Shirlee McCoy - Running Blind

Magdalena had seemed tense in the weeks leading to the trip, but Jenna had chalked it up to stress. Was it possible something else had been weighing on her mind?

Jenna shook her head, denying her doubts as much as she was denying Nikolai’s words. “Everyone has secrets, but Magdalena’s weren’t the kind that get people killed.”

“Then perhaps Magdalena got in the way of a transaction between someone she knew and the drug cartel. Is it possible someone working at the clinic was trafficking in narcotics?”

“I don’t know. There were fifteen people on our medical team, and Magdalena is the only one I knew.” Jenna shook her head, wincing as pain shot through her skull. Her stomach heaved and she swallowed hard. No way did she plan to lose her lunch in front of Nikolai. She bent forward, trying to ease the nausea, wishing her thinking was less muddled. Maybe Nikolai was right and someone at the clinic had been involved in drug smuggling, but she couldn’t think of who it might be. Couldn’t even begin to imagine any of the volunteers stooping so low.

Nikolai touched her knee, his fingers warm through thick denim. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll make some more phone calls. Perhaps the police have new information.”

“I’m okay.” She straightened, sweat beading her brow as her stomach heaved again.

“You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“So maybe I should have said that I will be okay.” She stood, swaying as she took a step toward the window.

Her vision seemed to be clearing, the steroids the doctors were pumping into her doing their job. God was in control, and everything would work out okay. It was a mantra that she’d repeated to herself often during the two years she’d fought leukemia. Chemotherapy had sapped her strength, turned her into a person she didn’t know, and she’d had to remind herself every day that she’d be herself again when it was over. When it finally was, when she’d thought she would celebrate with longtime boyfriend Ryan Mayer and had, instead, listened as he’d told her how much he cared about her and how sorry he was that he’d fallen in love with someone else, she’d reminded herself that she would be okay. Her hair would grow back, her body would be strong again, her heart would heal.

Yes, God was in control, and Jenna would be okay.

But would Magdalena?

Jenna wanted to believe that she would be. Wanted to have hope that Magdalena would be found alive and healthy and anxious to go back to her husband and son.

She wanted to, but hope was elusive, her hold on it tentative. She swallowed back tears and turned away from the window, nearly falling backward when she realized Nikolai was right behind her.

“Careful.” He grabbed her hand, holding her steady as she regained her balance, the warmth of his touch seeping into her chilled flesh.

“Thanks.” She pulled her hand away, her cheeks heating for reasons she refused to acknowledge.

“You look feverish. I’ll call the nurse, and—”

“No!” She nearly shouted, her cheeks heating even more. “You’ve already done plenty, Nikolai. Actually, you’ve done more than plenty. You saved my life, and I won’t ever forget it. I hope you know that.”

“It sounds like you’re getting ready to say goodbye.” He offered a half smile that transformed him from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous, and Jenna’s heart skipped a beat.

“It’s time, isn’t it? I’m safe in the hospital, and I’m sure you have a lot of other things you could be doing.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“You could go home.”

“Now it sounds like you’re kicking me out.”

“I’m not, but I’m sure my brother will be here soon, and there’s no need for you to wait for him to show up.”

“I spoke to Kane after we arrived at the hospital. He’ll be here in about an hour. I’ll take off once he arrives—”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I want to. Besides, my flight to Houston doesn’t leave until tonight.”

“Houston?”

“I live there.”

“So does Magdalena.”

“I know.”

“What else do you know?”

“That she’s a pediatrician who specializes in orthopedic surgery and that she’s been running medical clinics in Mexico for several years. That she has a three-year-old son named Benjamin and a husband named John.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“I like to know the people I’m searching for.”

“Searching for?” Surprised, Jenna stepped toward him, misjudging the distance and bumping into his chest. She blushed as he grabbed her arms, steadying her for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t believe in leaving people behind. I haven’t given up on going back across the border. I’ve got some friends in Houston who may be able to help me do it.”

“Who—” She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door, and Nikolai whirled toward the sound, his broad frame blocking Jenna’s view.

She stepped sideways, her stomach dropping as she saw a suited man standing in the threshold of the door. He was bringing news. Jenna was sure of that, but her vision was still too impaired to read his facial expression.

“Jenna?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Agent Skip Bradley with the DEA.” He pulled something from his pocket and held it out, but Jenna couldn’t make out any details.

Nikolai moved toward the man, offering a hand. “I’m Nikolai Jansen.”

“Good to meet you, Nikolai. I’d like to speak with Jenna in private. I’m sure you won’t mind waiting out in the hall.”

“Actually, I would.”

“I’m going to have to insist.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going anywhere until Jenna’s family arrives.” Nikolai pressed a hand to Jenna’s back, urging her to the chair.

She sat quickly, her head spinning from the movement. “Do you have news, Agent Bradley?”

“I’m afraid that’s why I’m here.”

Afraid?

That meant the news was bad. “You’ve found Magdalena?”

“The Mexican police found her body. She was shot execution-style and left on the side of the road about twenty miles from where you were being held.”

Dead.

Magdalena was dead.

The words echoed through Jenna’s mind, and she took a deep breath, trying to silence them. “You’re sure it’s her?”

“Her husband is flying to Mexico to identify the body, but we’re confident it is.”

“I see.”

But she didn’t.

How was it possible that Magdalena was dead? That a mission of mercy had turned into a death sentence?

Nikolai squeezed her shoulder, his hand resting there as Agent Bradley continued. “I’m really sorry to have to bring you this news, Jenna, but we’re hoping that something you know can help us find your friend’s killers.”

“Magdalena was one of the kindest, most selfless people I’ve ever known. I can’t think of any reason why someone would want to harm her.”

“Would it surprise you to know we found thousands of dollars worth of cocaine hidden inside the lining of her suitcase and purse back at the hotel room you shared?”

“Nothing would surprise me at this point.” She stood, pacing across the room, away from Agent Bradley’s questions and Nikolai’s gentle support.

“Did you know it was there?”

“Of course, I didn’t. Neither did Magdalena.”

“It seems unlikely that Magdalena didn’t know what was hidden in her things,” Bradley responded, a hint of impatience in his voice.

“I’ve told you what I know and what I believe. I’m not sure what else you want me to say.”

“Who did she spend time with when she wasn’t working at the clinic?”

“Me. A few of the other medical professionals who were on the mission trip with us.”