The Woman in the Cupboard by Merry Jones

Author:Merry Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, kidnapping, slaves, rescue, human trafficking, police detectives, drug crime, voodoo potions, bokor sorceror
Publisher: Black Opal Books

Chapter 61

A catastrophe has occurred. The patient doesn’t know what to do. She has created a terrible mess and fears she will pay dearly for it. Even now, on her knees, reaching into the bowel of the empty nightstand, she tries to rectify her clumsiness, pinching tiny clumps of powder, dropping them into the envelope. If only the false nurse would appear with more doses, she would not be so concerned. But the nurse has said it would be days before her return. And she was stern with her warning about her instructions. “Remember, we have killed you once. We can do it again.”

The patient doesn’t know which is worse: fear of being killed again or fear of decaying while alive.

How has it happened that another envelope has torn and more powder has spilled? Did the packet catch on the edge of a drawer? Did she accidentally rip an envelope while removing it? All she knows is that another packet has ripped and is nearly empty. She holds it in her hands, pleading for it to heal itself. For the powder to hop back inside. She watches the door, listens for visitors. Then she removes the drawer, turns it over, examines the remaining envelopes. Finds to her horror that all four have been similarly damaged. That much of the powder has spilled.

She pulls out the lower drawer and releases a sigh of relief. The envelopes taped there are undamaged. So, five doses are intact. But five are not. And the doses have been carefully measured. There is just enough of the powder, the nurse said. Just enough to prevent decay. But the patient has defied her, taking less than full doses so she can retain some awareness while monitoring her skin for signs of decay. But now, with so much powder gone, she is not sure if she has enough to prevent decomposition. The Grangers and the bokor made it clear: If she does not swallow enough powder, her body will resume the process of death.

She watches the door. At any moment, a nurse or aide, even a security guard might look in. Dr. Vogel has them watching her closely. And anyone who comes in will see the nightstand drawers lying on the bed and the floor. The light coating of loose powder.

It has taken her some time, but she has formed a plan, splitting the remaining powder into equal parts, hoping that the amounts will be sufficient. She reaches into the hollow of the nightstand where the powder has fallen, scraping and pinching together what few grains she can. Adding them to that which she has divided among the envelopes. Finally, she takes what there is from an envelope, pours it into a glass of drinking water, and swallow it.

She tries to replace the remaining packets, but the tape is no longer sticky, will not re-adhere to the undersides of the nightstand drawers. She must hurry to conceal them. Her mind races, sifts through possible alternatives. This acuity frightens her because the powder that keeps her intact also dulls her mind.

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