The Cure. Part 8

"Your information is wrong. I'm a veterinarian. There's nothing I can do for you."

Marsh laughed a sudden, barking sound that sent more foul breath her way. "Come now, Doctor. Do you think I'm stupid? Please look at the TV." He pointed past her.

Leah turned and watched as Tal Nova, who'd remained standing by the closed office door, went to the entertainment center and did something with a remote control. The flat-screen television came to life, and she was startled to see herself on the screen.

Next to her was the dog she'd Cured the previous week, the one with the broken legs.

The tape continued to show her shaving the dog's legs and wrapping them in unnecessary bandages.

Still hoping to convince him she was an ordinary person, Leah tried to argue. "I don't see what this proves. I was taking care of a dog. That's what I do."

"Yes, but this is what the dog looked like before Tal had it brought to your clinic."

Tal pushed another b.u.t.ton, and the video changed to show the injured animal lying in the backseat of a car, its legs twisted and broken, blood all over its body.

Leah turned back to face Marsh, but couldn't find any words to say. They had her. She couldn't deny it, but she didn't want to admit it, either. Not out loud.

"Now, I'm a reasonable man," Marsh continued, leaning back in his chair. "I don't expect you to do this for free. So I'm prepared to make you a generous offer. One hundred thousand dollars, donated to your clinic, for you to use any way you see fit."

One hundred thousand dollars? Leah knew the shock must be evident on her face. With that kind of money she could buy new equipment, hire a second a.s.sistant, maybe even offer discounts or free services to people who couldn't afford to pay for their pets' care. All for something she could do with just a touch.

Then reality returned.

"No, I...I can't. You don't understand." She felt close to tears, heard the frustration in her voice.

"Can't, or won't?"

"I can't!" Frustration bubbled up but she didn't try to control it. "You think you know everything, but you don't. I don't just wave a magic wand over a dog and, presto, it's Cured. What I do is more like surgery. I remove the sickness, the injury. But then..." She paused for breath.

"Yes?" Marsh was staring intently at her.

"It doesn't disappear. I have to put it somewhere else. Put it in something else." She waited to see if he'd understand.

He did. His eyes went wide as he made the connection.

"The gunman at the McDonald's. He wasn't shot."

Leah shook her head. "No. I just transferred the injuries from J...from the police officer to the man who was threatening me. That's how it always works. For the animals, I keep terminal, aged strays from the shelter at my clinic. When I need to Cure someone's pet, I transfer the sickness to the animal that's already dying, one I can't Cure because too many people already know it's on its deathbed. I do it at the same time I administer the euthanasia. That's the part your cameraman missed."

She sat back in her chair, exhausted from her admission. "That's why I can't Cure you. I have to complete the circle within a few hours, or whatever I've taken inside me becomes a permanent part of me."

Tal Nova spoke up for the first time, startling her. She'd forgotten he was there. "You mean, if you cure Mr. Marsh, but you don't touch someone else, you'll end up with the liver cancer?"

"Within hours. So unless you have a terminal dog or cat here, I can't help you. If something happened on the way back to the clinic, and we didn't get there in time... " The rest of her statement hung in the air.

"So, that would be the only thing stopping you," Marsh said, his voice slow and thoughtful.

"Well, yes. I mean, if you wanted to come to my clinic tomorrow, after hours-"

"No, I'm afraid that won't do. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I can't appear ill or it might lead to the board calling for me to step down. It has to be tonight."

Leah shook her head. "I've already explained that I can't. Not tonight."

"Maybe this will change your mind." Tal leaned past her and placed a photograph of John Carrera on the desk. It had been taken from a distance, and showed him unlocking the door to a house that she a.s.sumed was his.

"Where did you get this?"

"Doesn't concern you," Tal said. He pointed at the picture. "What should concern you is what will happen to your policeman friend if you don't do what you're told."

"Listen to him, Doctor." Marsh spoke before Leah could think of anything to say. "Mr. Nova is deadly serious. His skills in such matters are exceptional."

Leah looked down at the picture, her heart pounding. Just as she'd feared, she'd gotten herself involved with people a lot worse than white-collar criminals. She wanted to leap from the chair and run out of the office. Scream for help. Anything.

But even if they let her leave the building, which she doubted, they'd hurt John. She couldn't let that happen.

"Fine. I'll do it. But you have to take me to the clinic right after."

"Of course, Dr. DeGarmo. We wouldn't want any harm to come to you. All I want is to be well again, and then you can forget this meeting ever took place. Now, what do I have to do?"

