The Fallen Angels Book Club (30 page)

“Hollis, Hollis, wake up. I'm here with the paramedics.”

The voice was familiar and strange at the same time. The words echoed in my ears.

I slowly turned my head. Two paramedics busily strapped me to a stretcher.

“What's going on? Is this a suicide attempt? What did she take? What's her name?” A young man in uniform came into view. I couldn't answer.

Mark stood aside. “Her name is Hollis Morgan. She didn't commit suicide.”

“You saved her life. Hollis, can you hear me? What did you take? Was it pills?”

“C-cold.” My voice came out as a whisper.

“You're cold? Here's a blanket. What did he give you?”

I squinted, but my eyes failed me. “M-Mark?”

“Hollis, I'm sorry it took so long to find you, but I didn't know where you were. For a while I could hear you and Avery talking, but no one at the firm knew you were here.”

I felt painful pressure on my forearms. The pain helped me to gather my wits. I must have groaned.

“Sorry. Sorry. They told me to keep the tubing up. Finally, I called nine-one-one and they triangulated the signal from your cellphone. Hollis? Stay with me, Hollis.”

It took all the focus I could gather. “C-cold. Not … cide.”

“She's delirious and we're going to give her something to knock her out. She's slipping back into shock.”

I looked up pleadingly at Mark. “Av-ry. Not su-cide. C-choline.” I winced in pain as I was lifted into the ambulance.

“I understand. You didn't try to kill yourself.” Mark looked at me with a worried expression. “Hollis, it's going to be okay. Don't worry. I saw the letter ‘A' you wrote in the dust. He won't get away. We'll find Avery.”

S
ound was muffled as if I were under a blanket. I turned my head toward the only source of light. It came from under a door. I tried to speak but my lips were parched. I had no saliva to wet them. Squinting, I tried to make out where I was. A hospital. The back of my hand ached with the long tubing running into a large plastic bag of clear liquid. My chest was connected to another tube of pale yellow fluid and I couldn't tell if it was running in or out. I shifted slightly and the pain that shot from my lungs immediately brought tears to my eyes.

The door opened. A young woman entered.

“Hello, there. I'm Nurse Kelly.” She deftly checked the screen on a black box at the side of my bed. “Glad to see you're finally awake.”

“Wh—?”

“You're in St. Matthews Hospital. You've had a tough time. Luckily, the poison didn't reach your lungs. Even so, you had enough everywhere else that we went ahead and pumped you clean.”

She carefully changed the fluid bags, but the slight shifting of the tubes made me cry out.

“I'm so sorry. I know you're in pain. As soon as the doctor gets here, she'll prescribe something for you.”

“Wata.”

“Water?” She looked down at the chart at the foot of my bed. “I think we should wait until the doctor comes. She should be here any minute. How about I wet a towel and dampen your lips?”

I closed my eyes. The moisture from the towel was welcome but sorely inadequate. Mercifully, the doctor came in just as Nurse Kelly finished organizing the blankets.

“I'm Doctor Garson.”

I squinted again. Although the voice was deep and gravelly, it belonged to a petite blonde who looked to be in her fifties.

I licked my lips and tried to speak.

“No, don't bother. I know you're uncomfortable. We're going to fix that right now.” She gave directions to the nurse for pain medication and to remove my IV. “We'll also give you some water. Not a lot at first, but four ounces at intervals to start. Then, by this evening, you'll be feeling better and can go on a bland diet.” She poured water into a paper cup and brought it to my mouth.

It wasn't cold, but it was wet. I slowly sipped and swallowed.

“Thank you.” I laid my head, which felt like a bowling ball, back down on the pillow. “What's wrong with me?”

Dr. Garson read my chart. “I have good news, and promising news.”

“Promising news, first.” My words still came out scratchy and slow, but at least they came.

She grinned. “Ah, a pessimist at heart? We won't know for several days exactly how much damage was done to your respiratory system, but the fact that you and I are talking is a very good sign.”

“What happened?”

She sat on edge of my bed. “You were in pretty bad shape. The drug you took was what we call a cocktail mixture. The razor cuts on your wrists were deep, but I've seen a lot worse.”

My gaze went to the tubing into my arm.

She followed my eyes. “We'll remove that soon.”

“I didn't take it on my own. There was—”

She patted my arm. “We know. You were given an exotic poison that strikes the nervous system but hides out in your circulatory system until it's too late, because all medical eyes are on your brain waves. You were lucky you got in here when you did with the information we needed to find the antidote.”

I frowned, trying to remember how I got there. Only vague images appeared in my memory bank. No single one emerged as a winner.

“How did I get here?”

“The paramedics got a call from a man.” She looked down at my chart. “A Mark Haddan. He's been here every day. Haddan usually shows up right after lunch. In fact, I think he was coming out of the elevator when I came to see you.”

“Every day? How long have I been here?”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “You came in on Thursday. Today is Sunday.”

“Sunday.”

“I know it's scary to lose track of time. Be glad you weren't conscious. You wouldn't have been very comfortable.” Doctor Garson hesitated. “Ms. Morgan, the police have been here, too. I was told to call them once you regained consciousness.”

The word “police” acted as an instant haze remover. A light came on in my head like a curtain lifting. I remembered everything up until my arrival at the hospital. “How long do I have to stay here?”

“Oh, you're past the worst of it. I think one, maybe two more days of monitoring your vitals should be enough. Is there someone at home who can be with you?”

“No, I live alone.”

