Sins of the Flesh (27 page)

“You call me when you’re ready so I can arrange for the treatment,” Liliana said and walked out.

C
aterina’s fever had returned. The heat of it had warned Mick of her fragility when she had taken hold of his hand earlier that morning before dozing off to a fitful sleep.

He grabbed his cell phone and speed-dialed Liliana as he sat in the chair by the bed, hoping she would have some news about the latest blood sample she had taken. His sister answered almost immediately, but strain colored her tones.

“You okay,
hermanita
?” he asked, worried that something was up with his sister. Something having nothing to do with the trouble in which he had embroiled her.

“Lots of emergencies. There’s good news, though,” she said, and her voice actually brightened at the end, giving him hope that the earlier strain was from just too much work.

“You were able to get something from the blood sample?” He shot a half-glance at Caterina as she stirred for a moment, but then drifted right back to sleep.

“We did. The bad news is there’s too much going on. Lots of white blood cells and too much cell damage.”

Mick cursed beneath his breath, but Liliana immediately said, “The good news is we’ve got a plasmapheresis
setup ready and waiting for Caterina. Once we run her blood through the separator, it should relieve some of her symptoms.”

He thought about bringing her into the hospital and the risk it presented. Caterina’s picture had been in the papers and on television for the last few days. Reaching over, he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.

Heat blasted from her. Too much heat.

If he didn’t risk bringing Caterina into the hospital, she might continue to get worse.

She might die.

His gut tightened at the thought of losing her.

“Where should I bring Cat?”

Mad Dog cursed and tossed aside the bits of the pastel pink envelope. Immediately after his late night break-in, he had spent a few hours searching the Internet, but had made little progress in tracking down where Mick might be.

His first guess had been that the address was from a town somewhere along the Eastern Shore. He’d put his money on the Jersey Shore given its proximity to Mick’s home base in Philadelphia. Probably the South Jersey shore.

That guess had left him trying to decipher the name of the town with those few letters. It had taken less than an hour to discover they most likely stood for Bradley Beach, a small shore town near Asbury Park. At least an hour away from South Jersey and Philly.

Whoever had sent Mick the envelope lived in that town. Possibly a member of Mick’s family, which would
give him some leverage if he could get them and trade them for Shaw.

Mad Dog’s cell phone rang. His client, based on the number on the caller ID.

“What are you doing?” his client asked, his words laced with anger and frustration.

“I’m doing what you paid me to do,” he said nonchalantly, not about to let some piss-ass scientist boss him around.

“People are asking questions.”

“People, huh? Which people?” It was easy to take care of people who asked too many questions.

The other man nearly hissed the name. “Edwards.”

Interesting, he thought. “You and your buddy have a falling-out?”

“Carrera and Shaw paid him a visit last night. He’s quite dissatisfied. There’s a lot at stake here.”

Fuck. Not only did Mick have Shaw, she seemed to be cognizant and working with him. Not good.

“I understand what’s at stake. I stand to lose as well,” Mad Dog reminded the man. He had only received half of his fee up front. Another cool million would only be delivered once he brought Shaw to them.

“We need her soon. The longer the police continue their investigation, the more likely they are to rule her out as a suspect.”

“I’m on his trail,” Mad Dog lied, frustrated that the clues provided by the envelope had so far yielded no results.

“Hurry it along, Mr. Donnelly. If the police start looking somewhere besides Shaw, everything will be jeopardized.”

In other words, they’d stiff him for the rest of the money they owed him. “I’ll have Shaw for you within forty-eight hours,” he said, determined not to let Mick screw things up.

“Forty-eight hours. If it takes longer—”

“I get it. No cash. For either of us. Like I said, I’ll have Shaw for you in forty-eight hours.”

Mad Dog hung up as his client continued with his dire warnings about the risk of failure. He hadn’t failed on any mission he’d undertaken. Well, none except the one with Franklin and Mick. If they hadn’t been such pussies, they could have salvaged that one as well. They had been too worried about collateral damage to handle the problem. He had no such qualms.

He returned to his laptop and his search on the Internet. Plugging in Bradley Beach and Carrera yielded lots of results, from fan sites for Porsches to an assortment of news articles from area papers.

Methodically Mad Dog began to go through the materials, skipping those that seemed less relevant. Finding several articles about an Antonio Carrera and his football exploits.

Unfortunately, many of the articles had been archived or were dead links. The use of the Wayback Machine site yielded the text of the articles, but not the pictures.

Damn, he thought. A picture might have helped him make a stronger connection to Mick if the football player looked anything like his ex-colleague.

What he did realize from the articles was that Antonio appeared to be at least eight or so years younger than Mick.

Additional hunts on the Net yielded another Carrera—a
Liliana Carrera who had been valedictorian of her high school class. Still no picture. This woman was just a few years younger than Mick, and Mad Dog had little doubt that all of them were somehow related.

Tracking down the names of the local high schools, he tried to see if they had old yearbooks up on their Web sites. They didn’t.

He had the same result at the local library. Although they had the yearbooks listed in their collection of reference books, the yearbooks were not available online.

Powering down his laptop, Mad Dog decided he needed to do some hands-on investigating.

Later this morning he would take his hunt to the streets. If he could confirm that the Internet hits for the two Carreras were for Mick’s relatives and verify that they still lived in the area, he could track down any properties they might own and scope them out.

As he considered everything, he was certain of one thing: Forty-eight hours from now he’d be a million dollars richer.

The smell of the cheap spray-in hair color was strong, but it was all Mick could manage in the short time between the call to Liliana and her announcement that she had arranged for Caterina’s much-needed therapy.

