TRAPPED (17 page)

She got up and left without a backward glance at Brody. The door closed and he heard the turn of the lock. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. But he could not rest. Energy was churning within him. His timing was going to have to be perfect. He would only have one chance.

* * *

A
T
EXACTLY
ELEVEN
o’clock, Brody heard his door lock flip. When the door opened, it was Felipe. “Let’s go,” he said.

They walked the length of the hall and then down the stairs. Felipe led him into the same room where he’d worked earlier. Elle and Maria were already there. So was Jamas and his mother. The room had been cleaned and Brody suspected that Maria had done it. Instruments were laid out. He inspected them. Again, this had to be Maria’s work and she’d done a good job.

Brody motioned for Jamas to assist his mother in getting up on the exam table that was about to be turned into an operating table once again. The woman seemed frightened to death.

He looked the woman in the eye. “I want to assure you that I’m an experienced orthopedic surgeon and that this is going to go really well. You’ll be taking a walk down the hall on your new knees by tomorrow.”

“I am not afraid. I am tired of living with the pain.”

“I understand. You’re going to be awake for the surgery, but you’re not going to feel a thing. I’m going to give you a mild sedative and then a regional anesthetic. It’s called an epidural. It will numb everything from the waist down. Do you understand?”

She nodded, then shifted her eyes toward Felipe. He smiled at her.

“After the surgery,” Brody continued, “we’ll control your pain. Do you have any questions for me?”

The woman shook her head. “I am grateful for your help.”

He wanted everybody grateful and happy and very celebratory. So far, Jamas had not played into his plan. He was going to have to improvise. “When this is over, we’ll all have a drink.”

“I have a glass of wine every day,” she whispered, as if she was confiding some big secret.

“Good for you. I was thinking more along the lines of that tea your son was drinking earlier. It smelled delicious. My mother used to drink tea that smelled just like that.”

The woman looked at her son. “T.K. has always loved his tea. His father and I were coffee drinkers. I’m sure he’d be happy to share a cup.”

Brody hoped so.

He walked over to the sink and scrubbed his hands and arms. Then he pulled on gloves. He motioned for Elle and Maria to follow the same routine.

“Ready, ladies?” he asked.

* * *

T
HE
SURGERY
WENT
WELL
. Damaged bone and cartilage were cut away and the implants set in place, to insure that the kneecap would move fluidly and without pain. Elle held up well, and he made sure to give her small tasks to do during the surgery. Felipe and Jamas stood quietly near the wall and did not interfere.

Maria anticipated what he would need. It almost made him angry. She was a very talented nurse. Yet she was squandering her gift on the likes of Jamas. It made no sense to him, but then again, he wasn’t responsible for the financial welfare of four children.

After closing the surgical site, he stepped back. He took off his gloves and reached for Rita’s hand.

“We’re done,” he said.

She nodded, still slightly under the effects of the medication he’d given her.

“Everything looks good,” he said. He turned to look at Felipe and Jamas. “She did very well. I don’t expect any complications. We’ll need to watch her carefully for the next several hours. She may suffer some limited nausea from the anesthetic.”

“Maria can watch her.”

No, that wouldn’t work. “If you prefer. She can be moved to her own room where she’ll be more comfortable. She will need to be monitored for blood clots,” Brody added, trying to give them something to consider.

Felipe and Jamas spoke in Portuguese. Brody was really getting a little tired of them doing that.

Their conversation was short. “Maria can clean up in here. Felipe will go with you to my mother’s room,” Jamas said. “I will return Elle to her room and join you later.”

Brody wished he could think of an excuse to keep Elle with him, but there just wasn’t anything that wasn’t going to create suspicion and put his entire plan at risk.

“I’d appreciate a cup of that tea that we talked about earlier. I don’t want to get sleepy.”

Jamas shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I think you’ve earned a cup, Doctor.”

Chapter Seventeen

Elle and Jamas did not speak as he walked her down the hallway. She was so anxious that she felt as if she was going to jump out of her own skin.

Brody had told her that he had a plan.

