Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set (55 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Jake glanced at his watch. He was running late to meet Kelly. 
Shit.
 Why was he so easy to read? He couldn’t lie to her. She was so damn on top of it. It was one of the things he liked about her, but at this moment, her intellect wasn’t making things easy. She was involved now whether she knew it or not, and he’d have to find a way to protect her.

Well, he could just not tell her the truth. That was one idea. But then what 
would
 he tell her? And how would he convince her he wasn’t lying? Her bullshit meter was too sensitive for that. It was an impossible situation. There was one thing Jake knew for sure, though: the people behind all of this were bad. Really, really bad. What choice did he have? Kelly would be relentless until she got the truth out of him. He knew that. Hell, maybe he even needed her help. Letting her in might be a good thing. Maybe there was a way the two of them could work together, figure out exactly who these people were.

Figuring out what to do about it once they knew, however, would be another story entirely.

Jake picked up the picture of his daughter again and traced the outline of her face with his fingertip. “Oh Beth, what have I gotten myself into?” He remembered a time when his little girl had complete and total faith in him—trusted him implicitly. Daddy could do no wrong. But if she knew how much danger he had put her in, she’d hate him. No. He could not tell Kelly. He would have to think of something. Send her down a dead-end path.

He set the photo down, determined to come up with a story to pacify Kelly. He took his coat from the back of the chair and pulled it on. He walked across the hall to shut the lights off in the morgue. Ty had already gone home for the day. Jake glanced around the room to make sure everything was status quo and flipped the switch. “My briefcase,” he said out loud. He couldn’t forget that. His mind was not working the way it usually did. He was too consumed by the mess he was in. He had to find a way out of it. Get back on track. This place and this situation were going to eat him alive.

He had to find a way out.

He took another step back towards his office, totally unprepared for the blow to his head.

Jake hadn’t heard a thing, but now a warm sensation oozed down his back, the pain immense as he collapsed to the ground. A groan escaped his lips. His head smacked hard against the cold floor with a loud thud. He tried to pick himself up, only to collapse again. The pain grew more intense with each labored breath. His vision blurred. He knew the warm blood trickling from the back of his skull would soon run cold.

They knew. God damn it. They knew he’d talked.

Oh God, Kelly
.

His daughter!

He prayed someone would find him before he died. He had to get to her before they did. Impossible, though.

Footsteps along the floor, passing him. “Really fucking stupid. At least for your sake, we decided you are dispensable, my friend. If you weren’t, I’d be killing your kid right now. Lucky for her.”

Jake felt another sharp pang on one side of his neck that traveled in a deadly arc to the other. His throat had been cut. He attempted to bring his hands up to stop the bleeding. No chance.

He closed his eyes. An image of his daughter flashed through his mind.

Then nothing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kelly finished her Chardonnay and glanced around for any sign of Jake. She wasn’t a big drinker, but after his strange behavior, she’d had a feeling the wine might calm her nerves. He was fifteen minutes late, and her patience was running thin. A voice inside told her something was wrong, but she pushed the thought out of her mind and took another sip of the wine. She would give him ten more minutes. She’d called his cell phone twice already, but it’d gone straight to voicemail. Jake almost always picked up so either his battery died or…something else had happened.

She thought about their discussion earlier. He was a straight shooter—not evasive and not one to play games. But this felt like a game to her, and she didn’t like it at all. She would’ve never left the hospital to meet him for dinner if she’d known he was going to blow her off. It was so unlike him. And because it was so unlike him, she knew something was wrong. The sinking feeling in her stomach worsened. Five more minutes ticked away, and she decided to pay for the wine and head back to the hospital. Once in the car, she tried to reach Jake again by cell phone. She drove by his house, only a few minutes from the hospital. No lights were on and his car wasn’t in the driveway. Good. Maybe he was still at work, and he could explain what was going on. She wasn’t leaving until he told her everything. Whatever 
everything
 was.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot and scanned it before getting out of her car. Her days at USC had taught her one could never be too careful. Walking toward the building, she noticed several police cars out front. Must’ve been another gang-related shooting or something.

There was a noticeable buzz filling the halls. Something was out of whack. She spotted another policeman by the elevator. Kelly stopped a passing intern who was reading over a report on his clipboard. “Hey. What’s going on? Something major happening in the ER?”

He studied her for a second, clearly trying to decide whether or not she was entitled to know. She flashed her credentials from the chain around her neck. His eyes widened. “Oh sorry, Doctor. I didn’t realize you were staff.” She nodded. “No. It’s not in the ER. I don’t know exactly what’s up, but rumor has it there was a murder downstairs.”

“What? Downstairs as in the morgue?”

“Yes.”

Kelly’s breathing changed, her body tensed. “Who?”

He shrugged and looked back down at his clipboard. “Sorry, I don’t know. I have a patient waiting.”

