Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1)

by Suzanne Steele

  She stands abruptly and starts unpacking. “Now, baby girl, if you don’t mind, I want to take a hot shower. It’s been years since I’ve felt clean.”

  I walk to the door and pause with my hand on the doorknob. I swallow hard and I’m sure she can hear it. “Okay, then, Lady—“

  “Lady doesn’t live here no more. I’d be pleased if you’d call me by my real name. It’s Evelyn.”

  “Nice to meet you, Evelyn.”

  Chapter Fifty Four

  His Truth

  “More suction, nurse. This knee is bleeding more than it should be. Shit! Are we sure this man isn’t on blood thinners?”

  “The standard form was filled out and he stated he wasn’t.”

  “Well, we’ve got a bleeder here. Put in a request for plasma, STAT. Just in case I can’t get this under control.”

  I contend with the diseased vein as the nurse leaves the operating room to make the call and the second nurse on our surgical team takes her place next to the anesthesiologist. Moments later the door opens and I hear footsteps behind me as the returning nurse murmurs shakily, “Um, Doctor…”

  I’m pleasantly surprised that she’s returned so quickly but I don’t bother looking up. “Good job, thanks. Go ahead and hang a pint, please.”

  “I’m not your fucking nurse, Liam,” says a menacing male voice from behind me. The nurse has tears streaming down her face as she rushes away from the intruder back to her station at the patient’s side. “Now put the scalpel down before I put a bullet through your skull.”

  I slowly lay the scalpel to the side and nod reassuringly at my two nurses, as well as the anesthesiologist who is positioned at the patient’s shoulder, calmly monitoring oxygen readings and vital signs. The nurses look shell-shocked, which is understandable given the circumstances. They look at each other questioningly, then stare at me, slack jawed, their gaze darting back and forth between me and the intruder. I give them a slight shake of my head to convey to them not to react. Then I speak to the man behind me.

  “Listen, I…I don’t know what you want with me, but you’re putting my patient at risk by contaminating the surgical field. I’m sure we can work out a solution for whatever this is about. I’d prefer to talk to you face to face. Can I turn around?”

  He laughs out loud, then says silkily, “Oh, please do.”

  I turn to face this man and scowl, immediately shaking my head to clear it. I blink slowly several times, staggered by what I see. There’s no denying it—it’s like looking in a mirror. The man standing in front of me is a carbon copy of…me.

  Lance. The unstable, homeless identical twin brother I’ve never met—at least, not since we were babies and not for lack of trying on my part. I’ve wondered about him through the years, even searched for him to no avail. And here he is standing in front of me. It’s as if he dropped out of the sky. Though he’s dressed in ratty jeans and a grey hoodie that’s pulled over his shadowy features, I’m still able to distinguish who he is. It isn’t just the gun he’s holding to my head that’s causing my heart to thunder in my eardrums; no, it’s the fact that, in this moment, a lifelong mystery is finally solved.

  Our mother was mentally ill, diagnosed with schizophrenia and prone to psychotic episodes throughout my childhood, which eventually resulted in her losing custody of me. I was sent to live with my paternal grandparents when I was six. My father abandoned us, vanishing without a trace while she was pregnant, so his parents were the only next of kin I had left, although I didn’t meet them until the day Social Services delivered me to their doorstep.

  Only years later did my grandparents tell me that I had a twin brother, and that my mother inexplicably chose to keep me and give my twin brother up for adoption. With no leads to follow and my mother refusing to talk, my grandparents focused on raising me and let sleeping dogs lie. I’ve always suspected that the adoption was Mother’s revenge against my father for abandoning her, so that even if he ever came back there would always be something missing. That way, he’d never stop suffering for the choice he made. My grandparents felt that her mental illness worsened when my father left and there was no one to keep her on her meds. When she was taking her medication, she managed to keep herself together. No meds, and the lunacy took hold.

