Plain Truth (Military Investigations) (17 page)

Using his right hand, he held the syringe over his vein. His vision blurred. He blinked it back into focus, feeling light-headed as a wave of vertigo swept over him.

Determined to remain conscious, he clamped down on his jaw, slid the needle into his vein and pushed in the plunger. Heat coursed up his arm.

He thought of his mother who had died from an allergy treatment that should have saved her life.

Would the injection do harm or good? He’d know soon enough.

Please, God, help me survive so I can save Ella.

NINETEEN

B
uried alive.

That’s how Ella felt, locked in the trunk of Ross’s car. She forced down the panic that overwhelmed her and focused on getting free.

Ross was driving fast—too fast—over unpaved back roads. Her head crashed against the floor of the trunk with every bump and pothole. Lying in a fetal position as she was, her legs were crammed against her chest. Using her hands and feet, she pushed against the top of the trunk. If only it would open.

What had she seen on television about disengaging the wiring in the taillights to alert law enforcement?

She dug at the carpet that covered the floor and walls of the space where she was confined. Feeling a raw edge, she yanked with all her might. A portion of carpet lifted. She jammed her hand into what felt like a web of wires and tugged on anything that would pull free.

The car slowed to a stop.

Her heart lurched. Had Ross heard her?

She needed a plan.

Think. Think.

When he opened the trunk, she would kick him with both feet. He’d be thrown off guard long enough for her to crawl out and run to safety.

Zach’s face played through her mind. He was dying at her clinic. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she couldn’t cry. Not now. Nothing could interfere with her getting away from Ross. Only then would she be able to return to her clinic and save Zach.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel roadway.

Ella pulled in a deep breath.

The trunk opened. She kicked, catching Ross’s chin. He gasped and took a step backward.

She scrambled out of the trunk, but he grabbed her before she could run.

“You deserve to die,” he screamed, and slapped her face. “You’re like your husband. He never cared about anyone on the team. He insulted us with his put-downs and negativity.”

She fought against Ross’s hold. “You tested your own treatment protocol on three children. Quin’s was effective, and yours wasn’t.”

He snarled in rage. “Mine was cheaper. Cutting cost is as important as rapid recovery.”

“Not when you’re dealing with children’s lives.” She clawed at his face.

Incensed, he seized her hands. “No one died except Quin. You will, too. People saw you leave the ballroom, upset by the video. They know how distraught you’ve been since your husband’s death.”

“Distraught because I knew he didn’t take his own life.”

Ross wrapped his fingers about her neck. “They’ll think you’ve taken your life just the way he did. That’s true love, to follow your husband into death.”

Unable to breathe, she jerked a hand free from his grasp and reached for his eyes. He slapped her once, twice, knocking her to the road. Gravel cut her knees and hands. She crawled away from him on all fours. He kicked her. Air whooshed from her lungs, and she gasped with pain.

He kicked her again and again.

Unable to gain her footing, Ella curled into a ball.

She’d rather be beaten to death than die in the water. At least the police would know she hadn’t taken her own life.

Grabbing her wrists, Ross pulled her hands behind her back. Pain seared through her arms and up her neck. “No!”

He dragged her over the gravel. The rough rocks scraped against her legs. She lost a shoe. Something sharp cut her foot.

“Help,” she screamed, knowing there was no one to hear her. She wouldn’t give up, not until every breath was taken from her.

Nearing the side of the bridge, he wrapped his left arm around her waist and shoved her against the guardrail. The glare from the headlights of his car blinded her. She heard the rush of water and looked down at the dark swell of the raging river.

A cry welled up within her, a plea so forceful it was as if her entire being was focused on three words that circled through her mind, words from scripture she remembered from her youth.

Save me, Lord.

The sound of an oncoming car made Ross hesitate and gave her the motivation to keep fighting. Ella kicked her feet and connected with his shin.

He groaned, trying to lift her over the railing. She threw her head back, crashing against his nose. She made her body go limp, her dead weight forcing him off balance.

The sound of a car engine grew louder. Someone was coming to rescue her, but would he arrive in time?

* * *

Zach’s head pounded and his eyes blurred. He was driving wildly and riding the middle yellow line, but no one else was on the road tonight. Levi was in Alabama, and Tyler was out of town. Zach had to rely on his own wherewithal. He had called Abrams. Two squad cars were on their way from Freemont, but they wouldn’t arrive in time.

His hives had subsided somewhat, but his fingers were still swollen, and his mouth was as dry as cotton. At least his throat was less constricted and he could breathe.

Ross had mentioned the wooden bridge over the river. Zach took the shortcut along the dirt road that wound close to the Fisher home. The bridge stood at least fifteen feet above the river. If Ross hurled Ella into the water, she wouldn’t survive. The current was strong and would quickly wash her body downstream.

Rounding a curve in the road, Zach spied headlights ahead. Accelerating, he raced to the bridge, screeched to a stop and leaped from his car. Still woozy, he stumbled toward the crazed researcher who was trying to shove Ella over the railing.

