Stone closed her eyes again and paused for a moment, but this time it was not to gather her emotions. Gilman could sense her reliving the moment. She wanted to be sure to remember the details accurately. The data needed to be precise. Otherwise, the conclusions would be wrong. It was almost fascinating.
Gilman glanced at each of the officers briefly, and then settled his eyes upon McMullan. McMullan did not seem to notice. His gaze was focused on Stone, his jaw working, his face flushed, his breathing rapid.
As his eyes darted from one player to another, the sympathy Gilman had been feeling for Stone gradually began to wane. This was an intelligent woman. Out running, alone, on an abandoned beach, at night, in the middle of this investigation. She should have known better. And McMullan was in the palm of her hand. It was possible that she was playing with all of them.
“I felt one hand on my face and something up against my throat,” Stone said. “Something cold. I assumed it was a knife. I decided it was now or never, so I kneed him in the nuts as hard as I could. He fell off me, and I got up and ran the rest of the way up the hill. I didn’t have my cell phone, so I started heading back toward my car to get it, but then you showed up.” The last line was directed at the officer who had been questioning her.
Gilman interjected, “If she didn’t call you, then who did?”
“Nobody,” the officer replied. “This is my normal route. I had just driven down the hill to the beach and was on my way back up. She must have just beat me to the top.”
Sean McMullan interjected. “You mean she ran up this hill, after having just been knocked unconscious, faster than you could drive up it? Didn’t you hear anything?”
Stone interrupted. “There was nothing to hear, Sean. My mouth was covered the whole time I was awake. I couldn’t scream. Then once I got away, I was just running. I wasn’t making any noise. I guess I was just trying to get as far away from him as possible. I was lucky this officer showed up. Otherwise, I probably would have just run all the way to my car.”
McMullan redirected his interrogation. “What about the dogs? Haven’t they found anything down there?”
An officer who had previously been silent answered. “They’ve definitely gotten a scent but it’s led them to the beach. After that, they’re lost. I guess the guy went into the water.”
“Well if he doesn’t drown or die of hypothermia, he has to come back out,” Gilman said optimistically.
“He better hope he drowns or dies of hypothermia,” McMullan answered, and turned to run down the hill to the beach.
Five hundred yards up the coastline, Chuck swam parallel to the beach. The late-winter Pacific Ocean was below fifty degrees. As his body turned from cold, to pain, to numb, Chuck remained as submerged as possible – only allowing his nose and mouth to peek out of the water with each subsiding wave, in order to catch a breath. I’ll probably catch fucking pneumonia, he thought. The Bitch is going to pay for this.
9:01 P.M. PST
An hour later, serenity had been restored to the suburban road atop the police beach access street. Katrina, Roger Gilman, and one police officer were the only three people remaining. On one side of the police cruiser was Gilman’s car. Sean McMullan’s black sedan remained jutting into the street, its awkward angle evidence of a hurried parking job. But McMullan had still not returned from the beach.
He’s probably chasing the guy down the coastline, Katrina was thinking.
“Katrina, seriously,” Gilman said quietly. “I realize we can’t force you to go to the hospital, but I really don’t think you should be driving home. I know it’s tough to insist anything with you, but please, let me drive you. I’m begging you—don’t drive right now. You’re too upset, and you’ve also hit your head.”
Katrina looked into his eyes and was surprised to find that she believed in his sincerity. Even with the veiled allusion to her stubbornness, about which Katrina knew he was right, his intentions seemed to be truly in her best interest. She was both skeptical and relieved.
“Who’s going to drive me?” she said. “All three of you have your own cars, and if one of you takes me, then my car will be stuck here. Otherwise it’s a bunch of driving around for more than one person. Just take me to my car and let me go home.”
Gilman paused for a moment. “Where is your daughter tonight?”
Katrina grimaced and threw a hand over her eyes. “Oh shit! What time is it?”
“Almost nine fifteen.”
