by Cat Connor
Sam slid his hand across the tabletop sliding the contents toward me. I peered at the jumble of objects and pieces of paper. “No wallet?”
Harvey sat motionless.
“Who wanders about a market without a wallet?” I asked the men at the table. “Funny. The girl didn’t have one either.”
He had to have money or credit cards and probably ID somewhere.
“Sam – take off his shoes.”
Sam did as he was asked and found what I expected: a military ID card, two credit cards and NZ dollars.
With that mystery solved, I scrutinized the table contents again. No cell phone, no hotel room key, or key of any sort.
“Want to tell me what’s in the little baggie?” I flicked the bag out from the other things with the end of my pen. It contained two small white pills that looked like aspirin tablets, scored across the center.
He said nothing.
This was growing old fast.
Sam flipped the packet over and recognized a far-too-familiar brand name – Roche – with a small circle with a number two inside it. He threw it to Doc who confirmed they were two-milligram Rohypnol tablets.
“Is Sean still in range?” I asked Sam quietly.
He shook his head.
“Call him then. I want the hospital to check for Flunitrazepam use.”
He moved away, removed his gloves and called Sean’s cell phone.
Bauer had the benefit of my full attention. “You kidnapped a little girl, fed her Roofies and raped her. It shouldn’t be too hard to get some hefty charges to stick to you.”
He smirked.
I wanted to pull his fingers off one by one with a pair of rusty pliers then make him watch as I fed them to piranha. Fingerless, bleeding, with his consciousness waning I’d stake him out next to an ant colony and then feed him methamphetamine so he was fully awake when the soldier ants started eating him. I could feel my pulse pounding in my temples.
“Any plans to leave the country with her?”
He stared at the wall.
“Where’s your friend? You know, the one they call Hawk?”
My head spun in slow circles, dark holes appeared in my vision.
“Seen this kid before?” I showed him a photograph of Melanie Talbot. “She has been hanging out with Emmet Smith, another person who seems to like Bruce Willis movies.”
He blinked slowly. I saw the barest of reactions concealed by the blink. Emmet Smith meant something to him.
“Wanna tell me where these three kids are?” Lee slid photographs over to me. I held them up one at a time. “Samantha Rowe, age twelve; Tasha Cravino, age eleven; Nicola Gallagher, age nine. Names ring a bell do they?” I added Melanie Talbot’s and Abbey Jenkins’ pictures to the mix.
His smirk returned but he remained silent.
My head spun.
Spun and spun.
I couldn’t stop it.
The walls swayed.
Bauer blurred. I closed my right eye in an effort to see better.
Fuck!
I recognized the beginning of a major migraine. I leaned toward Lee slightly and hoped like hell I didn’t fall onto him. I whispered, “There’s a problem.”
He whispered his reply, “Yeah a big one, NCIS have emailed me directly and asked us to turn over the suspect. They want him for sexually assaulting an officer.” Another alert sounded. “Gets worse. We have received a joint request from Army and Navy to turn him over to NCIS.”
Damn. He was the second person involved in the case NCIS had an interest in and now Army wanted in as well. At least the NCIS interest was easily dealt with, a quick phone call or email to Special Agent Noel Gerrard would take care of that. It wouldn’t be bad working with him again.
“That’s not good. I’ll email Gerrard myself and make sure he’s in on the loop,” I said trying desperately to shake the dizzy fog from my mind without moving my head. I felt sick. My left arm prickled then went numb.
His head turned toward me, words drifted in the air as they came out of his mouth, “Shit, Ellie, not good at all.”
“Take over,” I whispered unable to open my right eye.
Lee found my microphone, turned it back on and pinned it to my shirt.
“We need to monitor you,” he said.
I didn’t care.
Doc’s voice was suddenly in my head, a quiet whisper, “What’s the matter?”
I ignored him.
