Seizure tb-2

by Kathy Reichs

  Then a sprint to the boat.

  Sailing south past Folly and Kiawah, Ben steered into the mouth of the Edisto River, heading inland to the warren of marshes and tidal pools surrounding Wadmalaw Sound.

  The channel narrowed as Sewee nosed through tall reeds and thick stands of cordgrass. Blackbirds circled, feasting on insects made drowsy by the afternoon heat. Egrets perched on dry mud banks, alert for movement in the still, brackish water.

  My plan was simple.

  Escape by car was impossible. Marsh Point had a single access road straddled by a well-manned guardhouse. No driving around it.

  Flight on foot was equally unrealistic. The hospital grounds occupied a tiny islet surrounded by muck and open water. The only walking path paralleled the road, and was completely exposed.

  That left a waterborne getaway.

  By worming through swampland to the lake surrounding the hospital, we could bypass the guardhouse and access the grounds from their unprotected rear.

  Ben’s face was tense as he maneuvered the tricky passages. For good reason. If we bottomed out in the shallow swamp, Sewee could be mired for hours.

  Ben’s gaze flicked left. His body stiffened.

  “Nobody freak,” he said quietly, “but there’s a monster gator ten yards to port.”

  Heads whipped sideways.

  An eight-foot alligator was lounging on a sandbar, its gray-green scales caked with dried mud. Reptilian eyes opened, regarded us dispassionately, then slowly slid shut again.

  “That’s right,” Shelton said in a shaky voice. “Nappy time. We’re not worth your trouble.”

  Ben motored down a channel, hit a dead end, reversed, chose a new route. Sweat dripped from his temples as he struggled to navigate the stifling green maze.

  Hi slapped his neck. “These mosquitoes are eating me alive.”

  “Me too.” Shelton tossed Hi the bug spray. “We must be delicious.”

  “Buckeye!” Ben eased Sewee between a pair of grassy humps.

  “Lunatic Island, twelve o’clock.”

  Fifty yards of open water separated us from Marsh Point Hospital and solid ground.

  “There.” Ben pointed to a knot of weeping willows growing hard against the water. “Those trees should screen us from view.”

  “Everyone knows his job?” I spoke to cover my pregame jitters. “Let’s review one more time.”

  “I dump you guys on shore,” Ben said, “then pull back and hide Sewee in the rushes. Wait for the signal.”

  Shelton spoke next. “We sneak to a door at the left rear corner of the building. I unlock it and stand guard.”

  Shelton had found and downloaded the hospital blueprints earlier that afternoon. After studying the layout, we had a pretty good feel for our target.

  “The door shouldn’t be alarmed,” I reminded.

  We were counting on that.

  The Marsh Point Hospital website emphasized the open, unrestrained character of their treatment facility. Residents were never locked in their rooms, and were generally free to roam the grounds at their leisure.

  Small wonder. Given the Alcatraz setup, there was nowhere for a patient to go.

  If only I could get a message to Chance. He could walk out to meet us.

  Impossible. Patients weren’t allowed unsupervised phone calls. Chance had no idea we were coming.

  But we couldn’t wait. Sunday meant less staff, less opportunity to get caught. I’d just have to find him myself.

  Hi picked up his part of the sequence. “Once inside, Tory and I climb to the fourth floor, where I keep watch in the stairwell.”

  My turn. “I search the guest rooms, find Chance, and we rejoin Hiram.”

  “Back down the stairs,” Hi continued. “Link up with Shelton.”

  “I text Ben,” Shelton said. “Then we haul ass back to the drop zone.”

  “Where I’ll be waiting,” Ben finished. “We disappear into the swamp. Done.”

  Our strategy was solid. But so much could go wrong.

  What if someone noticed Sewee? How many guards were in the building? How would I locate Chance’s room?

  I shoved my doubts aside. No plan could account for the unknown. We’d adjust on the fly.

  Deep breath. Go time. “Take us in.”

  “Roger that.” Ben gunned the engine and we fired across the lake.

