much distance as she could from Nova. He seemed to sense her nervousness, and he sat down across and at an angle from her.

  “Would you care for a drink?” His rich baritone and cultured words filled the confines of the vehicle, even though he hadn’t raised his voice. When he spoke, it reminded her of James Earl Jones reading a commercial.

  “No, thank you,” she said, figuring she might as well remain polite, as long as he did. “What can you—”

  Nova held up one finger. “I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to discuss anything with you. Please don’t bother to ask me any questions.”

  “But I just—”

  He leaned forward, and any traces of pleasantness disappeared from his face, leaving behind a cold, hard expression devoid of warmth. “I said no questions.”

  The man leaned back and turned his head away, staring out the window at the scenery passing by as the limousine glided down the Palisades Parkway toward Manhattan. His only movements were to occasionally open a stick of Big Red gum and pop it into his mouth. As each new piece went in, he’d take out the old, chewed piece and add it to the small pile growing in the ashtray next to him.

  Leah copied him, looking out her window and hoping it wasn’t the last time she’d be able to do so. After a while she closed her eyes, focusing on breathing deeply and staying calm.

  “Hey, Dr. DeGarmo.”

  Someone touched her. She opened her eyes and realized she’d dozed off. Glancing out the window, she could see they were just getting off the George Washington Bridge. A quick look at her watch told her she’d been asleep for over half an hour.

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Sure you don’t want that drink?”

  She started to say no, but the dry, sticky feeling in her mouth changed her mind. “Do you have water?”

  “Certainly.” Nova removed a bottle of spring water from a small cooler built into the bottom of the seat. “Here you go. I’ll let you open it. That way you know it’s safe.” He smiled, but there was no humor
in it.

  “Thank you.” She took a long swallow, letting the cold water wash away the cotton mouth caused by her anxiety.

  “You’re welcome.”

  After that he was silent again until the car pulled into the underground parking garage at Marsh Enterprises’ worldwide headquarters on Riverside and Seventy-Seventh. The afternoon sunlight turned the reflective steel-and-glass tower into gold, while its modernistic design of interlocking towers set it apart from the older, mostly brick-and-stone buildings around it.

  The car stopped in front of a private elevator. Nova exited and then held his hand out to help Leah from the car. “I’ll take to you Mr. Marsh,” he said, swiping a plastic card to open the elevator doors.

  Leah moved to the back wall as Nova pressed the Up button. Even in her apprehensive state she was able to wonder at the opulence of the elevator’s interior. Thick carpet covered the floor, and the walls were all real-wood paneling, varnished until they shined like a dining-room table. Soft, wordless music trickled down from a hidden speaker, and it took her a moment to recognize the tune as Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark”.

  What’s the world coming to, she wondered, when the Boss becomes elevator music?

  The elevator came to a smooth stop. The doors parted and Leah found herself staring at the largest office she’d ever seen. Just as the building itself was a monument to pretentiousness, the inside was apparently just as overdone.

  From the floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched the entire length of one wall, to the entertainment center and wet bar opposite the extra-large desk in front of the windows, and the paintings and sculptures decorating the office, the entire room screamed “excess” to someone who’d grown up in a middle-class, suburban neighborhood where vacations were taken at the Jersey Shore rather than on islands in the Caribbean, and “making it” meant purchasing a new car instead of a secondhand vehicle.

  She’d seen Marsh’s name in countless newspaper articles and television stories, had understood he was wealthy, but until now she’d never realized he was Donald Trump wealthy. Maybe Bill Gates wealthy.

  John was right, she told herself. I’ve had my head in the sand for too long. And look what that’s led to.

  “Hello, Dr. DeGarmo.”

  Behind the desk the tall, black leather chair swiveled around and she had her first look at Leonard Marsh.

  He’s seriously ill.

  It was obvious from his pale color and gaunt features, and the stiff, slow movements of his hands, arms and neck as he rolled his chair up to the desk.

  “Hello.” She tried to keep her voice neutral.

  “Please have a seat.” He waved a hand at the chairs placed in front of his desk.

  As she moved closer, she saw that his flesh had a distinct yellowish tint to it. A quick glance at her own hands as she sat down told her it wasn’t from the room’s fluorescent lighting.

  He’s jaundiced. Some kind of liver disease, perhaps?

  “I won’t beat around the bush, Dr. DeGarmo. I’m dying. Hepatocellular carcinoma.”

  Liver cancer. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She waited, knowing what was coming next.

  He leaned forward, his gaunt face corpse-like. When he spoke again, a faint foul odor reached her.

  Sick breath, we used to call it in school. It doesn’t matter if it’s an animal or a person, you can smell the death in them.

  “It’s come to my attention that you have certain…abilities that might be able to accomplish what chemotherapy has not.”

  “Your information is wrong. I’m a veterinarian. There’s nothing I can do for you.”

  Marsh laughed a sudden, barking sound that sent more foul breath her way. “Come now, Doctor. Do you think I’m stupid? Please look at the TV.” He pointed past her.

