Julia eyed him suspiciously but reluctantly walked back to the car.
“What’s up?” Shawn asked.
“What will you do with the blood sample?” Eli asked.
“Well, first we need to determine if there is adequate DNA material to provide a profile.”
“If you do find a DNA profile, I need you to compare it with Heller’s DNA. See if it’s a match or not.”
“Will do. What if it’s not a match?”
“It could confirm to me that the Hangman has a partner. There’s a gentleman in custody I’d like to compare it to—Ryder Dymond.”
“Do you have the documents needed for us to get Ryder’s DNA?”
“Not yet. Let’s see what you find. How long before you could come up with an answer?” Eli asked.
“When do you need it by?”
“How fast can you do it?”
“Life-and-death matter?” Shawn asked.
“Potentially.”
“I’ll put a rush on it—oversee it myself, but it’s still going to be a couple of days.”
Eli held out his hand. “I’d appreciate any help you can give me.”
What he hoped above all else was that his hunch was wrong. If Eli proved Ryder was the Hangman’s partner, it would assuage his concern that a member of his team was involved.
If the DNA wasn’t Ryder’s or Heller’s, then it opened up a whole other can of worms, and Eli would have to go to Quentin with his concerns about someone involved with Julia’s case also being connected with the threat against her life.
FIFTEEN
Eli was thankful for another peaceful night, but what he hadn’t shared with Julia was the fact that he wasn’t sleeping in his own room as she slept in the guest room. Even though he had a third-floor apartment and a security system, the easiest access point was his front door and that was where he’d been slumming at night in a sleeping bag. He maintained this guard position until the sun came up and then hid all the evidence of his sentry point in his bedroom before Julia emerged from the guest bedroom.
He didn’t want to confess to himself how much he enjoyed having Julia around, and in some ways, he wanted her case to remain unsolved—if only to continue to have these moments together. Sure, he’d had girlfriends, but no one breached the steel compartment around his heart quite the way Julia had. He began to grieve the thought of not having her in his life. What would Quentin think of him—falling for a witness under his care? Would his boss ever trust his judgment again?
Julia’s door cracked open. Denim jeans. A button-up white shirt and a simple scarf decorated with butterflies. Would she ever feel comfortable enough around him to leave her scars visible?
“Ready for tea?” Eli asked.
“Of course.” She settled on a bar stool.
“I scrambled some eggs. Toast, butter and jelly are waiting on the table.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No worries. We need to leave shortly. Ben’s going to meet us at the jail to have a go at Ryder. So far he hasn’t been very open with Aurora police.”
Julia scooped a spoonful of eggs into her mouth and made animated chewing motions and swallowed. “You should at least let me cook.”
“I should for all this one-on-one attention you’re getting.”
“Finally—being a protected witness is tolerable.”
Eli smirked. “How’d you like to be twenty-four-seven with Ben?”
“Not my idea of fun. I think I might boycott.”
“Well, we shouldn’t keep the FBI agent waiting. Or Mr. Dymond for that matter.”
They rode to the station together in silence. Eli was hopeful the day could bring a conclusion to the mysterious hit man case. Ryder was involved—even though criminals always professed innocence—the mere fact that Julia’s hit package had his fingerprints on it meant involvement on some level.
Eli positioned Julia in the observation room as he and Ben took opposite seats across from Ryder. The lowlife seemed to be trying to live up to his name. He wore a tank top cut from a short-sleeve shirt that revealed tattoos of diamonds on each shoulder. His face was haggard with a good two days’ worth of beard growth. That along with the long sideburns gave him a wild-eyed appearance.
“Mr. Dymond, thanks for agreeing to meet with us today,” Ben said.
“I just want to know when I’m getting out of here.”
“The more you cooperate with us, the more we’ll be able to help you. First, let’s talk about the hit package that was anonymously delivered to your parole officer. Who do you think gave it to him?”
“My wife. She’s trying to frame me,” Ryder said.
Eli leaned forward. Ryder was placing himself in the situation, though not directly. Clearly, it was a vain attempt at cover, considering that Ryder had been placed at the scene of the house explosion.
“Your wife put together this hit package on a woman you don’t know to try and frame you? That’s the story you’re floating out there?” Eli asked.
“I don’t know why Harper does half the things she does. You know...women. I just can’t read them very well.”
You and me both, brother.
“Okay, let’s assume that you’re not involved in a murder-for-hire plot. Do you know Julia Galloway?”
“I know of her,” Ryder confessed.
“In what capacity?” Eli asked.
Ryder tossed a glance Ben’s way. Did that have any meaning? Was Eli being too intense in his questioning? If so, it seemed that Ryder viewed Ben as the good cop—as someone he could align himself with for perhaps an easier interrogation.
Ben folded his hands together. A nonthreatening pose would help Ryder buy in to Ben as someone he could trust. “Any help you can give us would be greatly appreciated. It’s an innocent woman’s life on the line.”
“Is it?” Ryder asked.
