Chapter 3
by owlhero
Zack was a maelstrom of emotions.
Anger at the fact he was stuck in the hospital room. Not even the air conditioner and the sun rays could lift his spirit.
Exasperation at the police chief who decided the boy in the hospital gown and the IV in his arm did not need to know information about the state of the investigation in the kidnapping of his own twin brother.
The stinging sensation from his flexing hand merely added to Zack's state of displeasure at his state of affairs. The metallic protrusions sent shivers down his spine at the thought of the nurses having to remove them.
Fear engulfed him as he remembered his brother being dragged into the van, Cody's sneaker-clad feet the last things he saw of his twin and the license plate numbers staring back at him as his eyes faded to black.
The maelstrom tore him up inside as it clashed with two choices. To rip apart the island day and night, sifting through every particle of sand until he found his twin.
Or he could figure out a plan—find leads, use his brains for good instead of pranks.
But he could not do any of that while lying in the recovery wing of a hospital, wearing only a hospital gown and his boxers.
But Lady Luck was smiling on him today, for she had brought him an opportunity—a chance to get Cody back.
The messenger took the form of a Mr. Marion Moseby. The same short, authoritarian, no-thrills man he and Cody had driven bonkers since they were twelve.
How ironic is this? I torture him with luggage disasters, schemes and pranks to drive him insane, and he knows someone who could help me? …Maybe I should be nicer to him from now on?
That could be the concussion talking…
Zack's mind refocused as the ship's manager wove a tale about a private detective named Jack Matthews…
"Well I guess I should start at the beginning…" Moseby smiled at the memories rushing from his past and glanced at Maya, who was sitting a few feet from him.
"It all started in college for us, so innocently. I was of course studying for the hospitality industry." Moseby ignored Zack's smirk. "Jack was studying at the university nearby for pre-law and psychology in anticipation of earning a master's degree in criminology. As a result, university and college students hung out at the same places or visited each other in the dorms on the weekends."
A nurse interrupted the group as she checked Zack and his monitors, leaving as silently as she came, smiling to the patient as she left.
"Jack and I actually met on a miniature golf course one night on Spring Break," Moseby said.
"You met him playing Putt-Putt Golf?" Zack's eyes glittered as he messed with the IV cord on the bed.
"Zack!" Maya interrupted him. "I'm sure Mr. Moseby has a perfectly good reason for playing golf during one of the best partying weeks of the year."
A jesting tone betrayed Maya's serene face as she finished.
"Yes I do… I was broke during that period. With my family situation, there was barely any extra spending money for my mother to give me." Moseby looked out the window as he said this, ignoring the mockery rather than sympathy he sensed from the two young adults in the room, sunlight blending with his white blazer and tan shorts.
"I received a scholarship to go to college, so I did not have any tuition bills. But unfortunately I decided to move away from my mother for school, thus I needed to work. I worked between classes and on weekends. I ended up have to pay for an apartment, plus living expenses."
His eyes moved to the reflections of Zack and Maya, whose faces reflected surprise at the intimate knowledge falling into their laps of a friend, guardian, and mentor. The pair's earlier humor had been forgotten in the weight of the moment.
"I could not afford the costs of taking a vacation to a warm climate when I had to worry about making the next month's rent."
Moseby's smile eased, deleting the memories of the exhausting sixteen- to eighteen-hour days going from classes to the college bookstore, helping fellow students find the correct editions, and studying until all hours of the night.
His small hands adjusted the blazer as he sat straighter in his chair. The rubbing of the buttons and the fabric echoed in the room.
"Anyway, I met Jack playing miniature golf. I waited for him to finish the hole in front of me while his girlfriend attempted to bounce the ball off the clown's foot to hole it. The first thing I remembered about Jack was his spirit. He always seemed to be alive, trying to get involved in everything around him. He was what you would call a free spirit. He wanted to make the world a better place. I found that part of him energizing to be around. His determination was almost overpowering. Once he put his mind to something, he would not stop until he finished.
"Even though we spent only a hour or two navigating the course and each other's intellects, we uncovered a mutual love of discovery. For Jack, it was the cause of people's actions and their consequences, while for me, it was the unveiling of myself and helping others.
"I said goodbye after the final round and we went our separate ways, never realizing we would meet under much tenser circumstances."
"Tenser circumstances?" Zack's voice leaked unnatural nervousness.
"Yes. As a matter of fact, the event changed both of our lives." Moseby's flint eyes sparked at this. "All due to a stupid mistake on my part. Which very nearly cost me my life."
Two pairs of eyes stared at Moseby. The hotel manager had been in life-risking circumstances?
"All the combined hours of my schooling and work did not lend to a healthy social life…" Sadness eclipsed Moseby's tone. "I had no girlfriend, very few friends in college outside class. Eventually it all came back and bit me on the butt. I ended up in a bar one night the week before midterms, trying to drown my cares in watered-down beer.
