Skeletons Among Us: Legends of Treasure Book 2

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Skeletons Among Us: Legends of Treasure Book 2 Page 19

by Lois D. Brown


  Her promise not to touch Rod wouldn’t be hard to keep. It was as if a tornado had ravaged him from the inside out. His coloring was all wrong. The skin around his neck and collar bone hung loosely. Dry, parched lips contrasted with his inflamed cheeks and eye sockets. To top it all off, he wore the ugliest green hospital gown ever created. It had fresh wet stains on the front down his chest. Couldn’t be puke. He hadn’t eaten in forever. Or had it only been a few days? It was horrific to see what the human body could be reduced to in so little time.

  Who had done this to him?

  Today he had significantly more tubing running in and out of appendages. An additional monitor was by the head of his bed. On one of the IV bags was printed the name of the medicine they were giving him. Maria texted the name to Ms. Tuttle with a rundown of all his other symptoms.

  Maria felt desperate. Helpless. So frustrated.

  But those feelings were not helping the situation. They only succeeded in putting extra negativity into the room, as if Rod needed any more of that.

  What would Dr. Roberts do if he were here?

  The answer was simple. He’d tell her the best way to change her feelings was to change her thoughts.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. She had five minutes left to turn the yucky feeling in this room around. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the guard in the corner of the room, she untucked the sheets from around Rod’s feet. He actually had quite good-looking toes. Manly, but not too big or pudgy. His nails were well trimmed and white. In fact, at this particular moment in time, Rod’s big toe was probably his most attractive feature. It seemed to be the least affected by whatever was eating away at the rest of his body.

  Maria wrapped her fingers around the toe and determinedly held on, forcing herself to remember happier times.

  A picnic two weeks ago on the top of one of Kanab’s picturesque red bluffs flooded her mind. After the meal, Rod had pulled out a car magazine for him and a gun magazine for her. They’d spent their lunch hour plus some on the plateau, looking down on the city and talking about what they would buy if they had an extra ten thousand to spend on anything they’d wanted.

  It’d been spontaneous. Relaxed. So Rod-like. And the kissing hadn’t been bad either.

  Warmth rushed through Maria as she remembered the way Rod had scooted closer, prying the gun magazine out of her hands so he could nuzzle her cheek. She’d pretended not to like it, pushing him away, asking him why he was always so touchy.

  Undeterred, Rod had defiantly looked her in the eyes and said, “Just try and tell me you don’t like this.”

  Then he’d gently slid his arm around her back, pulled her slowly to him, and carefully, expertly, pressed his lips against her skin, right below the jaw bone in the hollow of her neck. The sensation had set her insides ablaze and she’d gasped.

  It would have been impossible not to have made some sort of sound.

  No one was that good of an actress.

  Of course, afterward she’d refused to admit to anything. But Rod must have known. Right? He must have known she liked it. That she liked him. That she found him to be the most attractive man she’d ever been with. That she looked forward to his touch. That she devoured the time with him. That her heart sped up at the mere sight of him.

  But, no, she hadn’t said one word. Just the gasp. She’d kept it a secret because …

  Why exactly?

  It all seemed so stupid now. So immature. Such a waste of precious time together.

  Dr. Roberts had told her to get over herself. He’d said her fear of intimacy wasn’t about the other person. It was about fear of herself, of losing control.

  He’d been right at the time, but not anymore. She was through putting up walls to maintain control. She was ready to take the risk. To make herself vulnerable.

  Maria opened her eyes, not realizing she’d shut them. Everything was the same.

  Except her.

  Keeping hold of his toe, Maria looked at Rod’s swollen face, so puffy his eyes couldn’t have opened if he’d tried. How she wished she’d told him how she felt when he could have actually heard her. But it didn’t matter. It was never too late for what she planned on saying. Security guard in the room or not.

  “Rod?”

  No answer, of course.

  “Rod, I’m sorry I pushed you away before. I was just scared. But Rod, please, you have to get better. I need you to get better. You mean everything to me. Absolutely everything.”

