Part 8 (1/2)
”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?”