Pure Dynamite (10 page)

"We're coming." Adam reached for her arm.

She stepped back, eyes flaring. "You don't really expect me to go in there and help him, do you?"

"Sometimes you have to do things you'd rather not."
For the higher good.
He tried to grasp her by the arm again.

"I can find my own way." She stuffed her fists in her pockets and moved sideways, avoiding his touch. Hard plastic brushed against her knuckles: the handle of a disposable scalpel, the ultra sharp blade still covered.

In the confusion earlier, she must have dropped it in her pocket. She tried to draw comfort from the thought that she had means to defend herself.

Adam pressed closer. "Come on."

Leaving the scalpel in her pocket, she pretended to give in and followed along.

In the exam room, they found Lyle fumbling awkwardly with a match as he tried to light a cigarette.

Renata ripped the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it into the sink. Next went the match from his fingers. "No smoking."

"Bitch! What'd you do that for? Worry about the hole in my groin, not my lungs."

"I could care less about your lungs." She pointed to the posted warning on the wall. "We're running oxygen in here. Highly flammable—though personally, I don't care if either of you get blown to kingdom come."

"Fuck off, lady." Lyle tapped out another cigarette. "You're not in charge here." "That's right. I am. Remember?" Adam took the cigarette from between Lyle's lips and tossed it after the other.

Renata saw resentment flash in Lyle's eyes. Did Adam realize how unhappy his accomplice was about taking orders? Or had the gratitude for saving his life already worn thin? Perhaps the two men weren't as close as she'd assumed.

Adam leaned in. "Tell me what your brother said."

"We sit tight until he calls back," Lyle said.

"That's it? Sit tight?" He shook his head. "That's not good enough."

"He's doing the best he can. Getting another set of wheels takes time."

"We don't have time." Adam updated Lyle on the news report. "Durham police are starting a manhunt. And they've got blood in their eyes now that one of their own's been shot."

Lyle didn't blink over the news that he'd shot a deputy. "Now what?"

"We need to get the hell out of town."

Lyle curled his lip in Renata's direction. "Then if she has any more doctoring to do, she better do it fast."

Reluctantly, she moved forward. While the news they'd be leaving soon should have relieved her, the idea of giving aide to this punk really tested her Hippocratic oath. First, do no harm ... Drat. Look how much harm he'd caused others.

Just treat the injury and ignore the man,
she told herself.

Grabbing a handful of sponges, she began cleaning the area around Lyle's wound. There was dried blood everywhere, making her wonder again how much blood he'd lost.

She swiped the skin across his lower abdomen, then paused. The man bore signs of other injuries—burns, cuts. Some were healed, some more recent. All were purposely inflicted. Neatly. Methodically.

She glanced at Lyle, confused. "You sustained these in prison?"

"The guards call it 'rehabilitation.' I flunked." Lyle closed his eyes, his breathing labored.

Adam watched her face as the realization that the prison guards had tortured Lyle dawned on her. That was a facet of life she hadn't been exposed to.

He had seen the scars before. Most were faded since it had been going on for most of the nine months Lyle had been in prison. Adam also knew who was behind it—two guards, Wallace and Huggins—and what they were after: the location of Lyle's father and brothers. Or rather, the million-dollar reward for the capture of the infamous Four Horsemen.

Small wonder the kid had been near rabid in his desire to escape. Adam recalled how Lyle had promised Wallace he'd get even, making him wonder whether Lyle or his family had anything to do with the missing prison guard.

The cell phone rang. Lyle winced as he answered.

"Nevin! The doc's bandaging me up now."

Lyle grew quiet, saying only "yes" or "no." Several times, he looked at Adam but said nothing. Adam knew they were discussing him, wished he knew what was being said.

Finally Lyle held out the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

Skeptical, Adam pressed the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

"You know who this is?"

"Of course."

"Listen, I know this hasn't gone like it should, but
I'm going to fix that. In the meantime I need your help with something."

Adam snorted. "You're not in a position to ask much."

