Drowned Under Page 22

  Mandy and I let out the breaths we’d been holding in. Doc got out the equipment and was just sterilizing Howard’s little front leg, when my phone beeped.

  Mandy held up my phone. It was Ron Brazil.

  “Crap.” I was really hoping we could get Howard back on his feet and back into my purse before Brazil found out any of this. With any luck, he was far away. I stroked Howard’s head with one hand while I took the phone with another.

  “Finally. Where have you been?”

  “Trying to steal a boat. Everyone has security now!” I pulled the phone away from my ear and Doc and Mandy heard cursing, then “What the hell have you been doing?”

  “Trying to keep Howard away from the guys who were following me. I’ll be very happy to get him safely back to you.”

  “Good. Buzz me in.”

  “What?”

  “I’m downstairs. At the back entrance.”

  “How the holy hell do you know where I am?”

  “I dropped a GPS in your purse.”

  “What?”

  “Trust no one. Unlike you, I’m a professional.” I missed being able to slam down phones. Tapping a keypad was just sad. And unsatisfying.

  “Who was that?” Doc put down his swab.

  “How long will this take?”

  “About an hour,” Doc said. I couldn’t stall Brazil for an hour. My phone was already beeping again.

  This was just getting worse and worse. Now Doc would know Ron Brazil wasn’t a gigolo and Ron Brazil would know Doc wasn’t a doctor. Well, at least mutually beneficial blackmail was a possibility. We had to help Howard. There was nothing to do but face the music. Even if it was Philip Glass music. I handed Howard to Mandy.

  “He has a temper,” I said. “I’ll go get him. It’ll give you time to hide anything that’s breakable.” Mandy gestured around her. The whole room was breakable.

  As I made my way back down the stairs, I hoped at least Ron could tell me Sister Ellery was okay. I was emergencied out for one day.

  I cracked the door. “Have you lost those guys?”

  Brazil was in all black, including a balaclava bunched over his pompadour wig. “Do I strike you as a half-wit?”

  “No comment.” I opened the door.

  “He’s here?” I nodded. He punched the stairwell wall. “Why?”

  “It’s a long story. There have been some complications.”

  “I don’t like complications.”

  “Bullshit. You live for them,” I said. I talked as we headed up. I’d only gotten to the part about resorting to Uncle Leon’s “contact” for help when we got to the office door.

  “But she doesn’t know, right? She hasn’t seen him? No one’s seen him?”

  I sighed. “Like I said, there have been complications. Don’t throw anything, you might scare Howard.” I opened the door.

  Ron Brazil took in Mandy, Doc, the IV bag, and the medical supplies. He shook with fury, his bow legs trembling like two terrified apostrophes.

  With those legs, the disguise was useless. Doc would know exactly who this was.

  To Ron Brazil’s credit, he started in a low voice. “This was a sacred, vital, and above all, secret mission. Do you not understand the concept of secrecy? How difficult is that, really? I leave you for a few hours and you turn a solo assignment into a bloody book club! I was right. You ruin everything!” He reached for a jar filled with tiny eyeballs and I barely got to it before he did.

  “Hey! Ron!” Doc held up his hands. “It is you, Ron, isn’t it? This animal is seriously dehydrated. He could die in the next hour if we don’t get fluids in him. Cyd’s just trying to keep him alive. She’s tried to keep the secret the best she could. She even tried to make me put in the IV with a blindfold on. None of us are going to say anything. We understand what the stakes are, okay? Now will you let me help him?”

  Brazil walked over and looked at Howard. He let out a long breath. “You can do something?”

  “If you’ll let me. Cyd?”

  I sat down and took Howard back in my lap. He felt even lighter. I kissed him on the head and held him by the belly while Doc took him by his paw and prepared the needle.

  “Hang in there, Howard, this might sting a little, but you’re a fricking tiger. It’s nothing for you.” To distract myself, I groped for social niceties.

  “Ron this is Amanda Heep. She is the taxidermist at the museum.”

  “Taxidermist? Oh my God, woman, they’re murderers. Taxidermists are murderers!”

