In the kitchen, she filled a travel mug to take with her and set off for work, leaving the same way she’d come in the night before.
The hospital was a fifteen minute drive from her house and she fought to keep her eyes open the entire way even though she had the windows down, hoping the cooler air would help her perk up.
As she pulled into a parking space and climbed out, her cell phone rang—it was Jennings. She answered while trying to juggle her coffee cup and keys.
He said, “Good morning,” before she could even say hello, and she smiled.
“Good morning to you too,” she said.
“The parts Lloyd sold brought in more than double the normal rate.”
“That’s great news!” she exclaimed, walking toward the hospital.
“Did Miles have any issues with what he took?” Jennings asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, crossing the road between the parking lot and hospital after a pickup drove by. “I’ll check with him and see how things went.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
“Okay—I’ll call you when I can. Bye!” She ended the call with a grin on her face and a new spring in her step. The good news about the money cheered and woke her up more than the coffee and cool air.
“Sonya,” Rose Adkins, the head nurse from her floor, hollered at her as she came through the Emergency Room door. “You’ll be working down here in the ER today, since they’re shorthanded and there was a terrible car wreck. Once you get clocked in, I’ll be going back upstairs, so hurry up.”
She bit her tongue to keep from mouthing off and nodded, heading down the hall to clock in and drop off her personal belongings in her locker. The happiness melted out of her demeanor with each step as she noticed all the hustle and bustle of the ER, but it returned as she thought of a way the accident could work to her benefit.
Chapter Seven
David McCoy woke up in his recliner with a pounding headache; the bright sunshine that flooded his apartment only made the pain worse. With a deep grunt, he forced himself onto his feet and made his way to the bathroom, being marginally careful not to step on the case files that were strewn around his living room floor.
After relieving his bladder, he took a couple of pain killers to ease his headache. It seemed getting completely trashed was a birthday tradition for him. He couldn’t help but drink when he went over all the cases, especially Daniel’s.
He headed back out to the living room and started to clean up the file mess with a sigh. While he was doing so, he thought about what he’d read…again. He couldn’t help but wonder how many people realized their loved one was missing and reported it within the first 24 hours. He was betting it couldn’t be too often, unless it was a child or wayward teen. But in all of the case files, the victims were 18 or older—not a single one was a minor. This would cause a delay overall in reporting the person had gone missing, because they probably wouldn’t realize someone was gone until their work called to find out why they hadn’t shown up. Sure, a spouse would know when their husband or wife was missing, but a young adult who could be going to college or was known to stay out all night partying would take longer. And most people would call around to friends or hospitals hours after they expected their loved one to be home before they would even know they were truly missing and contact the police. He was betting those incidents would be closer to the 24 hour mark or beyond.
He was just putting the last file on the neat pile he’d created on the coffee table when an idea of how he could find out if there were new cases hit him like a runaway semi-truck. His chest muscles contracted in his excitement and he found it difficult to breathe. He sat down hard on the floor as his brain raced with possibilities.
His idea was to do a search in the missing persons database for adults that were reported missing within the first 24 hours of their disappearance in major cities. He could add stipulations to the search to look for anomalies such as never having been out of contact with family and friends prior, or for chunks of missing persons in the same area with the same conditions. He just had to search for disappearances from public places, such as bars, where people would be easy to pick up without drawing attention.
The more he thought about it, the more he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. For some reason, he’d never looked for any cases far from LA. He’d, for some reason, believed he’d find the perpetrators in California. But if whoever was taking people had moved to a different state, they would be harder to find and track. It would make them smarter than he’d first believed.
He knew they would have to be operating in a city if they wanted to go unnoticed. He still didn’t know what they were doing with the bodies, since none of them had ever been found. The only traces of the victims that had been found were their wallets and other such personal effects.
He was getting excited about his idea and decided he would go into work to use the computer system even though he’d taken a vacation day. The fact he wasn’t supposed to be at work would actually be in his favor because he could focus on his idea without having to deal with any other cases while he did so.
He had the case files in his arms and was about to leave his apartment and head to the office when he realized he was still wearing his clothes from the previous day. With a sigh, he put the files down and headed back to the bathroom to take a shower. He didn’t want to look like a raving lunatic when he arrived at FBI headquarters, ranting about missing persons cases. If he did, his boss would probably send him home and not let him return until he’d had a full psych evaluation. He definitely didn’t have time to waste on something stupid like that. He needed to have access to the resources available at work. If he could find the cases he believed he would, he was sure he could convince his boss to let him work on the case full time. With nothing to go on to advance the case—no new leads—he’d been the only one investigating the disappearances. As far as the Bureau was concerned, the people in the files had just decided to take off and start their lives over somewhere else. There weren’t even any bodies, for crying out loud.