Tackling Ross with one hand, he grabbed Ella with the other. She collapsed to the ground as he punched Ross in the gut. The guy hit back. Zach deflected the blow and struck him again and again.

Ross pulled out a Glock.

Ella screamed.

Zach lunged for the gun. The two men dropped and rolled, fighting for control of the weapon. Zach’s eyes blurred, and a roar filled his ears. His grip weakened.

Ross angled the gun at his head.

Amassing the last of his strength, Zach twisted his opponent’s wrist a fraction of a second before the researcher pulled the trigger. A round exploded. Ross grabbed his gut and twitched with pain, then let out a dying gasp, and his body went limp.

“Zach,” Ella screamed. “Are you all right? Talk to me!”

But he couldn’t respond. He didn’t have the strength. Ella was alive. That was all that mattered.

TWENTY

E
lla turned at the sound of a car approaching on the far side of the bridge.

“Help!” She ran toward the oncoming vehicle and flailed her arms.

A late-model sedan braked to a stop. She gasped with relief. The driver’s door opened, and a woman stepped to the pavement.

“Nancy?”

The director held a gun and aimed it at Ella. “Did you plan to escape? Don’t you know that we need to get rid of you? Your husband proved to be a problem, and we got rid of him.”

“You’re working with Ross?”

Nancy didn’t realize that her partner in crime was either dying or already dead, and Ella wouldn’t be the bearer of bad news.

“Don’t you see that our research and the work we do is more important than one man’s life?” the director explained. “Quin stood in the way of us finding the most cost-effective treatment. He was convinced his own protocol was best.”

“But it was,” Ella countered.

“Only we needed to hold on to our capital, so we could help more children. If Quin had worked with us instead of against us, he would still be alive.”

“He knew you were hurting children with subpar treatment.”

“And he was so insistent that his protocol was the way to go. We eventually came to that same conclusion, but at a later time.”

“After you killed him.”

The woman shrugged, as if taking Quin’s life had been inconsequential. “Now you’re forcing me to kill you, Ella.” She glanced around. “Where’s Ross?”

Ella refused to answer.

The director’s gaze narrowed as she glanced at where the researcher lay. “Is he dead?”

“Turn yourself in, Nancy.”

“Absolutely not. All the better if I don’t have to worry about Ross. He was always the weak link.”

She was even more despicable than Ella had first realized. “You won’t get away with this, Nancy. The police will be here in a few minutes.”

“I’ll say the special agent shot you and Ross, and make it look like you were out to do us harm.”

Ella saw movement from the corner of her eye. Relief swept over her. Zach’s eyes were open, and his hand was reaching for Ross’s gun.

She needed to distract the director. “You sent Ross to my clinic to kill me.”

“You said you weren’t attending the symposium and charity dinner. But we knew you had information from your husband’s data, records that should have remained at the research center. That was so like Quin, thinking he could bend the rules to fit his own needs.”

“Someone pushed me onto the MARTA train tracks.”

“Yet your boyfriend saved you,” the director snarled. “You’re like a cat with nine lives. Ross was a fool. He attacked the wrong person in your clinic, then tried to kill you a number of ways, including using his grandfather’s rifle. He had hoped feigning an accent would throw you off track. Eventually, he decided the best plan was an anaphylactic reaction. He asked the hotel chef to add a light seafood glaze to the entrées served to the head tables. A glaze that was undetectable, but deadly for anyone allergic to shellfish.”

The director’s gaze narrowed. “But you didn’t eat anything except your salad. We couldn’t let you come back to your clinic and piece together the information. When you called about the flash drive, I was already en route here.”

“You’ll never find the data.”

“If necessary, I’ll burn down the clinic to get rid of the evidence.”

Ella inched her way slowly around the front of the car. She put her hand behind her back and held up three fingers, not even sure if Zach could see them or if he would understand her plan.

Please, God, let this work
, she silently prayed.

The director continued to talk about what she’d been able to accomplish and the children who had been helped through the research center.

“Your husband almost ruined all of that, Ella.”

She held up two fingers behind her back.

“He was a good researcher, but he was expendable,” Nancy continued.

One finger.

Pulling in a breath, Ella pointed behind the director’s head and screamed, “Watch out!”

The woman turned, startled, expecting to see someone behind her.

Ella dropped to the ground and scooted to the far side of the car.

Half lying, half sitting, Zach raised Ross’s weapon. “Drop your gun! CID Fort Rickman,” he cried.

The director turned back and fired wide.

Grasping the weapon with two hands, Zach aimed and fired. The shot made its mark. The gun fell from Nancy’s hands. She gasped, clutched her side and collapsed onto the road.

Ella scurried around the car, grabbed the director’s gun and felt for her carotid artery. No pulse. She opened Nancy’s jacket and began CPR.

Sirens screamed, and police sedans followed by two ambulances screeched to a stop on the bridge.

“We’ve got it from here, Doc.” Two EMTS took over the compressions and worked to keep the director alive.

Ella ran to where Zach sat propped against the bridge. He tried to stand. “Don’t get up. You’re still dizzy,” she told him. She waved over another team of paramedics. “This man needs medical attention.”