  Reaching the cover of the willow trees, Shelton, Hi, and I jumped from the bow and waded ashore. Ben reversed Sewee and retreated into the marsh.

  “Now?” Hi asked.

  “Yes.” Steeling myself. “Do it.”

  SNAP.

  The power tore through me. Lightning. Fire. I closed my eyes and waited for the tremors to subside.

  My senses came alive. The world shifted into laser clarity.

  “Ready?” I panted.

  The boys nodded, golden eyes hidden behind dark lenses. Positioning my own sunglasses, I headed up the hill.

  The low-hanging sun at our backs helped obscure our approach. We scurried into the yard and ducked behind a hedgerow. Lucky break. The suffocating heat had kept everyone inside.

  I assessed our target in silence. The castle-like structure was equally menacing from this angle, but the entry was there as expected.

  “Here goes.” Shelton streaked to the door, pulled, and nearly fell flat as it swung open, unlocked. He held it ajar for Hi and me.

  “Good luck.” Shelton melted into the nearby bushes.

  Inside was a wide stairwell. I paused to get my bearings.

  Muffled voices came through a door to our right.

  Lobby, Hi mouthed.

  Keys jingled. A shoe squeaked. Someone laughed gruffly.

  Hi and I fired up the steps.

  Fourth floor. Double doors separated the stairwell from a long corridor beyond. I strained my ears.

  Nothing. Even flaring, the only sound I detected was a ticking clock.

  Where is everyone?

  “Wait here,” I whispered.

  I slipped into a white-tiled hallway lined with steel doors. A metal clipboard hung beside each one. At the far end sat an empty chair.

  I dashed from clipboard to clipboard, checking names, certain I’d be caught, one eye watching the elevator beyond the nurse’s station.

  Chance Claybourne’s was the fifth room down.

  I didn’t hesitate.

  Heart in my throat, I stepped inside.

  The space was cozy, with a single bed and a small wooden desk. Soft blue walls, bare. The sole window overlooked a Japanese rock garden.

  Chance was propped in bed, reading a book. Even wearing raggedy gym clothes, he looked like a fashion model. How could I still find him so attractive?

  Remember what he did. What he tried to cover up.

  Chance’s yelp brought me back to earth.

  “Tory?” Eyes popping. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”

  “You said you needed rescuing. I haven’t slain any dragons yet, but the day is young.”

  “Now?” Chance was too shocked to play it cool. “You have a way out? Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

  “No questions. Unless you have other plans?”

  “None whatsoever.” He began stuffing items into a duffel bag. “I take it you have a way off the grounds?”

  “Naturally.”

  “How’d you get up here without being noticed?” Chance glanced at his desk clock. “Nap time! Of course. That was clever. At this hour, the orderlies all play cards in the lobby.”

  “That was the idea.” Talk about dumb luck.

  Chance frowned. “But we’ll never get past them to the parking lot.”

  “We don’t need to. Will you please kick it up a notch?”

  I cracked the door and peered down the hall. Empty.

  “Come on.”

  Chance was hot on my heels as I raced toward the stairwell.

  Suddenly, an elevator opened.

  A doughy derriere backed into the hallway, followed by a ra
ttling medicine cart.

  I yanked open the closest door and shouldered Chance inside. The latch clicked just as the orderly turned around.

  “We should’ve run for it!” Chance hissed. “That’s the med cart. We’ll be stuck in here for at least ten minutes. By then the halls will be crawling with people.”

  “Let me think.”

  I looked around. We stood inside a linen closet. Shelves filled with blankets and towels lined one wall. A chest-high metal rectangle was cut into the other, with a handle attached dead center. Next to the handle was a shiny black button.

  “What is that?” Chance whispered.

  “No clue.”

  I pressed the button. Something thunked inside the wall.

  “Are you crazy? We don’t know what that does!”

  With a loud whir, the metal rectangle began to vibrate.

  In for a penny …

  I flipped the handle. A steel sheet slid upward, revealing a compartment the size of an oversized pizza oven.

  “It’s a dumbwaiter!” I whisper-shrieked, probably too loud.

