Donovan called to the doctor before he entered the pre-op ward. "I thought you should be aware, she may have a concussion in addition to the knife wounds."
"Thank you, we'll keep a close eye on her," he pledged. "Was it the done by the same person who killed those college girls?"
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm not at liberty to discuss it."
"Of course...if you'll excuse me."
Donovan thanked him and returned to his team.
************
He had been so close to punishing her again. But it wasn't her...it was some undercover whore. He would find her again...but in the meantime, he had that redheaded slut to take care of.
She was different, he decided. Yes, definitely different. But he still had to hurt her...he needed to hurt her. He couldn't let her think she could get in the way of his objective and get away with it. No, the redheaded lady cop would pay...they would all pay.
It was time for a little fun...
*************
"Excuse me," the receptionist in the waiting area called out. "Mr. Donovan...there's a call for you."
Donovan walked to the nearby phone. "Donovan."
"Frank Donovan?"
He frowned. "Yes?"
"I'm the one who carved up your little whore."
Donovan didn't respond. He wouldn't give the demented freak the satisfaction.
"Did you hear me?" the killer yelled.
"Yeah, I heard you. What do you want?" Damn, if only they could trace the call.
"I want you to give the pretty little thing a message. Tell her I'm not done with her...I have special plans for her; not like the others. She's special and I'll do her special."
He wanted nothing more than to scream into the phone and tell the freak where he could stick his knife, but again, he remained silent.
"Nothing to say, Mr. Donovan? Don't you care about your lady friend? Don't you care that I'm going to take her apart...piece by piece. Maybe I'll send them to you one at a time when I'm done with them."
Hang up, Donovan. You can't trace the call and he's not going to tell you where to find him. Why are you listening to his ranting? He's only trying to get to you, to make you crazy. Hang up!
"And her hair...yes...I think I'll cut that off first. Would you like to keep her hair, Frank?"
He slammed the receiver into the cradle with such force pain shot from his hand to his shoulder. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
"Frank, who was on the phone?" Monica asked.
"Him."
"My God! What did he say?" When he opened his eyes, Monica saw a hint of fear in them, but it was quickly replaced with rage.
"He just wanted to brag," he answered. At the moment he didn't feel like talking about it. It's not like anything he said would lead them to him.
Jake returned to the waiting room with coffee. That was just enough distraction to keep Monica from asking any more questions. Donovan took the opportunity to ask the receptionist if there was any word yet on Sabrena.
"I'm sorry, sir. You'll just have to be patient."
Alex handed him a cup of coffee. "Come on, Frank. Sit down, you're making us all a nervous wreck."
He sat down, took a sip of coffee and was back on his feet...pacing.
Alex shrugged at Jake and Monica. "Patience is a virtue, but his has flown out the window."
He was a patient man. He had outwitted some of the best in negotiations because of his patience. This was different...this was one of his own. It was personal.
Another hour passed. Jake stretched his aching muscles. "We've been waiting for almost four hours. I wish someone would give us an update." Everyone nodded his or her agreement.
"Who's in charge here?" A voice asked from the doorway as if Jake's request had drawn him to the waiting room.
Donovan looked up. "I am."
"I'm Doctor Pendleton," he said. "I'm a plastic surgeon."
"Plastic surgeon?" Alex asked.
Doctor Pendleton sighed. "Yes. The good news is that, although Ms. Fairchild has lost a lot of blood, the knife didn't hit any organs or do any permanent damage. Because of the extent of the wounds, the resident surgeon decided to call in a plastic surgeon. I took meticulous care to see that your friend wouldn't be left with ugly scars. She'll have scars, but they'll be hard to notice."
"Can we see her?" Donovan asked.
"She's in recovery now. We're concerned about the head trauma and she'll need to be watched carefully. As soon as she's moved to a room, you can see her."
************
Monica returned to the waiting area after leaving the nurse's station. "Bre is resting in her room now, but they will only allow one of us in at a time."
Jake and Alex looked at each other, but it was Jake that spoke. "Frank, when she wakes up, tell her we send our best. Alex and I are anxious to get back to the campus and look for any trace of a clue."
"And I want to check the classes to see if someone is missing." Monica added. "We don't know if Bre got a good look at the guy or not...maybe she did and he's gone into hiding."
Donovan nodded. "Good idea, all of you. Report in on the hour."
************
He opened the door slowly, careful not to disturb her. He was surprised by who he found sitting in the chair by the bed. "Hey, Boss."