  I looked at Mandy and rolled my eyes. “You’re an idiot. I live with one and he’s a pussy cat. Plus, Mandy’s mother took care of the Tasmanian tigers in the Hobart Zoo, she cried when she saw Howard, and she saved all our asses today. Mandy, this is Ron.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “It’s Grey Hazelnut.”

  This time I wasn’t close enough to save the eyeballs.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Howard yelped, which I hoped meant he was closer to his old self. When the tiny eyeball marbles stopped rolling, Brazil lunged for my throat.

  Mandy stepped in the way and grabbed his arms. “Stop! She didn’t tell me. I knew Grey Hazelnut was the only person who could possibly pull this off. Besides, I’ve seen you before. I was at the echidna protest. Don’t worry, you’re my hero.”

  Brazil slumped into Mandy’s desk chair. “I can’t even steal a bloody boat.”

  “I have a boat,” Mandy said.

  An hour and a half later, Howard was his old self, pacing the length of the room and ferreting out the last shreds of bacon bits from my Balenciaga, and Doc had given Brazil a special powder to mix with Howard’s water for the next few days. Though we wanted to help make sure Howard made it to the island, two people were less conspicuous than four, so Brazil insisted Doc and I say goodbye to Howard and let them head to Maria Island on their own.

  “What should I tell Sister Ellery? If I can find her?”

  “What do you mean, if you can find her?”

  “She went to The Fountain and I haven’t seen her. Have you talked to her?”

  “No. How could you let her go there? That creep Pierce Butler is a con man. Watch out for him. Can I trust you to find her while I do this?” He started to pace. “Of course I can’t. You’ll just screw that up too. Do I have to do everything?”

  “You think I can’t handle that pompous preppy ass?”

  I was about to deliver a roundhouse kick to his head when he started laughing.

  “Pierce Butler’s a dick but you’re right, he’s no match for the AntiChristine.” Mandy and Doc stared at each other. “Tell her to wait for me in Sydney. Time to go.”

  Mandy and I had only known each other for a few hours, but it had been an intense few hours. I couldn’t cry. That would be ridiculous. Still, I felt a strange kinship with her, and Black Friday sales-level gratitude. How could I ever repay her for what she’d done for me, and more importantly, for Howard and his whole species?

  My response felt totally lame. “Sorry about the eyeballs. I’ll get Uncle Leon to send you some.” She didn’t strike me as a hugger, but I tried.

  “Anything for a mythical Redondo.” She hugged back. I was right, hugging was not her strong suit. “Hey,” she said, moving to her desk, “any chance this might make it back to Brooklyn in one piece? I’d love for your Uncle Leon to see it.”

  She lifted a tiny, exquisite stuffed hummingbird with a shimmering green chest.

  “Absolutely,” I said. I’ll make sure it does.” She bubble-wrapped it and lowered into a sturdy box. I put it in my purse. “He’ll love it. And thank you. Really.” I handed her my card. “If you ever need travel help, or come to Brooklyn, you’ll let me know, right?”

  Brazil gestured to his watch, then the tiger.

  I squatted down and looked at Howard—magical, mythi
cal beast—with his long face and stripes that could have been drawn on with a calligraphy pen. He gave me a particularly nasty nip, then, for the first time, licked the bite on my hand. I did tear up then. I couldn’t help it.

  “Good tiger.”

  I was loathe to let him out of my sight, but if there was anyone who would fight to the death for him, it was Grey Hazelnut aka Ron Brazil. He scooped Howard up and gave Doc a grudging nod.

  “Thanks for the privilege, Brazil.”

  “I’m glad you know that. People are a dime a dozen. There’s only one of him.”

  Brazil was right. There was only one Howard, the hope for a whole species in a world which didn’t seem to care what disappeared, only about how much profit they could make for what was the most rare. God, I hoped they made it okay and, as scandalous as it sounded, I hoped Howard had lots of little thylacine babies with his two sisters.

  Mandy waved goodbye, then followed Brazil.

