by Karen Rose
‘Hell, yeah. You find him. I’ll know.’ Diesel stood up, his chair scraping the floor. ‘Am I done now? Can I go back to the waiting room?’
Kate stopped knitting and locked her gaze on his. ‘In a minute. How do you know of the Professor? I need names. I need people to tell me everything they know about him.’
Diesel hesitated and Kate’s eyes flashed. ‘For God’s sake, Kennedy! This is not the time to be protecting anyone. Whose secrets are worth letting this fucker get away?’
Diesel drew a breath. ‘Stone’s,’ he said on a harsh exhale. ‘Stone O’Bannion’s.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Friday 14 August, 5.50 P.M.
He closed himself in his office, his body trembling. His arm was burning like fire. But that was better than being ice cold, which it had been when he’d first pulled that fucker’s knife out. Goddammit. Where had that tattooed asshole come from?
He’d been afraid that Dani Novak would never come out of that damn clinic, but she finally had. He’d been waiting for over an hour and roasting in the heat, dressed in black as he was. He’d been vacillating about putting on the fucking ski mask because he thought he might pass out from heat stroke, but now he was glad he had. He’d considered going mask-free, figuring that if anyone had seen him dragging Dr Novak to her car, they’d describe the Professor, who he planned to retire anyway. But it had still been full daylight, and it was better that everyone think the good doc was being mugged. It was believable. Bad part of town, pretty doc who might be carrying drugs with a street value? Nobody would be surprised about a mugging.
He sat down heavily behind his desk and took a look at his arm. He’d stopped the bleeding, thankfully, and hadn’t left a drop at the scene, other than what had been on the knife, which he’d left in the doctor’s gut. If he’d had one more second – and the use of his good arm, dammit – he would have slit her fucking throat.
But that tattooed nightmare had charged him like a rabid bull, and he’d done the only thing he could do – he’d gutted the doc and run like hell.
God, I hope the bitch dies. She hadn’t told him what he wanted to know when he’d held the knife at her throat. Hadn’t spilled Davenport’s location when he’d forced her toward his car. He should have figured her for a tougher cookie than she looked. He knew what she’d been through in recent months. Dammit.
She’d bled on him, that first, accidental slice across her collarbone when that asshole had burst from behind him, roaring her name. Scared the shit out of me. And he did not scare that easily.
But HIV? Hell, yeah, that scared him too. Because that asshole had thrown a knife at his goddamn arm, opening him up like a can of tuna. He examined his shirt carefully. Dani Novak’s blood had spattered on one side of it, opposite the arm that hurt like a motherfucker. But at least it didn’t appear to have commingled with his own.
He’d have to go on a preventative cocktail, just to make sure. And wouldn’t that be fun? His system didn’t do well with drugs of any kind. So . . . no. Not gonna be fun at all.
And there was still the issue of the doctor herself. If she lived, she’d tell them he was asking about Davenport. She was another loose end. And he still didn’t know where Davenport was.
‘Goddammit.’ He glanced at the door, double-checking that he’d locked it. Nell was gone for the day, but she sometimes left for dinner then came back to do paperwork. He hoped she’d be lazy tonight. Or have a date or something. He didn’t want to have to explain this to her. She’d call the cops on his behalf, and that would not do at all.
He assembled all the materials he needed to stitch himself up, something he hadn’t needed to do in years, not since his early dealing days. The Professor had attained a kind of rock-star status and normally nobody gave him any shit.
Gritting his teeth, he cleaned and stitched the wound, relieved to find it was a smooth cut and not a jagged one. Smooth cuts were so much faster to stitch. He ground his teeth harder, until the pain in his jaw distracted him from the pain in his arm. That had been one hell of a sharp knife, and this wound was fucking deep. And he’d never achieved ambidexterity, so his fingers kept fumbling the needle.
