Healing Love: Saints Protection & Investigation (6 page)

Catching the eye of Dr. Villogas once again, she just nodded as she made her way into the medical supply tent behind the others.

Once inside, she saw Sharon being lectured to by the nun. She then looked over to see Lorainne checking the supplies. Walking over, she spoke to the timid woman.

“How’re you doing?”

Lorainne nodded in answer, tears threatening to spill once more.

“You’ve got to hang in there, sweetie,” Miriam said, placing her hand on the frail woman’s arm. “We have to stay strong so that we can be ready to leave whenever we can.”

“They’ll never let us go,” the other nurse whispered, rubbing her hand over her sweating forehead.

Miriam quickly placed her hand on Lorainne’s head and felt the warmth. “I think you have a fever,” she said. “Let’s check.”

Before Lorainne could protest, Miriam whipped out a thermometer and quickly determined that the woman did indeed have a low-grade fever. “Have you been feeling sick?”

Lorainne nodded and said, “I keep going to the bathroom. I figured it was just the change in water, but…” leaning in to whisper, she confessed, “I’m passing blood.”

Miriam turned to look for the doctor, but Lorainne grabbed her arm, hissing, “You can’t tell anyone.”

Jerking her gaze back to the ill woman, she asked, “Why?”

“Don’t you see? They’ll kill me. Why would they keep a sick nurse around?”

Miriam wanted to argue, but was afraid that Lorainne might be right. Licking her lips, she looked around quickly, finding the medicine that she needed. “Okay, but let’s treat you. Have you taken anything?”

“No, just trying to stay hydrated with bottled water.”

Nodding, Miriam walked to the cabinet and scanned the contents. Finding the Paromomycin and an antibiotic, she quickly snatched them. Turning back to Lorainne, she said, “Take these now. I’ll take some back to the treatment tent with me. Come find me this afternoon just before we go back to the compound. I’ll give you a second dose there and no one will know you’re taking them.”

Playing her part well, Lorainne took the pills that Miriam rolled into a bandage and, on her way out of the door, grabbed a water bottle provided for the medical staff. Rolling more pills into a bandage, Miriam shoved it into her pocket and then found the drugs she had been originally looking for. Making her way back to the tent, she began her long afternoon.

That night, lying in bed unable to sleep, Miriam tried to figure out a plan for escaping, but it eluded her.
Even if I could manage to escape the compound, how would I ever know where to go to find a way out?
Her mind wandered back to her brother and she sent up a silent prayer once again.
I gotta have help, Jobe. Please.

C
am bent over
in the field, sweat pouring down his face as he shoved the dirt to the side. His stained shirt was plastered to his skin and the mud caked on the bottom of his pants made moving difficult. The mountainside was populated with poppy plants hidden with towering pines and fir trees. The creeks nearby, with the pipe irrigation system, normally kept the plants watered. The earthquake had damaged the system and one of Cam’s jobs was to dig new holes and re-lay pipes.

Standing, he stretched his broad back and glanced around. The other workers were starting to head back toward the hut for the mid-day break.

He had found the time to send a few cryptic messages through his secure phone but had spent the last three days in hard labor and getting the lay of the land. Most of the workers he was with were healthy, having come from other areas outside the earthquake location and, like his undercover story, were just looking for hourly labor that paid well.

They lived in wooden huts, cooked over a campfire and worked from sunup to sundown. He had started out at a small independent farm, but with his size and ability to work long hours, it was not long before one of the cartel agents sent him to the hillside to work on the irrigation. If the plants were not watered they would die and the cartel was not about to take any more losses than they had to.

“Hey, Big Man,” one of the workers called over. “You ready to take a break? You show us up and the bosses will want us to do more.”

Cam smiled and lumbered over to the group that was sitting under a tree, water bottles and sandwiches as their lunch. In the couple of days he had been there, he knew that these men were farmers, not cartel members—a great distinction because of Mexico’s need for marketable crops. With the legalization of marijuana in many areas, the Mexican farmers could no longer afford to grow it. But with the increase of heroin, growing poppy was profitable. They did not care what they grew or what happened to the crop after they were paid.

But, he also found them to be a source of information about the earthquake and the local hierarchy of the cartel.

“How’s your brother?” Cam asked one of the men.

“Haven’t heard from him lately but his wife said he was treated at one of the camps. Said they got some doctors and nurses that’ll patch ’em up,” Andreas answered. “I got me a field that my family works, but came here for the money when they needed some extra hands.”

“Who’s taking care of your crops?” another asked.

“Got some kids working my small farm. My oldest is ten—he’ll work it until I can get back.”

Hiding his disgust behind his chewing, Cam thought of the kids working in fields. He watched the men carefully to plan how best to get closer to the central compound where Miriam would be kept.
Slow and steady,
he thought.
Rushing in too soon would do her no good.

“They got a lot of these camps with doctors and nurses?” Cam asked casually.

“Not many, I don’t think. I heard on the radio that Los Mochis had some and I know the workers went to clinics that were closer to the fields. The earthquake hurt mostly where there were buildings.” The man looked at the wooden hut behind them and chortled. “As you can see, our dwelling stood tall.”

The others laughed and Cam grinned along with them.

“I haven’t listened to a radio,” he continued. “Was there a lotta’ people hurt?”

“Oh, yeah,” one of the other men said as the others nodded. “Even the men who own these fields had a lot hurt. Some of their farmworkers or staff were in buildings that would have fallen down.”

The men continued to discuss what the earthquake felt like for several minutes. Cam nodded occasionally as though he had been there too, while his mind worked furiously at a plan for getting closer to the compound.

“Anyone ever come up here to check on things?” Cam asked.

