“You need to turn yourself in, Pool,” Raoul said. “It will be easier on you if you do that.”
“I’ll put arrangements in hand to have Romney picked up,” Parker said. “He still works for Pool, but at the Pentagon now.”
“Just don’t let him anywhere near us,” Raoul growled.
“A ruined career for a louse who didn’t deserve it and a daughter with no self-respect,” Zeke muttered as Agent Parker escorted Pool from the ranch.
“Do you have a secure outside line?” Hassan asked.
Raoul flexed a brow. “What do you think?” he replied, handing Hassan the handset.
“Who’s he calling?” Cantara asked as Raoul sat beside her and took her hand.
“Shush, just watch.”
“Rachel?” Hassan asked, ignoring Levi’s gasp. “It’s Colonel Hassan. How are you? Just fine, thanks. I’m in the States right now and there’s someone here who needs to talk to you.”
With tears pouring down his face, David Levi took the receiver from Hassan with a shaking hand and spoke to the wife he adored for the first time in three years.
Chapter Fifteen
That afternoon, Raoul and Zeke drove Cantara into Cheyenne for her appointment at the hospital.
“It’s a pretty drive,” Cantara said, watching the passing scenery from her position sandwiched between the guys on the bench seat of their truck.
“That it is, darlin’,” Zeke agreed, but he was looking at Cantara, not the view.
“Nature on steroids this time of year,” Raoul agreed.
He would be looking at Cantara, too, if he hadn’t been driving. He still sneaked frequent peaks in her direction whenever the road was clear. He didn’t seem able to stop looking at her, just to convince himself they really did have her back. This time for keeps.
He pulled into the hospital parking lot and it wasn’t long before the three of them were ushered into Sanford’s consulting rooms. A nurse checked Cantara’s vital signs and then said Dr. Sanford would be right with them.
“Well, Cantara,” Sanford said, striding into the room a short time later, beaming as though he took personal credit for her recovery. “I hear it’s good news.”
“It certainly is,” she replied, shaking his outstretched hand.
“You look much better than when I saw you last.”
She bit her lip, presumably to prevent herself from explaining what had put the sparkle back in her eye. Wouldn’t do to frighten the horses, Raoul thought, stifling a smile of his own. He caught Cantara’s eye and flashed her a warning look. He didn’t want to think what mischief she might be capable of causing when she got that devilish look in her eye. He knew her game. She was trying to earn herself punishment credits. He shook his head, full of admiration for his feisty wife’s ability to bounce back with spirit and verve so soon after her ordeal.
To Raoul’s relief and her evident amusement, she told Sanford how everything had come flooding back, thanks to a throwaway comment he had made.
“That’s just great. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Recollection by association. The psychologists call it disassociation, which is what happened to you. Your conscious mind protected itself by retreating to a safe place to survive the trauma of your captivity. Do you want to tell me what happened to you, or aren’t you ready to talk about it yet?”
“I don’t mind telling you.”
She gave an abridged, sanitized version of her suffering at the hands of her delusional brother-in-law. Raoul grasped her hand and squeezed it encouragingly, figuring Sanford must know what he was doing in getting her talking about it.
“No wonder your mind couldn’t cope,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I’m glad to see you don’t seem to be permanently damaged by your ordeal.” How the fuck can he be so sure? “Now then, I want to take some blood, run some more tests, and get you to have another CAT scan, just to make absolutely sure we haven’t missed anything, if that’s okay with you.”
Cantara shrugged. “Sure, but I feel fine.”
“No more headaches?”
“Well, it’s early days yet. I only recovered my memory a couple of days ago, but so far there have been none.”
“Okay then, let’s get this done.”
The blood was taken, then the nurse asked Cantara to follow her. “She’ll not be long,” she told the guys.
“No problem. We’ll be in the waiting room,” Zeke replied.
Cantara was taken to a cubicle where she was invited to strip off and don the ubiquitous hospital gown. Once she had done so, the nurse told her to take a seat in the anti-room and that someone would be right with her. Another gowned woman sat there, flipping through a magazine as she waited. She and Cantara nodded to one another—kindred spirits in unflattering clothing—but didn’t speak. An orderly popped his head around the door and called the other woman.
“I’ll be right back for you, ma’am,” he said to Cantara. “You’re our last victim this morning.”