  When I learned of my mother’s deception, I cut her off and would have nothing to do with her. What she stole from me by discarding my twin like a sack of garbage, could never be made right. Years later she died a violent death and I couldn’t help but feel that it was karma balancing out the misery she had inflicted on everyone around her. I still grapple with the fallout from her lies and deception. Ever since then, finding my brother has been my mission.

  Knowing Lance may have been living on the streets of Louisville, so close, for who knows how long, weighs heavy on my heart. With the exception of the shiner he’s sporting over one eye, he probably cleans up just fine and could easily pass for a respectable citizen of Louisville. I almost feel sorry for him as I look at him holding a gun on me with so much hatred and bitterness in his eyes. I’m sure he blames me because, let’s face it, there no one else left to blame.

  What he doesn’t know is that I’ve spent years trying to find him, hoping to establish some semblance of a relationship. All I was able to find out was that he was living on the streets, but I was never able to pin down any details. Recently, I had become desperate enough that I had decided to call Undercover Elite, a private investigation firm here in town. Spike Ostrom recommended them to me a while back and said that missing person cases were their specialty. Guess that phone call won’t be necessary now.

  In the blink of an eye, my priorities have taken a dangerous, dark turn, with the life of my patient and who knows how many others, in the balance.

  I raise my hands in the air, my bloody surgical gloves looking garish in the bright lights of the OR. “Lance, this is unnecessary. Step outside and allow me to finish this surgery and we’ll talk. We’ll talk for hours, really catch up.”

  “You shut up, you fucking shut up!” His voice is shaky and at this point all I want to do is get him out of this operating room before my patient bleeds out. “You’re no better than me, you know. I went to med school. That’s the only good thing the foster system ever did for me; I was a ward of the state so I could get grants to pay for my education. I didn’t finish, though,” he snarls. “They told me I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of a medical career. Their questions were ridiculous, the whole thing was a complete waste of my time. But I know as much about medicine as you do, brother.”

  “I’m sure you do, Lance,” I say, adopting a cool professional tone one might use in a medical peer consultation. “That’s why I know you recognize how important it is not to contaminate the surgical field in an operating room. We need to get the patient somewhere safe so his incision can be closed and he can recover. Surely you would agree with that aspect of the treatment plan in this case.”

  Lance glares at me, momentarily confused as he looks from me to the patient and back again. “You took my life, Liam! I grew up with nothing while you had everything handed to you on a silver platter. I want what’s rightfully mine.”

  I play along with his delusion in an effort to free the other hostages he has at gunpoint. “Lance, if you’re a medical professional, then you took an oath to do no harm. Now, I need to stabilize my patient so you and I can work things out.” Even though he isn’t a doctor because he’s been banned due to mental problems – a good call, no doubt -- he sees himself as a doctor so let’s go with that.

  He waves the gun in the direction of the man laid on the operating table.

  “Get to work, do what you need to do. You’re right, I don’t want his blood on my hands. Yours, well, that’s a different story.”

  Chapter Fifty Five

  Jack

  Agent Turner strolls into the office where Spider and I are still working at the computer. He heads toward the espresso machine and makes a cup before joining us. The ringi
ng of his phone interrupts our conversation about the surveillance tape and the handwriting match; this is a curve ball that’s taken us all by surprise, and I fucking hate surprises.

  Judging by the way Agent Turner’s eyeing me, it won’t be the only time we’re caught off guard today. Something’s up. He ends the call and cuts his eyes over to me, his expression grim.

  “We’ve got a hostage situation at the hospital—in Dr. Liam Chambers’ operating room.”

  “What? That makes no sense whatsoever. What’s he doing, mugging his patient right there on the table?” Spider mutters as he shakes his head in disbelief.

  “Don’t shoot the messenger,” Turner dryly retorts. “Seems a nurse went to get some blood and when she came back she was accosted in the hallway outside the OR and was forced to let the perp into the room. The staffer who was delivering the pint saw the struggle in the hall. She hung back and was able to get close enough to look through the viewing pane and saw a man with a gun holding the operating team hostage. She ran like hell and called for help without being noticed.”

