A Dead Sister (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) (38 page)

“Give no trouble, get no trouble, Jessica, and neither does the lovely Kim.” He ran his hand over the young woman’s face. She did nothing, even though her eyes blazed for a moment. “Kim knows full well what kind of trouble I can give you, and please don’t push the doc too far. He really has been on his best behavior.”

Jessica tried to think of something to do. She had not yet replaced the used-up pepper spray can. A quick survey of the room revealed nothing she could use to defend herself. Not that she had much of a chance against the two of them. Even though she had seen no other weapon than the glint of that hypodermic needle, she imagined they were armed. Perhaps both carried guns under the suit jackets they wore in the triple-digit, mid-July heat. In the end, she did as she was told. The doc had moved so swiftly when administering the substance in that needle to Amy, it would take him no time at all to carry out his threat against the young woman at his side.

Leaving the last vestiges of comfort behind, Jessica exited her office and stepped out into the sweltering
late afternoon heat. She did not bother to lock the door behind her. She hoped, in fact, someone would walk in and find Amy Klein.

“Where are you
, Peter?” she wondered. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes away if he had called from his office. She and her party passed through the small courtyard along the walkway that led behind the building. Mr. P sauntered to his sedan in the parking lot and climbed in behind the wheel.

“Please, Max, be a gentleman and open the door for our charming companions while I get the air conditioning going. We want them to be comfortable.”

The doc opened the door and held it, motioning Jessica to get in. She took one last look around. The sun shone abundantly in a cloudless blue sky. The palms swayed. Jessica spied no brawny security consultant, no swat team, disgruntled detectives, or handsome police officers on bicycles.

As she bent to avoid bumping her head on the door jamb, she felt a sudden stinging sensation on the back of her arm. “Bee sting,” she thought as she reached to brush it off. The last thing she remembered
, before blacking out, was the snaggle-toothed doctor bending close. His fetid breath was on her cheek as he shoved her into that back seat. Kim had already climbed in next to her without making a sound.

CHAPTER 35

Jessica dreamed of fire. Flames danced around her as she tried to rouse herself to escape. At one point, she almost succeeded in waking up. She even sat
up for a moment, and took in the room around her. Sweat was pouring off of her but she saw no flames, no smoke, no heat, just the cool comfort of sheets. She was in bed, “just dreaming,” she thought, as she slid back beneath the sheets and drifted off to sleep again.

“Jessica, Jessica Huntington, wake up. You have got to wake up, now.” A gentle shaking became more insistent as the voice pierced Jessica’s stupor. Jessica tried to do as she was told, but her head was pounding. She wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep so the pain would stop. That voice roused her again. She opened her eyes and lifted her head to take a few sips of water from a glass offered to her. The water moistened her parched mouth and throat, but Jes
sica’s stomach revolted. She threw up the sips she had swallowed. With that, the young woman standing over her simply hurled the remaining water from the glass into Jessica’s face.

“What? What’s going on? Who are...?” Jessica finally recognized the young woman standing in front of her. It was zombie girl, less zombie-like now, even though she was dressed entirely in black. In a simple black knit top worn over black leggings, she almost appeared to be a normal girl her age. She was way more disheveled than when Jessica had last seen her. Her hair was in disarray, her makeup all but gone.

Jessica tried to make sense of her situation. She was in what looked like a hotel room, but where? How did she get there? A funny taste lingered in her mouth and a funny smell hung in the air. Then she remembered: those bastards in her office, the walk to the sedan, a pinprick, and then nothing, well almost nothing.

The tumult in her stomach began again as she remembered the way
he
had smelled. It wasn’t just that moment in the car. In the night he had come into her room and sat on the bed beside her. He had leaned over and said something to her before lifting her head and giving her a spoonful of orange-flavored syrup. The flavor did not entirely mask the odor or hide a bitter taste. That’s where she had heard it—from him: “chloral hydrate, Kim. She’ll sleep through the night.” Standing behind him was zombie girl, expressionless as usual. She had asked him what was on that spoon.

Jessica’s eyes widened as she spoke to the girl, struggling to recall her real name. “You, you were with him. Why did you let him do that? What did he give me?” Jessica’s eyes darted around the room.

“Yes, I was with him. Where would I go? I told you they’d come after me, and you too. They threatened to kill you if I tried to leave. Why didn’t you get away? You could have made a run for it a couple times as we were leaving your office. You didn’t because he had that needle pointed at me.”

As she spoke, she walked a short distance and refilled the glass with water. “I didn’t
let
him do anything, Ms. Huntington. To answer your other question, mostly he’s been giving you chloral hydrate, after that first round of fentanyl Sunday afternoon. I won’t swear that he hasn’t slipped us both a little something else. Max has kept me pretty dopey, too.”

