His Treasure: Chapter 9: In the blood
A bad heart
The cell door opened and a Corrections guard walked inside stone-faced. "Sterling, you have a visitor," the officer said.
Zavier moved his hands from the back of his head and sat up. "Who?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
He hadn't seen Kyle in over a month. His son, Zahir, came by yesterday. He doubted it was him. After Zaniv found out he had banished Zolah and her family from the country, he refused to come see him. Danae applied for a divorce. It probably wasn't her either.
Kyle helped her to make it look like their marriage was dead and nonexistent for many years. When he was served the papers he took them and told the clerk that he did not want to contest the process. If Danae felt like she wanted to be rid of him so be it. He had never run a woman down his entire life, and he wasn't about to start.
He stood to his feet. The guard placed handcuffs on him. Zavier followed the guard through a door to the left into a room usually used as a sick bay for the detainees. He walked in to see a young woman in a white overcoat waiting for him. He frowned as he looked at the guard.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Mr. Sterling, my name is Dr Jhonie Barnes," the young woman said. She moved closer. "You experienced a myocardial infarction."
Zavier shifted on his feet, his expression unreadable.
"I mean you suffered a heart attack. I've been asked by the court to do a standard check up just to make sure all is well," the young woman said.
Zavier chuckled softly. "You mean to make sure I don't die before the trial," he quipped.
Dr Barnes snapped on her latex gloves quickly and gestured towards the chair in the room. He looked at the guard who was watching him with a scowl on his face. He took a breath and walked over to the chair and sat down.
Dr Barnes removed the stethoscope from around her neck and put the device's earpiece in her ears. She raised the chestpiece and placed it on Zavier's back between his ribs. Zavier flinched when he felt the cold metal on his body.
"Relax, please," Dr Barnes murmured.
"Take a deep breath really slow, and exhale slowly," she said.
Zavier did as she instructed. He looked at her face. She looked like a teenager. "How old are you?" he asked.
"Breathe in for me and hold it," Dr Barnes said. He complied.
"You're not into small talk?" Zavier asked, left eyebrow raised above the right.
"I'm trying to concentrate," Dr Barnes said quietly.
"Am I distracting you?" Zavier asked, his voice dropping to a deep, gravelly register. She wasn't bad looking. He'd be free from his ball and chain soon anyway. Since Danae no longer wanted him, he may as well explore his options.
"Mr Sterling, I'm sure finding yourself in a jail cell being examined by a twenty-four year old doctor wasn't on your to-do list today, but neither was it on my agenda to care for a criminal. So can we just get this over with?"
Zavier's eyes narrowed. He looked at her, tight lipped.
She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. Zavier noticed something there, but he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe she despised him. She nodded then dropped her gaze. "Thank you. Breathe in slowly and hold that breath."
He followed her instructions.
"Release the breath slowly," she said. He did as she said. She stepped back. She placed the stethoscope on his chest.
"Breathe in," she said. Zavier did as she instructed. He noticed something spicy emanating from her clothing. 'Is that cinnamon?' he wondered.
"Breathe out slowly."
He did as she told him.
"Lift your arms above your head, please."
He lifted his hands before her face. "As you can see I'm a bit restricted," he said, his tone mocking.
"That doesn't prevent you from putting your hands over your head. It's for your own good to cooperate with me, Mr. Sterling."
He lifted his arms.
Back straight," she instructed.
"Not in this chair," he replied
"Do as the doctor said," the guard said in a surly tone.
Zavier looked over at him. He gave the guard a piercing stare.
The guard turned his head and said, "Cooperate with the doctor." He cleared his throat.
"Stand up," Dr Barnes said.
Zavier turned his head to her and stared. "What?" he asked.
"Stand to your feet, Mr Sterling," she said.
He stood up. He was over a foot taller than she was. She came to stand before him. "Lift your hands above your head and breathe in and out for me. Let me know if you feel any tightness in your chest as you do this."
He stared at her, a slight frown forming on his face. Stretching his arms over his head, he took a shallow breath. She shook her head. "Take as deep a breath as you can."
