Lucy whispered, “How much does he know?”
Johnny rested his mouth next to ear and whispered so only she could hear. “I didn’t tell him about your gift. I promised I wouldn’t.”
“My gift?”
“Now she sounds like a normal woman,” Dusty said with a smile. “You better go buy her something other than flowers; Sunny keeps taking them out of here, anyway.” He dug in his front pants pocket and took out a cell phone. Whatever he read made him move away from the door. Sunny opened it, and she and other man came inside.
“I couldn’t find her.” Sunny jerked her thumb toward the door. “I need to examine my patient.”
“Did you want us to leave the room?” Johnny asked as he went around the foot of the bed.
“No. I’ll close the curtain.” Sunny slid a floor-length curtain suspended from the ceiling around the bed, blocking the view of the two men.
“I’m Dr. Penelope Pettigrew.” She took out her wallet and flashed her CIA identification. “And that’s Agent Sergio Mendez, my medic. We’ve been taking care of you since your name brought up an alert on our computer when you were admitted into the ER.”
“I thought your name was Sunny?” Lucy asked as her doctor ran a probe against Lucy’s temple, taking her temperature.
“That’s my nickname,” Sunny said with a sigh.
“How long have I been here? Johnny won’t tell me anything.”
“Good. I told him I’d shoot him if he said anything.”
“That’s just great.”
“Your temp’s normal.” Sunny retrieved her stethoscope from her pocket and placed the chest piece down inside the neckline of Lucy’s gown. “Shush now.” After a minute, she seemed satisfied. “Much better.”
“Doctor, how long have I been here?”
“Sergio, get me a clean gown.” Sunny stuffed the stethoscope into her pocket and sat Lucy up before untying the top lace. “You pulled out your catheter. Can you tell me what happened?”
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, stopping her gown from being removed. “No, I won’t!”
Johnny, and Dusty, and Sunny all asked in unison, “What?”
“Lucy—” Johnny said harshly.
“Agent James,” Sunny stated, stepping back a couple of steps.
“I will not answer any more questions until someone answers mine.” Lucy snatched the fresh gown from the amused medic’s hand.
Sunny frowned. “This kind of attitude isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
“No. It isn’t going to get
you
anywhere.”
Sunny placed her hands on her hips. “You’re stubborn.”
“You’re right,” Lucy said. “Now, if you’d just tell me why I was chloroformed.”
Sunny shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “Who did it to you?”
Lucy stopped her arguing and thought about what she said as more of her memory returned. “I … I was going back to my hotel because …” Johnny moved around the edge of the curtain and stood by the foot of the bed. “You have a black eye.” Lucy covered her mouth with her hand as she remembered the fight. “Oh, Johnny, you tried to save me, and you were hurt.”
“You saved my life,” he said as he sat down by her side. “You stayed conscious long enough to shoot the gun from the agent’s hand.”
“I remember.” Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
Johnny ran his hands along her bare back. “You’re not mad at me any more?”
“No, I’m not,” Lucy whispered into his neck. “Are you going to tell me how long I’ve been in here?”
“Four days.”
Lucy’s arms slid from his body, shocked by the time she lost. “Four days? Why?”
“There’s no explanation for why you were unconscious for so long. The chloroform isn’t that strong a sedative.”
“That’s why you weren’t knocked out immediately when you were attacked,” Dusty said.
“That’s right. It took a little time to work its way into your system,” Sunny added.
Johnny nodded. “Fortunately for me.”.
Sunny unfolded the clean gown. “I believe your body needed the time to recuperate from your concussion. That’s why you stayed asleep for so long.” She held out the gown and waited.
Johnny kissed Lucy’s mouth and got up. “I’ll be over there.” He pointed toward the curtain and walked around the foot of the bed.
While Lucy changed out of her wet dressing gown, Sergio spoke up. “There’s a switchblade knife lying on the floor.”
“Is it yours, Agent James?” Sunny asked.
