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“No.”
“What do you know about him?”
“O-only rumors. He s-smuggles people and drugs for m-money.”
Hunter leaned across the table and touched her arm. “Are you sick? You’re burning up.” She looked at Andre. “She needs a doctor.”
Andre stood just as Molita’s eyes rolled up, showing the whites, and she convulsed. The chair fell to the side and the Haitian woman hit the floor hard, her head jerking back and forth and her legs and arms flailing and drumming on the concrete.
Hunter said, “Is she epileptic?”
Andre said, “I don’t know.”
They moved the chair and table so the woman wouldn’t hurt herself, then Andre went out the door for help.
Hunter knelt by the woman, “Molita, you’re safe. Can you hear me? You’re safe. Don’t be afraid.” She wasn’t sure if the woman heard her or not, but she felt she had to do something. She moved closer and touched Molita’s shoulder, and the Haitian woman’s head turned toward her. Her eyes rolled down into focus and locked with Hunter, like a drowning person’s eyes when they look at a rescuer before they go under the last time, just out of reach. Her mouth opened and she tried to talk. Hunter turned her ear to the woman and leaned closer.
A gout of red vomit hit Hunter on the side of the head, going in her ear, hair, down her neck and under the shirt collar. Hunter jerked away and threw up. She dry-heaved a few times, then gained control.
Molita was dead that quick, lying in the filth, looking deflated somehow, smaller than she was just moments before.
Andre came in with the center physician and two nurses. All three stopped in their tracks. Andre went to Hunter, “What happened?”
Hunter was still trying to clean her face of the foul-smelling substance on her skin. “Her eyes came into focus and she wanted to say something to me, so I leaned down. She threw up. She only vomited once, then died. No labored breathing, nothing. Just died.”
Andre said, “You didn’t get any in your eyes or mouth, did you?”
“No, why?”
The physician, a Haitian, handed her several sterile pads to wipe off her face and said, “I believe she was poisoned.” He motioned for a nurse and said, “Take Agent Kincaid to the clinic and make sure she is sanitized where the blood contacted her skin.” He turned to Hunter, “You will have to discard the contaminated clothing, too. We have some scrubs you can wear in the meantime.”
Hunter said to Andre, “Did you guess she was poisoned, too?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of poison does that?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve heard of it a few times, back when I lived in Port-Au-Prince.”
“A few times?”
“Vomiting bright red blood. That’s associated with Haitian black magic, Hunter.”
The Doctor said, “He is right.”
Andre said, “We’re dealing with some very bad people. Go with the nurse and get checked out. I’ll be down to the clinic in a few minutes.” Hunter nodded, looked again at Molita, and then left with the nurse. She glanced back once and saw the Doctor and Andre in an intense discussion.
Hunter was dressed in green scrubs and held a white plastic bag with her pistol, gun belt, money and keys inside when Andre entered. He said, “They look comfortable. You ready to go?”
“You bet.”
Andre drove again, and he said, “Doctor Levant said he would call us with the preliminary results.”
“He’s doing it?”
“The basic tests. The FBI is going to run more complete tests. We’ll get those results, too, when they finish.” He glanced at Hunter, “Are you doing okay? I can take you to your hotel.”
“Take me there so I can put on some different clothes, but I’m fine. Let’s find this sucker.”
