The Leah Ryan Thrillers Box Set: Three Chiller Thrillers (Repo Chick Blues #1, Finding Chloe #2, Dirty Business #3) (Leah Ryan Thrillers Box Set, Books 1-3)

by Tracy Sharp

  Jack raised his eyebrows. “Oh, no kidding. Nikos’. Okay. That’s you.”

  Nicholas nodded. “Right. It’s what my dad always called me. He passed away a couple of years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” I told him. “Were you close?”

  He shrugged. “We were but we had our moments, though.”

  A pang went through my chest as I thought of my own father, who gave up on me after I was sent to Juvee hall. He’d had more than enough grief by that point, and my car stealing stunt had been the straw that had broken the camel’s back. He died before I could make it right. Something that haunted me now and then, as I felt it should. My way of cleansing myself through suffering maybe, I didn’t know.

  “I always wondered about that gym. I’ll have to hit it some time,” Jack said. “I’ve been meaning to think about joining one.”

  Nicholas chuckled. “Yeah, meaning to think about it you and ninety percent of the world. There would be a hell of a lot less health problems if more people did join gyms.”

  It was clear that this guy slept, breathed and ate health. I wondered if he made suggestions to his sister about healthy eating while pregnant.

  “What’s bugging you Nick?” Jack asked, resting his forearms on his legs and clasping his hands.

  Nicholas sat forward on the sofa. “I got a bad feeling about this whole thing. I mean, of course, my sister is missing. I’d have a bad feeling. But there’s something bothering me about Garrett.”

  “We could tell last night that you’re not his biggest fan,” I said. “Why is that?”

  Nicholas barked out a short, humorless laugh. “I know he’s been cheating on my sister. He’s been doing it for a while now.”

  “What makes you say that?” Jack asked him.

  “I saw him out with a woman on a night he was supposed to be working. He left my mother’s Thanksgiving dinner early, saying he had to work. I was driving to pick up my girlfriend a couple of hours later and spotted him with a tiny brunette in his car, nowhere near the hospital.”

  “Did he see you?” I asked.

  “If he did, he acted like he didn’t.”

  “Nice,” I said, thinking of my own cravings for a man other than my fiancé. I wasn’t much better. I felt like a hypocrite being pissed off at Garrett Clemmons.

  “Yeah. Real nice.” Nick’s face was stony.

  “Did you tell your sister about this?” Jack asked him.

  “No. I didn’t want to hurt her. She was so happy. She gushed about him all the time. My mother thought the world of him. Still does, I think, although that’s fading a little.”

  “Did Garrett make it home yet?” I asked.

  Nicholas shook his head. “If he has, he hasn’t called us. And clearly he hasn’t called you.”

  “No. He hasn’t.” Jack narrowed his eyes. “You think he was in France with this other woman?”

  Nick nodded. “You bet I do.”

  Jack and I glanced at each other. An affair could be motive for making a pregnant wife vanish.

  I hoped to hell that wasn’t the case, because there weren’t any good endings to that scenario. Not a one.

  * * *

  We drove by the Clemmons’ residence to find that the good doctor wasn’t yet home. We checked the online schedules for flights coming in from France. One had come in three hours ago. The next one wasn’t for another four hours.

  At noon it had been twenty-four hours since Alexia Clemmons had failed to show up to the lunch and movie date with her mother. I found myself getting more pissed off at the police as time ticked by. Alexia wasn’t at all like somebody who would just take off on her own and not tell anyone. She was rapidly approaching full term in her pregnancy. She was overjoyed about becoming a mother. She was fine financially, unless there were money problems in the marriage, which there was no evidence of yet. She was madly in love with her cheating bastard of a husband. It just didn’t add up that she’d leave of her own volition and not tell anyone. Not tell her mother, who she was extremely close to.

  Even if the opposite were true for all of these facts, even if she’d found out about Garrett’s alleged girlfriend, and had taken off in a rage. Being eight months pregnant would leave her feeling constantly vulnerable. It was almost certain that she’d have stayed with her mother and brother, where she’d have felt protected.

