Carver

Chapter Ten- Jekyll and Hyde

The journey to the hospital was merely fifteen minutes away, yet it felt more akin to fifteen years. The atmosphere was tense. Luke gripped the steering wheel as though his entire being depended on it. Sarah had her left arm crossed over her chest with her right elbow nestled on top. Her fingertips brushed back and forth across her bottom lip in thought. Her eyes were fixed to a spot on the dashboard. Luke swallowed hard as he glanced sideways at Sarah. His skin stung mercilessly from sweat trickling down the side of his face and entering the gauges tracking over his jaw. The morning sun was much more intense than usual. Sarah’s fingers inched up her face and she gingerly massaged her temple. Luke raised his eyebrows.
“You okay?” asked Luke softly, eyes darting between the superior agent and the road ahead. Sarah gave out a frustrated groan and Luke immediately knew that she had not slept after their night of heated passion and was experiencing the beginnings of an intense migraine. Sarah squinted against the flickering of the sunlight as they passed a series of trees and cupped her hand around her eyes to shield them.
“You have a migraine starting, don’t you?”
“Mmhm,” mumbled Sarah, her head slowly lowering and her hand cradling the back of her neck. Sweat beaded under the pads of her fingers. A wave of nausea swept through every fiber of Sarah’s being. Her arm curled tighter around her waist as though she were trying to keep her internal organs within the confines of her abdomen. Luke quickly glanced at the visibly paling agent and pulled into an opening at the side of the road. He put the car into park and shifted in his seat so that he was facing Sarah. Cautiously, he reached forward, taking care not to startle her. His palm came to rest over the top of Sarah’s clammy hand on her neck. Sarah let out a shaky breath. Stars and nebulas appeared before Sarah’s eyes as she lowered her head further until it was between her parted knees.
“Sarah?”
“-m gonna.... Pass... Out...” pressed out Sarah, speech slurring. Luke felt Sarah’s head fall limp under his palm. Her hand slid from her neck and landed on the seat with a gentle thud. Feeling somewhat helpless, Luke gently massaged the back of her neck.
“It’s okay, Sarah. I’m right here.” Luke turned up the air conditioning in the vehicle in a bid to cool the unconscious woman beside him. A small groan sounded as Sarah started to come to. She struggled slightly to sit herself up. Luke slid his hand down to the top of her back and grasped her upper arm with the other to ease her upright. Sarah’s breaths were ragged as she stared straight ahead. Suddenly aware that someone had a tight hold on her arm, Sarah snapped her head sideways and narrowed her eyes at the offending appendage. Realizing Sarah’s demeanor had changed, Luke removed his hands and held them up in surrender. His mouth bobbed in silent protest as Sarah’s green gaze moved up to his face. The look in her eyes was unsettling, then changed again as her features softened. She eyed the scratches down Luke’s jaw and reached forward a shaking hand towards them. Luke drew back slightly, unnerved by the Jekyll and Hyde change.
“Do they hurt?” asked Sarah, tracing her fingertips over the tender skin. Luke was unable to hold back a wince. Luke pressed himself back into the door as far as he could within the restraint of his seat belt.
“Uh... A little... I mean...” Luke found himself lost for words. A coy smile danced on Sarah’s lips as she pressed a finger to his quivering lips to silence him. A burning rushed through his loins. Sarah unclipped her seatbelt and shuffled closer to him. She traced the tip of her tongue seductively over her bottom lip. Luke had nowhere to go and the seatbelt keeping him in his seat was cutting into his skin. Sarah gripped his shirt in her balled fists and pulled herself towards him. Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
“Sarah? Please...” pressed out Luke, his voice cracking with anxiety. Sarah planted her lips hard on his, then released him. She slid back into her seat and fastened her seatbelt. With a trembling hand, Luke used the steering wheel to seat himself comfortably.

