The Edge of Death: (Sequel to ADRENALINE)

by John Benedict

  “You don’t have to do that,” Chip said, although he had to admit he was really hungry.

  “No, I really appreciate you looking out for my wife. And chasing Chandler away.” Landry shook his head. “To think that scumbag is still lurking around. Gives me the creeps.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Chip said. “I didn’t really chase him, though. He just scooted, right after I called you.”

  “Well, thanks for calling me, anyway. I can’t tell you how relieved I feel to have the police involved.” He gestured to the uniformed officer standing guard outside Mrs. Landry’s room. “Makes me feel a lot safer.” Another yawn surfaced and Landry fought to suppress it, but he was only partially successful. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. “The cafeteria?”

  Chip hesitated, but only for a second. “There’s a new coffee shop—Au Bon Pain—that just opened on the med school side. They have really good bagel egg sandwiches.”

  “All right, sounds good,” Landry said, returning Chip’s smile. “Lead the way. I could use some coffee, too.”

  Traveling along one of the long corridors that connected the hospital side of the med center to the medical school side, Landry and Chip passed by one of the main entrances just as Kristin entered, walking briskly, head down.

  “Hey, Kristin,” Chip said.

  She stopped and looked up, her smile fading. “Oh. Hi Chip,” she said coolly.

  “You’re here early,” Chip remarked.

  “I have some paperwork to catch up on,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “No problem. We won’t hold you up. Oh—this is Dr. Landry. This is my friend, Kristin, who works in radiology.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Landry said, extending his hand to her.

  “Nice to meet you, sir. I listened to your lecture—”

  “Call me Doug.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “We were just heading for breakfast,” Landry said. “Why don’t you join us?”

  Chip groaned inwardly and Kristin looked uncomfortable. “Well,” she said, “I really should get started on—”

  Landry held up his hands and interjected, “I insist. It’s my treat.”

  “Well, okay,” she said with a tight smile. She glanced at her watch. “I guess I could—but just a quickie.”

  “Great.” They resumed walking. “Chip here,” Landry patted Chip’s shoulder, “saved my wife from Chandler last night.”

  “What?” Kristin gaped from Landry to Chip.

  “I understand you’ve had your share of run-ins with Chandler as well,” Landry said.

  “Yes.” She turned to Chip. “What happened?”

  “Chandler was back here at the med center,” Chip said. “In Mrs. Landry’s room.”

  Kristin’s eyes widened.

  “I’ll fill you in over breakfast. I’m starved,” he added, ushering the two of them into the crowded coffee shop. “If you guys would order, I’ll grab a table. Can you get me a bagel egg sandwich with bacon and a large coffee and some OJ?”

  Ten minutes later, Kristin took a small bite of her avocado bagel sandwich and washed it down with some organic apple juice before asking Chip, “So, was it really him?”

  “It was him, all right,” Chip said.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Right after I hung up with Dr. Landry, I called security.”

  “Did they catch him?” she asked excitedly.

  “No,” Chip said. “He left just before they got there.”

  “Dang it,” Kristin said, balling one hand into a fist.

  “And I saw Chandler leave in an old model silver or gray Chevy sedan,” Chip said. “I even called the tip line at the Hershey PD and told them about the car.”

  “Is Mrs. Landry okay?” Kristin asked Dr. Landry.

  “Yes,” Doug said. “Laura’s fine. He didn’t touch her. In fact, I don’t even think she knew he was there.”

  “Do you think Chandler read your mind?” Kristin asked Chip.

  Chip almost choked on his sandwich and Landry raised his eyebrows.

  “When you called security?” she added.

  “I dunno,” Chip said quietly.

  Kristin turned to Landry. “We suspect Chandler can read minds.”

  Here we go, Chip thought, and was glad Kristin couldn’t read his mind.

  Without waiting for a response from Landry, she continued. “At least I do. Chip’s never been alone with Chandler, fighting for his life.”

  “Chip told me about that,” Landry said.

  “My dog saved me,” she said, her voice tight. “Chandler killed him.”

  “I’m sorry about your dog,” Landry said.

  “Thank you,” Kristin said, her eyes beginning to mist over. “You fought with Chandler, right, Dr. Landry?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So what do you think? Did he read your mind?” she asked, quickly dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

  “It’s possible; I can’t say. But what I do know is that your dog may have saved my life, too.”

  “How so?” Kristin asked, looking intently at Landry.

  “Chandler was extremely weak from blood loss,” Landry said, “and his neck wounds were severe—they looked fatal to me. Somehow, he still managed to put up one helluva fight. I’m not sure I’d ever want to tangle with him when he’s healthy.”

  “Banjo was quite an extraordinary dog,” Chip said.

  Kristin did a double take at Chip, her ponytail swinging. “My dog’s—”

  Chip quickly interrupted her. “Smartest dog I’ve ever seen,” he said, and silenced her with a hard stare.

  Landry eyed the two of them curiously. “How Chandler’s walking about now, I don’t have a clue,” Landry said. “He’s one tough bastard.”

