It wasn’t as if he killed for pleasure.
Of course he didn’t deny there was some small pleasure to be had in the act, but that wasn’t the reason for the act. That would make him nothing more than a common murderer, and he was anything but common.
His fingertips began to tingle, and his heart accelerated to a rate slightly above that to which he had grown accustomed. He checked his pulse. Oh my, seventy-nine. For him that was positively tachycardic. Well then, perhaps he did relish the kill a bit more than anticipated. But it was natural for him to take a measure of satisfaction in dolling out Sky’s punishment. He was training her to do right. And doesn’t a master take pride in teaching his charge obedience?
But Sky was proving herself to be a stubborn girl, and this time he needed to make sure the punishment would be strong enough to suppress her recalcitrant behavior. He’d assumed that she would’ve learned her lesson last time, that watching Edmond’s skull blow apart in her face would have done the trick. But she hadn’t learned a thing. Instead, she’d turned around and allowed Benson to soil her in the same way Edmond had. At least Edmond had been a physician, but Danny was a nobody, and he couldn’t have the neighborhood mutt humping his sister.
As he pushed open the door to the file room, he smiled graciously at Nevaeh. “Still at it, I see.”
Her shoulders jerked in surprise. “I-I— You scared me.”
“Sorry. Just thought I’d stop by and see how the great treasure hunt is progressing.”
“Treasure hunt?”
“You’re looking for valuables, are you not?”
“I’m looking for the missing files, like you asked me to.”
This girl was a bit dim. Well, that didn’t excuse her whoring. He didn’t feel sorry for Nevaeh. He had no soft spot in his heart for this little tramp, not like the one he had for Sky.
As for whether or not Nevaeh’s infant survived, that was in the hands of fate. Such a shame these young girls couldn’t keep their legs together. If Isabella hadn’t come along and pulled him out of foster care, he himself would have been better off dead. Better to rot in a trash bin with maggots crawling out your eye sockets than to be chained to a fence sharing water with the likes of the Martins’ bull terrier.
But Isabella had come along, and she’d taken him in and given him a chance to make his mark on the world. A hundred times she’d told him, “Your genius is not to be wasted”. He wasn’t going to let his angel down. He intended to leave a legacy of good behind him, just as Isabella had urged him to do. Bella was that legacy, and he would crush anyone—anyone—who dared interfere with his mission.
Thinning his lips, he tried again. “Right. The files. Have you found them yet?”
“No. And I hate to back-bite, but wouldn’t you think Soyla would be in here helping? After all, she was the one who lost them.”
“I don’t disagree. Soyla should be here.” But he’d arranged it so she wouldn’t be. Nevaeh’s death would better suit his purpose. Sky was going to be devastated over losing her little protégé. Besides which, he had a certain liking for Soyla. Soyla was stupid, but she was also loyal, and she wasn’t a whore like this girl. “I appreciate you taking on the task. And I promise you’ll be well compensated. Those files are quite important.”
“I know. And I don’t get it. What kind of people would sue a free clinic?”
He made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Greedy bastards, I suppose.”
“Yeah. Really greedy. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and what I decided is this. I don’t want your money. Dr. Sky has done so much for me. I don’t feel right taking money for helping her find those files.”
“Suit yourself.” He paced over and planted his feet firmly within Nevaeh’s personal space. She tried to step back, but the counter was behind her. He had her right where he wanted her, cornered. He reached his hand into her pocket. She drew in a sharp breath, and he felt his lips stretch. Perhaps he was snarling, because Nevaeh recoiled from him, bending her upper body backwards over the counter. God, she was making it so easy. He withdrew his hand from her pocket and held up her cell. “This one of those new Droids?”
“No. That’s the old model.” She reached for the phone.
He jerked his hand up. A little game of keep away.
“You’ve got your boyfriend’s number in here?”
“Look, Dr. Novak, I really can’t waste time talking. I need to find those files. And I’d like to get home soon.” Once more, she reached for her phone. “So if you don’t mind…”
“Oh sure, I’ll get out of your way. When’s your due date?”