“Sunday afternoon? What’s today?”

“It’s Tuesday, Ms. Huntington. We’re at a motel in Indio. We’ve been here since Sunday. Chris and the Doc had plans, but they hit a few snags along the way.”

“Cabo,” was the only word Jessica could manage to make her voice utter.

“That’s right. They had Chris’s plane waiting at the municipal airport, Jackie Cochran. We were all on our way to catch that plane when a crew member called. He tipped them off that the plane was grounded and the authorities were waiting. You and your friends
have
been busy, Ms. Huntington. That crew member said they were watching the border, too, and looking for the Mercedes we were in.”

As she spoke, she did what she could to continue to bring Jessica around. She sat her up on the side of the bed, then handed her another glass of water. “Sip it slowly,” she ordered. While Jessica sipped the water, Kim continued her story, at the same time digging around beneath the bed to find Jessica’s shoes. “The doc took our cell
phones and yanked the batteries and then we checked in here. He called somebody to come and get Mr. P’s car. Paid some jackass to drive it off a cliff or torch it out in the desert somewhere, I guess. Maybe he had it taken to a chop shop, and it’s in about a thousand pieces by now. Who knows?”

She looked up into Jessica’s face, as she wiggled shoes onto her feet. “I don’t suppose you remember any of this. You were really out of it. The doc had to haul you up the back stairs to get you in here. I thought maybe you had overdosed. Chris said that was fine with him. He was furious, blamed you for all of this, and wanted to kill you right then and there. Max talked him out of it, suggesting you might make a good hostage if it came to that. He didn’t say what ‘that’ was, but Chris bought it, and it’s kept you alive.” Kim stood up, went back into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth and a dry towel.

“Clean yourself up, Ms. Huntington,” she demanded, handing both to Jessica as she picked up where she left off.

“No,” Jessica said, shaking her head.

“What?” Kim asked.

“No more Ms. Huntington. I just threw up on you. You can call me Jessica.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged, then, went on with her story as Jessica used the cool cloth to clean up. The cobwebs hanging out in the corners of her mind refused to go away. She concentrated on Kim’s voice, hoping it would help focus her mind.

“Chris had a major meltdown Sunday when he realized his grand plan was falling apart. The world-renowned Mr. P was sure the desk clerk would recognize him so Max went in instead. Can you believe that? The doc is not exactly a ‘low profile’ kind of guy, you know what I mean? Anyway, after we checked in, the doc left us alone while he got rid of the Mercedes. The longer Max was gone the crazier Chis became. He started drinking scotch he pulled from his suitcase. He was guzzling, straight out of the bottle, ranting mor
e, the drunker he got. The son-of-a-bitch called you and me, and even the doc, every name in the book. At one point he was waving this stupid little gold gun around. I thought he might actually kill us or himself. Then he just laid the gun down and went in the bathroom to take a leak. I grabbed the gun, but the damn thing wasn’t even loaded!”

She took the towel and washcloth from Jessica and tossed them both onto the floor in the bathroom, then stood there a second recalling that first day at the motel. “When he came back out of the bathroom, he had gone from raging monster to scared, sniveling rabbit. He was running around the room, raving that ‘they’re on to us,’ and that ‘we have to g
et out of here, Kim, Max or no Max.’ The doc had been gone a couple hours so he was sure they got him and we were next. I played along, saying maybe he was right and we should get away while we could. Chris was about to use the phone here in the room to call a cab when Max turned up, with food. Whoever took the car off his hands must have stopped at a drive through, then, dropped Max back here at the motel before he left. Can you believe that? Like two guys out on an ordinary weekend outing, running errands.” She looked at Jessica and shook her head.

“Chris went off the deep end again. This time he cussed out the doc to his face. I never saw him do that before. I wasn’t sure what Max would do but he stayed calm. He explained that they had to wait until the next morning, when someone was bringing them another car, an old beater of some kind. That horrified Chris. Not only that they had to wait, but that he was going to have to ride around in a ‘piece of shit car,’ as he called it. Max spent another ten minutes explaining why they were better off with a more nondescript car, and that they need
ed more than just that car. The doc had to get new ‘paper’ for them before they could go anywhere. You know, fake passports and drivers’ licenses, social security cards, stuff like that? The madness continued for at least a couple more hours. Rants of rage followed by demanding, even pleading with the doc to leave, right then and there. The last time I saw the little shit Sunday night, Jessica, he was sucking his thumb and holding the corner of a sheet like it was a blankie. He was sitting in his bed, rocking back and forth like a lunatic. That’s when Doctor Demento got out his bag of goodies and knocked us all out. I think he gave Chris a hit of whatever he had cooked up earlier for you and that woman you work with. It was a round of chloral hydrate for the girls, you first, then me.”