Eli felt the tension in his hands threaten to curl his fingers into a fist. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He stood from the table. Maybe it was to imbibe the whole bad cop role with all he could muster.
Ryder put his cuffed hands up. “Just settle down. I just think not everyone is so innocent. We all have secrets that could probably get us into a heap of trouble if they were known.”
“Explain to us how you know Julia,” Ben said.
“Her picture is on the news like every single time they talk about the Hangman. Who doesn’t know Julia Galloway? And then the droning on and on about how she’s a pediatric nurse—like she doesn’t deserve anything bad happening to her. Why should she get a pass when bad things happen to everyone?”
“Has there been a death in your family, Ryder?” Eli asked.
His mouth fell open. Now it was almost as if Ryder forced himself not to look at Ben for support. “I had a nephew of mine die.”
“How long ago?” Eli asked.
Ryder shrugged one shoulder. “A couple of years back. I don’t see what it has to do with right now.”
“Your son, Miles, asked Julia if she’d ever taken care of his cousin. Was Julia involved in this child’s care?”
“I couldn’t say.”
Eli clenched his teeth, which made his headache worsen. “Do you know Dr. Heller?”
Ryder leaned his head back and groaned. “Like the same way I know Julia. The television. Can I get out of here?”
Eli grabbed the file folder that had been sitting in front of him on the dented, scratched metal table and pulled the surveillance photos from inside. “These snapshots were taken from a security camera near Julia Galloway’s house. Does this man look familiar to you?”
“Not to me.”
Eli tapped the paper. “Can you see the distinctive diamond tattoo this man has on his shoulder that’s very similar to yours?
”
“Coincidence.”
“The trouble, Mr. Dymond, is that your prints were found on the hit file. This photo places you at the scene moments before Julia Galloway’s neighbor’s house explodes that nearly killed a woman and her son.”
Eli was amazed at how quickly the blood drained from Ryder’s face. The deep black lines on his diamond tattoos appeared almost disembodied—the white color like chalk against the now pale skin.
Ryder’s next phrase was even more surprising. “It’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible?” Eli asked.
Ryder’s eyes rolled so far back in his head that Eli thought he was going to pass out and then he leveled a gaze at Ben. Was he done communicating with Eli?
“Because he said no one would be home—that the only dead people would be Julia and a few worthless agents.”
“Who said this to you?” Eli asked.
Now Ryder’s gaze bored into Eli. Ironically, not one of pure evil, but one of sadness. “The man who wants Julia Galloway dead.”
And yet you were still willing to murder innocent people.
“I needed the money,” Ryder confessed. “Killing Julia was a means to an end. A mutual means to an end.”
Eli should have been ecstatic. What slipped from Ryder’s lips was as close to an outright confession as Eli could hope for. The problem was this mysterious man was still out there and clearly a threat to Julia.
“Who is this man?” Ben asked.
Ryder’s laugh sent ice through Eli’s veins. Evil blossomed from a seed that was present in every human—it was the events in a person’s life that determined whether or not something sprouted. The only problem was—stopping that growth once it took hold was impossible.
“All I can say is that I hope he finishes his mission.” Ryder squared his eyes to the double mirror behind Eli, no doubt for Julia’s benefit, and slid his finger across his throat.
Eli’s blood became sludge, and a piercing pain spread through his chest. What were they up against? Could they stop the man who’d hired Ryder in time?
* * *
Julia wanted to vomit. Knowing someone existed—no, that more than one person existed whose objective in life was to see her dead made her want to head for the hills and hide in some apocalyptic bunker and not come out until the radiation from this toxic soup of revenge cleared. Eli and Ben exited the interrogation room. Ben left the observation room without even glancing her way. Eli stood against the closed door.
In his eyes was a cataclysm of fear and worry. There was no denying the attraction between them, but Ryder’s declaration seemed to solidify his resolve to keep an emotional distance.
What Julia’s mind begged for was Eli’s embrace—to feel that protective solitude his arms afforded her that she never experienced with any other man. To have his physical closeness.
Would this danger ever end?
Eli’s blue eyes circled the room and he raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to figure this out. Something will break.”
Julia turned in the chair she sat in and rested her head on her forearms. He pulled a chair up next to her and settled a hand on her back, which only made her start to cry. How could she feel so alone and yet so close to someone? Her world was upside down. She didn’t have a home. She couldn’t contact her grandfather without marking him with a bull’s-eye. Considering what had happened to the people around her so far, seeing him could end his life.
Having forced isolation made the losses Julia suffered more acute. What she wouldn’t give to sit in her mother’s kitchen sipping fresh lemonade as her mother baked a batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies—her mother’s cure for any ill that Julia suffered regardless of the time of year. To huddle into the side of her father and have him drape his arm over her shoulders—leaning in to kiss her hair.
So much of God was a mystery to her. In her mind, it made the most sense that God created the world. The intricacies of life were too much for her to believe in happenstance. And she believed that He had an active part in her life, but how much? Was it true that He controlled each and every breath? That He knew the count of the hairs on her head?