“Two weeks.”
“It’s a shame your baby won’t have a father.”
Her body squirmed, and then she straightened her spine, stopped cowering.
The opposite of what he wanted.
“He does have a father. It’s just Casey isn’t ready to grow up and take responsibility. But lucky for my baby, I am.”
“Yes. How very lucky your baby is.” He gestured theatrically at her belly.
Her eyes were on the phone, still held high in his hand. “I know you think I can’t take care of him. I’m not too stupid to recognize your sarcasm. But I’m going to nursing school. Dr. Sky’s paying my tuition. And truthfully, I don’t like you very much. If you weren’t Dr. Sky’s brother, I wouldn’t still be standing here talking to you.” She held out her hand. “I’m really busy. So please, just give me my phone and leave.”
He’d expected Nevaeh to tremble like a little mouse. But instead she’d gotten angry. She was spoiling his fun. And he had another problem. A nagging worry. He had to destroy the files before they were found. He had to prevent Sky from seeing them. Because if Sky did see them, and she put two and two together, he’d have no choice but to destroy her too.
If the files weren’t in this room, there’d be nothing he could do to save his sister. If the files weren’t in this room, all this would be for naught. “All right. I won’t take up any more of your time, but…maybe the files aren’t here.”
“Oh, they’re here in the file room somewhere. Soyla and I picked over every single chart in the front. Dr. Sky checked all the offices, went through Dr. Guerretin’s desk, even checked the safe, and the files are never to be taken off site. So by process of elimination, they have to be in this room. There’s simply nowhere else they could be.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” He set Nevaeh’s cell on the counter and brought his hand to her cheek.
Opening the banged-up file cabinet that had once caused an argument between her and Garth—he’d called it an eyesore when she’d tucked it into the corner of her kitchen—Sky filed the Fed-Ex tracking slip under her catch-all receipts. She brushed her palms together: Mission accomplished.
Even though today had been a typical overbooked Monday, she’d left the clinic early. She’d wanted to make it to Wells Fargo during business hours, and for once, luck had been with her. Despite the traffic on Santa Fe, she’d made it just in time, and though she’d worried she’d find yet another key in Edmond’s safe-deposit box, instead, she’d found the missing files.
The goose chase was over.
First order of business had been to make copies of the files. She’d kept one set for herself, returned a set to the safe-deposit box, and Fed-Exed the originals to her attorneys for safekeeping. She wasn’t going to take a chance on losing the charts again.
Settling in at the kitchen table, she fanned out the stacks of papers in front of her. Now that the medical records were secure, it was time to find out what was in them.
Garth traced the line of Nevaeh’s jaw with his fingers and felt it clench a split second before he clamped his palm over her mouth. A ninja move whipped her spine flush with his chest and locked his elbow across her throat. Little puffs of air and spittle sprayed across his palm. “There’s no use screaming, sweetheart. We’re the only ones here.”
Why he bothered admonishing her, he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if s
he could scream with his elbow crushing her trachea, and in truth, they were the only ones here. No one would hear her screams except him. And, upon reflection, he decided he’d enjoy them. He uncovered her mouth and eased up on her throat. She let out a delightful cry. Her body thrashed against him. The little wildcat even tried to head-butt him. He was far too strong for her, however. Freeing one hand, he drew the syringe from his jacket pocket. “This is going to hurt, sweetheart.” Her body flailed. Whirling them both around, he slammed her back against the counter.
Jammed the needle in her throat.
Counted to ten.
Dropped her limp body on the ground.
He grabbed her phone and got down on his haunches. Sprawled on her back, one arm above her head, the other arm twisted out of its socket, her unblinking eyes wide open, she looked for all the world like a china doll…a broken china doll. Soon her corneas would begin to dry and burn, but he did not wish to close the doll’s eyes.