Finally he was done, and he sat back and let himself pant it out. Sweat drenched him and he smelled absolutely horrible. Emptying his pockets, he stripped off his clothes and bagged them. He’d burn them later. Standing still for a moment, he lifted his face to the A/C duct and let the cold air cool his heated skin, before going to the sink and washing up as best he could. He’d shower later, in the privacy of his own bathroom. He might even risk one of the painkillers he made such a fortune selling. Which he was now going to have to find a different way to sell.
He hated to get rid of the Professor. He’d become . . . a friend. A very useful friend.
He tossed back a handful of ibuprofen. OTC would have to do for now. He dressed in the spare clothes he kept in his desk drawer, still feeling like shit, but a little closer to human at least.
I need food, or that ibuprofen is gonna rip up my gut. But all he could find in the drawers were granola bars and the lollipops they gave kids after shots, even the high school and college kids. They were bigger babies than the real babies. Lollipops to make the owie feel better.
He wolfed down a granola bar, popped a lollipop in his mouth, then smiled. He knew exactly what would make his owie feel better now. Pulling a packet of gauze from the drawer, he accessed a spoofing site and dialed 911 using poor Charlie’s number.
‘This is 911. What is the nature of your emergency?’
He covered the phone’s mic with the gauze and altered his voice, making it higher – like a teenager’s. ‘My friend took something. He needs help.’ He gave Rawlings’s address, and hung up before the operator could ask anything more.
Then he dialed Rawlings and sat back to savor.
‘What do you want?’ Rawlings barked into his phone. ‘I’m a little busy right now.’
He smiled at the sounds of moaning and retching. Tim Junior had a quick metabolism. ‘I’m sorry to bother you at such an inopportune moment. Is your son feeling poorly?’
There was a long silence. ‘What have you done to him?’ Rawlings hissed.
‘Well, technically I didn’t do anything directly. Your son did it to himself.’
Heavy, angry breathing assaulted his ears. ‘What the fuck have you done to my son?’
‘You should probably take him to the ER, stat. I wouldn’t delay. Have them pump his stomach, maybe give him some activated charcoal. Check for liver, kidney damage.’
‘You poisoned him?’ Rawlings whispered. ‘With what?’
‘Same stuff you used on Alice.’
‘Oh my God,’ he moaned. ‘Why? He’s just a boy.’
‘Because I can. Because you threatened me.’
‘I will tell them everything,’ Rawlings said hoarsely.
‘No, I really don’t think so. Because they’re going to want to know why someone poisoned your son with ricin. You said Agent Novak was already pressing you with questions. This isn’t going to look good for you.’
‘I’ll tell them you hired me. That you threatened me. That you forced me.’
‘I don’t think you’ll do that either. Because you still have two other children, don’t you? I can get to them too, Rawlings. Any time. Any place. So . . . let’s be friends, not enemies. You tear up your little list and we’ll have no more issues between us.’
An audible swallow, a shuddering exhale. Then a cagily asked question. ‘How will you know I tore up the list?’
Some people simply do not learn. ‘I won’t. Hopefully you won’t die. And if anyone comes sniffing after the Professor, I’ll know to come after you. Or your family.’
‘You’re a monster.’
He laughed. ‘Like you didn’t know that already? I’d tend to your
son now, Rawlings. Every minute that shit stays in his stomach is another minute that it’s starving his body of protein. Internal organs really don’t like being starved of protein. Look, I could have done worse. I could have had him inhale it. Death would have been inevitable then. At least with ingestion, you have a chance of saving him if you pump it out of his stomach soon.’
‘When he wakes up, the cops will want to know who gave it to him,’ Rawlings said desperately. ‘I don’t want him in danger because he could expose you.’
‘He can’t. He’ll say he got the pills from a buddy. And the buddy won’t be saying a word.’
A shocked moment of silence. ‘You killed his friend? My God. You really are a monster.’
‘My God,’ he mocked in reply. ‘Jesus, Rawlings. I gave you a little more credit.’ The sound of sirens in the background made him grin. ‘I think you’re about to have company.’
A gasp. ‘What did you do?’
