A couple wearing matching black business suits hurried past me. They never batted an eyelash. I was glad. I wanted to blend in. This was my sixth trip to the lab on Greene Street. It was easy to arrange my schedule without making Cass suspicious. He wasn’t feeling well lately.
Poor Cass. He’d been sick for the last two weeks. He had all the symptoms of the stomach flu, but the doctor couldn’t seem to prescribe anything to make it go away.
I guess it would help if I stopped feeding him undercooked eggs and maybe it would lessen his bouts of diarrhea if I quit replacing the sugar for his coffee with Sorbitol. Just a few tricks I learned from watching the I.D. channel.
It was working twofold for me. Cass was less watchful of me and there was no hanky panky going on. I knew it couldn’t last forever. I was risking serious medical injury to Cass. I didn’t mind killing him, but I didn’t want to go to jail for it.
I had to find Stewie, and I had to do it soon. I leaned against the brick building across the street from BME, wedged behind a decorative potted tree that blocked any one from seeing me. My old faithful backpack rested on the ground at my feet. It felt good to be here. Not that I wanted to be on the streets again.
It was the freedom I liked. I wasn’t guarded, anticipating a backhand or full in the face slap. I was just me again. A car pulled up to the curb outside the lab. I reached down, grabbed my pack, and slowly settled it over my shoulders. I tamped down the urge to holler out his name when I saw Stewie climb from the back seat of the sedan.
He looked okay, but his shoulders were hunched and I could hear his nervous keening.
Jerks!
I didn’t recognize the short man who was coaxing him into the lobby, but my guess was he was the mystery man with the ten grand.
Once they were inside I looked around, making sure no one saw me, and ran across the street. I knew there was no way Cass could be here. I’d given him an extra whammy this morning, a little Ex-Lax in his chocolate chip muffin. But my stomach was knotted and that sick feeling of trepidation was making itself at home inside my gut.
The same bubble-headed brunette was manning the reception desk. She was totally engrossed in a conversation with the UPS guy, making it almost too easy to slip past her into the stairwell.
I couldn’t risk using the elevator in case Shorty was on his way down. My sneakers squeaked on the painted cement steps as I rushed them two at a time. On the second floor, I cracked open the door enough to make sure no one was nearby before stepping out into the empty hall.
Here is where my plan fell apart. I didn’t know what lay behind the mysterious door number six. Was there a waiting room? Or would I walk right into the room with Stewie, Shorty, and the ignoramus I met the last time?
Only one way to find out.
I moved in slow motion, hardly breathing. The latch clicked when I turned the door knob. It sounded as loud as a herd of elephants. I paused, waiting for God only knew what. But no one came rushing out from the other side. I peeked into the room. It was empty. The room could’ve been a waiting room, but there were no chairs or tables with magazines; there was nothing. Not even a ‘no smoking’ plaque on the wall.
The only other door was to the right. I tiptoed over to it and pressed my ear to the wood. I could hear Stewie’s high pitched mewling.
“Pipe down, kid.” I heard Shorty say. “You do this all the time. You should be used to it by now.”
“It hurts,” Stewie whined.
“I’ll give you two lollipops if you shut off the siren.”
Stewie stopped.
“Alright, here we go,” another voice said. Stewie whimpered.
“Wait a sec, Doc,” Shorty said. There was rustling. “Here you go, kid. Batman always does better than you with the needles.”
This caught me off guard. Shorty was a semi-decent guy. Sure, he was exploiting a handicapped boy, but he was nice about it. Who knew creeps had hearts? I wish I could see into the room. What were they doing to him in there?
I heard Stewie scream. I jumped away from the door like I’d been shocked. I didn’t bother to think it through. I flung the door open. Two men, both looking at me with stunned expressions, stood frozen in place.
The doctor was jabbing Stewie’s thigh with a huge needle while Stewie was tightly strapped to a table. Shorty was leaning over Stewie to keep him still.
