Remember Me (49 page)

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Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater

BOOK: Remember Me
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Spitting blood from his mouth, Zeke struggled to his knees and held one hand up in surrender.
“I know I had that coming, and I'm cool with that, but please listen to me, PLEASE!”

You better do some mighty fancy talking then, you piece of shit.” he growled.
“Look, if you kill me, I can't help you, and with those two psycho fucks on the loose, you'll need all the help you can get, believe me. Those are the best odds you're going to see for
a while
, and if I were you, I would take them.”
“Help me? You've GOT to be fucking kidding me! The only way you can help me is to die slowly and painfully while I beat the hell out of you.” Granger snorted, then reached down and snatched him to his feet by his shirt collar.
“Shit!!” was all Zeke managed to mutter as the man's fist crashed into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Staggering back against the wall, he clutched his stomach with one hand and held the other out in a warding-off gesture. “Mr. Mortensen...you can....punch me silly....but I'm...not going to fight you....I want .....to help you.” he gasped.
“Shut up, and take your medicine like a man!” was his only reply.
“LISTEN!” Zeke gasped in desperation as he slowly got his breath back. “I've been... calling Martina's cell phone, but I assume she's dumped it already. But I know her and that sick fucking cousin of hers like the back of my hand! And I know the twisted bitch will be calling any time now, wanting to know why Cassandra and your son aren't dead yet.” Reaching into his jacket pocket slowly and carefully, he withdrew several documents. “There's some real estate, used to belong to their grandmother before she died, you should check it out. My guess is they both are laying low at one of those locations.”
“Just tell me, why? Why do you want to help me, and why should I trust you?”
“Let's just say that meeting your wife gave me the first moment of pause I've had in my miserable life, ever since my mother was murdered. There are still good people left in this world, and while I may not be one of them, I’d like to try to re-write history for myself, if it's not too late.”
Hesitantly, Granger accepted the documents and gave them a quick glance. “Just so you know....” he said as he glanced at the man once again with murder in his eyes, “If you double cross me, or one hair on my wife or son's head is harmed, I swear to God you'll wish you had turned yourself in to the police.”
Rubbing his sore jaw gingerly, Zeke simply nodded, then watched as the enraged man turned and left. “If they were my family, I would have killed the man who was hired to take them out, you're a better man than me, Mortensen.” he muttered.
                                     
****************************
                                                   The Santo's cottage
Benito looked over the garden that Karen had transformed into a beautiful sanctuary. Surrounding the terrace they enjoyed sitting on, were pink and white Camellia evergreen shrubs, purple Periwinkle ground cover, and deep purple, red and white Crape Myrtle trees, all planted by her loving hand. Taking a seat at the stone table, he waited for the African American female and private investigator to arrive. Earlier, he had arranged for one of the staff to take Karen into town to do some shopping for the baby's room.
“Doctor Santo?” his housekeeper, Luisa, announced, speaking perfect English, “The Americans are here for your meeting.”
Rising to his feet, he put on his best smile and greeted them, but in his heart, he dreaded the meeting. “Welcome to my home.” he said, then offered them both a seat without shaking hands. “If you don't mind, I would like to wrap up this, uhhh, meeting as quickly as possible.”
Cynne' could see the tension on the man's tanned face, and looking at him more closely, she thought he bore a strong resemblance, albeit an older one, to Esai Morales, the actor who had starred on NYPD Blue.
Placing a tray loaded with coffee, tea, cucumber sandwiches, and caramel coffee cakes on the table, the housekeeper gave them a perfunctory smile, then disappeared quietly inside the cottage.
Looking around, Cynne' frowned and asked, “Where is Ms. Washington?”
Bristling, Dr. Santo answered in an impatient voice. “My wife is out shopping. You have come here to find out about Brett Parker, no? You have seen the reaction my wife has at the mere mention of his name. It's more than she can bear, and I didn't want her here while we talk. Look, I know that you both may consider my silence, and my allowing him to bring your friend Cassandra here, unconscionable, but the only way I could protect my wife was to remain silent. I have no regrets or apologies for my actions.”
Pulling a tiny digital recorder from his jacket pocket, Raidon struggled to keep his temper in check. “How about you just start from the beginning, and go from there.” he replied in a neutral voice as he clicked the recording device on.
Benito began by telling them what they already knew, about the drug testing for The Department of Defense, and about the alleged abuse Brett had committed. He went on to explain about Doctor Garrison's concerns, and his attempts to clean the project up and have Brett either fired or imprisoned. Or both.
“Do you know what happened to Doctor Garrison? We know all about his disappearance.” Raidon asked in a quiet voice.
Silent for a moment, Benito seemed to be struggling to contain a long held, deep dark secret. Reaching for the tea pot, he poured himself a cup and sighed wearily.
“I can't prove this, but I believe Brett Parker killed him.” he finally answered in a soft voice.
“Karen, unlike me, was determined to prove he killed Doctor Garrison and the others. I tried to stop her, but she refused to give up.” he sighed, then shook his head as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

