Chapter 36
Jack tried Tina’s phone yet again, but still got no answer. Shit. Something must have happened, because she’d insisted he call her before he did anything with respect to Jessie. Why would she then not answer her phone?
On foot, he followed Jessie to the little Cumberland Farms grocery store several blocks away. She bought a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread, then added a Recharge Gatorade.
She hated Gatorade and she avoided gluten because it affected her mood. Why was she buying things she normally wouldn’t touch? When she got back to the house, she punched in a code and disappeared inside.
Should he knock on the door and confront Jessie face to face?
He tried Tina one more time, and once again got her voicemail. Damn it. He couldn’t just do nothing. Not when Jessie was acting so strange.
Tina thought he could handle himself, and she should know. Screw it. He snagged some paperwork from the rental car’s glove compartment, hoping they would look official enough to help with his ruse.
To add to his act, he knocked on two other doors before he tried the house with the green door.
He explained that he was doing a survey of the neighborhood to gauge the level of support for a new skate park nearby.
Apparently the idea was unpopular—or would have been, if it was real—since everyone shut the door in his face.
Then he came to Jessie’s house. His heart pounded as he waited for someone to answer. When no one did, he walked to the side door and peered in.
Jessie sat at the kitchen table, eating eggs and toast. He knocked on that door. She ignored him.
He clawed his way past some rhododendron shrubs to reach a half-open window. “Hey! Is anyone there? This is an official visit from the neighborhood canvassing board. I see you in there. You have to answer. It’s official.”
Jessie didn’t respond. He went back to the door and, on a whim, turned the handle. Astonishingly, it opened.
He stepped inside, his heart in his mouth. “Hello,” he said.
She turned to look at him, confusion on her face. “Hello?” She frowned, as if she almost recognized him for a second, then it vanished.
“Do you know me?”
She stared at him blankly. “It’s rude to bother people while they’re eating.”
“I don’t want to bother you. I just want to…”
“That’s okay.” She gave him a bright smile and turned back to her toast. “It’s all good.”
What the hell? He stood in the kitchen, at a complete loss. How on earth should he handle this?
He flashed on Mark Peterson, the paranoid schizophrenic with a happy smile on his face. Nothing had reached him until Jack had shown him the photo of his children on the sled.
He pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of the two of them as children. “I’m just wondering, do you know these two kids?”
She didn’t look at the photo. “I’m not supposed to answer questions.”
Someone must have threatened her if she talked. “What happens if you answer a question?”
“Well,” she said earnestly, “it’s more like, choices cause stress, so now I don’t have to make any choices. It’s easier to just not deal with questions. Questions are uncomfortable.”
“I guess that’s true enough.”
“Yeah.” She turned back to her lunch.
“Here’s something that isn’t a question. I’m your brother, Jack.”
“Okay.”
Wow, that didn’t seem to mean anything to her at all. What weird-ass drug had they given her? He didn’t know of any drug that would have this effect on a person. Was this what the Clydes and Seth Baker were smuggling?
He racked his brain for his next move. How long did he have before someone else showed up? How could he convince her to come with him?
“Maybe we can just talk.” He pulled out a chair and sat down.
“About what?”
“About anything you want.”
Nothing seemed to come to her, so he suggested, “We could talk about Sea Smoke Island.”
A strange expression flashed across her face, as if a distant bell had rung somewhere in her foggy brain. “That sounds pretty.”
“It’s very pretty. It’s very inspiring for an artist like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes. I loved the watercolor you left at the house, the one with the kids and the sandcastle. It made me think of summer on Sea Smoke Island when we used to play at the beach. Happy times.”
“I’m happy now.”
“Are you? That’s wonderful.” He decided to try something. “Is it because of some new medication?”
“That’s a question.” But even as she said that, her eyes darted to a shallow plastic bowl on the counter next to the sink. Bingo! He got up for a closer look. It held a pile of square pieces of nearly transparent paper, each imprinted with the letters NL.