She heard a sigh escape Eli’s lips. She allowed the tears to flow down her cheeks. What did it matter if he saw her cry anyway? He’d seen her at her worst—in the depths of despair, loneliness and basically in the state of a drowned rat.
“What can I do, Julia?” Eli asked.
What else could he do? He was doing everything he possibly could.
When she didn’t answer, he said, “Perhaps talking to Dr. Heller will be the piece to this puzzle that we’re missing.”
Julia dried her eyes. She had to be stronger than this. Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to solve anything. Somehow she had to come up with the strength she didn’t feel she possessed to get through this.
Lord, I’ve been here before. Stuck in a hole that I can’t get out of. Give me the strength I need to get through this. Help me see what I need to see to help Eli solve this crime. Keep us safe. Protect all of us—me, Eli, Ben and all who are trying to find this hit man before he hurts anyone else.
“All we can do is take the next step,” Eli said. “Do you want to go with me on this interview with Dr. Heller, or should I make arrangements for another agent to come and get you?”
Separating from Eli wasn’t an option.
Julia could hardly keep her thoughts straight as Eli drove to Sterling, Colorado—the only correctional facility in the state where death row inmates were held. After going through several security checks, Eli and Julia waited in the contact room for Dr. Mark Heller to be pulled from his cell, where he spent twenty-three hours a day alone. Because of the potential risk her scarf proposed, the guards insisted she remove it. Eli’s gun had been checked into a locker.
The door opened, and the rattle of chains across the cement floor raced up Julia’s spine like the tip of a cold knife. Dr. Heller was markedly thinner than Julia remembered. His cheeks sunken. His skin doughy and greasy. The gray hair on his head thin and shorn in a military-style crew cut. The green, jail-issued scrubs didn’t improve his color.
The guards sat him in the chair on the other side of the table from Eli and Julia. Mark smiled at her, and she couldn’t help returning the gesture. The Dr. Heller she remembered was nothing like the man portrayed in the media. What she recalled of their time together was a physician committed to helping children—a compassionate healer—not a murderous letch.
“Dr. Heller. My name’s Eli Cayne—”
“No introductions necessary. A man doesn’t forget the one who worked so tirelessly to put him behind bars—let alone ensure that he got the death penalty.”
Eli had warned Julia this would happen. It was hard in jail to not make a list of enemies you wanted revenge against—even if you weren’t a murderer.
“However, you did bring one of my favorite nurses with you, so perhaps I’ll cooperate more than I thought I would.” He reached for Julia as if to hold her hands, but his chains prevented the movement. Julia could see the guard edge forward, a warning about to spill from his lips, but Dr. Heller sighed and leaned back in his chair.
What Julia didn’t feel was danger. Dr. Heller’s eyes weren’t the emerald green of her assailant, but hazel. Perhaps his eyes could morph into the green that her attacker possessed, but Julia was doubtful. The possible green of his chameleon eyes wouldn’t be as bright and brilliant as those of the man who nearly took her life.
Then how did Heller’s blood get in her house? Had he come later to help the man at the door? If so, why would he be so careless? Surely, a medical doctor was smart enough to at least deduct the most basic principle of Being a Criminal 101—do not leave your DNA behind.
“Mark, I don’t know how to explain why we’re here,” Julia said.
Julia and Eli sat together so closely at the other side of the table that Julia could feel his muscles tense next to her. She moved to settle a calming hand on his knee but thought better of it.
Eli cleared his throat. “I understand your anger at me—particularly if you are innocent. Remember, your help in this matter could help your appeal, so I expect you to drop that tone and have a civil conversation. Otherwise there’s no reason for us to carry on. I can solve this without you.”
“Can you?” Heller challenged. “Because I tried several times to help you before my case went to trial and you wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I guess it was hard for you, Eli, to critically look at the clues and not jump to the easy bait.”
Julia placed her fingertips on the table. “The reason we’re here is that someone is trying to kill me. We’re trying to find out who this person is—”
“Your partner perhaps,” Eli floated out.
“Since I didn’t commit these crimes, I didn’t have a partner.”
Eli shoved his chair back, and the metal scraping against linoleum sent icy threads through Julia’s body. Was Eli disengaging? Or did he feel he couldn’t set aside his disdain to have a productive conversation?
“Tell me,” Julia said. “What’s your theory of these crimes?”
“Have you wondered why the Hangman became active again?” Heller asked.
Eli nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I knew Evelyn Roush—pretty well as a matter of fact.”
“In what capacity?” Eli asked, the disdain gone from his tone.
Julia’s heartbeat settled down a little. Perhaps this could be a productive interaction.
“She approached me about three years ago.”
“What did she want?” Julia asked.
“Her company, Medical Interventions International, developed a new style of ventilator that was able to read brain activity to know when the patient was going to take a breath. It had been successful in adults, but she wanted a research trial in pediatrics.”
Fractured Memory Page 16