My focus was on the door. If I was careful, I knew I could get there without letting Bauer know something was wrong. I stood up, walked behind Bauer’s chair and crossed the room without incident. The door handle turned by itself. A blue sleeve flashed past my face. Doc’s voice rolled over me.
“Hey Conway, let’s go get you some meds,” he said.
I looked at him then, at the blue sleeve. It wasn’t his. It was Hooch’s.
“Don’t leave Lee,” I said. The words danced across the air to Doc. He caught and swallowed them.
Wrong.
I said it again.
This time he caught them and shoved them in his ears. He nodded and spoke to Sam. I saw the words fly through the air like little arrows. They stuck in Sam. He pulled them out and threw them at Lee. Lee caught them, unfurled the arrows and nodded.
“Lee’s fine with Sam,” Doc said, his words sparkled and twinkled.
Hooch barked then took my arm. Doc was somewhere close; I could smell him.
The dog didn’t even drool. He must’ve finally been housebroken.
Thank god!
Fourteen
Remedy
I was sufficiently aware of my surroundings to know we were in the elevator and that Hooch was close by. Police dogs are okay in hotels. The movement sucked. My brain spun out of control. It bounced off the sides of my skull and hurt like hell. I wanted to cover my right eye with my hand to stop the pain but I knew Doc would start going all doctor on me if I did. My heart fell to my boots with a sickening thud when the elevator stopped.
I heard Sean’s voice in my head but I couldn’t figure out how he got in there. “I’m on my way back. We have confirmation of rape and Rohypnol use.”
Sam joined him and said, “Ellie’s taking a break. Join us A-sap.”
Oh, I was taking a break … and that was why I was in my room?
Hooch spoke to me, “Can I do something for you?”
Wow, they train their police dogs well here.
Doc replied, “Yes, we’re out of coffee for the filter machine, can you order a pot of coffee please?”
I watched Hooch make a call from the room then he left. I was in awe of his ability to do things without opposable thumbs. Pain shot through my head, nausea rose and my left arm wouldn’t move properly.
Words floated in the air as though someone had typed them. “Here, take these.”
Doc held out two capsules and a glass of water. I took them, gagging a few times as I swallowed. There was something behind me. I leaned on it. A couch.
Lee kept talking to me.
Shut up.
I couldn’t see him anywhere.
“This is not a stroke,” I said to Doc. Watching my words take flight and leave a trail of sparkly dust. At least I don’t think it is. “This is a migraine from hell.”
Lee was still talking. Maybe Mac would know where he was and why I couldn’t see him. I pulled my cell from my pocket and called home.
The ringing stopped after a few minutes and Mac’s voice filled the void his absence left in my heart. “We can’t take your call right now, probably didn’t hear the phone ring. Leave your number and a brief message we’ll get back to you as soon as we can.”
It was the middle of the night in Virginia, why wasn’t he home?
Damn.
Doc kept talking. The words made no sense.
His voice distracted me from finding Mac’s mobile number. I could only see out of my left eye and everything was slightly blurry. I hit M but that was only our home and work numbers, then I remembered and scrolled forward
. His mobile was under G. Galileo.
I hit call. Someone answered it within a couple of rings, “Hello.”
The ‘hello’ confused me.
“Mac?”
Mac didn’t say ‘hello’ when I rang. He said ‘babe’ to which my reply was always ‘dude.’
“No, you got the wrong number,” the voice said.
I started to close my phone when the voice spoke again, “Wait, I know you.”
I lifted the phone back to my ear.
“You do?”
“Yes I do. Are you in your room?”
“I think so.”
I looked around slowly through the fireworks exploding and the black holes, I deduced it didn’t look like my bedroom. I didn’t have a couch or a table in my bedroom.
Creepy.
I shut my phone.
Why didn’t Mac answer his cell? Who did answer his phone?
Too many voices competed in my mind. Doc said, “She’s trying to reach Mac.”
“I can’t see you,” I replied, pressing my hand to my ear to try to stop the intrusion.