“I’m late to pick up Lexi from her dad’s house.”
Gilman reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Well, he’s probably worried something happened to you. And by the way, something did. So tell him to come pick you up and drop you and your daughter off at your house.”
Katrina shook her head at him, but for the first time that evening, she smiled.
Ten minutes later, Gilman had dismissed the uniformed officer. He and Katrina were alone, leaning on the back bumper of his car in silence, when Tom Stone’s Jeep screeched to a halt next to Sean McMullan’s car. Tom leaped from the driver’s seat and raced toward Katrina. “Are you OK?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m OK.”
Kimberly and Alexis slipped up behind Tom. “Hi, Katrina,” Kimberly said softly.
“Hey, Kim,” Katrina said, without looking up.
“I’m—I’m really sorry this happened to you,” Kimberly said.
“So am I.” The voice was Lexi’s.
Katrina went to her daughter, and Alexis stood still to allow Katrina to hug her tightly.
“So, what’s the plan?” Katrina asked then. “Geez, I feel like such an invalid here.”
Tom chuckled slightly. “Well, it’s about time you let someone take care of you for once, even if it’s just to give you a damn ride home. Give me your keys.”
Gilman produced them from his pocket. “We found them on the path near where you were attacked,” he said.
“Kim is going to take you and Lexi to your house in my Jeep, and I’m going to follow in your car,” Tom said. “Simple as pie. I’ll even trot over to the gliderport to get your car… you don’t even have to give me a lift.”
“How’d you know my car was at the gliderport?” Katrina asked.
“Because I was married to you for nine years, dummy.” He stuck out his tongue and jogged off.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Tom’s Jeep, Katrina looked wordlessly out the window. Lexi and Kimberly were silent as well.
Katrina finally spoke. “I think there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Who?” Kimberly asked.
“Actually, both of you.”
“What?” Alexis leaned forward over the back of Katrina’s seat.
Katrina sighed and turned sideways in her seat in order to be able to face both of the other women. “I think we—I—well, maybe you too—might be in serious danger. I’m not convinced that this attack was random.”
“I don’t understand,” Kimberly said. “I thought the terror threat was over. I thought now it’s just a matter of you finishing whatever you’re doing, and then the government will take it and move on. I thought everything is fine now.”
Katrina shook her head. “It’s not over. Something is still going on. My postdoc recently had his apartment broken into, and I’m wondering if this is related. I’m not saying you need to be paranoid. I’m just saying that you—all of us—should watch our backs. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid. But better safe than sorry.”
Kimberly took her eyes off the road long enough to give Katrina a hard glare, and then reverted to staring directly in front of her. “That job of yours is going to be the death of us all. You’re like an alcoholic, too wrapped up in your own situation to see the effect it’s having on you and everyone around you.”
“Look, Kimberly,” Katrina said. “I didn’t say that I know for certain that there is anything to worry about. I’m just trying to give you a heads up in case there is. And anyway, it’s not my fault
. I’m doing the best I can. And it really has been a rough night for me. So cut me some slack, OK?”
Kimberly looked back over at her, but her face had softened. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’ve had a shitty, scary night and I shouldn’t have said that. We’ll talk about it later.”
A moment passed in silence. “OK,” Katrina said at last.
When she turned to address Lexi, who had been wordless throughout the exchange, her daughter was looking out the window. I hope she is even listening, Katrina thought. If you never listen to me about anything ever again, just this one time, please, Lexi.
“Alexis?” Katrina said.
The girl’s face snapped forward, away from the window, and her eyes bored into her mother. What Katrina saw there was pure rage.
JANUARY 24, 2016
7:34 A.M. PST
A prison guard opened a door to the visiting room, and Chuck Morales stepped inside. His twin was already waiting.
“Thanks for coming, hermanito,” Oscar said. He was smiling.
“It’s a long fuckin’ drive from San Diego.” Chuck was not smiling.