“Others?” Cynne' frowned. “Jesus, just how many people do you think he killed?”
“Our research facility was located near the University of Radford, and that fall, seven black females went missing, all of them between the ages of seventeen to thirty. But no bodies were ever found, and no evidence found to link Brett to the murders. Karen confronted him with her suspicions, against my advice. And while we all knew he had a thing for my then-future wife, it didn't help matters that she had rebuffed his advances months earlier, in front of several members of the staff. So I think he also secretly hated her.”
Cynne' poured some coffee for Raidon and herself, then asked, “Tell me, how long have you been in love with Karen?”
Finally relaxing, Benito allowed a soft smile as his thoughts drifted back to the first day he had met the fresh-faced beauty. “She joined the research team seven months after the program started. My part of the study was to administer psychology testing to determine the profiles of perfect candidates for the drug testing and hypnosis. Karen helped gather the data, and also did the physical exams. She was warm, beautiful, and intelligent, and I found myself falling hopelessly in love with her after just a few days of working together. She was something else, she still is! She's....”
“And I fell deeply and hopelessly in love with him as well.” a soft voice interrupted.
Turning, Raidon and Cynne' watched as Karen Washington approached the table.
Getting to his feet, Benito went to her and gathered her in his arms. “My love, why have you returned so quickly? Are you ill, has something happened?” he asked.
Smiling up at her husband, she reached up and cupped his face with her small, delicate hands. Ever since the events of the prior day, she knew he had been worrying himself sick about her, and their unborn child. But she also felt it was time, for all their sakes, to tell what they knew about Brett's deeds. “I knew we would have visitors, and that you didn't want them to upset me. We can no longer pretend that we can have a normal life while Brett Parker is a free man.”
Feeling his wife shiver, Benito hugged her even more closely, treating her with a gentleness and concern that was not lost on Raidon or Cynne'.
Feeling like they were intruding on a very intimate moment, Cynne' couldn't help but watch as the woman leaned into her husband's arms, looking to her like a delicate and fragile doll a person would collect, but never touch. She also wondered if she had always been that way, or had changed after meeting Brett. She could understand why any man would fall in love with her, she was a lovely woman, and a rare, gentle kindness radiated from her face.
“You should go inside, my love, I'll talk to them and tell them what they want to know. I don't want you worried or upset.” Benito said softly, belatedly wishing he had arranged to
meet Raidon and Cynne' at the hotel. But much to his surprise, she slipped from his arms, went directly to the table, then sat down.
“Benito, please, sit. I have to face this.” she pleaded, then watched in silence as he seated himself again.
“I must apologize for yesterday, Mrs. Santo, we never meant to upset or frighten you.” Raidon said.
“He's right, all we wanted to do was help our friend Cassandra.” Cynne' agreed, giving the woman a warm smile.
Placing one delicate hand on top of her husband's, Karen turned to face them both. “It's alright, I reacted so strongly because I thought you were connected to Brett. He's sent others, before.”
Clearing his throat, Raidon hoped his next words wouldn't upset the woman, “What did Brett do to you?”