  It made me absolutely sick to think of the possibility that Garrett could’ve made his wife and unborn baby disappear. That he could be like men who had made headlines in recent years for killing their pregnant wives to relieve themselves of the responsibility of being a husband and father, both emotionally and financially. But the possibility was there. I wouldn’t yet allow myself to think that it might be a probability yet. I wasn’t emotionally ready to take that thought on.

  Another dark possibility had been trying to creep into my mind, and I’d kept shoving it away. I knew Jack had already considered it. In the past decade, incidents of infant abductions and attempted infant abductions had been on the rise at an alarming rate. It wasn’t out of the question that somebody had abducted Alexia and was keeping her somewhere so that they could take her baby from her after she gave birth. Although the idea was horrible, the glimmer of hope that she was still alive kept me from going into a panic. I despaired that this would be a case that would rip the heart out of me, leaving me a shaking, useless wreck for months.

  It had happened to me before. Not so long ago, in fact. I felt barely recovered from it, and had gone through black moments when I thought I never would. And also times when I wondered if it were wrong to recover from it. An innocent young girl had been murdered on my watch and would never be okay again. What gave me the privilege of being okay ever again? Jack and Callahan helped me pull through that one. Callahan had sat up with me, sitting far enough away that I would have space, that I could breathe. Had just been with me so that I knew I wasn’t alone. He’d stuck with me, when any sane man would’ve had enough. Any would’ve run screaming. He’d stood by me, day after day, during the darkest, most horrible moments of my life when I wondered if it were really worth going on. When I had those images burned in my mind, images that would never, ever go away. When, long weeks of even trying to drink them away hadn’t worked.

  He was faithful, loyal, and brave. He was absolutely the best thing that had ever happened to me aside from Jack.

  And I knew I didn’t deserve him.

  I might just lose him because of this damned case.

  And still, I wouldn’t walk away from it.

  I turned to Jack, who was driving us to St. Catharine’s Hospital where Garrett performed his miracles. Where anyone around must look at him with a sense of awe for his talent and skill. The words God Complex flashed in my mind.

  Jack glanced at me, his face concerned. “What’s up, Kicks?”

  “Why did you drag me into this one, Jack? Really? Why?”

  “Because, Leah you were dying inside. The only time I ever see you really alive is when you’re doing something that matters to you. Something, that sets a fire under your ass.”

  “But this one could be the death of me.” I looked at him. “It’s dangerous for me, Jack.”

  “Ah, but when you’re smack in the middle of a shit storm,” Jack winked at me. “That’s when you’re living.”

  * * *

  The hospital was like any other, antiseptic and cold feeling. I felt like running out of there. Sick people went to hospitals. Christ knew what we were subjecting ourselves to.

  “Why would somebody want to work in a hospital anyway?” I muttered, really not wanting to be there. “You could catch anything going around.”

  “Maybe they like helping people,” Jack said as we approached the woman behind a clear, plastic barrier.

  I sighed. “Oh, right. That.”

  “Yeah, you’re nothing like that. You hate helping people.” Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “You kill me, Leah.”

  I took a breath. Let it out. “Yeah, yeah.”r />
  We stood in front of the reception counter. I still wanted to flee.

  Jack smiled at the receptionist. “Doctor Garrett Clemmons’ office, please.”

  “Fifth floor,” she said, not taking her eyes off her computer.

  “Thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “I see what you mean, awfully helpful. I feel all warm and fuzzy now.”

  “Should’ve shaved your legs.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  He tilted his head at me. “What do you want? The red carpet treatment?”

  “No. Just acknowledgement of our existence would be nice.” I was feeling cranky and I couldn’t seem to help it. Jack is used to my moods and rolls with them.

  “She did tell us his office was on the fifth floor,” he said.

  “Right.” We approached the elevators and I resisted the urge to kick my leg up and hit the Up button with my foot.

  “I’ll get it.” Jack shook his head. “Jesus, Kicks. Do you carry a hand sanitizer around in your purse too?”

