Thomas Perry - Poison Flower

The girl had said he was smart. That didn't mean he was smart; it meant only that he had persuaded her of his intelligence, and that he wouldn't have much trouble talking her out of helping Jane. That was the smart choice, the one that would probably keep them both out of trouble, preserve his freedom and his license to practice medicine, and let them forget they had ever seen her.

The easiest thing for them to do was to separate themselves from this unpleasantness. He had treated her bullet wound, and what had happened to Jane after that was not his business. He would use the girl's belief in his authority and her faith in his wisdom to smother her conscience.

Jane heard an engine, and then footsteps, and she lifted her face off the bed, straining to see. Even though she knew better, she couldn't help holding her breath, hoping the police had arrived. But a key unlocked the door. The door swung open and she could see the blinding yellow-white light of the morning sun slice into the room and illuminate it for a second. When the door closed, the same three men were standing in the room.

Jane could see there had been a change. They seemed to know something she didn't, and it had lightened their mood, as though they'd been excused from a big, unpleasant job. She felt a sick fear for Shelby. The man who had driven her here said, "Hey, Wylie. You going to tell her now"

The tall man turned his head and glared at the driver. He said, "Yes, I am, Gorman."

"Sorry," the driver said. He looked at his feet.

Jane silently repeated the names to herself a dozen times. Wylie was the tall one, and Gorman was the fake cop who had served as the driver. She had an irrational fear that she would forget their names, even though she knew that this would be impossible. She would still remember them if she lived to be a hundred and the fresh burn scars on her back healed to invisibility. Wylie and Gorman.

Wylie stood over Jane with his arms folded on his chest. "Normally I'd kill Mr. Gorman for that, but it doesn't matter, because I've learned something I didn't know before. Want to know what it is"

"No," Jane said. She was still in restraints and lying facedown on the bed. She turned her face away from him.

"I'll bet you don't." He undid the Velcro strips that held her wrists, and grabbed her hair so she had to turn toward him onto her side. He grinned, and she noticed how his mouth was twisted to make a smile that was really a snarl. It was as though the meanness behind his eyes distorted his expressions. "I started to get curious about you the first time I heard about you. A lot of people go through the jails and courts every day, but the only ones who ever get away seem to be the ones where some clerk screws up the paperwork or something. Nobody breaks out. So I started asking around. And you'd be amazed at all the people who are interested in you."

Jane studied the blue eyes and saw spite in them, and greed. But what she saw that was most disturbing was joy. He was celebrating a victory.

"What have you done" she asked.

"In a way, it's good news for you. I'm arranging an auction for tomorrow. There are people who say they're willing to pay some really big money just for the privilege of meeting you in person for a leisurely chat."

Jane's stomach felt as though it had turned cold and heavy. She said, "Who"

"The bidders are coming here, so you'll see them. And they want to see you before they hand over the money. One is named Barraclough. He's the younger brother of someone you had an altercation with years ago, I understand. He owns a security company. There's a private detective named Killigan, who represents Robert Eckersly. You apparently took Eckersly's wife away from him. There's a gentleman named Grady Lee Beard, a bounty hunter, I think, who says you gave him a knife scar that runs from his collarbone to his navel. He says you got him arrested in an airport only a year or two ago."

Jane turned away.

"Don't you want to hear about all the bidders"

Jane thought, Now I understand why you don't care if I know your name.

"They all seem to have somebody they want to ask you about."

"I won't be telling anybody anything."

"No" He sighed. "What a shame. I don't think I'll want to watch. You know, when they were asking me questions to see if you were the same woman, every one of them mentioned those blue eyes. I was relieved that I hadn't popped them out. That was coming up soon."

"Why didn't you"

"You passed out. I'm glad I didn't do anything so they wouldn't recognize you. Now that I know how valuable you are, I realized I can't afford you. I have other ways to find Jimmy Shelby. He's got a sister, and he's a regular good old boy, who will probably make some dumb-ass mistakes and get caught. So tomorrow when the bidders get here, you go on the auction block." He turned to the others. "Maybe we ought to actually build an auction block. What do you think, Gorman Maloney"

The one who had shot her said, "Was that necessary"

"Sorry, Mr. Maloney. Just having a little fun."

Now she had all their names. Wylie. Gorman. Maloney.

Wylie laughed, turned away, and went to the door. "I've got some stuff to do. You two keep an eye on her. A couple of those bastards might be smart enough to come early and try to steal the merchandise." He went out the door and locked it.

Wylie was gone all morning, so Gorman went out to buy hamburgers and french fries and milk shakes for lunch. Jane had been fed intravenously, and it had been days since she had eaten solid food, so the lunch caused cramps, but then, hour by hour, she felt better and stronger. Wylie didn't return by dinnertime, and Gorman and Maloney grumbled. Maloney went out to buy the food this time. They let Jane sit in her bed and eat without restraints. Jane ate quickly. She knew now that this was going to be her last night before these men sold her. Once she was in the hands of any of the likely bidders, her chance of survival would end. She saw Gorman get up to throw away his trash, so she lay back in her bed. When Maloney went to the bathroom, she lay on her stomach and wrapped the Velcro restraint around her left wrist to tie it to the bed frame, then lay on her stomach. She put her right hand under the sheet so it couldn't be seen. She hoped that both men would glance in her direction and assume the other had made her secure. Then she arranged herself so she could open one eye a slit and see the rest of the big room.

After Maloney, Gorman, and Jane had eaten, the two men went to the steel door, looked outside, then locked it. She could hear them fiddling with something that clanked, but she closed her eyes. They were more worried about the bidders taking Jane than about her making an escape, and she had to keep them confident.

They came closer to her. Jane caught sight of Gorman's watch, so she knew it was ten in the evening when Gorman and Maloney made an agreement. Each of them would stay awake to keep watch for four hours. The first shift was to be Maloney's. He sat at the table near Jane's bed drawing pictures on the backs of some medical papers that the nurse had left. Jane could see the drawings were the sort that ten-year-old boys drew, fighter planes diving low toward a stronghold made of piled-up boxlike structures, strafing them with machine guns. A second wave came in higher, releasing large bombs from their bellies. After a while he obliterated the defenders with a couple of large, puffy explosions.

Next Maloney drew a few pictures of women, all with exaggerated breasts and bottoms, and impossibly thin waists. He wasn't very good at hands or feet, and when he got to the faces, he drew big, lipsticked mouths and cowlike eyes, but kept drawing bad noses and erasing them until they were gray smears. At last he tired of making art. He sat on the couch near Jane and stared at the closed door to the office where Gorman was sleeping, then at his watch. After a time his head tipped backward, his eyes closed, his mouth gaped, and Jane heard him snoring.