Endgame (Last Chance Series)

by Dee Davis

  "Hey, you still with me?" Tracy's voice penetrated his ruminations, and with a wry grin, he pulled his attention back to the present.

  "Jet lag. Sorry."

  "No problem." She shrugged, expertly cutting open the abdomen to reveal internal organs. "I'm just glad you're here. Seems the death toll is rising."

  "Looks like she met with the wrong end of a knife." Gabe tilted his head toward the wound. "Cullen said she'd been robbed?"

  Tracy nodded, her braids swaying with the motion. "I'm guessing post mortem. That's when she was stabbed."

  "You certain?" Gabe frowned, digesting the new information.

  "Absolutely. Body temperature combined with lack of blood loss makes it a sure thing. If this had been a mortal wound it would have bled like the dickens. But there was hardly any blood on the body at all, and according to the forensics folks, very little at the scene. My guess is someone found the body, and after making certain she was dead, stripped off her valuables."

  "So you got any idea what did kill her?"

  "Single shot. Back of the head." Tracy put down her scalpel and reached for a plastic tray behind her. Using forceps, she picked up a bullet from the tray, holding it up for Gabe to see. "Hollow point. Whoever the killer was, the guy meant business."

  Gabe took the forceps, examining the tiny lump of metal. "I'd say that changes the rules of the game a bit."

  "Ups the ante, if I had to call it." Tracy's somber gaze met his.

  "Whatever this is about, I'd say it's coming to a head."

  Which meant he needed to get back to the operations room, to discuss this newest information with Madison and the team. It was time to put her profiling to the test. They needed to discover who was behind the attacks—before someone else wound up dead.

  *****

  "SO YOU THINK Alan Stewart was murdered." Harrison sat across from Nigel at the conference room table eating an Egg McMuffin. The table was cluttered with the residue of the rest of his breakfast, including a hash brown wrapper and the styrofoam container for pancakes. The man ate like a horse and never showed an ounce of it.

  Madison pushed the hair out of her face, wishing she'd stopped to take a shower before coming to the operations room, but Cullen had demanded they come posthaste, and so, despite her exhaustion, here she was. If Gabriel Roarke could keep going, then by God, so could she.

  "Madison, are you listening?" Harrison was frowning, his brows drawn together to form a line, all semblance of the boy next door vanishing with the motion.

  "Sorry. I guess I'm more tired than I thought." To emphasize the point she yawned, then smiled ruefully. "You were asking about Alan Stewart, right?"

  Harrison nodded.

  "One of the first on the scene was a cardiologist. He believes Stewart had some kind of cardiac event. Combined with Aston's and Smith's cause of death, I think it's a definite possibility that Alan Stewart was injected, as well."

  "But you don't have any physical proof." This from Nigel who had moved to stand by the window.

  "No. But we were planning to contact the widow to obtain permission for an exhumation. That way Tracy could prove the presence of potassium chloride. But in light of Candace Patterson's apparent murder, it may prove unnecessary."

  "Same for Luther Macomb," Harrison said. "Which is probably just as well, as I suspect it's a dead end anyway. The scrap metal from the car is probably part of a hundred different machines by now."

  "We can add Jacob Dashal to the confirmed list." Payton Reynolds spoke up from the corner where he'd pulled something off the fax machine. "This is forensic verification that the saw was tampered with." He waved the paper for emphasis. "The man's electrocution was definitely not an accident."

  "Which means we're at three confirmed murders, two that seem likely, and one that fits the pattern but without evidence of foul play." Madison glanced over at the white board and the black-and-white photos of the deceased. Real people. All dead.

  "Make that four confirmed."

  Madison jumped at the sound of Gabriel's voice, wishing again that she'd grabbed a shower. Not that she cared what he thought, it's just that dueling with him took a lot of energy, and at the moment, she felt as if she'd slept in a bus depot. Which wasn't far from the truth.