He sighed. "Alright," he said. He was getting impatient.
He took a deep breath: that was a little difficult, but breathing out was easier. He did it again, and felt the same discomfort.
"Okay, you can put your hands down and relax," Dr Barnes said.
Zavier dropped his arms and suddenly felt light headed. He reached for the chair and sat down. Dr Barnes observed him closely. "What are you feeling?" she asked.
"Just a little winded," he admitted. "Dizzy."
She nodded. She reached into her doctor's bag and brought out a journal. She wrote quickly in it. Zavier watched her.
"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly.
"You may need an echocardiogram to determine what's really happening. I can only speculate. I'm a general practitioner not a heart specialist."
"What's wrong with me?" Zavier asked, his voice strained.
"I can't say. More tests need to be run. What I will do is write down my recommendations. In a week or so someone should be here to take you for further examinations."
"A week? What should I do until then?" Zavier asked bewildered.
"Pray," Dr Barnes replied.
Zavier's brow knotted as he watched her.
She took off her gloves and dropped them in the trash can by the door. "It's not too late to get your house in order."
"What are you talking about?" Zavier asked.
"If you haven't trusted Christ as your savior you should do it now while you still have the breath in your lungs, and your heart functions well enough."
Zavier scoffed. "You're one of those?"
"One of what?" Dr Barnes asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Pathetic people looking for a pie in the sky." His eyes examined her with disdain.
She shook her head and gave a little chuckle. "Well, so far being one of those pie in the sky people has protected me from being in a jail cell, meanwhile," she gestured to him with her right hand, "you mock me but you're the one with a bad heart, and no way out of the mess you put yourself in."
She nodded to the guard. "We're done," she said. "You can take him back to where you got him."
Zavier stared at her intensely. He noticed the way her brows knotted and her jaw clenched. Her eye lashes seemed to flutter with nerves or maybe fear. She was a pretty little thing. "One of these days you're going to be on your knees begging me to help you."
"Keep dreaming," She crossed her arms over her chest.
Zavier smirked and gave a soft laugh. "Oh no, darling, I don't dream. I make things a reality." He gave her one last look.
There was something uncannily familiar about her. He turned to the guard. "Lead the way," he said.
The guard shook his head. "After you, Mr Sterling."
Zavier exited the room. The guard followed closely behind him. Jhonie leaned on the table and tried to take deep, steadying breaths.
She had finally come face to face with the man who killed her father. She thought she would have been brave to stare him down, but it didn't go like that. She sat on the chair and bent her head.
You have no influence
Zavier lay on his cot. "You seem to have forgotten something, Mac," he said, looking at the guard's back.
"What's that?" Mac asked. He didn't turn around.
"I don't make idle threats," Zavier answered. "Remember, I know where your wife works. You should be cooperating with me more than you do."
Macintosh turned his head to look at Zavier. A soft smile crept up his lips. "I told you I would work with you Mr Z, but I never said I would be your pushover. Me helping you comes at a hefty price. As for my wife, her daddy is a retired JDF Colonel. He taught her how to use a gun and other handy things. I know what my wife is capable of." He turned to face the cell door. "I expect my 20 grand by the time it's lights out."
Zavier scoffed. "You think because I'm in here I can't hurt you?"
"With what? I've heard the rumours. Your men have changed allegiance to some guy named Midnight." Macintosh circled his fingers around an iron bar.
"Not all of them," Zavier said, even as he considered what Mac heard.
Mac laughed quietly and turned his body to face him. "Oh please, don't be ridiculous! Your time is done, Sterling. It's time you face the reality. You have no influence and no one is going to help you. Make sure your son drops my money off before we lock down tonight. You got your phone as you requested. Don't play with me."
Macintosh locked the jail cell, a mocking smile on his lips. He exited through the metal-sheeted door which led from the holding area to the lock-up's reception desk.
The Arrival (Saturday morning)
Melissa jumped into his arms. As soon as he passed the Customs area and was heading in her direction she ran towards him. Jordan bent down and lifted his wife into his arms and kissed her passionately. His lips covered hers while his fingers combed through her hair.