He came closer, “Can you see me now?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Nothing he said made any sense.
A door shut. I think it shut.
I could hear Sam and Lee talking to someone else. Everybody needed to get the hell out of my head. “Shut up!”
Gingerly, I lay on the couch and pulled a cushion over my head. Violent pain sliced through my skull bringing a huge wave of nausea with it.
“There’s too much noise! Shut up!” Everything swam and I hated swimming. All that fuc’n chlorine. The dark from under the cushion was soothing.
My eyes closed. I just might want to die.
The noise in my head started up again. How the hell am I supposed to work with shrunken giants in my head?
It’s not right.
A flash of something important came to me. If I could hear them, they could hear me. “He knew Emmet Smith and he could know where he is now. Find out where Bauer is staying. I want his laptop and cell phone. He has to be communicating with someone else from the cell, probably Emmet.” The effort involved in speaking used up all available coherence.
My head pounded in a disjointed rhythm; I knew the opening bars but couldn’t grasp the name of the song. Someone was knocking.
The voice was familiar but softer than usual, and muffled. Words with no meaning.
Sounds. I took the pillow off my head and listened.
Someone knocked. Then I heard the voice again.
It was a struggle to get vertical and stagger toward the door.
The voices in my head were loud and insufferable and I wished they would shut up. A louder, more insistent voice behind me said, “Conway – sit back down! I’ll get the door.”
“Shut up!” I covered my ears with my hands. All that did was remove the external noise.
The door was slipping away; it blurred and wavered. The noise on top of the blurring was too much.
A tunnel opened, the edges swirled and faces emerged from the middle, peering at me like bobble-headed freakish toys. I smacked my hand into the side of my head, a wave of pain crashed down and the noise stopped.
It stopped.
Dodging faces coming at me, I stepped back. Something crunched under my foot.
My eyes closed involuntarily, hoping to stop the rapid movement around me. Everything swayed and swirled. I opened them again. An out-of-focus face closed in on me. “Conway, do you have to be contrary all the time?” Doc said reaching out for me.
I succumbed to a falling, sinking, feeling. It wanted me.
There was a floating weightlessness for a few moments then I felt something solid behind me. My eyes opened but everything moved too fast. A voice cracked my peace and split it wide open.
My cell phone rang. Doc answered it.
Then I heard the other voice again.
As he talked, he turned around and took something from another person. Then the door shut. I heard the click. It echoed in my head for a split second. Silence followed and left a big gap where once were loud obnoxious voices. He was talking to someone but the words were lost. I couldn’t see them. His voice faded then came back. Still the words were lost. They were such faded words that when they hit the air, their colors merged into nothing.
Doc spoke again, “Conway?”
A coffee cup hovered in front of me; I couldn’t see a hand holding the cup. It smelled delicious yet made me nauseous.
The cup floated then finally settled on the coffee table. The cup itself seemed to move in and out, as if it were breathing. I fought the temptation to throw it. Cups shouldn’t breathe.
He was on the phone talking to someone. Not that I cared, no one was in my head any more. It was almost peaceful.
My phone was back on the table. I saw it when I reached to pick up the cup. It’d stopped breathing and felt safe to hold.
I turned to look for Doc but there didn’t seem to be anyone there.
“Hey,” said a voice from the chair to the right of mine. “We have a dinner date.”
The insanity in my head was gone, replaced by a soothing fuzziness. I tested my vision and with relief found the black holes were gone. I no longer had to look around them but still needed my right eye closed to stop the pain.
Words were words again, invisible and spoken. All the pretty pictures faded. Then I realized who he was and what he’d witnessed.
Way to look like a retard, Ellie.
“It’s okay.” I felt like a complete imbecile. “You don’t have to hang around. I’m feeling better.”
“I can tell.” He grinned. “We,” he pointed to me then himself, “have a dinner date … did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied with care, trying to placate the confusion in my mind. “It’s Wednesday then?”