“Then it will be at least two days for sure.” Garson patted me one more time and, after promising to see me the next afternoon, left me in the reliable hands of Nurse Kelly.

I fell in and out of sleep. The hospital nurses' comings and goings kept me in a mild world of wooziness. The next morning, after breakfast, my nurse checked my temperature.

“Are you ready for visitors? They've been waiting.”

“Yes, who—”

Marla pushed past the nurse with Lily holding on tight to the rail of her walker.

“Hi, sweetie, we couldn't wait to see you. Lily and I have a taxi waiting so we can't stay long. He's Opal's nephew's friend; she got him to bring us here. I don't want to abuse his patience.”

Lily came along the other side of the bed and squeezed my hand. Her eyes were teary.

There had never been two faces I was more pleased to see.

“Thank you both for coming to visit me. I'll be back to see you soon.” I returned the squeeze of Lily's hand.

Lily licked her lips. “I'm holding all my mail for you to open.”

I nodded with understanding.

“Let's go, Lily.” Marla patted me on the shoulder. She couldn't hide the tears brimming in her eyes. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and gave me a forced smile. “Oh, and don't forget the doughnuts.”

I laughed. “I won't.”

They walked out, leaning on each other.

I picked up a book I'd left lying open on my tray.

Mark entered with a rush of air, followed by Rena carrying a coleus plant in a colorful ceramic pot.

“How are you? Are you going to be okay?” He started to give me a kiss on the forehead and then backed off, as if remembering we didn't have that kind of relationship.

“It's all right, Mark. Actually, I could use a friendly kiss about now.” I smiled. He leaned over awkwardly and gave me a modest peck. “Rena, it was so considerate of you to come and see me. Thank you for the plant.”

Rena nodded sheepishly and went about moving things around to make space on the little tray table by the bed. “Mark and I have been really worried about you. What does your doctor say?”

I recounted the doctor's evaluation.

“A drug,” Mark said. “Is that like any of your books?”

I looked at him appreciatively. “It was a novel we were getting ready to read. We hadn't read about any murders by drugs lately. He just wanted me incapacitated so he could do my wrists. Besides, I don't think Avery had much time to plan. He made it up as he went along.”

Mark shook his head. “Avery. I just can't believe it.”

I closed my eyes then opened them.

Mark gave me a penetrating look.

Could he see my other pain … the pain of being betrayed by Avery?

I shifted to find a more comfortable position, but I only succeeded in pulling on the needle that ran to the back of my hand. I winced. “I'm starting to get tired. I think I need to catch a little sleep.” I smiled. “Thank you both for visiting. I won't forget it.”

“Of course you're tired,” Rena said. “This is your first full day awake. We'll check on you later.”

“Mark, wait,” I called.

Rena waved and walked out. Mark stood next to my bed. “Yes?”

I took his hand. “Thank you for saving my life.” I ignored his obvious discomfort. “I don't remember much, but I do remember you finding me. Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.” His eyes took on an impish glint. “When you're back on your feet, maybe you could help me with a research project my new firm gave me.”

“Forget about it.” I smiled. “No, I'm teasing. Congratulations.” We both laughed until I started to cough. He gave me a tentative hug and a wave goodbye.

I didn't say anything about the tears I felt, or the tears I saw.

I relished the silence. I needed some time alone to rewire my psyche. Avery was gone and I was alive. It was over. I'd be able to go on with my life. The only surprise was how much I had cared for my intended killer. He was, after all, the one who had given me my second chance.

I didn't realize I had dozed off again until Nurse Kelly came in to take my temperature. “How are you feeling? You hardly ate anything earlier.”

“Not real hungry yet, but I think I'm going to live.”

“Of course you are. Are you up to a visit from the police? They're outside.”

“Do I have a choice?”

She just smiled. I looked down at my gown to make sure all would not be revealed. I was no longer attached to the metal guardian holding my tubes off to the side of my bed.

“Ms. Morgan, that was a close call.” Detective Faber strode in with Detective Lincoln not far behind. Their combined bulk filled my little visiting space.

“Detectives. A bit too close, but they tell me I'll soon be good as new.”

Lincoln sat under the TV mounted on the wall. “We have an APB out on Mitchell. We searched his home and found evidence pointing to another condo he has in the Maldives. We're pretty sure he's on his way there. The State Department is on the lookout for him.”

I shifted in the bed to try and sit up. “It's a townhome. It's somewhere near the capital.”

Detective Faber nodded. “We know.”

“What's the capital of the Maldives?” Detective Lincoln took notes.

“Malé. Before you ask, no, I've never been there. Once, I heard him making reservations at one of the resorts.”

Detective Faber gave me a worried smile.

“They should have no trouble finding him. It's a small island.”

“The trouble won't be in finding him. The sticky point is the U.S. and the Maldives don't have an automatic extradition agreement. It may take some time to get him back.”

Avery would have counted on that.

“Ms. Morgan, can you tell us exactly what happened from the time you left your office until you woke up here?”

And so I told them my story. It already seemed like I was speaking about an event that had happened weeks ago, rather than a few days. Both detectives took notes.

“I vaguely remember Mark talking to me, but I really didn't realize what had happened until I woke up yesterday morning.”

“He saved your life.”

Detective Lincoln walked over to the window. “Let me see if I have this straight. Avery Mitchell was being blackmailed by his partner in crime, Rory Norris. He got tired of paying and killed him. Mitchell thought Abby Caldwell could identify him, so he killed her, too. Finally, when he thought you'd put all the pieces together, he had to get rid of you.”