He pulled the Jeep up to the back door to the hospital. Liliana was waiting there with a gurney for Caterina. She didn’t need it, but with the change of hair color and a blanket strategically obscuring part of Caterina’s face, it was possible she wouldn’t be noticed as they wheeled her through the hospital corridors.

He only hoped his sister and whoever was helping her wouldn’t be punished for their assistance with the therapy.

He helped Caterina to the door and got her settled on the gurney.

“We’ll be on the third floor. Room 303,” Liliana said. The faster they got the procedure going, the more they lessened the risk of discovery.

Mick leaned down and tucked the blanket up around Caterina’s neck, covered part of her face and dropped a swift kiss on her cheek. “I’m going to park the car. I’ll just be a few minutes. Hang in there.”

Caterina nodded weakly and said, “I’m fine.”

She watched him race out the door and met Liliana’s concerned gaze.

“So how are you really feeling?” Liliana asked.

“Hot. My joints ache and I have pain here,” she said and covered her midsection in the spot right between where her ribs ended.

Liliana eased her hand beneath Caterina’s. Pressed slightly, causing Caterina to moan from the pressure.

“It could be your spleen. It probably can’t handle all the stress your system is in.”

Liliana walked to the foot of the gurney, bent, and pushed with all her might. The gurney slid against the polished hospital floor and then began to roll with her guiding it from behind. The
ding
as they approached the elevator bank was welcome, and they were soon on their way up.

Caterina closed her eyes and tried to ignore the assorted aches and pains in her body and the intense heat. When the gurney rolled to a stop, she opened her eyes.

Liliana was at her side with another young Latina in a light blue scrub suit. “This is Dr. Rojas. She’s a fellow doctor and a friend. She can be trusted.”

“Thank you,” Caterina said and the young woman nodded.

Dr. Rojas walked up to Caterina and held up a syringe connected to a long section of tubing. There was something familiar about it, and in the back of her brain Caterina realized she had seen something similar while in Wardwell’s care.

“We need to put one needle in each arm. We’ll also be giving you an IV with citrate to avoid coagulation while we’re processing your blood. That may interfere with your clotting for the next twenty-four hours, so try to avoid any strenuous activities and watch for excessive bruising.”

Caterina nodded and winced as the woman pierced a vein in her arm with the needle. The young doctor walked around and did the same in the other arm. As she did so she commented, “I see you’ve had this done before, and often, so you know this may take about two hours. Close your eyes and get some rest.”

Dr. Rojas patted her arm, the action slightly mechanical and stilted. She slipped a device over Caterina’s finger, and a machine a couple of feet away kicked to life.

“Thank you,” Caterina said and did as instructed, knowing rest was essential to rebuilding her strength.

Liliana approached her friend and clapped her on the back as she turned on the plasmapheresis unit. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

“Dead people are easier to handle,” Carmen teased while keeping her eye on the equipment to make sure it was working properly.

“Easier, but not as rewarding,
amiga
.”

A knock came at the door and Liliana walked over. She opened it to admit her brother, who scrutinized Caterina as she lay on the gurney, tubes running out of her arms and wires leading to the pulse oximeter that was keeping track of her heartbeat and the oxygen saturation in her blood.

“She’ll be okay, Mick. We’ll be extracting the remnants of the cell lysis and antibodies plus adding some sterile plasma substitutes to help stabilize her,” Liliana said.

Mick glanced at Carmen and held out his hand. “Mick Carrera. Liliana’s—”

“Brother,” her friend said as she shyly peered up at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Liliana.”

As he arched a brow, Carmen quickly confirmed, “All good things.”

“
Gracias
. I appreciate you helping us,” Mick replied.

Carmen nervously half-glanced at Liliana. “I know Liliana wouldn’t ask unless this was an emergency.”

“It is. You’re helping save her life,” Mick said.

Carmen nodded and faced Liliana. “I need to return to the lab, but I’ll check back in about an hour.”

Her friend left the room and Mick walked over to Liliana and hugged her.
“Gracias, hermanita.”

Liliana returned the embrace, and then went to where Caterina was resting on the gurney. She laid her hand over Caterina’s, waking her.

“How are you feeling?”

Caterina offered up a weak smile. “A little dizzy and my fingertips are numb.”

Liliana squeezed her hand. “That’s normal, but I’m going to check your blood pressure just in case.”

Mick came to Caterina’s side and laced his fingers with hers.
The smile Caterina offered him was brighter and there was a look in her eyes that Liliana couldn’t fail to notice.

Caterina was in love with her brother, she thought as she wheeled over the blood pressure machine. As she wrapped the cuff around Caterina’s arm, she half-looked at her brother as he stood by the gurney.

She couldn’t miss the look in his eyes, either.

Mick had feelings for Caterina. She couldn’t say love feelings because she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her brother truly in love. But she was sure that was more than a we’re-having-great-sex kind of look.

Which was so not good, Liliana thought as the blood pressure machine kicked to life, inflating the cuff and then shuddering and deflating it to calculate the blood pressure. As much as she liked Caterina, and as much as she’d love for her brother to settle down, nothing would be easy about this relationship.

“Your pressure is on the low side of normal, which is typical for this treatment. It’ll stabilize in a few hours,” Liliana said, inclined her head, and nodded to get her brother to meet her at the far side of the room.

Mick reluctantly left Caterina, and the anxious look on his face only confirmed Liliana’s earlier observation.

“She’s okay, right?” he whispered.

Okay
was not a word Liliana could use considering Caterina’s condition. She didn’t want to shatter her brother’s illusions, but he seemed to need a reality check. “She’ll be better. For a little while. Until she’ll need another dose of the inhibitor drug and this starts all over again. And then when you run out of the inhibitor drug…”