St Andrew’s Hospital was quieter than one would expect. Perhaps it was the time of day. The doors to the emergency department slid open, allowing a rectangle of sunlight to glisten against the gray tiled floor. Sarah stepped through the doors first, her booted steps echoing in the unusually quiet waiting room. She walked with an air of command about her. She held her chin parallel to the ground, shoulders tense. Her right hand rested on the hilt of her glock. Sarah stopped and peered around at the waiting room. An older man cradled an injured hand into his chest, blood soaking through the checkered dish cloth that was wrapped tightly around it. A woman bounced her child on her knee. Sarah straightened her mouth into a grim line as her eyes fell upon the reception desk. She started towards the desk, eyes unblinking. Luke paused. The way in which Sarah could change was unnerving, and yet he found it attractive. He watched as her hips swayed with each step. She held an aura of authority. With a gulp, Luke followed her. Sarah tugged her credentials out of her pocket and opened them before the blonde woman seated behind the desk.
“SSA Sarah Carver. This is Special Agent Luke Morrison. We’re from the Brooklyn FBI field office. We understand a man presented here with a GSW to the shoulder. He has dark hair, blue eyes and a scar over his left eye.” The receptionist’s mouth bobbed at the demeanor of the woman before her.
“I’m afraid that’s confidential information. I need to know the reason why you need to know.” Sarah leaned over the desk and narrowed her eyes.
“First of all, miss, I’m an FBI agent and this man is a suspect in a serial homicide case. Secondly, I’m the one that gave him that GSW.” The receptionist gulped in fear. She quickly turned to her computer and typed rapidly on her keyboard, her nails tapping against the keys.
“H-his name is Nigel Carter. He was discharged an hour ago.”
“His address. Now,” growled Sarah.
“556 Rossworth Way, Brooklyn.” Luke mouthed a silent apology at the visibly shaken receptionist as Sarah barged past him and made for the exit. Luke jogged behind her, his curls bouncing against his collar.
“Sarah? Sarah! Wait up!” Sarah whirled around and glared at him. Luke leaned against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. The sun bleached down on the pair as they stood, eyes fixed in a battle of wills. Sarah folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot in annoyance.
“What the fuck was that, Sarah? The poor woman nearly pissed herself!” asked Luke as he pointed angrily at the hospital entrance. Sarah stepped up closer to him.
“We were too fucking late!”
“We got the address! Jesus, Sarah.” Luke rested his left hand on his hip and brushed his hair out of his face. Several faces looked at the bickering pair as they passed. Sarah glared at him again, fury flashing in her eyes.
“Don’t question me again.”
“What? Sarah, there’s ways and means of getting the information that we need, and that wasn’t one of them. You’re just bitter about the fact that he bested the great Sarah Carver.” Instantly, Luke knew he had crossed a line. Sarah crackled with fury as she grabbed his tie and pulled him in close.
“How fucking dare you,” pressed out Sarah, her voice low and dangerous. Luke’s words were lost in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, his collar and tie tightening around his neck. Luke coughed dryly as Sarah released him from her deathly grip.

The car ride to the suspect’s address was stifling and uncomfortable. Neither Sarah nor Luke spoke two words throughout the journey. Luke could sense that Sarah was still simmering under the surface. She was deathly silent. She clutched her firearm in her sweaty palm. Luke spotted an opening behind a red Chevrolet sedan and pulled into it. He barely had the engine turned off before Sarah flung the passenger door open. Luke let out a long, deflated sigh as he closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the headrest of the seat that he occupied.  Sarah already had the trunk of the car open and slid a Kevlar vest over her head. Sarah was a vessel of boiling rage. Her hands trembled with anger as she stretched the hook and loop straps over her shoulders and firmly pressed them down against the vest. She pulled the straps taut around her waist and secured them. The vest felt bone-crushing against her ribs. Luke slowly and cautiously approached, taking care not to startle his already unstable and explosive superior. Sarah had begun unloading and reloading her firearm when Luke strapped on his own Kevlar vest and haphazardly rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbows. Sarah stilled, aware that a shadow was looming over her. Luke fastened the last strap on his vest and pursed his lips as he stared at Sarah. For all Sarah’s rapidly changing mood was somewhat terrifying, Luke found it extremely attractive. He took a moment as he lapped up Sarah’s appearance. The Kevlar pinched her waist in, enhancing the curves of her hips. She had attempted to pull her hair back into a loose ponytail. A few strands of hair fell out of the hair band and over her face. Sarah still looked incredibly gaunt. Luke realized that he would have to force the stubborn woman back to the hospital once the case was solved. Luke withdrew his own firearm from his left hip and clicked off the safety. He raised his eyebrows and swallowed hard.
“You ready?” asked Luke anxiously. Sarah set her jaw and lifted her eyes from her glock up to Luke’s face. Sweat beaded his forehead. The skin surrounding the scratches over his was reddened, eliciting a pit of regret to form in the pits of Sarah’s stomach. Sarah nodded, the loose strands of hair over her face swaying.

Luke was the first to approach the property, defensively keeping Sarah behind him. The area was rough and dilapidated. Luke crept towards the front door. Dark green paint was peeling from rotting wood. The door frame was partially hanging off blackened brick work. Luke took in a deep breath and pressed the palm of his left hand against the door to test it, his gun clasped in his right hand. The door opened under Luke’s touch. He transferred his firearm back to his left hand and used his right to steady his wrist. Sarah was very close. He could feel her hot breath against his back.
“Hello? This is the FBI. We’re coming in,” shouted Luke, his voice echoing throughout the empty hallway. Sarah stepped around him, her own firearm raised in front of her.  She gestured to Luke to take the left side towards the kitchen. Luke nodded in a silent, mutual understanding and disappeared into the darkness. Sarah slowly made her way up the stairs, her green eyes darting in every direction. Her heart pounded a hole in her ribs. Dust fell around her, highlighted by the light filtering through the dirty window at the top of the stairs. Sarah stepped up onto the landing, her back pressed against the peeling wallpaper. She felt her lungs constrict with fear. The dust swirling around her and the musky smell was stifling. Sarah edged along a small landing where there were three doors. She clasped her fingers around the doorknob of the first door. It swung open to an entirely empty room; no bed, no carpets, no furniture. The anxiety crept its way through every fiber of Sarah’s being as she crept towards the second door. As she approached the second door and reached out for the doorknob, a sound pricked at her senses from behind. Her firearm shot up as she peered around. Realizing that she was alone, Sarah turned back to the door. As she reached for it a second time, she felt an arm around her throat and pulled her back towards the third bedroom.