  “Ballsy move,” I observe quietly. Individual acts of valor always impress me because there aren’t near enough of them in the world.

  “Sure was,” Turner replied solemnly. “The problem is, there’s a patient bleeding out and no blood on hand. It isn’t just the team whose lives are in danger, there’s an innocent patient in that room who’s under anesthesia and has no idea their life is in jeopardy. Law enforcement’s on scene. They’ve got the hospital surrounded but no audio or visual in the operating room. The hospital’s on lock-down so we can only hope for the best.”

  “There should be some way to hack into the OR cameras they use for training interns,” Spider mutters under his breath

  “Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing,” I say decisively. “We need eyes and ears on the guy. Anyone crazy enough to hold doctors and nurses hostage when they’re in the middle of surgery is volatile enough to shoot the place up. The only question is, what’s motivating this guy?”

  The car’s quiet as Max, Lady, and I head to University Hospital. I leave Spider at the compound to deal with the small crew of coroner’s assistants and cops who are packing up to leave. Even though I debate bringing him to get us a visual into the operating room, Turner assures me there are plenty of techs there who can get the job done. It’s only a matter of turning the cameras on without the gunman noticing. Spider will join us when he clears the building and locks up.

  The hospital is in a state of chaos when we arrive. I swear, I’ve seen more madness since I’ve retired than when I was employed as a detective. The parking lot is a sea of squad cars, SWAT team members and cops milling around, news reporters, and the obligatory rubberneckers that always show up.

  The crush of vehicles fills the parking lot to capacity, making it difficult to get in. I look in my rearview mirror and eye Lady as I lay out her job. “Take pictures of the crowd and get a panoramic view. You never know when a suspect is inserting themselves into a crime scene, so take nothing for granted.”

  “Yeah, Max was filling me in on that earlier.”

  “Also, whenever you come to a crime scene the FBI agents are usually already here, so always meet up with them first and get the down low. The FBI are a prickly bunch, but as long as they feel like they’re running things they’re okay.”

  I finally manage to park and we get out and walk over to Agents Turner and Murphy. She addresses me as soon as we reach them. “I was able to do some fact finding on the way over and it seems the hostage taker is somehow related to the doctor. Get this – the nurse said it was like looking into Liam’s eyes and if she hadn’t been able to get a glimpse through the viewing pane in the door, she never would have believed it herself—seems Liam has a long lost twin—a long lost, crazy twin.”

  I feel the relief roll over Max in waves. I understand no one wants to feel like they’ve been betrayed by someone they thought of as a friend, and as an investigator I’m sure she prides herself on reading people. As it stands now, this development opens up a whole new slate of questions to be answered. The implications of Chambers having an identical twin are mind boggling.

  “Is the hostage negotiator here yet?”

  “He is and we’ve also got audio and visual. Here, take a look.” I eye the tablet she has in her hand and I have to agree with the nurse, if I wasn’t seeing what I’m seeing right now, I wouldn’t believe it either. It’s the same man we have on surveillance placing a severed head on our gate, in fact at first glance it looks like there are two of them – until you see that one of them has a black eye, compliments of Lady Luck.

  Max scoots in to get a closer look. I know she doesn’t seem him romantically, that they’re only friends, but I know she still wants to believe the best about him. I’m not sure how the news will sit with Spider, though. He seemed perfectly happy to think of Liam as a lying, conniving bastard. Maybe the jealousy will work in his favor and get him to make his intentions about Max known. I learned long ago that if you want to get the woman, you have to make your move. And there’s no place for subtlety in those moments.

  I can hear Max’s sigh of relief from over my shoulder. “Thank God, I wasn’t dating a killer.”

