Ruthless (8 page)

After introducing himself and Mallory, Alton explained the investigatory work and protection Chelsea had requested of him. He then explained Mallory’s assignment. They discovered Detective Ayers was already aware of their efforts to help solve the earlier double-murders.

Mallory showed her FBI badge and asked, “Would it be possible to see the victim? I’d like to have first-hand knowledge of this incident, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Ayers.

Alton and Mallory entered the room. It was a typical, smallish apartment bedroom. Monica lay serenely on her back with the blankets pulled up to her neck. Even in eternal repose, her face radiated a soft beauty.

“Has she been touched?” asked Mallory.

“No, this is how we found her. The photographer hasn’t quite finished up yet. This doesn’t seem likely to come back as a homicide, but just in case, we’re required to take photos.”

“Miss Mancini and Miss Shaffer were good friends,” said Alton. “Would it be possible for someone in the department to notify us when the toxicology and on-scene reports are complete? I’m sure Miss Mancini would want to know.”

“I’ll have to talk to the captain, but considering the help you’ve given the Smyrna PD, I think he’d be okay with that. Just don’t go public with the information, all right?”

“Certainly, Detective.”

CHAPTER 24

Over the next few days, Alton, Mallory, and Pam consoled Chelsea as best they could. On an evening several nights after Monica’s death, Pam tended to Chelsea alone while Alton and Mallory absconded to the dining room table to discuss the implications of this most recent death.

“There are several reasonable but mutually-exclusive explanations for Monica’s death,” said Alton. “First, she could have committed suicide. According to Alpharetta PD, the pharmacy records show Monica had been taking this sleeping medicine for over three years. After taking it for so long, she knew the correct dosage, which makes it hard to imagine that her death was accidental.”

“On the other hand,” said Mallory, “there was no suicide note and no indications of depression, which leads to the second possibility—maybe it
was
a simple accidental overdose, right?”

“Exactly. Both of these theories, though, assume that Monica died from her own hand, either intentionally or accidentally. One of those explanations could be true, but we just pointed out their weaknesses: she knew the right dosage, and she wasn’t depressed. How did the overdose occur? Could someone else have somehow laced her food or drinks with the sleeping pills? It would be a clever way to murder someone, especially someone who regularly takes a drug that’s deadly in sufficient dosages—make it look like a self-inflicted death.”

“If it
is
a murder,” said Mallory, “that would lead to another question: is it somehow related to the assassinations of Jay Mancini and Louise Sinclair? Monica Shaffer had little connection with Louise Sinclair—only the fact that they lived in the same apartment complex for a while—and none at all with Jay Mancini. This suggests that her death is unrelated to the first two murders. On the other hand, it seems weirdly coincidental that this third person, Monica, who possibly knew one of the murder victims, dies herself just a week later, despite being young and healthy. We’re missing some pieces of the puzzle, Alton.”

“Agreed. Hopefully the police toxicology and on-scene reports will shed some light on the matter. Monica’s death adds another element of uncertainty to Chelsea’s safety, which leads me to the next question. Do you think Wiggins would assign you as an additional resource to this case for a few more weeks? Since you’re here, you could help me safeguard Chelsea and pursue the investigation from a personal angle, perhaps as an adjunct to the Organized Crime Division. Nobody else in the FBI knows Chelsea as well as you do.”

Mallory pondered for a moment. “Certainly the Organized Crime division people will be the leads on this case, but since I’m actually spending almost all my waking hours with Chelsea—a person who’s a member of the family being investigated—they might like to have me work the case from that angle. I’ll talk with Agent Stewart first. He’s the lead on this investigation. If he agrees, I’ll run it by my boss. I’ll think they’ll go along with it, at least for a few weeks. If the case turns cold, though, I’ll have to return to DC at some point.”

As Mallory predicted, Supervisory Agent Wiggins assigned her as an assistant to the investigation, providing she made progress on her existing caseload while in Atlanta. She was to assume the dual roles of pursuing the investigation via her association with Chelsea as well as keeping Chelsea herself protected.