“Yeah, sure.” Her racing thoughts took a giant turn for the worse. She tried hard to push them away, but they wouldn’t budge.

She headed toward the elevator. Before she could ask the officer what was going on, the doors opened. A man with dark hair and piercing brown eyes stepped out. He glanced at Kelly, straightening his navy and teal striped tie against his button down.

“Excuse me, officer...” she said.

He looked at her. “Yes?”

“I’m a doctor here on staff.” She showed him her ID. “Could you tell me what has happened?”

“Dr. Morales.”

“Yes,” she said.

“You’re exactly who I’ve been looking for.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kelly was now following the man toward a private room to talk. Following the 
detective
. Tony Pazzini. Her heart raced and every nerve pumped adrenaline. He still hadn’t told her anything other than he needed to speak with her in private. However, her gut told her what was coming.

This was about Jake. It had to be.

As they headed down the hall, they passed an orderly who dropped a handful of charts. Kelly bent down to help pick them up. The detective grabbed her arm. “I think he can handle that.”

“I was only trying to help.”

He touched her shoulder. “I understand but what we need to discuss is important.”

She turned to him, arms crossed. “I’m not going any further until I know what this is about.” She needed to know. She needed to hear it.

“Look, I just need to ask you some questions. I’d like to do it in private.”

Anger, fear, and confusion stirred a vicious brew inside her. Kelly was terrified of what he was about to tell her. She nodded.

“Follow me.”

Once inside the doctor’s lounge, she turned and faced him, crossing her arms. “Okay. Now can you tell me what is going on?”

“Did you have an appointment with Dr. Jake Hamilton this evening?”

“I did. We were supposed to have dinner together.”

“He didn’t show up,” the detective stated.

Kelly closed her eyes for a second. “No. I was on my way downstairs to see him when you came off the elevator.” Beads of perspiration formed on her top lip.

“I am sorry, but Dr. Hamilton was found murdered about an hour ago.”

Blood drained from her face as her stomach twisted into a knot that made her want to vomit, leaving a sour burn in the back of her throat. Her hands shook, and a cold descended upon her, chilling her whole body. The detective reached out and took her elbow as she collapsed onto the yellow sofa. She put her face in her palms, too stunned to cry. Too stunned to think.

Only one thought came to mind: 
She was the reason Jake was dead.

She knew this with the most painful certainty.

The detective poured her a glass of water. “Do you think you can answer a few more questions for me?” he asked. “I’m sorry to do this now, but it’s necessary.”

She nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Okay. Thank you. So, you planned to meet with Dr. Hamilton this evening?”

“I did.” She was tearing up again.

“What time was he supposed to meet you?”

“Seven-thirty,” she answered, barely audible.

“Where?” He jotted a note down on his pocket pad.

“Tuscany’s.”

“Was this a date?”

“No. Dr. Hamilton and I were friends.” Her gaze fell to the ground. She didn’t want him to know she had considered the possibility of being more, but now…

“So you were not romantically involved with Dr. Hamilton?”

She hesitated. “No. I just told you it wasn’t a date.”  She took a sip of her water and ran her fingers through her light brown hair. He gave her a weak smile. “We planned to meet for dinner because we needed to discuss some patient cases we were working on.”

“A dinner date to discuss business then?” He’d obviously decided to ignore the edge in her answer.

“Yes. Some patients, as I said.”

“Did you plan on going home with him?”

She frowned. “No. That actually had not crossed my mind, Detective.” Heat was rising in her face.

“Were you, um…were you intimately involved with Dr. Hamilton?”

She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “I am not that kind of woman, and I don’t see the relevance to that sort of questioning. I told you, he was a colleague and a friend.”

“I’m working a murder case. Everything is relevant. I don’t judge what kind of woman you are, Doctor. Honestly. I am only trying to establish facts. Friends and colleagues can mean one thing to one person and a something else to another.”

“What are you, a detective or a relationship expert?”

This got a slight laugh out of him. “Well, actually, in my line of business you become a little bit of everything, I guess.”

She frowned. “I still don’t understand your questions.”

He paused for a second. “I’m gonna lay it on the line.”

“I wish you would.”

“When I have a murder case, I have to flesh everything out. I’m sure you can appreciate that. And the thing is, I can’t discount anything. Many times these cases wind up being crimes of passion or at least the victim knew the assailant.”

She crossed her arms, the frown on her face deepening. “Wait a minute, are you suggesting I murdered Jake?” She let out a soft cry. “Oh my God! As I said our relationship was one of mutual respect. I liked him. I liked him a lot.” The tears welled in her eyes again. ”He was an excellent doctor and a decent man. He was also my friend.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and tried hard to contain her emotion. “We were not intimate. We’ve never been. I don’t know where things were headed, Detective. But what I can tell you is there is no way in hell I killed Jake.” She shook her head vehemently.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I offended you. I am only doing my job. What do you say we get back to the questions and I can let you go home?”

