Blind Faith - Sharon Sala Page 0,49
my kitchen for more than two hours, during which time she has consumed a cup of coffee, one Pepsi and two candy bars.”
Wyrick laughed, and Tillman heard her. It was a nice laugh.
“Okay, Miss Wyrick. The recent incident between you and Boyington was why I called, and if I have further questions, we’ll be in touch.”
Jade picked up her phone, ended the call and dropped it back in her pocket.
“Now, where were we?”
Merlin wiggled a finger at her. “What was the recent incident between you and this dead man that I don’t know about?”
“Charlie caught him planting GPS trackers on my car. It was the third time he had shown up at my place of work to harass me, and I filed stalking charges against him.”
“Good Lord. Did you know him?” Rodney asked.
“Not until he walked into Charlie’s office, demanding to see him, which all turned out to be a ruse to get to me. He is...was...a hit man.”
Merlin’s expression shifted to one of concern.
“UT?” he asked.
Wyrick sighed. “I don’t know why I am surprised you know that much.”
He grinned and winked. “I know stuff, too.”
Rodney threw up his hands. “Okay, obviously this is a need-to-know basis, and I don’t need to know. And considering my workload, that’s fine, too. Now, we have one more set of papers to go over, but we won’t need you. I think this will be the last of it, until—”
“Until I’m gone,” Merlin said, and grinned at the lawyer. “She’s gonna take care of my tomatoes, and scatter my ashes in Galveston Bay. Whatever else she does afterward, she does with my blessing.”
The thought of Annie and Merlin both living their last days made her sad, and Wyrick, being Wyrick, hid her emotions behind sarcasm.
“Thank God I don’t have to go pick out a headstone, then come up with something smart and wise to put on it.”
They both burst into laughter.
“I’m going back to the dungeon, Master. Ring if you need me,” she said, and left through the kitchen stairwell.
Merlin sighed. “She is a broken child with the heart and stamina of a warrior, and most likely the most brilliant mind on the face of the earth. Treat her well when I am gone.”
“Consider it done,” Rodney said.
* * *
Sometime around midmorning on the fifth day of Charlie’s vigil, Annie’s breathing became markedly worse. Doris had been watching her carefully for a couple of hours, noting the change, but it was just now becoming evident to Charlie.
“What’s happening?” Charlie asked, as Doris placed her stethoscope on Annie’s chest.
“It’s sounding like she’s developed pneumonia. I want Dr. Dunleavy to look at her,” Doris said. “I think he’s still on-site.”
Charlie stood helplessly by as Doris made the call, listening to her side of the conversation, while watching Annie struggling for every breath. She was already on oxygen, but it was no longer working as it had.
He shoved a hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck. He was so tired he was numb. Over the past few days he’d helped bath her, and when he was at his wit’s end watching her struggle to breathe, he’d rub her hands and feet with lotion because he couldn’t breathe for her, and he needed to do something.
A few minutes later, Dr. Dunleavy walked into Annie’s room. He gave Charlie a quick pat on the shoulder and then moved toward his patient.
His examination was cursory. Annie’s instructions were clear. No medicines to prolong her life. No CPR should her heart stop, and so it went. Charlie’s wishes would hold no weight here, and the longer he watched her struggle, the less likely he would have been to wish her back. Watching someone die was hard. Watching someone you love dying was hell on earth.
Finally, Dunleavy stepped back and then approached Charlie.
“She has pneumonia. Her lungs are filling with fluid.”
“Jesus,” Charlie whispered. “She is going to drown, isn’t she?”
“I’m sorry, Charlie. So sorry, but her wishes are clear. No extraordinary measures of resuscitation.”
Speech was impossible, and so was this, and yet Charlie couldn’t leave her. Seeing her out was the last thing he would do with her.
“So what do we do?” Charlie asked.
“Honor her last wishes,” Dunleavy said, and walked out.
“I’m going to give you a little time with Annie,” Doris said. “I’ll be in the hall if you need me.”
Charlie sat back down beside Annie and reached for her hand. His voice was shaking, and he was swallowing past tears.
“Dammit, Annie, you never did want