  What she really needed was a way to erase the last twelve hours, or at least the part she'd spent in liplock with the man. What in the world had she been thinking? Fortunately, he seemed prepared to pretend the whole thing never happened, which suited her just fine.

  "Candace Patterson was shot in the head." Gabriel's words jerked her out of her reverie.

  "Do you have ballistics?" she asked.

  "Just a slug. Hollow point. Tracy's folks are running it for ID. But I doubt she finds anything. The whole thing smells like a hit."

  "Which is yet another change in M.O." Harrison pushed away the last of his food. "So where does that leave us?"

  "Trying to establish a link between the victims." Madison leaned forward, reviewing the facts listed on the white board.

  "I thought we'd all agreed that the accord was the common link." Nigel turned a chair around and straddled it, crossing his arms on the back.

  "There are a lot of people working on the accord, Nigel," Madison said. "But not all of them are being targeted. It's important for us to establish why these particular people were chosen."

  "Which brings us to their role in the accord," Gabriel added. "Harrison, what have you got?"

  "Not as much as I'd like." He shrugged and picked up a piece of paper. "The first three men killed—Aston, Macomb and Stewart—were all members of the business consortium, but not members of the board. Their key activity with the accord seems to be that they all served on the steering committee."

  "Pre-accord you mean," Payton clarified, his words as usual barely audible.

  "Exactly." Harrison nodded. "Barnes also served on the steering committee, but unlike the other three, he went on to serve on the consortium board, and in addition was the first chair of the active delegation meeting with the Chinese."

  "So the initial murders might have been an attempt to retard the process, and when that failed, they attempted to take out a major player," Nigel said.

  "Except that this has been a team effort from the beginning. With Barnes out of the picture, his second in command, Jacob Dashal took over."

  "Until his untimely death and Bingham Smith stepped in." Gabriel, too, was turning Harrison's information over in his head.

  "That's where the first deviation occurs," Harrison continued. "Interestingly enough, Smith had no involvement in the planning of the accord—his job was simply to negotiate. He'd had private dealings with the Chinese for years, and so this was par-for-the-course for him, but his involvement appears to be mainly at the behest of Cullen Pulaski."

  "Meaning what, he wasn't interested in the success of the accord?" Payton was pacing in front of the window as if the movement helped him think.

  "From a political standpoint he stood to gain a great deal. Economically, however, it would have been a wash for him."

  "And he was on the board," Madison said, beginning to see a new pattern.

  "Yes." Harrison nodded. "The third board member to die. A double hit if you will, because as with Barnes's, Dashal's and Smith's deaths, not only did his death have an effect on the accord, but on the consortium itself."

  "So the change in strategy might be related to more than just the accord." Gabriel met Harrison's gaze across the table.

  "Hard to say definitively, but it's something to consider."

  "What about Candace Patterson? How does she fit in?" Nigel was leaning so far over the chair it was in danger of tipping.

  "Another deviation. She was neither on the original steering committee nor on the board. But Cullen had tapped her to fill Smith's vacancy on the negotiation team."

  "What's her expertise?" Madison asked, caught up in Harrison's speculation.

  "She's fluent in eight Chinese dialects. Studied abroad
and worked for two years as a missionary. Since returning to the U.S. she's worked for Lexco, first heading up their Asian division, and then moving to corporate. She was recently promoted to VP, and became active in the consortium only when Lexco decided to get on board with the talks for the accord."

  "So what we're looking at is an escalation in pattern," Madison mused. "We start with practically untraceable murders in the very beginning stage of talks about a possible economic accord with China. When those fail to derail plans, the targets change, and people higher up the ladder begin to die. But again there is little impact on the accord itself."

  "Everyone, it seems, is expendable, and as people die, they're replaced without question," Harrison continued, expanding on her thoughts.

  "Except Cullen," Gabriel added, glancing at Madison, his message clear.

  "Which is interesting in and of itself, but we'll examine that later," Nigel said, cutting in on the conversation. "The point you're making here is that as the accord gains popularity and moves closer to reality, the importance of the targets grows."