"Maybe not. But right now I figure you need me as much as I need you. Especially since the cops are combing that area. Wouldn't take much for them to find you."

"You picked the wrong person to threaten."

"Wait!" Nevin's voice turned cajoling. "You're right. Actually, I have a proposition. You make sure my brother gets to me safely, and I'll make it more than worth your while. I'll have a car for you within two hours. Directions for safe passage will be in it."

"Where are we headed?"

"I'll tell you when you're on the road," Nevin promised. "And plan on bringing that doctor along."

Adam hesitated. Forcing Renata to care for Lyle was one thing. Kidnapping her... "That's not necessary."

"I don't give a damn if you think it's necessary. I won't take chances with my brother's life. Not when we're this close to getting him back to the family."

This piqued Adam's interest. "You're in this vicinity?"

Nevin sighed impatient. "Not any more—thanks to your little fiasco with the deputy."

"Fiasco?" His grip on the phone tightened. "Let's get clear on a few things: It wasn't my screwup that produced this mess. If I had been alone, I'd have been out of the country by now."

The implication was plain: Adam wasn't to blame. Nor was he pleased with the current situation.

"Look, I know my brother can fuck things up big time. And I know you're not happy to involve anyone else. But you have to bring the doctor along now,"
Nevin said. "If Lyle gets worse on the road are you going to risk busting into another clinic?"

"We both know the cops would expect that."

Nevin lowered his voice. "Where you're going, you'll be miles from a hospital. I'd rather be safe than sorry. And it won't be for long. Then you can turn her loose on a country road no worse for the wear. It'll be like dumping a stray animal."

Adam briefly shifted his eyes to Renata, hoped she couldn't guess what they discussed. "The stray will be one-hundred percent unharmed?"

"Absolutely. You should know that I don't hold with killing innocent people."

Unless it suits your purpose,
Adam thought. He was familiar with the crimes attributed to the McEdwins. Willy made a point of taking out innocent people along with his targeted objective. All in the name of vengeance for a wrong that could never be righted: the death of Willy's wife.

"Don't forget she could also have value as a hostage," Nevin continued. "The cops always claim they won't negotiate, but it's a different ballgame when you're holding a gun to someone's head. Just be ready. I'll get back to you with details."

The phone went dead. Adam looked at Lyle. "He's calling back. Chill out while I get supplies."

Grasping Renata's arm, he dragged her out of the exam room and down the hall. "Do you have coffee?"

The question surprised her. "What?"

"Coffee? An employee kitchen?" It didn't sound like he'd get much sleep tonight. And Nevin's remark that they'd be miles from a hospital was telling. It was clear they were no longer headed toward Richmond.

She pointed to an open doorway. "There's the employee break room."

He made her enter first. "Make a pot. Extra strong."

She opened a drawer and once again felt Adam peer over her shoulder. She grabbed two foil packages of coffee, held them up. "You're welcome to do this yourself."

"Just checking." He turned away.

While she drew water, he studied the photographs pinned on the bulletin board. A hand-written index card noted the photos were from a group hike the clinic staff had done at the start of summer.

He pointed to a snapshot of her with three other people. "These are people you work with? Other doctors?"

At her nod Adam re-examined the photo. They looked more like a band of gypsies than professionals. The group appeared to be laughing over some private joke. Renata wore a tank top, shorts and hiking boots, showing off legs that were muscular and tanned. Runner's legs.

His eyes took in her figure. The shapeless white jacket she wore now hid a lot. In the photo, her hair was loose, a dark silky spill that hung just below her shoulders. She had big brown, expressive eyes that twinkled behind long lashes. He studied her mouth, her full lips. Very kissable lips, he recalled.

He pointed to the background. "Is that the bridge at Laurel Fork Gorge?" Laurel Fork was on the Appalachian Trail. "That bridge was built using nothing but primitive skills and native material."

Renata squinted at the picture. "I'm afraid to ask how you know that."

He grunted. "Having a hard time imagining me hiking?"

She nodded. "It seems a little wholesome. Unless of course you were burying a body."