  Her body tensed, waiting for the sky to fall.

  But it didn’t.

  The earth continued turning on its axis. The heart monitor in the corner of the room kept beeping. And the security guard actually burped. Barely audible, but definitely a burp.

  However, Maria …

  Maria was different.

  ***

  Seconds later a nurse walked into Rod’s room dressed in gloves, a mask, the whole nine yards. “Everyone out. You’ll be escorted to a room down the hall where your name and information will be taken and you’ll be put on medical watch. Everything in here goes into the garbage.” With that, she picked up the only thing that was actually Rod’s and threw it into the trash can.

  It was the gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of personal toiletries that Brian had taken to Rod the first day he’d spent in jail. In it was his toothbrush, high-end deodorant, contact case and the blue and white plastic bottle of contact solution it had taken Rod forever to find during their trip to Walmart.

  That was another good memory. They seemed to be coming in tidal waves now. Every experience the two of them had managed to fit into the last several months. Maria had enjoyed the trip to Walmart because it had felt like something an old married couple would do. Two people who felt so comfortable together they could discuss their most personal information, like what kind of make-up remover she preferred and what brand of contact solution Rod insisted on buying—

  A tingle at the back of Maria’s neck. Slow at first then growing exponentially.

  “This poor fellow looks miserable. I hate to move him, but they want him transferred to the ICU at Phoenix General.” The nurse was taping more of Rod’s IV tube to his arm, getting him ready to transport. “Can you two find your way out and to room 307?”

  Maria waited for the guard in the corner to be the first one out. He walked past Rod and in front of Maria, pulling open the door and holding it for her.

  By now, the skin on Maria’s neck might as well have been on fire. What was her subconscious trying to tell her?

  She breathed in deeply, looking around the room one more time to see what was amiss and then walked to the door, passing the garbage can as she went. She looked into it and the burning on her neck stopped.

  The bottle of contact solution.

  Maria knew.

  Rod had purchased a green and white bottle of contact solution that day in Walmart. Why then, had Brian taken a blue and white one to Rod in jail? Everything else in the Ziploc bag was Rod’s. It was the same toothbrush he’d brought with him. The same deodorant he used. But not the same contact solution.

  There was a reason. There had to be.

  Maria looked back at Rod’s distorted, misshapen face. What was in that solution? A bacteria of some sort? One that could infect someone though open eye ducts, perhaps?

  It was direct method of infection, not invasive, and it wouldn’t harm anyone else but Rod.

  And Brian was the one who gave the contact solution to him.

  Maria had to get the bottle. But trying to go through the proper channels would take forever, and she didn’t have that kind of time. Well, technically she had plenty of time. But Rod didn’t. And that’s what mattered.

  The good thing about her imprisonment in Tehran is that it gave Maria easy access to all sorts of vile sensations and emotions. All she ever had to do to make herself throw up was remember those nights after a thorough beating when she’d fall asleep in her own vomit. The mere memory of that smell could make her puke.

/>   Anytime.

  Anywhere.

  “Oh no!” Maria turned to the garbage can, picked it up, and retched.

  “Go grab some paper towels, could you?” shouted the nurse to the security guard.

  The guard darted back into the room and pulled some brown paper squares from the metal dispenser by the sink.

  Hanging on to the garbage can for dear life, Maria apologized again and again. “I’m so sorry. Don’t know what happened. Could I go to a bathroom somewhere?”

  She was led by the guard, still holding a stack of towels in his hand, down the hallway to the visitor’s bathroom. With her hand that wasn’t holding onto the garbage can, she took the towels from the guard as he held the door for her to go inside the restroom.

  “Thanks.”

  Once inside, Maria locked the door, turned on the water, and gingerly fished around inside the garbage can until she caught the corner of the Ziploc bag underneath her half-digested breakfast.