"It seems shocking you would do such a thing as drinking when stressed out," Maya said. "I mean, we've always seen you mostly under control. Even when Zack pulls his pranks or practically sinks the ship, you're always somewhat under control."
"That's true." Moseby smirked at Zack's expression as he looked at his girlfriend. "However, with age comes wisdom." Ignoring a snort from Zack, he said, "I have other ways of dealing with stress. You know, like exercise or yoga."
Both Zack and Maya snickered.
"As usual, my younger self had a few too many beers and started arguing with other patrons." Moseby grimaced as memories arose—tripping over stools, knocking mixed drinks and shots of Jack Daniels and Captain Morgan to the floor. The fuzzy lightning, the disorientation, the nausea all revived themselves. On their heels arrived shame, tripling his pulse and exposing the vein in his forehead. Now came images of the wood-grain floor, his nose smashed, the nerves in his cheeks on fire from the force of the blow. The taste of iron in his blood as it pooled on the floor around his nose, uncertainty over how he'd landed there.
"Before I knew it, I was on the ground. I tried to get up, but my arms failed me. Hands pulled my useless body upright. I must have looked ridiculous." Moseby almost laughed at the memory of his own helplessness.
"When my vision cleared, I saw a face. It was my old friend Jack. I had no idea of why he was there, but thank goodness he was. He somehow lugged me out as he negotiated his way through the crowd. I could barely hear him smooth talk his past a few people who wanted to talk to me. As you could imagine, their tones were not exactly polite."
"I bet not…You trashed their place. I think I'd want to talk to you if you did that to my bar." Zack's voice was humorous and serious at the same time.
Moseby looked at him, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. Zack got the message and amusement evaporated from his face.
Maya's voice ended the silent standoff between the two rivals. "Stuff like that happens in the Big Apple all the time. With all the sports crowds and everything, if everybody went ballistic over a few spilled beers, the city wouldn't have lasted this long. It probably would have exploded from the rage over spilled drinks."
Moseby ignored the jab. "Miraculously, I got back to my apartment in one piece and then proceeded to…well…suffer the consequences. But after that, Jack and I stayed in contact permanently. Soon after, Jack decided to get his hands dirty and applied to the police academy. At the time it seemed shocking. Only later did I realize something."
Moseby saw the wondering stares of the students and continued.
"Jack was applying his knowledge as a criminologist, which he pursed rigorously. In a twisted form, it was as if he was trying to test his own theories of the criminal mind like a scientist in the field, trying to figure out whether his hypotheses were correct or not."
"But wait," Maya interrupted. "How was he able to use criminology if he didn't graduate before becoming a cop?"
Moseby chuckled. "For most people, Maya, you would be right, but Jack by some unknown way, arranged his classes so by the time he started the police academy, he had finished with his criminology degree.
"The next time I saw Jack face to face was several years later, as I was working at the Boston Tipton. He was a rising sergeant in the Boston Police Department. He had gotten married to his college sweetheart and moved to Boston after spending time in NYC in the Bronx's major crimes unit."
"This guy must have been hardcore. I mean, dealing with death and blood in the 'hood. And still being able to just get on with it."
Moseby could hear the jealousy and excitement in Zack's voice. "Unfortunately Zack, all that blood and death came too close to home for Jack and changed him forever."
Sadness overwhelmed Moseby. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and when he opened them, Maya was biting her lip while Zack had gone slightly pale.
"I received a call late at night after my shift. It was Jack. I could barely understand him, there was so much pain in his voice, as if it was stealing a piece of him of him with each second."
"What happened?" Maya asked, a quiver in her tough New Yorker voice.
Moseby dabbed his eyes with his pocket handkerchief. "From what I could piece together, Jack and his wife were walking to the subway one night, on their way home. It was a simple attempted robbery with lethal consequences. The thief surprised them both from behind with a gun, a desperate man just trying to scrape by, needing a few dollars. He panicked when he realized how little the pair had on them. In the end, he fired and hit Jack's wife in the chest. She died in his arms."
Maya rose from her chair, shaking slightly, and reached for Zack's hand. The two exchanged a glance, grateful to have each other in the middle of their own ordeal.
"After his wife's death, our contact became sporadic. Months passed between phone calls and even then they originated from his squad house at odd hours. It was almost as if he lived there."
"Sounds like those detectives on TV who would sleep in a backroom at work to get an early start on a case," Zack said. "That kind of job is tough on families, though."
Maya laughed at Zack. "You watch too much TV."
Zack glared at her, only to put his unbandaged hand to his head and grimace. Maya stopped smiling for a second until Zack looked at her and smiled. Maya returned it, and concern melted from her face.
Moseby's eyes glittered at the scene between the two. But he tried to continue with the tale.