“Call me Lucy. No, it belonged to the woman who attacked me.”
“And you were able to take it from her?”
Lucy nodded. “Indirectly. I hit it from her hand with the portable IV pole.”
Johnny said from behind the curtain, “She ran out of here with her cheek bleeding.”
“I caught her face on the backswing.”
“Nice,” Sergio said slowly.
“I wonder why she went after you with a knife?” Sunny asked as she tied the back of Lucy’s gown.
“It could be she was ticked off because I stopped her from injecting me with a drug.”
“She what?” Sergio asked.
“Explain.” Sunny pulled the curtain and tucked it back where it belonged.
Johnny sat down on the side of the bed and took Lucy’s hand as she spoke. “After that woman pushed Johnny out of the room, she said she needed to give me something for the pain of taking out the catheter, but I’ve had catheters removed before, and nobody ever gave me any painkiller. It’s just not needed. Besides, something about her bothered me. She called me Agent James, yet she didn’t identify herself.”
“Like Sunny just did,” Johnny said, nodding his head.
“That’s protocol,” Sunny added. “Lucy, where is this syringe now?”
“I slapped it out of her hand.” Lucy pointed next to her doctor. “It landed somewhere over there.”
Sunny began her search on the nightstand. When she tried to scoot the heavy table, Dusty stopped her.
“I’ll do it.” He lifted the table aside and revealed a single syringe with an exposed needle lying against the floorboard.
Sunny took a latex glove from the table top and gingerly picked it up. “Sergio—”
“Yes, Sunny.”
She stood up. “Cap this, bag it, and take it over to the agency and have the lab find out what’s inside. And see if there are any usable prints on it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sergio said, coming around the bed. “And, yes, I’ll hurry.” He took the needle and left the room.
“The woman wore gloves,” Lucy told them.
Sunny stood with her hands tucked in her pockets, staring at the closed door. “Here she did, but who knows when that syringe was filled.”
Johnny pulled up the blanket from the bottom of the bed and covered Lucy.
Dusty moved behind Sunny. “What is it?”
“I let my agent down. I should have been here instead of having lunch with you again,” she said pointedly. “I’ve let you become too much of a distraction to me over these past few days.”
Lucy said, “I must have been under surveillance. She chose this time intentionally, waiting for me to wake up. I just wished I knew what she wanted.”
Sunny lifted her shoulders. “We probably could speculate.” She went over and sat down on the bed opposite Lucy’s. “I was assigned not only to be your doctor, Lucy, but also to protect you. And I’m sorry for not doing my job better. I won’t let it happen again.”
Leaning forward, Sunny placed her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together. “I read your last report, and Johnny briefed me on what happened the morning you were brought into the hospital. The men who attacked you sounded like the same men who chased you on the freeway. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this woman tried to kill you.”
Lucy nodded. “You think she’s connected with the two agents who got my last package?”
“That would be my guess. But since she waited until you woke up before trying to inject you with something, I can only assume she wanted information from you, or she would have attempted to kill while you were still unconscious.” Shaking her head, Sunny softened her voice. “I can think of several times when she could have done it over the past four days.”
“But since you were awake, she underestimated what you were capable of doing, and she had to go with plan B,” Johnny said.
“Yeah, so she decided to slice me up, all because I destroyed the film so they couldn’t see what was on it.” Lucy sighed loudly.
“Or she believed you knew what was on that film, and she wanted to kill you so you couldn’t tell us,” Sunny said quietly.
“Well, that really sucks.” Lucy pulled up the covers as she moved to lie down. She looked at Johnny. “I need to get out of here.”
