Chapter 38—Therapy Session
Dilbert and his trusty plane were waiting at the airport. Arnold’s casket had already been loaded up for transport. He was only waiting for his passengers.
Sylvia drove from the hospital to the airport, with Lydia and Debra in the backseat. The windows of the vehicle were darkened, and a wall separated the backseat from the front.
As they left what she presumed was the inner city, Lydia had a sudden thought. She hammered on the dividing wall. Sylvia lowered it to eye level. “What is it?”
“Turn around,” Lydia said.
“Why?”
“Turn around! I have an idea how we could find Mark!”
Sylvia kept driving straight. “Tell me and I’ll relay it to Arthur.”
“There’s no time for that!” Lydia said. “The longer we wait, the farther away they get! Look, Mark has two friends. Guys that follow him everywhere, who he always hangs out with. Rich and Bruce.” With all that had happened, it hadn’t occurred to Lydia before now that they might know where Mark was.
“So you think these two will know where to find him?” Sylvia asked. “Mark is consorting with terrorists these days.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Lydia said. “What other lead have you got? Bruce’s house is right at the edge of the city. I had to work on a project with him at his place, so I know where he lives. Turn around and I’ll take you there.”
“We need to get you out of the city,” Sylvia said. “They may be looking for you.”
“What’s another hour going to hurt?” Lydia asked. “I’ve already been here for days now. It’s not like they know exactly where I am now, right?” She pushed the dividing wall down farther. “This could be our chance to catch them.”
“You have done enough,” Sylvia said. “I don’t need you hopping into action again.”
“Fine, I won’t do anything rash. I’ll just talk to Bruce,” Lydia said.
Sylvia studied Lydia and faced the road. She sighed. “Alright. Where to?”
Lydia guided her to the outer ring of the city. Within minutes, they were driving through small neighborhoods that hardly differed from one street to the next. Eventually, they stopped in front of the red house Lydia remembered.
Bruce was home. When he saw her, Lydia thought he looked like he’d seen a ghost. She asked him if the three of them could come in. Bruce nodded mutely.
As Debra talked with Bruce’s parents, Lydia and Sylvia sat down with Bruce in his living room. “So, um,” he said, slapping his knees. He shiftily glanced at Sylvia. “What can I do you for?”
“We need to know where Mark is,” Lydia said simply.
“What do I look like? His keeper?”
Lydia frowned. “You and Rich hang out around him the most.”
Bruce shook his head. “Not these days. He up and disappeared awhile ago.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“No idea.”
“But he’s the leader of your little gang.”
Bruce laughed. “Leader? No, no, no. Mark hangs out around us. Wouldn’t leave either of us alone. We went along with it at school because he wouldn’t stop annoying us otherwise.”
“So, you have no idea where he is?” Sylvia asked.
“No,” Bruce said to her. He crossed his arms. “All I know is that around the time you left,” he said, looking at Lydia, “is when he left, too. Good riddance.”
Lydia was surprised by the revelation. She may have felt pity for Mark, if there was any more room in her besides her hatred for him. She couldn’t blame Bruce. Mark was never friendly or tolerable. She had seen firsthand how truly horrible he could be.
Sylvia thanked Bruce for his time and they returned to the car. Lydia was silent until they arrived at the airport. Sylvia reassured her that the police were doing everything in their power to find Finster, Mark, and Heather.
The plane ride home was uneventful. Lydia and her mother chatted the entire way, deliberately avoiding the subject of Arnold and the upcoming funeral. Debra had recently been praised for a case she assisted on and was in a great position for a promotion. Lydia’s cousin had been the unfortunate victim of a root canal. Lydia told her mother about their trip to the bank and how they’d escaped, but she skimped on the story of the holdup at the gas station. Debra was frazzled enough and her nerves couldn’t handle that, Lydia assumed.
Lydia and Debra were blindfolded when they neared the Cave. Once the plane had landed on a runway, especially constructed for it, inside the Cave, their blindfolds were removed. Arthur greeted them as they exited, expressing his deepest sympathies to Debra. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Rest assured, we will bring these people to justice.”
The Cave’s pastor had taken a few days leave. Arthur expected him to arrive the next day and had arranged for the funeral to take place the day after that.
“In the meantime, we have a temporary room set up for you in the Center,” Arthur said to Debra. Sylvia unloaded Debra’s small suitcase and Lydia’s backpack from the plane while the casket was moved elsewhere. “Also, we have a counselor on call, Gary Reece. He said he has some free time tomorrow if you two would like to see him.”