"Just sit there." Leah stood up and walked around the desk. Marsh's lower abdomen, previously hidden behind the desk, glowed a faint green, a glow she knew only she could see.

She reached out and took Marsh's hand in hers. Electric fire raced through her, and she felt herself go rigid. Marsh's body spasmed beneath her hands like he'd touched a live wire.

"Aaah!" His voice was a strangled choke, as if his throat had constricted too much to allow air through.

Then the surge of pain was gone, and Leah collapsed to her knees. Her vision faded, and white spots circled in the darkness.

"What the f.u.c.k did you do to him?" a distant voice shouted.

The thick carpet cus.h.i.+oned her head as it hit the floor. She struggled to focus on the dark shape before her, and it slowly took form, becoming the angry face of Tal Nova. He held a gun in one hand, pointed at her.

She reached a hand out to him but he stepped back.

"Oh no you don't. You keep your hands to yourself or I'll blow your f.u.c.kin' head off. Did you do it?"

Leah nodded, tried to speak. Her mouth still didn't want to work, although her vision had returned to normal. She took a deep breath, then another. Strength crept back into her limbs.

"He's Cured," she whispered.

"She's right, Tal. Look at me."

Marsh stood up, and even from her position on the floor Leah could see the difference. His hollow cheeks had filled in again, and his flesh had a healthy, tanned look. Gone were the circles under his eyes and the lines of pain around his mouth. The bald spots on his head from the chemotherapy had filled in with thick, grayish-brown hair, and he looked fifteen years younger. Even his suit seemed to fit better, no longer hanging off skeletal arms and shoulders.

"Amazing," he said, holding his hands out in front of him. "I can't thank you enough. Your payment will be provided via company check, for tax purposes. Tal will take you to the clinic." Turning to Tal, he added, "Come right back here when you're done. We have a lot of work to do tonight."

"Let's go." Tal waved the gun at Leah. "Get up. We're gonna walk nice and slow to the elevator."

Leah used the desk to pull herself to her feet. She kept quiet as she walked toward the door, until Marsh spoke from behind her.

"Dr. DeGarmo?"

She looked back. "What?"

He gave her a brief smile. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks." She was happy that her tone sounded as sarcastic as she'd intended. Marsh shrugged and spun his chair around, putting his back to her.

Still keeping several feet between them, Tal motioned toward the door. "Move it, Doc. We've still got a long ride."

Mention of the car ride reminded her that the seeds of Marsh's cancer were already growing in her body, and she increased her pace.

Suddenly all she wanted to do was get out of the building and back to her old life.

Del McCormick sat up as the limousine containing Tal Nova and the lady vet emerged from the Marsh Enterprises executive garage and headed for the West Side Highway. He pulled out of his parking s.p.a.ce and eased into the evening traffic, keeping a few cars between them.

He'd been watching the two of them for a few days now, ever since the episode with the dog. He wasn't the only one, either. A couple of times he'd caught sight of a short, stocky Hispanic who seemed to be keeping tabs on DeGarmo. He figured it was one of Nova's hired help.

The idea of crossing Tal Nova wasn't one he'd considered lightly. The big ex-football player had a reputation for being ruthless and s.a.d.i.s.tic. That, along with the fact the man was a freaking genius who always covered his tracks perfectly, made him a formidable opponent.

But to get his hands on someone like DeGarmo, Del was willing to take some risks. She was walking gold; he knew there were plenty of people who'd pay him enough for her that he could retire to a beach house for the rest of his life.

The trick was making sure he couldn't be linked to any kidnapping.

He followed the limo onto the West Side Highway North. Odds were it was taking the doctor home again after her meeting with Marsh. But why was Tal along for the ride?

"Only one way to find out," Del whispered to himself as he flicked on the radio.

The drive across the George Was.h.i.+ngton Bridge and down the Palisades Parkway was as uneventful as the earlier ride had been, when he'd tailed the limo to the doctor's house. As he'd expected, they took the exit for Rocky Point. However, he was almost caught by surprise when the limo headed for the center of town instead of DeGarmo's house.

"Now what are they up to?"

By the time they reached the clinic, Leah's guts were in a knot and she felt weak and feverish. At first she'd thought the stomach pains were simply nervousness, but all too soon she realized it was the cancer blooming. The sickness had come on faster than almost any other time she'd ever used the Cure.

Maybe because Marsh was so close to death? she wondered as the car came to a blessed stop.

"Stay right there," Tal told her. He got out and checked the building, peeking through the doors into the dark waiting area. Then he came around and opened her door.