Mallory shared this news with Alton, who was—not surprisingly—delighted to receive it. Mallory appeared pleased with the assignment. “Now I can keep an eye on Chelsea, in more ways than one,” she teased. Alton wasn’t quite sure of her meaning but was too happy to dwell on the comment for long.

CHAPTER 25

The next day, David and Fahima traveled to Chelsea’s apartment to dine with the dwelling’s usual evening crowd. Alton hoped David’s jovial manner would shine a light of encouragement onto the long shadows cast by the recent tragedies in Chelsea’s life. Alton had shared the details of the investigation with David and Fahima in the hope that they would move the conversation in a cheerful direction.

In additional to inflicting his usual assortment of groan-inducing humor, David teamed with Fahima to share their personal story with Chelsea: a chance meeting slowly leading to an unconquerable romance, the fear attendant with Fahima’s Al-Qaeda kidnapping, the joy of her escape, and the patience required for the permanent reunion which had, at last, occurred only a few short days earlier. They rejoiced in the telling, and Chelsea’s focus seemed to shift from her own troubled memories to the fairytale-like qualities of her companions’ saga.

“So what’s next for you two?” asked Chelsea.

“Funny you asked that,” said David. “We’re going to fly up to Washington tomorrow. Fahima is gonna meet my dad.”

“Is he funny like you?” asked Fahima with an innocent expression.

Mallory leaned over to Alton conspiratorially but raised the volume of her whisper sufficiently for all to hear. “If Fahima thinks David’s jokes are funny, they truly are a perfect couple.”

Alton raised his head back and laughed, in part because he knew Mallory was teasing and in part because he knew she wasn’t.

Early the next morning, Pam arrived at Chelsea’s apartment to remain with her while Alton and Mallory drove their friends to the airport in time for their 6:30 a.m. flight.

David and Fahima exhibited high spirits, the former’s overflowing in the form of questionable humor.

“So when I parked Mallory’s car yesterday,” David was saying, “the dash display said, ‘parking brake engaged.’ What I want to know is, when will it be married?” After slapping his knee and laughing, he exclaimed, “I’m on a roll, huh?”

“Yeah—downhill,” replied Mallory with a smirk.

After shaking his head ruefully, Alton asked, “Speaking of marriage, have you and Fahima set a date?”

“Not exactly,” said David, “but I don’t think it will be too long.”

“Really?” asked Mallory.

“Yes,” said Fahima. “We wait long time to be together. We do not want to wait more time. We think it will be only a few months.”

“Awesome!” exclaimed Mallory. “You know I live in the Washington area, right? Come see me if you want to go shopping for the wedding dress together.”

“I would like that,” said Fahima. “Now I see how you and Alton are also perfect couple. You like to help people like he does.”

“Yes,” said Mallory with a strange inflection in her voice. “I think we are, too.”

For a moment, Alton felt relieved to be driving. Staring down the road helped him avoid Mallory’s penetrating gaze. Did she wonder why he waited to form their own engagement? Despite her assurances of love, a lingering fear remained in Alton, a fear that Mallory would discover she deserved someone better than him. If Mallory made this discovery while engaged, would she have the heart to break off the engagement? Alton doubted it. Therefore he waited, intent on letting time prove her love was as unalterable as his own.

They arrived at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport and made their way to the ticketing terminal. As they approached the security queue, David and Fahima promised to provide regular updates on their wedding plans, and the friends exchanged heartfelt goodbyes.

Alton and Mallory watched their friends snake through the security line and eventually disappear into the bowels of the airport.

“After all they’ve been through,” said Alton, “I’m glad they’re finally together.” He clasped Mallory’s hand and walked with her to the airport’s exit.

