The Trade (A Hans Larsson Novel Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

grabbed her hand . . . but the safety line .
. . It was clipped to the bunk . . . ‘You always gotta clip on your safety
line, Bear,’ she used to say. But I never thought she’d clip on inside the
cabin.”
    “Hans, you weren’t to know. How could you?”
    “I thought she was in the life raft with me. I could see she
wasn’t herself, but I thought she was in the raft.”
    Hans reached for the bear. Penny passed it to him, and he
clutched it to his chest.
    “I thought you were with me, sweet pea.”
    He drifted into unconsciousness.

- 10 -
    D r. Simon Preece, Boston’s leading
trauma specialist, removed his glasses and slid them into the breast pocket of
his immaculate white coat.
    “He’s been through a
lot, Penny. Way beyond what a person should ever have to take, to be truthful.
Another day or two at sea, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
    Sitting on a green leather chesterfield in the doctor’s spacious
office, a room that could easily have passed for an executive suite at the nearby
Ritz-Carlton, Penny wished they weren’t having this conversation.
    “I’m sorry. I haven’t offered you a drink.” Preece stood up.
“Tea, coffee, soda – or perhaps something stronger?”
    “Oh!”
    The doctor smiled. “I’m not a big believer in drinking tea
at a time like this.”
    “A beer perhaps,” Penny tendered, feeling it couldn’t have come
at a better time.
    “Of course.”
    Preece walked over to an oak panel and pulled it open to
reveal a well-stocked refrigerator. He took out a Budweiser for Penny and a
Perrier for himself.
    “Glass?”
    “No, no. It’s fine.” Penny cracked the tab on the can.
    Preece winked – which would have seemed odd from any other
doctor – and eased into his sumptuous swivel chair, picking a stray fiber off
his pant leg and brushing down his lapels before continuing.
    “Hans has experienced what is known medically as brief psychotic
disorder, sometimes called reactive psychosis. It’s brought about by trauma and
extreme stress, such as the loss of a loved one or an accident or assault – basically,
an extremely disturbing event.”
    “Jeez,” Penny muttered, staring down at the expensive
Persian rug.
    “I’m sorry, Penny, is this too much? We can talk about it
later—”
    “No, no. It all makes sense. Hans’ wife and son were killed
last year, but he doesn’t talk about it.”
    Preece kept quiet. As a long-standing operative for the Concern,
he was well aware of the circumstances surrounding the horrific double murder.
    “And to witness Jessica drown . . .”
    The doctor pushed a box of Kleenex across the desktop. “And
then there’s the physical trauma. He took quite a thump to the face.”
    “So does this explain why he thought Jessica was in the life
raft all the time? Like his mind simply refused to accept the truth and blanked
it out?”
    “Not so much blanked it out, like denial, for example. It’s
more that his mind took on a parallel reality.”
    “Which would explain the delusions.”
    “The delusions, the hallucinations – but!” Preece widened
his eyes and beamed. “It’s called brief psychotic disorder for a reason,
and it would appear he’s over the worst of it and making a full recovery.”
    “And the infection?” Penny realized she had unknowingly
finished her beer and was crumpling the can.
    “The infection’s under control. With a little help from antibiotics,
the human body is a wonderful thing. But spending some time in the hyperbaric
chamber will speed his recovery – get a little oxygen into his tissues – and
some cosmetic surgery, a skin graft, wouldn’t go amiss, if he wants to retain
his good looks that is!”
    “I never thought the words ‘Hans,’ ‘Larsson,’ and ‘cosmetics’
would ever be in the same sentence, Doctor,” Penny joked, and they both
chuckled.
    “Another beer?”
    He needn’t have asked.

- 11 -
    “A re
you sure you want to do this?” Penny asked as the Learjet came in to