Chapter 5: The Plot Thickens
Back at the hospital, Reid was sitting in a rather uncomfortable recliner at his daughter's bedside, watching her sleep. The sedation from the surgery had worn off, but she hadn't actually opened her eyes yet. She'd always been small for her age, but she looked so tiny laying there, attached to monitors and IVs. Her light, chestnut hair stood out lividly against the white bedding, as it lay around her in an unruly, slightly tangled mane. The only real hint that she was even alive, apart from the machines, was the gentle rise and fall of her tiny chest. The only sounds in the room were the beeping of the monitors and the ticking of the analog wall clock. Suddenly, Reid's phone started vibrating in the inside pocket of his jacket. When he took it out to look at it, his wife's picture had appeared on the screen. Not wanting to wake Evina up, he reluctantly stepped out into the hallway before answering it.
"Hey…"
"How is she?" Maeve asked.
"Better… She's not in as much pain as before and even though it hasn't broken, her fever's come down more than two degrees…" He told her reassuringly.
"Is she awake yet?"
"No. The anesthesia wore off but she hasn't opened her eyes yet."
"I can't say I'm surprised, that poor girl must be exhausted, have you heard anything from the team yet? What have they figured out on their end?"
"Just that they do think that Evi was the primary target and that because she doesn't have any real enemies, certainly none who would be capable of something this sophisticated, they think I'm probably the real focus of the Unsub's rage, which is why we're all in protective custody until this is over."
"I know, there were guards posted out front when I got home…"
"Hopefully this will all be over soon, until it is though, we need to be careful. I don't think it's a good idea for Conan and Isabel to eat or drink anything that wasn't sealed or that you didn't make for them, that goes for you and me as well. We can't afford to take any chances with this."
"Alright. Now, I assume you stepped out so you didn't wake her up or scare her. You should get back in there. I don't want her to wake up alone in a strange hospital room." Maeve told him.
"Ok."
"Text me when she wakes up."
"You know I will." He replied.
"And Spencer?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you…"
"I love you too."
"Bye."
"Bye." He replied, hanging up.
Just as he opened the door to come back inside, he saw Evina's greenish-blue eyes open slowly. She blinked a few times and gazed around the room, like she was trying to figure out where she was. She seemed, apprehensive, clearly there were holes in her memory of what had happened. It wasn't until she saw her father that her body language softened, and she smiled weakly at him, as relief in the knowledge she was safe washed over her.
He smiled back, trying to hide his own apprehension. "Hi Sweetie, you're awake." He said as he returned to his chair at her bedside.
"Hi Dad… where are we…? What happened?" She asked.
"You're in the hospital. You got really sick and your coach called your mom, then she called me and I brought you here. When we got here they had to do surgery, but everything's ok. You'll be fine Sweetheart, I promise." He told her. His voice was calm, steady, but inside he was trying to buy into his own assurance. She'd made it ok this time, but he knew better than anyone that she wouldn't be safe until they found out who did this.
Evina shot her father a knowing look. "Daddy… please don't lie to me. There's more to this. Isn't there?" She asked. He didn't answer, but she could tell he was hiding something. Knowing he wasn't about to tell her what was really going on, at least, not right then, she decided to change the subject. "So… when can I go home? What about school? Tennis? Music? Tai Chi?" She asked.
"I don't know yet, Honey. Normally in a situation like this they'd release you in a day or two, but you got here and had your surgery so late in the day that they might want you to stay until the day after tomorrow. I promise as soon as they let me, I'll take you home. As for everything else, that will take a little longer. You need to give yourself time to heal before you worry about any of that again." He told her.
"How much time?"
"I don't know yet." He replied, seeing the sad, dejected look on her face at the prospect of missing out on almost everything she liked to do, he opted for subject change of his own. "How are you doing? Do you feel ready to eat something, like, Jello or pudding maybe?"
She shook her head. "The thought of food in general makes me wanna hurl, honestly I'm just really tired…and sore…"
He sighed, then bent over her and kissed her forehead. "You need some rest, go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere until you do…"
On the way to Evina's martial Arts school, Tara made several attempts to get in touch with her teacher, but there was no answer. She was starting to worry that the dojo had closed for the night but the lights were still on when she pulled up.
"Hello?" She called out as she entered.
Out of nowhere a set of sliding rice paper screens she hadn't realized were doors, were pushed open. There stood a short, bald man of Asian descent who appeared to be in his late fifties. He wore the traditional white robes worn my martial artists, the shirt tied at his waist by a black sash.
"My name is Dr. Tara Lewis. I'm looking for Master Wu Yi…" She told him.
"You've found him." The man replied. "Come on in…" He beckoned.
Master Yi led her to a small, ten by fifteen-foot office, which was painted a pale burnt yellow and crowded with tightly packed clutter. Everywhere Tara looked there were shelves packed with books, trophies, and framed photos of the students he'd trained over the years.