"Cody! Assignment over already?" Donovan was surprised to see his young agent back in the fold so soon, but he couldn't be happier to see him. Sabrena would be thankful for his presence...if she would just wake up.
Cody nodded. "How is she?"
"Stable. She hasn't woken up yet."
"You look terrible, Frank," Cody said, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. "Why don't you get some rest?"
"I'm fine. Tell me what happened in Florida," he insisted.
Cody rolled his eyes. "It was over before it got started. I met with Vansuala and everything was set, but he was whacked by someone on the inside before I could actually join his operation." He shrugged. "Now they have to wait and see what happens; who's in charge, when the dust settles."
Donovan nodded. "I'm glad you're back."
"Thanks, Frank."
Cody turned his attention back to Bre and sat on the edge of the bed. He smoothed her hair from her forehead; then took her hand in his. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, Sabrena Francesca Fairchild?"
"It's my fault," Donovan whispered.
Cody shook his head. "I called Jake when I first arrived. He told me what happened."
"It doesn't matter."
"No, I guess it doesn't," Cody agreed. "Bottom line is, she didn't follow orders. If she did, she wouldn't be here."
"Hi, Poppy."
Cody and Donovan looked at each other and then at Sabrena. She was still unconscious.
"Who's Poppy?" Donovan asked.
"Her grandfather."
"No, Poppy, I haven't...just like you asked." They saw a hint of a smile on her lips and heard a little girl laugh. "Yes, sir, Nona is fine. Mommy and Daddy, too." After a lengthy pause, she sighed. "Yes, he is, isn't he? No, I don't think so." A giggle. "I like his ears, too."
"Sabrena? Wake up, Sabrena. Come on, Bre," Cody urged, shaking her gently. He smiled when her eyes fluttered opened. She blinked several times, trying to focus.
"Cody? Is that really you?" She asked, not quite believing her eyes.
"Yep, the one and only." He teased and kissed her on the forehead. "Frank's here, too."
She looked in the direction he indicated and Frank stood and moved closer to the bed. He had the strangest look on his face and she wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or cry.
"How're you feeling, Redhead?" He asked.
When had he started calling her that? She couldn't remember, but she liked the sound of it on his lips. The endearment caressed her ears...sensually. "Like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day," she joked through the pain that enveloped her chest.
Cody rolled his eyes and laughed. "That's my Bre." Everyone jumped when Cody's cell phone rang. "I'll be right back, and I'll let the nurses know she's awake," he said, leaving the room.
Donovan took the place on the bed that Cody had vacated. Sabrena lifted a hand to his cheek. "You look tired, Frank. Have you been with me the whole time?"
He smiled warmly at her. "Where else would I be?"
"Thank you," she whispered. Feeling tired, she let her hand drop back to the bed. "I'm so sorry, Frank."
"I know, Redhead. Maybe now you'll listen to my instructions."
His voice held no anger or blame—only concern, and for that she was glad. And she had something important to tell him. "I saw his face."
"Did you recognize him?" he asked, trying not to get too excited from her revelation.
"No, but I can see his face clearly. And he works at the college, he's not a student."
"You said you didn't recognize him." Maybe she was disoriented from the drugs. It was possible, although the doctors only gave her a very mild sedative.
"No, but I know," she assured him. "There's a lot of rage in that man. Each victim represents someone in his past. Someone he both loves and despises. He's tormented with his memories and he thinks he's killing the very person who torments his sanity." She paused, closing her eyes and laying her head back into the pillow. "He's sated for a short time, until he finds someone else who resembles his obsession. Then he goes on the hunt again." She opened her eyes, her gaze locked on to his. "He'll come for Monica again. He'll find her, no matter where she goes."
Frank didn't answer. She was right, the killer would go after Monica when he was ready, but he had another target in mind first.
"What's wrong, Frank? Is Monica okay? Did something happen to her?" She asked, grabbing his hand.
"She's fine. We got to her before he did," he said, gently squeezing her hand.
"Oh...I see," she said, quietly. "I had almost forgotten that."
"Bre?"
"He promised to come back for me. And he will," she stated with certainty.
Donovan leaned over her, brushing his lips to hers. "I won't let him touch you again, Redhead," he promised, pressing light kisses to her closed eyelids.
"I know you won't," she sighed. No, he would give his life to protect her...and that frightened her more than being carved open by that maniac.
To be continued...