Monkey's Uncle [Drunk Monkeys 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  He shrugged. “I’ve made some contacts in the past couple of years. I stayed active with CMI in other ways, doing domestic clinics for them here and there, inner-city stuff.” He swirled the contents of his mug. “Now your turn. What’s really going on, and who was the other doctor?”

  What was going on was a lot more difficult to talk about than he would ever suspect. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need to invoke privilege.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  It was a running joke between them in the past that they were each other’s doctors, even if she was only a nurse. “Patient-doctor.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay.” He looked at Ellen, who nodded.

  “You’re already aware there is government hanky-panky involving the truth about Kite, right?” India asked.

  “Yeah, I just told you that.”

  “Then let me tell you something else.” She spun the tale Q and Mac had related to her about Kite, what she’d learned from Oscar and Yankee and Pandora and the others, the whole thing.

  Leaving out the part about how she’d learned it, or from whom.

  By the time she finished the story short of Mac arriving at the clinic, Paul had returned to the fridge and poured himself another mugful of tequila, almost all the way to the brim. He took a couple of large swallows, not even grimacing as the cold liquid rolled down his throat.

  Both he and Ellen looked grim. As health professionals, they knew all the ethical and moral ramifications of what had happened, beyond the overwhelming humanitarian crisis it had created.

  “I suspect I know the answer to this next question,” he started, “but I’m going to ask it anyway. You mixed up with the people who provided you with this inside knowledge?”

  “You sure you want to know that?”

  She heard Mama say something out in the waiting room, then the door opened, Oscar following Yankee through. It looked like they were about to say something until they spotted Paul and Ellen sitting there.

  Paul straightened, his gaze traveling up and down the men before returning to India. “And there’s my answer, I suppose.”

  India nodded. “They’re the good guys.”

  “What’s going on?” Yankee asked.

  She stood and walked over to them, pushing the door closed behind them before standing between them. “Dr. Paul Karsonnes, meet Yankee and Oscar. This is Paul’s wife, Ellen. She’s a nurse. They’re here to take over the clinic.”

  “Take over?” Oscar asked.

  Paul stood and took another long belt from his mug before transferring it to his left hand. He held out his right, shaking with the men. “I think the two of you are the missing puzzle piece India left out of the story she just told us.”

  Before Oscar or Yankee could say anything, India added, “Paul has a story to tell you guys, too.”

  Paul repeated what he’d told India about New York. The twunks’ grim expressions mirrored Paul’s when he finished.

  Oscar ran a hand through his short blond hair. “Shit,” he muttered.

  “That makes things more difficult,” Yankee added.

  “I’m guessing,” Paul said, “that this Mac guy India mentioned is really one of the people from The List?”

  India nodded.

  “Okay then.” Paul took a last slug of tequila, draining his mug. “Wow, I missed this stuff. And believe me, I never thought I’d ever say that.” He set the empty mug on the counter. “So what do we have to do to provide support to make sure they can come up with a vaccine for this crap?”

  Oscar and Yankee exchanged a look. “You want to help us?” Yankee cautiously asked.

  “Sounds like from what India just told me that you guys need all the help you can get. I don’t know what I can do from Colima, but I do have contacts here and there in the medical world. I might be able to finagle supplies or equipment for you.”

  “We need to talk to Papa first,” Oscar said.

  “I don’t need to know more than you need to tell me,” Paul said. “But I do know the world is utterly fucked, sooner or later, if someone doesn’t come up with a vaccine. If you guys are the best shot, you’ve got our help, if you want and need it.”

  Ellen nodded from where she stood next to him.

  “Okay,” Yankee said. “We’ll get back to you.”

  “We’ve already got a place to stay close by,” Paul said. “We arrived this morning and unpacked some things. If you all can help me unpack the rest of my presents for the clinic, I’d be grateful.”

  “Presents?” India asked.

  He smiled. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Yankee and Oscar helped them unload the large trailer they’d towed behind a van all the way from New York. It contained cases and cases of supplies, equipment, medicine, and—

  “An ultrasound machine!” India exclaimed, clapping her hands in joy.

  Paul grinned. “Yep. Thought you’d get a kick out of that. Picked it up cheap from a friend of mine closing down his private practice in New Jersey and heading to greener pastures in Canada.”

  “Canada?”

  “Yeah. He and his wife bought a little homestead up there and bugged out. Literally. Sold everything here, bought what they’d need to survive on their own, and took their two sons up there.”

  “Can’t blame them,” India mumbled.

  Staying out of the States was starting to sound like a dandy idea. Even more than when she was thinking about it before.

  Except now…

  Now Yankee and Oscar had somehow worked themselves under her skin in a way she’d never anticipated. She’d thought she was just scratching a deep itch with them.

  Now, they were the itch.

  The thought of them walking out of her life wasn’t one she wanted to contemplate.

  And hell, I’ve got a code name now.

  With Paul and Ellen relocating to Colima for good, India didn’t have a reason to stay. Not a good one, at least.

  She could make up all the chickenshit excuses she wanted, but the truth was, the town didn’t need her, and Paul knew the people.