"Eh hem!"
Jordan looked up to see Sudanie smiling at them. He smiled back at her. He placed Lissa's feet on the floor and put his arms around her. He kissed her hair.
"Hello, Sudanie," he said as he lifted his head to look at her.
"Hello, handsome," Sudanie replied. Her face had a wide grin on it.
Jordan chuckled softly. Lissa was grinning from ear to ear.
Sudanie turned to walk away. "Alright love birds let's get going."
Lissa leaned into her husband as he walked with her, pulling his two suitcases behind him. They walked fingers intertwined towards the exit of the Norman Manley International Airport. Sudanie glanced back at them and imagined it was her and Ryan. Something warm and cozy settled in her chest. She missed him very much.
Sudanie unlocked the car and the happy couple slid onto the back seats. She drove off slowly. Taking furtive glances at them while they kissed and canoodled together, she wished that was her and Ryan.
"I don't have to guess what you guys will be doing the minute you get home," she said cheekily.
Jordan pulled back a little from kissing Lissa, but made her lay her head on his shoulder. Lissa was lost in the moment. She closed her eyes.
"Jealous?" Jordan teased.
Sudanie nodded. "Matter of fact, I am," she confessed, a smile on her face.
"How's my best friend doing? I heard you guys are now a couple?" Jordan asked.
Sudanie took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah, this month will make it close to ten months we've been dating," she answered.
Jordan rubbed his hand on his wife's arm. Melissa opened her eyes and looked at him. She placed her hand on his thigh and tried to get closer, though there was no more space between them. Jordan chuckled and kissed her brow.
"Be patient, Lis," he whispered. Lissa whimpered softly, and lay back on his chest. Jordan planted soft pecks on her forehead. "We'll soon be home, baby," he said, his voice tender. He stroked her face.
"All is well between you two?" Jordan asked, looking up at Sudanie. He caught her looking at him through the overhead rearview mirror.
She nodded. "Yeah, we're doing great actually. He's on a Special Operations thing, but he should be back by the end of this month."
Jordan nodded his understanding. "Something dangerous?" he asked.
Sudanie nodded, biting her lip. "I pray for him every day," she said.
Jordan grunted his approval. "I'll make sure I do the same."
Melissa opened her eyes and stared at her hands. She hoped Ryan would be safe too.
Body Temp
The last thing Sudanie saw of Jordan and Lissa, was him allowing her to jump on his back while he pulled the bags to his apartment building. 'He must be very strong,' she thought. Lissa wasn't back to the original weight she was before the whole Shane saga started, but she had gained a few pounds. She looked better.
Sudanie reminisced about Ryan's strong, but gentle embrace. She had never given much thought to him lifting her in his arms. She never asked. He had done it before, but only because he wanted to, not because she asked.
Watching her best friend and her husband, Sudanie wondered if there were some things she had unwittingly deprived herself of. Now, she wanted Ryan to lift her in his arms and not let go. She longed to feel his possessive touch and his warm skin on hers.
At times, his body felt hot like he had a fever, but he was not sick. She nearly commented on how warm and toasty he felt once, but on December nights last year it came in handy when she curled up beside him on her couch. She had gotten so used to his particular body temp that when he was like that it made her crave his heat.
"Lord, I miss him so much," she muttered.
She slowed down her vehicle and parked it in the driveway of the gym. She had been neglectful of her sessions for over a month, but yesterday her trainer called and berated her for slacking off. She walked in to see him standing near a Lat Pulldown Machine. When he looked up and saw her, he smiled and came forward.
"Sudie, yuh reach!" He hugged her. Sudanie gave him a wry smile.
He patted her arm. "So, I have something special for you today." He eyed her from head to toe. "You seem to have softened a bit," he said, pinching her left side. Sudanie rolled her eyes.
He chuckled then said, "Stay deh ah roll yuh eyes dem. Ah going tiyad yuh out todeh!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the Leg Extension machine.