"But I think Zack is right about Jack. He just seemed different from the man I met in college. He was so determined, he made detective. Our friendship was in tact, but he didn't talk about his job, only asked about mine. It was odd. Then I found out why."
Zack and Maya leaned, faces etched with concern.
The police department's Internal Affairs investigated him for his actions in a case. I don't know why but they dropped the case. Soon after, Jack mentioned he was moving to Jamaica. He said it was for a new job. I thought it was to start over. That was over twelve years ago."
"So that's how he ended up on the island. But you said he was a detective. How did he become a private investigator?" Zack's eyes had grown dazed but held focus despite the concussion.
"Well, Zack, I don't know the whole story, but all Jack said to me was he did not like how things were being run down here…However, the way he said it was curious. Working in Jamaica should be one of the better opportunities to fight crime at its roots, unless you're busy helping tourists who get lost on their way to the beach."
"Maybe he didn't get along with his bosses," Maya said. "That happens to everyone. Why not him?"
"If he had a boss like Edwin Hawthorn, I can see why," Zack blurted.
Moseby shrugged. "Only Jack knows the true reason behind it. Though it has to be huge for him to quit his job and go private."
Maya and Zack watched Moseby step toward the door, then turn to them.
"I'll be right back. I'm going to call Jack and see if he can help us. It helps us if we have another to find Cody. Unless there's an objection…"
When there was none, Moseby left the room.
"I'm heading to the cafeteria, do you want anything?" Maya asked quietly.
"I'm not sure," Zack answered then groaned, holding his stomach. "I don't feel too good."
"Must be the concussion. I overheard the nurses telling Mr. Moseby nausea may be one of your symptoms. How about some soup then?"
"Okay…with lots of crackers."
Maya headed to the cafeteria, leaving Zack to his addled thoughts and churning stomach.
Ten minutes later, she backed into the room with two huge bowls of tomato soup on a tray full of crackers.
When she turned around, her face paled as she saw Zack had fallen asleep, cocooned in the sheets.
Soup bowls slid across the tray as she placed it on a chair, followed by the toppling of crackers.
"Zack! ZACK! WAKE UP!" She shook him until he rolled onto his back..
"Another five minutes, Cody. Who cares about Tut's test?"
Despite the circumstances, Zack's sleepy comment made Maya smile. She shook Zack again, more gently this time. "You need to stay awake."
Blue irises opened to the light, still foggy with dreams.
"Maya?"
When she nodded, Zack thought he saw tears in her eyes, but he might have been imagining things.
"I've brought lunch." Her voice echoed in Zack's consciousness.
As they dug into their food, the chirping of a bird outside the window brightened the mood in the quiet room.
"Zack?...what's wrong?" Maya asked, noticing Zack sip at his soup.
"I was wondering about Cody…where he is, how they are treating him, is he okay?" He moved the spoon in circles through the soup, as if in a trance.
"You done?" she asked.
Zack nodded, and she set his half-full bowl on the tray.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I should have been with Cody the whole time," he said. "Not… goofing off, checking out crap in the market." His conscience filled in the words he couldn't say to Maya: flirting with those girls.
"Zack…Things happen. You and Cody were paying attention to different things. In an open market like that, its hard to keep track of anyone. You practically have to be superglued together."
"But why did it have to be him? And why did he have to wander off down an alley? I mean, he's knows that's a risky thing to do."
"I'm don't know, Zack. Maybe he didn't realize what danger he was until it was too late.
"I can't be mad at him, he's still my brother. I shouldn't have let him go down that alley. That way he would still be with us."
"Cody is his own person. Yeah, he's your twin and probably the most important person in the world to you, but what you were going to do, lock him in his room? If he's anything like you, he probably would have found a way to get out anyway."
"In an overly complicated way so he could show off to everyone," Zack answered with a sad smile.
"I may not have known you two as long as the others, but I do know one thing: once either of you puts your minds to something, you either succeed brilliantly or/and cause destruction in the process. And from what I've heard, you are the eye of the hurricane when it comes to the chaos."
"Hey! Cody is not so innocent, you know? Zack blustered in defense of his honor. "He just doesn't does get in trouble very often and is very sneaky about it."
Maya had to smile, but her happy expression disappeared when Zack continued.
"I keep asking myself why it was Cody and not me? I'd give anything to switch places with him right now."
"I know you would," Maya answered, her hand on Zack's arm. "Anyone can see that. We can't truly know why. Sometimes it's just bad luck.
"That's just it. Was it bad luck? I mean, think about it. He's a tourist fresh off a boat. He doesn't know anyone on the island. Granted, he's probably the one person who doesn't live here who knows the most about the island."
Zack paused, his expression both intriguing and confusing Maya. He suddenly resembled the Thinking Man statute. In a hospital gown.
"Could that be it?...Could Cody's curiosity have gotten him into trouble?"
"I can see that happening to be honest," Maya said. "Sometimes curiosity can be too much of a good thing."
