I wake up laid out in a hospital bed with a woman hovering over me, who gives me a warm smile. I run my eyes over her, taking in her slender fit body and blonde hair. She looks in her mid-forties and is very easy on the eyes. I know I’ve been in and out of consciousness, because I’ve seen her like this, watching me before.
“Hello, Dallas, I’m Dr. Evelyn Castille. You are now in New Orleans and under my care.”
What the hell?
“Dallas, how are you feeling?”
“Call me Edge, Doc. I don’t go by Dallas.”
She nods at me.
I take a moment to think back and get my bearings.
Sara is Whisper. And then it all comes back to me.
Motherfucker.
The doctor is still talking to me, but I ignore her and look around the room for the old lady from last night.
Was it last night?
The door swings open and she walks in. She sees I’m awake and a look of hope reaches her eyes.
What has happened since I’ve been out?
“How long have I been out?” I snap at her, still ignoring the doctor, who waits silently close by. The old lady looks terrible like she hasn’t slept a wink in days.
I can’t have been here for days.
My question goes unanswered, which just pokes my bear even more. I try a softer approach, which comes out in a more restrained, predatory growl. “Ladies, I need to know the God… damn… day… and… time.”
The doc looks at her watch calmly. “It’s after ten in the morning…”
Fuck! I was out too long.
“…on Wednesday,” she adds quietly.
I let this sink in. It’s been nearly five days since Whisper was abducted, and I’ve been here? I move into a sitting position, which is harder than first anticipated, tearing the IV out of my vein and pressing down on the needle hole with my bare thumb.
The doc shakes her head on a heavy sigh and nudges my thumb out the way, swiftly replacing it with a gauze pad from her medical supplies she has laid out on a tray close by, and tapes it down. She doesn’t seem at all surprised by what I just did.
The pain will come soon, now that I’m off that cocktail that was being fed into me. I need to be able to think straight, and I can’t do that with drugs in my system.
Whisper needs me.
The doctor is watching me closely for my next move because she knows I have one.
“Doc, can you get that damn thing out of my dick.” It’s not a question.
She gives into a heavy sigh and goes about her business until she has it removed and everything is tidied up.
“Let’s talk about your injuries before we go any further. You got hit pretty hard by something sharp and jagged, and you were shot in the foot.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
My hand instinctively feels around the back of my head and touches a thick bandage. No biggie, I’ve had worse.
“My guess is a rock was used and you suffered a concussion. I’ve cleaned your head wound and stitched it up. Your foot has been operated on, and there are pins in it now. You were very lucky where the bullet entered your foot and exited. It could have done a lot more damage than it did.”
Has anybody gone after Whisper?
My silence has the doc barking up the wrong tree. “If you are worried about being kept under the law’s radar, you aren’t my first patient, and nor will you be my last I’ve looked after. In case you are wondering, nobody knows you are here.”
Why does she assume I want to stay under the law’s radar?
I know I’ve been looked after, but I need questions answered pronto. I need a phone, and I need to know if Whisper is still being tracked.
I look over at the old lady. “Do you still have a beat on Whisper’s whereabouts?”
Miss Catherine sadly shakes her head at me, and I think she just aged a whole lot more in front of me.
“Has the Calvary come through for you yet?”
“Boxer messaged me sayin’ he be back soon; that been four days ago.” She looks down and fiddles with the dress she has on. “He still not shown up, and his phone been disconnected.” He isn’t coming. I think that has finally sunk in.
I can feel my frustration starting to boil over for being shot by that fuckhead and not being in control of my life for days. I hate being laid up in a bed in front of these women and being dependent on their help. And as an added buy-two-get-the-third-free, we’ve lost the only thing that tied us to Whisper, that blue circle, the heartbeat that kept this old lady holding out hope.
I calm myself because this isn’t going to get me anywhere with these two. No wonder Miss Catherine looks worn out. I can’t imagine her sleeping with this knowledge. “Where’s the computer?”
Miss Catherine starts chattering. “It be behind Dr. Castille on the over-bed table, under her tray. Before I lost the signal, there be a changin’ of car along the way.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Whisper called me. She couldn’t be talkin’ long, and then the line disconnected. Then she be callin’ me again a couple hours later, and she was gonna be forced to be gettin’ on a plane, but the signal stayed for a while in the one place. I wrote it down. I hoped they be detainin’ her there for a while when the signal wasn’t movin’. Now I fear she be gone.”