***
An hour later, David arrived at FBI headquarters looking relaxed and professional in a sweater and jeans. He was pleased to see that most of the office was out to lunch. This gave him time to start working before his co-workers got curious. He was hoping to have found some cases before he had to explain himself…especially to his boss.
He started his search in the states surrounding California with no positive results. He found plenty of missing persons cases, but they didn’t have the specific similarities he was looking for. He kept circling out further and further, still finding no results. He became discouraged when he’d gone halfway through the United States and he still hadn’t found what he was looking for.
He took a break and went to the bathroom, noticing it was now after two in the afternoon and everyone was back at their desks. He wondered why no one had bothered him, but he imagined he might have looked so focused no one wanted to intrude.
On his way back to his desk, he bumped into his boss.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Agent Lance Harmon asked. “Didn’t you take a vacation day today?”
“Yeah…” Agent McCoy said, “…but I had an idea for a lead on my brother’s missing persons case so I came in to do some searching through the database.”
“Oh?” Agent Harmon asked. “What lead did you find?”
“It’s more of an idea, really,” Agent McCoy said, squinting and trying to think of the words to describe what he was looking for. “I think I might have found a similarity in all the cases that could repeat in other similar cases. I’m almost sure the people I believe are responsible for kidnapping the victims in the cases have moved on to other states and may be operating in major cities somewhere else in the US.”
“That sounds promising,” Agent Harmon said. “Have you checked Cleveland yet? That’s the serial killer capital of the US.” He laughed, slapped Agent McCoy on the
back, and continued on down the hall.
While Agent McCoy knew his boss was only half-serious and half-teasing with the Cleveland remark, he couldn’t help but think it was a good idea, because, in fact, Cleveland, Ohio was known for serial killers. If the responsible parties were killing their victims, as he believed, then they were technically serial killers. His boss’ joke held an irony he hoped would pan out into some sort of truth…no matter how twisted that truth may be.
Agent David McCoy rushed back to his office and ran a search on Cleveland, Ohio, and sure enough, he found the case aspects he was looking for.
His heart was racing as he started going through case after case, finding a total of eight files that had the details he was looking for.
He had to stop and take a minute to get himself under control before he left his office to let his boss know what he’d found. Obviously he would keep looking, but he wanted to make sure his boss knew he’d actually found leads on the cold case. He would want to spend more work time on the case and he needed permission to do so. If everything worked out, he’d be traveling and chasing down the people who’d taken his brother. After two years he finally had some hope of finding out the truth of what had happened to Daniel. He finally had some hope of getting justice for his brother.
Chapter Eight
Sonya sighed and dragged her hands through her long blonde hair after pulling out the elastic tie that had kept it off her neck through her grueling day in the ER. She walked out of the nurse’s locker room with her cell phone in hand, heading for the elevators. She planned to go downstairs and talk to Miles.
There was no one waiting for the elevator when she reached the shiny metal doors, and they opened instantly when she pressed the “down” button. Stepping aboard, she was happy she didn’t have to share the small space with anyone and took the time to skim though her text messages during the short trip down. There was one from Jennings, notifying her that there would be a meeting later in the evening, and one from Lloyd. Chewing on her bottom lip, she replied to his text as the elevator came to a halt and the door opened with a ding.
Slipping her phone into the right pocket of her shirt, she turned left and headed down the hall to the morgue. The halls were surprisingly quiet down in the basement, which was somewhat unnerving to her after being upstairs and surrounded by too many people. She stopped at a huge glass window that looked in on the autopsy area; Miles was sitting just beyond it, filling out paperwork at his desk. He was focused on his task and jumped when he happened to glance around and notice her standing there watching him.
She lifted her hand and waved, smiling at him.
He stood swiftly and struck the edge of his desk in his rush, knocking over his drink; he fumbled with the cup and grabbed the paperwork off his desk, trying to save it.
She laughed and pointed at the door when he glanced up at her again. He was now blushing.
He nodded and motioned to the mess with a lopsided grin.
She nodded back her understanding and headed to the door to wait. She could see him frantically grabbing paper towels out of a holder by the nearby sink and throwing them on the desk to soak up the liquid. She laughed again and shook her head.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to check who was trying to contact her—Lloyd had answered her text. She smiled as she read his message.
The door clicked open in front of her and she slid her phone back into her pocket.
“Sorry,” Miles mumbled. “I wasn’t expecting to see you standing there.” He ran a hand over his balding head nervously.
Sonya smiled sweetly at him. “I guess I should have called first. Your paperwork didn’t get ruined, did it?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and blinking innocently.
His eyes fell to her mouth and he stared for a moment before taking a deep breath and answering. “It’s okay,” he breathed, and glanced up to her eyes—what she said finally registered in his mind. “Oh, yes, the paperwork is fine. I managed to grab it before it got wet.”