  As the door closed, Doc put his arm around me and I turned my face into his chest, so he wouldn’t see me crying. He let me stay there awhile, then pulled me around to face him.

  “Hey, no one may ever know it, but tonight, you’re the most important and beloved woman in Tasmania.”

  “As long as I get on a magnet,” I said. “Tea towels are impractical.”

  He brushed my tears away, then put his hand on my hip. “Want to play night at the museum?”

  We didn’t get very far. Before we were one landing down, Doc had my hands pinned above my head and was kissing his way from my forehead down. With the day I’d had, I didn’t have the strength to resist him. Who am I kidding? I didn’t want to. I was still in love with Roger, but he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth. Doc might be lying too, but he had saved Howard, at least. When he got to my mouth, I insisted he stay, tangling my fingers in his hair and pressing my lips (and everything else) against him. When I couldn’t breathe anymore, I let him continue down. He’d just gotten to my clavicle when his beeper went off.

  “Are you on duty?” I gasped.

  He pulled back, I’d like to think reluctantly, looked at the beeper, then called in. “I’m three minutes away.” He grabbed my hand. “Come on. It’s Sister Ellery.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  Thank God I didn’t have flats slowing me down as I sprinted with Doc down the cobblestones and across Davey Street, toward the ship. He had his bag with him, which I hoped had human stuff too, so we went straight to Sister Ellery’s cabin. Margy Constantinople was there with her. She looked worried.

  I wanted to run straight to Sister Ellery, but I held back and let Doc in first, then pulled Margy aside.

  “What happened?”

  “Lisa was leaving the Drunken Admiral party and found her wandering on Davey Street. She didn’t know where she was and couldn’t tell us how she got there. She doesn’t seem to be physically hurt, but we were worried she might have had a stroke.”

  My old friend looked miniscule, even on a cruise ship bed. She had been there so many times for me: when I skinned my knees, when Herbie Mankowitz decided to jerk out my first front tooth, when I didn’t understand the pluperfect tense. At least I was here. But it made me question this whole idea of perpetual cruise versus nursing home. If she’d been in Greece and in trouble, she might have been all alone. I moved closer to the bed, but I wasn’t close enough to hear Doc’s whispered conversation with her, only to see him shine a light into her eyes, then take her pulse and her temperature. I saw him reach into his bag for a bottle shaped like it was giving everyone the finger. He held it for a minute, took her pulse again, and put it back.

  He rose and waved me over. Even asleep, she looked confused. My stomach made a fist. I bent down and kissed her forehead. “I’m here, Sister Ellery. And Ron will be back soon.”

  Her eyes popped open. “Who’s Ron?”

  Oh, God. What had happened? I sat beside her on the bed. Doc settled into the chair by the balcony.

  I turned to him. “Did she say anything else?”

  “Something about a money market account? She wasn’t making much sense.”

  “Is it a stroke? Alzheimer’s?” He shook his head. “What? I can take it.”

  “No. She’ll be okay tomorrow. She’s been drugged.”

  “Drugged? Drugged with what?”

  “An opioid. I can’t tell exactly what kind unless I do blood work, but I don’t want to put her through that tonight.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  “Her pupils are the size of walnuts. Even a vet knows what that means.”

  “She was at The Fountain.” I told him about the box of Dolophine and my suspicions. “Could that be it?”

  He considered this. “That’s a pretty serious accusation, but yes.”

  “It’s nothing to what I’m going to do to them if I’m right. Can’t you do anything for her now?”

  “There is a drug that will bring someone out of an overdose, but it’s like using epinephrine for anaphylaxis. It’s a real shock to the system. Given her age and condition, I’m inclined to let her sleep it off instead.”

  “Was that the weird bottle you took out of your bag? The antidote?”

  “Yeah. It’s called Narcan, it’s a brand of noloxone. They use it on opioid addicts. It’s a nasal spray.”

  “What? You save someone from an overdose with nasal spray? How is that possible?”

  “Clinical trials.”

  “Haha. Can I see?”