Country Boy
"Ma'am, can you please repeat that but more calmly," ACP Edward 'Big Eddie' Grant, the squad leader said. The woman gawked at him, her eyes wide open. He was a tall man--6 feet 7 inches, with a large nose and formidable stare, but he was also a gentle soul.
ACP Grant smiled at her. "Take a breath, ma'am. Please remind me of your name." He touched her shoulder.
"Miss Ivy, officer," the woman replied.
"Okay, Miss Ivy, take a breath and repeat more slowly what you were saying," ACP Grant said calmly.
"Okay, sir. Mi did inna mi bed ah sleep and mi hear one shuffling sound." She looked up at him and the three other police officers who were standing in her living room. The other seven hid in the trees surrounding the house.
Ryan saw Miss Ivy's eyes land on him. He smiled kindly at her. She continued to speak:
"Mi hear one shuffling sound and mi jump up outta mi sleep and look out thru mi windah and see three man a drag one body behind Mas Desmond house--"
Mas Desmond is the house across the street?" Sergeant Byfield asked. Miss Ivy looked at him and nodded.
"Yes sar, but mi lay kinda low pon mi bed suh di man dem nuh see mi," she said.
"Would you be able to identify any of these men?" ACP Grant asked.
Miss Ivy shook her head. "No, officer," she said wide eyed.
Ryan could clearly see she was frightened. "Miss Ivy, take your time," he said intervening. "What were they wearing?"
Byfield looked at him sharply.
He ignored him. "Take your time, Mama Ivy," Ryan said kindly. The elderly woman's face lit up. "Long time nubbadi nuh call me that enuh!" she replied with a grin. Ryan smiled reassuringly at her.
She sobered. "One of dem did have one a dem scary mask deh. Yuh know, the movie weh di kids love watch. Is a white mask like ghost."
"A scary movie mask?" Corporal Stewart aka Ryan asked.
"Yes!" Miss Ivy beamed. "Yes, a suh mi hear mi kids call it. The other two was wearing regular cloth masks."
Ryan nodded. He stepped forward. ACP Grant did not stop him. "Permit me, sir?" he asked.
AP Grant nodded. "Go ahead," he said.
Ryan pulled out a chair from under the dining table and sat across from the elderly woman. He placed his M16 rifle on the floor. Miss Ivy looked at it and then stared at Ryan.
He smiled at him. "It's okay," he said. "I'm just resting it there for a while." ACP Grant stooped down and took it up and held it beside his right leg.
Ryan cleared his throat. He bent forward and shifted the tone of his voice. "Mama Ivy, these men, do you think you would know any of them?"
The old woman scratched the stubble on her chin. "To be honest yuh nuh, one of them look familiar fi real. One of dem walk like Raheem. Mi nuh sure still, but him always walk like one of him foot shorter than one." The old woman chuckled. Ryan smiled with her.
"Di man dem call him 'Dip and Fall Back' but is Raheem him name."
"Anything else you noticed about the men?" Ryan asked.
Miss Ivy pursed her lips as she thought about it. "Hmm ... It was night still. Yes! Wait deh! One of dem did a wear one sumn pon him hand weh did ah glisten under the street light."
"What did it look like?" Byfield asked. He touched Corporal Watts' chest. The young officer looked up from the floor and looked at him. "Give me yuh notepad and one pencil," he said.
Corporal Watts nodded. He reached into his pocket and produced a notebook. He had a small pouch slung over his shoulder. He took out a pencil and gave it to him.
"Corporal Stewart," Byfield said.
Ryan looked back. "Take this and see if you can write a description," Byfield said. Ryan nodded. He took the notepad and pencil, and turned back to Miss Ivy.
"Okay, Mama Ivy, tell me what the thing on the guy's hand looked like."
After spending twenty more minutes talking to the elderly woman, the men went back to base along with the seven officers who stood guard outside.
ACP Grant called Corporal Stewart into his tent. "Corporal Stewart reporting for duty, sir!" Ryan saluted his superior.
ACP Grant saluted him. "At ease," he said.
Ryan relaxed his shoulders, crossed his left hand over the right, and stood with his feet slightly apart. ACP Grant looked at him for a little while, then said, "Good job today."