Zack wanted to tell Maya she was wrong, but realized he couldn't.
"I guess Cody didn't listen to the very small part of his mind that's street smart."
"Could be." Maya's neutral tone spoke volumes.
"It just not fair. I would have known not to get involved. But Cody had no idea. He probably told them off when he saw they were doing something bad. Damn him and his kind, humanitarian nature." Zack grabbed a pillow from behind his head and punched it.
Maya watched silently, hoping he wouldn't thump something harder.
"If I'd been there earlier, if those guys had seen me, I could have distracted them, given Cody time to escape…" Zack punched the pillow again.
"If I'd been there with him, we could gotten away together. He'd still be here and I wouldn't be stuck in this stupid hospital, unable to do anything. Who knows what they've been doing to Cody all this time? They could have…"
"You can't think like that, Zack. You have to keep up hope for your twin."
"Why should I? All this is my fault."
"Really, all your fault? Is your fault Cody has a habit of poking his nose everywhere? Is your fault Cody went to the island this morning? Heck, even decided to get out of bed and see the natives after being stuck on a ship for the last week?"
Maya's slap-to-the-face questions stunned Zack. He sat back for a few with his knees up against his chest while Maya waited for him to respond.
"How do you know when to do that?" Zack asked her after a few moments.
"Its an acquired skill. Its up there with learning how to flag a taxi during a New York rush hour. Sometimes you have to be completely blunt."
"Cool." Zack messed with the gown for a second, then looked at Maya again, his face full of deep worry mixed with fear.
"Maya, is there any reason they would keep Cody alive?"
"I don't know, Zack." Maya looked away for a second. "What was that area like?"
"It was sort of hidden from plain view. I remember the locals avoiding that alley when we were near it. I got weird feeling from it when I passed by like we shouldn't have been there." The twin's eyes awakened with the description.
"So that it could have been used for drug deals or something."
"Yeah, maybe. " Zack seemed to seemed to perk up, distracted from his gloomy thoughts.
" Let's go with that premise. So that means the kidnappers are it in for money. We can guess they were worried about Cody ratting them out to the police, thus cutting off their income stream."
Zack jumped in. "So you're thinking Cody caught them in the act and they're keeping him until their current deal goes down."
"Why not? They hang onto him, maybe blindfold him and hide him away from everything. They can finish the deal and then drop him off in a different part of the city. With Cody not knowing the city or his holding location, he wouldn't be able to help the authorities stop them until it was too late.
"And by the way, you say I watch too much TV," Zack shot back. "Your idea is straight out of a crime novel.
"I thought you didn't like to read."
"Textbooks, yes. Comic books and stories about gangsters interest me. But seriously, how do you know all this?"
"Sorry, but this is from real life. Some people in my old neighborhood New York have family members who are involved in some not-so-legal financial activities. They say if the money is worth it and the risk is low enough, they're willing to do it.
"But in the meantime, you have to rest." Maya saw Zack start to groan. "Or do I have to get the nurse with the BIG needle to make you fall asleep, which you know, could be dangerous since you have a concussion?"
"All right, all right, I give" Zack laughed, settling against his pillows.
Maya carried the tray to the door.
"I'll go see what taking Mr. Moseby so long. "If you need anything, even just someone to talk to, I'm here for you."
"Since when did you go soft?" Zack asked with a raised eyebrow.
Maya glared at him lightly. "I may be a New York girl, but I still have a heart when it comes to the people I care about."
"Even London?"
Maya laughed. "Yes, even when London is having one of her moments."
The two shared a smile. Maya set down the tray and returned to Zack's bedside.
Zack froze as Maya hugged him, his face registering shock given the previous moments, her perfume invading his nose.
Maya let go of Zack and said a simple phrase: "There's room in my heart for you as well."
The door opened and closed, leaving a self proclaimed-player frozen in place.
"Thank you, Jack, for coming so quickly."
"I was only playing golf, Marion. I just finished a case a couple of days ago."
The two men entered the recovery wing from the warm weather outside. Sunlight blasting through the windows enlarged the shadows to cover the wall behind them.
They passed the nurse's station. The occupants smiled at Jack Matthews, dressed in a gray button collared shirt and khaki pants, a five o'clock shadow giving him a vaguely grizzled appearance. as they prepared for the next frantic call from a patient regarding a bedpan, morphine drip, or even a TV remote.
The room numbers on the tan plaques blended into the walls to lessen patients' stress, but the supply closets and views into patient rooms provide a normal hospital atmosphere.
The sterile air reminded Jack of a different scene, one he wanted to forget.
Flashing ambulance lights, shouts about his wife's practically nonexistent blood pressure and pulse.
Blue uniforms with the insignia of Emergency Medical Technician as they tried to pry the fallen form from his grip.
The screaming, the crying from a source unfamiliar to him.