“Cherry?” Stewie whimpered.
“Get away from him!” I screamed.
The doctor withdrew the syringe as Shorty unfolded himself and stepped back.
“Cherry, I knew you weren’t dead!” Stewie tried to smile but grimaced.
“You jerks! Undo those straps,” I ordered. They stared at me. “Now!” I shouted.
Shorty’s grin slithered into place. He eyed me head to toe. I knew the look. Pig.
“You’re Cass’s girl,” he said. “Does he know you’re here?”
“I told you to get those straps off him!” I yelled, ignoring his question.
Shorty barked out a laugh. “You’re a little outnumbered, sweetheart.” He took a step toward me.
“Ever been kicked in the groin, Shorty?” I raised a questioning brow. Shorty stopped smiling.
“Cass said you were feisty.” He scowled. “He isn’t going to be happy when he finds out you’re here.” He pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and flipped it open.
I panicked. I couldn’t let him call Cass! In two long strides, I crossed the room and slapped the phone out of his hand. It fell to the floor with a sick clap.
“You stupid girl!” Shorty picked up the phone. He pressed a few buttons and swore. “You owe me a new phone.”
“Put it on Cass’s tab,” I quipped, reaching for the buckles of the restraints that tied down Stewie. I glanced at the doctor. It wasn’t the ignoramus from before. This was a little Asian guy with Mr. Magoo glasses.
“You, Magoo, help me unbuckle these.” He hesitated. “Now! Or I’m calling the cops!” Those were the magic words. Once they were all unbuckled I helped Stewie sit up.
“Ouch. It hurts,” he cried. Tears puddled then streamed from under the mask.
“You idiots! What did you do to him?” I glared at Mr. Magoo, who quickly looked to Shorty.
“He’s fine, Arden, just a little sore,” Shorty explained impatiently.
“Oh yeah? Well, hop your butt up here. Let me see how you like it.” Shorty’s brows pulled down into a frown.
“That’s what I thought.” I looked around for Stewie’s clothes, found them draped over a chair and shooed him behind a lab screen.
“Cherry, I’m so glad to see you. I prayed and prayed you’d find me,” Stewie said from behind the curtain.
“I know buddy. I’m really glad to see you too. Try to hurry, okay?” I said with a soothing voice. I never took my eyes off the two men in the room. Magoo looked harmless, but those were the ones you had to watch.
“I want some answers.”
They both stared at me in silence.
“Am I speaking Chinese? What are you morons doing to Stewie?” I said, raising my voice.
“Always with the mouth.”
I froze. Things just went from bad to worse. Cass stood at the entrance of the room, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.
“Imagine my surprise when I heard you screaming as I stepped off the elevator.” He smiled tightly, his eyes narrowed into slits. He looked like a shark. My mouth had gone dry. My hands started shaking.
“But I’m equally as sure you’re just as surprised to see me.” He settled against the door jam. “I was sitting at my desk this morning, contemplating that nice big chocolate chip muffin you baked for me when my lieutenant came over for some paperwork. He was off to a bad start. Poor shmuck hadn’t had any breakfast. I thought I’d be nice so I gave him my muffin.” Cass shook his head slowly. “About fifteen minutes later he’s running to the bathroom. That’s when it hits me. I mean, I’m a detective I should have picked up on it two weeks ago, but I never thought you’d be stupid enough to poison me.” His mirthless chuckle made my skin prickle with goose bumps. He pushed off the door jam and stepped into the room. I retreated.
“So,” he drawled, “you want answers? I can tell you whatever you want to know. Ask away.” His voice was calm, but I knew the tick in his jaw meant he was barely holding back. I was in hot water any way I looked at it. No use trying to talk my way out of it now. I licked my lips nervously. Cass grinned knowingly.
“What are you doing to Stewie?”
“Stewie. Always Stewie,” he complained. “Stewie is one of many volunteering his body to medical science. He’s donating his bone marrow.”