“We should be getting a visitor in the next day or so,” the old farmer replied. “They come to check on us and see that things are moving forward. In fact, they should come soon to check on the pipes.”

“What happens when these pipes are working?” Cam asked. “Don’t want to be without work this winter.”

Nodding, another man agreed. “Yeah, I ain’t got no farm to get back to.”

Andreas said, “Don’t worry. You’ll be taken care of. They always need workers.” Glancing around at the sparse living conditions they had, he added, “But some jobs are better than others.” He landed his gaze back on Cam and said, “You, Big Man. You could be used for hauling or maybe even get a job driving one of the trucks.”

Not going to be around long enough for that,
Cam thought,
but I gotta find a way to get closer. Someone coming to check on us will be just the ticket.

Standing, the men headed back to the fields, the fall sun beating down on their backs once more.

*

That evening, Miriam
and the other nurses were ready for dinner when a guard showed up, ordering them into vehicles once more.
What now,
she thought, fear choking her. With a quick glance, she saw the others had the same look on their faces.

This time they were not blindfolded, but with the dark night closing around her, she had no concept of direction. After about ten minutes, she did notice that the vehicle had left the gravel, bumpy roads and now traveled on pavement. Trying to see through the illumination of the headlights, she finally saw a tall wall up ahead with a heavily guarded, ornate gate. As they stopped at the checkpoint, she blinked away as a strong lamp was shone inside the car before they were waved on through.

Within a few more minutes, they approached a brightly lit, massive home with more guards patrolling the area. The paved driveway circled around a fountain and led toward the front. Once out of the vehicle, Miriam and the others were herded up the front steps of the mansion. As the gold colored doors swung open, the glare of the inside lights blinded her.

As her eyes adjusted, she tried to keep her expression schooled, but found it almost impossible. The inside of the home rivaled the most luxurious mansion seen in any tabloid of the stars’ multimillion dollar homes. Floors of marble in the three story entranceway with another fountain in the middle led to dark teak floors extending to the room on the left that appeared to be a library.

To the right was another room, equally ostentatious, and the purpose she could not discern. There appeared to be a great many plants, tall palm trees in ornate pots, and to the side was a large cage. Hearing a growl, she jumped as she realized a black panther wearing a jeweled collar was now pacing in the cage.

“Jesus, how rich are these guys?” Sharon commented, her eyes looking around at the room.

Before she could answer, Miriam turned as a door to the back opened and they were escorted into a dining room with a table laden with food that could easily seat twenty people.

Miriam had to admit that her mouth watered as the smell of the delicacies drifted her way. Angered at how the peasants were given nothing to eat while the cartel leaders lived like kings, she pursed her lips.
Keep a cool head,
she reminded herself. She looked at the others and noticed that Sharon had jumped at the chance to sit as they were instructed. She followed Sister Genovia’s lead and sat down as well, near the end, hoping to stay out of the limelight.
It may just be nerves, but I have a bad feeling about this.
Placing her shaking hands in her lap, she continually glanced to the side, keeping an eye on the calm nun.

Other doors opened and a handsome man walked in with Dr. Villogas, two beautiful women behind them and a few others trailing behind. Ernesto’s eyes gleamed as they landed on Miriam.

“Juaquim. Let me introduce to you the wonderful nurses that I have been working with,” he said smoothly. He called out their names to the other man, who eyed them carefully before breaking into a huge grin.

“Welcome to my humble home, ladies. We are indeed honored that you have come to help our good doctor in this time of need.”

Miriam tried to smile but the surreal farce being played out in front of them had her feeling trapped in a tragedy.
I thought Dr. Villogas was a victim also, but he’s part of this? He’s part of our kidnapping and captivity?

“You do realize that we were kidn—” Sharon began but was quickly interrupted by Sister Genovia.

“Forgive her, she is unused to our ways,” the nun spoke gently. Turning to Sharon, she gave her a pointed look and said, “We should not speak unless spoken to, my dear.”

Sharon reddened, but wisely kept her mouth shut.

Miriam watched as she was introduced to the others. Serita, Juaquim’s wife, looking bored, gave them a barely-there nod before sitting down at the opposite end from her husband. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her neck and wrists dripping in jewels, and her clothes were little more than what could be described as slutty couture. It was Ernesto’s wife, Consuella’s expression that concerned her. She glared at Miriam, unconcealed dislike pouring out toward her as she took a seat next to Serita. While equally drenched in jewelry as her friend, she wore her expensive clothing very well.

As the others settled into their chairs, the waitstaff began serving the multi-course dinner. Miriam kept an eye on Lorainne, knowing she could eat very little of the rich food and not become ill. Sharon dove in to the meal, exclaiming over its deliciousness. Miriam noticed Juaquim’s eyes found Sharon’s numerous times during the meal and Sharon gave no indication of discouraging it.

Ernesto constantly tried to draw Miriam into a conversation, seemingly oblivious to his wife’s visual daggers thrown her way. Miriam, on the other hand, was very aware. Eating just enough to not seem rude, she tried to keep up with the various players without being obvious. Consuella and Serita chattered amongst themselves, knowing that other than the nun, the nurses did not speak Spanish. Sharon, eyes still wide at the opulence of their surroundings, began talking to the men at the table and for the first time in days was not bemoaning their situation. Poor Lorainne tried not to be sick, and Sister Genovia simply sat as though she did not have a care in the world.
I’m either the only sane person in the room or the only crazy one!

After the meal, Serita and Consuella excused themselves and left the nurses with the men. Sharon took the opportunity to scoot her chair closer to Ernesto and Lorainne gave a silent plea to Miriam. Standing, Miriam said, “Please excuse me, but Lorainne and I would like to use the ladies’ room if possible.”