Chapter 14
Emory clutched the strap above the passenger window as the pickup took a curve. They were on the same dark and icy road as before, this time ascending, which made the navigation even more difficult. But in addition to the perilous roadway, she worried about being pursued.
They’d been in and out of the doctor’s office within five minutes. The man who had engineered the break-in had held a flashlight and monitored not only what she was doing, but had kept watch through the windows to make certain that no one had been alerted to the break-in.
She’d collected instruments, supplies, and medications she thought she might need and had placed them in a plastic trash can liner to bring with her. No one accosted them when they left. They drove out of town the same way they’d driven in: unobserved.
Or so she hoped. The third time she turned her head to look out the cab window at the road behind them, he said, “Relax, Doc. There’s no posse chasing us.”
“Since I’m new to thievery, I’m a bit nervous. How did you know there wasn’t an alarm system in the doctor’s office?”
“I didn’t.”
Stark with disbelief, she said, “What would have happened if an alarm had sounded? We would have been caught.”
“No we wouldn’t.”
“You think we could have slipped out of that sleepy little town in this large and conspicuous pickup truck?”
“Yes.”
“Impossible.”
“No it isn’t. I’ve done it.”
She didn’t know whether to be shocked by his admission or comforted to know he had a knack for eluding capture. “I still can’t believe that you—that I—broke the law.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve more than compensated for our minor B and E tonight.”
She gave him a pointed look, and he answered her unasked question.
“There’s a lot online about your philanthropy.”
“Is that why you called me a do-gooder?”
“You don’t need to go to Haiti or organize fund-raisers to help someone in need. You’ve got a girl right here.”
“If she’s as you described, she needs an ER.”
“I offered to take her. She refused to go.”
“Why?”
He concentrated on climbing a steep grade, downshifting and steering with care, but Emory thought he used that as an excuse not to answer her.
“Why did she refuse?” she repeated.
“She’s scared.”
“Of what? Doctors? Hospitals?”
“When we get there, you can ask her.”
“When we get there, I’m calling nine-one-one.”
“Good luck with that.”
“You’d stop me?”
“They would.”
“The brothers?”
He muttered what sounded to her like fucking hillbillies.
“If that’s your opinion of the Floyd family, why did you get involved with them?”
“Would you rather the girl suffer?”
“Of course not.” Knowing she was treading on thin ice, she said, “But I think the situation with her has given you a valid reason to engage with them. It’s an opportunity you didn’t expect, but you’re seizing it. Tell me if I’m getting warm.”
His gloved fingers flexed against the steering wheel before resuming their grip, but he didn’t say anything.
“You’ve locked horns with them before.”
“No. I haven’t.”
“I don’t believe you. You said—”
“Look, Doc, you could speculate till you turn blue, and you’d still be wrong. All you need to know is that I gave Lisa my word that I’d bring back help. I keep my word.”
“You gave me your word that you’d take me back, yet here I am.”
“I’ll see you safely back. Just not tonight.”
“No, tonight you were too busy burglarizing a doctor’s office and making me your accomplice.”
“I forced you to at gunpoint.”
“Not exactly.”
“Close enough. If the need ever arises, you can lay all the blame on me.”
“How? I don’t even know your name.”
He glanced at her. “You’re beginning to catch on.”
He spoke rather tongue-in-cheek, but there was truth in the statement. When she did go home, how would she ever explain him, explain any of this? Everything that had taken place since she regained consciousness in his rustic cabin seemed beyond the realm of possibility.
These kinds of adventures simply didn’t happen to people like her. In her wide circle of acquaintances, no one she knew had experienced such an unthinkable departure from their world and their ordered life within it. Was bizarre the new norm? It seemed so, because reality had become surreal.
Or was this reality? Had she really burglarized a doctor’s office? Was her fellow criminal a man who’d admitted to being in hiding from the authorities? Had she eaten from his table, used the bar soap in his shower, worn his clothes, come perilously close to making love to him?
Or would she soon wake up and find herself lying next to Jeff in their well-decorated, climate-controlled bedroom where the temperature remained constant year-round, where one day and night were more or less the same as the ones before and the ones after, where nothing too cataclysmic ever happened? Would she shake him awake, and laugh, and say, “You won’t believe the wild and woolly dream I had.”
