Resonance, J. B. Everett [the top 100 crime novels of all time txt] 📗

dropping lower and lower.” Becky’s soft sigh came to him through the air that was suddenly too warm in the little tent with the tiny sun contained in the space heater. “Maybe next time.”

 

“When is next time?”

 

His heart soared. And crashed. He might not figure it out in time.

 

“Maybe an hour. They’re afraid they’re losing her.” Her lips pressed into a sad smile. But like everyone else, Becky had gotten used to the idea of losing people.

 

He tried a very un-David-like move, and hoped it would get filed under ‘everything is weird these days’. “I think I’m just going to sit here with her.”

 

He hoped that Becky understood that he’d like to do it alone. It worked too well. Doctor Sorenson’s sweet smile held the belief that he was truly Jillian’s lover, wanting to sit and hold her hand. And obligingly she ducked out while he held back the laughter that threatened from the irony of it all. And for a moment he just stared at the syringe in his hand.

 

He did sit vigil beside Jillian’s bed for a while. At least it would have looked that way to anyone who stopped in. But his mind was churning, trying to figure out how to get his solution into one of those syringes.

 

Then he wouldn’t have to pull the trigger himself. He could just wait until a tech picked up the right syringe and did the job for him.

 

He sat there staring at her, until he was startled by another tech beside him. He hadn’t heard the kid enter, just jumped when the finger tapped his shoulder, and the young voice asked would he please scoot over so that Dr. Brookwood could be examined?

 

David blinked a few times and didn’t say anything, just watched while the boy, who must have been no older than twenty, went through all the same motions of taking vital signs that the doctor had. He cranked up the oxygen, opened the flow on the IV a touch, scribbled notes in the chart and left.

 

David’s own heartbeat set up a steady countdown. He had to do something quick, get that syringe traded out. He was reaching for the drawer when the tech burst back through the tent flaps again. The sun was up high enough that light filtered through all the pores in the tent, and the tent flaps let in just enough that a person who was paying a little attention would know that someone had come in.

 

David nearly jumped clean out of his skin, his senses hyper-alert with the work he was about to do. But the tech was paying no attention to him. As long as David was out of his way, the practiced movements came off like clockwork.

 

His eyes focused with fascination, David watched as the guy pulled the first syringe from the left of the row in the drawer. For a few brief moments he executed the precise rhythmic set up, yanking the needle cap with his teeth, he swabbed the rubber covered spot on the Y-tubing, and injected the full syringe. With his eyes transfixed on the machinery and the numbers it was blurping out, the tech’s hands slid the used syringe into the red plastic biohazard box mounted behind the countertop.

 

Again David watched with perverse fascination while her heartrate spiked and then plummeted again.

 

The tech sighed in defeat and turned to leave.

 

David almost let him go, but blurted out at the last minute, stopping the tech. “Wasn’t that fast? I thought it was going to be an hour before you tried again.”

 

The tech nodded solemnly. “Her sats are too low. We’ve bumped it up.”

 

David took a swallow, and tried his best to look like a heartsick lover. He hadn’t tried to act since high school theater. His father hadn’t come to see him in that performance either, and for a brief moment he reminded himself that this Eden had a snake. Swinging his focus back to the job at hand he started to ask how long it would be before they came back, but he stopped himself, knowing it would be soon enough. “I’m not sure if I can watch this. If I leave, can I just come back and sit with her?”

 

The tech tilted his head, and gave a sad smile. “Of course you can, Dr. Carter. We don’t mind.”

 

David made short work of plucking the left-most syringe from the drawer and squirting the contents onto the ground before carefully pulling the plunger from his own fat vial. He stuck the needle in the back and drew up the pure stuff, trying to splurt out the air bubbles, then delicately aligning it with the level on the other syringes.

 

He replaced it at the left-hand side of the drawer and carefully shut it. His feet had almost made it the tent door when he spun and went back - switching the pure syringe to the second spot.

 

It would be soon enough.

 

And he would be nowhere near when it happened.

 

Home beckoned.

 

Jordan’s hands had a fine tremor. He could read the same in Jillian’s, but knew that hers was due to the medications. His was due to the fact that he was about to kill a man.

 

As they walked quietly back toward the tent where David lay, his brain was anything but silent. That was the tent where Jillian had spent so many hours, unmoving and unresponding. She

 

wouldn’t go there again. Not after this. She wouldn’t be reminded of it, and neither would he. They would pack everything up and head back to Atlanta.

 

Landerly had flown out this morning, leaving only a note. There were a few lines that made Jordan believe that the old man knew what they were up to and was heading out of town to get himself a little more of that ‘plausible deniability’ he liked so much.

 

Inside his jacket pocket, Jordan’s gloved hand made a warm nest where it curled around the syringe.