"I was afraid the school had closed for the night. I tried to call ahead but there was no answer." Tara told him.
"Sorry about that. My last class of the night starts at seven PM, but my daughter, who also serves as the secretary here, goes home every night at five o'clock. Now, may I ask what this is about?" He asked.
"I'm here regarding a student of yours, Evina Reid. She was poisoned at a martial arts event she participated in almost a week ago, but it wasn't until this afternoon that she became sick from the poison and was hospitalized."
Upon receiving the news about Evina, Master Yi's eyes went wide. Tara noted that his carotid artery started pulsating, a sign that his heart was racing, and his eyes were darting in different directions.
"Someone, someone who also attended that event, tried to kill her. My team and I are trying to figure out why." She said.
At this he looked up and locked his gaze with hers. The look in his brown eyes was determined. He didn't even blink. "Tell me how I can help." He replied.
"How long as Evina been training with you?"
"She's been with this Dojo since she was four years old. My wife and my two eldest, my older daughter and my son, train the little ones. At twelve, if they're ready, they transition up into the intermediate and expert groups, those are the classes I teach."
"How much training does one of your classes entail?" Tara asked.
"All martial arts require daily practice, but students at this Dojo had scheduled group sessions with me three or one of the other teachers here for three hours every week. Evina's current class meets in the evenings at five PM every Tuesday and Thursday, and then every Saturday morning at ten AM. That particular week, the Expo took the place of Saturday's practice."
"How would you describe Evina, both as a person and a martial artist, based on what you've observed of her training?" Tara asked.
"Driven. That girl's tiny, but she's a hard worker. She trains more consistently than any other underage student I've ever trained, and she has the technical skills to show for it; but it's more than that. In tai chi, we don't use belts. Instead there are three main classifications, the eagle, the tiger, and the dragon. Within each classification there are three ranks, copper, silver, and gold. Advancing through those rankings isn't just about physical prowess or even skill, one must also understand the mindset that every tai chi master must operate in, and apply that in their approach to martial arts and life in general without even thinking about it. That takes a level of maturity most young people these days simply don't possess." He explained.
"But Evina does in your estimation." Tara guessed.
"She's the youngest person I've ever promoted to the level of golden tiger." He confirmed.
"Is there…maybe someone who might have been jealous of her because of that?"
"Not at this dojo, everyone here can see how hard she's worked for it, and she's too honorable to step on others. If she wants something, she just works harder and does everything she can to get it based on her own merit."
"What about someone from another dojo? I mean, that event brings together young martial artists from all over the tri-state area right?" she asked.
"The only one I can think of is Nathan Mitchel. He's from another dojo, somewhere in Maryland I believe. Since Evina started competing in formal events, there's always been a rather unfriendly, and mostly one-sided rivalry between them. It's never made any sense to me because he's three years older than she is, so they've never been in the same age bracket. On top of that, he doesn't even practice tai chi. He's a student of Northern Shaolin Kung Fu, which is almost as far away from tai chi in terms of style and philosophy as it's possible to get. Both styles have nine ranked levels, but in terms of how they're graded and what they have to do to advance, it's just not comparable, and yet, he's spent every year since they met at Evina's first event, trying to out do her somehow."
"How did Evina react to that?" Tara asked.
"She pretty much just ignored it." He answered.
"Thank you, you've been very helpful. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please don't hesitate to call." Tara replied, handing him one of her business cards.
When she got back out to the dimly-lit parking lot, Lewis called Garcia.
"Good Evening, Superwoman, talk to me…" Garcia said.
"There's a name I need you to check out for me. There was a sixteen-year-old boy named Nathan Mitchel, who also competed at the expo and according to the master of Evina's dojo, there was some kind of weird, one sided rivalry between them. See what you can dig up on his family." She replied as she got back in the SUV.
She could hear Garcia typing away at her keyboard on the other end.
"Ok, here's what I've got for you on this Nathan Mitchel kid. He lives in Orlando with his dad, there's no mom in the picture. He's been kicked out of three different parochial schools since first grade, all for bullying. In third grade, he chased a female classmate during gym class and beat her with a plastic hockey stick. Then in fifth grade, he pulled the wig off of his cancer-stricken teacher's head in front of everybody and she was so humiliated that she quit her job later that day; and finally, last year, he cyber bullied a kid so badly that he hung himself…"
"So this kid clearly doesn't play well with others…"
"Not at all…"
"What about his father? Anything stand out there?"
"That would be fifty-three-year-old Jonathan Mitchel. He…is an attorney…a federal prosecutor to be exact and…ok wow…this is weird…"
"What's weird Penelope…"
"This guy doesn't exist anywhere before 2018… actually neither does Nathan, it's like the two of them just appeared one day out of thin air…"