They quickly got Zach onto a stretcher and lifted him into one of the ambulances. “You’re not going without me,” she said, climbing in behind them. “I’m his physician.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ella sat on the side seat next to the stretcher.

“I’m okay, Ella,” Zach told her.

“Maybe, but we’ll let the ER docs decide. And we’re heading to the hospital at Fort Rickman.”

“It’s farther,” he said.

“But they’re not short staffed.”

Ella couldn’t let down her guard; she had to stay in control until she knew Zach was receiving the medical care he needed.

The ER doctor was waiting when the ambulance arrived. He raced alongside the stretcher, asking questions, as the medical team rushed Zach into the trauma room.

“You need to wait in the hallway, ma’am.” One of the nurses closed the door, shutting Ella out.

Standing in the corridor, not knowing if Zach would be all right, was one of the hardest things Ella had ever had to do. She called Sergeant Abrams to fill him in, and was surprised by the information he shared.

When the door opened and the doctor invited her into the trauma room, she had to hold back tears of relief. Zach still lay on the stretcher, but his color had returned and he was smiling. She even saw a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m not sure of everything that happened,” the ER doc said. “But his symptoms point to histamine fish poisoning.”

Ella nodded in agreement. “I talked to the police. Evidently a number of people at the head tables of a banquet we were at fell ill, eating entrées covered with a seafood glaze. The doctors in Atlanta called it scombroid food poisoning, which coincides with your diagnosis.”

“How ’bout explaining what it is to the patient?” Zach asked.

“Basically, it’s caused by spoiled fish,” Ella told him. “Bacteria breaks down protein in the fish and high levels of histamines are the by-product, which causes illness. Although usually not as severe as your reaction, Zach. Public health people in Atlanta are inspecting the hotel kitchen, but the problem could have occurred when the seafood was first shipped to market.”

“Special Agent Swain mentioned his mother’s allergy to shellfish,” the ER doc added. “I’d recommend testing. An allergic reaction could have played into his quite significant response. In either case, the epinephrine helped to open his airway.”

Ella was puzzled. “But I only administered a half cc at most.”

“I injected myself.” Zach held up his left arm and showed her the vein where a large hematoma had formed.

“My advice,” the doctor said, “is to keep an EpiPen on hand.” Turning to Ella, he added, “We want Special Agent Swain to stay here until his blood pressure returns to normal. If the lab work comes back without question, we’ll release him in a few hours and you can take him home.”

When the ER doctor left the trauma room, Ella stepped toward the stretcher and leaned over Zach. “I thought I’d lost you. You could hardly breathe, and I knew you were in severe distress.”

“I feared Ross would hurl you off the bridge. You can’t swim—isn’t that what I heard?”

“I’m planning to take lessons.”

“A good idea.” He touched her cheek and wrapped her hand in his. “You’re very brave, Dr. Jacobsen, and very smart.”

“And you’re always quick with praise.” She smiled. “Which is so...well, affirming. I’m thanking God that both of us survived.”

“I’m sorry about Quin.”

She nodded. “At least I know now that he didn’t take his own life. Somehow it’s easier to accept, this way, although it only shows how twisted the director and Ross were.”

“Do you have any word on Nancy’s condition?”

“I told you I called the police when I was in the hallway. Sergeant Abrams said she’s critical, but will probably survive.”

“And stand trial. What about Ross?”

Ella shook her head. “But there is good news. I asked one of the nurses to call ICU about Mary Kate’s condition.”

“Tell me she’s better.”

“How’d you guess? The RN told me she’s turned a corner and is expected to make a full recovery. Her husband was with her.”

“A lot has happened since that first night at your clinic.” Zach touched Ella’s hair and weaved a strand around his finger. “But in all the headache and struggle, something good occurred.”

“Oh?”

“I got to know a wonderful physician who treats sick kids and makes them better.”

“But I almost lost you.”

“That wasn’t your fault.” He hesitated a moment. “I know you’re grieving for your husband, but I hope someday you’ll find room in your heart to love again.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem, especially if you’re talking about a special agent who saved my life about—” Ella glanced up and pursed her lips coyly “—hmm, maybe four or five times. I’d say that’s the type of guy I want to keep around.”

“I’d like to stay around.” He pulled her closer. “For a long time.”

Then she lowered her lips to his, and he did what she’d wanted him to do since the first night they’d met. He kissed her. His kiss was extra sweet.

With a contented sigh, Zach wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer. Then he kissed her again and again.

Pulling back ever so slightly, she wiggled her nose and smiled. “As a physician, I need to warn you.”

“About what?” he asked.

“Kissing could cause your blood pressure to rise.”

“But mine was too low.” He feigned wide-eyed innocence. “Which means kissing would be good for the patient.”

She laughed. “Good for the doctor, too.”

As they waited for the lab tests to be run so Zach could be released, Ella snuggled against him. She never wanted to leave his embrace. So much had happened that had brought them together, and wrapped in Zach’s arms was where she wanted to stay for a very long time.