Then his mind told him it was himself. He denied it, of course. It could not true. He'd just had dinner with her. She had chicken parmesan and spaghetti, mozzarella cheese piled on a mountain of filling carbohydrates. Jack had a medium rare sirloin steak with a baked potato overloaded with sour cream. Both topped off their meals with a shared slice of Boston cream pie.
Oh Caroline…
The memory had faded, the waitress and the inside of the diner erased, but it haunted him at odd and random times.
"Are you alright, Jack?" Moseby asked the private investigator.
Jack smiled at his old college chum. "Yes, Marion, I'm fine. I was just thinking over the case you want to help on. I'd rather get started right away."
"I am glad you want to get started. Everyone is worried about Cody considering the situation. However, if you give me a minute, I'll introduce you to Zack. I'll just see how he is and if he is up to it."
"I have a feeling he'll be as willing as I am considering his brother is the one in trouble."
"That's an understatement." Moseby searched the hall for Zack's doctor.
Jack turned and almost got run over by a freight train.
"Oh…excuse me. I'm trying get to that man right behind you."
"Oh course…Edwin."
Edwin Hawthorn stood back and looked at Jack.
His eyes widened. He began to sweat, and his blood pressure soared as he recognized the man in front of him. Visions of a now-former co-worker cleaning out the desk opposite his desk in disgust, Cardboard boxes stacked on his desk with a shield on top.
"Jack Matthews! What in blazes are you doing here?"
Well…Edwin, I'm here to start an investigation in regards to a relative of a patient in this hospital. As a matter of fact, I'm going to see him now."
Edwin was a bull ready to charge after a matador with a red muleta, Jack's presence infuriating him more by the second. His eyes sprouted thunder at the man in front of him, steam rushing from his nostrils.
Yet Jack made no move, a slight narrowing of his eyes the only change to his serene face.
The blood lowered from Edwin's eyes as he regained control, his face dehorned and back to its human form. "May I ask whose case you are looking at? Maybe I can help?"
"It involves one Zackary Martin. His brother has been missing for the last several hours after an incident in the market. Zack was knocked out during his attempt to prevent the crime."
Jack saw Edwin's reaction—a tightening of his fist, which only limited his own reaction even further.
"I see you know of the case?"
"Yes, my men are working on it currently and are using all available resources to find him. I am sure we don't we don't need your assistance, Jack. My people can handle it."
"I'm sure they can." Jack intentionally put the emphasis on the pronoun.
Edwin ignored the snipe, even though it galled him. "Jack? We're on the same side. We both want what's best here: for that young man to come back alive."
"His name is Cody, by the way. Remember that. Unfortunately, there's no way I can leave this alone. Marion Moseby is an old friend. He called me in on this as a favor. He's known both the boys forever and cares about them a lot. He's putting out all the stops to make sure Cody comes back in one piece."
Edwin's eyes blazed as Jack turned his back to him. "Well, I wish us both good luck in our investigations. Let's hope we don't step on each other's toes.
Edwin watched Jack stride down the hallway, then spun on his heel.
Nurses and patients swerved around him as he barreled toward his officers, waiting in the lounge.
"Sir, are you okay?"
Edwin glared at the speaker before clearing his face for a second.
The duo of cops backed away from their boss as he bore down on them, anxiety tightening their faces as they waited for their boss to say something.
"Listen and listen good."
The officers practically stood at attention at Edwin's commanding tone.
"You will watch Zack Martin every second of every day. Just follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything he's not supposed to. We cant afford for something to happen to him as well."
The officers recognized Edwin's tone, and it terrified them.
"The same with Jack Matthew. He may have been one of us, but he isn't anymore."
The officers had heard of Jack Matthews. The veteran of the force. A go-getter. A principled man who stuck to his guns.
The officers nodded, but Edwin ignored them. "He would just get in the way of our work. Make sure he doesn't affect the status quo.
Understood?"
The voice resonated in each officer's brain. They swallowed quickly, glanced at each other, and nodded in agreement.
"Good" The smile on Edwin's face seemed unnatural. A lion among zebras, licking his chops at anyone who dared violate his law. "Very well then. Proceed. Quickly. Or you know who will suffer the consequences."
The officers disappeared in a blink of an eye, desperate to please their supervisor while thoughts of their families loomed large. They had reason to worry. Those who didn't please Edwin suffered "misfortune" at the hands of the police chief. At best, their careers ended then and there.
After all, it was rumored Edwin tossed Jack's career to the side. So why he could not do theirs just as easy?
At worst proved too hard to think about.
"Hey, doc?" piped a voice from the next hallway. "When can I leave? This place sucks, and I can't stand to be here another minute."
"Well, young man, we have to make sure you're stable enough before we can let you leave," The doctor said.
Zack ignored the pretty nurse standing in the doorway. Moseby and Maya stayed seated next to the bed.