  "Not only that, the M.O. for murder becomes more haphazard." Madison blew out a breath, trying to quantify her thoughts. "What began as a carefully orchestrated campaign, something almost undetectable, gradually begins to unravel until our most recent victim is killed in cold blood."

  "But surely it was made to look like a robbery," Nigel said.

  "If Tracy is to be believed that's pure coincidence," Gabriel answered. "A case of the body being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  "Which leaves us with a desperate enemy," Payton said, cutting to the heart of the matter.

  "Does anyone know what the Chinese reaction has been to the latest murders?" Harrison had risen to stand behind his chair, his hands gripping the back.

  "I don't know that there's been time for them to understand the ramifications of Candace Patterson's death," Madison said. "But according to the media, Bingham Smith's death, accident or no, has caused something of a stir."

  "The Chinese won't like the two murders happening so close together." Payton stood by the window, his face in silhouette, his scar highlighted in the light. "They'll view them as omens of bad fortune."

  "Which might mean our killer has achieved his goal." Harrison's tone was thoughtful.

  "No." Madison shook her head. "Whoever is behind this won't stop until he's certain the accord is dead—if killing the accord is in fact his objective."

  "Of course it's the objective. Harrison just spent the last fifteen minutes proving it." Nigel had obviously had enough of their deliberations, clearly preferring action to talk.

  "I'm not saying it isn't." Madison raised her hands in defense. "I'm just saying that it's a little early to declare anything absolutely."

  "Seven murders is pretty damning, don't you think?" Nigel's voice was clipped, even for a Brit.

  "Look, Nigel, she's only saying we need to tread cautiously here. Not jump to any conclusions. We need to wait until we have all the facts."

  Madison tried not to show her surprise. Gabriel was defending her. Something was definitely out of kilter with the universe.

  "Right." Nigel nodded once, agreeing. "But in the meantime, I say we need to identify possible suspects. Groups that stand to gain should the accord fail."

  "Easier said than done." Gabriel's expression was grim. "There are any number of organizations, on both sides of the law, that would be happy to see economic harmony between Chinese and American business go the way of the eight-track. Narrowing it down to one won't be easy."

  "I might be able to help," Harrison offered, looking pleased with himself. "It's too early to say for certain, but I think I've got a lock on the originating IP used to hack into our system last night."

  "You've identified who it was?" Payton actually looked excited. Or as excited as Madison assumed he ever got.

  "Hold on," Harrison said, shaking his head. "I didn't say that. I said I have a fix on the Internet address. Unfortunately those things can be used in relay, and it'll take me a while to verify the source."

  "And even then you won't be able to say with certainty who was operating the computer." Payton leaned back against the windowsill, his casual stance at odds with the intensity of his gaze.

  "Maybe not an actual user, but a computer. And from there it's usually possible to narrow down the odds."

  "Good," Gabriel said. "Keep hunting. Right now it's our best chance. And in the meantime, we need to find out what we can about any enemies of the accord. Payton, you've got contacts in Asia. See what they know. Nigel, you and I will work on Lexco. Maybe there's something about Candace Patterson we don't know."

  "And me?" Madison wished the words back almost as soon as she'd said them, hating the way they made her sound.

  Gabriel's smile indicated he'd followed her train of thought and was amused. "Besides working on a profile for our killer, why don't you talk to Cullen and his cronies? I want to know which players left in the game hold the power. And more importantly, I want to know exactly what Cullen's involvement in this process has been, starting with Frederick Aston and moving right through to Candace Patterson. We know he was involved immediately following Stewart's murder. I want to know if he was involved with the others. And you, Madison, are just the person to find out."

  From anyone else it would have been a compliment. But Gabriel didn't do praise. From him it was a gauntlet, a goading challenge to find out what exactly her godfather was up to, how deeply he was involved. And if she'd truly believed in his innocence, Gabriel's challenge wouldn't have bothered her.