“I know it is, bro. I really appreciate it. Besides, it will be worth your while, I promise.” He gave his brother a grin.
“So what’s up now?”
Oscar leaned forward and whispered, “Give me some skin.” He raised a hand toward Chuck. Chuck brought up a hand to claps his brother’s and a look of shock crossed his face. “Ssh… ” Oscar hissed. His eyes were darting past Chuck to the security guard, who did not seem to be looking.
Chuck had been expecting money. When he glanced into his hand before dropping it into his pocket, he instead saw two small, sealed glass vials. Each vial contained an off-white powder. Chuck began to tremble. “What is this?”
“Don’t touch it. Don’t eat it, and definitely don’t fucking snort it. Understand?”
“What the fuck are you trying to get me into!” he snarled.
“Look, brother. Don’t worry. I promise, I’ll walk you through everything you need to know. You trust me, right?”
Chuck only glared.
“Right?” Oscar repeated.
“Yeah, I trust you,” Chuck finally said, looking down.
“Good, man, I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?”
Chuck looked away for a moment. When he looked back into his twin’s eyes, he shook his head. “No, man, you’ve never steered me wrong.”
Oscar smiled. “I’m the one who’s in here,” he said lovingly. “And you’re the one who’s out there. I took the hit and did the time for both of us, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. So what’s the plan?”
Oscar looked over at the guard one last time. “You know I’m up for parole next year, don’t you? I’m going to set us up, brother. We’ll be in style for the rest of our lives. First of all, did you take care of the bitch in San Diego?”
“Not yet,” Chuck said. “She got away. But I know where she lives and where she works. She won’t get away again.”
“Good. When are you going back?”
“Soon as we’re done here, I guess. I gotta stop by the apartment first. At least this time I can plan to leave town.”
“Okay,” said Oscar. “But hurry up, ‘cause we’ve got shit to take care of in L.A. now.”
“Like what?”
Oscar paused. “I’ve got a plan, bro. But I need your help one more time. Do you remember Tony Ortiz?”
“Yeah, he’s the motherfucker who got you put away,” Chuck said.
“Right. He fuckin’ set me up. Well, now he’s running the biggest operation in L.A. based on my clientele. Yours too, bro. We’re going to take him out of the loop. And while we’re at it, we’re going to monopolize the business.”
“How’s that?”
“Turns out blackmail is lucrative, brother. I’ve had a thing going on here for a while with that bitch you’re going to get rid of shortly. Seems she doesn’t want anyone to know she killed sixty-eight people, even if they were just death row inmates. She’s been more than happy to fund our future endeavors.
“I’ve been laying low here. I think I’ll get out on parole this time. And when I do, we’ll have the business to ourselves, because nobody’s going anywhere else. See, I’ve taken some of that money and I’ve put it to good use. I’ve got people on a fuckin’ cherry payroll. I’ve got people who have infiltrated all of the major players in L.A.
“Those two vials I just gave you are enough to poison the entire narcotics supply from all of our competitors combined. All you need to do is divide it up into five smaller containers, and then I’m going to give you the names of five people. I’ll set up meetings for you with the other guys, and they’ll take care of the rest. A couple people will make the wrong deal, and everyone else will stop making deals with those fucks at all.
“The customers know me, though. They know I’ve got high quality product for them. They trust me. When they hear I’m getting out, and that people buying elsewhere are sick and dying, they’ll come running back. They’ll be scared shitless not to.
“Not everyone knows I have a twin. Let them see you. Let the word get out on the street. Let them think I’m out already. By the time I get paroled, you and I will be millionaires within a year. And nobody will be turning our asses in this time, because they’ll be out of the picture. Starting with Tony Motherfuckin’ Ortiz.”
Oscar had expected Chuck to be impressed and excited about the plan. Instead, Chuck looked down and did not answer. Oscar ducked his head, trying to catch his brother’s eye. “What’s wrong, bro?” he asked.