  “Yes, In fact I do. And you should too.” I’d be bathing in the stuff as soon as we left the building.

  The elevator opened to a large, half-moon desk with several young women working behind it. Two of the three smiled at Jack, one looked him in the eye. Jack is a big boy. He has a ruggedly handsome face. Women tend to respond well to him. Within moments they are usually giggling.

  He nodded once. The effect was like a cowboy hat being tipped. “Ladies, is Doctor Garrett Clemmons working today?”

  “No, he’s off for the week,” a cute brunette with a ponytail told him. Her eyes were large and chocolate brown. “He had an important convention to go to.”

  She was a looker. I wondered if Garrett could resist this one. Perhaps she had been the one to resist him. “Does he have an administrative assistant we can talk to?”

  “She’s gone with him.” This was a sandy blonde with a bit of an attitude.

  “That’s Vicky. She always goes to his conventions with him now,” the brunette, whose nametag read Tamara, said.

  “Really. When are they expected back?” Jack said.

  “Monday.”

  “Does he go to a lot of those?” I asked. “Conventions?”

  “Yeah.” The cutie said. “They do.”

  They do.

  The girls looked away, pretended to busy themselves.

  “They?” I asked. “Who? Nurses? Medical assistants?”

  “Sure,” the blonde, her tag reading Amanda, said. She looked at me, then Jack, then back to me again. “And you two are?”

  “Private investigators,” I said, giving her a level gaze. “We’ve been called to look into the disappearance of Dr. Clemmons’ wife.”

  All the girls, including a black haired girl who had remained silent, stared, their eyes large.

  “No,” the black haired girl said. She was beautiful and tawny in complexion, her almond shaped eyes suddenly fearful. “She was just here a couple of days ago. She came to meet Dr. Clemmons for lunch. They go to lunch sometimes.”

  “That’s great. Just perfect.” Amanda rolled her eyes.

  “What is?” Jack asked her.

  “Don’t, Amanda.” Tamara glared at her. “It’s nobody’s business but theirs.”

  “What’s nobody’s business?” I asked.

  The girls were all silent, looking anywhere but at us.

  I was getting impatient and starting to feel mean. “Look ladies, whatever information you have that you might think is irrelevant may end up saving her life.”

  The black haired girl fiddled with her name tag, which I thought read Gina, but it was hard to read the letters from in between her nervous fingers. She looked down, then up at us. “Dr. Clemmons is a lady’s man. He has a new girlfriend every few months. Sometimes he sees more than one at a time.”

  “No kidding.” Jack placed his arms on the counter top and leaned in.

  “You’ve witnessed this?” I asked her. “Dr. Clemmons with other women?”

  “We all have,” Tamara said. “But Gina has more than witnessed it.”

  “Really.” I looked at Gina, who was back to looking at the counter top.

  “I was the one he was taking to conventions last year,” she said. “In the summer time.”

  “You knew what he was like?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “I’d heard rumors, but I was new, and he was paying so much attention to me. He made me feel special.”

  “He makes them all feel special,” Amanda said.

  “You too,” Jack asked her.

  “Hell, no,” Amanda looked offended, “definitely not my type.”

  “Waaaay not her type,” Tamara said, giggling.

  Amanda cracked a grin in spite of herself.

  “In fact, you’re more her type,” Tamara said to me. “Isn’t that right, Mandy?”

  Amanda looked at me, her grin getting bigger. “Well, yeah, actually.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m flattered,” I said.

  Amanda shrugged, her face flushing. “Sure.”

  “So who is the flavor of the month, then?” Jack asked. “Vicky?”

  “Yeah,” Gina said, “one of his medical assistants.”

  * * *

  We stopped for lunch at a pub we frequent, The Lucky Charm. As I sucked down the last of a chocolate shake, The Lucky Charm is known far and wide for their shakes, my cell phone rang.

  “Ms. Ryan?”

  Although the screen said “private number”, I knew by some odd instinct who it was, the way a person sometimes gets up to answer the phone before it rings. “Yes?”