  But it did.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "JANICE STEWART NEEDED peace. It was as simple as that." Cullen leaned against the windowsill in his office, watching Madison, trying to ascertain the impetus behind her questions. "She was walking a fine line and I didn't want to push her over the edge."

  "But according to Dr. Martin, there was some question as to cause of death."

  "At the time it seemed likely that the fall killed him. And even if I'd suspected a heart attack, I wouldn't have had reason to believe there'd been foul play. Not then. The sheriff was convinced that it was an accident. And even Dr. Martin didn't suspect anything nefarious. So I told Janice to bury her husband." Cullen shrugged and picked up a pencil, twirling it between his fingers. "I wish to hell I'd done it differently, but it's not like I can go back and change it."

  "So why didn't you tell me?" There was a note of doubt in her voice. A niggle of worry made him wish he'd left her out of this. Maybe she was too good—saw too much.

  "I didn't think about it. I mean really, Madison, it's not exactly earth-shattering news."

  "It depends on how you look at it, I suppose." She sat back, her eyes narrowed in thought. "You're the one who started this investigation, after all. So I guess it seems a bit surprising to find out that you actually did something to hinder our chances of finding the truth, and then, conveniently, forgot to share the fact."

  "You're making more of it than necessary. I'm not the enemy. And my telling Janice Stewart she didn't have to subject her husband's body to an autopsy is hardly cause for concern. In hindsight it turns out it would have been helpful, but there was no way I could have known it at the time." He watched her face, relieved to see her relax.

  "I'm sorry to be such a pest about this." Her smile was apologetic. "But Gabriel was concerned, and—"

  "And sent you in to handle the old man?" Cullen cut her off with an answering smile.

  "Something like that." She shrugged.

  "So what do you think of Gabriel Roarke?" Cullen sat down behind his desk. It was time for a change of subject, and Gabriel seemed just the ticket.

  "He's a bit arrogant."

  "An understatement surely, but he's good at what he does and his attitude only contributes to that success."

  "How did you first get to know him?" Madison sat back in her chair, her fingers tightening on the arms. It seemed his goddaughter was not immune
to Gabriel's charms. Or perhaps she simply couldn't abide working with the man. Either was a possibility and would most likely lead to the same conclusion. At least he hoped it would.

  "When he was in Delta Force, he was assigned to a mission I commanded."

  "Come again? You were never in the army."

  "Maybe commanded is too strong a word. But it was my mission nevertheless. A man in my employ got stuck behind the wrong border during the first war with Iraq. He was captured and held hostage. The official U.S. stance on the matter was, of course, that we don't negotiate for hostages. But I needed him out, and with a little cajoling, the powers that be agreed to a rescue effort."

  "And Gabriel headed the team."

  "Exactly." Cullen nodded. "He was the leader of a black ops group referred to as Logistical Command, the kind of men who are called in when all else fails. In fact, they used to refer to themselves as Last Chance, Inc."

  "And your man was last chance status?"

  "Unfortunately, yes. I'd tried every other avenue, and nothing could be done. Gabriel and his men were my last option."

  "And did they succeed?"

  "Yes," he said. "But not without cost. My man got out alive, but the others weren't so lucky. Eight of them went in. Only three came out."

  She stared down at her hands, digesting the information and then looked up to meet his gaze. "Payton and Nigel were part of the team, as well."

  "Nigel was serving as an adjunct to Delta Force at the time, and Payton was part of Gabriel's team."

  "And that's why he asked them here. To be a part of your latest last-ditch effort."

  "I suppose so. All I know is that I'd trust Gabriel with my life."

  "You might have to." She stood up and walked over to the credenza, picking up a photograph, one of her when she was about twelve. "Why me?"

  He considered deliberately misunderstanding the question, then thought better of it. Madison would see right through it. "I thought you'd add something to the mix. Gabriel is sort of a wild card, shooting from the hip, so to speak. He's good, but I thought you'd provide much-needed balance."