Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1) (23 page)

Straus had thought of nearly everything to include into his Plan B to ensure his safety and protection. The one thing Straus had not planned for was the battery of his iPad running low. He kept a car charger adapter in his BMW that was concealed in one bay of the loading docks two floors below him. If the iPad’s battery died, Straus decided a trip to the loading dock might also give him the opportunity to drive to a nearby hotel, for a shower and to “borrow” a pillow, another missing item from his plan.

“I have no idea how you got into my office, but I do suggest that you leave immediately.” Brian Lucietta was certainly startled when he walked into his office, turned on the overhead lights, and felt the hard shove that sent him sprawling onto the floor. But Brian didn’t believe in staying startled long. He quickly found his footing, and when he realized that he had no clean path to get out of his office, he stood to confront his unwelcomed guest.
 

“I will give you five seconds to turn around and walk out of my office before I take action.”

“And what action are you prepared to take?” his guest asked.

“Three, two...”

Brian’s countdown, though short, was made even shorted when he felt the probes dig into his body. He had only enough time to look up in terror before those two small, shiny barbs released an eruption of pain.

The electricity seized his muscles together in a tight, contracted, and painful way. His brain was scrambled with electrical impulses.
 
As he fell to the floor, Brian felt his jaw tightening, clenching, and grinding his teeth together. Had he expected his jaw to clamp shut so tightly, he would have been certain to move his tongue back and away from the crushing power of his teeth. But he had no warning.

The contractions lasted only three seconds, and when they stopped, his pain evaporated. But not the pain of his severed tongue. He felt blood pouring from his tongue, into his mouth, and flowing down his throat. He coughed to move the blood from his airway and out of his mouth. Along with a disturbing amount of blood, his cough also caused a two-inch long strip of his tongue to launch from its home. Brian watched it land inches from the boots standing a few feet from his prone position.

“This is a remarkably effective tool,” his guest said. “I was pleasantly surprised to find it in your top desk drawer. Remarkably effective. And in case you were worried, I had the foresight to wear rubber gloves, in case the electricity travels through the handle.”

As Brian tried to stand, he heard the popping of the current again. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed the popping when the first jolt of electricity was delivered and hoped that he would never have to hear it again.

Three seconds of searing, contracting, exhausting pain, then, nothing. Complete absence of pain. He felt his body soaked with sweat and could feel the blood still pouring from within his mouth. He raised his head and locked eyes with his attacker.

“Peeez, wha u wan?” he mumbled; his tongue screaming for no movement.

“I am sorry, Doctor Lucietta, but it seems that you are very poor at speaking with a shortened tongue. Please, try it again. I will listen more closely.”

“Wha u ewe wan rom e?”

“Sounds like you are asking about my intentions? Nod if I heard you correctly.”

Brian nodded his head as more blood was sprayed into the air by a painful cough.

“Fair question,” his attacker said. “All I want to know is where I will find William Straus?”

Brian raised his hand and pointed to a picture hanging on the far wall of his office.

“Here?” his attacker asked. “I will find him here?”

Brian nodded then heard the popping sound again.

When the current stopped, Brian’s body was convulsing. His legs and arms were uncomfortable, but the pain in his chest was what Brian was most concerned with.
 

“I’ve never used one of these Tasers.
 
I had no idea that a cartridge was needed in order to deliver the voltage,” Brian’s attacker said. “I must commend you for your forward thinking. Having a cache of additional cartridges hidden in your bottom drawer: Brilliant.”

His attacker popped in another cartridge, squeezed the Taser’s trigger, and sent another round of shock treatment into the body of Doctor Lucietta. Without pause, he slammed in another cartridge, squeezed the trigger again but heard no report of the popping noises that signaled a passing current.

“Three successive doses,” the attacker said. “Your Taser is good for three doses. Not that you will need to know that information, but it is a good bit to have.”
 

Brian was unable to move. Though the only pain he was feeling was his severed tongue and the fading discomfort in his chest, his muscles were spent. He saw that his attacker had moved across the office and was carefully inspecting the photograph that contained the location that William Straus would be found. He knew this was his chance. He knew he had to reach the door and the safety that the hallway just beyond his office door would provide.

Brian summoned every last bit of his energy and forced himself onto all fours. His arms screamed and shook violently as he demanded that they pull him towards the door. His legs offered no assistance to his arms and were nothing but dead weight needing to be dragged across the office floor. His eyesight was spinning and his thoughts, muddled. But he felt himself moving. Moving towards the door and to safety. His closed one eye to better keep to his course.

His senses were muted except for his smell. As he struggled to reach safety, Brian’s stomach turned at the foul smell that was filling his nostrils.
 

Though he couldn’t be certain, he believed he has no more than four feet from the door. Four more feet before he could spill himself onto the hallway floor where someone would certainly see him and call for help.

His body was sending random signals to his brain so Brian wasn’t sure if the sharp, stabbing pain he felt when he was two feet from the door was something new or just his muscles continued reaction to the stun gun.

But when he saw the blood flowing down his arms and onto the floor, Brian knew that the pain in his neck wasn’t a side effect. The next thing he felt was a continuation of this new pain. But this continuation was deeper. Slowly reaching through his neck, into his throat and then, the long, thin knife finished its journey.

