Reunited By The Badge (To Serve & Seduce Book 3)

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  He opened his eyes and took a second breath. “Did they do an autopsy?”

  “The official ruling was complications from pneumonia. I can get you a copy of the autopsy report if you’d like me to.”

  “I’d really appreciate that. He was doing better when I left. I need to know what happened.”

  “I understand completely. Dr. Hayes was attending when he was admitted. He may be able to answer some of your questions, as well. Would you like me to see if he’s in yet?”

  Paul shook his head. “Don’t worry yourself. I’ll run down to the morgue and see what I can find out myself. I appreciate your help, though.”

  The iPhone that rested on the woman’s hip suddenly chimed. “Duty calls,” she said as she reached for the device.

  Paul smiled. “Don’t let me keep you from your rounds.”

  “It was good to see you, Dr. Reilly,” she said as she exited the room to answer the call.

  “It was good to see you, too, Grace.”

  Paul moved back to the desk to claim his briefcase. He exited the office, locked it behind him and headed down the corridor. Grace had been called into a patient’s room and she waved one last time as he passed by the door.

  As he neared the nurses’ station Paul saw them before they saw him. The two men from the night before stood with a hospital administrator, questioning one of the staff members. He made an abrupt turn as he heard them speak his name, asking about his whereabouts. As he made it to the opposite end of the hallway and turned toward the stairs, they spied him, the administrator pointing in his direction.

  Without giving it an ounce of thought, Paul took off running, descending three flights of stairs and tearing out a side door, through the emergency room bay, to the car parked in the back lot. As he pulled the vehicle onto the main road, the two men stood outside the hospital building, spinning in circles as they tried to figure out where he’d disappeared to. Paul kept driving, not bothering to give a second look behind him.

  * * *

  Simone stepped out of the bathroom. She was drying her damp hair with a thin white towel. Her brother was on his phone, texting intently as he sat waiting for her.

  “Where’s Paul?” she questioned as she moved to the window. She pushed the drapes aside to peer out at the parking lot.

  “Hospital,” Mingus answered, never lifting his eyes from his cell phone screen.

  She blinked. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  She winced, her hands falling to her hips. “If I’d known he planned to leave, I would have.”

  Her brother shrugged his broad shoulders, his gaze still focused on his phone. “He said he had patients to see.”

  “And you didn’t think that might be a problem?”

  “Should it be?”

  “Uhhh, maybe? Or did you forget someone was shooting at us last night?” she quipped.

  Mingus finally lifted his eyes to give her a quick look. “It’s doubtful anyone will take a shot at him in broad daylight,” he said.

  “And you know this how?”

  “I don’t really. It’s just a hunch,” Mingus said as he slid his cell phone into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He changed the subject. “You need to finish getting dressed. We need to meet your boyfriend in forty-five minutes.”

  “Meet him where?”

  “You sure do ask a lot of questions, Simone! Can you just get ready to leave, please?”

  “I ask questions because I need answers and you’re not telling me anything.”

  Mingus blew air past his full lips. “You two need to get out of Chicago. I don’t know where you’re going, and it’s best no one knows, but I trust Paul is going to keep you safe. Now, let’s get moving, please. You need to call your job so they’re not looking for you. And, you need to call our mother. Tell her Paul is taking you away for a few days to reconcile. I’m sure she’ll be very excited! Throw something in there about grandbabies and she won’t worry about you for at least a month!”

  A wave of panic hit Simone like a gut punch to her midsection. She and Paul were leaving Chicago and the uncertainty of what lay ahead for them suddenly felt daunting. She had a lengthy list of what-ifs and no sustainable answers about the future filling her head and she knew it showed in the angst-filled expression on her face. Her brother picking at her didn’t help the situation.

  “Talk about planning a wedding and that might buy you two months of freedom from parental interference,” Mingus was saying.

  Simone’s lips twisted and turned, her face burning hot with annoyance. She shook her index finger at her brother. “I really don’t like you,” she said as she shuffled back in the direction of the bathroom.

  Mingus laughed. “I love you, too, Simone. You’re the best little sister in the whole wide world.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” Simone muttered as she slammed the bathroom door closed after her.

  * * *

  Paul’s mind was racing as he searched out a parking space in the West Loop neighborhood. His anxiety level was at an all-time high and he took two deep breaths to calm his nerves. After shutting down the engine of the luxury vehicle, he checked and then double-checked the address Mingus had given him before stepping out of the car.

  Paul paused at the chain-link fence that bordered the property. He looked left and then right, assessing his surroundings before he stepped through the latched gate, then reclosed it behind him. He took the steps two at a time and depressed the doorbell. As he waited, he paced, his eyes darting back and forth across the landscape.

  The elderly woman who answered the door eyed him with reservation. “What’cha want, baby?”

  “Good morning, ma’am. I’m here to see Liza? My name’s Paul Reilly. Mingus Black sent me.”

  The woman didn’t respond, still staring at him intently. She was petite in stature, wearing a floral housecoat and a full-length apron that stopped below her knees. There was a dishcloth in her hand and a light brush of white flour dusting her chubby cheek. Her gaze swept over him, running the length of his body from head to toe. After sizing him up she finally unlocked the door and pushed it open to allow him entry.