Suddenly her eyes took on a haunted look, and she stared off into space, as if mesmerized. “I foolishly told Brett I believed he was behind the women's disappearances, and that he was the only one who could have possibly wanted to hurt Doctor Garrison. Everyone else loved him. Doctor Garrison, I mean. He was a gentle, kind, considerate man. As far as me, well, I didn't know he was secretly drugging me with small doses at first, my guess is he was slipping the stuff into the lunches I packed for work
every day
. Well, he may have gotten impatient and upped the dosage on me one day, because I had a particularly bad psychotic episode. All I remember was the power going out, and someone grabbing me in the dark, right in the middle of my fit. The next thing I knew, I woke up in some old, dilapidated hospital, strapped to a bed, completely naked.” her voice broke as tears slowly found their way down her cheeks.
Giving her hand a reassuring pat, Benito reluctantly picked up where his wife had left off. “At the time, I was away in Washington D.C. on business, I had been summoned there to brief some Pentagon bigwigs on the status of the project. When I returned to the research facility, it was utter chaos. I learned that not only had our project been shut down, but that Karen had disappeared as well. I knew without a doubt Brett was behind her disappearance, but I had no proof to take to the police. I confronted him, but naturally, he denied everything. Shortly thereafter I broke into his home, which was near the lab, and found proof he was using the drugs we created on women, and sexually assaulting them.
The sick bastard had even recorded it.
I took some of the tapes and photos, approached him, and told him I would hand them over to the authorities if he didn't take me to Karen.”
Wanting details to give to the FBI, Raidon addressed Karen reluctantly. “What did he do to you? Were there any traces of the other women where he took you?”
Karen glanced at Cynne', her eyes appealing to her. “I try not to remember the things he
did, they were so....” she shuddered, unable to continue.
“You don't have to say it, we understand.” Cynne' replied. Glancing at Raidon, then back to the woman, she continued. “Sometimes it's easier to just forget. I know some say it's better to face and address your trauma, but I believe sometimes a person has to try and forget. Only when you're ready to face the pain can you truly heal.”
Is she speaking from experience?
Raidon wondered as he glanced at his companion in silence.
“When I found out he was the one responsible, I wanted to kill Brett, but he swore that if I went to the authorities, or he ended up dead, he had a family contact, a former police officer turned professional hit man, who would hunt Karen down and murder her. I believed him, and you would have too, if you had heard the sound of his voice and seen the look in his eyes. I couldn't let my beloved Karen come to any more harm, so I made a deal with the Devil. My silence, in return for Karen's release into my care.” Benito said in a choked voice, then lifted his wife's hand to his lips.
“Benito, it's Ok, I'm fine, I'm here with you, and that's what's important.” Karen said in a soft voice.
Wiping his eyes, he relinquished her hand and stood, then went inside the cottage. Several minutes later he reemerged and placed a small, open cardboard box on top of the table. “This is some of the stuff I found in his house, when I broke in, I trust you'll know what to do with it. My wife is right, it's time to put an end to this madness, one way or the other.”
Looking at Karen, Cynne' asked, “What about your family?”
Looking at her husband, she stood, and replied in a soft voice, "I was never really close to my family, but if anyone wishes to contact me, or see me, they will have to come here.
This is where I belong, with my husband.”
                      