But that scenario was difficult to envision. She couldn’t pull it into sharp focus. Details of it—the texture of her favorite sheets, the color of the bedroom walls, the sound of Jeff’s soft snores—were disturbingly indistinct, while the profile of the man beside her was shockingly familiar.
She couldn’t call him by name, but she could describe the crescent-shaped scar above his left eyebrow. His silver-threaded hairline, the lines bracketing his mouth, the ever-changing facets of his eyes—these were only a few of the many aspects of him that had become well known to her.
His voice, which at first had seemed without inflection, could be very expressive if one knew the nuances to listen for. He could whisper, when one would think that a man of his size was incapable of speaking that softly. He never failed to fold the dishtowel after using it. When he sat in his recliner to read, he mindlessly stroked the corner of his lips with his thumb, and after adding a log to the grate, he always dusted his hands on the seat of his jeans.
He’d turned her into a criminal tonight. A week ago, she would have been flabbergasted by the prospect of such a thing. But as she considered it now, she realized she wasn’t as scandalized as she should be.
When they came around a curve in the road and there was the familiar split-rail fence, the gate, his cabin, the thought that flitted through her mind was, We’re home.
She was accepting of and comfortable with the outrageousness of her situation. That, more than anything, should have frightened her.
He slowed down. “Should we stop? Is there anything you need from inside?”
“I don’t think so.”
For days she’d wanted to escape his cabin. Now anxiety tugged at her as they drove past the relative safety it represented. “Regardless of my objections, I want you to know that I do think it’s noble of you to help this young woman,” she said. “I even admire the extremes to which you’ve gone in order to help her.”
He didn’t respond, sensing there was more she had to say.
“But this isn’t my specialty and I’m ill-equipped. And if her condition is as serious as you indicate, despite her scary brothers, despite you, I’ll do whatever is necessary to get her to a hospital.”
“She won’t go, Doc. I told you. She was in Drakeland this morning. She could have gone to any number of clinics. She didn’t. She called her brothers to come get her and bring her home. They were on their way when they wrecked the truck.”
“Are the brothers expecting us?”
“I got their grudging consent to bring back a doctor. Took some persuasion from their mother.”
“There’s a mother?”
“She introduced herself as Pauline. Don’t hold the sons against her. She’s pathetic, beaten down. She’s very worried about Lisa.”
Up ahead she caught a glimpse of lights through the trees. “Is that it?”
“That’s it.”
“So they are close neighbors.”
“I already admitted to lying about that. Now, pay attention. This is important. I can’t turn my back on those guys. So if I say ‘git,’ you go, understand? No questions, no arguments, no hesitation. You just do what I say, when I say.”
“Are they really that dangerous?”
He clenched his jaw, and the ferocity of his expression was chilling. “They’re stupid and mean, and that makes them dangerous.” He patted in the vicinity of his waist. “I’ve got the pistol handy.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“What should make you feel better is that I won’t hesitate to use it.”
He stated it unequivocally, and she believed him.
“You’ll be okay,” he said, as though sensing her mounting apprehension. “One more thing, though. They don’t know that you’re my…guest. Better that they don’t know you’re staying under my roof.”
“Better for whom?”
He braked. The truck skidded several yards before coming to a stop in the center of the road. Laying his arm along the back of the seat, he turned to her. “Better for you,” he said angrily. “Don’t use them to get away from me.”
In a small voice, she said, “I was joking.”
“It’s no joking matter. Do not ask for their help.”
“I won’t.”
“Swear it, Doc.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
He continued to stare hard at her, then lifted his foot off the brake and drove on. A quarter mile farther, he turned into a drive that was rutted and strewn with junk of every description. Even the softening effect of the snow didn’t hide the ugly scars of neglect and disrepair. Lights were on inside the house, but nothing about the property looked inviting.
Especially not the dog that charged out the front door and set up a ferocious barking. He looked like a guardian of hell as he came up on his hind legs against the passenger door of the pickup, his nails scratching against the metal. Only the window separated Emory from his bared, snapping teeth. Breathless with fear, she flattened herself against the seat.
“Oh, I forgot,” he said. “There’s also a mean dog.”
*