Phillip Margolin: Wild Justice

I honor my debts, and I will pay you tomorrow.

The dealer hesitated. Cardoni's cold eyes bored into him. Krause licked his lips. The doctor got in his car, and Krause made no move to stop him.

It's three hundred tomorrow, Lloyd said, his voice shaky.

Of course, for the inconvenience.

You better fucking bring it.

No problem, Lloyd. Cardoni started the car. You have a good evening.

Cardoni drove off, waving casually, the way he might after finishing a friendly round of golf.

Chapter 6

Mary Sandowski's eyes opened. Wherever she was, it was pitch black and a blanket of warm, muggy air pressed down on her. Mary wondered if you could feel the touch of air in a dream but was too tired to figure out the answer, so she closed her eyes and dozed off.

Time passed. Her eyes opened again, and Mary willed herself out of the fog. She tried to sit up. Restraints cut into her forehead, ankles and wrists and anchored her in place. She panicked, she struggled, but she soon gave up. Lying in the dark, in the silence, she could hear her heart tap-tap-tapping.

Where am I? she asked out loud. Her voice echoed in the darkness. Mary took deep breaths until she was calm enough to take stock. She knew that she was naked because she could feel the air on her body. There was a sheet under her, and under the sheet was a firm padded surface. She might be on a gurney or an examining table like the ones at the hospital. A hospital! She must be in a hospital. That had to be it.

Hello! Is anybody here? Mary shouted. A nurse would hear her. Someone would come in and tell her why she was in the hospital ... if she was in a hospital. It dawned on Mary that the air smelled slightly foul. Missing was the antiseptic odor she associated with St. Francis.

A door opened. She heard the click of a switch, and a flash of light blinded her. Mary closed her eyes in self-defense. The door closed.

I see the patient is awake, a friendly voice said. It sounded vaguely familiar. Mary opened her eyes slowly, squinting into the light of the bare bulb that dangled directly overhead.

I hope you're rested. We have a lot to do.

Where am I? Mary asked.

There was no answer. Mary heard the sound of shoes moving across the floor. She strained to see the person who was standing at the foot of the table.

What's wrong with me? Why am I here?

A shape moved between Mary and the lightbulb. She saw a section of a green hospital gown that surgeons wore when they operated. Mary's heart lurched. A needle pricked a vein in her forearm.

What are you doing? Mary asked anxiously.

Just giving you a little something that will heighten your sensitivity to pain.

What? Mary asked, not certain she had understood correctly.

Suddenly Mary's throat constricted. She became aware of a warm feeling. Every nerve in her body began to tingle. She heaved for breath and began to sweat. Her pores exuded the smell of fear. Suddenly the sheet beneath her was damp and rough to the touch, and the air that caressed her naked body felt like sandpaper.

Without a word, a hand slid across her left breast. It felt unbearably cold, like dry ice.

Please, she begged, tell me what's happening.

A thumb caressed her nipple, and she felt fear so intense that it raised her body a fraction of an inch from the table.

Good, the voice remarked. Very good.

The hand slid away. There was complete quiet. Mary bit her lip and tried to stop shaking.

Talk to me, please, she pleaded. Am I sick? Mary heard the unmistakable metallic ping of surgical instruments touching accidentally. Are you going to operate?

The doctor did not answer her.

I' m Mary Sandowski. I' m a nurse. If you tell me what you're going to do, I'll understand, I won't be afraid.

Really?

The doctor chuckled and moved to Mary's side. She saw light dancing off the smooth steel of a scalpel blade. Now she was babbling with fear, but the doctor still refused to answer her question and began to hum a tune.

Why are you doing this? Mary sobbed.

For the first time the doctor seemed interested in something she had said. There was a pause while the surgeon contemplated her question. Then the doctor leaned closer and whispered.

I' m doing this because I want to, Mary. Because I can.

Chapter 7

Amanda Jaffe executed a flip turn and felt her foot slip on the tiles as she somersaulted off the pool wall. The bad turn made her shimmy as she headed into the final lap of her 800-meter freestyle, and she had to fight the water to get her body right. Amanda was on the edge of exhaustion, but she dug in for a final sprint. When she saw the far wall through the churning water, she gritted her teeth for one last, great effort, lunged forward and collapsed against the side of the pool. A clock hung on the wall in front of her. Amanda pulled her goggles onto her forehead. As soon as she saw her time, she groaned. It was nowhere near the time she had registered five years ago in the finals of the PAC-10 championships.

Amanda tugged off her swim cap and shook out her long black hair. She cut an imposing figure, with shoulders that were broad and muscular from years of competitive swimming. When her breathing leveled, Amanda checked the clock again, noting that her recovery time was also a hell of a lot slower than it had been when she was twenty-one. For a brief moment she thought about working out a little longer, but she knew she' d had it. She hoisted herself out of the pool and headed for the Jacuzzi, where she would soak until the pain in her tired muscles disappeared.

When she was dressed, Amanda went to the reception desk at the Y and stood in line to swap her key for her membership card. She had noticed the woman ahead of her when she was showering. She had the hard, muscled physique of someone who works out with weights and runs long distances, and her looks were as impressive as her body. The woman got her card from the clerk and walked toward an equally striking man in a blue warm-up suit. They made quite a couple. The man looked athletic. He had a dark complexion and blue eyes, and his black hair fell across his forehead in a boyish tangle.

Amanda frowned. There was something familiar about the woman's companion, but she couldn't remember where she' d seen him before. Then he smiled and she knew.

Tony?

The man turned.

I' m Amanda Jaffe.

Tony Fiori's face lit up.

My God, Amanda, of course! How many years has it been?

Eight, nine, Amanda answered. When did you get back to Portland?

About a year ago. I' m a doctor. I' m doing my residency at St. Francis.

That's great!

What are you up to?

I' m a lawyer.

Not medical malpractice, I hope?

Amanda laughed. No, I' m with my dad's firm.

Hey, I' m forgetting my manners. Tony turned to the woman. Amanda Jaffe, Justine Castle. Justine's a friend from the hospital, another overworked and underpaid resident. Amanda and I went to high school together, and her father and mine used to be law partners.

Justine had watched quietly while Amanda and Tony spoke. Now she smiled and extended a hand. It was cool to the touch, and her grip was strong. Amanda thought that her smile was forced.

Tony looked at his watch. We've got to get back to St. Francis, he said. It was great seeing you. Maybe we can get together for lunch sometime.

That would be terrific. Nice meeting you, Justine.

Justine nodded, and she and Tony walked down to the parking lot. Amanda had parked on the street. She smiled as she headed to her car. Tony had always been a hunk, but she could only fantasize about him in high school when she was a geeky freshman and he was a godlike senior. Then the difference in their ages had been huge. It didn't seem so great now. Maybe she would ask him out for coffee.