Shaking Off the Dust Read online

Page 15


  I was so relieved I started crying.

  Takeshi started tapping on my wrist.

  “You are always trying to get me in bed. Why put me to sleep?”

  “You body is fragile, it has to work hard to keep up with your will. We both need to rest now. I won’t unless I know you are sleeping next to me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I woke up to the doctor standing over me.

  Takeshi was dressed and sat at the table, drinking from a bottle of water. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Twelve hours,” the doctor answered. “I hope that Dr. Shimodo would be kind enough to show me his pressure-point technique. Every time you started to wake, he put you right back to sleep.”

  I glared at Takeshi.

  “You needed the rest. Your body has been punished a lot the last week. I informed the director you may travel tomorrow.” The doctor ignored my irritated expression.

  “Will she be allowed to take her own medications?” Takeshi asked.

  “I will write an order to continue her home medications. I believe this last episode was a direct result of the stressors placed on her since entering our…care, not a result of the meds not being appropriate to keep her heart rate controlled. That has been addressed in detail with those agents whose care you will remain under. I understand that you also discussed this with them, Dr. Shimodo.” There was laughter in his eyes.

  Takeshi nodded, but his face showed he was still angry over what had occurred.

  “It is remarkable, Miss Campbell, that you are ready to rush off on this excursion. Don’t push too hard, your body hasn’t had time to recover. The burn on your hand is healing well. I recommend lots of rest, fluids and de-stressing behaviors.”

  I gave him a baleful stare. “You don’t believe for a moment it will not be stressful. None of this is my dream vacation.”

  The doctor shrugged. “I want you rechecked in four days, wherever you are.”

  “Four days? Aren’t we going to Madrid?”

  “I will contact an American physician who is often used by the embassy. Keep in mind that we didn’t feed you properly and mistakenly gave you coffee. That will not happen again. We all need you healthy. I like to be thorough.” He left the room and the nurse set about taking out my IV. While she did that, I noticed our luggage.

  I went to my suitcase, wondering when it had arrived, and prayed they’d remembered to put my toothbrush into it. I started to pick it up, but Takeshi took it from me and set it on top of the bed. I used my mean stare on him.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, Shimodo, putting me to sleep whenever it suits you. You are on my shitlist. Maybe you should shower first so I don’t have to see you for a while.”

  I got distracted by the contents of my suitcase. Most of it was my stuff, but a bag of travel-sized cosmetic items was included with several toothbrushes, shampoos and deodorant. “Hey, did they put this in your bag too?” It was hard to remember I was mad at him.

  “I already showered, and, yes, my suitcase also contains toiletries.”

  He started to walk towards me, but I threw up my hands. “No, I’m still mad at you and entirely too gross right now, all scummy and sticky. I need a shower and I don’t want any more delays.” I scooted past him and into the bathroom.

  An inordinate amount of my time was spent getting the goo from the EKG patches off my chest. There were round indentations where they had been. I scrubbed twice and shampooed several extra times, trying to get off the layer of scum that seemed to have formed. The towel barely reached around me. The bathroom was small and filled with steam when I finished.

  I poked my head out the door. “Did you cover the camera?”

  Takeshi came to the door. “Yes.” He wrapped himself around me and his sweater rubbed against my bare skin, making me squirm. The kiss he pressed on my lips demanded my complete surrender. The towel fell as he checked me over with warm eyes, touching the red spots where the patches had left their marks. He kissed each one, then gathered me in a nearly smothering embrace. After a very long time, his arms loosened and he peered into my face. I don’t know what he found there, but I saw a wild fear in him and knew it was because of me.

  I’d set out the clothes I was going to wear—jeans, a long tee shirt and a zip-up sweatshirt over that. I made haste to get dressed as quick as I could. There was a knock on the door. With no preamble, it opened. Did the FBI ever wait for a reply before barging in?

  “Look, the three musketeers,” I whispered, as our contingent of agents came inside.

  “The doctor said tomorrow. Why do we need to go right away?” Takeshi asked.