Throughout the surgery, she’d been waiting for some sign, but there hadn’t been anything unusual. At least not that she could see. He’d been calm, very methodical in his approach, giving direction to both her and Maria in a very gentle tone.

He’d been kind to Rita Jamas. That hadn’t surprised her. Brody would not take out his feelings about Jamas or Felipe on Rita. He wasn’t that type of man.

When the operation was over, she’d desperately wanted to say something to him and tell him how absolutely wonderful he’d been. She’d wanted to tell him that she loved him. She’d wanted to tell him goodbye. Because whatever his plan had been, it didn’t appear to have worked out the way he’d intended.

“You’d have made a fine nurse, Elle,” Jamas said, unlocking her door.

She didn’t acknowledge the comment. She just walked into the empty room and stood against the far wall.

“Tell me where Mia is,” he said, his voice quiet. “Make this easier on yourself.”

She kept her lips pressed together.

Jamas waited.

He walked closer. Raised his hand. Slapped her across the face hard. Her head hit the wall.

“You’re a fool, Elle,” he said, his voice hard. “Your buyer will be here in just a few hours. Compared to him, I’m a pussycat. I’m going to get enjoyment in the future thinking about you, Elle. Imagining your life, if you want to call it that.”

He turned and left the room and she heard the door lock.

She swallowed hard, afraid that she would throw up. He’d hit her on the same side as before. The already tender skin throbbed.

Time was running out.

* * *

B
RODY
GOT
R
ITA
settled in her bed. “I’m going to give her a little something for the pain,” he said. He dumped two pills out of the bottle that he’d carried from the clinic. There was a carafe of water and a glass on her bedside table. He poured her a glass and helped her take her pills.

Felipe stood next to the bed, holding Rita’s hand.

“I’ll talk to Maria about the exercises she should do to aid her recovery,” Brody said. “Before I leave in the morning.” He had to keep acting as if he still believed that they were going to let him walk out once it got light outside.

Felipe did not respond. Brody wondered if it was possible that the man actually felt somewhat bad that Brody had held up his end of the bargain while Jamas and Felipe had no intention of holding up theirs. Did he have a conscience? Or had that slowly eroded away as he’d done one bad thing after another over the years?

After about ten minutes, the door opened. Jamas came in, carrying a tray. On it were three cups. He set down the tray and handed one cup to Felipe. “Coffee for you,” he said. He handed the other cup to Brody. “And tea for you. Black tea with orange and a hint of clove,” he said. “One of my favorites.”

Then Jamas took the other chair, as if they were old friends visiting. “How is my mother?” he asked, before taking a sip out of his own cup.

“I think she’s doing okay,” Brody said, letting a little concern sneak into his voice.

Jamas sat up in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“I gave her a mild sedative before administering the epidural. Her breathing appears to be a bit labored now and she’s not waking up as I’d hoped. I’ve seen this before with patients who are very sensitive to pain medication. It might be helpful if you talked to her. Patients can hear far into states of unconsciousness. Tell her something she’d be really interested in. Something that will stimulate her.”

Jamas got up and stood next to Felipe. On the topic of Rita Jamas’s health, the two men were united. They cared very deeply for her.

“Mama, it’s T.K.,” he said, his voice soft. “I planned our trip, you know, the one to the beach. I got us a lovely villa and they tell me the sunsets are...”

Brody tuned him out. He casually reached into the pocket of the blue lab coat that he still wore and then reached for his cup. In the process, he passed his hand over Jamas’s cup.

After several minutes, he stood up and joined the men at the bed. Rita Jamas was still sleeping. It was no wonder given the medication that Brody had given her. It wouldn’t hurt her, but the woman wasn’t likely to be waking up for some time.

“She’s not waking up,” Jamas said, his tone concerned.

Brody used a stethoscope to check her lungs. “It’s okay. She’s breathing better,” he said. “I think that worked.”

Jamas nodded and backed away from the bed. He took his seat. “My mother has always loved the ocean,” he said. “I do not think she would have been able to make the trip this year. But now I am confident that she will.”