  “Come on in, baby. I’m Pearl Hill but e’erybody calls me Mama. You want somethin’ to eat? I got a pan of biscuits ’bout to come out the oven. I got some fatback and bacon, too, but Liza don’t eat no meat. You ain’t one of them vegans, too, are you?” she asked, her words laced with a Southern drawl and coming in what sounded like one long, drawn-out sentence before she took another breath.

  Paul smiled. “No, thank you, ma’am. I’m good.”

  She sized him up a second time. “You know you hungry,” she said with an air of finality. “I’m gon’ make you a plate.” She pointed down a flight of stairs. “Liza’s down in the basement. She’s expecting you.”

  Paul nodded as she continued toward the back of the home and the kitchen. The stately greystone, an architectural staple in Chicago since the 1890s, was built from Bedford limestone and named for its color. It was oversize, the craftsmanship evident in the exterior detail. The interior of the duplex featured wide-plank oak flooring, high ceilings and an abundance of natural light. Moving down the steps Paul discovered the lower-level bonus room with walls of computer screens and a young woman who looked like a bag of Skittles candy had exploded over her.

  Liza was very young. Much younger than he’d expected, and he hadn’t known what he might have been walking into. Her royal blue hair had a streak of white in the front that was swept across her brow and was pulled into a high ponytail adorned with a barrette of yellow flowers. She wore an orange, yellow and pink tie-dyed sweat suit with red Converse sneakers. She was the Rainbow Brite character on steroids, and she made Paul smile.

  “Hey! Mingus didn’t come with you?” she said, her hands coming to an abrupt halt atop the key
board she was typing on.

  Paul shook his head. He couldn’t help but wonder what she did for Mingus and how they knew each other. “No,” he answered, “but I think he’s coming.”

  She shrugged and resumed her typing. “Mama Hill’s going to be pissed. She’s up there cooking bacon for him right now and she knows how much I hate the smell of pig cooking in the kitchen. He better come.”

  “He...well...it’s...”

  “No worries. We’ll see him when we see him. Until then though, you’ll have to eat the bacon.”

  Paul took two steps forward. “Is Mama Hill your grandmother?”

  Liza shot him a look. “She’s everyone’s grandmother. So, what do you need?”

  “I just have messages on my phone that I need to print out.”

  Liza gestured for him to take a seat beside her. “What’s your email address?” she asked.

  Paul reached for his phone, stopping when she asked him again.

  “I just need your email address, not your phone.” She pushed a pad of paper and an ink pen toward him.

  After writing down his personal email address, Paul pushed the pad back to her. “I just need any messages that might have come in the last three days,” he said softly.

  A few short minutes later paper was spewing from a Xerox multifunction printer in the corner of the room. Liza gestured with her head, pointing him toward the ream of documents filling the output tray.

  “So, you’re a hacker,” Paul said as he began sorting through the papers for those he needed and the ones he didn’t.

  “I prefer ‘skilled computer expert.’”

  “You just look so young.”

  Her brows raised but she didn’t look in his direction, studying the screen before her instead. “I’m older than you think,” she muttered.

  “Can you get into anyone’s computer system?”

  “What do you need?”

  “Everything you can get on a company called Lender Pharmaceuticals and what they have on a drug called Halphedrone-B. Not sure where you’d look, but maybe start in their research and development department? Maybe any communications about the drug between their management team?”

  Liza typed, her head shifting from side to side as data filled the two screens on the desktop and then more information began to cover the larger screens on the walls. Liza stopped typing and stared from one screen to another, deciphering code that looked like a foreign language to Paul.

  He was impressed with Liza’s expertise as he watched pages of emails and reports begin to fill the computer screens and he wasn’t sure why because what they were doing was highly illegal. If he didn’t already have enough problems, this might top his list and send him straight to prison. But curiosity had gotten the better of him. And Simone wasn’t there to play devil’s advocate and make him change his mind about asking for the information. He knew Simone would not be pleased, and he was sure she’d have his head when she found out. He took a deep breath as he imagined the choice words she would spew.

  “This may take a minute,” Liza said finally, pulling at his attention. “They have some serious firewalls up to keep people like me out.”

  “But you can get in without them knowing?”

  She gave him a look, her expression twisted with evident annoyance at his question. “Go eat some bacon. I’ll call you if I need you.” She reached for a remote that rested on the table and music suddenly filled the room. It was something classical, a poetic blend of flutes, violins and a piano. She threw him one last glance as she turned the volume up high, then she resumed typing, her blue hair swaying with the music.

  Upstairs, Mama Hill had set the kitchen table with five places. A feast for twenty sat table center. There was a platter of hot biscuits, crispy bacon, buttered grits, blueberry muffins, scrambled eggs, a bowl of sliced fruit and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

  The old woman winked an eye at him as he entered the room and pointed him to the chair. She stood at the stove, stirring something in a large cast-iron pot. The aroma wafting around the room was mouthwatering and a hunger pang rippled through his midsection. Paul stole a quick glance toward his wristwatch, noting the time he was quickly running out of. Wondering if Simone was on her way, or if perhaps she’d changed her mind.