Ryan nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said.
"A few days ago you disappeared. Where did you go and why?"
Ryan cleared his throat. "I didn't go far from the camp, sir." He took a breath and released it slowly. "I wanted a break, I guess."
ACP Grant chuckled. "And it has nothing to do with a woman?"
Ryan smiled a little. "Maybe."
"Well?" ACP Grant smiled at him.
Ryan relaxed. "Actually, yes."
ACP Grant nodded. "I figured. I was young once, Corporal." He sat down on a small plastic chair and gestured for Ryan to sit on a pull-out chair before him.
"I've noticed your transfer to the Half Way Tree Police Station. Either way I'm glad you're on our team. You asked to be assigned to the Specialized Operations Unit?"
Ryan shook his head. "No, sir, I was assigned, but I have experience in armed response. I worked for one of the top guard companies in the country for seven years."
ACP Grant nodded. "Yes, I vaguely remember seeing that in your file. As for what happened a few days ago, I know you may be missing home, but you have to be more careful. I have no intention of losing any of my men on this mission. Understood?"
Ryan nodded. "Understood, sir. It won't happen again," he answered.
ACP Grant nodded with a brief smile. "The date of our departure has been moved up. We will be leaving this area on the 27th to accommodate the community outreach group who will be coming in. You'll be given a week's leave so you can rest and get your mind settled to re-assume duties at your assigned station."
Ryan smiled. A week's break sounded good. He was happy. He longed to see his sweet Sudie. "Is this for all the men?" he asked.
ACP Grant nodded. "It is," he answered.
Ryan nodded. "Thank you," he said.
"I'll let the other men know in briefings later," ACP Grant revealed. "I just wanted to commend you on how you handled the interaction with our elderly citizen earlier."
"Thank you, sir. She reminds me of my grandaunt. I'm actually a country boy," Ryan divulged.
A surprised look passed quickly over his superiors' face. "Really now? From where?"
"From St. Elizabeth," Ryan said proudly.
ACP Grant gave a short chuckle. "I'm from Clarendon myself."
He sobered and gave a slight nod. "The Force needs people from various backgrounds to make our organization strong. It is a difficult job, but very rewarding." He stood up. Ryan took that as his cue to go. He rose to his feet.
"You'll do the second watch tonight," ACP Grant told him.
Sexy Pics
She smiled at herself as she pulled away from the gym's parking lot and headed home. After two minutes, she heard a notification. She fished the phone out of the pocket of her sweat pants to take a look. Her eyebrows shot up and a smile graced her lips as she read the message:
In the blood
After Jhonie ended her shift at the hospital she went over to her cousin, Rachel's house. She sat down and kicked off her crocs. She pulled up her feet and tucked them underneath her. Rachel walked in with a cold glass of water and a small plate with some tea biscuits.
Jhonie smiled as she reached for the gesture of hospitality. "Thanks, Rach. Always can count on you to fatten me up."
Rachel looked at her. They stared at each other for a couple seconds before they both burst out laughing. "Girl, please!" Rachel exclaimed. "You know nothing can fatten you up. You've been at the same weight since you were sixteen!"
Jhonie grinned at her. She settled back on the couch and started eating and sipping the cold water. Rachel leaned back and studied her for a minute, then said, "You seem a little tense. You said there was something you wanted to tell me?"
Jhonie took a deep breath: her shoulders lifting as she inhaled and sagging as she released the breath loudly. "I saw him" she answered.
"Saw who?" Rachel asked, brows furrowed.
"My dad's murderer," Jhonie said, munching on a tea biscuit/cookie.
Rachel leaned forward. "You saw uncle Winston's killer?" Her eyes were wide open. "Where?"
Jhonie cleared her throat. She was about to speak, but decided to slip some water first. Then she bit into the sweet, plain looking cookie. She chewed, swallowed and took a shallow breath.
"I was drafted to tend to him until his trial," she answered, her heart heavy.
"Who? Who are you talking about?" Rachel asked, moving closer.