“There are no bad times at the beach,” Brody said. He took a sip of tea and sighed in appreciation. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Ten minutes later, he sensed movement next to him. He opened them just a slit.

Jamas had his hand on his abdomen, and his face had a pinched look. He said something to Felipe in Portuguese and made a quick exit out of the room.

Brody didn’t need an interpreter. He knew where Jamas was headed. Where he’d be for the next thirty minutes.

Brody pulled the thermometer out of his pocket. “I’m going to check her vital signs,” he said.

Felipe stepped back. Brody took Rita’s temperature. Then reached into the pocket of his lab coat to pull out the stethoscope that he’d stuffed there.

He put his fingers around Mrs. Hardy’s knife and turned fast. In one smooth movement, he had it up against Felipe’s throat.

“Be quiet,” he said. “Or I’ll kill you first and her second.”

“No,” Felipe pleaded, likely more for Rita than himself.

“Lie on the floor,” Brody instructed.

When the man did, Brody placed his boot in the middle of his back. Then he took the sheet off the bed, sliced it into strips, and used it to tie the man’s hands together. He yanked Felipe to his feet and walked him over to the chair. “Sit down,” Brody said. He tied his feet together, then he took his longest strip and tied Felipe into the chair itself.

Cotton bedsheets were not the strongest material, but he’d been an Eagle Scout and knew how to tie a knot that wouldn’t slip.

Finally, he took a small strip and gagged the man.

The last thing he did was remove the ring of keys from Felipe’s belt.

He took a final look at Rita. “Good luck with the recovery, Rita.” He hoped she’d soon be getting lots of exercise visiting her son in prison.

He opened the door a crack. He had not seen any of Jamas’s other men all night and he hoped that they were safely away from the property. He ran down the hallway, knife in hand.

While he didn’t know exactly which room was Elle’s, he was confident he knew the hallway. He didn’t think it was the hallway that led to the basement and the clinic, or the hallway that led to Rita’s room. That left two. He decided that it wasn’t going to be the one leading to the kitchen—too much foot traffic would go by.

He chose the remaining one and knocked on the last door on the right side. “Elle,” he whispered.

No answer. He debated whether he should unlock the door, but what if it was someone else’s room? It could be Maria’s.

He crossed the hallway. Knocked softly.

“Elle?”

“Yes.”

He was so relieved he almost dropped the keys. Now he just needed to find the right one.

It was the fourth key he tried.

He swung the door open and there was Elle. He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her tight. “Thank you, God,” he said. “I was so afraid that I’d never hold you again.”

She kissed him. “I love you, Brody Donovan. I’ve never stopped loving you.” She took a breath. “I was afraid that I’d never get to tell you that. I. Love. You.”

He kissed her nose. “I love you more.”

“Where’s Jamas and Felipe?”

“Felipe is all tied up and Jamas, well, he’s out of commission, I hope. I was able to put some medication in his tea that is a very effective relaxant when used appropriately but when taken in a large dose causes bad stomach cramping and all the things that go along with that. I bought us a little time, but we have to go now.”

He grabbed her hand, pulled her out into the hallway and looked at his watch. Seven minutes to two. The Witching Hour was approaching. It was something Mack McCann had thought of all those summers ago at Crow Hollow.
We’ll meet at the Witching Hour.
It was code that only Ethan, Mack and Brody knew. Mack had said that most people would think the Witching Hour was midnight, so by making it two hours later, they could fool everybody.

He only needed to fool one very evil man.

“We have to get Bob,” Brody said.

“Of course.”

They ran down the hallway to the clinic, then down the stairs. Both men were sleeping. Brody put his hand over Bob’s mouth and woke him up. The man’s eyes opened.

Brody smiled and put a finger up to his lips. “We’re getting out of here. Lean on us.”

Bob nodded and swung his legs over the side of the cot. He could put a little weight on his leg, but it was slow going up the stairs. Brody looked at his watch. Less than two minutes remained.

Elle looked at Brody. “This is going to be hard. But we can do it. We have to.”