  First things first, she rinsed the bag in the running sink water until it was clean. Next, she opened it up and carefully dumped everything out but the contact solution, leaving it inside. She squished the extra air out of the bag and sealed it back up. Next, using the paper towels the guard had retrieved, she wrapped several layers around the bag and shoved it into her backpack.

  After rinsing out her mouth, Maria popped in a piece of gum and splashed her face with water. She was as good as before the whole episode.

  Even better, in fact. She had a clue. Her first real one. It was the break in the case for which she’d been searching. Now she needed to find a lab that would analyze the solution.

  Rod, hang on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Hundreds of troopers began using the [granite] slab as a target. In half an hour, the commanding officer ordered a cease-fire… Of all the braves, squaws, and children within, only a few escaped the fusillade. The dead were in heaps and rows. This battle, or rather slaughter, became known as the “Battle of Skull Cave.”

  —“Fool’s Gold,” by Robert Sikorsky, Golden West Publishers, 1983, page 49.

  “YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY SURE ABOUT that?” Over the phone, Maria grilled Rep. Lankin for the third time about the legal documents Brian had brought with him to the dinner the night before.

  “Yes, I’m absolutely positive,” answered Rep. Lankin. “I had my secretary scan it and send them to my lawyer. My lawyer said everything was accounted for and up to standards. No weird clauses, nothing out of order. I even read Rod’s will twice myself, and it’s exactly as Brian said yesterday. Whatever didn’t get donated to the charities on the list went to Dakota first and to Rod’s parents next. Cut and dried.”

  The contact solution was on the floor in the passenger seat of Beth’s car, braced so it wouldn’t roll around. As she talked with Rep. Lankin, Maria drove to a private, independent laboratory that did government contract work. It had cost Maria a small fortune to have them agree to do a rush analysis of the solution. She’d maxed out four credit cards for the fifty percent down payment.

  “I didn’t know any legal documents were ever cut and dried,” said Maria, hoping to push the representative into being more thorough in reviewing the documents.

  “Well, this one is,” insisted Rep. Lankin. “For so much money involved, it’s rather basic. Tell me, why are you so interested in Rod’s will this morning? What have you learned that the rest of us don’t know?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just got a feeling.” Maria had been so certain there’d be some clue in the legal documents.

  “While I am convinced you are a very intuitive person,” said Rep. Lankin, “I get the feeling you’re keeping something back. Of course, it does make it harder to tell when I can’t actually see you when I talk to you.”

  “No, nothing like that. I woke up with Rod’s will on my mind.” Maria considered the best method of getting him off the phone as quickly as possible. Something he said a few minutes earlier popped back into her mind. “Hey, you said Rod had a list of charities as benefactors?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you send me that list? I’d like to look it over. I don’t suppose the Keepers was on it?”

  Rep. Lankin laughed. “No, I would have noticed if Rod was giving his money to the Keepers. That would have been a red flag. And yes, I can send you the list. I’ll get my secretary on it.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Maria hoped something on the list might point back to Brian—some fake charity or non-profit.

  “Good luck, Maria. Even though I don’t think anyone in the group is guilty, I’m still glad you’re on Rod’s team. I know I’d want you in my court if tables were turned. We’re all rooting for him, you know.”

  “Thanks. I’ll talk with you soon.” Maria hung up. The GPS showed she still had almost thirty minutes until she would reached the lab to drop off the contact solution.

  Deep breaths, she told herself. She was making progress. The tingle in the back of her neck told her so.

  ***

  With the contact solution safely being analyzed at the lab, Maria was on her way back to Brian’s mansion. She hoped nobody would be home so she could take her time snooping around the place. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but it seemed the next logical place to go. Maybe a letter? Some old cell phone with incriminating texts? Her working theory was that Brian had fabricated a fake charity and was banking on getting some money from it when Rod died.

  But why now? And why frame Rod for Dakota’s death?

  And, Maria asked herself, what about the woman with Dakota in the Superstitions? While it was impossible to identify her by her face, she clearly wasn’t Brian. He was at least a foot taller than the mystery woman in the photo. But perhaps he was working with someone?