No thanks, Lydia thought.
“I think we will. Thank you,” Debra said.
While Dilbert escorted Debra to the Center, Arthur held Lydia back. “Normally, I would lay into you over what you did,” he said, crossing his hands behind his back. “But under the circumstances, I’m only going to say I’ve had to tighten security because of you. I should probably even congratulate you for finding a weakness like that. That’s nothing to say of the hostages at the bank.”
“Do I get medal? Perhaps a key to the Cave?” Lydia asked, smirking.
“Don’t get cute. It was very reckless, nonetheless. You’ll be watched stringently from now on.”
“Alright,” she said.
Arthur looked taken aback. “No argument? No verbal lashing?”
“Don’t get cute,” she said.
He smiled. “You’re excused from class and self-defense for the rest of the week.”
“Actually, I’d like to attend self-defense,” Lydia said. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Keeps my mind occupied.”
He nodded. “Very well. Now go with Sylvia. Dr. Barrett wants to see you. We’ll settle your mother in on the second floor. If you or she needs anything, just ask.” He turned and left.
In the Center, Wren was waiting like an excited pet. As soon as Sylvia and Lydia stepped through the doors, she bounded up to Lydia, Donny in tow. Wren squeezed her in a tight hub. “You’re back! You’re back! You’re back!” she cried.
“I couldn’t believe it when Wren told me you done run off,” Donny said. “Is it true you took on terrorists with Aidan and Jando?”
“Yes,” Lydia said. She slapped Wren on the back. Wren dropped her arms and grinned sheepishly. “So, are the two of them here? Are they alright?”
“They’re doing fine. But taking down terrorists? That’s pretty awesome,” Donny said. Then he looked down.
“Um,” Wren started, uncharacteristically torpid. “Is it true about your dad?” She chewed her fingernail.
Lydia frowned. “Yeah.”
Donny scratched his arm. “Hey, we’re sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Still,” Wren said, “if you need anything, we’re here.”
“Thanks,” Lydia said. Sylvia broke off their reunion and escorted her to Barrett’s office. Once there, Sylvia handed the doctor a vial filled with a colorless, opaque liquid. Barrett pocketed it and thanked her. Then Sylvia left Lydia in her care.
Barrett examined Lydia from head to toe. When she was satisfied, she released her. The girl excused herself and headed to the second floor. A guard had been placed at the elevator and the adjacent stairwells. He allowed Lydia to pass, but she supposed that this was one of Arthur’s attempts to “keep an eye on her.”
Debra was already situ
ated in a small bedroom. There was a modest bed, a dresser, and a television—good enough for a couple of days. After checking that she was alright, Lydia retired to her own room for the night.
On the way out of the Center, she ran into Aidan. The bruise on his cheek was now a sizable lump, but hopefully it would improve soon. He greeted Lydia briefly. “You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said before he walked off, “for all your help.”
“Sure.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Anytime. Sorry about your dad.”
At her dorm, Lydia discovered a bundle of fresh roses next to the door. She picked up the bouquet and read the attached card. It was from Jando, wishing her well, good health, and how he dearly missed her beautiful presence. Lydia chuckled. She pricked her fingers on the thorns jutting out of the thin plastic wrapping.
As she opened the door, she heard a crunch underfoot. There was a stray golden tulip, its stem crushed by her shoe. She picked it up. The petals had been flattened by the roses. A small card was tied to the flower as well. It was from Aidan, wishing her a speedy recovery and best wishes. Despite Lydia expecting it to smell rancid from her shoes, the tulip had a sweet scent.
Lydia looked around for a container to hold the flowers. The best she found was a small water glass. She went to the bathroom and knocked on Janice’s door.
Janice timidly opened it. “Yes?” When she saw Lydia, she gasped. “Oh, no. Was I being too loud?” She held a small dog in her arms. It barked happily.
“Nice dog,” Lydia said, scratching behind its ears.
“I’m so sorry,” Janice said. “He hasn’t been out of the laboratory for days and I was probably playing with him too loud. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? I’m sorry!”
“Uh, I was only curious if you had a vase or something for these?” Lydia asked, showing the flowers.
Janice quickly handed her a water jug and shut the door on one of her long ears. She yelped. “Are you alright?” Lydia asked.
“Fine, fine!” Janice opened the door and freed her ear.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m alright! Thank you!” She shut the door.
Lydia stood there for a moment. “Er, thanks.” She plucked one of the roses from the bouquet, laid the rest aside, and put the rose and tulip in the jug. She placed the jug on her nightstand and went to bed.
* * *