My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 36

36

MARTHA AIMLESSLY SURFED the TV channels while waiting to hear from Richard. When the phone rang, she snapped it up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Martha, this is Sydney Deagan."

"Hey! Richard told me he'd seen you. How've you been?"

"I just called his cell phone and someone else answered."

Martha pushed up in the bed. "Are you sure you called the right number? "

"Yes!"

"He went to Wrightsville beach to do something for me."

"I know, but something must have gone wrong."

The TV station broke into their regular programming with a special report. "Hold on a second," Martha said. "There's something's happening on TV." Martha raised the volume.

"...body of a young female was discovered just minutes ago behind a restaurant in Wrightsville Beach. Police at this time have not identified the girl and are giving no other details. We have a team headed there now and we'll bring you more information as we get it."

Martha flung the covers aside ignoring the pain shooting into one ankle. "They found another girl's body. This one down at the beach. I have to go down there. Can you come and get me? I'm at mom's."

"Yes. Be there in fifteen minutes."

Martha ended the call and tried Richard's number. When she got no answer, she hung up the phone, reached for her wheelchair, and snuggled it tightly against the side of her bed. Shifting her legs as far left as she could, she lowered the bed and used her hands to "walk" backward onto the chair dragging her legs with her. Then, seized by a hot burning sensation in her right ankle, she squeezed her fingers deep into the flesh trying to work the pain out, but soon had to abandon it, pulling on her shoes and jacket, rolling out the front door just as Sydney's van arrived.

PARKING NEXT TO THE CORVETTE, Greg went directly to Mr. Bonner's office where he found him loading stacks of file folders into cardboard boxes.

"You get that license plate changed back?" Bonner asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Bonner pulled an envelope from his pocket. "Here's two thousand dollars cash, a map to a place aye have in Boone, and key to the house." He lifted an old leather satchel and handed it to Greg. A small lock fastened the zipper closed. "Aye want you to take this bag and the Corvette and wait there until you hear from me."

Greg closed his fingers on the envelope. "Tonight?"

"Don't even bother to pack. Things are happening fast. Use the money to buy some new clothes and whatever food you'll need. Aye'll be there in a couple of days. And don't let this bag out of your sight until you get there." He put his arm on Greg's shoulder. "Aye'm counting on you, Greg."

"Yes, sir. No problem." Greg took the bag, stuffed the envelope into a back pocket, and walked out shifting the bag to his other hand.

Bonner paused briefly to gaze at the ocean. This had been his favorite place, but if Richard Baimbridge had been there, then the police could not be far behind. He climbed the stairs to the third floor and unlocked a panel in the production studio. Noting the time was 11:34 p.m., he set the timer in the panel to one hour and fifty-six minutes, yanked a red lever one turn counter-clockwise, and withdrew a black leather bag.

Back in his office, he locked the door, closed the curtains, and laid the contents of the black bag in front of him. A respirator mask, goggles, thick rubber gloves, and a bottle of potassium cyanide.

He opened a box of sleeping capsules, dumped half of each capsule's contents into the trash, and—with the respirator, gloves, and goggles on—refilled them with the deadly white powder. Forcing the capsules back together, he wiped them clean and dropped them into an empty medicine bottle.

Tossing the gloves, goggles, and respirator into the trash, he unlocked the door and located Albert on the second floor.

"Find César and send him to my office."

"Yes sir."

"And give each of the girls one of these." He handed Albert the bottle of capsules. "Make sure they take it. Aye want them to get a good night's sleep and be ready to start early in the morning."