Leaning over Jessica, she grabbed her by the shoulders, “Stand up and try out your legs. We have to get out of here.”

Jessica did as she was told. Her legs felt like spaghetti, and her head spun as she stood. “Where is he? Where are
they
?”

“Let’s just say Chris is indisposed, out of it, for the time being. The doc’s out running errands. Whoever took the Mercedes gave Max a burner phone, and he’s been on it pretty much nonstop. He was working angles all day yesterday, trying to score a couple passports, and find a way out of the country. That hasn’t put him in a great mood, so I’ve tried to stay invisible. Turns out their contacts are less than trustworthy at the moment, so he’s been scouting new ones, and that’s taken time. Walk, Jessica, do it. We have to move.” She gave Jessica a little push that nearly toppled her. Regaining her balance, Jessica paced around the bed and back.

“When the cops busted Arnold Dunne, they picked up most of their associates in the general vicinity. The ones that haven’t been rounded up have scattered, gone over the border, or underground, like we are. Last night, they were talking about giving up on Mexico, altogether and heading north. Their latest scheme is to cross the border into Canada and head to Cuba from there. I didn’t hear all of it. He knocked us out again.” Kim shrugged her shoulders.

“Here’s the thing, Jessica. When I said Max is out trying to pick up a couple passports, I
mean
a couple, as in
two
. So, maybe they plan to ditch us like the sedan. There are a lot of other options those sick fucks might have in mind for us. Please, keep moving.” She was back in command mode. Jessica did her best to take more steps. Her head was pounding and she felt like she might heave again at any moment, but she was already steadier on her feet.

“I’ve put one more glitch into their plans, for the moment. The doc left me with Chris this morning without giving me one of his magic
knock-out potions. The puny freak was feeling frisky after managing to evade the police for a couple days, so I agreed to play along. Yuck! That scrawny prick will be back in alpha dog mode soon. He’ll start to feel invulnerable, maybe invulnerable enough to end our troublesome lives. In his mind, I’m an ungrateful wretch, and you have done him a great injustice. We both deserve to be punished for our sins against the man forever at the center of his own universe.” She went to the window near the door to the room, pulled back the edge of the curtain and scanned the area around the motel. “You ready?”

“Can I pee first?”

“Oh my God, yes, hurry up, please?”

“Okay,” Jessica replied, on her way to the bathroom.

“I agreed to play one of his favorite sex games this morning, Jessica. As degrading and repulsive as that is, it gave me the opportunity I needed. With Max gone, I shot that bastard full of enough shit, pilfered from the doc’s supply, to knock him out all day. He’s barely breathing, so maybe it’s going to kill him. Serves him right for all he’s done. Your friend had a come-to-Jesus moment at the wrong time, Jessica. They had to pack her off quick, before she could squeal about what went on alongside Mr. P’s legendary legit work. It was just a matter of time for her anyway. She was a favorite, but at nineteen, she was old and used up, like me. I’m no longer awed by the man or the three-ring-circus he runs, freak show and all. You ready?”

“Yes, I’m so cold,” Jessica said, wishing she
had more time to steady her still wobbly mind and body. She was chilled to the bone, and her teeth chattered. A consequence of her physical condition combined with the twisted tale Kim told. Something didn’t smell right.

“Come on, please hurry. I promise you, Max won’t want to leave us alo
ne much longer.” Kim dug around in the bedclothes and came up with the blazer Jessica had worn when she left for her office on Sunday. She tossed the jacket to Jessica, who put it on hoping to ward off the chill.

“That monster doesn’t trust me one bit. He doesn’t think much of Chris at the moment, either. No, he’s going to want to get back here soon to save his own neck. A neck your friend Kelly took a jab at with a steak knife before she died. That’s how she got away. Well, that’s how she got away as far as the parking lot. Chris told me all about
it, the stinking son-of-a-bitch.”

“Do I smell smoke?”

“Yeah, there’s a fire on the ridges above Palm Springs. The roads in and around the valley are crawling with fire fighters and highway patrol. Some roads that lead over the mountains to San Diego are closed, roadblocks set up too. More trouble for our outlaw pals.” Kim was standing behind the curtain, looking out the window again. Jessica caught a peek. The skies over Indio were laden with dark clouds that had drifted east from the South Palm Canyon area where Kim said locals could see the ridges burning. A disconcerting sight, apparently. Not as disconcerting as the sight she glimpsed before they fled their motel room.