  “Yeah, that’s great, Max, but we’ve got more serious problems than that so get your head back in the game,” I say sternly. I’ve got bigger problems than her love life to contend with. “There’s a patient on that table in there who has no idea that he is in mortal peril at the hands of a real whack job. If we don’t defuse this situation, we’re looking at not only the doctor’s and nurses’ lives being in danger, but a man who has nothing to do with any of this dying for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  As crazy as this situation is, I have to admit I’m glad to find out Liam isn’t the serial killer. Max wouldn’t be the only one disappointed to have misread someone. The guilt would run deep if I’d have missed something like that and Max had been hurt. But an innocent patient dying during a breach in hospital security isn’t going to go over well with the public so we’ve got to stay focused on the matter at hand. I look down at my phone when it vibrates with an incoming call.

  “What’s up, Spider?”

  “Hey, things have pretty much cleared out here. How’s it going there?”

  “You won’t believe it. Get down here, I’ll bring you up to speed when you’re on site. But trust me, we’re just getting started, my man, just getting started.”

  Chapter Fifty Six

  Max

  I do my best to listen in on my boss’ phone call and wonder if I’m doing it out of curiosity or because I know it’s Spider on the other end of the line. I hate that I even care. Jack ends the call and directs his attention to the hostage negotiator who’s huddled with him as they speak in hushed tones. Now, why the hell is Jack looking at me while the guy’s talking to him?

  I find out when I hear my boss growl in his direction.

  “I don’t give a damn what he’s demanding. No way in hell am I sending her in there. She’s a damn blogger, she’s not trained in hostage negotiations. That’s your fucking job, last time I checked.”

  My heart begins to race when I realize the killer, the man who thinks he’s bonded to me, wants me in that room with him. He wants to meet with me to tell his side of the story. As delusional as this guy is, I have to admit that I’m in a unique position to get through to him. I have to step up. I straighten my shoulders and stride over to Jack.

  “Jack, I’ve got this. Just think about it,” I say quickly as he tries to interrupt, “I think he’ll talk to me. I don’t know if he trusts me exactly, but he feels connected to me. He knows I wouldn’t usually do something like this, so he’ll appreciate the gesture and think we’re taking him seriously. If facing him and giving him a chance to speak his mind will save lives, I want to do it.”

  Jack seems to have aged since we arrived on the scene, the lines that frame his mouth more pronounced than usual. But what really
concerns me is that I’m seeing something in his eyes that I’ve never seen before—fear.

  Chapter Fifty Seven

  His Directive

  “Yes, Detective, I want my little crime blogger in here, she should be with me. Here’s how this works: I talk to her, up close and personal, or I don’t talk. And if I don’t talk, no one lives. Have her bring in a notebook and a pen so she can write my story down. I want the public to know the truth about me, that I’m not some monster who cuts people up for absolutely no reason.”

  I can see the confusion on my brother’s face as I end the call. No doubt he’s wondering who this blogger is that I’m making such a fuss about. He really has no idea. Oh, this is going to be fun.

  For years he’s been the one in control, now it’s my turn. And best of all, I’m going to show the world that he isn’t the saint he’s portrayed himself as. He’s no fucking better than I am. He just hides behind his medical degree while society overlooks me like I’m street trash. It isn’t fair.

  “Hurry the fuck up and get that guy sewed up, it’s time for me to tell my side of the story.”

  Chapter Fifty Eight

  Max

  My hands are shaking as I step haltingly down the long hallway that leads to the OR. I’m being escorted to automatic doors that will lead me back to the operating room. I hug the blue notebook in an effort to calm myself. I don’t want to project anything but ease when I meet this guy face to face. He’s already on the edge and I may be the only one who can keep him from going over and taking everyone in that room with him.

  I slip my hand in my jacket pocket and silence my phone. I don’t want to be in there with no connection to the outside world. It gives me an odd sense of comfort and I find that I want so badly to feel safe right now. I struggle to get my breathing under control, struggling not to hyperventilate as I get closer to the door.