  Instant change of plan. I yanked out my cell and texted Shelton and Hi.

  “Get in,” I said.

  “You’re nuts.”

  “It’s the only way out undetected. They must use this to send dirty linens down to the laundry.”

  Chance didn’t move. “It’s a metal coffin.”

  “We’ll be fine.” I couldn’t let him see my own nerves. “Once we shut the door, this thing will head straight to the ground floor.”

  He still didn’t budge.

  “Look.” I crawled inside the narrow compartment. “Ladies first.”

  Chance shook his head. “If we get stuck, you’re my next meal.” Wedging himself beside me, he tugged the door shut.

  Nothing happened.

  My mind fired terrifying images. Me, trapped inside this box. Struggling to move, to breathe. My heart rate went gangbusters. Sweat slicked my palms.

  Then the engine cut on and we began to descend.

  Chance lay beside me, panting, clearly unsettled by the confining space. My back rested against his chest. His knees pressed the back of my thighs.

  I was very, very aware of how close we were.

  SNUP.

  My flare died, leaving me momentarily drained. A tremor traveled my body. I slipped off my shades and rubbed my eyes. Slowly, the disorientation passed.

  The dumbwaiter stopped with a jerk. I thought of how it would appear if someone found us.

  Please, I prayed. No audience.

  The door rose.

  Chance practically leaped to the floor. I scrambled out behind him, trying to look everywhere at once.

  We’d landed in the corner of a large laundry facility. Granite counters lined the walls, interspersed with sinks and industrialsized washers and dryers. Thankfully, the room was empty.

  “We’re in the basement,” Chance whispered, eyes darting. “What next?”

  “We need a way out the back of the building.”

  “There’s a rear staircase used for deliveries.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I pay attention. I’ve been contemplating escape since the moment I arrived.”

  Chance was right. A narrow flight rose from the laundry room to a small patch of pavement behind the hospital.

  “Can we get to the water without being seen?” I asked.

  “Follow me.”

  Chance led me along the rear of the building, past the doorway through which I’d entered. I desperately hoped my texts had been received.

  Chance darted into a maze of hedges. I was right behind.

  “What’s this?” I hissed.

  “The meditation garden. It provides cover to the dogwood grove, which stretches out of sight from the hospital.”

  “You really have thought about this.”

  He smiled for the first time. “You’ve no idea.”

  In minutes we reached the weeping willows. Ben had Sewee idling. Hi and Shelton were already aboard. I can’t say who among us was most relieved.

  “Come on, come on, come on!” Hi squeaked. “Let’s bail.”

  “You did it.” Ben sounded mildly surprised. “Did anyone see you?”

  “Don’t think so,” I said as we clambered into the boat. “But let’s not tempt fate. Hit the gas!”

  Chance chuckled. “You four are not to be underestimated.”

  “Remember that,” I said. “We have a deal.”

  We were ten minutes beyond the swamp. Sewee was rounding Seabrook Island, skirting the coast in a northeasterly direction. Homeward bound.

  “The Celtic cross.” I had no intention of wasting time. “Where is it?”

  Chance considered before he spoke. “The cross has been at my father’s fishing camp since its purchase. Hollis and his buddies would go there to drink and avoid their wives.” The ghost of a smile teased Chance’s mouth. “Father often joked that the cabin needed a little holiness to offset the debauchery.”

  Adrenaline rushed through me. I could feel Bonny’s cross in my hands.

  “Where is this camp?” Ben asked.

  “Tut tut.” Chance leaned back and stretched. “I’m not revealing all my secrets at once.”

  “What the hell?” I jabbed a finger at his face. “You promised.”

  “And I’ll deliver.” Gently brushing aside my hand. “First I need a place to crash until I figure out my next move. Food. A shower.”

  Chance sent a meaningful look my way.

  “You can’t stay with me.” What was he thinking?

  “I’m short on options at the moment.” His tone hardened. “You need the cross. I need temporary lodgings. That makes us partners a bit longer.”

  He had me. But how could I hide him from Kit?

  “Tomorrow night,” Chance promised. “You have my word. Until then, you’re blessed with the pleasure of my company.”