"The doctor's right, young man," Edwin said, materializing beside the nurse. "They have to make sure you won't fall down and hurt yourself the second you get out of bed."
Hearing the sneer in Edwin's voice, Zack wanted to scratch him from the room with his glare. Who did this police chief think he was? But Zack kept his mouth shut. He had more important things to worry about.
A second later, Jack appeared and interrupted the police chief.
"If I may intervene on Zack's behalf, what would prevent him from leaving the hospital?" he asked the doctor.
"As you can see, Zack is still recovering from the injuries he sustained in the incident this morning," the doctor answered in his stable, professional tone. "We have to make sure he's stable enough for release."
"Well, what about the last set of tests done on him?" Moseby spoke inquisitively and politely, but at the same time, there was something else in his voice. "Did they show anything unexpected?"
"Ah no, they did not…but…" The doctor's eyes veered toward the police chief.
Maya spoke up in her fierce soprano, "The concussion is the only thing keeping Zack, right? If' it's a minor one, can't he be allowed to leave? The SS Tipton has medical facilities available if he has a relapse."
"That's true, young lady…" The doctor's voice trembled at the onslaught. "…But we're waiting on the results of Mr. Martin's last brain scan and cognitive test. They should be here any moment. If they are the—"
"I can't wait…" Zack let out a pained sigh and drummed his fingers on his covered leg.
Five minutes later, the doctor received a file.
"It turns out you did fine and we can release you…" He tried to continue, but a shout from his patient interrupted him. He showed a hint of annoyance as he waited for Zack's zeal to settle.
"…I just ask you to be careful. Headaches and nausea may persist for two or three days. And try not to exert yourself. Over-exertion can trigger a relapse, making recovery take longer."
Zack nodded, while Maya added, "We'll try to make sure he does not try too hard, but he can be hard to control sometimes."
The doctor replied with a smile, "I understand, youth tend to think they're invincible. But please watch for any issues and if they flare up, make sure he gets examined as soon as possible."
Moseby and Maya understood their instructions.
Jack watched as Edwin grimaced and glanced at Zack as the doctor left and soon followed him out. Jack's left eyebrow rose as he thought about Edwin's reaction.
In what seemed like no time at all, Zack had been disconnected from the IV tubes and was back in his jeans and T-shirt.
"C'mon, doc, I don't need the wheelchair, I'm fine."
The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you have to. You are still under my care."
"Since when?" Zack rolled his eyes in frustration. "You told me to be careful."
"Well, the wheelchair will help you in that manner."
"This is why I hate hospitals. You doctors are so restrictive."
The doctor smiled at the blond twin. "It's for your safety."
"He's right, you know."
Zack turned to see Mr. Moseby finish the sentence.
"Zack, I have known you for years. You are the type of person who sometimes does not think through everything before doing it. Which can be good or bad depending on the situation. The one we are in now falls in between both good and bad. It all depends on your choices."
Zack understood what Moseby was saying and listened while he continued.
"As for the wheelchair, I advise you to take the wheelchair for now. I suspect you will need the strength for what's going on."
"Okay." Zack relented. "But I won't like it."
"That would be too much to ask for." A smile marched across Moseby's face as he shook his head.
The group, including Jack Matthews, exited the hospital after saying their goodbyes and promising to be careful with Zack.
But Zack stopped the wheelchair as soon as Maya had him rolled him through the hospital's front doors.
"Zack? What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? I 'm getting out of the wheelchair."
"Are you insane?" Moseby screeched, attracting scowls and curious stares from passersby—patients and their visitors, tourists, locals, nurses.
Moseby lowered his voice. "Did you not hear what the doctor said? He told not to exert yourself." His eyes popping from their sockets, along with the vein in his forehead.
Zack moved his feet from the supports and they hit the ground, kicking up dust and petals that had fallen from flowerpots nearby.
"I don't listen to you, why should I listen to him?" he said, checking his pockets for his possessions.
Moseby ran his hand over the top of his head and sighed. "Indeed, so true. You are a stubborn hooligan."
Zack grinned at his one-upon-a-time nemesis and lifted himself from the chair, his arms straightening as he stood. His legs quivered as his full body weight fell on them., but he stayed upright. He smirked at his audience, pride in full bloom.
"See, told you I didn't need a wheelchair."
Zack's vision wavered, the surroundings blending into a swirl of color as his head spun. Or was it the ground? His knees gave out and he swayed, eyes on the fading red of hospital's brick walkway.
Arms shot out before he ended up with even more injuries, some physical, others to his ego.
"Need a little help?"
At the familiar perfume, Zack opened his eyes. He saw what appeared to be cotton with a head of brown hair .
A perfect view, Maya filling his vision with her warm smile. Her arms wrapped around his own, pinning them to his sides. For a second, he didn't want to move.
Then reality kicked in.
"Thanks, Maya."