CHAPTER 26

Five days after Monica Shaffer’s death, Detective Ayers of the Alpharetta Police Department engaged Alton in an evening phone conversation for nearly thirty minutes. Alton concluded the call and approached Chelsea, Mallory, and Pam—who was visiting as usual—with creased eyebrows.

“The toxicology report just came back. The level of sleeping medicine Monica’s blood was normal, not elevated. She didn’t die of an overdose.”

The news seemed to surprise them as much as it had Alton.

“How
did
she die, then?” asked Mallory.

“The police don’t know. They ran standard toxicology screens for alcohol, recreational drugs, and the most common causes of accidental poisoning. They all came back negative. Then they checked for natural causes of death: heart attack, stroke, choking. They even checked her blood sugar level in case she was unknowingly diabetic. Nothing. They still don’t know exactly how she died.”

“So we’re not any closer to knowing whether or not this was accidental. What about the police’s forensic analysis of Monica’s apartment. Have they finished it?” asked Mallory.

“Yep. They didn’t see any evidence to suggest foul play. There were no signs of a struggle and nothing missing from the apartment to suggest a robbery. Her window was cracked open, which is a bit unusual for such a chilly time of year, but she didn’t die of hypothermia. It wasn’t nearly cold enough for that. And only Spider-man could make it up the sheer wall to her third-floor apartment. She doesn’t seem to have been a crime victim. It appears she died a natural death. The investigators just don’t know the exact cause yet.”

“Poor Monica,” said Chelsea, tearing up. “I’m glad she wasn’t attacked or murdered, but regardless of what caused it, she’s still dead.”

Mallory and Pam both did their best to comfort Chelsea, knowing nonetheless they could do little to relieve the pain that only time can assuage.

CHAPTER 27

It was dusk. The stranger stopped his Sentra on a side road and peered at the gated entrance of the Eagle Crest Apartments. A pickup truck approached the gate, and the stranger deftly pulled in behind it. The pickup’s driver punched a code into the security keypad and pulled through as the gate swung open. The stranger accelerated and barely made it through before the gate closed.

Piece of cake
.

The stranger slowly circled the lot until he spotted Building G. He parked, adjusted his cap, and removed the necessary equipment from the trunk of his car.

As he approached the target property, the living room light suddenly blinked on. He could discern the silhouettes of several people as they walked across the room. 

“I’m not having a lot of luck,” groused the stranger to himself, “but this is the right location. I just need to be patient.”

Returning to his car, the stranger packed up his belongings and left.

CHAPTER 28

The next day, Chelsea and Alton decided to begin working in the Kruptos building again rather than working remotely from Chelsea’s apartment as they had since Monica’s untimely demise. Heeding her friends’ safety instructions, Chelsea promised to stay near groups of people at work and remain in the building for lunch. She also committed to never travel between Kruptos and her apartment alone.

On arriving at work, Alton and Chelsea parked, passed through the employee entrance, and began walking down the entrance hallway. They passed near the cubicle of Brent Tanaka, Chelsea’s ex-boyfriend. As they approached Brent’s desk, a friend shouted, “Hey, Chelsea—where have you been?”

Chelsea turned to acknowledge the greeting, and Alton noticed Brent staring at her intently. Chelsea started to smile at Brent but seemed to grow uncomfortable under his gaze and looked at the floor instead. After chatting briefly with her friend, Chelsea resumed her walk with Alton down the hallway.

“You know him, right?” asked Alton, nodding in Brent’s direction.

“Yes—we went out for a while, but I broke it off.”

“He still seems interested in you, doesn’t he?”

“I couldn’t say,” replied Chelsea. Her hunched shoulders suggested a disinclination to discuss the topic further.

From the corner of his eye, Alton noticed Brent continuing to stare at Chelsea. Apparently she noticed it too, for a cold shiver ran through her frame.

Several days after returning to work, Chelsea shared dinner with her two protectors and Pam.

“So how is work going?” Mallory asked Chelsea.