  “Garrett Clemmons here,” He sounded remarkably calm for a man whose wife had gone missing without a trace the day before.

  “I’m glad you called, Dr. Clemmons.”

  “Have you found my wife yet?”

  I thought this an odd question. If she’d been found, he’d have been one of the first to know. “No, we haven’t been so lucky. Can we come over to your house and speak with you, Doctor? We have some questions we need to ask you to help us find her.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m a little bit jet lagged, as you can imagine, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you find her.” He paused. “I love her.”

  “Right.” I made a face to Jack, conveying my thoughts on the Doctor’s odd comments. He lifted his eyebrows.

  “Okay, then,” I said. “We’ll be there shortly. We have the address.”

  He paused. “Thank you.”

  I ended the call and gave Jack a ‘what the hell’ look.

  “What?” he asked. “Not acting like a worried husband?”

  “Not really.” I sucked at the straw, getting nothing more from the bottom of the milkshake glass. I sighed and pushed the glass away. “But then, he’s jet lagged, you understand.”

  Jack chuckled. “Oh, well. That explains it. Poor guy.”

  “I imagine that flying halfway across the world and spending your spare time tagging your medical assistant is exhausting, never mind the jet lag.” I pulled on my jacket as Jack grabbed his truck keys. “Now this is getting interesting.”

  “I thought it might,” Jack said.

  We pulled into his long driveway twenty minutes later. The house was on the outskirts of town, on the Hudson River. It was a gorgeous view, even though many of the tree’s branches were bare. Soon enough the river would be covered in ice and snow, and would be stunning to look at.

  We went up to the house, white with blue shutters and a large porch. Jack rang the bell. We saw the warped silhouette of Dr. Clemmons in the artfully cut glass of the oval window in the door. He opened the door in dark blue jeans and a navy turtleneck. He was good looking, blonde hair streaked with a little premature gray, and Nordic features. His eyes were a clear, light blue.

  “Thanks so much for coming. You found the house all right?” he stood to the side, allowing us entry.

  “Oh, we were here yesterday.” Jack and I stood in the large entryway watching Clemmons’ face.


  He blinked. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “Alexia’s mother gave us the spare key. She wanted us to be able to pick up on any clues to Alexia’s disappearance as soon as possible. Time is everything right now, Doctor.”

  “Right.” He looked at me, his eyes moving up and down the length of me, leaving me feeling like I’d been thoroughly assessed as a female specimen. His eyes lingered on my black boots. “Were you able to find anything?” Then he added, “Helpful?”

  “No, unfortunately not,” I said. “But you know this house much better than we do. Was anything out of place? Did anything seem strange or off to you?”

  “The only thing that has been a little off is Alexia,” he said. “Come in.” He led us to the living room. “Have a seat. Can I offer you some coffee? A soda?”

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  “We just ate lunch,” Jack added. “Alexia has been off?”

  “Yes. At first I thought it was just pregnancy hormones, but now I think it might’ve been something more.”

  “Oh?” I asked him.

  “I think she’s been seeing someone.”

  I almost laughed out loud. A woman eight months pregnant is not likely to be traipsing around having affairs. She has other things on her mind, and her body certainly isn’t craving hot, passionate sex. At least that would be my guess.

  “What makes you think so?” I asked him.

  “A feeling, more than anything else, I guess. But she just wasn’t happy or content. She’d take off for hours at a time. Once, about a month ago, she didn’t come home all night. She wouldn’t tell me where she’d been, and I didn’t press. I figured that if she was seeing somebody else, there wasn’t much I could do about it. And if she wanted to leave me, she would. We’d just have to work things out financially and,” he lifted his hands, gesturing to the house around us. “Living arrangements, of course.”

  Jack and I exchanged glances. Seemed as if Dr. Clemmons pretty much had it all worked out.

  This wasn’t the Alexia described by her mother or brother. According to them, she was happy and content. Could she have been covering up her feelings so that she wouldn’t worry them?