She released him, and Zack repositioned himself for a better view.
"Sure you're not overdoing it, Zack?" Jack said.
Zack looked at the private detective. He appeared relaxed.
Zack did not quite trust him. Nonetheless, the way Jack helped with the doctor did not put him on Zack's bad side either. Yet.
"Maybe I did, but right now I have other things to worry about. Like Cody."
"I understand. I know what it's like to be extremely focused. But there's a cost for it." Jack frowned and lowered his eyes for a second. "But it's up to you. Why don't we go to my office? It's a few blocks away, and we can continue our conversations there."
The group agreed.
Zack tried to move forward but staggered again. Maya grabbed him around his waist.
"Is this going to be a common occurrence?" she asked.
"I hope not. I don't want anyone to think I can't take care of myself. But in this case, I'll make an exception."
"Good or we may never get to Jack's office with you slithering on the ground or tripping over every crack in the sidewalk, " she said.
Zack put his arm around Maya's shoulders, and the group plodded their way to the PI's office.
Needing a few moments alone, Jack told Moseby, Maya, and Zack to sit in the waiting area while he organized files for the case.
Sitting back in his chair, he rewound the situation in his head.
He had a missing student in the city taken after witnessing something. The only other witness was his twin, who had been knocked unconscious trying to intervene.
Another layer was the fact both were students on board the SS Tipton, the "academic" institution sponsored by the head of Tipton Industries…
A twist of the door knob derailed his train of thought.
"Jack I think we need to talk. Now" His old friend Marion stood in the doorway, flanked by Zack and Maya.
"Of course, sit down. I was just going over the case and figuring an idea of what to do…"
Moseby was almost bowled over to the floor as Zack shoved his way into the room.
"Jack, I want in," Zack said.
Jack observed the teen with varying amounts of annoyance, amusement, and shock.
"I see you've recovered already."
"I'm fine. Lunch filled me up." Zack put his unbandaged hand on the wall to steady himself.
"That's good because you almost broke me with the meal tab." Jack smiled at his own joke.
"We have to ban him from the buffet after his second or third helpings sometimes." Moseby said as he pick himself up from the floor and brushed himself off. He glared at the offender, who was still boring holes into Jack's skull.
"Hey, I have a missing brother here." Zack's outburst killed the humor.
"So you want to get involved?" Jack asked, and Zack nodded.
"Why do you think I should let you help me? In my line of work, the victim's family members often get in the way of an investigation, not aid it.
At the eruption in Zack's eyes, Jack knew he'd hit a sore spot.
"Because…" Jack felt the pain, destruction, and guilt in the layered response. "…I have already been turned down once by that idiot police chief, Edwin Hawthorn. Besides, I can't just sit around and wait while who knows what happens to my brother, especially since I failed to do anything to stop it. In the end, you need all the help you can get."
Jack leaned in his chair and looked up at Zack, who had closed the ten feet from the doorway to the desk, passing the two chairs and the potted plant in the process.
The room contained a standard wooden desk in a dark mahogany, paintings of plants and wildlife, Behind Jack, small framed photos, including some of Moseby and Jack in their younger years.
Jack blocked out the details of his office as he processed the complications of the situation. He sympathized with Zack's predicament, with the desire to solve the crisis because he blamed himself for not being able to stop it in the first place. He could still the remember blood drenching his hands and clothes as Caroline lay dying in his arms, the way she cried, begged him to save her. When he screamed for help, his voice merely echoed into silence. That helplessness he felt as the last warm breath seeped from her mouth and touched his face. How her eyes faded and her hand unclenched and hit the ground, death slowly eclipsing her remains with cold air, leaving her a husk to decay.
Jack mentally shook himself. No doubt Zack was brimming with guilt over what he was able and not able to do.
Maybe this is his way of redeeming himself to himself or others?
Jack set aside the question for later and concentrated on exploring all angles. Should he allow Zack anywhere near the investigation?
The first problem was that if he did not let Zack get involved, the boy could start a crusade to find his twin. He could turn the town inside out, stirring up trouble .
It was easy to imagine the anarchy an emotional, unthinking, impulsive eighteen-year-old could cause in a city this size, ranging from walking into places he shouldn't to having the police and Jack's team chase him down, thereby preventing them from doing their own jobs.
Ultimately, Zack could get lost or captured—causing Jack a whole new set of problems. The least of which would be how to get both twins out alive without getting himself killed as well.
And, on the other end of this internal dialogue, further aggravating Jack's dilemma: what if he did let Zack get involved?
It was just as easy to imagine all of his carefully laid plans erode to dust if the boy made a single decision without checking in with him. And heaven forgive Jack if Zack got his hands on a weapon—not impossible in a city like this. Guns going off in places in they should not, injuring and maybe killing people he needed to question for information.
God, the mountains of paperwork, questioning by local and international authorities, the possible loss of his PI license all due to one unqualified decision by an eighteen-year-old with no impulse control.