“Fine. It’s good to see my colleagues there—you  know, get back into a normal lifestyle.”

“Are they keeping you busy?”

“Oh, yeah. Our project beta test deadline is only a few weeks away, and Mr. Lewis—my boss—is on our backs to finish the project on time. Confidentially, I wouldn’t mind the pressure so much if he didn’t try to take all the credit for himself. He’s always telling the other managers, ‘Mr. Lattimore asked me last week how I finish my projects so quickly.’ What a crock. He’s not the one doing the work—we are. But to hear Mr. Lewis tell it, you’d think he was the only person on the team.”

“That must be frustrating,” said Mallory.

“Absolutely,” said Chelsea. “Alton, when the Aegis project is over, do you think you’d need another software developer for the Jana project?”

“We could always use a good programmer,” assured Alton. He wasn’t sure what to make of the slight frown on Mallory’s face.

“On a different note, guess who asked me out again?” asked Chelsea with a shake of her head.

“Surely not Miles Worley,” said Alton. Chelsea nodded slowly, and Alton continued, “Can’t the guy take a hint? How many times does that make—five?”

“He’s persistent. I’ll give him that,” said Mallory. “How do you feel about having a new romantic interest in your life?”

“With Miles Worley? I don’t think so.”

Pam laughed along in her own timid way. “Do you think you’ll ever go out with him?” she asked Chelsea, breaking her usual silence.

“No,” began Chelsea, but then she thought for a moment. “You know, maybe I
should
go out with Miles, just for fun. He’s not really my type, but going out for an evening would be a nice change from being cooped up in here all the time.”

Alton was surprised, yet he immediately understood that Chelsea and Worley wouldn’t form a serious relationship. On the scale of desirability, they represented the difference between the major leagues and the little leagues.

“Yes, maybe that would be fun,” said Mallory, “as long as you agree to an escort. We’ll keep a discreet distance, of course.”

“Sure,” agreed Chelsea, seemingly cognizant of the potential risk she faced daily. “If other members of my family are waiting for an opportunity to silence me, I’m not going to make it too easy for them.”

That weekend, Miles Worley experienced the possible highlight of his adult life as he picked up Chelsea from her apartment. Worley appeared to have given extra attention to his comb-over. The same could not be said of his attire, which was plain and unremarkable, much like the man himself. Nonetheless, as he walked Chelsea to his car, his strut would have made a peacock proud.

As the couple departed, Alton tailed them in his Explorer with Mallory at his side. To better monitor Chelsea’s safety and give her a hands-free means of calling for help, Mallory had fitted Chelsea with a concealed microphone. The biggest payoff from the mike, though, proved to be the opportunity to listen to Worley’s performance.

Chelsea and Worley’s itinerary consisted of a meal at
Valentino’s
, an upscale Italian restaurant. During the drive there, Worley delivered a fine monologue on the best combat video games, complete with pros and cons of the leading brands. After ordering their meal, he then moved on to tendering his unsolicited opinion on several current movies, once again replete with detail.

Finally, the dinner arrived. Encouraged by Chelsea’s apparent fascination with his choice of topics, Worley shifted to a diatribe against “New Yorkers,” blissfully unaware that most of the maternal side of Chelsea’s family hailed from the Empire State. Finally, on the drive back, he plunged without fear into a lengthy political discourse, adding emphasis to his opinions with an occasional strike of the steering wheel. As the date concluded, Alton and Mallory’s early chuckles had grown into uncontrolled hysterics.

Other than the exhaustion resulting from the profound effort required to keep a straight face when every fiber of one’s being longs to laugh, Chelsea survived the evening unscathed. She entered her apartment, and her bodyguards arrived moments later. Pam greeted the three as they returned.

“Oh, Lord!” laughed Chelsea as she discussed the evening with her companions. “I think I’ll need to go out with him at least more time, just to give him an opportunity to discuss any other taboo first-date topics he missed tonight. I think he forgot to cover religion.”