I looked at Magoo who nodded at me. I’m not a doctor or scientist, but I do know that extracting bone marrow is very painful and can be very dangerous if done too much to one person.
“You’re insane. All of you,” I uttered softly. Cass’s eyes glowed menacingly.
“Insane? How insane is it to make ten thousand dollars a month? Hmm? Is that crazy?” He drew out the word. I remembered the last time I called him crazy. A shiver rippled up my spine.
“Why Stewie?”
“Why not? He’s homeless. There were no hoops to jump through or red tape to worry about. Look at him.” Cass waved an arm at the screen. I didn’t look. “He’s perfect. No one cares about him. He’s a nobody.”
“I care. He’s somebody to me,” I said forcefully, sounding braver than I felt.
Cass shook his head again, bewildered. He raised his eyes to the ceiling then looked back at me.
“What is so special about that retard?” he asked. The wounded look in his eyes baffled me. He was jealous of Stewie?
“He’s a good person. I can trust him. He never lies to me.” I jutted out my chin defiantly.
“Is that all?” Cass sighed. “Are you sure there isn’t more to it? Did you sleep with him?”
Shorty snickered. I flashed him a warning look.
“Don’t be disgusting.”
“We’ll find out when we get home so it’s best to tell the truth now.”
I gulped back a hard knot of dread.
“How’d you know, anyway?”
I clamped my mouth shut.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’re mine. You legally belong to me...” His sentence trailed off. Then he smiled perversely and said, “Your crime deserves a fitting punishment though.”
Let the punishment fit the crime.
I’d said that to him so long ago. If I’d known he would use it on me so much since then I’d have never brought it to his attention.
“We’re leaving,” I said.
“Yes, we are,” Cass replied. “Get the kid Ray. Take him home.” Shorty moved toward me. I was blocking the screen.
“Back off, Shorty.” I braced my legs apart, readying a defense.
He looked at Cass. Cass’s face was thoughtful as he watched me. He was analyzing the situation.
“I should have told them to kill him in the park,” he sighed, agitated.
“What did you say?” I couldn’t have heard him right.
“I think you heard me just fine.” Cass’s mouth turned up in a cruel grin.
“Those kids in the park... that was you?” My head started spinning. Cass was behind the attack?
“How else was I going to convince you to move in with me? I had to get rid of the retard. Those thugs were going to jail on a drug charge. I made the drugs disappear from the evidence room. They weren’t supposed to beat you so badly. I told them to rough you up, scare you, not almost kill you. If I ever run into them again...”
Breathe, I told myself. I could hear Stewie’s little whine beginning from behind the curtain. The shaking in my hands moved up my arms to my shoulders and down through my chest. Cass was worse than I thought. He was more dangerous than I realized.
Escape wasn’t my only objective now. I had to become Houdini and make me and Stewie disappear for good.
I took a deep steady breath. “So what do we do now?” I asked.
Cass didn’t answer me right away; he pursed his lips, thinking. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out his Glock. I sucked air in through my mouth like a fish out of water.
“Now we get rid of unwanted liabilities.” He flicked the safety off. “I think this will help your loyalty problem.”
“I don’t have a loyalty problem,” I murmured fearfully, misunderstanding what he was saying. He couldn’t kill me. There would be an investigation. Like Ellen? My mind sputtered. Oh God...
Cass walked over to me, laying a cool hand on my cheek. “You won’t after I take out the source of your confusion. Come out here, Stewie.”
“No!” I yelled, pushing Cass away. “Stay back Stewie!”
“Stop it! You are MY wife!” Cass grabbed me by the hair and threw me on the floor. He brought his hand down, the one holding the gun, and hit me. I saw stars. Lots of them. Then I saw Stewie knock down the screen and tackle Cass.
Cass was smaller, slighter than Stewie, but he was in full rage mode. They were an even match. I scrambled to my feet to help Stewie. Hands gripped my elbows.