What if Zack dies during the investigation?
Of all the questions running through his mind, this one scared Jack the most.
He could not fathom a scenario in which Cody was recovered alive from whoever had taken him, only to have to tell him his twin had died in the effort. Jack did not think he would be able to look into the matching eyes of the twin, whose other half only hours before had been fighting to find him.
Visions of Zack dying in the effort now replaced Caroline's image so easily it was sickening. Why did this case touch him so? Because Zack and he shared the same feelings of guilt for inaction? One for his wife, the other for his identical twin brother?
Jack stole a look at his late wife's bracelet as he split himself into parts, grappling with the decision.
An additional factor was how his friend from college would react to such a catastrophe. Oh no, that just made it harder.
Zack is the damned variable in all of this, isn't he? So easy to predict, but very hard to plan for or against for that matter.
Just as Jack thought his mind was made up, his conscience decided to add yet another factor to the equation.
You don't think you're doing this for revenge against Edwin, do you? A middle finger salute by using the boy for your selfish means?
As the questions mocked him, he could not deny their truth.
After all, he destroyed what YOU tried to recreate. A life. It would only be fair to see you return the favor. A least a little bit anyway.
Jack needed a half-second to collect his thoughts and finalize his decision.
He looked at Zack, whose face creased as he waited.
"Alright, Zack, I've decided to let you in on the investigation."
Zack exploded with emotion, but a warning look from Moseby killed his boy's launch into space.
"However, when we start searching for clues, you do as exactly as I say without question." When Zack started to object, he said, "If you don't, I will cut you from the investigation and make sure you stay locked in your cabin or hotel room with a watch posted until it is completed. Am I crystal clear?"
Zack looked at Jack and saw granite eyes. No way to get around this. He nodded quickly.
"Good. Now, let's get started. Sit down. We have some things to discuss."
His audience of three complied.
"First order of business: the police went over the security footage from the area where Cody was taken. They think they saw some known members of a local gang, but since the cameras are older than dirt, the footage doesn't allow for a one hundred percent match to anyone in their files."
"Who cares if it's not a complete match, it's a lead." Zack shouted out. Moseby scowled at him.
"I happen to agree with you, Zack, so we will proceed on that front as well as others."
"We have to be careful," squeaked Moseby.
"Maya said Cody might have seen a drug deal or something go down. and they wanted to hold him until it was over."
Jack tapped his pencil on the desk. "I can certainly see that happening here, Zack. This paradise can hold its fair share of blemishes. Drugs and human trafficking, for example."
Zack' gaped at him, bug-eyed. Jack realized his mistake and corrected instantly.
"However in this case, I am betting on an interrupted drug deal with Cody in the middle."
"What do we do?" Jack heard the tremor in Zack's question, and his heart went out to the young man.
"Here's what we do…"
After Moseby, Zack, and Maya had learned the basics of the plan and gone back to the resort to collect their belongings, Jack was left to do some soul searching. Again the ringing of the phone interrupted him.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"Hello, Mr. Matthews?
The voice on the other end startled Jack, but he refocused in a heartbeat.
"Well, its good to hear from you sir."
"I see my salary has provided for the best communications possible."
"Yes, sir, it has."
"Good. I heard you just solved a case that dealt with an issue we are both familiar with?"
"Yes, sir I did. It just wrapped a case couple of days ago. It was very successful. With the evidence I have collected, the official and the trafficker were put away. Combined sentences equaled over twenty years.
"Very good, Mr. Matthews. I hope you have another case lined up to tackle?"
"Unfortunately, I have another case that has caught my attention," Jack proceeded to outline the fundamentals of the case.
"Ah yes, I have heard of the case from my sources in the area. How sad. Well, good luck in it."
Jack raged in silence at the speaker's utter disregard for the people in the case. Considering the speaker's own personal affairs… it was distasteful.
"Sir, the people is this case, especially the boys' safety, are my first priority."
"I understand that and I admire your drive. But if there's anyway you can get rid of the threat to my business in the area while doing this, it would be greatly appreciated. They are preventing my enterprises from broadening and I would like to expand into this new frontier."
"Of course, sir. I will try my best in both my efforts. "
"I am happy to hear that for both of us. Besides we are both getting something out of this. I will be impacting on the local market while you will get paid a handsome salary."
"Thank you, sir, it's a lot of work."
"I know the meaning of work. If you succeed in taking out the threats to my interests in the case you're handling, there will be a handsome reward for you. One which I think you will enjoy."
Again Jack heard the mocking voice. This time there was a greedy snarl to it. Like it was focused on personal advancement above all else.
"I understand completely, sir."
"I am sure you do, Mr. Matthews. I am sure you do."
The dial tone droned in his ear and Jack disconnected the call. How deep was this hole—this hole into which he had dug himself?