“Someone help!”
Her lungs screamed. Her skin seared, and her body ached. She fell again. Her teammates tried to lift her, but she couldn’t move. Her cheek lay on the grass. Her airway was completely closed. There was no time left. She thrashed and clawed at her throat. Then she felt strong arms scoop her up. Rigo’s face floated above hers. He carried her, running as fast as he could go, jostling her burning form. He shouted something, but she could no longer hear his words. Her vision grayed at the edges.
Please God, she prayed. Please help me.
Chapter 25
November 14, 2014
Jocelyn pressed her cell phone tightly to her ear. With her free hand, she used her index finger to plug her other ear. She stood on the second floor of Dirk’s Gameplex, the floor without the giant arcade, but she still had trouble hearing Anita.
“What did you say?”
“How did it go with Rigo?” Anita said.
“Great, I think. I mean we’ve almost got him. Problem is I’m holding imaginary evidence over his head. That’s only going to work for another week or two before he gets wise and calls our bluff. I’m going to need more.”
Jocelyn couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard a sigh. Then, “What happens if you can’t find more?”
“I don’t know. I guess Trent brings him in and gives it his last, best shot, all or nothing. By the way, I might be able to help with the ‘more.’”
“Meaning what?”
“I went through the Rigos’ medicine cabinet. I found some pills I couldn’t identify. Could be nothing, but I’d like to take them to a pharmacy and see if we can find out what they are. I put them in my top, left desk drawer in an envelope.”
Anita let out a low whistle. “Damn, Rush. You’re ruthless.”
“Yeah, well, my client is dying so I have to do what I can to move things along. Speaking of Knox, have you heard from him?”
“No. I called, but no answer and no return call.”
“Same here. I’ll text Trent and ask him to go check on Knox.”
“How’s it going there?”
Jocelyn couldn’t suppress her smile. “Fantastic, actually. They’re hitting it off so well I doubt they’ve even noticed I’m gone.”
Anita laughed. “That’s great. Now get back in there and try not to think about work for a few hours.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Rush.”
“You’ll work on the pills?”
“Don’t make me come out there, Rush. I will kick your ass.”
Jocelyn chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”
She ended the call, shot off a quick text to Trent, and slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. She made her way down the steps to the cavernous lower level of Dirk’s Gameplex. It was bigger than her high school auditorium, filled with arcade games, and low lit in blue tones, with a bar and a few tables tucked along the far wall.
It had been shockingly easy to convince Olivia to meet Caleb. Jocelyn had feared she would reject even the idea of a man in her mother’s life, but on the contrary, her interest in him was feverish and endless. The entire drive to the Plymouth Meeting Mall, Olivia had peppered Jocelyn with questions about Caleb.
“Where did you meet him? Where did he come from? Is he old like Uncle Kevin? Is he a daddy? Does he have a gun? Does he like chicken nuggets?”
Jocelyn had done her best to keep up with the rapid-fire interrogation. Of course, once Olivia came face to face with Caleb, she clammed up, spending twenty minutes hiding behind Jocelyn’s leg, sneaking peeks at him, and giggling convulsively when he made silly faces at her. They sat in a booth and ordered burgers and chicken strips for Olivia. All it took was one trick with his straw wrapper, and Olivia was talking non-stop to Caleb. Forty-five minutes later, they were bonding over an extremely competitive game of Ninja Fruit while Jocelyn took Anita’s call.
Jocelyn searched the massive arcade and spotted Caleb and Olivia at a crane machine. Olivia’s arms were already filled with poor quality stuffed animals. She jumped up and down beside Caleb. Jocelyn was willing to bet he’d already dropped forty bucks in the arcade. Her stomach gave a rumble as she made her way across the floor to them. She felt the very beginnings of nausea and hoped it would go away. As she passed a knot of teenage boys gathered around the basketball games, her insides gurgled. Grateful that the din of the arcade games drowned out the sound, she covered her stomach with one hand and moved past them as quickly as she could.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Olivia called as Jocelyn walked up to them. “Look at all the prizes Caleb got!”
“Wow.” Jocelyn smiled. “That’s great, honey.”
Olivia’s brown eyes were wide as saucers. She squeezed the stuffed animals to her belly and bobbed her head in Caleb’s direction, her straight, light brown hair swishing over her shoulders. “And look! Look at Caleb’s butt.”
Jocelyn smiled uncertainly, suddenly feeling very hot. She tugged at the collar of her long-sleeved shirt. “Caleb’s butt?”
“It’s not what you think,” Caleb said. He winked and turned, revealing a bunch of arcade tickets stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans, trailing almost to the floor.
“Wow,” Jocelyn said again. She put a hand on the crane machine to steady herself. Heat spread over her body like a fast-moving rash. Beads of sweat popped up along her upper lip.
Caleb frowned at her. “You okay?”
Olivia asked, “Mommy, can we play some more?”
Jocelyn did her best to smile. “Sure,” she said. “Mommy might need to use the restroom anyway.”
Caleb reached out and touched her chin tenderly. “Joc, you look really pale.”
The nausea intensified. She wondered if she could make it to the bathroom before she vomited all over the place. “My stomach is upset,” she said. “I’m going to use the bathroom. You okay with Olivia?”
“Of course,” he said. He smiled at her, but concern darkened his visage.
She tried not to sprint to the ladies’ bathroom.
“If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming after you,” Caleb called.
She didn’t make it to a stall. Projectile vomit exploded from her body as soon as she crossed the threshold. She sprayed the doors of several stalls before crashing through one of them. She was only vaguely aware enough of being alone in the bathroom to be thankful for it. But she pitied the restaurant employee who would be tasked with cleaning up after her. She folded her body over the toilet, fitting her face into the hole. Every limb felt hot and weak. Sweat poured from every pore of her body, wicking her clothes to her skin, matting her hair against her cheeks and the back of her neck.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
She hadn’t been this sick since her first year as a detective when she and Kevin had gotten food poisoning from a steak shop in North Philadelphia. She was simultaneously horrified and relieved that she was out with Caleb at the moment. Horrified because she really didn’t want another human being to see her like this, but relieved because there was no way she could take care of Olivia as sick as she was, much less get home.
Her abdomen clenched viciously. She cried out and her body spasmed, spraying more vomit into the toilet and across the back of the stall.
How much had she eaten today?
She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket to call Caleb. She needed to go home. She needed her own bathroom. She needed privacy. The phone slipped out of her sweaty fingers and clattered to the tile floor. Her body convulsed again, bringing up more. Time became an endless, ever-looping vomit train with no destination in sight. She had no idea how long she was there before she saw Caleb’s black shoes and Olivia’s little Hello Kitty sneakers.