When I heard the doctor's voice, I froze with the hose in my hand, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.
"I know who you are," he said. "And it's okay. I assure you, I'm on your side. I'm not going to turn you in—not even if you decide not to come inside."
I wasn't sure if he was joking or not, or whether I should run. Then I thought, if I took a chance and he tried to trap me so he could turn me in, maybe I could overpower him and get away. That is, as long as he didn't shoot me or have an army of people with him inside the house. It seemed to take forever to decide whether to leave or take a chance.
Desperate, I chose the latter.
"Are you sure you're not going to kill me or something?" I asked hesitantly.
The doctor—tall, handsome, and dark by most people's standards, and perhaps in his late 40s—laughed and gave me a reassuring smile.
"I'm a doctor. I save lives. I don't take them."
My first thought was, Why the hell would a doctor want to help me? If anyone wanted to help, I would think it would be someone who's had issues with the law before or someone who wasn’t in their right mind. But then, what did I really know about this guy? All I knew was that I was definitely hungry, thirsty, and in desperate need of a good pee and a shower.
"You may come in, get food and drink, and whatever else you need. But there will be some conditions if you choose to stay. If you decide not to, I'll give you some things to help you make it out there for a while, until you end up wherever you're going to end up."
I slowly inched closer to him and held out my medicine bag.
"I need regular medication. This isn’t going to last more than a month or so. I know that."
"I also own a pharmaceutical company. I can take care of your needs. Let’s go inside before anyone sees or overhears us. We’ll continue talking in there."
It was now or never. I had to make up my mind—leave or take a chance. Something about his demeanor, completely opposite of the police and many others I’d dealt with throughout my life, told me I could trust him.
So, I stepped into his spacious but old home, and he quickly poured me a glass of water from the refrigerator.
"Ice?"
"Excuse me?"
"Would you like ice in this?"
"No, thank you."
"And your name is?"
"You can call me Luke."
"Luke, do you live here by yourself?"
"Yes, I do."
He handed me the glass of water, and I gulped it down, thirsty.
"When was the last time you took your meds?"
"I'm caught up on everything for a few hours."
"What would you like to eat?"
"Anything. But first, can I please use your bathroom?"
"Absolutely. Follow me."
I followed him through what must have been the biggest living room I’d ever seen and down a short hallway to the bathroom. Never before had it felt so wonderful to relieve my bladder!
When I opened the door and stepped out, he wasn’t in sight. I retraced my steps through the living room and back into the kitchen.
"Have a seat, madam," he said, gesturing toward one of the four chairs at his dark wooden kitchen table.
I took a seat—another thing that felt wonderful. Anything I’d sat on in the last day or two had been rock-hard.
"So, you know my story?"
"That I do."
"Have you been following the news?"
"I have."
"So, can you confirm my suspicions as to whether or not there was ever a deal? They told me they’d give me immunity for my testimony against those who held me hostage and killed my friend."
"They always say one’s gut instinct should be trusted. So, they were playing me, and I was in custody all along, weren’t I?"
"Yes, you were. Typically, those convicted of crimes aren’t allowed to testify anyway because they’re not considered credible witnesses."
I snorted with disgust but wasn’t surprised. It explained why they never let me read a newspaper or have a TV.
"Sometimes, the police can be as cruel and compassionless as they can be helpful and life-saving," Luke said.
"Tell me about it," I replied.
Then he placed a tuna sandwich and an apple in front of me.
"Thank you so much," I said, eating hungrily as he tidied up and wiped down the kitchen counters.
"This is delicious."
"I’m sure anything beats jail food—or even hospital food."
"You got that right."
I filled him in on how I escaped.
"Yeah, they had dogs out looking for you in no time, but the trail ended at the freeway. What you just told me explains why."
I told him about falling asleep on the train.
"So, where am I anyway?"
"You’re in central Colorado."
I was shocked. "Oh my God—Colorado?"
"Yes. You weren’t heading from Amarillo to central Texas. You were heading in the opposite direction and were between Amarillo and Albuquerque when you escaped. The train you hopped on came straight up here."
"Seems like a nice neighborhood. Not too congested."
"That’s why I like it here," Luke said. "It’s nice and quiet."
"So, what conditions do you have for me to stay in this lovely home? It certainly can’t be anything physical, given the state of my appearance."
Luke smiled as if that were a funny joke.
"All you have to do is keep hidden so you don’t get caught and don’t bring me down with you. Oh, and let me experiment on you."
My pulse quickened.
"Experiment? What kind of experiment are we talking about?"
"I’m helping to develop new medications for different conditions."
"So, I’m supposed to be like a guinea pig."
"That’s one way you could look at it. Or you could see it as someone helping contribute to the betterment of people’s health."
"Is any of this dangerous?"
"If it’s dangerous, I’m a guinea pig. If it’s not, then yeah, I’m helping people."
Luke smiled again. "Not bad for you at all. It's actually mostly different vitamin combinations. If it was dangerous, I would just give you some food and water, let you use the bathroom and take a shower if you wanted to, and then kick you out with some money. You might want to change your appearance first too in that case, but since you're going to stay hidden, it doesn't matter what you look like."
"I can't thank you enough," I said, feeling gratitude but not without some hesitation. I'd only just met him, and he could have been the same kind of liar as the police were for all I knew.
"Why would you help me if you didn't need me to help with the experiments?" I asked.
"Because I feel bad for you. You may have made some serious mistakes in your life, but I think you've been seriously railroaded."
"No doubt about that," I said in agreement.
"The only other requirement is that if I have company, which isn't too often since I like my solitude, you're to immediately head into the guest room bathroom and close the door. It can't be seen from the hallway, so it wouldn't look odd being closed. You can use the toilet while I have company, but you cannot flush it. I'll make sure bottles of water are in there so you don't get thirsty. We can throw some magazines and whatever in there to keep you entertained until I come and get you."
“Got it.”
"Lastly, there will be absolutely no phone calls, mail, or going online for a while since it's imperative that you remain hidden at all costs until things die down a bit, and we can safely get to Canada. Then, we’ll catch a flight to Montenegro, at which time we are going to have to drastically alter your appearance."
"Montenegro?" I asked.
"It's a country in Europe that has no extradition treaty with the US. I don't have any family since I lost my parents young and don't have any siblings, but I do have some friends over there who would no doubt feel the same way as I do about your case. They’d agree to help us relocate there."
"That would be great," I said. "The only problem is, when will things die down? This country has been so obsessed with me that I don't know how long it's going to take me to get out of the news."
"You're right; you'll never be fully out of the news. You were a big case and always will be, and the police will never stop looking for you. According to news reports, you were not only being charged with absconding and back payments but were also going to be charged with negligent homicide."
"What?" My eyes went wide as saucers.
"That's when he told me about Boris's friend."
"What? That was Boris's friend? I killed him? I actually killed him?" I looked at him, horrified, as he nodded to each and every question I had.
"I didn't even know the guy was connected to Boris, much less that I killed him. I thought he was simply someone who recognized me or knew who I was somehow and was just messing with me. I had no idea I hit him that hard, but I suppose that explains why he never ran up behind me when I turned and walked away. I hate to say it, but if he hadn't gotten in my face, he would have lived."
"I agree with you, Janelle. But like I said, the police won't ever give up on you."
"Funny how the ones you want to give up on you the most never do," she said in a downcast tone.
Luke smiled sadly but then brightened up, saying, "Hey, you won't be front-page news like you are now six months or so from now. Until then, let’s get to work."
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