“What’s this?” he lifted one of the tabs out of the bowl.
She bolted to her feet. “Leave that alone. Those are my—” She broke off with a gasp as he scooped up all the papers and stuffed them in his pocket. “What are you doing?”
“These are your meds.”
Even though it wasn’t a question, she nodded nervously.
“If you want to keep taking them, you’ll have to come with me. I’m going to my car, it’s just across the street. I’m your brother and I mean you no harm. But I want you to come with me.”
“I…I…” Her head twitched and her eyes blinked. “I shouldn’t leave here.”
“But you like this new medication.”
“Oh yes,” she said with a happy sigh. “It makes me feel so good. If I skip a dose things get very dark and confusing. I don’t like to think about that.”
“Come on, then!” He patted his pocket where the paper tabs were stashed. She fastened her gaze on it and got to her feet. This stuff must be wildly addictive.
He ushered her into his car and buckled her into the back seat. “You can stretch out and take a nap back here if you like.”
“Where are we going?” she asked. “You should give me my meds first. I can’t be late for a dose, and it’s almost time.”
“What happens if you take it late?”
“I told you. Things get confusing and scary.”
He got into the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel so hard it hurt. What would happen to Jessie if he withheld the drug? Would she go through some terrible withdrawal process? Confusing and scary didn’t mean physically harmful, but withdrawal could be a bitch.
He put the car in gear and drove down the street.
After about ten minutes of silent driving, she said, “Jack,” she said urgently. “You have to give me the meds.”
“You called me Jack.” Was the drug starting to wear off? Hope twisted in his heart that it would be as easy as that.
“Of course I did. Jack, give me the meds. Now. Or I’ll…
” She kicked the back of his seat. He kept driving, taking turn after turn, unsure of where to go next.
He needed a safe place, a place where Jessie could get this weird drug out of her system, where he could wrap his arms around her and hold her until she stopped trying to hurt him.
He ruled out the idea of a hospital. Too many questions, and he doubted they knew anything about this drug either. It was too new.
He should take her back to Sea Smoke, he decided. Back to the familiar world of the Sunderland house.
By the time he’d reached the Harbortown docks, she was curled on the back seat in a fetal position, moaning and sobbing about how horrible the world was. How horrible he was.
He called the water taxi service and asked for Captain Sparrow. He couldn’t risk a stranger picking them up with Jessie in this condition.
“This is a crisis situation,” he told Sparrow. “I have someone with me who’s going through withdrawal. I need to be as private as possible. Can you make that happen? For a fee, of course?” he added, before Captain Sparrow could make the demand himself.
“It’s always something with you two. Meet me at the public landing in ten.”
Sparrow helped him bundle Jessie onboard the Salty Gal. She fought them only feebly, darting her hands in the direction of Jack’s pockets. She’d reached a stage beyond words and beyond understanding anything he said to her.
“What the heck is she on?” mumbled the captain as he eased the boat away from the dock. Jessie curled up on the cabin floor and rocked back and forth.
“The hell if I know. I’d take her to the hospital but I don’t think they’d know either.”
“I think she’s hallucinating. Do you see her eyes?”
Her pupils were so dilated that her eyes were nearly black as opposed to their usual deep green, and her eyes were darting back and forth.
“You might be right. I just want to get her somewhere safe until it wears off. I’m hoping if she’s somewhere familiar the come-down process will be easier for her.”
“Gotcha.”
The bow of the water taxi carved through a wave, sending spray curling into the air.
His stomach dropped. Was he making a huge mistake here?
Should he go straight to the hospital? Or should he have stayed with Jessie in that house until the people who had given her this crap returned?
They probably knew how best to come off it.
Which was another reason to get back to Sea Smoke Island, he told himself grimly. This strange drug had to be what the Clydes were smuggling. They must know what it was. As soon as he could, he’d hunt down a Clyde—Brendan, Petey, Clyde himself, whoever—and demand some answers.
In the meantime, he’d make sure Jessie was safe and far out of reach of whoever had done this to her.