Dreams Die First (33 page)

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said.

But she was already off on another track. “That’s why when I came in, the first thing he said to me was that I didn’t see you. That it was an hallucination. Even before I told him the truth.” She sat up suddenly. “You mustn’t let them take me back! No matter what they say to you.”

“I won’t.”

“They’ll keep me in transit for days.” Her voice began to rise to a scream. “I’ll go crazy if they do that. I can’t take any more!”

The doorbell rang and she leaped from the bed. I caught her just before she went out the window. Hysterically she fought me. “I won’t go back!” she screamed.

Over my shoulder I caught a glimpse of the doctor, a small man with a neatly trimmed mustache and the standard black bag. “No one’s come for you,” I said soothingly. “It’s only the doctor.”

She stopped fighting. I led her back to the bed and she got in and pulled the sheet up around her. The doctor came toward the bed. He put a hand under Denise’s chin and looked into her eyes. He said something to Marissa in Spanish.

“The doctor wants you to lie down,” she said.

Denise looked at me. I nodded. She lay back against the pillows.

Slowly the doctor lifted the sheet and looked at her. He spoke again and Marissa translated. “He says that she will need a shot against infection and he will give us a salve for her cuts. He says also that she needs rest. She is on the verge of hysterical exhaustion.”

“I don’t want a shot,” Denise said. “They’ll take me away while I’m sleeping.”

“No one will take you,” I said. “I’ll be with you every minute.”

She looked at Eileen. “You too?”

Eileen nodded. “Yes, baby. Me too.”

“I don’t want to go back into transit.”

“The only place you’re going is home with me,” I said.

Denise looked at the doctor. “Okay.”

“Roll over on your stomach,” Marissa said, translating the doctor’s instructions.

She got an injection in each buttock. Then the doctor took a tube of ointment out of the little black bag. By the time he finished putting the ointment on her she was fast asleep.

“The doctor says she will sleep for six to eight hours. He says that she needs the rest and that we should not wake her up,” Marissa said. “He also thinks she’s had a bad reaction to mescaline and that she may be suffering from a toxic psychosis. She may need further specialized treatment because some forms of this drug get into the system and have a long-term effect even without additional use.”

“Tell the doctor I will see to it that she is properly taken care of,” I said.

“He says that he will come around noon tomorrow to see her,” Marissa translated.

“Thank you.
Muchas gracias
,” I said to the doctor.

The doctor bowed quickly and walked out of the room. Marissa saw him to the front door, then returned to the bedroom.

Eileen straightened the covers over Denise. Then she turned off the beside lights and we went into the other room.

“The doctor says there have been several other cases like this at the Retreat,” Marissa said. “Twice he has had to put them into a hospital.”

“What does he think causes it?”

“He says that everyone out there is on drugs. And some of them do not know how to handle it. They take too much.”

But, I thought to myself, maybe they didn’t take it. Maybe it was given to them without their knowledge. The boy had told me they were given four sticks a day. “Any chance of getting a cup of coffee at this hour?” I asked.

Marissa smiled. “Easy. There’s American instant coffee in the kitchen. I’ll boil some water.”

Eileen waited until she had left the room. “What do you think is happening out there?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But you can be sure I’m going to see Reverend Sam about it when I get back.”

We had almost finished our coffee when we heard the sound of cars drawing up outside. A moment later the doorbell rang.

Brother Jonathan was standing on the threshold with two young men in the khaki garb of the Retreat. Behind them I saw several of Carillo’s guards; two of them had Dobermans on leashes.

“Brother Jonathan,” I said. “Peace and love.”

He started through the doorway, but I stepped in his path, blocking his entrance. He paused. “Peace and love, Gareth,” he said. “We’re looking for Denise. Have you seen her?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God!” he exclaimed. “We were so worried about her. She’s been missing since eight o’clock this evening. Is she with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Now we can take her back.”

“No,” I said.

There was an edge of surprise in his voice. “But she’s very ill. She needs help. She’s on a bad trip. I have a doctor standing by at the Retreat to help her.”