“Fine. Ask away.”

“Where were you between seven-fifteen and eight-fifteen this evening?”

“I left the hospital, drove to the restaurant, and waited there for Jake. When he didn’t show up, I came back here. I think you know the rest.” She stated it matter-of-factly and wiped the last of her tears away.

“Can someone verify they saw you at the restaurant?”

“I assume so. A hostess seated me. A waiter waited on me.”

“Okay, good.”

“Are we finished? I would really like to go home now.”

“Yes. I’ll probably need to speak to you again. Some time tomorrow. I may have more questions.”

“I will be here.” She left, holding back more tears and convinced she had in some way caused her friend’s death.

CHAPTER NINE

Redding sat back in the plush leather seat inside the chartered jet, waiting for take off. He swirled the ice around in his scotch and soda. He was headed back home, his work done in Germany. Hopefully. Something worried him about Horner though. He couldn’t put a finger on it. Other than the chemist still hadn’t produced what they wanted. They were on a timeline. Next year was an election year and it was vital to stay on schedule. Would Horner be able to get the job done? Redding sensed the guy was struggling. Maybe losing it. Peter sighed heavily. There were always going to be problems with a project like this. It was staying on top of the problems that mattered. Staying organized.

He remembered his father—George Redding. The Reddings had adopted him when he was three and George had loved him and been an amazing teacher. He was the one who had explained the order of things. “You have to keep your soldiers in line, Petie. When fighting a war—and trust me, we are fighting a war—you have your minions down on the bottom. Now they may not seem all that important. But they are. They’re like fleas—they can be disposed of and most easily replaced within the ranks. But the problem is, they can also be broken down the easiest by the enemy. They will almost always talk when push comes to shove, so it’s very important you have a solid foundation.

“Next are your henchmen. These guys recruit the minions. Minions do little jobs. You can control their minds. Henchmen do more difficult jobs. They have to be discrete, trustworthy. Then there are the helpers. They are your confidantes and partners. Then there’s you—the leader, son. You are a leader.”

Peter took a sip from his drink. “Yes, Dad, I am,” he muttered.  His cell phone rang. It was a henchman calling. A 
very
 important henchman with very important connections. Connections who put a lot of money into Frauen Pharmaceuticals and Peter’s back pocket.

“Our little problem taken care of?” Peter asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He leaned back in his leather chair and sighed. “And the girlfriend?”

“I don’t think she knows any more than what we heard, but we can’t be too sure.”

“No, we can’t. No loose ends. I want to know her every move.”

“Anything else, sir?”

“No. Money will be wired to your account. Good work.”

“Thank you, sir. Good night.”

Peter hung up the phone. The jet engine roared down the runway. Hamilton. The good doctor. A minion. Not one who believed in the cause, though. A minion by force, just like Horner. There were only a few of those who Peter kept a close eye on. They could ruin everything he’d worked so hard for. Everything his dad would have been so proud of. Men like Hamilton and Horner scared him, but he needed them—or guys like them. Hamilton was easy to dispose of. Dumb fuck should’ve realized his office would be wired. Horner was another story. Once the job was finished on the chemist’s end, Peter would feel much better when they’d gotten rid of him.

He took another long sip of his drink. He didn’t like setbacks and these bumps in the road were definitely setbacks. This Dr. Morales better not be a problem. He didn’t want to have her killed, too. He didn’t need a body count adding up. Body counts alerted cops and cops sniffing around anything was never good. The Hamilton case would never be solved. The henchman who had taken care of the doctor was good at taking care of problems. He’d proven it when he had been involved with the Petersen fiasco. The young man had orchestrated the whole thing. A job well done.

But God how Redding had hated all of that bad business, however, he’d soon realized when Andrew Petersen had blown him off, he would need to make a strong and definite impression on his next victim—Dr. Horner. Yes, the young man had done a nice job there, and now with Hamilton taken care of, he’d once again proven he had the stamina to get things done. Best of all, Chad Wentworth had connections…nice political connections. And to think Chad had been discovered guarding the double doors outside The Brotherhood meeting in Valencia only four years ago. He had come a long way.

“So fuck it,” he said aloud. “Fuck it! This little setback is good for the character.” However, Redding knew any setback—minor or major—was not good for this project. Peter hated problems and loose ends. Hopefully Dr. Morales would keep her nose out of things. She would be much better off that way. The lights flickered from the city below, growing more distant as the plane reached cruising altitude. The alcohol began to ease tension from his shoulders and his mind. But he couldn’t relax completely. He knew too many casualties would quickly alert the calvary, and the goddamn calvary was not invited to this war, because Peter Redding was determined to win.