  Maria used the keyless deadbolt code Amy had given her and Beth to the back door so they could come and go as they pleased. Maria entered the spotless utility room, and her heart sank. What did she really think she was going to find in the house? It was the cleanest most “unlived in” house she’d ever seen.

  Listening for Amy as she walked quietly through the kitchen, she was disappointed to see her in front of the computer in the office. That was the one room of the house that may have actually held some of Brian’s secrets.

  “Hi,” said Amy, waving to her from behind the oversized monitor. “You’re back early. I thought you said you’d be gone all day.”

  “I did. The visit to see Rod didn’t go so well. He’s being transferred to the ICU at Phoenix General.” Maria bit her lip as emotions welled up inside her chest.

  “Oh dear.” Amy stood up, abandoning her work to come to Maria and give her a nice, warm hug. “I was hoping he’d be doing better. What’s going on?”

  “They think it’s an infection. High fever. Delirium. But the antibiotics don’t seem to be working.” Repeating Rod’s deteriorating condition out loud was like stepping outdoors after a torrential rain. Muggy and heavy. The weight of the situation pulled at her—heart, mind, and soul.

  “So what’s the plan? Are they starting him on some new medicine?”

  “I’m not sure. To be honest, they’re not sure either.” Maria set her backpack down. “Is it okay if I get a drink of water?”

  “Sure.” Amy pointed to the pantry. “Grab a bottle from in there.”

  “Tap water’s fine. I don’t have the distinguished tastes Brian has.” Maria pulled a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it at the sink. “Speaking of Brian, is he at home today?”

  “At home?” Amy laughed. “No, I haven’t seen him since yesterday. He doesn’t spend much time here. Why?”

  Maria took a big drink of water. “Rep. Lankin asked me to pick up some legal documents Brian worked on for Rod. Maybe they’re in the office? Mind if I poke around?”

  Amy went into the pantry and pulled out a Dasani—a lower class brand of water for this household. “You won’t find any of Brian’s legal documents in there. He keeps all of that stuff in
his office at work so his office staff can keep track of it. Most of the office stuff is mine; I’ve been keeping myself busy by teaching some online psychology courses. You know, since I can’t practice. That’s what happens when you have an affair with a client.”

  Maria felt a stab of pity for the woman. She’d made a bad choice, ruined her career, all for what? A cheating husband.

  “Please don’t look at me that way,” sighed Amy.

  “Like what?” asked Maria.

  “Like you feel sorry for me. I made my own choices. I’m a big girl. I can handle them.”

  Slightly embarrassed, Maria dropped her eyes for a moment. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

  “No harm, but I wish people didn’t do that. Nobody understands why I made the decision I did, and I don’t want to explain it. But I’m not an idiot. Trust me.”

  “Fair enough.” Maria offered an understanding smile. “I know how it feels to be judged and felt sorry for. Not fun.”

  Each of them took a big drink of water and seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Well,” said Maria, putting down her cup, “if the documents aren’t here I might as well not bother you. I’ll run up to Rod’s room for a minute and then head out again.”

  “I’ll come with. I need to take a break. And, to be honest, I enjoy the company.”

  The two walked up the stairs to the guest bedrooms side by side. Was it Maria’s imagination or did Amy seem to be keeping a close eye on her today?

  “What do you need in Rod’s room?” asked Amy.

  “I … I thought I’d take a look for his … wallet. The hospital needs … his insurance card?” Not Maria’s best lie.

  “Oh, didn’t Brian take that to him already?”

  “Not sure. The nurse at the mental health facility said she didn’t think so.” Again, super lame.

  “No, I’m pretty sure it was in the bag I put together for Brian to take to Rod at the jail.”

  Maria stopped and stared at Amy.

  Of course! Brian, Mr. Playboy himself, would have never thought to put together Rod’s toiletries. He wouldn’t ever be that conscientious of others’ needs.

 

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