  “What’s got your brow all furrowed,” Yankee asked her.

  Shaking off her mood, she smiled. “Nothing. I’m okay. Just a lot of stuff to digest.”

  “When we’re done here, the three of us need to go talk to Papa,” Yankee said.

  “Okay.”

  “Before you do that,” Paul said, “considering the circumstances, there’s something else you need to know.”

  “What?”

  “I was contacted by someone claiming to be a representative from the Church of the Rising Sunset a couple of months ago. Not just me, a lot of people. They were trolling a professional forum for doctors in the Tri-State area.”

  Both Yankee and Oscar perked up. “What did they want?”

  “Offering highly paid positions at a new research facility in Los Angeles. They wanted doctors experienced in working with Kite patients. Especially anyone with a research background or experience in virology or immunology.”

  “Doing what?” India asked.

  “They didn’t say. The implication, from the way the ad was worded, was they were going to be performing Kite research. At least that’s the way I took it.”

  Alarm bells went off in India’s mind. “Am I the only one who finds that suspicious?”

  “Well, I’ll admit I looked into it, just out of curiosity,” he said. “Apparently they do fund some charitable organizations, including immunization clinics. Maybe they’re genuinely jumping on the same bandwagon as everyone else, trying to help find a vaccine. But the funny thing was, when I asked for more information, they sent me a long questionnaire that, frankly, kind of creeped me out a little.”

  “Do you honestly think that snake oil salesman is really just looking to help?”

  “Personally? No. I get the same slimy feeling from him that you do. While my parents were alive, their pastor never begged them for money. In fact
, he ran classes at his church on money management for seniors, which involved completely nonreligious expenditures.”

  A little vindication filled her. She and Paul had always seen eye-to-eye on religious topics, getting along with the local padre more as a practical way to help the locals, not because either of them felt any affiliation to the flavor of Jesus he was preaching.

  But to have someone she considered an esteemed colleague so blatantly echoing her thoughts after not seeing each other for several years felt good.

  Damn good.

  “I don’t like,” Paul continued, “that Reverend Silo is using everything that happened to capitalize on rising anxieties to increase donations and church memberships. I don’t like him bringing Revelations into the mix when there are genuine problems plaguing the world. I also don’t like the rumors I’m hearing from friends of mine in the cities where he’s building those new strongholds.”

  “What rumors?”

  “That they’re also looking for doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals who ‘feel the Holy Spirit’ working in them to move to those locations and join their church. Since when have you ever seen another church actively recruit like that?”

  “Never,” she said. She was far behind on her reading. She was also a member of several nursing forums, but being the only one in their clinic had cut into her free time. If she wasn’t working, she was usually sleeping. Other than her e-mail and medical updates, she didn’t have time to socialize online.

  “Exactly,” Paul said. “And every conversation you and I ever had about him came rolling back through my head, ringing alarm bells.”

  “Doesn’t he have a big presence in New York?”

  “New Jersey,” he said. “And yes, but it’s not where he’s building one of his strongholds. He’s building one up in Vermont.”

  “Away from the big cities.”

  “That’d be my guess. But close enough to other cities in that region to keep a foot in the door when shit gets really, really bad.”

  Oscar and Yankee exchanged a glance. “On second thought,” Oscar said, “you all stay here. We’ll get Papa and bring him back here. I think that might be faster.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Oscar and Yankee returned an hour later with Papa.

  “Sorry about the interruption,” India said. She made the introductions. Papa wore an understandably wary look.

  After Paul once again repeated everything for him, Papa’s posture relaxed, but his expression grew even more grim. “That’s a lot to take in and may complicate our situation even more.”

  “No kidding,” India said.

  “But this makes some logistics easier,” Papa said. “It means we don’t have to leave Doc, Tango, and Pandora behind. One more Spanish-speaking set of eyes on the mission will help a lot.”

  India, Paul, and Ellen, with Mama’s help, had nearly finished organizing all the new supplies in the main storeroom. With their current rate of use, what they had now, in addition to regular supply shipments from CMI, could easily keep the clinic going for a couple of years.

  Although if things got bad really fast, India suspected the regular shipments might not be so regular at some point, if they didn’t stop altogether.

  Paul realized that, too. “Oh, by the way, I’ve got two friends driving down who are about a day behind us. They’re bringing a huge box truck full of stuff for the clinic. Including another fridge and several cases of vaccines and meds on dry ice.” He smiled. “We’ll have to figure out where to put everything.”

  India stared at him, incredulous. “You’re kidding me!” Today was like every Christmas in her life all rolled into one jumbolicious package of win.

  “Nope. A couple of brothers who are NYPD officers have decided to leave the city. They’re trying to figure out where to move that’s going to be safe long term. I offered to pay their way down here so they could scope it out for themselves. They’re obviously armed, so they can take care of themselves. They flew into Dallas to pick up the rental truck and supplies from CMI. If they like what they see here, they’ll probably be moving their families down here. They’re interested in homesteading. I figure they can help provide security for the town, too. Help the padre when he has to make runs out into the countryside.”

