Robin Cook - Harmful Intent

"Answer me!" Carol demanded. "Where have you been?"

With his briefcase still in hand, Jeffrey started for his room. He wanted to be alone. The nightmare vision of a prison filled with inmates all like

Devlin came to him in a dizzying rush.

Carol grabbed his arm. "I'm talking to you!" she snapped.

Jeffrey stopped and looked down at Carol's hand gripping his arm. "Let go of me," he said in a controlled voice.

"Not until you talk to me and tell me where you've been."

"Let go of me," Jeffrey said menacingly.

Thinking better of it, Carol let go of his arm. Again he started for his room. She quickly fell in behind him. "You are not the

only one around here who has been under strain," she yelled after him. "I think I deserve some kind of explanation. I had to entertain that animal for hours."

Jeffrey stopped at his door. "I'm sorry," he said. He owed her that. Carol was right behind him.

"I think I've been pretty understanding through all this," Carol said. "Now

I want to know what happened at the bank. Dudley said yesterday there would be no problems."

"I'll talk to you about it later." He needed a few minutes to calm down.

"I want to talk about it now," Carol persisted.

Jeffrey opened his door and stepped into the room. Carol tried to push through after him, but Jeffrey blocked her way. "Later!" he said, louder than he'd meant to. He closed the door on her. Carol heard the lock click into place.

She pounded on the door in frustration and began to cry. "You're impossible! I don't know why I was willing to wait on the divorce. This is the thanks I get." Sobbing, she gave the door a kick, then ran down the hall to her own room.

Jeffrey slammed the briefcase down on his bed, then sat down next to it. He didn't mean to aggravate Carol like that, but he couldn't help it. How could he explain what he was going through when there hadn't been any real communication between them for years? He knew he owed her an explanation, but he didn't want to confide in her until he'd decided what to do. If he told her he had the cash in hand, she'd make him take it to the bank first thing. But Jeffrey needed time to think first. For what felt like the fortieth time that day alone, he wasn't sure what he would do.

For the moment, he got up and went into the bathroom. He filled a glass with water and held it with both hands as he drank. He was still shaking from a whirlpool of emotions. He looked at himself in the mirror. There was a scratch on the end of his nose where Devlin had flicked him. Both his ears were bright red. He shuddered when he recalled how defenseless he'd felt in front of the man.

Jeffrey returned to the bedroom and eyed the briefcase. Flipping open the latches, he lifted the lid and pushed aside Chris Everson's notes. He looked at the neat packets of hundred-dollar bills and found himself wishing that he'd stayed on the plane that afternoon. If he had, he'd now be well on his way to Rio and some sort of new life. Anything had to be better than what

he was going through now. The warm moments with Kelly, that great dinner, seemed to have happened to him in another life.

Glancing at his watch, Jeffrey noticed it was a little after eight. The last Pan Am shuttle was at nine-thirty. He could make it if he left soon.

He remembered how awful he'd felt on the plane that afternoon. Could he really go through with it? Jeffrey went back into the bathroom and again examined his inflamed ears and scratched nose. What else was a man like

Devlin capable of if they were locked in the same room day in, day out?

Jeffrey turned and went back to the briefcase. He closed the lid and locked it up. He was going to Brazil.

When Devlin left the Rhodes's house, he fully intended to follow his original plan of Italian food, followed by beers at the harbor. But when he got about three blocks away, intuition made him pull over to the side of the road. In his mind's eye, he replayed the conversation he'd had with the good doctor. From the moment Jeffrey had blamed the bank for not coming through with the money, Devlin knew he'd been lying. Now he started wondering why.

"Doctors!" Devlin said. "They always think they're smarter than everybody else."

Doing a U-turn, Devlin drove back the way he'd come and cruised by the

Rhodes's house, trying to decide how to proceed. About a block beyond it, he made a second U-turn and passed the house again. This time he slowed down. He found a parking place and pulled in.

The way he saw it, he had two choices. Either he could go back inside the

Rhodes's house and ask the doc why he was lying, or he could sit tight and wait awhile. He knew he'd put the, fear of God into the man. That had been his intention. Often people who felt guilty about something reacted to confrontation by hastily committing some telltale act. Devlin decided to wait Rhodes out. If nothing happened in an hour or so, then he'd go get some food and come back for a visit afterward.

Turning off the motor, Devlin scrunched down as best he could behind the steering wheel. He thought about Jeffrey Rhodes, wondering what the guy had been convicted of Mosconi hadn't told him that. To Devlin, Rhodes didn't seem like the criminal type, even the white-collar variety.

A few mosquitoes disturbed Devlin's reverie. After rolling up the windows, the temperature inside the car climbed. Devlin began to rethink his plans.

Just as he was about to start the car,

he saw movement at the far edge of the garage. "Now what have we here?" he said, hunching low in his seat.

At first Devlin couldn't tell who it was, the Mr. or the Mrs. Then Jeffrey stepped around the edge of the garage, making a beeline for his car. He was carrying his briefcase, and he ran kind of hunched over, as if he didn't want to be seen by anyone inside the house.

"This is getting interesting," Devlin whispered. If Devlin could prove

Jeffrey was trying to jump bail and caught him, and dragged him to jail, some big money would be coming his way.

Without closing the car door for fear that Carol might hear it, Jeffrey released the emergency brake and let the auto slip silently down the driveway and out into the street. Only then did he start the motor and drive off. He craned his neck for a view of the house for as long as he could, but

Carol never appeared. A block away he slammed the door properly and put on his seat belt. It had been easier to get away than he'd thought.

By the time Jeffrey got to the congested Lynn Way with its used-car lots and gaudy neon signs, he began to calm down. He was still somewhat shaky from Devlin's visit, but it was a relief to know that he would soon be putting the man and the threat of prison far behind him.

As he got closer to Logan International Airport, he began to feel the same misgivings he had had that morning. But all he had to do was touch his tender ears to rekindle his resolve. This time he was committed to following through, no matter his qualms, no matter how high his anxiety.

Jeffrey had a few minutes' leeway, so he went to the ticket counter to have the agent change his Rio de Janeiro ticket. He knew the shuttle ticket was still fine. As it turned out, the night flight to Rio was cheaper than the afternoon flight, and Jeffrey got a considerable refund.

Holding his ticket in his mouth, the suitcase in one hand, and the briefcase in the other, he hurried toward security. It had taken longer than he'd expected to exchange the ticket. That was one flight he didn't want to miss.

Jeffrey went directly to the X-ray machine and hoisted the suitcase onto the conveyor belt. He was about to do the same with his briefcase when someone grabbed his collar from behind.

"Going on vacation, Doctor?" Devlin asked with a wry smile. He snatched the airline ticket from Jeffrey's mouth.