“I’ve already had a doctor here. He advised me not to move her under any circumstances.”

He fell silent for a moment, then asked, “May I see her?”

“She’s asleep.”

“I’ll leave my two men here to help take care of her.”

“It won’t be necessary. I have help.”

He made a gesture with his hands. “Okay then. You seem to have everything under control. We’ll be back for her in the morning.”

“You can save yourself the trip. She’s not going back. She’s coming home with me.”

“She can’t do that!”

“Why not, Brother Jonathan?” I asked politely. “As I understand it, anyone can leave anytime.” I recognized one of the young men standing behind him. “Wasn’t it you who told me that each of you always carries a return ticket?”

The boy didn’t speak. Brother Jonathan’s voice grew harsh. “Now you’re making it very difficult for me. I’m personally responsible to Reverend Sam for everyone here. And I can’t allow her to leave until I get an okay from our doctors.”

I saw Bobby and Dieter coming toward us. They were at the door in time to hear me say, “Then I’ll put in a call to Reverend Sam right now and get an okay.”

“What’s happening?” Bobby asked.

“Brother Jonathan says I need an okay from your father to bring Denise home.”

“Is she here?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes. She said she wants to come home with us.”

Bobby looked at Brother Jonathan. “She has the right to go home and she doesn’t need anyone’s permission. Not even my father’s. You know that.”

“But she’s ill. She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” he protested.

“You know the rules. A free choice made by a free will. My father wouldn’t like it if that rule were broken.”

Brother Jonathan backed down. “We’ll return in the morning. I want to talk to her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to speak to you?” I asked.

“She’ll talk to me,” he said grimly.

“Brother Jonathan, you’re beginning to sound more and more like the cop you used to be.”

He glared at me and turned away. He spoke to the armed guards in Spanish. They nodded and went back to their cars.

“Brother Jonathan,” I called, “haven’t you forgotten something?”

He turned to look at me.

“Peace and love,” I said.

CHAPTER 46

I couldn’t sleep. I sat outside in the patio, watching the sun come up. The butler arrived at seven o’clock. He smiled. “
Desayuno?
Breakfast?”

Suddenly I was starved. “
Sí.
”

I was in the middle of ham steak and eggs when a shadow fell across the table.

Lonergan smiled. “You had a busy night.”

I swallowed a mouthful of food. “You heard?”

He nodded. “I saw Dieter this morning.”

“What do you think?”

“You haven’t really changed. You’re still playing Sir Galahad. Chasing lost causes.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The girl’s a doper,” he said flatly. “Dieter told me it’s not the first time she’s freaked out.”

“She wasn’t a doper when she came down here. Whatever happened happened since she got here.”

He dropped into the chair opposite me. The butler brought him a cup of coffee. “I suppose you haven’t had much time to think about the proposition?”

“Not really.”

“May I offer an opinion?”

“I would appreciate it,” I said, taking another piece of the ham steak.

“I don’t see how you can lose on the deal. If you just break even, you make money.”

“How’s that?”

“Your investment comes out of the States and is deducted from federal income taxes, so that the net cost to you is only about fifty cents on the dollar. If you break even on the operation and leave the money here, you’ve already got a fifty percent profit. And if the operation makes a profit, you’re way ahead.”

“You make it sound easy. What if we don’t break even?”

“You can’t lose that much,” he replied. “What’s fifty percent of fifty percent?”

I finished the eggs and picked up my coffee. “I have another problem. Personnel. There’s no one in my organization who knows anything about hotel operation.”

“Dieter says he will stay on. And I found out that the general manager of the Princess in the Bahamas wants to make a move.”

“Is he good?”

“Very good. In case we do get gambling, he’s got casino experience. He once worked at the Mayfair in London. He’ll come for sixty thousand a year and one-quarter of one percent of the hotel profit.”

“How do you know?”

“I had him on the phone this morning.”

“You’re not wasting time.”

“Can’t afford to,” he said. “I’m not getting any younger.”

I got to my feet and walked to the edge of the patio, my coffee cup in hand. I looked out over the ocean, then back at the hotel and the mountains behind it. It was really beautiful. I came back to the table. “You really like it?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I wasn’t wrong when I urged you to go into the clubs, was I?”