  Crime wasn’t a huge problem in the immediate area since there weren’t any drug cartels there, but India always kept herself armed when leaving the security of the town.

  “Wait a minute. Is this going to be a problem?” Papa asked. “The last thing we need are cops who decide they want to make some money off turning in two guys from The List.”

  “No,” Paul said. They’ve already sold out and move their families out of the city. They’ve been staying at a dorm at their precinct during their work shifts and commuting off the island for their time off. They’re just looking for the right place to move their families for safety. Even better? They both speak fluent Spanish. I bet they’d be willing to help with your little recon mission.”

  Papa finally turned to India. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  Papa nodded toward Paul. “Do you trust him?”

  “I trust Paul with my life. No way in hell he’d lie about this. Why?”

  “I wanted your opinion.”

  “My opinion is we need him on our side. He’s one of the few people I’d put my full trust in.”

  “Then that’s good enough for me.”

  “So what now?”

  “I guess we wait for his friends to show up and go from there. I need another confab with Bubba.” He looked at Paul. “Don’t suppose you could give me those men’s full names and particulars, huh?”

  Paul smiled. “I already have them. I needed it when I made their plane reservations for them.”

  A few minutes later, the information exchange had been made and Papa borrowed the now-spare bedroom to use for his sat-link session.

  India kept her fingers crossed as Paul was showing off the new ultrasound machine to her.

  Figures. We finally get a new one and I won’t get a chance to use it.

  Wait, bigger picture here.

  Nearly an hour later, Papa emerged from the bedroom. “Well?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Bubba said they check out. Families were recently relocated, both men close to the retirement mark. It would seem this day keeps getting better and better.” He stuck out a hand to Paul. “Just to be safe, you understand, I’m going to talk to your friends myself before I decide how much to tell them or whether to ask for their help.”

  Paul shook with him. “Of course.”

  * * * *

  It seemed they were locked into a hurry-up-and-wait cycle. Papa had left Yankee and Oscar at the clinic, and gave all three of them orders not to reveal the safe house location to Paul and Ellen yet.

  India wanted to remind Papa that fact was like the world’s worst-kept secret at that point, at least among the townspeople, but didn’t argue the issue. So far, it looked like she’d worked her way onto the commander’s good side and didn’t really want to fark that up.

  She hoped he’d remember what a help she’d been when it came time to discuss her moving on with the group when they finally left Colima.

  That night, Paul and Ellen treated the three of them to dinner at their new house, just two blocks from the clinic. “I wondered who bought this,” India said. “I noticed last week the sign was gone.”

  He grinned. “I asked Gomez not to tell you, that we wanted it to be a surprise when we arrived.”

  “Congratulations.” India had brought a couple of bottles of the tequila with them from the clinic to have with dinner.

  “I’m glad I’m pregnant,” Ellen said. “I heard all about that rotgut.” She smiled. “Robert and John are also bringing a load of baby supplies with them that we picked up in Dallas. If we have stuff we don’t end up using, we can gift it to people in town who need them.”

  India wouldn’t deny the little pang that struck her right
in the middle of her heart. She’d vaguely thought that, maybe, one day, she’d have a baby. That had required having a relationship, though. Which she hadn’t had until recently.

  Then again, technically I don’t have one now.

  She didn’t know where the future would lead, or if it would include Yankee and Oscar.

  Right now, all she wanted to do was put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.

  “You look pensive, Nurse Indy,” Paul teased.

  She shrugged, trying not to glance at her men. That was another thing about her relationship with Paul. He’d been like a big brother, one she’d never had. Both with the teasing, the mentorship…and being able to read when she was in a funk. “Just trying to wrap my head around everything is all.”

  “So we really might lose you to a traveling roadshow, huh?”

  “Looks like there’s a good chance of it.” Now she did glance at Yankee and Oscar and realized they were intently focused on her. “I have a couple of good reasons to take this act on the road.” She paused a beat and grinned. “And then there’s these two guys.”

  “Ooooh, buuurrrrn. Point to the nurse,” Paul said. “You guys will have to stay on your toes with her. I’ll warn you now, she won’t let you get away with slacking on anything.”

  “That’s a late memo,” Oscar said with a playful smile, “but thanks anyway.”

  * * * *

  John and Robert Juarez arrived the next morning, just after eight o’clock. Oscar drove back to the safe house to get Papa since they’d kept Mac there and working with Q, now that Paul had returned to man the clinic.

  India, Oscar, Yankee, Papa, Paul, and the newcomers locked themselves in the spare bedroom at the clinic to talk.

  They deferred the floor to Papa, who started with a rather pragmatic question.

  “If you had a chance to participate in making sure a Kite vaccine is found, even if it meant giving up a potential financial windfall, would you do it?”

  The men, whose lined faces spoke to their years of hard service in law enforcement, shared a glance. “What is this about?” John asked. He was older by two years, but the brothers looked enough alike they could have been mistaken for twins. Prematurely aged by their jobs, they were only forty-four and forty-six, but grey had taken over their brown hair.