  “We’d like to spend awhile in the evidence room. There won’t be time in the morning before we leave,” Rachel said.

  * * *

  Rachel clipped a small plastic-looking tack onto my sweatshirt. “It’s a microphone. Repeat anything Tom tells you and it’ll record it. Names and detailed info on the cases would be appreciated.”

  She put a similar one on Takeshi’s sweater. I watched her touch him and chided myself on being so insecure. I didn’t want to be jealous.

  The armed man behind the glass wall allowed us to enter, giving Rachel a box that was marked with a case number.

  “Tom,” I whispered.

  He appeared, taking in his surroundings. “So we’re doing the walking tour of the evidence room.”

  Rachel came forward and opened the box, handing me a comb. “Sharon’s missing.”

  I wasn’t paying attention, because Tom was trying to touch my other hand. So when the young girl of about eight appeared in front to me, I was surprised. She seemed frightened.

  “Hannah,” Tom yelled. “I know you can see her. Don’t let them know that. Tell them I told you she’s here. Ask her questions through me. Give that comb back to them.”

  My eyes had shown some of my surprise, but I reverted back to the emergency-department glaze. “Tom says there’s a young girl about eight or nine standing near us now. He’s going to ask her name.”

  Tom leaned into the girl, but she moved away from him, clinging to my leg. I shivered at the sudden coldness on my side and leg.

  “She’s not talking. He’s frightened her.” She tried to grip tighter to me, but went deeper into my body. I chattered with the cold.

  Takeshi came to me. “What’s going on?”

  “I think she’s trying to hold on to me. I’m freezing.”

  She backed away when Takeshi stepped next to me. She was afraid of men, that was obvious.

  “So you can’t see her?” Rachel asked.

  “No, I’m sorry. Who is she?”

  “Sharon Dickerson. One of about eight children who have disappeared in the Texas, Arkansas, Oklahoma and New Mexico. Most of their parents are junkies or drug addicts. We think there may be a lot more missing children than reported. We hoped they were alive. Another child was reported gone two days ago. This is the first confirmation that any of them are dead.”

  I gave the comb back to Rachel, but I made sure I held on to some of the hairs. Takeshi noticed and moved me partially behind him. What was I doing, tying myself to another ghost? But my heart couldn’t take seeing that child alone. How I would help her was for me to learn later. For now I had to hide the fact that I could see her solemn face. I screamed in my head.

  Rachel put the comb into the evidence box and returned it to the man at the desk. We spent the next hour walking the evidence room. Tom had already talked to most of the ghosts, and there were well over twenty. Takeshi would read off the case number, then I’d repeat everything Tom told me. All of them had something they wished relayed to their families. Two men were murderers. Tom described one as dressing like his accountant. The man gleefully explained how he killed his wife. I spewed second-hand information about a lot of people. Sharon stayed at my side like a puppy dog. I would have put my hands over her ears if I could have. I caught her eye a couple of times and she was delighted that I could see her, but I never spoke to her
. I winked and she almost smiled. I’d done it when my back had been to the three FBI people. I prayed I could keep this a secret.

  Takeshi made a point of putting himself between the three and me. I knew Tom and he used Morse code, but I hadn’t thought Tom had left my sight or stopped talking long enough to pass him any information. Takeshi must have guessed that I could see Sharon when I’d taken those hairs.

  We reached the end of the evidence room, and Tom shrugged. That was all we were going to get. Now that they knew they existed, the FBI could further interrogate the ghosts. These were supposed to be smart people and I thought they’d figure that out sometime soon.

  We left the evidence room and I stopped at a water fountain. When I leaned over, the microphone clanged against it. I unclipped it and handed it back to Rachel. I walked over to Takeshi and took his off.

  He stared down into my face and touched my cheek. “You still look tired. You’ve lost weight in the last three days.”

  I had to grin about that. But he frowned at me, worried. I stepped back from him and marched up to Rachel.

  “I’d prefer not to have every burp recorded. I think you may want to use these again sometime and my urge is to flush them down a toilet, or stomp very hard on them.”