 

Outside of his pocket he tried to keep himself relaxed and looking less than suspicious. But his lungs breathed in a little too deeply, and he forced his eyes to wander the landscape. Although the sky cut bright shades of blue above him the daytime hours were cold now, too. And the air smelled heavy with tiny shards of ice. Snow wasn’t far away, and he wanted to be back in Atlanta before it fell.

 

He wouldn’t be able to stand being trapped in this town when the ice came and made all the roads through the surrounding mountains impassable. It was the exact reason the government had built the town here, and the exact reason he had to get out. His heart hammered with it, and he wondered absently if he would suffer a major coronary at a relatively young age from all the stress he was enduring now.

 

The heat hit him first, signaling that he should pay attention. He had stepped through the tent flap Jillian held open for him, and he was assaulted again by the vision of this man lying on the gurney. When David was awake he was every inch holier-than-thou. Richer-than-thou. Betterthan-thou. And funny and charming enough to be fairly likable anyway.

 

There was going to be a perverse satisfaction in pushing the plunger.

 

“Can we do it this time?” Her voice was the only organic sound in the tent. Barely loud enough to be distinguishable over the beeping and printing noises that provided a lush synthetic jungle.

 

Every time they had decided it was time to do it, they had talked themselves out of it. The last time, an hour and a half ago, they had talked themselves up to this. Their first concern had been that he was truly under. Not on some snap turnaround. When David had been out for just half an hour, they said he certainly wasn’t awake on the other side yet. If they stopped his heart before he awoke over there they might truly kill him. At an hour and a half they gave him until three hours under, just to be sure.

 

David’s vitals had taken the steady plunge they expected. He might well die on his own, they offered up all the possibilities, but Jordan knew that he and Jillian were just chickening out one way after another. And being smart, they were able to come up with really good arguments for allowing themselves to wait.

 

This was it though.

 

If they didn’t do it this time, David might wake back up.

 

Jordan ignored thoughts that told him he might really be killing the man. And that the woman at his side was delusional. With his feelings for her he couldn’t overlook his obvious bias. Yes, jail time was a definite option. Or perhaps he’d just suffer a simple lifetime of guilt.

 

He sighed as she pressed the Velcro on the tent flap together. “All right, keep watch.” He pulled the syringe from his pocket, quickly clenching it between his teeth and swabbed the IV tubing.

 

“Don’t you dare!”

 

He almost jumped, and nearly coughed out the syringe. “Wha?” It was all he could pronounce with the thing in his mouth.

 

“I’m doing it.”

 

Removing the potassium chloride so he could speak, he braced his fists at his hips and stared her down.

 

“Jillian, no.”

 

“Jordan, yes.” Her eyes were unrelenting, and matched her tone.

 

He felt his mouth open in protest. But as usual, Jillian’s brain worked faster than his and she shot him down before he even got a good aim.

 

“It’s my life I’m buying. I’ll pay for it myself.” Fire leapt in her gaze and she lunged for the needle in his hand.

 

Only then did he realize that he was stronger and taller than she was, and he could win this argument even if her little tongue was sharper. He jerked the needle over his head.

 

“Don’t you dare!”

 

“Dare? It’s done.” He shrugged, keeping the needle high while she plastered herself to him and jumped, attempting to reach what was way over her head. While he controlled the needle, he could think at his own pace. “Let me do it. If anyone suspects anything, they won’t suspect me.”

 

“Bullshit! You two have been circling each other like caged tigers for weeks now. But I’ll be damned if I know why. Anyone with a brain in their head would suspect you.”

 

Circling each other? It was that obvious? Jesus. But the needle was still out of her reach, despite numerous jumps. So he had time to think.

 

“You’re clearly mentally deranged. For God’s sake, you think you’re going back and forth to another planet!”

 

That stopped her in her tracks. “What?”

 

“That’s what they’ll say, Jillian. You’re high up on the suspect list, too, you know.” He kept his voice soft, but not soothing.

 

“Then even if they convict me they’ll put me in the psych ward, I’ll be out in no time. Give me the damned needle.”

 

She jumped again. And Jordan fought for another argument, another hurdle to put in her path. But again she thought it through before he did. “I’ll scale you like a tree.”

 

“I’d like to see you try.”

 

And try she did. He almost laughed, it felt like junior high all over again. Except the part where the argument was about who got to kill David. That sobered him up.

 

Again as he opened his mouth to argue, the words that filled the air were hers. “You do it. I’ll just sit down,” she stopped the useless jumping and lowered herself into the corner chair, tucking up her legs and letting loose a languid yawn, setting off coils of alarm in him, “and go to sleep.” Her head drifted down against the pole, her soft lashes fluttering shut and then going still.

 

His heartbeat stopped with her eye movement. “Damnit, Jilly!” It was practically a yell. People would come from all around to see what was going on. They’d both get locked up and David would come back. All this arced through his thoughts as he grabbed her shoulders and violently shook her awake.

 

“Here!” He slapped the needle into her hand. She played dirty, but with that threat he