  “Agreed,” Chip said.

  “What did you think of my Kirlian photograph?” she asked.

  “Huh?” Landry said, looking blank.

  Her head whipped toward Chip. “You did tell him, didn’t you?” she demanded.

  “Well, not yet,” Chip managed. “I was getting around to it.”

  “Right,” Kristin said with a huff. “I know you don’t believe in them. But I thought maybe someone with a broader background, more experience, might have a different take on it. Dr. Landry, surely you’ve heard of Kirlian photography?”

  Landry’s brow creased, struggling with this one. “You mean the pictures with the halos?”

  “Yes.” Kristin beamed at him. “The auras.”

  Relief washed over Landry’s face.

  “See?” She glared at Chip before turning back to Landry. “Well, I took one of Chandler the other day,” she said, “and his photo showed no aura.”

  “That’s amazing,” Landry said evenly.

  “Exactly. I told you he’d understand.” She threw Chip another sour look.

  “What does it mean?” Landry asked, his tone tentative.

  “Well, we don’t know, exactly,” she admitted.

  “You might as well tell him about the picture from the library,” Chip said, unable to hold back a sigh.

  “All right, I will,” Kristin said indignantly. “I found an old picture of a man without an aura in the State Library.”

  “I see,” Landry said.

  Kristin leaned forward. Here it comes, Chip thought, and played with his sandwich. In a hushed voice, she said, “It said he was suspected of being a vampire.”

  “Oh,” Landry said. An awkward silence followed and everyone sipped their drinks. Finally Landry said to her, “So you think Chandler’s a vampire?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she said, her tone defensive. “It’s just that there’s stuff we can’t explain about him. Like how he heals so fast, and is resistant to dying.”

  “You’ve got a point there,” Landry said. Another uncomfortable silence followed.

  “Look,” Kristin said, rising abruptly. “I can tell you guys think I’ve lost my marbles. I really do have to get to work.” She left her bag
el sandwich—hardly touched—on her plate and made a quick exit.

  C H A P T E R 5 1

  Tuesday, 8:30 a.m.

  They both watched Kristin leave, her boots clomping loudly on the tile floor. Chip polished off his bagel sandwich while Landry played with the cardboard sleeve around his coffee cup. When she was no longer in sight, Chip cleared his throat. “She just told me the vampire stuff yesterday,” he said in a low voice. “If you ask me, I think it’s kind of crazy.”

  “It is pretty far out there,” Landry admitted.

  “She’s usually very level-headed,” Chip said.

  “I’m sure she is,” Landry replied.

  “I think this whole Chandler thing—and losing her dog—have thrown her for a loop.”

  “Undoubtedly.” Landry looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t.

  “Dr. Landry, you said his wounds looked fatal. You’re a doctor. How do you think Chandler survived that?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself the same thing. But I don’t think he’s a vampire,” Landry added with a smile.

  “Me either.” Chip returned the smile. “She has quite the imagination.”

  “I wasn’t going to say this,” Landry said slowly, “but I thought you said you guys were friends. Seemed a bit frosty to me.”

  “We had a slight disagreement—well, an argument—yesterday.”

  “About the vampire picture?”

  “No, not exactly,” Chip said, wincing. “She lied to me about having a boyfriend. I mean, I can put up with a lot of things—I’m really pretty easygoing. But lying is not one of them. In my book, it’s pretty serious.”

  “How long has she been going out with the guy?” Landry asked.

  “That’s just it—she’s not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She made the guy up. She said she was going out with this guy, but she’s not; he doesn’t exist.”

  “That is different,” Landry conceded. “Why would she do that?”

  “I have no idea. She said it’s complicated.”

  “It always is,” Landry said, his smile returning. “Look, Chip, I’m no expert at these things—far from it—but I think she likes you.”

  “Why do you say that? I thought you just said frosty.”

  “I did,” Landry said. “But frosty implies some kind of emotional attachment. I think she cares about what you think. Besides, look on the bright side—she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Well, whatever—I’m not going there. Lying is lying.”

  Landry paused and drank some coffee. He continued in a more thoughtful tone. “So when she said Chandler could read minds and you didn’t disagree—even though I know you do—were you lying?”

  “That’s different,” Chip answered quickly. “I was just trying to protect her feelings. She’s been through a lot.”

  “I see.”

  “So how was Mrs. Landry doing this morning?” Chip asked, ready for a change of subject.

  “Great. Laura seems to be making giant strides.”

  “That is good news,” Chip said. “Her rhythm has certainly stabilized.”

  Landry’s eyes lit up, erasing his earlier fatigued look. “This morning, early, around six a.m., she opened her eyes for the first time since coming out of the PML. And she squeezed my hand.”

  “Does she seem . . . uh, okay?” Chip asked.

  “Yes. I spent an hour or so filling her in on things.”

  “Do you think she understands?”

  “Absolutely. Her mind seems completely intact. She would nod and shake her head appropriately—she can’t talk, of course, because of the breathing tube.”

  “Right.”