“No.”

“You’re putting together experience. The clubs, this hotel, Atlantic City when it opens. Who knows? Maybe even Vegas. Never can tell when something might break there. Then it becomes real money.”

“Uncle John, you’re a greedy man. I think all you want is for me to make you rich.”

He smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

My mind was made up. “Okay. Let’s give it a spin.”

“You mean you’ll take it?”

I nodded. “You convinced me. You can tell them we’ve got a deal.”

He held out his hand. “Good luck.”

I took it. “To both of us.”

Eileen came out of the cottage. She paused when she saw Uncle John and pulled the robe closer around her. “Gareth.”

“Congratulate us,” I said. “We’re in the hotel business.”

It didn’t register. There was concern in her voice. “I just went in to look at Denise. She’s burning up with fever.”

We went into the bedroom. Denise’s face was white and there were beads of perspiration running down her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed and her body was shivering under the blanket. I sat down on the bed beside her. “Get me a washcloth and some rubbing alcohol.”

“We don’t have any alcohol,” Eileen said.

“Toilet water then. And while I’m sponging her down, get on the phone and call the doctor.”

I worked quickly. In Nam I had seen soldiers come down with fevers like this. Sometimes it was malaria, sometimes paratyphoid. I heard Eileen talking to Marissa in the other room, then Marissa’s voice on the phone.

Eileen came back into the room. “Anything I can do?”

“Yes,” I said, pulling down the sheets. “Tell the maid to bring dry sheets.”

I lifted her from the bed and covered her with a blanket while they changed the sheets. She weighed almost nothing. I hadn’t noticed how much weight she had lost. I put her back on the bed when they had finished.

I turned to see Lonergan watching me with an inscrutable expression. “I’ll go up to the hotel and let them know of your decision.”

“Okay.” I followed him into the living room.

Marissa came toward us. “The doctor is on his way.”

I sprawled in an easy chair and leaned my head back. The lack of sleep had finally caught up with me.

“What time would you like to meet with them?” Lonergan asked.

I shook my head to clear it. Everything seemed an effort. “You handle it. I’ll try to see them before I leave.”

He nodded and went out. I closed my eyes and slept. I couldn’t have been out for long when I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Gareth.” Eileen’s voice was soft. “Wake up. The doctor wants to talk with you.”

I fought my way out of the fog. “Get me a cup of coffee.” The butler brought it immediately. It helped but not enough. I opened the small drawer and snorted two spoons. My head cleared immediately. I went into the bedroom.

Denise was still sleeping. The doctor’s face was very serious. He spoke rapidly and Marissa translated for him.

“She is a very sick girl. She is suffering from malnutrition, as well as some form of viral dysentery which has caused her to lose considerable fluids. It is possible that she is also running a fever from an infection, either traumatic or viral or both. He recommends that she be hospitalized immediately.”

“Where is the nearest hospital?” I asked.

“La Paz,” Marissa answered. “He can call for the ambulance plane.”

La Paz was two hundred miles away. “How long would it take?”

“The plane could be here this afternoon,” she said.

“Call the airstrip and find out if my plane is ready to take off now.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed while Marissa phoned. “Is there anything you can do now?” I asked the doctor.

He looked blank. He didn’t understand a word I was saying. Marissa came back. “They can be ready to leave within the hour.”

“Tell them to be ready,” I said.

Marissa nodded and went back to the phone. “They’ll be ready,” she said.

“Good. Now ask the doctor if there is anything he can do for her now?”

“The only thing he suggests is getting some saline solution into her. He doesn’t want to use any medication until he runs some tests.”

I nodded.

“The doctor asks if there is room for him to accompany her on the plane. He would like to make sure that her condition remains stable.”

“Tell him I would be grateful.”

“May I come, too?” she asked.

“Of course.”

The doctor spoke to Marissa, then turned and left. “He’s going to his pharmacy and get some bottles of saline solution. He’ll be back in time to go to the airstrip with us.”