‘Saved your son’s life. I’m going to go now.’ He hung up and nodded once. ‘Better than any painkiller ever.’
He gathered together his dirty clothes and the bloody gauze pads he’d used to clean his wound. He’d get a proper meal, a proper shower, then figure out what to do about Davenport.
And Dani Novak, if she managed to survive.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Friday 14 August, 5.50 P.M.
Decker let out a breath, staring at Diesel Kennedy. ‘Stone O’Bannion knows the Professor?’
Kate had blinked once, her surprise hidden in an instant. ‘The same Stone O’Bannion who sat at the table with us yesterday? Marcus’s brother?’
Diesel nodded woodenly. ‘He won’t want to tell you anything. He’s ashamed.’
‘Does his brother know?’ Decker asked quietly.
‘No. Stone never wanted him to.’ A muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘And now Marcus will know because I opened my big fucking mouth.’
‘For Dani,’ Decker told him. ‘Does Stone still use?’
‘No.’ Diesel shook his head hard. ‘Hell, no. It was when he came home from the Gulf. He’s been clean for a few years now.’
‘Lots of guys turned to chemical help when they came home,’ Decker said levelly. ‘I know I was tempted, so I’m not gonna judge.’
‘You might be the only one,’ Diesel snapped. ‘Can I fucking go now?’
Kate’s nod was weary. ‘Yes. You can go. Thank you.’
Diesel closed the door behind him hard, making her wince.
Decker sighed. ‘Shit. What a mess.’
‘Yes. It is.’ Kate shook her head slightly, her focus dropping back to her knitting. ‘Dammit, I dropped a stitch when he said Stone’s name.’ She fixed her stitch, then looked back up at him, her expression pained. ‘Stone has been through the wringer. I do not want to ask him about this.’
‘But you will. You have to. He’s a reporter, Kate. He would have noticed little things about this Professor asshole that his other customers might not have.’
‘I know.’ She shoved her knitting back in the bag. ‘This all sucks, Decker. Dani in surgery, four people in the morgue, and the girl never called back either.’ She pressed trembling fingers to her temples. ‘I hope he hasn’t killed her too. I hope that by arresting Corey Addison so publicly I didn’t paint a target on the girl. She’s already suffered so much. Why did I do that? It wasn’t worth the risk to her to parade Addison around like that.’
Part of Decker wanted to soothe her by telling her that it would be okay, that the girl was probably okay, but because he respected her, he didn’t. Because there was a better-than-decent chance that the girl had been targeted as well, especially if the man who’d forced her into porn knew she’d contacted the police. Which also was possible, because the bastard seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.
So rather than insult her with platitudes, he pulled her hands from her temples and kissed her fingertips, his heart squeezing when her eyes got glassy with unshed tears. ‘This isn’t about one girl, Kate. It never was. It’s about all the kids out there who’re being abused on camera and off, right now. By showing that viewers of child porn get caught, you might make potential customers think twice before they download that video. Before that kid who was filmed is watched again. Victimized again. Besides, you never mentioned Sunshine Suzie on the broadcast.’
She was unconvinced. ‘Tell me that again if we find her body, okay?’ she said, her sarcasm brutally cutting. ‘I’ll need to hear that lie once more.’
He swallowed a sigh and tried a different approach. ‘Then you can remind me that it’s not my fault if Dani dies. I’ll need to hear that lie too.’
She blinked, sending the tears down her cheeks. ‘It’s not the same.’ She tried to tug her hands free, but he held on, wiping her wet cheeks with his thumbs. ‘It’s not your fault that Dani was stabbed.’
‘Then how can it be your fault if the girl is killed by the same man?’ he asked softly.
‘No fair using logic,’ she whispered.
His mouth curved. ‘Did it work?’
She shook her head, new tears filling her eyes. ‘Not really. Dammit. I hate doing this.’ Again she tugged her hands free, and this time he let her go. She swiped her eyes with the heels of her hands.
‘Hate what?’ he asked. ‘Being human?’