Leah made sure not to place her hands anywhere near him. His entire demeanor had changed, going from scary but polite, to downright hostile. Unlike the ride into the city, Tal had given her his undivided attention the entire way home, sitting as far away from her as possible and keeping his gun trained on her. The one time she tried to speak, to let him know she wouldn't pa.s.s it on to him, he said "shut up" and gave her a look that she deciphered as equal parts fear and hatred.

The kind of look she'd always expected she'd get from people if they ever found out her secret.

A wave of dizziness washed over her and she paused, hanging on to the car door for a moment. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to keep her equilibrium.

"Hurry it up," growled Tal.

"Just give me a moment," she said, shocked to hear how weak her voice sounded.

"I'm not helping you inside, so you better have enough strength left to walk in on your own. Unless you want to die right here in the parking lot."

"f.u.c.k you," she whispered. After one more breath, she opened her eyes and walked slowly and carefully to the door. Her hand and arm twitched in time to the cramps racking her body as she unlocked the door and deactivated the alarm system. Once it was off, she stumbled across the waiting area to the bas.e.m.e.nt steps. Clinging to the railing, she hurried down and went to the first of the two occupied cages.

She opened the small door and reached inside. "I'm sorry, Pumpkin," she told the Irish setter. Already dying of its own cancer, it barely lifted its head to look at her. She grabbed one of its paws and immediately felt the electric spark that signaled the release of the sickness inside her. Expelling the illness wasn't nearly as painful as delivering the Cure, but it still hurt.

On the receiving end, Pumpkin jerked and yipped once, then went still.

"Holy s.h.i.+t," Tal said from the bottom of the stairs. "You killed that dog in like one second. You were that sick?"

Leah got to her knees and turned around, all her strength returned as if she'd never been ill.

"Sick? I just Cured a man who was dying of liver cancer. I took it inside me and carried it all the way here. Of course I was that f.u.c.king sick!" She didn't mention that part of the reason Pumpkin died so quickly was that his already weak system had been overloaded by the new illness. Screw him. Let him think she could have killed him instantly with a touch. Serves him right to be scared. G.o.d knew she'd been frightened enough the last few days.

He raised an eyebrow and his lips curled just a little at one corner. "You sound better now. C'mon, I want to get you home. Your work might be done for the night but mine's not." He waggled the gun, not pointing it directly at her, but reminding her he still held it.

"Not yet. I have to put the body in the freezer. It can't stay here overnight."

Leah grabbed the seventy-pound dog and pulled him out of the cage. "A little help would be nice," she said, glancing at Tal.

He just shook his head.

"Fine. I'll do it myself."

She wrapped Pumpkin in a large towel and dragged him over to a small cold room, where she laid the dog on the floor, still covered. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"You done?" Tal asked.

"Yes." She shut the door.

"Why did you apologize to the dog? It's dead."

She headed for the stairs, not looking at the man she was coming to despise more and more each second. "Because I had to do what I did without putting him to sleep first. I don't like animals to feel pain because of me. And because I had to leave him there, alone in a cold room, until tomorrow, when normally I'd take the body right away to the funeral home for cremation."

"Lotta work for a dead dog."

His casual tone pushed her over the edge. She turned around to face him, had the pleasure of looking down at him for the first time since he'd shown up in her life, because he was three steps below her. "It's not just a dead dog! It was my patient. I'm a doctor. I care for these animals. People love their pets the same way they love their children. More, sometimes. You-"

She never got to finish the sentence. She reached toward him, one finger pointed at his chest. Faster than her eyes could follow, his free hand came up and slapped at her arm, sending her whole body into the cinder block wall of the stairway. Before she'd even managed to grab the railing he'd jumped up the steps and had a handful of her hair in his fist.

With a powerful twisting motion, he spun her around so that her back was against his chest. He pulled harder on her hair, forcing her head backward until she was staring at the ceiling. At the same time he jammed the gun under her chin.

"Don't you ever do that again, lady. Don't talk to me that way, don't point at me, and don't ever try to touch me. You do, and I'll blow your head off and toss you next to the mutt. Now get moving!"

He pushed her forward. She stumbled and clutched at the rail to steady herself. Her scalp felt like it was on fire, the pain beating in rapid fas.h.i.+on, in time with her heart. She could still feel the cold steel pressed against her skin, smell the sweet cinnamon odor of his breath next to her face.

He's not lying.

She remembered Marsh's words. "Listen to him, Doctor. His skills in such matters are exceptional."

Apparently no longer afraid to touch her, Tal held her arm in a tight grip as they walked across the parking lot, and pushed her roughly into the car. He kept a brooding silence on the ride to her house, only speaking when they pulled up in front.