“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Can’t be too careful,” said Daniel.
“Go ahead.”
He grabbed one of the cushioned chairs surrounding a wide, circular coffee table and positioned it where he could see the entire width of the hallway. He also had a peripheral view of the main elevator lobby across from the attendant, and the double doors leading to the rest of the fourth floor. While lowering into the chair, he removed his concealed pistol from its holder and tucked it into Jessica’s handbag with one swift motion, nobody the wiser. He set the bag next to his right thigh and placed his hand inside, making sure he could draw the pistol without it catching. All he could do now was wait.
Chapter 21
Jessica paused in front of the bathroom. She could see the outline of her mother’s legs under a familiar patchwork quilt toward the foot of the bed. Her mom had made that for the family room couch when Jessica was in elementary school. She remembered the day she proudly unfolded it like it was yesterday. A flood of memories followed. Good ones. She had expected the opposite. Instead of the anger and betrayal she’d anticipated, she felt a bittersweet nostalgia. She could do this. A few more steps brought more of her mother’s body into focus. Another step and she’d be face-to-face with her mother for the first time since she left for Langley.
“Nikki?” said a gravelly voice. “Is that really you?”
She took the final step. Any trace of the anger she’d harbored for years drained away permanently. Jessica knew it was gone. Regret filled that void, replace by a warmth toward her mother that she didn’t think could be rekindled.
“Mom,” said Jessica, unsure what to do.
“Come here, sweetie,” said her mom, struggling to raise her arms to beckon her.
Jessica rushed to the side of her bed and hugged her gently, careful with her frail body. Vesna’s arms barely managed to apply any pressure to the embrace. Jessica kept the side of her face pressed lightly against her mother’s, crying uncontrollably while holding her.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” she sobbed. “So sorry.”
Her mother patted her back. “You have nothing to be sorry about, sweet one,” whispered Vesna. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I always understood. You took good care of me.”
“I didn’t take care of you, Mama,” whimpered Jessica.
“Nonsense,” said Vesna, in a firm voice.
Jessica pulled away from her, staring into surprisingly resolute eyes. They appeared to be the only part of her that was still alive, sunken deeply in darkened sockets. What the hell had happened to her?
“Look where I am. And where I’ve been. You’ve taken good care of me, my angel. More than I had any right to expect.”
“I should have taken you away from this place,” said Jessica. “Things would have been different.”
“I’m right where I was always meant to be. You must believe that.”
Jessica leaned in again, holding her mom as close as possible. She’d seen and smelled death in its most sickening and violent forms before, but something about this was far worse. The stale air, the near absolute absence of any vibrant color, a feeling of complete depletion.
“I love you, Mama,” she barely managed to say between sobs.
“I love you too, my angel,” said Vesna, keeping her close.
After a few minutes, Jessica pulled one of the chairs closer to the bed and held her mother’s hand.
“How did this happen?” Jessica asked.
“Nobody knows,” her mother answered. “Organ failure. Pain all over. It started a few months ago, coming in waves, and just kept getting worse and worse. None of the tests showed anything.”
“You don’t have cancer?”
“They couldn’t find anything.”
Something stirred in Jessica. None of what her mom said made sense. It sounded like she’d been poisoned.
Vesna squeezed her hand. “Let’s not talk about it. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m just so happy to see you. This is like a dream come true. Maybe I’m already in Heaven.”
“Don’t talk like that, Mama.”
“Promise me something,” said her mom.
“Sure. What?”
“When you walk out of here, you don’t look back. Ever. You go off and live a good life with that young man,” said her mom. “I remember him from the last time I ever saw you. He had the devil in his eyes that night. Like he could kill a man.”
“He almost did kill a man that night.”
“Let’s not talk about it,” said Vesna, her eyes looking glassy and distant. “I’m just so happy to see you one last time.”
“I should have come sooner.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. You deserved to get out of here. A lot of your friends didn’t.”
If only her mother knew where she had ended up. That was the irony of it all. Jessica had traded one nightmare for another and, in all likelihood, would have been better off staying. There was no psychiatrist’s couch for the things she’d seen and done after “escaping” Palos Hills.
Jessica started to respond when she heard the sound of an elevator chime.
Chapter 22
Daniel sat up in his chair when the elevator chimed. A quick glance to his right told him it didn’t come from the elevator lobby. Neither of the indicator lights next to the doors had illuminated. He turned his head a little further to catch the hospice attendant’s eye.
“Service elevator,” said the man.
“You expecting anyone?” asked Daniel, tightening his grip on the pistol.
A bright green plastic laundry cart emerged from the service elevator, pushed by a man wearing maroon hospital scrubs.
“That’s just Kevin. He takes away dirty towels or sheets left in bathroom hampers. He comes by once a shift.”
Daniel confirmed that Kevin was the only person to get off the elevator. The attendant raised his hand to acknowledge the man’s arrival. The gesture was returned in kind by the man maneuvering the cart into the center of the hallway.
“You’re sure that’s Kevin?”
“He’s been on the night shift for close to a year,” said the attendant, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.
“Does he go in all of the rooms?” Daniel asked, keeping his eyes locked on the man in scrubs.
“He has a list of the occupied or recently vacated rooms. I send it to janitorial services through the computer. Sometimes he forgets it, though,” he said. “Kev, you got the list?” he called.
“Got it, man!” replied the guy, lifting a sheet of paper out of a tray attached to the cart. “I’m already pretty full, so I might need to make two trips.”
“Tell him to skip 451 and the room across the hall,” said Daniel.
“Dude, you need to seriously take it easy. Unless Kevin’s your wife’s ex-boyfriend, there’s no problem here. You’re acting like there’s some kind of international cartel out to get her.”
You have no idea.
Despite this initial thought, the attendant’s last sentence somehow eased Daniel’s tension. He was indeed being ridiculous. The line between healthy caution and morbid paranoia could be a fine one in this business, but he wasn’t vetting a meet-up location with a clandestine field contact. He was sitting in an upscale hospital outside of Chicago, waiting for his wife to finish visiting her terminally ill mother. He didn’t trust the U.S. government to honor his immunity deal, especially the new administration, but if they’d really wanted him in custody, there wasn’t much he could do except get on that sailboat and vanish.