"Zavier Sterling, aka Mr Z."
Rachel's eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets. "My god! That guy?! I've been following the case." Rachel leaned forward and touched her cousin's thigh. "How? How do you know it's him?"
Jhonie laid her head on the back of the couch. "Mommy told me. The minute the police arrested him, she called me into her bedroom and pulled out some old newspaper clippings about my dad's murder. She told me everything.
"Daddy was into importing sports paraphernalia and other things. He was hoping to make money from that venture while still working as a doctor. Mr Sterling approached him and told him he could make him more money. He suggested a business partnership." She paused and rubbed her temples.
Rachel touched her cousin's arm. "I-I'm sorry, hun. You say you're treating him?"
Johnie nodded. "Ironic, ain't it? Dr Scofield, paged me to his office this morning, and told me the fantastic news!" She scowled at the glass of water in her hand. She placed it on the table with a loud clank that made Rachel flinch.
"What are you going to do?" Rachel asked.
"A thousand things have passed through my mind," Jhonie said, closing her eyes.
"Like?" her cousin asked.
"Like poisoning him slowly. Make it almost painless, but day by day he gets weaker and weaker, until one day he closes his eyes and doesn't wake up."
A chill ran up Rachel's spine. "Hun, that's murder. As a doctor aren't you supposed to do no harm?"
Jhonie laughed bitterly. "Right now I don't know how I feel, and you're asking about that?"
"Hunny, you're also a believer in Christ. Doesn't the Bible say don't seek revenge, leave vengeance to God?"
Jhonie opened her eyes and sighed. "It does, doesn't it?"
Rachel looked at her, feeling alarmed. "Jhonie, you're scaring me," she said, eyebrows raised.
"You're not the only one," Jhonie said. She sat up and placed the plate beside the glass of water.
"What are you thinking?" Rachel asked.
"I'm thinking of hurting him in some way. Hurting him so I can get rid of this pain in my chest. I was twelve, Rach. This man killed my father because he found out about his illegal activities and threatened to go to the police. This Sterling guy killed my dad because he threatened him. My dad did nothing to him. Why should he get away with it?"
"Maybe you should tell your advisor that you can't take this patient." Rachel suggested.
Johnie shook her head. "No."
"But Jo--
"I said no!" Jhonie stood up, her chest tight and shoulders rigid. "God has given me this opportunity. I won't waste it."
Rachel looked up at her. "I don't think the Lord would approve of you killing your patient though."
Jhonie took out a picture of her father she had tucked away in her black slacks. She touched the face in the faded photograph. Holding it up so her cousin could see it, she asked, "Who do I look like more: mom or dad?"
She looked up at her cousin. "His blood flows through me, Rach. How can I not do something about his killer?"
Rachel stood and went to her cousin. "You know whose DNA also runs through you?" She touched her cousin's shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. "Your mother. You know your mother wouldn't want you to do anything stupid or dangerous. This man, Sterling, is very dangerous. You have to be careful. Maybe you should tell Dr Scofield about your situation, and ask him to dismiss you."
Jhonie's shoulders sagged as she cried quietly.
"Cuz, I'm sorry." Rachel rubbed her back. "Your father's blood flows through you. But you are also washed in the blood of Jesus Christ. His blood saved you. You live for Him now, remember?"
Jhonie's body went rigid. "It's in my blood, Rach. My father's blood in me cries out for justice," she said, her nerves becoming steel. She stepped back from Rachel and wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks. She grabbed her bag resting on the couch.
"Where are you going?" Rachel asked.
"I need to think," Jhonie declared.
"Jo, don't do anything stupid, or I swear I'll tell your mom," Rachel warned, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I won't do anything," Jhonie answered. 'Not now anyway,' she thought. "I'm just gonna go home and sleep."
"Jo," Rachel said, her voice filled with a clear warning.
"I'm just going home to think," Jhonie answered. "That is all."
Rachel reached out to hug her. Jhonie allowed her to hold her, but her mind had moved beyond her cousin's living room, into the jail cell of the man she despised more than anything.
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