Bone Deep

by Debra Webb

  Despite his warning she stared at him with a kind of awe and hunger that made him weak…made him wish he was more of the hero she thought he was and less of a coward.

  “I want you.” Her words were barely a whisper but the fire in her eyes was a roar.

  “I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind,” he offered.

  She leaned into him. Looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m not changing my mind so stop trying to change it for me.”

  “You seem pretty determined for a woman who still calls me Dr. Phillips.” He had her there. At least he hoped. He was way too close to giving in to keep playing this game.

  “Stop trying to distract me.” She stared at his mouth a moment before lifting her gaze back to his. “I want you. Is that a problem?”

  “No problem at all.”

  He whisked her into his arms. She gasped. He mounted the stairs, kissing her thoroughly as he climbed. Damn but he wanted this woman. By the time they reached her bedroom door, he was ready to rip her clothes off and toss her across the bed.

  Instead, he settled her onto her feet and leaned in close, one arm braced against the doorjamb on either side of her. “You listen to me, pretty lady,” he murmured, “you get back to me in a day or two if you still feel the same way. Then I’ll be happy to give you all you want of me.”

  He backed off. Walked away.

  Her door slammed hard enough to wake the dead.

  Maybe he’d have that drink after all.

  Chapter 12

  Saturday, July 16

  It was just past seven when Paul woke. With D.C. an hour ahead, he’d have time to shower and have a cup of coffee before Cuddahy got to his office. At one time he’d had the guy’s personal cell phone number but he’d buried all that along with the man he used to be. Touching base with his old friend this morning might be a bit premature since until he knew more about MedTech and LifeCycle, where to go from here was unclear. One thing was certain, he had to protect Jill. If he’d had any doubts that she was in danger, yesterday had cleared those up.

  MedTech and LifeCycle were the catalysts for the events that happened the past few days. Paul was sure of it. Benford Chemical had merely set the stage thirty odd years ago.

  A setup to render the people of Paradise vulnerable and pliable enough to ensure they would welcome LifeCycle and MedTech and gladly agree to any and all promises.

  It was a strategy as old as time. Make people desperate enough and they obeyed.

  The scenarios he’d drawn were on the mark, or at least damned close. A familiar restlessness had started deep inside him. All he had to do was stay focused.

  Just like in the Garden of Eden, something evil had permeated Paradise and he could feel it. That evil had presented itself as an entity both knowledgeable and helpful. It had offered hope. The ultimate temptation to a town suffering an unthinkable horror. And, like Eve, the good people of Paradise had grabbed on with both hands.

  Little did they know the price they would pay in the end.

  By eight, Paul was in the Judge’s study, putting through a call to Cuddahy. “You have something for me?”

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  Paul leaned back in the chair. “I won’t know if it’s a good morning until I hear what you’ve got.” He swallowed the last of the coffee in his cup.

  “I can’t make any promises,” Cuddahy tossed back, “but here goes. MedTech was the first in this country to be granted licensing for extended human cloning research. A thorough investigation revealed no reason not to grant licensing.”

  “In other words MedTech’s squeaky clean.” No surprise. Those bastards hadn’t gotten to the top of the food chain without being damned smart. Brilliant maybe.

  “On paper, yes,” Cuddahy confirmed. “But to answer the question you asked of me, MedTech and LifeCycle have a long and solid relationship. LifeCycle is also, remarkably clean. They don’t even cheat on their taxes.”

  Now Cuddahy was being cynical. “But you don’t like what you see... on paper, as you say,” Paul suggested.

  Cuddahy hesitated before going on. “It’s just a hunch. MedTech donates hundreds of thousands of dollars to all the right causes. Hell, LifeCycle even supports dozens of low-income women’s clinics.”

  Paul’s pulse rate picked up. “Like the Women’s Clinic in Tullahoma, Tennessee?” Sarah Long had used that clinic.

  “That’s one of them.”

  He was holding back. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “Off the record?”

  A new kind of tension rippled through Paul. “Definitely.”

  “Two months ago there was a call to the federal contractor whistleblower hotline. The unidentified caller threw out some accusations then hung up and never called back. An investigation I can’t access was triggered based on that call. But I can tell you the call originated in Paradise.”

  The hum of awareness deep inside Paul grew to a roar. Two months. That was around the time when Kate tried to talk Jill into coming home. “Thanks, Cuddahy. I’ll get back to you.”

  “What have you gotten yourself in to, Phillips?”

  Paul hesitated. “Not that much. A murder. Missing kid…the standard stuff.”

  Cuddahy laughed.”Yeah, right. The Bureau still needs you, you know.”

  Paul knew how the Bureau needed him. The Bureau had been using people like him since before the Nixon administration. Only then it had been a big secret. Now the stigma was softened with the right kind of education and job title. A psychologist was supposed to be able to read the human psyche, right? And, of course, a trained forensics man could read the clues left at a crime scene. Nothing else ever had to enter into the equation of what Paul Phillips did.

  “Thanks for the help.” Paul severed the connection, not wanting to discuss what the Bureau needed with his old friend or anyone else.