  I could think of nothing to say.

  Chance smiled beatifically. “So. What’s for dinner?”

  WE BEAT KIT home by five minutes.

  Hi and Shelton took off the moment Sewee nosed up to the dock, claiming dinner responsibilities. They’d had their fill for one day.

  Glaring at Chance, Ben asked if I needed anything. I assured him things were under control. A tremendous but necessary lie.

  “Please show me to my quarters,” Chance said flippantly.

  “Cause any problems,” I warned, “and you sleep on that boat.”

  Once inside the townhouse, Coop circled our guest, snuffling, opinion uncertain. I was settling Chance in my bedroom when the front door opened.

  “Stay here and be quiet,” I ordered. “If you hear someone coming, hide.”

  “I’m hungry. Tell Daddy a friend came for dinner.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  I ran a brush through my hair and hand-smoothed my clothes, trying to calm my tattered nerves. Could I really pull this off?

  “Kit would recognize you,” I said. “The night you met wasn’t exactly forgettable. Besides, you’re basically a fugitive.”

  “I’ve grown a beard.” Chance stroked his chin. “And I can do a mean British accent. ’Ello Govna! May I ’ave some more gruel?”

  He clearly wasn’t taking the situation seriously.

  “I’m also grounded and not allowed visitors,” I said. “It won’t work.”

  “What am I supposed to eat?”

  “Dinner usually takes ten minutes. I’ll bring you something.”

  “Won’t he check on you later?”

  “He thinks I’m still angry. He won’t be suspicious if I lock myself in here.”

  “Tory!” Kit called. “Whitney’s here. Please come down for dinner.”

  “Frick!” Of all the timing. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “Whitney Dubois?” Chance grinned. “That pretentious nitwit from the cotillion committee?”

  I nodded miserably. “Why do you think I’m ma
king my debut?”

  “The question had occurred to me.”

  Kit could be such a jerk sometimes. He’d given me no warning. My one rule.

  “Sit tight.” I motioned for Coop to stay. “Any noise and my wolfdog will maul you.”

  I slipped out, leaving Chance nervously eyeing my pet.

  Kit was setting the table as Whitney moved about the kitchen. Two bags from Palmetto Pig rested on the counter.

  “Whitney. What a surprise.” I scowled at Kit. “I had no idea you were stopping by.”

  Kit remained focused on flatware.

  Whitney looked pleased. “When your father answered his work phone, I just knew that no proper dinner had been planned. I took it as a call to action.”

  Kit smiled at me weakly. “Isn’t that nice, Tor?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Whitney set out plastic containers of pulled pork barbeque and baked beans. “And we have so much to discuss.”

  “Discuss?” That sounded bad.

  “Tory, you’re in charge of drinks,” Kit said. “We’ll talk after we eat.”

  Warning bells dinged.

  Kit fidgeted throughout the meal, laughed too hard at my lame jokes. Whitney’s good mood was unshakable—my snidest comments sailed over the top of her carefully coiffed head.

  The dinging escalated to clanging. This was starting to feel like a setup.

  Whitney was spooning banana pudding into bowls when Kit cleared his throat.

  “I’ve made a few decisions. About our future.”

  “Have you.” I put down my fork.

  Kit’s foot began tapping. Whitney placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  Great. Whatever was coming, I wasn’t going to like it.

  “I’ve been offered a job.” He swallowed. “I’m going to accept.”

  “What!?” I studied his face. “Just like that?”

  “Your daddy thought long and hard,” Whitney began. “It wasn’t easy to—”

  “Excuse me.” My words were ice. “I’m having a private discussion with my father.”

  Whitney inhaled sharply.

  Kit placed his hand on hers.

  “I understand you’re upset,” Kit said. “But sometimes a parent has to make unpopular decisions. This is the best opportunity I’ve come across. It’s a down economy. Frankly, I’m lucky to have an offer at all.”

  My hands reached for each other in my lap. Clamped so tightly I could feel the bones in my fingers. “What is this wonderful opportunity?”