She wouldn’t need her corneas anyway, and he wanted a witness, even a temporary one, to his genius. The trouble with getting away with murder is that no one ever knows what a nice job you’ve done. The trouble with never confessing is that no one ever understands why you do the things you do. No one ever gives you the respect you deserve, and no one ever says, Hey, thanks for making the world a better place.
Absolutely no one.
“Excuse me a moment,” he told his little doll. His voice was cheery. In a few hours, all his problems would be resolved. Just as they would’ve been resolved after the robbery at Jolene’s if Benson hadn’t interfered. “So long, Danny Boy.” He slid his finger across the screen of Nevaeh’s phone until the text message bar appeared.
He typed in Benson’s phone number and then his message: At Jolene’s. HELP ME.
Glancing back at his little doll with the bulging belly, he saw that her chest wasn’t moving. Good. He checked for a pulse. Thready but present. The Vecuronium was working fine. Little Doll was paralyzed, but conscious. She couldn’t breathe, but she could hear, feel. Before she suffocated to death, she’d have time to hear his confession.
“Don’t worry about the baby, sweetheart. He’s better off without you. I know that’s hard to believe, but you’ll have to trust me on this one. I’ve lived the life you were going to condemn your baby to live. A mother mustn’t do that to her son. So, I’m going to help you both. I’ll cut him from your womb, and that way, he’ll have a chance. A slim one, it’s true. But with a stupid little slut such as yourself for a mother, he’d have no chance at all.” Pausing for breath, he gave her a disapproving shake of his head. “It would only be a matter of time before you found some other man to whore with. And then you’d leave this poor innocent boy on the proverbial doorstep with no one to love him. No one to see that he isn’t beaten and starved.”
From his coat pocket he pulled a studded dog collar. The leather felt stiff and smooth beneath his fingertips. “You’re a bad mommy,” he explained, as he fastened the collar around the doll’s neck. “Your son will be much better off if in heaven, where my angel can watch over him. And if by some quirk of fate he survives, she’ll watch over him from on high.” He tapped his index finger against his lip. Was that all he wanted the doll to know? “Oh, and I’m going to burn this goddamn file room to the ground. I’m afraid I had to lie to you to get you here. I can’t allow the missing charts to be found. You see, there’s something in them that could ruin me.”
The doll’s cell rang. He turned it off.
“I’ll be right back.”
He rose and fetched his loaded backpack and doctor bag from the hallway. Upon his return, with his doll watching him, he stepped into the biohazard suit he’d brought from his lab and snapped gloves over his hands and sleeves. After slipping on his surgical booties, he tied plastic bags over them for extra protection. He could care less about keeping sterile, and the fire should take care of any traces of DNA he might deposit on the doll. But he didn’t want his clothing covered in blood, and he certainly didn’t want to have to burn his nice oxfords. He checked the clock on the wall. He’d managed to dress to kill in under a minute, which was better than his rehearsal time.
Pleased to be ahead of schedule, he knelt beside his doll once more. Too bad she couldn’t move a muscle. He would’ve liked to see facial expressions. Closing his eyes, he imagined her face contorted in terror. And why not? She must be terrified. He decided to reassure her. “I’m going to take the baby out now, so you can look at him before you die. I’m not a monster, you know.”
To keep that promise, he’d have to hurry. Nevaeh would be dead soon. He pulled out his scalpel and lifted it heavenward for consecration. Then he drew the blade in front of her line of vision. “I give your baby up into the hands of fate. Pray for him, sweetheart. Perhaps God will save him.”
He lifted Nevaeh’s blouse, exposing her ripe abdomen. He slashed through skin and fascia. Warm, sweet smelling blood bathed his hands. Closing his eyes, he imagined her scream.
Chapter Eighteen
HELP ME.
Nevaeh must be in labor. That must be the reason for her urgent summons. When Danny’s high beams hit the traffic barricades, orange lights flashed. Raising one hand off the wheel, he shielded his eyes from the glare. He was going to have to park a block south of Jolene’s.
Damn construction.