“Let me go!” I screeched, wriggling against the hold.
“Calm down,” Shorty ordered.
Cass punched Stewie in the stomach. Stewie folded in half and hit the floor, landing on his knees. Cass raised the gun at Stewie. Everything that happened next was like a dream, transpiring in slow motion. It all fell apart in a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours.
I twisted around far enough to bring my knee up and smash Shorty’s privates into his rib cage. He howled, hitting the floor, hands between his legs. Magoo stood in the corner like a statue.
I dove in front of Stewie just as Cass fired. Hot searing pain ripped through my shoulder. I landed hard on the cold linoleum floor.
“Cherry!” Stewie shook my arm. I screamed.
“You hurt her!” he roared. I heard scuffling and Cass swearing. Then a few muted thumps. I rolled over to see what was happening. Stewie was on top of Cass, banging his head on the floor.
“Stewie... No...” I croaked out.
He looked at me. His face was screwed into a hostile mask, so unlike the innocent look he usually wore. He climbed off Cass and crawled over to me.
“Oh, Cherry!” He started crying. “Are you okay? What are we going to do?”
Stewie rocked back and forth on his knees, waiting for me to tell him what to do. What the heck could we do? I’d been shot. I was bleeding all over the place. Stewie was a blubbering mess. I closed my eyes trying to concentrate.
“Lift up. Lay here,” I heard.
Stewie lifted me in his arms. He hobbled a few steps to lay me down on the table he had vacated. Poor Stewie. I was sure he was in pain too.
I opened my eyes to look into the face of Mr. Magoo. He poked and prodded at my shoulder. I bit my lip to keep from screaming again.
“Flesh wound, through and through. You okay,” he told me before turning to rifle through his medicine cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of water and a bottle of peroxide. He put the items on a wheeled cart and walked back to me. He cut my shirt and peeled off the material around my shoulder.
Magoo took a wad of cloth and poured peroxide over it and sponged my shoulder. He took another wad of cloth and poured the water over it and handed it to Stewie.
“Press down here.” He took Stewie’s hands and held them to my wound. I yelped. Stewie looked like he was going to pass out.
“I’m okay,” I assured him, even though I was anything but.
After about ten minutes the blood stopped oozing and Magoo rolled me to my side to cut the back of my shirt to cleanse the exit wound. Then he wrapped yards of padded gauze around my shoulder. Making a sling from one of the dressing gowns, he secured my arm over my chest.
“You need a doctor,” Magoo instructed calmly.
“I can’t go to a doctor. They’ll call the police.”
Magoo helped me sit up. Stewie stared at me like he expected me to sprout wings. I managed a smile for him. Magoo pulled a black bag from a closet. He dug around, extracting a prescription bottle.
“Antibiotics,” he shoved the bottle into my hand.
“Thanks.” I gave Magoo a side glance. “Why are you helping us?”
“I don’t like them.” He nodded toward the unconscious Cass and a still groaning Shorty. Made sense to me.
“C’mon Stewie, we gotta bail.” I ignored the lightheadedness that threatened to take over when I stood up.
“Get to a doctor,” Magoo instructed.
I nodded. Stewie slipped his pack onto his back, slinging mine over one shoulder as he supported my weight with his free arm. We made our way to the elevator. I said a quick prayer as the ping sounded and the doors opened. Empty.
I tried to concentrate on our next move, but the drowsiness was setting in, making it hard to focus. I took a quick inventory of our supplies. We had a thousand dollars and a diamond wedding set. That was the good news. The bad news was that we had no vehicle, no change of clothes—which I was sorely in need of—we had nowhere to go, and Cass would be hot on our trail when he came to.
“Stewie...” I mumbled, feeling the blackness creeping in. “You have to hide us.”
“Where should I hide us, Cherry?” He sounded scared. I opened my mouth to suggest a few places, but everything went dark.