“What? No, you can’t leave.” He tenderly touched her face. “You need to rest for a few more days—”
“Johnny’s right.” Sunny leaned closer to Lucy, putting her hand on her shoulder. “I want you to rest another couple of days, just so I know you won’t have any complications—”
“Those creeps came after me three times now, all because of that stupid film.” Lucy shrugged Sunny away and sat up. “I’m not going to give them a fourth time to succeed.” Blowing out her frustration in a loud sigh, Lucy asked, “What do you suppose Gabe saw when he took those pictures? I need to find him and ask where and why he took them.”
“Lucy …” Sunny lowered her voice. “You can’t be poking around someone else’s mission.”
“It’s a given Gabe will have to retake the pictures.” Lucy began to peel away the tape on the back of her hand holding down the IV needle. “I’m going to offer my assistance on his mission—watch his back.” Looking up at Johnny, she asked, “What happened to the men we had the fight with?”
“Don’t do that, Lucy.” Johnny grabbed her wrists. “You’re going to bleed.”
“Then you do it. One way or another, it’s coming out, and I’m leaving.” Lucy heard Sunny make an odd sound, something between a sigh and a snort, as she got up from the bed. She clearly wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t going to stop her or even try to talk her out of leaving against medical advice. Sunny pinched off the IV to keep the fluid from dripping.
“Give me your hand.” Lucy held up her arm and Sunny stripped off the tape from Lucy’s hand, removing the needle before bandaging the hole.
“Johnny, do you know what happened to those men?” Lucy asked.
“The one you shot got away, but the police took the man you fought with.”
“Yeah, well,” Sunny said, skewing the needle through the plastic IV tubing still hanging from the machine, “I sent a couple of agents to go pick him up, but he never made it to the jail.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
“The squad car was in an accident on the way over to the county jail. According to witnesses, his car was run off the road and hit a tree head on. The cop was injured and his prisoner was gone before another cop could get there.”
Dusty said, “I have a feeling it wasn’t an accident.”
“No.” Sunny put her hands in her jacket pockets. “The woman who called in the incident told the dispatcher that a dark SUV took out the cop car and then stopped and grabbed the prisoner from the backseat.”
“Good time for a jailbreak,” Lucy said.
“So they’re both still out there?” Johnny asked.
“I’m going to need your help, Sunny.” Lucy watched her face closely. “I need a ride over to the agency. I need to check out a sat phone and then get Gabe’s phone number.”
“I can take you there,” Johnny said. “If that’s where you want to go.”
Lucy leaned forward and pressed her face against his. “It’s not so safe being around me right now.”
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled Lucy closer. Johnny whispered into her ear, “I can help you. I can make sure you have your window if they come after you again.”
Lucy shook her head at Johnny but directed her next statement at Sunny. “Could we be alone?” Sunny glanced over at the window. “I promise not to escape,” Lucy held up one hand with two fingers extended together.
“When did you have time to be a Girl Scout?” Johnny asked.
“I was a Brownie, and I was six.” Lucy smiled.
“Okay,” Sunny said. “Then you should remember to hold up three fingers and use your right hand if you want to keep your promise.”
“Crimany,” Lucy mumbled, making a fist out of her fingers. Sunny left anyway with Dusty following closely. Lucy figured they were standing just outside the door, but Lucy had no interest in shimmying out the window. “Johnny, just because you’re touching me doesn’t mean that I can see a window around me if I’m the only one going to die, remember?”
“Sorry.” Johnny’s lips got a small grin on them. “I got confused.”
With her hand on his face, Lucy whispered, “Sure you did.”
“I still want to drive you.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked toward the bathroom “I need a shower.”
“Leave—”
“Yes,” Lucy said, sighing softly. “I’ll leave the door open.”
Jim Brockway stepped out of his office and headed down the hall toward the cafeteria. Being the assistant director of the LA CIA office for the past two years, he’d eaten there every day since being transferred from Houston, sometimes twice a day, but he was always alone. Nobody dared interrupt his concentration when he had a report lying next to his salad plate or stop him from reading a new procedure book while he enjoyed his spaghetti. He disliked small talk, and he hated talking about himself. It was much better to eat alone.