“Honey, it’s possible we might not have to walk out of the jungle. There could be a ride coming.”

“What? Who?”

“Ethan and Mack. I gave Leo their numbers and told him to contact them immediately if something happened to us. He was to tell them to come at the Witching Hour, which is upon us. I was confident that with Leo’s connections he could discover the location of the house. Of course,” he said, not wanting to get her hopes up too high, “Leo may already be dead.”

“He isn’t. Jamas told me that he let him live.”

Brody could feel his heart beat faster. He’d done all this on a wing and a prayer and it looked as if it might possibly happen.

“And I don’t think Jamas ever found the plane. They were looking for it when they saw me in the jungle. I’m sure everyone is still okay and probably has been rescued by now.”

“We’re next,” he said optimistically.

They moved as quickly and as quietly as they could, with Bob between him and Elle. When they got to the front door, Brody reached for the handle. He whirled when he heard a noise behind him.

It was Maria. Still in her white uniform. Her hair was down and she looked younger.

“Stop,” she said.

“Maria,” Brody said, his tone soft. “You said that you would neither help nor hamper.”

“I know. I’m breaking my word.” She pointed to the door. “There’s an alarm. If you open that door, it’s going to blare. You need to enter the code.”

She walked over and punched in a number, then opened the door. There was no noise.

“You helped Rita,” Maria said. “Besides all the other reasons I stay, I stay for her, to help her. And tonight, you gave her back her life, her independence. I kept watching you, sure that you were going to do something to harm her, to send her into cardiac arrest or something to create a disturbance. I had told Jamas not to let you operate, but he was so desperate for her to have the surgery that he insisted, saying that I should signal the minute I saw you do something questionable. But you did everything perfectly. And you were so kind to her. Thank you for that.”

He grabbed Maria and hugged her. “Come with us.”

She shook her head. “My home is here.”

He hugged her again. “If you ever come to the States, look me up. Brody Donovan. San Diego, California. I’ll hire you in a minute.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Donovan,” she said.

They left and Brody heard the door close behind them. Thirty steps later, they were in the trees, hidden by the trees.

“Okay?” he said, grabbing Elle’s hand.

Okay? No. She was scared to death. It was dark, so terribly dark. But her heart felt lighter than it had in years. Brody loved her. Again. Still. It didn’t matter which.

“I’m good,” she said. Nothing was as frightening as being in Jamas’s house, knowing that he intended to sell her to some monster. “What’s next?”

“We wait.”

“How long?”

“Not long, honey. If they’re coming, it should be any minute.”

“What if they don’t?” she forced herself to ask. It was the middle of the night, and they were in a dark jungle, with no idea of what direction to go, with an injured man. Danger was everywhere.

“We’re going to have to try to get as far away as we can. Jamas isn’t going to be in the bathroom forever. He’s going to check on his mother, see Felipe, and all hell is going to break loose.

“How are they going to find us?”

“I got another plan. I need my hand back for just a second.”

She heard rustling. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready,” he said. “Bob, you hanging in there? How’s the leg?”

“Grateful to still have it,” he said. “Thank you.”

“No pro—” Brody stopped midword.

Helicopter. He could hear it.

Closer now.

He pulled the trigger of the first pen flare, sending it up. It burned bright. Was it high enough? Damn these trees.

He sent up the second one.

Yes, the helicopter was closer.

He sent up the third and final flare and was practically blinded by the searchlight that hit him in the face.

“They came,” he said. “I knew they would.”

* * *

E
THAN
M
OORE
LANDED
the helicopter with a light touch. Mack McCann, gun strapped across his torso, had the side door open and put a hand out to help Elle. Bob was next and finally Brody.

Brody hugged Mack and gave a thumbs-up to Ethan. “Go,” he yelled, knowing that neither man could hear him over the noise.

They understood. And the helicopter started to lift off.

Brody took one last look. He pointed to get Elle’s attention. The front door was open and Jamas was standing in the doorway, holding his pants up with one hand. There was a look of pure astonishment on his face.