  He pulled it out of the bag. It was a short, squat bottle, with three nozzles—two short ones and a long one in the middle, hence the obscene gesture reference.

  “How weird.” I held onto it. “I always thought if someone overdosed you had to do that Pulp Fiction needle in the heart thing.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, like most things in the movies, it’s absolutely true.” He leaned over to check Sister Ellery’s pulse again. While he did, I palmed the bottle and tucked it into my Balenciaga. He didn’t know Harriet had methadone in her blood when she died, but I did. There was entirely too much methadone floating around this ship for my liking.

  “You used to have to, but this is a lot less stressful. For the administrator, at least. Like I said, it’s traumatic to the patient. They can jerk awake and become immediately violent, for example.”

  “She would hate that. She’s a pacifist,” I said.

  “I figured, given her former profession.” He lay her hand down gently, like he had Howard’s. Then he reached for mine. “Do you want to come back to my cabin?”

  I did, but I couldn’t leave Sister Ellery.

  “I’d better stay here.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’ll take the floor.” He grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from the closet and arranged it at the foot of the bed.

  I threw him an inflatable neck pillow from my purse. “Will you be able to sleep?”

  “I got through the ‘staying up for seventy-two hours’ part of med school. I can sleep through, and on, anything.” He proceeded to prove it.

  I didn’t want to crowd Sister Ellery, or frighten her. I found the chenille dressing gown I’d helped her pick out in Bay Ridge. I figured she wouldn’t mind my draping it over myself in the chair. It smelled like home.

  I felt a sharp, sudden desire to eat eggplant Parmesan, while being guilted by my mother and chastised by my aunt. I hoped they’d had fun at all the holiday parties, though that seemed unlikely. Once it was a decent hour there, I’d call them. As I looked over at my favorite junkie nun and impostor veterinarian, it was hard to believe it was Christmas Eve.

  Chapter Forty-five

  “Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen.”

  “Ahhhh!” Sister Ellery started the groan, then Doc and I joined in.

  “Christ on a bike!” she threw her alarm clock at the door. �
��There is no feast of Stephen! Shut the hell up!”

  We heard the thump of carolers high-tailing it down the hall.

  Sister Ellery noticed us, started to sit up, then reversed back to the pillow. “What happened to my head?”

  Relieved she was back to her old self, I ran for a water bottle. By the time I’d made her drink the whole thing, Doc had a couple of pills out as a chaser.

  “Hi, Sister,” he said. “You’re going to need these. Do you mind if I do a quick check for vital signs?”

  “Did I die or something?”

  “Not yet.” Doc checked her pulse. “There’s always time.”

  “I told you he was a keeper, Cyd.” She grinned at me. “Now what in blazes is going on? Why did you both sleep in my room? Don’t sugarcoat it.”

  We didn’t. She listened, then nodded.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” I handed her another bottle of water, which she drained. I could understand why opioid users might wind up bloated.

  “So many people had told me about The Fountain, and Ron was busy, so I thought I would ride with Mary Lou and Jack out there.”

  “Mary Lou and Jack from the Captain’s Table went too?” I liked them. I hoped they weren’t pimps for Pierce Butler. Or tied up and drugged somewhere.

  “I didn’t see them after we arrived. That Butler guy took me in first. He said he never wanted a single person to feel less important than a couple, that so many widows feel invisible.”

  That was probably true. Yet another reason not to get married. Ever.

  “What a load of crap he was. But I was there, and they offered a free sauna. Afterwards they gave me some lovely tea. I think they said it was African. I was feeling sleepy, and they said they had a Relaxation Area. The next thing I knew, I was freezing and I woke up here.

  Doc and I looked at each other.

  I got up. “Can I talk to you in the hallway?”

  After we were outside the door, I thought maybe telling Doc about the blood samples was a bad idea, but on the other hand, this could mean that Harriet was murdered, and maybe by someone from The Fountain. It made whatever happened to Sister Ellery and what might happen to any other Darling Cruise Line passengers who visited a much bigger deal. And telling the “Howard” secret had saved a species. I hoped.