“Why do you need me to do this?” Chuck asked. “Why not just wait until you get out, and then you take care of it. You know how to handle this shit. I don’t. I get some of this on me, and that’s it. You think I don’t know that?”
“Look, hermanito. Like I said, I’ll walk you through it. You’ll be fine, I promise. But we can’t wait until I get out. We need to set it up now. The funding for this is about to dry up, remember? Besides, the longer I hold on to those vials in here, the more likely someone will find them. And then, we’re fucked. Mostly me, but you’re fucked too because you won’t have a big brother to take care of you anymore.
“They’ve been tossing cells here and questioning people—mostly Mexicans. It’s only a matter of time before they come after me. You don’t get life for this kind of shit. If they find those vials in my mattress, I’m ridin’ the lightning. That’s why I need you to do it now.”
8:57 A.M. PST
The Muslim robe and headscarf were gone. The dark face makeup was gone. The wig and long dress were gone. Today, it was jeans and a T-shirt.
“You did not go to the prison this weekend,” the Doctor said.
“I didn’t have time,” came the response. “I’m going next weekend. But I need more money before I go. You know I can’t afford to keep up the payments.”
The Doctor stood quietly for a moment. Oscar Morales was almost finished. The prison guards were methodically searching cells. It was only a matter of time before Oscar would be found. And culpability would end there. Oscar would only be connected to a single regular visitor who would by then be dead.
The Doctor reached into a pocket and withdrew not a billfold, but a pistol. “Then I’m afraid you are no longer of use to me.”
As he embarked on the long drive between San Francisco and San Diego for a second time, Chuck Morales was sick and fucking tired of being Oscar’s hermanito.
Oscar still wanted him to take the Bitch out. Good thing, he thought, remembering the night he had spent in the Pacific Ocean after she had kicked him in the nuts. I ain’t about to let that shit go.
But then, when that was done, he was supposed to divide up two vials of anthrax and distribute it. The thought of opening even one of those vials filled Chuck with absolute, merciless, paralyzing fear.
Do I really need to do this for him? he wondered. Maybe not. Maybe it’s time I just did my own thing.
Maybe I can use these two vials any way I decide. Maybe I don’t even need to open them.
As Chuck pulled onto the Interstate 5, he began to grin. It could be done his own way. There was a way to kill two birds with one stone. Or better said, one Stone with one vial.
Remember, Oscar had told him. She knows my face. Your face.
The Bitch knew who Oscar was. She had seen him every Sunday for months. But there was no way she had any idea he had an identical twin. And Oscar had stupidly revealed to Chuck that most of their customers didn’t know either.
Maybe Chuck didn’t need Oscar anymore, after all. Maybe he could get rid of her himself with just one unopened vial. And maybe he could just take his brother’s advice and become visible on the street. Let everyone think Oscar was out. Approach his contacts in the other networks—and take over the business himself.
And Oscar could do nothing about it from where he sat.
“Hermanito?” Chuck said aloud as he drove. “Not anymore, bro.”
“Wait! I can still help you!”
The Doctor moved in and placed the barrel of the pistol against a sweat-glistening temple, and smiled. “Perhaps you can. I think I would like to employ your beautiful penmanship one more time. Generate two more copies of the same greeting card, and I will meet with you again.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve used up my entire knowledge of the Arabic language. Do you speak it?”
“These cards will be written in English,” the Doctor said. “Now go.”
FEBRUARY 3, 2016
6:09 P.M. PST
Ever since Christmas Day, the activity at the lab had steadily waned. By the beginning of February, the security guard’s job had been downright boring. Today, before he could wish for boring, he would be dead.
It was late afternoon, and most of the building’s occupants had gone home. Professor Katrina Stone, the woman whose safekeeping was the guard’s main objective, was always among the last to call it a day. He stood watch outside of her laboratory door wishing she would wrap it up and leave.
The Death Row Complex (The Katrina Stone Novels Book 2) Page 15