‘Crying like this. It’s stupid and weak and useless and I can’t do this now. I don’t have time for this now. Dammit to hell.’ Because the tears continued to flow and she held her breath against a sob.
Decker couldn’t watch her beat herself up any longer. Pulling her into his arms, he settled her in his lap, her head against his shoulder. ‘Cry it out,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve got you.’
Her sob busted free, muffled against his shirt, the sound making his chest hurt. But her crying jag was short as she pulled her grief back into herself with what felt like sheer will, and that made his chest hurt even more. She drew a deep breath, her sobs completely stilled.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘This is the second time I’ve cried all over you.’
‘I don’t mind, and I won’t tell anyone. You’re safe with me, Kate. You can let it out.’
‘I know. But if I let it out, my face will be all puffy, and people will know I’m upset, which will suck if I have to be an utter asshole. Maybe I can take a rain check? Let it out later?’ She asked the question hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure what his answer would be.
‘I insist you do,’ he said lightly, and she instantly relaxed, melting against him. He relaxed as well, because it seemed he’d said the right thing in the right way. ‘As I recall, the first time you cried all over me ended pretty damn well. For both of us.’
She mmmed softly. ‘That it did.’
She made no move to leave, so he began rubbing her back. ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘I’ve read that tears and sex both produce endorphins, so crying it out followed by . . . y’know, ending it pretty damn well? Just know that I’m here for you,’ he said with mock sobriety. ‘Whatever you need.’
She chuckled. ‘You’re so altruistic. Or a master of bullshit, I’m not sure which.’
‘Maybe a little of both,’ he allowed, smiling because he’d succeeded in lightening her mood. He hugged her hard, gratified when she wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him back. ‘Mostly I just want you,’ he whispered in her ear, and her rough shiver did not hurt his ego at all. ‘So I’ll use whatever excuse works.’
‘I think “I want you” works really, really well. Thank you, Decker,’ she added softly. ‘I needed that re-set. If I let myself start crying about the victims, I’ll never stop.’
‘You’re not the only one,’ he said with total seriousness this time. ‘None of this is easy.’
She nuzzled her cheek against his chest before sliding off his lap. ‘I need to call Lieu
tenant Isenberg and tell her about Nurse Belinda so she can be brought in for questioning.’
‘If Belinda’s still at the clinic. I know I wouldn’t be.’
‘Yeah, but she doesn’t know that Diesel heard her telling Dani about the patient. Even if Dani survives to tell, she’ll think she can say Dani was mistaken.’
‘I still would be running for the hills. If she even worked there legitimately to begin with.’
‘Good point.’ She made the call to Isenberg, giving her the details of Diesel’s account, including the make and model of the masked man’s getaway car. ‘But that car had stolen plates last time, so don’t hold your breath for an ID,’ she added. ‘Okay, I’ll wait.’ She looked up at Decker. ‘She’s going to find the nurse.’
Decker waited patiently, but Kate paced, her steps growing quicker and more agitated as the seconds ticked by. Finally he took the phone from her hand and put it on speaker, gestured to her chair, then put her knitting in her hands once she’d sat down.
‘I wish I didn’t need to do this,’ she muttered. ‘But thank you.’
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Coppola?’ Isenberg’s voice came from the cell phone’s speaker.
‘I’m here with Agent Davenport. Did you find her?’
‘No,’ Isenberg said crisply. ‘She’s gone.’
Kate’s shoulders slumped and she gave Decker a you-were-right look. ‘Do we have an address where we can start searching for her?’
‘Yes. I’ve sent one of my detectives out to her house to bring her in for questioning. Her full name is Belinda Boyette and she lives in Madeira. One of the pricier parts.’
‘On a nurse’s salary?’ Decker asked. ‘Does she have a spouse who earns a bigger salary?’
A slight pause. ‘Why do you ask, Agent Davenport?’
‘Because she seemed determined to get Dani Novak out of the clinic and over to that patient’s house. Her reaction to seeing Dani stabbed and bleeding indicates that she didn’t know what was going to happen.’