Why didn’t Mac answer his phone? He’s always there when I need him. Then it occurred to me he was probably taking care of Carla. So I guess I can go out with Rowan for dinner.
It started slowly and quietly and took a few bars before I recognized the song I could hear. Mac spoke so softly under the words I almost missed it. “It’s all about the music. Caine is watching Carla.” The music grew louder. I hummed along to Bon Jovi’s ‘Always.’ Mac used to love to sing along to it in the car.
Rowan spoke as I slipped lazily back to the present. “You still with me?”
“Yes.”
“We have a date.”
“You still want to take me out?”
He smiled. It still really bugged me that someone else answered Mac’s phone.
“Hard day?” Rowan asked.
“I’ve had better.” I was feeling more and more like me as the minutes passed. I stood up slowly. I wasn’t quite as steady as I thought. “Where’s Doc?”
Rowan jumped to his feet, his hands held me at the elbows until I stopped swaying. “All right?”
“Doc?” I said again.
“I’m here,” Kurt replied from behind me.
“I need to take this off.” I tried to unclip my holster.
“Let me.” Doc’s fingers slid along the inside of my waist band. He pried the holster off my belt with his thumb and laid it gently on the table.
Rowan looked down at the holster. There was an element of surprise in his voice when he said, “I never noticed you were armed.”
“I was working, not out jogging.”
“Sit back down, please,” Doc said, holding my arm at the elbow. Without argument, I sat down a little too heavily. My legs felt like a strange mixture of Jell-O and pudding. My mind was a soft comforting pillow, no pain just puffy fluff – the familiar buzz from Demerol. “Dammit Conway, you really are in a bad way. No contrariness.”
“I’m okay.” I tried desperately to make it so.
“Do you need anything?” Doc’s fingers rested on the inside of my wrist. I knew he was taking my pulse.
“More coffee would be freaking awesome,
please.”
Doc looked over to Rowan. “You heard the lady.”
“I’ve got a suspect downstairs.” I said and started to stand up.
Doc’s hands pressed my shoulders back down. “No, Conway. You have the evening off. Doctor’s orders. You’re loaded on Demerol and not going anywhere.”
Rowan set a cup of coffee on the table for me then spoke to Doc. “Is she allowed to eat dinner?”
“I’m right fuc’n here,” I muttered.
“Sure, dinner is a good idea,” he replied. “I want Conway to rest first.”
“I’m fine, Doc.” I downed the coffee and held the empty cup out to Rowan. “See, I drank coffee and kept it down and everything.”
“You’re smashed, Conway. Rest first, dinner later.”
There was an element of guilt crawling around about having the night off. Sam and Lee were perfectly capable of finishing the interview and even thinking about Bauer made my head throb more than it did already. Vitriol rose as the image of the kid filled my mind. I did need a break. I could go back down there and push myself until my head exploded, or be sensible and take the offered break.
“Dinner it is then.”
I watched Rowan walk over to the small kitchenette where the coffee pot waited. He bent down and carefully picked up small pieces of something. He inspected the contents of his hand.
“You weren’t hearing voices in your head were you?”
My hand touched my ear releasing a large ah-ha moment. “My receiver is gone.”
The voices in my head were my team trying to work.
“I think one of us stood on it,” Rowan said and tipped the broken pieces onto the table.
“Damn.”
Doc looked at my shirt. “You are still wearing the microphone.”
I took it off and held it closer to my mouth while I whispered, “Thanks guys. Feeling okay. Am switching this thing off. I’ll send Doc back to you soon.”
“All right, that’s better. I’m officially off duty.” I smiled at Rowan. “If that were something that was actually possible, I would be anyway.” Someone forgot to tether my mind to my skull. I felt a bit spacey. Okay, a lot spacey.
Doc was close. His eyes missed nothing. “Conway, you need to relax. Chill. Go with the Demerol and stop trying to fight it. Some sleep would help.”
I pulled my legs up under me in the chair and rested my head on the padded arm.