  She took them from me, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. As we headed out of the building, I asked to stop in a bathroom. It was a single, so I was allowed to be by myself. I sat on the toilet, because I really did have to go, but I reached out and touched Sharon, who had turned her back to me when I’d sat down.

  Quietly, I began, “Hello, Sharon, my name is Hannah. I’m very pleased to meet you. We only have a minute, so listen. Except for me and my friend Takeshi and the other ghost Tom, these other people can’t know I can see you. When we are alone or with just those other two, who are my friends, we can talk. Until then you must stay with Tom. He’s a doctor and he’s a nice man who would never ever hurt you.” I flushed the toilet and zipped my pants and she turned around.

  “Doctors hurt people. They pinch and give shots,” she whispered.

  “Tom doesn’t. He will never hurt you. I promise. You can stay with me, but no talking, okay? Now come give a hug before we leave.” I reached out my arms and she came towards me. I leaned enough to buzz her front. I knew she’d feel warmth and I thought it might be comforting. Too late did I realize she might consider it an invitation to stay anchored on me whenever I stood still.

  That night we stayed at a hotel. Rachel and I shared a room and the boys managed to work out a sleeping situation. I couldn’t get Sharon off me for more that a few minutes at a time.

  By the time we reached the airport, I was freezing. If I stood still even a minute she was on me, clutching my leg. I took a Valium and shivered.

  We’d been in FBI custody for almost five days by the time we headed from Washington in the luxury of a private plane. It was one of those planes you imagine is used by movie stars. Big chairs, foldout couches, a full bar and lots of room.

  Takeshi and I headed straight to the couch and belted in for take off. Tom jumped from seat to seat and whistled at the extravagance. He winked at Sharon and patted an empty lounger for her to sit in, but she went straight to me and tried to get as close as possible without touching Takeshi.

  The three, as I now liked to refer to them, found seats, giving us some privacy. I waited patiently for the plane to take off, so I could huddle myself into Takeshi and try to get warm again. There were goose bumps on my arms that had reached to my fingertips. Takeshi took my hand and put his arms around me, drawing me into his chest as far as the seat belt would let him. Once airborne, he pulled out the couch until it made into a bed and we lay down. He covered my body and I felt warmer.

  Tom came to stand above Sharon, who crouched at my feet. “Sharon, you must let go of Hannah. When you touch her it feels nice and warm and alive to you. But for her, it is cold. She’s been sick, so the cold is not good for her. She has goose bumps. You’ll make her sick again if you don’t let her go. Won’t you come sit with me?”

  “Is it true, Miss Hannah? Am I making you too cold?”

  I leaned into Takeshi and whispered, “Yes.”

  He spoke as if I’d answered a question. “Wonderful, Hannah. We can set a date?”

  I bit him on the ear lobe.

  “My Hannah so excited at the thought of our marriage. I like that. Do it again.”

  I started to argue, but he wouldn’t let me. “Hush, Hannah. You can’t save everyone and I won’t let you jeopardize your health. Did you get any sleep last night? If she touches you again, I will be very angry.”

  “Tom talked to her. I think she understands now.” In a louder voice I said, “Move over. My feet are still cold.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “You two realize you’ve got an audience, right?” Jack announced in an amused voice.

  “Not if the audience is very quiet,” I mumbled.

  Takeshi’s body rumbled against me as he laughed.

  I smirked, then frowned as Takeshi began tapping on my wrist.

  I woke up to the couch moving. It took a few seconds for me to remember we were on a plane.

  “It’s turbulence. We should sit up so you can put on your seat belt,” Takeshi said. “Have you warmed up?” He placed the couch into a normal sitting position.

  Bill appeared for all intents and purposes asleep, but I wasn’t sure how he managed. The turbulence caused the plane to dip and rock. Rachel was curled in her chair. She checked her watch, then put on her seat belt. “We should be arriving in about an hour. The pilot warned us there might be some rough weather as we got closer.”