She smiled broadly and stepped through the door. He backed up awkwardly to allow her through.
“I’m glad it didn’t get ruined because I would have felt bad,” she said.
He chuckled and ran a hand over the top of his head again. “Don’t worry about it. What are you doing here?” Realizing he must have sounded bluntly rude, he rushed on to say, “Er…I mean, what can I help you with?”
She laughed and playfully swatted him on the arm. “I came to see you, silly, and to make sure you didn’t have any issues with ‘moving’ things.”
“Oh,” he said, and blushed again. “Um…I did the paperwork this morning, but it’s not quite finished yet.” He walked over to his desk and picked up a file lying in a small rectangle basket on the corner of his desk. He sat down in his chair while he opened it and spun to face her. “What do you think I should put in for the source?”
She walked over to him, tucked her hair to hang over one of her shoulders so it wouldn’t come between them, and bent forward to look at the open file, standing close to him.
“I was thinking…” she said, turning her head slightly to look at him, making sure their noses were mere inches apart. “Why don’t we use the accident to our advantage? You could say the person’s body was severely damaged in the wreck and only certain things—like blood—could be salvaged. Wouldn’t that be possible if someone was carrying a donor card?”
Miles fumbled with the file, looking down at it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, I think I could do that.”
“Great!” she exclaimed, standing erect and walking toward the door. “There’s going to be a meeting tonight—I’ll let you know if anything important is discussed.” She reached for the door handle, ready to leave.
Miles tossed the file down on his desk, swore when it landed on the wet paper towels, and quickly moved it, laying it back in the basket. He stood and his hurried movement sent his chair spinning backward, but he quickly grabbed it before it slammed into a glass fronted cooler.
“Um, wait a second,” he said, coming forward, letting go of the chair. “Would you…um…like to go out to dinner sometime?” He rubbed his hands on the sides of his pants nervously and tugged at his white lab coat, looking anywhere but at her.
Sonya let go of the door handle, walked over to him, lifted her arms, and pressed her hands to his shoulders. She blinked at him as he looked at her, surprised at her touch.
“I would love to,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes, biting her bottom lip, “but we have to be careful who sees us together while we’re doing business.”
He sighed, nodded, and looked down. He tried to step back.
Sonya dug her fingernails into his lab coat, holding him in place.
He stopped and looked at her again.
She stepped forward, closing the small gap between their bodies, and tilted her head slightly to the side, brushing her lips gently against his.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she whispered against his lips, looking into his eyes. “We can’t.”
He thrust a hand into her hair awkwardly and kissed her again.
She let him, allowing her body to melt against his, knowing the false seductive actions would satisfy him for now and keep him thinking she was interested so she could get what she wanted from him. After about a minute, she pulled back.
“I have to go,” she whispered.
He nodded, breathing heavily.
She smiled and stepped back—he let her go willingly enough. “I’ll call you later,” she said as she walked over to the door and opened it, waving one last time before she stepped out into the hallway.
As she walked down the hall, she glanced through the window. Miles was still standing in the same spot, staring off into space with a lovesick smile plastered on his face. She sighed, shook her head, and thought, Men are too damn easy.
She took the elevator back upstairs, feeling like she was in control and had Miles handled. She fast-walked out
to her car before anyone had a chance to stop her or talk to her.
She arrived at her house fifteen minutes later and pulled into the driveway with a content sigh, happy to be home. After entering the garage and closing the door behind her, she reached for the doorknob to the door leading into her house from the garage; it was unlocked and turned easily in her hand. Cautiously she entered the house, still clutching her keys in her hand with the one for the door jutting out, ready to stab an intruder. She knew she’d locked the door that morning, as she was meticulous about always locking the door.
Shadows dominated the rooms of her home, with sunlight shining in around closed drapes and blinds, giving her just enough light to see by. She slowly made her way from room to room, looking for anything that would indicate the presence of another person.
Just as she entered the hallway leading to the bedrooms and bathroom, someone grabbed her and slammed her into the wall face first, pinning her.
She struggled, dropped her keys, and tried to push herself away from the wall.
Her attacker grabbed her wrists and pinned her hands above her head with one hand.
“Now, now, now,” a male voice breathed into her ear, “you need to calm down. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, now, would we?” He nibbled her earlobe while she struggled to get her hands free.
“Let me go,” she panted.
“No,” he said, and slid his free hand down her body and under the hem of her shirt. “I’m not done.” The man slid his hand down the front of her pants and reached for her crotch while rocking his against her ass.
She relaxed her body for a moment and then tugged her wrists hard―to no avail—he’d been prepared for her escape attempt.
He chuckled and scraped his teeth against her neck, moaning. “God, I’ve missed you, woman.”
Nurse Blood (The Organ Harvester Series Book 1) Page 5
