Free Danger Calls by Caridad Piñeiro Page B

9
    Q uitting time.
    Melissa was dead tired and counting the minutes until she arrived home. Granted, Ryder had called to say a big powwow was planned, but he’d also let her know that Sebastian would be there.
    Which brought a smile to her lips.
    The smile didn’t last as she pushed through the door of the women’s locker room and encountered Sara. Uneasiness crept through her, even though Sara was a friend and had never given Melissa cause to worry—blood bags and possible theft notwithstanding.
    Sara was almost finished dressing. On the small bench was her knapsack.
    Melissa wondered if it contained blood bags.
    â€œ Hola ,” her friend said as she noticed Melissa approaching.
    â€œ Hola to you,” Melissa responded, opening her locker and eyeing Sara’s bag.
    Sara seemed as relaxed as always as she pulled on a shirt. Momentary inspiration seized Melissa. While Sara was distracted, Melissa grabbed her bag and swung it onto the bench. Right into Sara’s knapsack.
    Sara’s bag tipped over, spilling its contents onto the floor. Both Sara and Melissa rushed to pick up the items.
    â€œSorry,” Melissa said. Then she noticed the two blood bags on the floor along with Sara’s other things.
    Sara tossed them back into the bag quickly, but gazed up at Melissa to gauge her reaction. “They were expired and put out for destruction.”
    Melissa crossed her arms. “People might wonder what you’re doing with them.”
    â€œMaybe the same thing you are,” Sara responded with a tight edge to her voice.
    Nailed, Melissa thought. She’d had more than a year to prepare her excuse. “Experiments? Is that what you’re doing?”
    With a harsh laugh, Sara sat down hard on the bench, cradling the knapsack to her midsection while shaking her head. “You might call it that only…My mom’s been sick. Real sick.”
    â€œYou’ve brought her here for treatment, right?” What could tie Sara’s mom’s illness to the blood?
    Closing her eyes, Sara whispered, “She’s terminal. That’s what they said.”
    Having lived with her own mother’s illness, Melissa understood what Sara was going through. She sat down on the bench next to her friend and wrapped an arm around Sara’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
    Tears slipped down Sara’s face, but she wiped them away. “No. Some women in the neighborhood were talking about a man they visit to cure their ills—a santero . They claimed he helped them get better.”
    â€œSo you went to him? To a voodoo doctor?” Melissa was surprised that someone with Sara’s training would fall for the antics of a charlatan.
    â€œNot voodoo. Santeria ,” Sara explained as if that would make all the difference in the world. “The santero said helping my mother would take a big offering. That a normal sacrifice wouldn’t do and he needed human blood.”
    For feeding? Melissa wondered if this santero was actually a vampire like Ryder. And if he was, Sara was in for a world of hurt when her mother’s cure failed—or worse if his cure was to turn her mother. Melissa gave Sara a reassuring hug. “You know it may not work. Why don’t you bring your mom back here? I can talk to her doctors. See what else—”
    Sara pulled away from Melissa and rose, clutching the knapsack as if it were a lifeline. “I need to try this. Even if it fails. Just like you and your dad have to do your little experiments.”
    Her dad’s experiments? Had he used the same ruse she had when caught taking blood for Ryder? “My father? What was he working on?”
    Sara shrugged. “Don’t know. One day during rounds, he made a mistake. Luckily I caught it, but he was totally distracted. Said your mother was really sick again and he had to finish up his work so he could help her.”
    â€œWhen was