His arms went numb as they folded beneath his weight. He could feel nothing; no pain, no twitches, no blood running its way down his body.

“I made it,”
he thought as his eyes clouded over, and he felt a shallowness in his chest.

“Thank you for the information,” he heard his unwelcomed guest say as if speaking from deep inside a tunnel. “Good night, Doctor, and, again, thank you.”

Derek’s departure was sudden. No more than five minutes after his call with Ken O’Connell ended, Captain Smith gave Derek his clear expectations then made sure Derek’s car started and headed away from Piseco Lake New York.

When Derek was no further than three miles away from the lodge, he pulled his car over to the side of State Route 8, pulled out his cell phone from his pocket, and redialed the last number called.

“Ken O’Connell.”

“Ken, it’s Derek Cole.”

“Problem?”

“Unfortunately, there is, and the problem is yours,” Derek said. “The last conversation we had was not as private as you would have liked.”

Derek explained the circumstances of their last call. He explained that Ralph Fox and Captain Jared Smith from the state police heard that Ken was not in the Bahamas but was in Chicago, the same city where two murders had just taken place.
 

Ken was silent as Derek explained that while he could have refused to make the call in front of others, learning that Ken hadn’t made the flight to the Bahamas made him very suspicious. Ken O’Connell said nothing when Derek explained what he had found beneath the bedroom of Alexander Black and how it seemed highly likely that Alexander had an accomplice. Derek tried to describe what he’d seen on the trail, marked with freshly painted hearts and stocked with supplies. He explained how the timeline of the murders in Chicago demanded that Alexander had either learned how drive and to steal a car (though no cars were reported as being stolen in the area) or Alexander was given a ride.

“You’ve seen the pictures of him,” Derek said. “The chances that anyone would have pulled over and picked him up if he were hitchhiking are highly unlikely.”

Derek shared his thoughts that Straus may be the accomplice and told Ken why he suspected Straus. He also told Ken that while he thought it was careless and suspicious that Ken never got on the plane and admitted that he learned the truth about Alexander Black, he still didn’t suspect Ken O’Connell had anything to do with the murders.

“You are my client, and I take my client relationships very seriously,” Derek said. “As soon as our last call ended, I knew I had to call you and let you know that the conversation was not a private one.”

“Derek,” Ken finally spoke, “I don’t blame you at all. I should have expected something when I noticed that you were speaking to me on your speaker phone. Doesn’t matter, though, I guess. I didn’t have anything to do with any murders or helping Alexander escape. As far as I’m concerned, I won’t do anything differently than what I was planning on doing, even though I will have to keep an eye out for police. I still need you to find Mix, Lucietta, and Straus, and I still want you to call me twice a day.

“Cole, I do appreciate you letting me know about our first call. And don’t worry about pissing me off. The fact that you called and let me know says more to me than you can imagine. Listen, I have a call scheduled in one hour with some of my other hired resources. If they have come up with anything, I’ll call you right away. In the meantime, what are your plans?”

“Honestly, I don’t know which way to head. I could drive out to Rochester and start trying to track down the Mixes, or I could head down to Manhattan and try to locate Lucietta. As far as Straus and Alexander goes, I have to believe they are in the Chicago area. If they are together or if Alexander is acting alone somehow, that means that they or he will be looking for you and your son.”

“Thomas is on a boat in the middle of Lake Michigan, along with three of my ‘special forces’ team members. I’m not worried about him,” Ken calmly said.

“Special Forces?” Derek asked.

“Cole, I have been fortunate in my business dealings. I started with a used car lot on the south side of Chicago when I was nineteen years old. I turned fifty last year and opened my eighteenth car dealership the day after my birthday. I’ve also branched out to a few other endeavors, all of which are profitable. I will tell you this, Cole, everything I do is above board. Nothing illegal. At the same time, my success in business has made me a target on more than one occasion. I told you that I have many resources, including some ex-military professionals who handle personal security for me and my family. Nature of the game, I suppose, but considering what’s happening now, I am damn glad I have my special forces team on payroll.”

“If Thomas is out on Lake Michigan, how is that I’ve been able to contact whenever I needed to?”

“Each morning and evening, the boat moves close enough to shore to pick up a cell signal. My team knows exactly what they are doing, when to do it, and how to do it.”

“Wish I had a team like that sometimes,” Derek joked.

“As long as you are working for me on this case, my resources are at your disposal. In fact, I have two private investigators assisting in your efforts. One is getting close to finding Stanley and Michelle Mix, and the other is busy locating Straus. I don’t have anyone looking for Alexander, however. I figured that he’d either show up or the police would be focusing their efforts on finding him.

“Listen, Cole, I do appreciate you being honest with me, and I need you to know that I am being honest with you. If you think that I am somehow behind these murders, you need to tell me right now. I can’t trust someone that doesn’t trust me.”

“I think we are on the same page,” Derek said.

“I need you to
know
, not to just
think.
”

“I can’t tell you that I am without my suspicions yet. There’s too many variables and coincidences to rule out anyone. Hell, I even wonder if I had somehow had something to do with these murders.”

“I guess that’s fair enough. I have to run. That call is coming in soon, and I have some other matters to attend to. I’ll call you if my resources come up with anything important. If you don’t hear from me, call me at 8:00 tonight. Agreed?”