Danny gritted his teeth and resisted the temptation to jerk the wheel and slam on the brakes. Instead, overriding his natural inclination with common sense, he eased his Mustang over to the curb before opening the car door and bolting into the sleet and snow.
Nevaeh had texted HELP.
And then nothing. No response to his calls. He’d tried the diner, but the telephone was out of service.
Damn storm.
It was after eight on one of the coldest nights of the year, and the temperature neared zero. The diner usually closed early during inclement weather, but with Nevaeh so pregnant she was ready to pop, no way Cookie would turn her out. Likely Cookie had used Nevaeh’s cell to call an ambulance. Likely Nevaeh was on her way to the hospital at this very moment. Likely that was why she’d texted for help and then stopped responding. Nevaeh was in labor, on her way to the hospital. That explained the whole thing.
Unless it didn’t.
Inside his fur-lined gloves, his damp hands tightened into fists. Casting a glance in all directions, he patted his gun and worked his stiff trigger finger. His guard was up, and so were the hairs on the back of his neck. He braced himself against the icy wind and the stench it carried with it. Must be some foul garbage to stink even in such frigid temperatures. Due to the fierceness of the storm, the streets were deserted. As his brain sifted through best and worst case scenarios, his shoulders tensed.
It wasn’t beyond imagination that someone other than Nevaeh had summoned him. Anyone capable of orchestrating a robbery to cover up murder was capable of using Nevaeh’s phone to lure him into danger. His legs worked urgently to cover ground and get him to the diner. Most likely Nevaeh was in labor, but if not and this was a trap, he wanted to run, not walk, straight into it. Because if Nevaeh’s phone had been used to trap him, chances were good she’d been snared in the process. Best way to find Nevaeh was to let himself be found. Just ahead, he could see Jolene’s.
His hand clamped around the butt of his gun.
The street lights blacked, and then flickered back to life.
He froze and drew his weapon, pricked his ears.
An excruciating crack on the back of his skull, and his feet went flying.
Moonlight glowed through Danny’s eyelids. Forcing them open, he took a survey. Head: Hurts like hell. Body: Stiff and sore. Balls: Frostbitten. Hands: Behind back and tied.
Swell. Just fucking swell.
Struggling to rise from his seated position, he noticed that a set of heavy ropes winding around his chest bound him to a tree. So that was why it was hard to breathe—that and the ice-sharpened air that filleted the lining of his lungs
with every breath. His nostrils flared, and his chest heaved, trying to grab more frozen oxygen. Gratefully, he sucked it in, noting a minty fragrance on the wind.
Studying the night sky above him, he tried to get his bearings. The Pleiades twinkled, and a flashing memory of his night in Sky’s arms made him smile. Overhead, the new moon was bright, and he could see well enough to know he was surrounded by aspen and pine. Unfortunately, that didn’t exactly help him pinpoint his location.
Somewhere in the Coconino National Forest—not a lot of help.
And who the hell was the gnarly skinned man wielding a chain and pacing in front of him? The man’s hair was covered by a brimmed leather cap. Shadows hid his features and imparted a sallow, gray color to his complexion. His skin looked like wet newspaper. Along with a slowly improving level of consciousness, memory began to seep through the crack in Danny’s skull. His first clear recollection emerged: Nevaeh. “Where is she?”
“Who?” The man snapped the chain near Danny’s feet.
“You’ve got her phone. That’s how you got to me. So no point pretending you don’t know who I mean. Where is she?”
“I ain’t got her phone. That’s the other guy.” Another whip, this time the chain bounced off the tree near Danny’s cheek and sent shards of bark flying into his eyes. Looking down he blinked, and then looked up again, tried to get the man to make eye contact. But the bill of the man’s cap hid his face too well for that. “So the other guy—your boss—has got the phone. Where’s the girl?”
“He ain’t my boss. We’re like sleepers. And I don’t know shit about what he did with the girl.”
This guy was talking nonsense. But he must know something about Nevaeh’s whereabouts. “I don’t understand.”
First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 Page 18