  “You should have warned us,” Takeshi said frowning. “Hannah, take another Valium.”

  I got up while the plane was relatively steady and searched for my purse to find my pill bottle. Takeshi frowned until I was seated again.

  Tom sat in an empty chair and leaned forward. “You should know there’s another ghost here with us. It’s Bill’s wife, Bethann. Apparently he always brings something of hers when he travels. I’ve been talking to her while you were sleeping.”

  I nodded my head for him to continue.

  “Tom talking to you?” Bill inquired.

  It startled me, because I hadn’t realized he had woken up. “Yes.”

  “Anything you want to share?”

  “Not so far.”

  He nodded his head and looked at Takeshi, to see if he minded. He wore his bland face, so I assumed he didn’t.

  “Bethann died a couple of years ago. She was five months pregnant and fell down some stairs, hitting her head. Bill found her when he got home late from work. He blames himself, because she was wearing a watch that broke when she fell and it was the time he was usually home. He thinks if he’d been there it wouldn’t have happened or he could have prevented her falling.” Tom glanced over at Bill. “She said he was an analyst then, on a desk. He requested field duty right after and has been running away from his pain ever since. She wants to tell him she’s all right and it’s not his fault.”

  I leaned back thinking this new wrinkle was unexpected. Bill had secrets, but I’d thought in terms of danger and intrigue, not guilt and loss. Now I wondered what we’d discover about Jack and Rachel.

  We needed privacy so I could sort through this with Tom and Takeshi. We needed to take Bill aside and let him hear his wife’s last words. Maybe Sharon could go with Bethann when she walked into the light. Some people collect teddy bears. I was collecting ghosts. I wondered where Sharon had gotten to.

  The plane dipped plummeting straight down. I grabbed the airsick bag as the dizziness came in waves, until I felt like I was being pushed down.

  Takeshi caught me as I began to slide from my unbuckled seat and pulled me into his chair. I leaned against him because I couldn’t balance myself to do anything else. The room spun and I started throwing up. I don’t know how many times, but I set some kind of record.

  Jack braved the turbulence and br
ought over a couple of cool, wet paper towels and they were over my forehead and eyes. I was hoping to be unconscious, but I didn’t get what I wanted.

  “Damn, Hannah, you’re as green as I’ve ever seen anyone.” Tom came up close to my face.

  “Go away, Tom. That’s not helping,” I whispered as the world behind my eyes spun in circles.

  Everyone passed airsick bags to Takeshi as he held onto me. As soon as I thought it was better, another wave of nausea would come over me. By the time we landed, I was sure Takeshi had the strongest stomach of anyone I’d met. I was voting him in as the most patient human being God had ever created. I clutched Takeshi as he carried me off the plane. Someone handed him another cold cloth and he exchanged it for the warm one over my eyes. My stomach settled down. My head would spin if I turned it, so I put my head against his chest. A car was waiting for us. I wanted to go home and wail about the injustices of my life.

  A tall man with a medical bag joined us as we got in the elevator. I was afraid to lift my head, so I didn’t see his face. He introduced himself to Bill and Takeshi and stated he’d gotten there as soon as possible. Takeshi gave a brief description of the last hour of my woes and voiced his concern at my discomfort. We made it to the room in record time.

  I lay on the bed, my head elevated, with a washcloth over my eyes. The conversation was muted as they whispered to each other. A stethoscope was placed on my chest and silence ensued for a brief exam. The doctor finally spoke. “Yes, yes. Her heart rate is a little high.” He took my blood pressure and temperature. The man made a phone call in Spanish, then gave me a shot, saying, “Something to settle your stomach.”

  Chapter Twelve

  My mouth was dry and tasted nasty. I peered around the dim room and saw Jack sitting in a big chair facing the bed. “I have to use the bathroom.”

  “I’ll get Shimodo.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Just stand nearby in case I get dizzy. I can do this all by myself. I potty-trained at two.” I started to get up. “Wait, I need my toothbrush and paste, it’s in my suitcase. Could you please get it?”