chapter three: bella
The door to Frankie's room opened and shut quickly, causing Frankie to snap out of her thoughts of Kilmer and Angel. A little girl stood staring at Frankie with big eyes. She clutched a Barbie doll whose hair had been chopped off. The child took a step towards the bed, then stopped.
"Hello," Frankie said.
The child studied her for a moment longer, then smiled. "We're playing hide and seek. Can I hide here?"
"Okay."
"Good." She climbed onto the bed. "I'm Bella."
"That's a pretty name." Now that she was closer, Frankie could see how pale Bella was. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white and her arms bore bruises from countless needles. Frankie fought the impulse to hug her. "I'm Frankie."
Bella held up the doll. "This is Barbie. She's very sick. The doctors want to stick stuff in her again. That's why we're hiding."
"Maybe the doctors just want to help her." It wasn't hard to figure out that Bella was talking about herself.
Bella shook her head. "She's been sick forever."
"How old are you, Bella?"
"Six. But I'll be seven in January. Daddy says I'm a big girl."
"Wow, so you're in kindergarten then. I bet that's fun, huh?"
"It's okay. Nakeisha goes there too. She's my bestest friend. Her mom even let her come visit me here. She gave me Barbie." Bella tilted her head curiously. "What did your bestest friend give you?"
"He brought me flowers."
"Your bestest friend's a boy? Boys are gross. Danny Anderson wanted to be my boyfriend but he picks his nose." Bella pulled a face. "Is the boy who brang you flowers your boyfriend?"
"Umm, I don't know."
"Did he kiss you? If he kissed you then he wants to be your boyfriend. Mommy says that kissing's only for mommies and daddies." She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "I saw Daddy kiss Mommy once. Yuck!"
Frankie was completely charmed by Bella. For someone so sick, Bella was remarkably cheerful.
"Hey, Frankie, how come you're in hospital?"
Having no desire to tell Bella she'd been kidnapped and tortured, Frankie settled for the simplest explanation. "I have pneumonia."
Bella's eyes widened. "Does it hurt?"
"Sometimes. Only when I cough."
"Mine doesn't hurt. 'Cept when my nose bleeds or I have to come here and they give me tests."
Frankie didn't know what to say to that. She stroked Bella's hair instead.
The door opened again. This time Nurse Hatcher entered with a man Frankie recognized as Congressman Alex Ryan. "Sorry about this, Frankie. No one noticed Bella slip away."
"Come on, pumpkin," Ryan said.
Bella huddled against Frankie. "No, Daddy. I don't wanna."
"Bella, you have to."
Tears streamed down her cheeks. "But I don't feel sick. Can we go home? I wanna go home."
"Bella, come now. I'm sure the lady would like her peace and quiet."
"Frankie doesn't mind. She's my friend."
"Tell you what, Bella. You go with your dad and I'll come visit you later. Would you like that?"
Bella nodded. "Promise?"
"I promise."
"Okay."
Nurse Hatcher picked Bella up and carried her out. Congressman Ryan smiled at Frankie, but there was no joy in it. "I'm sorry about this."
"It's fine. I'm Frankie Kilmer, by the way."
"Alex Ryan." He sighed. "Did you mean what you said about visiting her?"
Frankie nodded.
"Thank you. She's in the oncology ward. I'll put your name on the visitors list." He turned to leave.
"Just how sick is she?"
"If she doesn't get a bone marrow transplant soon, she's not going to make her seventh birthday." Though he said it matter-of-factly, Frankie didn't miss the obvious pain the words held.
When Ryan had left, Frankie sat staring at the door. Her seventh birthday, Ryan had said. Bella had less than a month.
Six years and eleven months more than Amy'd had.
"Frankie hates me," Angel said. They'd arrived in Marrakech a few hours earlier and were sitting in Kilmer's hotel room, waiting for their contact to arrive. Angel was in the bathroom, putting together the finishing touches on her disguise.
Kilmer lay on the bed, staring up at the cracked roof. As he shifted, the mattress springs squeaked in protest. The walls of the room were in desperate need of a paint job and the carpets smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Overall, the Toubkal was not somewhere Kilmer would have chosen to come on a vacation.
He heard Frankie's name and sat up. "What was that?"
"I said, Frankie hates me."
Kilmer laughed. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm being serious."
"Angel, you yourself pointed out that Frankie has a lot of psychological stuff to deal with. She hasn't been herself lately. Give it some time. Get to know her." Kilmer knew exactly why Frankie had been offish to Angel, but he wasn't about to tell Angel that. He smiled; Frankie had thought he might be interested in Angel. She was jealous. It did wonders for his ego, and then there was that incredible kiss . . .
"Kilmer, are you even listening to me?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
Angel came out of the bathroom and Kilmer blinked in surprise. She looked completely different. Her red hair was hidden under a black wig and contact lenses made her eyes blue.
"Wow."
"Our contact is late," Angel said, her hands on her hips. "Do you think you could make some phone calls, find out what's going on?"
"You're not as cheerful as you usually are. Something wrong?"
"No."
There was a knock at the door. Kilmer jumped up to answer. "That'll be our contact."
Frankie flipped through the TV channels but nothing caught her interest. She eventually settled on CNN, deciding it might be useful to know what was going on in the world. The volume turned on low, she picked up a magazine.
Voices from just outside the door caught her attention. "I'll bend the rules for you just this once," Nurse Hatcher said, "and only because you've come so far."
The door opened and Faye Kilmer entered, heading immediately for Frankie and hugging her. Then she stepped back and studied Frankie critically. "Don't they feed you in this place?"
"Of course they do." Frankie's smile was genuine. Faye Kilmer hadn't changed one bit. Tall and reed-thin, her hair was as dark as it had been the day Frankie had met her. She'd told Frankie that just because she was getting old, it didn't mean she had to look and act like a geriatric. "It's so good to see you. What are you doing here, though? I thought—"
"If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mohammed."
Frankie laughed, then winced when her ribs hurt.
Faye sat down. "I wanted to see for myself that you were fine." Her eyes narrowed. "And you're not. You lied to me on the phone."
Frankie looked away. "I've been having some trouble sleeping. It's nothing."
"Hmm."
"Really."
"If you say so. Where's my son? I thought he'd be camping right outside your door."
"Morocco."
"What's he doing in Morocco?"
"Saving the world, probably." Frankie smiled, then remembered whom he was with, and her smile faded.
Faye shook her head. "Well, I suppose we'll have to use the time to catch up. Now, tell me, what have you been up to?"
This was a bad idea, Angel thought. She and Kilmer sat in small restaurant, killing time. Their contact, a CIA agent known to them only as Fareeda, had apologetically told them that Alexandru would only be in Marrakech the following day. Kilmer was grumpy because he could have had an extra day with Frankie and the more time Angel spent with him, the more she wished Atkins had sent someone else with her instead.
She studied him now, mentally comparing what she knew with what his file had told her. He was brilliant, driven and dedicated. What the file hadn't said was that he was still head-over-heels in love with his ex-wife. It was also clear that Frankie still had feelings for him. Angel didn't understand why, if they still loved each other, they had got divorced.
Angel had been attracted to him from the day they'd met, though she knew it was a hopeless cause. She had a tendency to fall for unavailable men. Besides, she told herself sternly, she had a job to do. Revealing her feelings would only complicate things and with so much at stake, she couldn't afford any awkwardness in her relationship with Kilmer.
She'd always been good at hiding her true feelings, especially when it came to her job. She would do what she had come to Threat Matrix to do, and then she would move on and forget all about John Kilmer.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such devotion. Frankie Ellroy-Kilmer had no idea how lucky she was.