  What he needed was to know what MedTech was up to. The solution to this mystery was there and with LifeCycle. Kate had known it. He’d bet his life she was the one who’d made the call. That knowledge would be another blow to Jill. No need to tell her just yet.

  Kate had discovered what her husband was up to as CEO of MedTech and she’d tried to stop him. But first she’d taken her son to a safe place. The burned body the chief had shipped off to TBI wouldn’t be Cody Manning’s.

  Other than her husband’s blood, no foreign substances had been found on the clothing that Kate had been wearing when taken into custody. If she’d burned her child’s body, there would have been traces of soot and the accelerant she used. Human bodies didn’t burn beyond recognition without a powerful accelerant. And no one burned a body that thoroughly without walking away with trace evidence in the fibers of their clothing, in their hair and on their skin.

  Cody Manning was still alive.

  “Good morning.”

  Jill stood in the open doorway. Dammit he’d forgotten about closing the doors. Before he could stop his traitorous gaze, he’d taken in every inch of her. She looked gorgeous, despite the bruise on her forehead. The good news was she didn’t look mad at him.

  He stood. Gathered his empty coffee cup. “Morning. How’re you feeling this morning?”

  “Thankful.”

  If he were lucky that was a good thing. “How so?”

  “I’m thankful you prevented me from making a fool of myself last night.”

  Oh hell. He hadn’t meant for her to feel that way. “Jill—”

  She held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Then she waved her cell phone. “Besides, I missed a call last night and I think it might have been important.”

  “From the hospital?” He hoped Kate hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

  She shook her head. “It was Connie. My friend from high school. She said she needs to talk to me. About Kate.” Worry clouded her eyes. “She sounded... scared.”

  “Did you call her back?”

  “Twice. No answer. I’ll try again in a few minutes
.”

  “How’s your mother?”

  Jill blinked, still distracted by thoughts of her friend. “She says she’s fine but I know better. I threw together a fruit and cereal tray and took it to her room. She plans to stay in bed most of the day.”

  Paul nodded. “Good idea.” He didn’t want Claire out of the house on her own. Of course, with her agoraphobia, he mused, she shouldn’t want to leave. Yet another of Paradise’s mysteries.

  “I’m going back to the library.” Jill squared her shoulders and looked ready to argue. “I know I’m supposed to be taking it easy today but I want to follow up on something the senator said when he dropped by the hospital.”

  “You’re not going anywhere without me.” Paul grabbed his keys. “I’ll take you.”

  “After yesterday, that’s probably a good idea.” She gave him a sad smile. “Considering my car is down for the count, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  He could live with that.

  ~*~

  Paradise Public Library

  After just two hours Jill had to admit that the senator was right. There was the occasional year here and there during the past thirty where no births were announced in Paradise. But that concern had given way to a new and steadily increasing sense of horror more than twenty years back in her research.

  There were numerous deaths of young children in Paradise and the surrounding smaller communities. At least four per year, sometimes five or six. Fear crept so deeply into her bones that Jill wasn’t sure she could stand for a few moments. But she had to tell Paul. She hoped he might be able to give her some reasonable explanation as to how this could be normal. Why had she never noticed this growing up? Maybe because she hadn’t personally known any of the children who’d died? No, that wasn’t right... there was this one girl who’d died when Jill was six. They were in first grade together. The girl had always been sickly. Pale and thin.

  Something cold and too terrible to examine critically knotted inside her. Why had no one questioned all the deaths?

  She moved stiffly toward the computer station where Paul worked. The idea that she was suddenly referring to him as Paul lurked around the fringes of her thoughts. She dismissed it. He’d been calling her by her first name practically from day one. It wasn’t because he’d mentioned any such thing.

  Focus, Jill. What she needed were some comparisons. She pulled up a chair and sat. While she waited for him to notice she was there, she studied his profile. That intense yearning she’d felt last night started to build inside her, chasing away some of the chill. Don’t go there.

  He glanced at her. “You find something?”

  She nodded. Dredged up the wherewithal to say the words out loud. “I think we need to look into another aspect of Paradise’s history.”

  His gaze narrowed as she relayed the details of what she’d noted in the newspaper. Ironically, the obituaries had almost always been on the same page with the births.

  “We’ll need comparison data.”

  She held up her tablet listing the dates and deaths.

  “You should call the house and check on your mom. We’re going on a little road trip.”

  ~*~

  Jill sat in the passenger seat of the Land Rover too stunned to carry the thread of conversation Paul had tried at least twice to initiate. She couldn’t talk right now.

  They’d driven to two neighboring towns, both were about the same size as Paradise, and perused obituary records for the past thirty years or as close to that time frame as records were available. The task could have easily been done via the Internet but, after yesterday’s incident, the goal was to prevent anyone from figuring out what they were up to. They couldn’t take any more risks. Nausea roiled in her stomach even now at the thought of what she and Paul had found. Neither of those towns had the kind of child mortality rate that Paradise had.

