Fugitive Spy. Jordyn Redwood

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       THREE

      Perhaps twenty minutes after Ashley had left him, she was back pushing a wheelchair, whisking the curtain closed over his glass doors so that he was shielded from peering eyes in the hall.

      “Lance, would you mind leaving us? There’s a private matter I need to discuss with our patient.”

      “CT just called for him,” Lance said.

      “Yes, exactly. You know, I’m getting off work anyway. I’ll clear this matter up and then I’ll take him to CT myself.”

      Lance looked at her blankly. “Are you...sure?”

      “Absolutely.” Ashley motioned her hand in front of her to try to erase his doubts. It was a rare event for a doctor to personally escort a patient to Radiology. “It’s the end of your shift, too. I know you’re anxious to get home to your new baby girl.”

      Lance’s smile lit his face up. “You’re right. Thanks, Ashley. It’s going to take me a while to get things wrapped up and give my report. You doing this really helps.”

      “Have a great night,” she said as he exited the room.

      The interchange confused Casper. Ashley looked disheveled, out of sorts. There was a slight sheen to her forehead. A mild tremble in her shoulders. She pushed the wheelchair next to his bed, parked it and then lowered the side rails.

      “We’re leaving.” She rounded to his left side and turned off his monitor, then began disconnecting the monitoring cables from his body.

      Her words had an edge to them—her face creased with worry. The actions she took coupled with her clipped words seemed to suggest something other than a simple trip to Radiology.

      “This is going to hurt,” she said, taking firm fingers and ripping the defibrillation pads off his chest.

      Casper gritted his teeth and suppressed a yell. Unable to keep his eyes from watering, he rubbed at the raw, burning skin.

      “Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound nearly as penitent as he wanted her to be. Next, she removed the layers of clear tape that held his IV in place.

      He clasped his hand over hers. “Wait, aren’t they going to need this for the scan?”

      She blinked at him. If he had to guess, she pondered why he would even think to ask such a question. “No, we’re leaving the hospital.” With a quick motion, she pulled the catheter from his arm, put a cotton ball over the site and then wrapped a piece of self-adhering dressing around his hand.

      “Dr. Drager, please, what is going on?”

      “Ashley... You might as well call me by my first name. I’m essentially kidnapping you.”

      Not that he minded, but for what reason? What had her so unnerved?

      “Why are we leaving?”

      She yanked one of the blankets from his chest, settled it in the wheelchair and then eased his legs so his feet were resting against the floor. The room spun.

      “Sit here for a minute. You’re probably dizzy from laying down for so long. If you fall I won’t be able to pick you up by myself and I can’t call for help.”

      Casper pressed two fingers into his temple until the sensation passed. “If I’m going to allow myself to be kidnapped then I need to know why.”

      “Does the name Jared Fleming mean anything to you?”

      Nothing registered. He shook his head.

      “Something very weird is going on here. You show up, amnestic—almost beaten to death. Your tattoo is the same exact one my father, who’s been missing, has. You arrive with a photo of me in your pocket. And just as I was trying to insanely, and with a lot of denial I might add, talk myself out of thinking that you having a connection to me and my father was utter lunacy, my father’s arch nemesis shows up asking me to relinquish you into his custody without any legal documentation supporting such an action.”

      Every last ounce of strength that Casper possessed, which was precious little at this point in time, melted away like the snow under a newly bright Colorado sun. Trouble was, he wanted to assist her, but doubted he could lift a finger to even help himself. Ashley had every right to make such assumptions and clearly she was operating for his benefit, albeit through selfish needs of her own.

      Can I blame her? I’d do exactly the same thing under these circumstances. Sticking with her might provide the answers that I need. Maybe she’s the key to getting my memory back.

      Casper inhaled sharply and gathered up the last vestiges of his energy. He eased himself up and pivoted into the wheelchair. Now all he wanted to do was go to bed and sleep the rest of this day away. She tucked the blanket around his torso.

      “If we get out of here, what exactly is your plan?” Casper asked.

      Ashley bent over and unlocked his wheelchair, her exhalation whispering past his ear. A hint of citrusy body spray lingered in her wake.

      “I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ll probably take you to my mother’s house. If you knew my father maybe she knows you and can help me figure out if I should be worried about Jared coming for you or not.”

      “So you don’t necessarily believe your father? That this man is his enemy?”

      “It’s hard to put faith and trust in a man who deserted his family. My father said a lot of crazy things. Did a lot of scary stuff, but the one thing he was always consistent about for several years before he disappeared was his hatred of the man who just came looking for you.”

      Ashley wheeled him to the door and peeked around the curtain. Seemingly satisfied, she yanked the curtain aside and pushed him through the sliding glass door. Making two quick turns, they СКАЧАТЬ