In the House On Lakeside Drive (20 page)

“Something we should know, Evan?”

The filthy room started to spin. The already frayed nerves the man possessed were now beginning to snap. “He's got them,” he said, repeating it like a mantra. “Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit…” Evan's heart began to race, and before long his friends were on the phone calling for an ambulance.

Chapter 28

The bar was a dive, even worse than Rick's Landing. The scotch was watered down, and the seating was moth-eaten and full of old cigarette ash. It was here that Cooper nursed his third scotch, accompanied by the four Mason brothers.

“Guy better call, Cooper,” Steve Mason said, staring into his pint of Guinness. “All we've heard about is how this job's gonna pay out handsomely, but so far it's been all talk.”

“Need a payday,” Travis seconded. “Debt's runnin' a mite high.”

“It'll pay, it'll pay,” Cooper reassured them. “You got the room ready?”

“Yeah, two of 'em. Not nowhere near each other. You better hope this works.” Jack Mason pounded his boilermaker and called for another. His beefy frame sagged over the worn metal chair that stood at the sides of the table. “I'd hate to take the money out of your hide.”

“No need. Told you, I have a line on some cash.”

“Seems strange that you need the kid for it,” said Lowell Mason. “And his friends.”

“Carrot and stick,” Cooper explained. “Kid ain't gonna lift a finger for me. But he would for those friends of his.”

“You hope,” Jack repeated. “Seems like an awful lot of work for a government check.”

Cooper smiled. If only they knew. “Well, money's money. You want what's yours or not?”

“No argument on that front,” Travis said, settling the matter. The sound of a phone blaring through the cheap music got the table's attention, and Cooper picked it up. “Yes?”

“You the dude from the store?”

“This is.” The Cajun smiled.

“I'm interested.”

“Good, good. Where could we meet?”

There was a pause. “Someplace quiet. Know a place?”

“Let's say the Sawback. Hole in the wall in North Kingston. Two hours.”

Another pause. “Two hours. And hey? Be forthcomin'.”

“Two hours. You got it.” Cooper looked at his unlikely partners. “See? Easy.”

“I'm thinkin' we might need some toys, brothers,” Jack Mason said, lifting his three hundred pounds off his chair. “Travis, take our friend up to the Sawback. Get good seats.”

“Will do. Bring fun stuff.”

“Always.”

Chapter 29

Rachel ran through Hope Memorial hospital, her heart racing. “Evan Dyer,” she nearly shouted at the admitting clerk, her voice nearly gone. Ragged breaths heaved from overtaxed lungs, and the poor clerk stared at the mess of a woman wide eyed.

“Miss, are you all right?”

“No, she's not all right!” Frank Parker said, his arthritic knees slowing him down. “After the time she's had, lad? For heaven's sake, answer the woman!”

“I'm…I'm fine,” Rachel eked out, struggling to take in oxygen. “Wh-where's Evan?”

“Family?”

“Fiancée,” Frank spat. “Where is he?”

The clerk scanned the screen in front of him. “Third floor. Three twenty-eight.” He pointed at the elevators. “Are you going to need a wheelchair?”

“I'll manage.” Rachel staggered toward the mechanical doors, nearly falling. A hand rested against the small of her back.

“Calm down, lass,” Frank said. “You'll do those young men of yours no good if you kill yourself.”

“What am I supposed to think? First the kids, now Evan collapsing.” She worked hard not to let a stray tear fall. “What the hell is going
on
?”

Frank shrugged as the floor bell dinged. The pair rode the lift three flights and made straight for the room, where both Jesse Baker and Eric Ingham sat outside. “Can't go in yet,” Jesse said, stopping Rachel just before she went in. “He's still out cold. Docs are in looking at him.”

“What happened out there? Cooper, he didn't…”

Eric shook his head. “Wasn't there.”

“Wasn't there? Then you tried the bars, right? I mean, the man practically
lives
in them.”

“Called every one he frequents. Seems he's not welcome at most of them. Ran too high a tab.” Eric sank back into the uncomfortable plastic chair he had been sitting in for the past hour. “He's nowhere to be found.”

“There has to be
something
we can do. Too much of a coincidence, Remy goes missing and then we can't find that bastard, right?”

Jesse stopped her. “We've got a BOLO out on him. Rachel, that's not what put Evan here.”

Now the redhead was totally confused. “Then what?” Her green eyes grew wide. “What happened?”

Both men shrugged. “He got a phone call. From the sounds of things, he knew who was on the other end of the line, and it scared the living shit out of him. I mean, literally—the shit out of him.” Jesse waved a hand toward the hospital room door. “There're a few questions I have to ask him too, Rachel. Professional ones.”

“Why?”

“We heard Evan's end of the conversation. Between you and me? I think he knows who's got the kids. I think there's something he's not telling us. And I think that's what caused him to lose it and end up here.” The big man's voice was solemn as he spoke.

“You can't possibly think he would harm those lads,” Frank said, ready to fight. “Evan would never…”

“I'm not saying he would, Frank. I
am
saying there's something he's not telling us. And whatever it is, I'm willing to bet it's going to be key to finding Remy, Sam, and Josh.” The officer shrugged. “I love him too, but this isn't the time for secrets.”

Rachel looked in through the double-paned glass at the form of the man she loved, lying still on a hospital bed as a team of physicians scribbled on pads in front of them. “Oh, for heaven's sake! Hurry up!” she cried. “Don't they realize what's at stake here?”