  “Sit!” Mama Hill snapped, seeming to read his mind. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly. “You need to eat!” She stopped stirring the pot she was standing over. “Answer the door first, though. Make yourself useful.”

  Paul hesitated for a moment, then turned on his heel. He hadn’t heard the doorbell, but the look the old woman threw in his direction had him thinking there might be a problem if he protested. He made his way back to the front of the home and pulled open the door. Simone and Mingus stood on the front porch. As Mingus brushed past him, entering the living space, he rolled his eyes skyward. Paul instinctively knew Simone was not a happy camper. He didn’t know if he should be scared or not, but the sight of her instantly calmed his nerves.

  “Hey,” he said, greeting her softly.

  When Simone didn’t respond, instead giving him a dirty look before she followed her brother, Paul figured it probably wasn’t a good time to tell her about the two strangers being at the hospital. Laughter suddenly rang loudly from the kitchen, the matriarch in high spirits as she greeted Mingus. Paul blew a soft sigh. He closed and locked the door and moved back toward the kitchen.

  Mingus was making introductions. “Mama Hill, this is my baby sister Simone. Simone, this is Mrs. Pearl Hill, but everyone calls her Mama. Mama has helped me out with a few cases in the past.”

  Mama Hill pulled Simone into a warm hug. “Any family of Mingus’s is family here. Y’all sit down. We was just ’bout to have us some breakfast.” She pointed them toward the table.

  “It smells good, Mama. And you made your special candied bacon!” Mingus chimed as he pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down.

  The older woman grinned, her toothy smile gleaming under the morning light. “Made it just for you. I know how much you like my bacon.”

  Simone looked all kinds of confused as she sat down next to her brother. She clearly had questions, but she sensed she needed to wait before asking. She was also tense, her nerves feeling like she might explode. She was angry at Paul and relieved and all she wanted was to throw herself into his arms and then slap his face for making her worry.

  For the briefest moment she stared in Paul’s direction, then snatched her eyes away when he sat down and stared back. There was a hint of relief in her gaze and then that sliver of anger revved back up to full throttle. Paul smiled, vaguely amused by the wealth of emotion she was struggling to contain. Mama Hill suddenly tapped him against the back of his head, snapping him back to attention.

  “Ouch!” he exclaimed as he reached to rub the offending bruise.

  Simone and Mingus both laughed.

  “Mama was asking you a question,” Mingus said.

  “Sorry,” Paul responded. “I wasn’t paying attention, Mama Hill. What were you saying?”

  The old woman chuckled, her head shaking from side to side. “Liza is calling for you. She needs you to come downstairs.”

  “Who’s Liza?” Simone suddenly questioned, giving him another look.

  Mingus grinned, eyeing him with a raised brow.

  Paul shook his head, looking slightly flustered by the sliver of jealousy that blew over her spirit. “She’s a friend of your brother’s. She’s helping us out.”

  Mama Hill looked from him to Simone and back. “Take Simone downstairs with you and introduce her. Then the three of you come back up dem stairs and get you some breakfast. Tell Liza Mingus is here.”

  Paul nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Simone sat for a second too long before the older woman admonished them both. “Y’all ain’t got all day now!”

&nbs
p; Mingus laughed, a deep belly guffaw that made Simone shift her annoyance in his direction as she stood and followed Paul to the basement.

  Chapter 5

  “Dude! Did you know that the pharmaceutical industry raised prices on thousands of drugs this year? Including medications to treat arthritis, high blood pressure and diabetes? Some of these guys hauled in over $25 billion in profits last year. That’s some serious price gouging!” Liza looked astonished as Paul and Simone went downstairs.

  Paul nodded. “Americans routinely pay more for prescription drugs that are just a fraction of the cost in other countries. The bigger question is why we’re the only industrialized nation that allows pharmaceutical executives to raise prices with zero consideration for public health.”

  Liza pointed her index finger at him. “This really is some shysty mess!” She shifted her gaze toward Simone. “Who are you?”

  Paul tossed a look over his shoulder. “Liza, this is Simone. Simone, this is Liza, Mingus’s friend.” He emphasized the word friend so there was no doubt in Simone’s mind about his association with the young woman.

  “You a friend of Mingus’s, too?” Liza questioned.

  “Mingus is my brother. He’s upstairs, by the way. He got distracted by the food.”

  Liza’s excitement shimmered across her face. “Cool beans! It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Simone said, her eyes sweeping the room and taking in all the technology in the space.

  Paul could see the questions that caused her brow to furrow. “Liza is trying to find some information for me.”

  “I see. And how many laws are we breaking right now?”

  “You really don’t want to know,” Liza answered, shooting her another look.

  “Were you able to find anything?” Paul asked.

  Liza pointed to the printer. “You know none of this is admissible in a court of law, right?”

  Paul nodded, moving swiftly to the stack of paper spilling out of the machine.