  Could the old Benford plant or even MedTech or LifeCycle be releasing something else harmful into the environment in Paradise? The EPA had seen to the cleanup of the old chemical plant. Or had they?

  Were the deaths reported in the Paradise Gazette all of them? What if there were others? Paranoia soared and she suddenly felt as if she could trust nothing she saw, read or heard. Her whole perfect childhood was based on one lie after the other. No one or nothing was what it seemed. All this time she’d thought she and Kate had the idyllic storybook childhood. She just hadn’t known there were so many skeletons in the closet—a whole other world of pure menace lying beneath that perfect facade.

  “How do you feel about a little breaking and entering?”

  The sound of his voice after the long minutes of silence startled her. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I have grave reservations as to whether MedTech is going to allow us to take a look around or review their files.” He flashed her one of those smiles that made her heart react. “Certainly the LifeCycle Center isn’t going to.”

  “You want to break into one of those places?” Okay, reality check. “Paul, we can’t do that. They have security guards with guns.”

  He laughed. It was the first real laugh she’d heard from him. The sound challenged her to take a blind leap of faith just because he asked. Twelve years ago he wouldn’t have had to ask. But she had worked long and hard to transform herself from impulsive and emotional to level headed and reserved. Was she going to allow him to undo all that work in a matter of days?

  She thought of her bold demand last night. Maybe he already had.

  “No,” he said patiently. “That would almost certainly ensure a trip to Chief Dotson’s facilities. Knowing how the man feels about us, me specifically, I don’t think that would be a wise move.”

  A frown tugged at her brow, reminding her that her head hurt. “Where do we need to do this breaking and entering?”

  “Karl Manning probably kept a few working files at home. We need to check out your sister’s house and see if we can find anything. Since, technically, it’s still a crime scene, to enter, with or without the owner’s permission, is illegal. You up to the challenge?”

  This time she did the smiling. Why the hell hadn’t she thought of that? “Oh, I’m more than up to it. I know where Kate keeps her spare key.” She hoped the police hadn’t added any additional locks.

  There was only one way to find out.

  ~*~

  Jill directed him to an upscale housing development high on a mountaintop overlooking Paradise. The view was nothing short of spectacular, the houses high end. Karl Manning had no doubt left a hefty estate. Paul wondered why the chief hadn’t considered that as a motive.

  Because they aren’t really looking for one.

  It wouldn’t be dark for several more hours. There was no way to avoid the risk of being seen by the neighbors. Paul parked on the curb instead of in the drive. If the chief or one of his deputies showed up, he didn’t want to be blocked in.

  He surveyed the neighborhood as he emerged from the vehicle, then met Jill on the passenger side away from the street. “You get the key and go on inside just like you own the place. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She nodded, then walked straight up to the front door without glancing about. By the time he stepped up behind her, she had the key in the lock and had turned the knob. She hesitated and he understood that it was about the crime scene notice right in front of her face. He reached past her and opened the door.

  He followed her inside and checked the alarm system to ensure it wasn’t armed. Probably hadn’t been since the police arrived to find Karl Manning dead on the floor.

  Jill closed and locked the door behind them. “Where would you like to start?”

  “You take the upstairs. I’ll look around down here.” He didn’t want her faced with the kitchen.

  She headed for the stairs.

  “Is there a basement?”

  She paused, chewed her lower lip for a moment. He licked his lips, wishing it was him nibbling on that full bottom lip. He’d gotten way too much p
leasure out of hearing her use his first name. Most likely didn’t mean anything but it made him wonder…or hope.

  “I think there’s a storm shelter. I remember she said something about it when they built the house.”

  “I’ll cover the storm shelter.”

  She nodded and hurried up the stairs. Didn’t take a mind reader to see she’d rather be anywhere else and wanted this over as quickly as possible. But, like him, she recognized the need to examine this avenue.

  They were just about out of directions to go. Without evidence calling in the state police or the Bureau was off the table. All they had right now was speculation and the Paul Phillips sixth sense, for what that was worth. Neither of which was admissible as evidence. If whoever was behind this nasty business was as thorough as they seemed so far, he doubted the follow up on that whistleblower call would garner any results either.

  Finding the truth was up to the two of them.

  Paul narrowed his attention to the task at hand. A formal living room and dining room flanked the entry hall at the front of the house. The furnishings were expensive and thoughtfully arranged. It smacked of professional decorating. Too many fine details woven too tightly together for a novice. A powder room and spacious family room. All large, elaborately appointed, and without the first hint of anything untoward. Karl Manning had chosen only the best for his family. A huge television, all the latest in electronic gadgets, expensive overstuffed sofas and elegant tables.

  Mentally bracing himself he entered the final room on the first floor. The kitchen with its airy breakfast room and commercial grade everything. A chill settled deep in his bones. The kind he always experienced when he entered a crime scene where murder was involved. The blood had discolored the natural stone tile, seeped deep into each tiny crevice.

  Whispers, shadows of sound, echoed all around him. His pulse reacted. He moved toward the island, stood at the very end of it and stared down at the place where Karl Manning had fallen... taken his last breath.