At her words, the figures filed through the door. “Evan Dyer?” one of them asked, a short man with a balding gray patch and tortoise-shell glasses across a button nose.

“That's us.” Jesse stood up. “What's wrong with him?”

“In a word? Shock. He's had a tremendous shock to his system. I'd say his nerves are shot, but that might be putting it mildly. Has he had anything happen recently?”

It was all Rachel could do not to burst into peals of uncontrollable nervous laughter. “Are you
kidding
?! Do you ever leave the damn hospital? Our kids are missing, there's a crazed, drunken madman somewhere in the middle, and…and…”

“Children? Missing?” The doctor looked aghast and puzzled.

“Evan and Rachel, here,” Jesse said, gesturing toward Rachel, “run a boarding house for young people with disabilities. Their three tenants went missing Saturday night; haven't been seen or heard from since. We're worried that foul play might be involved, so it is extremely important that we talk with Evan about the last phone call he took.”

“He needs complete rest,” the doctor warned. “And no more shocks to the system. Given the current state of his health, it's more important than you realize.”

“What's wrong with him?” Rachel demanded. “Evan's never been sick…”

“Young lady, his system has been compromised. He might seem healthy, even normal, but we can't seem to give him anything to calm him down. His heart is racing a mile a minute, and it could lead to arrest if we don't do something soon.” The little man looked at Jesse. “You say this happened after a phone call?”

“Yeah,” Eric offered. “One minute he's on the phone, the next…” Long hands waved in the universal symbol for “it's over.”

“Whatever it was, it was enough. And we don't know what's causing our usual antianxiety drugs to be ineffective with him. Has he ever taken anything for anxiety in the past?”

Rachel shook her head. “Not that I know of. We've been together five years, and I've never seen him take anything stronger than an over-the-counter ibuprofen for a headache. He hates doctors, and won't set foot in a pharmacy.
I
buy the ibuprofen for him!”

“Family, next of kin? I'm working with an incomplete profile here.
Something
is causing this man to be resistant to the drugs he needs.” The doctor glanced over at his patient, now dozing in a fitful sleep. “We've given him a sedative, but that's only a temporary solution. He needs to face the problem at its source, or there's no guarantee this won't happen again.”

“Nothing. I know he has family in the South somewhere, but none he speaks to.”

“Then we need to find them. Fast.” Hard gray eyes looked at the little group assembled before him. “I'd like to allow his system a chance to recover. Twelve hours minimal. And no additional stress; he needs to be calm. I can't emphasize that enough
.
Try to find the family; get his back records. It's the best I can do.”

“Not good enough,” Jesse said. “We've got three vulnerable adults missing, and right now, doc, their welfare is
my
priority. I need to talk with him,
now.
”

The doctor shook his head. “Twelve hours. I can't cut it any further. Unless you'd like to kill your only lead with a fatal heart attack, then by all means, I'll wake him.”

Rachel leaned against the window, finally bursting into tears. “This isn't happening,” she cried, sobbing into Eric's shoulder. “First the kids, then Evan…if anything happens to any of them…”

The doctor wrote something on a prescription pad and handed it to Frank. “See she gets this,” he said. “I don't know what their daily lives are like, but…she's going to end up right next to him if she's not careful. I appreciate that this is an unusually stressful time, but…”

“Thanks,” the Englishman said crisply, pocketing the slip. The doctor shrugged and left, heading down the hall toward the next patient. “I'll get started in looking up Evan's family,” he said to the others. “I think we might find some answers there.”

“Where would you start?” Jesse asked. “Evan's never been real forthcoming with his past. I never questioned it, really—everyone's got skeletons, I suppose—but we don't even have a starting point.”

Frank gave a small lopsided nod, almost a shrug. “We do. He said something to me, just after the break-in up at the house.”

“What?” Three voices echoed badly off the hospital wallpaper.

“I think we'd all better sit down,” Frank said. “I need some tea. And it's not as though we're getting in anytime soon,” he added, motioning to the monitored room behind them.

The party went into a small waiting area, where there was slightly better seating. “Evan spoke to me, when you went with Remy and Sam to look over the damage,” Frank began. “He mentioned he was from the Carolinas somewhere. He wasn't specific.”

“Narrows it down,” Jesse said. “Still, that's not that earth shattering. What else did he say?”

The old lawyer sighed. “Realize I would not be breaking this kind of personal confidence if there weren't lives at stake.” The three young people nodded. “Evan also mentioned being witness to a thwarted robbery while in college. He managed to stop the crime from taking place. Made a very dangerous enemy in doing so.”

“Did he mention a name?”

A full head of gray hair shook. “No. He said it had once been a friend, from primary school. Got into drugs. The young man went to prison, but still managed to make an attempt on Evan's life. I greatly assume it was before his sentencing that the attempt took place.”

“That would scare the shit out of
me,
” Eric said. “I'd leave town too.”

“There's more.” Frank sighed. “Evan mentioned that he once was an addict. Pills.”

“He told me his old man was a bastard, control freak. Threw him in pharmacy school against Evan's wishes.” Rachel froze. “Oh, God…”

“Pharmacists burn out rather quickly. The stress that comes with the job is
insane.
It doesn't take much for one to start popping pills to get through the day,” Jesse said. “Happened to my sister-in-law. She finally gave it up.”

“But it explains why he won't even
look
at a pharmacy, and why he hates taking medicine. He won't take something unless the pain's unbearable.” She looked at Frank. “We
have
to know what he took, if for nothing else so we can help him calm down.” She looked at Jesse and Eric. “What do we know about the call? Anything?”