****************************************
As he and Cynne' rode back to town in silence, Raidon reflected on the fact he wasn't eager to see the tapes Benito had given them, but knew it would be a necessary evil if they ever hoped to find out how many unfortunate women had fallen prey to the sadistic sociopath known as Brett Parker. Since their flight home was already booked and he had just finished briefing Malcolm, he decided they needed to take a break. “Cynne, what do you say we go sightseeing, and find a nice restaurant? I really need to forget about that psycho for a bit.”
“Sure, it's making me sick to my stomach as well.” she replied in a weary voice.
                       
****************************************
From a discreet vantage point in a parked rental van, Brett brought the binoculars up and looked at the hotel parking lot for the hundredth time. It was impossible, he decided, for him to get near Cassandra, with all the state police who were positioned strategically around the building, not to mention the private security Granger had hired to protect her. “It can't be done, not without a small army!” he fumed in a low voice. “Whatever I do, I'll have to do it quick. Once that bastard gets her back on that estate, the place will be battened down like a Goddamn medieval fortress.”
Seeing movement from the main entrance, he perked up suddenly as he saw Granger strolling out the main entrance, dressed in jogging attire, and alone. Formulating a quick plan, he grinned as he watched the man walk to a grassy area and begin what looked like a series of stretching exercises.
What does my lovely cousin see in him? She needs someone like me, not that whitewashed playboy...
he thought in bitter silence.
Several minutes passed, and excitement coursed through him as he saw the man finally finish his warm up exercises and take off running, alone. “So, pretty boy, you think you're so tough you require no protection? Just the arrogance I would expect from you.” he laughed, then started the van and pulled out, savoring the moment.
Should I kill him slowly? No, I want to take him apart bit by bit, listening to him scream and beg. I'll tape it so my darling Martina can see he's nothing but a weak punk!
He thought as he followed the man from a discreet distance.
                   
*******************************************
Running fast and hard down the country road, Granger estimated he had already put more than three miles between himself, the small town, and the hotel. At this time the road was practically deserted, which suited him just fine. Several times he had thought he heard a vehicle approaching from behind, but it had
become
increasingly difficult to tell, because of his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart and eardrums.
Wiping perspiration from his eyes and forehead, he relished the peace he always felt with his routine, it had always kept him from slipping into a dark abyss, ever since he had killed his father. While some people went to church to be at peace with themselves, nature and all
its
wonders had always did the trick for him.
As he began laboring up a steep grade, he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle gunning
its
engine. Trotting to the shoulder of the road, he glanced behind him just in time to see a white Dodge cargo van bearing down on him. He had no time to evade the vehicle as he felt the sickening impact of metal slamming into his body. He screamed in both pain and shock as he felt himself flying through the air.
               
**********************************************
Cynne' was glad she and Raidon had taken the time to explore the area while waiting for their flight, which was still five hours away. Checking her makeup in the restaurant ladies room mirror, she smiled. She had to admit that ever since he had suggested they relax for
a
while
, he had
gone
out of his way to be sweet, which was completely unlike him.
Hearing someone coming into the bathroom, she glanced in the mirror again and saw a tall black woman approaching from behind. She had noticed the woman in the restaurant earlier, when she and an entourage of young Latino men had entered. It had been hard to forget, because all of the young men had been boisterous almost to the point of being obnoxious. To a man, they had an arrogant swagger, were loaded down with what the kids these days referred to as 'bling bling', and had flashed large wads of cash at the waitresses. Everything about the young men screamed 'drug dealers' or gang members. Or both.
Raidon had picked up on the fear and uneasiness the group had caused, and suggested they sit in a far corner, near the side exit.
But something about the woman was definitely different from the company she was keeping, and Cynne' stole a glance at her as she stopped in front of the sink next to her and turned the water on. She was tall and was dressed in a brown leather vest, brown, low hanging leather pants with matching leather boots, a look that could truly be pulled off only by a few, and this woman was definitely one of the few who could do it.
Noticing she was being watched, the woman glanced at her and smiled. “Hello.”
“Hi.” she returned the woman's greeting with a smile of her own, then pulled a tube of lip gloss from her small handbag.
“A fellow American, I see. Are you enjoying your stay in lovely Zihuatanejo Bay?” the stranger asked as she began washing her hands.
“Yes, it's lovely here. I wish we had more time, I would love to do the midnight cruise of the bay.” she replied with a sigh. “How about you, are you here on business, or pleasure?”
Turning the water off, the woman grabbed some paper towels and began drying her hands. “Business, unfortunately.”
“Really, what line of work you in?”
“I'm in....waste management.” the woman replied with a morbid chuckle that made Cynne's heart skip a beat for some reason. Not wanting to be rude, she put the lip gloss back in her purse and extended a hand. “Name's Cynne' Barnes, nice to meet you.”
Tossing the paper towels in the trash, the woman grasped her hand and shook it. “Such a lovely name. Nice to meet you, Cynne', my friends call me Raven.”

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