  “She even wrote me a couple of notes.”

  “That is impressive,” Chip said, and meant it.

  “I told her about you—how you helped protect her.”

  Chip drained his coffee.

  Landry reached into his pocket and produced several scraps of paper. “Here, look a this.” He handed Chip one.

  The note, neatly printed, read: I would like to meet Chip and thank him myself.

  “Nice,” Chip said and handed the note back. “You guys have a special relationship, don’t you?” Chip asked, meeting Landry’s eyes.

  “Yes, we do.”

  “After all those years—” Chip stopped himself and he felt his face redden. “Sorry about that. You know what I mean. What I’m trying to say is, was it always that way for you?”

  “Yes,” Landry said, looking off into space and showing no sign of being offended. “It was love at first sight.”

  “Seriously? I always thought that was make-believe—you know, fake.”

  “Nope, it’s for real,” Landry said, refocusing on Chip.

  Chip thought for a few moments, then said, “So, which is more out there, I wonder? Love at first sight? Or vampires?”

  Landry chuckled at this.

  “Or love at first bite?” Chip added.

  Landry’s grin sagged a bit. “I can’t wait to take her home.”

  “I’m sure you can’t,” Chip said, even as he thought Landry was rushing things a bit. Two days ago, Mrs. Landry had been close to death in the PML.

  Landry paused for several moments, a contemplative look settling on his face. “Her progress is truly remarkable.”

  “Yeah, remarkable,” Chip said, looking away.

  C H A P T E R 5 2

  Tuesday, 11:30 p.m.

  Chip banged on the door again, louder. As he stood waiting on the cement stoop, gusts of wind whipped his short hair into a mess.

  Finally, the door opened halfway and Kristin stood there in her nightgown. “What are you doing here?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. She looked as if she’d just awakened. She also didn’t look too happy to see him.

  “You said your dad lives in Halifax—I looked up his address. Besides, I saw your car parked outside.” He knew he should’ve called, but there was that small issue of his missing phone.

  “Is your dad home?” Chip asked, looking around.

  “Yes. He went to bed already.” She brushed her long hair out of her face—no ponytail this evening. “So did I.” She was still regarding him with suspicion.

  “Look, I’m sorry about the surprise visit. I can explain. But I need to talk to you,” Chip insisted. “Please.”

  She hesitated, then opened the door wider. “All right, since you drove all the way up here—c’mon in.”

  “Thanks,” Chip said as he entered.

  “Have a seat while I put some clothes on.” She gestured to the living room.

  “All right.” He made himself comfortable on the upholstered sofa.

  “What’s so urgent, Allison?” she said as she moved away.

  “I saw his car again.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. “Whose car?”

  “Chandler’s.”

  Kristin came back into the living room and sat on the edge of a chair across from him. “Really?”

  “Yes. I was just leaving the med center after my shift and I saw it in the parking lot.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, staring at him intently.

  “Yes. I got a good look at it this time, complete with license plate number. It’s a ’69 silver Impala, by the way. Do you have your computer around?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Get it. I’ll show you.”

  She slid out of the chair and padded in her bare feet across the living room throw rug. He couldn’t help but notice how short her nightgown was and that her underwear showed through the white gauzy fabric. She retrieved a computer bag from a cabinet under the bookcase. “Don’t you think we should call the police?” she said as she fished her laptop out. The Mac chimed as she opened the lid and turned it on.

  “I already did. They took down the plate number and said they’ll send some officers to check it out soon.”

  “Good,” she said, and handed him the computer.

  Chip rapidly cal
led up a Google map and pointed at the little red marker in the center of the screen. “Here it is.”

  Kristin leaned over to look at the screen. “It looks like the med center. What’s the red dot?” She sat down on the sofa beside him.

  “My phone. I threw it onto the backseat of his car.” He looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

  “What?” she asked incredulously, meeting his eyes.

  “The back window was open a crack, so I slipped it in.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “So I can track his car.”

  Kristin frowned.

  “With this app I have on the phone,” he said, “I can track its whereabouts—locate it.”

  She smiled as understanding dawned. “Nice,” she said, but her smile soon gave way to a worried look. “Do you think he knows it’s there? Did he see you or get near you?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t see him around anywhere.”

  “So, Chandler’s back at the med center,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “What do you think he’s up to?”

  “I don’t know,” Chip said. “But I am wondering how Mrs. Landry fits in.”

  “What could she possibly have to do with any of this?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Chip said. “But Chandler’s obviously interested in her. He was in her room the other night. And there was that whole blood transfusion story in the PML I told you about.”

  “Right.”

  “Listen, I need to ask you a favor.”

  “What?” she said, although he thought he could detect some of her initial wariness returning.

  “Can you develop some film for me?”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I took some pictures. Remember I told you I have an old Minolta X-700 that uses 35 millimeter film?”

  “Uh-huh. You use it to take pictures with your telescope.”

  “Exactly,” Chip said, surprised she remembered.

  “Well, all my stuff’s back at my apartment,” she said. “In the basement.”