“Or the battery went flat.” Trying to sound encouraging. I see hope and fear flickering in and out like a bad reception on her face.
I slam my fist down hard on the bed, cursing a string of obscenities for this FUBAR situation.
The doc interrupts our conversation. “Your bike is back at Miss Catherine’s house, and I have the keys in a safe with your wallet. You need to calm down, because I deal with you guys all the time, and your behavior doesn’t impress me or stress me.”
“What guys?” I am intrigued.
“Ex-military. You think you can move mountains, and usually do, but when you are hurt, you think you are invincible. I respect what you’ve done for our country, but whatever you are into now… I don’t want to know. What I do know is that foot of yours isn’t going to get you very far. These past few days have been nowhere near enough time to be back up on it.”
“How do you know I’m ex-military?”
“Your tattoos for one, and yes, I checked you over. I needed to know if you were hurt anywhere else. And I know your type, been around them long enough.” She glares at me. “Am I wrong?”
Fuck, this woman is too smart for her own good. I grunt as a reply. Then she surprises me.
“You need your president contacted?”
“Fuck, Doc, you gone through my things?”
“I did,” the old lady pipes up. “You be under my roof and I had to be knowin’ who I be harborin’ as well. Your cut was in your saddlebag.”
“I know where my cut was, and curiosity killed the cat.”
This lady doesn’t let up, still happy to keep on poking the wounded bear.
Miss Catherine ignores me, pondering her next words. I’ll give her this much: she has grown a bull-sized set on her. She knows I’m a biker, and she doesn’t give two shits about how dangerous I can be. I size her up for a moment.
Really look at her.
She might be old, but she is resilient. Life has taught her that. She has a story, maybe similar to mine, maybe not, but she has a past that has given her the strength to not be docile around somebody like me.
She looks over at the doc, who takes a deep breath, and then the doc is back on my tail. “I’m going to give you and Miss Catherine some privacy. The less I know, the better.” She gives me a look. “And you’re welcome for keeping you alive.” And then she leaves, closing the door behind her.
So I’m a prick for not thanking the doc.
“If I’m going to have a hope of finding Whisper, I need to get out of here today. Too many days have been lost already, Miss Catherine. She went off the grid when?”
“The morning after she went missing.”
Fuck! Too long.
“Already, Whisper’s alive days have decreased. For us to get started, I need her last location from the GPS. That last breadcrumb is our only lead.”
“The signal cut out at an abandoned airfield outside of Henrys Ferry, Alabama. The doctor has already Googled it. There be just a whole pile of fields and a whole lot of nothin’ else, but this airfield been shut down since the nineteen sixties.” Her voice is very shaky. “They could have killed her and buried her out there.”
I know she wouldn’t have intentionally been killed. She may have died by my hand. She may have done something to provoke her death.
“My take is she’s alive until we know any differently. This is how we are going to treat her until otherwise proven. You’ve told me of her past. She’s strong. She’s had a shit life until recently, but she will draw on her inner strength.
“Deal is I’m getting up and leaving ASAP. I need transport to New Orleans airport, and I’ll get on the next flight out to Montgomery, Alabama then take it from there. I need Whisper’s cell phone back so I can use it, and I need my personal effects that have been taken from me. No wallet means no plane ticket.
“We will set your phone up with GPS, and you can track me on the computer and stay in contact. You can call me as many times as you want unless I tell you it’s not safe to do so. The clock is ticking.”
I watch the old lady try to keep it together. She doesn’t want me involved, but she knows she has no choice and time is against us.
“Trust me, I know what to look for. You and your friends don’t want any of this public, and I know how to be discreet.”
She looks up at me with a determined expression on her face. “I be comin’ with you and we be drivin’. By the time you get the next flight and then be gettin’ out to Henrys Ferry, it be quicker to drive if we be leavin’ now. You’re in no condition to drive or fly, so I be your driver and that’s final.”
“I sure as hell can drive.” I stand up to prove a point and sweat starts pouring off me as I tamp down the grunt of agony and wait for the room to stop spinning.
“No! I be drivin’ you. Ain’t done it in near on ten years, but it be like ridin’ a bike. I’ll get a car from Dr. Castille, and we be leavin’ as soon as you be able. This be the only lead we have to findin’ her.”
“You still holding a license?”
“Not anymore.”
“Well that’s gonna have to be good enough for me, and you can call me Edge.”