Tailspin(124)

“Sit down. Please.”

She sat.

Timmy took up a slouched position against the opposite wall. He produced a knife from wherever it had been secreted, exposed the blade, and began nonchalantly flipping it into the air, letting it turn end on end several times before catching it by the hilt.

Brynn tried to ignore him, but his pastime was unnerving.

Goliad must’ve thought so, too. He said, “Cut it out.”

Timmy stopped and pushed away from the wall. “I’m hungry. Is that old lady who works in the kitchen still here?”

“She was given the rest of the day off.”

Timmy made a face. “Well, I’m gonna scrounge.”

“Not now. They may need us.”

“I’m hungry, man. I’ve been to Tennessee and back.”

Goliad considered it, then said, “Don’t be long.”

Timmy ambled off in the direction of the kitchen.

Through the wall behind her, Brynn could hear muffled conversation in the sitting room but couldn’t understand what was being said.

“Is that drug going to cure him?”

Goliad’s question surprised her. Up till now, he hadn’t expressed any interest in the outcome of all this.

“The prospect is very good,” she replied. “No one will know for certain how effective it is until it’s tried.”

Goliad nodded thoughtfully. “The little girl, is she going to suffer? At the end, I mean.”

“Not if I can help it. But there’s nothing I can do about her family’s suffering.”

He stared at Brynn, then glanced toward the kitchen. “I’m going to check on him. Don’t go anywhere. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

He left. Brynn checked the time. Only a few minutes had elapsed since she’d been banished from the sitting room, but it seemed much longer than the hands on her watch indicated. She wondered how far along Nate was in the process.

Had the syringe of GX-42 already been injected into the IV solution?

5:34 p.m.



When Goliad entered the commercial-size kitchen, Timmy was sitting on the countertop, bumping his heels against the cabinet door below, eating a banana. Goliad motioned him down. “Back to work.”

Timmy hopped off the counter and did a hook shot with the banana peel into the sink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You hang around ’cause you want to fuck her, don’t you?”

Goliad, who had already turned away, came back around. “What?”

“The boss lady.” Timmy made an obscene gesture with his tongue.

Goliad’s swollen face turned dark with anger.

Timmy chuckled and tapped the corner of his eye. “I see these things. I know.”

“You don’t know anything.” Goliad turned again to leave.

“There you’re wrong. I know you’re never going to get in Delores’s panties. And I also know where a kidney is. Right about here.”

He jabbed a stiletto into the right side of Goliad’s back all the way to the hilt. Goliad arched up and back. He staggered as he turned to face Timmy, who bugged out his eyes and whispered, “Boo!”

Goliad dropped to his knees in front of him, then fell facedown onto the polished tile floor. Timmy said, “Adios, amigo.”

Bending over Goliad, Timmy placed a hand in each of his armpits and dragged him across the floor, grunting. “Like a sack of cement.”

The walk-in pantry was enormous by most standards, but it barely accommodated Goliad’s large form. In order to get out after pulling Goliad in, Timmy had to carefully step around him.

He left his knife sticking up out of Goliad’s back. It was acting as a plug. He didn’t want to have to mop up a gulf of blood when he came back later to dispose of the body.

5:35 p.m.



Nate gaped at Delores. “What do you mean, you want to do it?”

“Exactly what I said. I want to inject the drug into the IV bag.”

Richard said. “Brilliant, darling. I love that idea.”

She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. “We’ve come all this way together. I want to take an active part.”

“As you should. Nate?”

“I don’t think it’s a brilliant idea at all.”

“What matters is that Richard and I do.” Not even deigning to look at Nate, she stroked her husband’s cheek.

Nate sputtered, “But you’re not medically qualified.”

“It’s not brain surgery. How hard can it be?”

“It’s not hard, but you don’t know how.”

Delores turned to him. “Do you?” she challenged. “Don’t you have nurses to take care of the menial tasks while you’re busy being stupendous you?”

“I—”

“Have you ever, over the course of your career, done this before, Nate?”

He wet his lips. “Not since I was an intern.” He glanced nervously toward the camera.

“Don’t worry about how this is going to look in your silly video,” Delores said. “We got what we needed from you, didn’t we, Richard?”

“Needed from me?” Nate asked, his voice going thin.

Richard said, “I think Delores is referring to your florid admission of breaching professional ethics.”