Chapter Thirty-Five
Tony paced the hall outside Vaulcron’s room, waiting for the Bracadyte to emerge. If anyone knew of Naura’s whereabouts, it would be one of her brothers—and Tony had already checked with Hauke.
“You may come in,” Vaulcron finally called out.
“Jesus. What took you so long?” Tony rushed inside, brushing past Vaulcron to check his bedroom. “Where is she?”
“Would you rather I invited you in to watch me dress?” Vaulcron took a seat. “Whom are you searching for?”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You know damn well who I am looking for. Your sister. Where is she?”
Vaulcron shrugged a massive shoulder. “What do you want with Naura?”
“I need to talk to her, Vaulcron. If you know where she is, damn it. Tell me.”
“You are connected to her. Why not ask her?”
Tony flattened his palms on the table and leaned in close to the Bracadyte’s face. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that already?”
Indecision flickered in Vaulcron’s eyes. “She asked that I not divulge her location. She is hurt and confused, Tony. If I tell you of her whereabouts, I fear she will only run again and shut me out as well.”
Tony slowly straightened. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. She wants something from me that I’m not sure I can give her.”
“Then why not let her go? She will eventually accept your decision. Whatever that might be.”
“I can’t,” Tony growled. “Not until I talk to her. I need to see her.”
Vaulcron ran a hand down his face in obvious defeat. “She is in Cuba.”
Tony’s heart kicked up a notch. “What the hell is she doing in Cuba? Is she alone?”
“She is with Miguel.”
Jealousy, swift and strong, tightened in Tony’s gut.
Tony had spent most of the past year with Miguel in Playa Pilar, hiding from the United States Government. He was no stranger to Miguel’s reputation with women, and neither were the native beauties that frequented the guy’s hut.
“Naura is alone with Miguel Salvador?”
“He will not harm her, Anthony Vaughn. This I do not doubt.”
Tony shook his head and rushed toward the door. “Of course he won’t harm her, Vaulcron. He’ll seduce her.”
Vaulcron jumped to his feet and trailed after Tony into the hall. “Where are you going?”
“To bring her back!” Tony yelled over his shoulder.
The sound of Vaulcron’s boots began to echo off the walls, telling Tony that he followed. “You will never make it to Cuba, Anthony. The military swarms the surface for miles.”
Tony slowed his steps as Vaulcron’s words sank in. He stopped and faced the giant male. “I know that, damn it. I’m not thinking straight.”
A thought suddenly struck Tony. Resting his hands on his hips, he stared Vaulcron in the eyes. “Call her home.”
“She will not listen to me, Anthony. She has shut me out.”
Frustration welled up inside Tony’s chest. “Then contact Miguel.”
“What shall I say to Miguel?”
“Tell him that Naura is needed in Aukrabah. That it’s an emergency. Her mother’s sick or something.”
Vaulcron narrowed his eyes. “You want me to lie to Miguel?”
“If that’s what it takes to bring her home,” Tony ground out through clenched teeth. “Say what you have to.”
“It will only hurt her more if we lie to her.”
Tony turned to go. “I’ll take that chance. At least I’ll know she’s safe.”
* * * *
Bruce Ortega entered the morgue on the basement floor of St. Mathews General Hospital.
Bodies were being wheeled out by overworked orderlies and taken to local funeral homes to be cremated, due to the nature of death and the bacterial threat they posed.
But Bruce hadn’t come to the morgue to witness its carnage. He’d come to say his goodbyes.
“Hi, Frazier,” Bruce called out to the pathologist currently examining a deceased male. “How’s it going down here?”
Frazier looked up from his task with a bleak expression, exhaustion evident on his face. “Not too good, Doctor Ortega. It seems to be growing worse by the day.”
Bruce moved toward the end of the examining table and lifted the tag hanging from the dead man’s toe. He glanced back at Frazier. “Meaning?”
“The cause of death is different from the other Incola victims.”
That caught Bruce’s interest. “How so?”
Frazier removed his gloves and trailed over to the sink to wash his hands. “This one’s lungs hemorrhaged, drowning him in his own blood.”
“But didn’t the other victims hemorrhage also?”
Frazier nodded and dried his hands. “From the brain, yes. They were unaware of their condition due to the extensive nerve damage to the frontal lobe, presenting rabid behavior and dementia.”
The pathologist pointed to the man on the table. “This guy had the same brain damage and rabid symptoms, but suffered an excruciating death by drowning. And that’s not all. He died within days as opposed to weeks.”
Bruce lowered his head in defeat. No matter how hard they pushed to save lives, the Incola virus always won.
Lifting his head, Bruce blew out a weary breath and turned toward the refrigerated drawers lining the back wall. “Where can I find Doctor Sutherland’s body?”
Frazier ambled toward the stainless steel drawers and pulled one open. “I’m sorry for your loss, Doctor Ortega.”
“Please call me Bruce.”
“Will you be identifying him, then?”
Bruce gave a quick nod and eased the sheet back from Henry’s cold body. “He has no living relatives.”
Frazier grabbed the clipboard and offered it to Bruce. “If you will just sign next to the X and print your name and relationship to the deceased…” His voice trailed off.
Bruce scrawled his name on the line and added family friend in the appropriate place before handing the clipboard back to the pathologist.
“Will you be making funeral arrangements, or would you like for me to handle it?”
“I’ll take care of it once I locate his will. I have no idea if he wanted a cremation or a burial.”
Frazier appeared uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “I hate to sound as if I’m rushing you, but we are out of room down here and could use the space.”
Bruce tightened his jaw in anger. Henry Sutherland fought with everything he had to find a cure for the damn Incola virus while he lived, and even in death it seemed he fought it still.
“I’ll have him moved as soon as possible.”
Frazier replaced Henry’s sheet and pushed his drawer closed. “I appreciate that.”
Bruce turned to go as an orderly wheeled another body into the room. He glanced back at Frazier on his way to the door. “Call me if you find another case similar to lung hemorrhage. It’s important.”
“Will do,” Frazier murmured, already snatching up a pair of gloves and waving for the orderly to roll the body to a designated spot.
How was he going to tell Abbie about her father? Bruce wondered, fishing out his keys from his coat pocket. He had no clue where to begin looking for her.