  Leah turned and watched as Tal Nova, who’d remained standing by the closed office door, went to the entertainment center and did something with a remote control. The flat-screen television came to life, and she was startled to see herself on the screen.

  Next to her was the dog she’d Cured the previous week, the one with the broken legs.

  The tape continued to show her shaving the dog’s legs and wrapping them in unnecessary bandages.

  Still hoping to convince him she was an ordinary person, Leah tried to argue. “I don’t see what this proves. I was taking care of a dog. That’s what I do.”

  “Yes, but this is what the dog looked like before Tal had it brought to your clinic.”

  Tal pushed another button, and the video changed to show the injured animal lying in the backseat of a car, its legs twisted and broken, blood all over its body.

  Leah turned back to face Marsh, but couldn’t find any words to say. They had her. She couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t want to admit it, either. Not out loud.

  “Now, I’m a reasonable man,” Marsh continued, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t expect you to do this for free. So I’m prepared to make you a generous offer. One hundred thousand dollars, donated to your clinic, for you to use any way you see fit.”

  One hundred thousand dollars? Leah knew the shock must be evident on her face. With that kind of money she could buy new equipment, hire a second assistant, maybe even offer discounts or free services to people who couldn’t afford to pay for their pets’ care. All for something she could do with just a touch.

  Then reality returned.

  “No, I…I can’t. You don’t understand.” She felt close to tears, heard the frustration in her voice.

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “I can’t!” Frustration bubbled up but she didn’t try to control it. “You think you know everything, but you don’t. I don’t just wave a magic wand over a dog and, presto, it’s Cured. What I do is more like surgery. I remove the sickness, the injury. But then…” She paused for breath.

  “Yes?” Marsh was staring intently at her.

  “It doesn’t disappear. I have to put it somewhere else. Put it in something else.” She waited to see if he’d understand.

  He did. His eyes went wide as he made the connection.

  “The gunman at the McDonald’s. He wasn’t shot.”

  Leah shook her head. “No. I just transferred the injuries from J…from the police officer to the man who was threatening me. That’s how it always works. For the animals, I keep terminal, aged strays from the shelter at my clinic. When I need to Cure someone’s pet, I transfer the sickness to the animal that’s already dying, one I can’t Cure because too many people already know it’s on its deathbed. I do it at the same time I administer the euthanasia. That’s the part your cameraman missed.”

  She sat back in her chair, exhausted from her admission. “That’s why I can’t Cure you. I have to complete the circle within a few hours, or whatever I’ve taken inside me becomes a permanent part of me.”

  Tal Nova spoke up for the first time, startling her. She’d forgotten he was there. “You mean, if you cure Mr. Marsh, but you don’t touch someone else, you’ll end up with the liver cancer?”

  “Within hours. So unless you have a terminal dog or cat here, I can’t help you. If something happened on the way back to the clinic, and we didn’t get there in time... ” The rest of her statement hung in the air.

  “So, that would be the only thing stopping you,” Marsh said, his voice slow and thoughtful.

  “Well, yes. I mean, if you wanted to come to my clinic tomorrow, after hours—”

  “No, I’m afraid that won’t do. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I can’t appear ill or it might lead to the board calling for me to step down. It has to be tonight.”

  Leah shook her head. “I’ve already explained that I can’t. Not tonight.”

  “Maybe this will change your mind.” Tal leaned past her and placed a photograph of John Carrera on the desk. It had been taken from a distance
, and showed him unlocking the door to a house that she assumed was his.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “Doesn’t concern you,” Tal said. He pointed at the picture. “What should concern you is what will happen to your policeman friend if you don’t do what you’re told.”

  “Listen to him, Doctor.” Marsh spoke before Leah could think of anything to say. “Mr. Nova is deadly serious. His skills in such matters are exceptional.”

  Leah looked down at the picture, her heart pounding. Just as she’d feared, she’d gotten herself involved with people a lot worse than white-collar criminals. She wanted to leap from the chair and run out of the office. Scream for help. Anything.

  But even if they let her leave the building, which she doubted, they’d hurt John. She couldn’t let that happen.

  “Fine. I’ll do it. But you have to take me to the clinic right after.”

  “Of course, Dr. DeGarmo. We wouldn’t want any harm to come to you. All I want is to be well again, and then you can forget this meeting ever took place. Now, what do I have to do?”

  “Just sit there.” Leah stood up and walked around the desk. Marsh’s lower abdomen, previously hidden behind the desk, glowed a faint green, a glow she knew only she could see.

  She reached out and took Marsh’s hand in hers. Electric fire raced through her, and she felt herself go rigid. Marsh’s body spasmed beneath her hands like he’d touched a live wire.

  “Aaah!” His voice was a strangled choke, as if his throat had constricted too much to allow air through.

  Then the surge of pain was gone, and Leah collapsed to her knees. Her vision faded, and white spots circled in the darkness.

  “What the fuck did you do to him?” a distant voice shouted.

  The thick carpet cushioned her head as it hit the floor. She struggled to focus on the dark shape before her, and it slowly took form, becoming the angry face of Tal Nova. He held a gun in one hand, pointed at her.