Authors: Deborah Rogers
The Devil's Wire (25 page)
When Jennifer opens her eyes all she can see is a shard of ice. But when she looks again, it's not ice at all but a tiny window of obscured glass. She shifts her head. She's in a hospital room, in bed, tethered to a drip. There's a trail of charcoal saliva on her pillow.
Taking it slowly, she sits up on her elbows. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalls multiple quick hands upon her, tearing at her clothes, probing her throat, pinching her wrists, pricking her arms, slapping her face. A jug of water sits on the nightstand and she forgoes the plastic tumbler and grabs the jug with both hands and gulps it back until her stomach swells and she's finally rid of the taste of salt and blood.
She braces herself on the mattress and hauls herself to her feet. Her head swoons and for a second there she thinks she might collapse but she doesn't, rocking back and forth on her heels instead, water dripping from her chin, riding the ground until it steadies under her feet.
The machine of her mind shudders to life, beginning with Ethan North out cold on the floor, the knife in her hand, a bicycle in a holly bush. Did she actually stab someone? She has no memory of who exactly but deduces it must have been Lenise, but she can't know for certain because all the facts are out of sequence and jumbled together. She could have stabbed Ethan North or even McKenzie.
That awful thought seizes her and she's suddenly desperate to find McKenzie. Clutching the spine of the IV stand, she shuffles towards the door, getting only as far as the end of the bed before her legs begin to buckle.
"Whoa," says Ethan North, catching her.
She looks up at his face.
"You're alive," she says.
"Of course."
If he's alive, McKenzie might not be, so she pushes him off and keeps moving. "I have to find McKenzie."
"You need to rest."
She bats away his hands and heads for the door and shouts at the empty corridor. "McKenzie!"
But there's no sign of her anywhere.
"Hey," says Ethan. "She's fine. I made her take a break. She's in the cafeteria getting food."
Jennifer looks at him.
"You're lying," she says.
"I'm not. God's honest."
She calms down. "I thought I'd lost her," she says.
"The opposite's true – you saved her. You saved me too, for that matter. Now get back into bed."
And she does, slowly.
"Is Lenise dead?" she says.
He pauses. "A few inches to her left and she would have been toast. She has a perforated lung but she's going to be alright."
"It all happened so fast," she says.
"You did the right thing."
"It was an accident, what she did to Hank. She was trying to help me," says Jennifer.
"I know."
Outside two birds fight on the ledge and it's dawning on her, the fact that the secret is finally out and now there are consequences to face.
She looks at him. "So you know the truth."
He nods. "Yes."
"And I'm a bad person, for lying, for trying to cover things up."
"You got in over your head," he says, frown deepening.
"Will I go to jail?"
And he licks his lips and looks at his feet and she thinks it must be bad news.
"They're going to offer you a plea deal, accessory after that fact, improper disposal of a body, three years suspended sentence. You'll be on probation which means you'll need to report."
"I'm not going to jail?"
"Not if you take the deal, "he says.
"What about Lenise?"
"They try her here or send her back to South Africa – they haven't decided," he says.
Outside one of the birds gives up and flies away.
"I know it sounds strange, but she's probably the best friend I ever had."
The door opens. It's McKenzie, that hair so savagely cut returning thicker and darker than before. Ethan excuses himself and leaves them to talk.
"How are you doing, hon?"
"They put a tube down your throat," says McKenzie, hovering in the doorway.
Jennifer pats the space beside her. "Why don't you come sit."
McKenzie positions herself at the end of the bed.
"I thought you were going to die," says McKenzie.
"That was some night."
"Yeah."
"You must have questions," says Jennifer.
"I bought you something from the hospital gift shop."
McKenzie digs inside her bag and takes out an object. At first Jennifer thinks it's one of those Christmas snow globes, but when she looks closer instead of Santa there's a tiny island girl in a grass skirt and a purple lei holding a sign that says Hawaii. McKenzie shakes it and the girl's hips sway and glitter sand cascades around her.
"They didn't have one for Florida," says McKenzie.
"I love it," says Jennifer.
McKenzie shakes the globe again and the sand flutters and the island girl dances.
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Deborah Rogers is a fan of all good suspense, mystery and true crime books. She has a Graduate Diploma in Scriptwriting, and graduated cum laude from the Hagley Writers' Institute. When she's not writing American psychological thrillers, she likes to take her chocolate Labrador for walks on the beach and make decadent desserts.
ISBN 978-0-473-33864-0
TITLE: The Devil's Wire
First worldwide publication 2015
Copyright © 2015 Deborah Rogers
All rights reserved in all media. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The moral right of Deborah Rogers as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is entirely coincidental.
Published by Lawson Publishing (NZ).