“You asked for his statement. He’s given it.” Makir brushed by the bed, stepping up to Robinson. “Unless he is a suspect, you should leave. I can walk you out.” A wickedness gleamed in her eyes, full of mischief and promised seduction.
Robinson flushed pink but nodded at Malcolm and Debbie and followed Makir’s swishing bottom out of the room. Malcolm figured that in a normal situation, Robinson wouldn’t have given up so easily, but Makir got under his skin.
As soon as they disappeared, Debbie threw herself at Malcolm. “Oh my god! I shouldn’t have left you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t think you’re bad or evil. I love you. I love you so much. You could’ve been killed, and you’d have thought I was mad at you.”
He stroked her hair and noted the growing wetness over his shoulder where her tears soaked into the gown. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay my love. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.”
Debbie leaned back, eyes red-rimmed and nose puffy. She gestured to his semi-bandaged shoulder with a ‘what the hell do you call that’ look on her face.
“Look, I understand how hearing that ugly truth about the dream thieves made you feel. Trust me.” He held up a hand to halt her attempts at arguing with him. “We’ve felt that way about ourselves more than once. We’ve had many lifetimes to come to terms with sometimes hurting someone for the greater good. It’s never been easy, and to have it just thrown at you like that…I shouldn’t have been surprised. I wasn’t really. I was just worried I’d lost you forever.”
“Never.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to his. Heat rose in him at the touch of her lips on his. The feeling crashed through him, making him ache to be with her, to be inside her. There was nothing like being shot to make you want to feel alive. He pulled her closer, teasing her mouth open, brushing his tongue with hers. She moaned against his mouth. With one hand, he shoved the patient tray to the side, sending the coffee cups spilling on the floor. He jerked the covers down, guiding her on top of him. She lifted her skirt around her thighs. Her tongue caressed his, and he grew hard against her. She moaned as she bit his bottom lip. He reached to free himself when a gasp sounded from the doorway.
They jerked apart, staring at a young man in scrubs holding a food tray. “I’ll just leave this here.” The man sat the food on a chair nearest the door, ears red, and jogged out of the room.
Debbie giggled and scooted off him. Malcolm’s cheeks blushed. They hadn’t closed the curtain, much less closed the door. These hormones were certainly not for the faint of heart. Malcolm didn’t understand how humans had these desires their entire lives but weren’t always going at it like animals.
“That was embarrassing.” Debbie checked her reflection in the mirror, wiping away the smeared lipstick and straightening her hair.
“Tell me about it.” Malcolm grabbed the bag of clothes either Debbie or Makir had brought for him, slipped from under the blankets, and placed his bare feet on the cold linoleum floor. He ignored Debbie’s flushed face and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed. By the time he returned, Debbie had cleaned up the spilled coffee and was chatting with his nurse, a young African American woman in purple scrubs. “Mr. Anderson? I have your discharge papers.”
Malcolm sat on the bed, doing his best to ignore the giggles that kept slipping from Debbie, as he signed the various papers and half-listened to the warning signs of when to seek medical care. The nurse ignored Debbie as well, but little did she know what they’d been doing in that very bed only moments before. He doubted it would take long for the rumor to spread through the hospital.
The nurse insisted Malcolm be rolled out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Debbie squeezed his hand and said she’d go find Makir and get the car ready. He snuck a look at his wound in the elevator. His shoulder had two faded scars and light pink skin where the bullets had entered. In another couple of days, there probably wouldn’t be any sign of the injury at all.
Outside the main entrance to the hospital, Debbie stood by the SUV with a grim-faced Makir leaning against the passenger side. Malcolm stood and walked to the car, thanking the nurse. When the young woman disappeared behind the electric glass doors, Malcolm asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Get in.” Makir motioned her head toward the open back-passenger door. He slid in while she got in the passenger side.
“Where is Detective Robinson?” Debbie asked.
Makir turned in the seat as Debbie pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “I was with him when he got the call. Professor Fischer has been kidnapped.”
28
What? When?” Jim Fischer’s face flashed in his mind. The image from Tara’s memories—Fischer’s hair tousled, an easy smile on his lips, faded flannel pajama pants resting low on his hips—also brought with it Tara’s feelings of love and belonging, of happiness and peace. But now she was dead, and her lover was in terrible danger. Malcolm knew it deep down. The same monsters who had murdered Tara had taken Jim, the same ones he’d seen in Jeff Wallace’s mind. Tremblay’s face with the black, empty eyes floated in Malcolm’s mind, but this time he didn’t just see him briefly through blurry water. He felt rough gloved fingers pushing into the bricks on top of him, pinning him down as the water covered his head. Tara had woken up briefly before she’d died.
Anger and fear flared hot. He wanted nothing more than to drive straight to the Schneider Corporation, grab Jeff Wallace, and rip the information from him. Afterward, he’d find Tremblay and the other assholes who’d tormented and killed Tara and end them!
“He didn’t report to work this morning. With the open investigation into Tara Booth’s death, the cops went to his house to check. Like Rebekah’s apartment, his house had been ransacked. The computer is missing, and so is Dr. Fischer.”
“Why do they think someone kidnapped him? Maybe he split town,” Debbie said.
Malcolm shot her an incredulous look in the rearview mirror.
She lifted a hand from the steering wheel for a second, stopping his words before he began. “I’m trying to think positively.”
Makir reached down into her bag and removed her tablet. “We need to think logically, not positively. He is missing. Those are the facts. It is suspicious that the only belonging missing is the computer. If he’d skipped town, we’d expect he’d have packed clothes and a suitcase, emptied his bank account, and taken his car. I didn’t get that impression from Detective Robinson. This points to foul play, but we don’t have anything definitive. I’m going to get Halek to see if he can get me a backdoor into the police files and maybe check the local street cams to what else I can find out.” She typed down some notes, her face scrunched up.
“I’ll call him.” Malcolm’s hand shook as the adrenaline flowed through him, longing to do something, anything but sit on his ass and talk to people. How could Makir stand this kind of life, always just asking question after question and never getting any answers?
“Gab, my man,” Halek said. “Heard you got shot. You okay?”
“Hey, I’m here with Debbie and Makir. How good of a hacker are you?”
“Dude, didn’t Makir tell you. She already texted me. The official story on the hospital record and police report is that you fainted, split open an old wound, like you told the police, and I gave you a touch of hemophilia. That means you bleed easy and would explain the reaction to the transfusion.”
Malcolm marveled at how fast Halek had done this, but no, his medical and police records were the least of his concerns. “I don’t care about that. What have you found out about Tremblay? And you never told me who in the hell Nate Black is.”
Debbie shook her head. “Who are these people? I take one day off, and I’m freaking lost!”
Makir tilted her head. “Now you know why detectives rarely take a day off.”
“Shh.” Malcolm glowered at Makir and Debbie.
“Right.” Halek said, “Tremblay, now that guy is a piece of work. They’ve got to have some people on the inside because I had to dig deep, I’m talking
Grand Canyon to get a few hints on him. On paper, he is the head of security for the Schneider Corporation. Former Army Ranger who had a dishonorable discharge due to an altercation with his then-girlfriend. I’m sure you won’t be surprised the details were buried, and about two years later, that same girlfriend was found shot to death outside her apartment.”
“Jesus, wasn’t he a suspect?” Makir twisted around so she could be heard better from the backseat.
“He was but had a solid alibi. You’ll never guess who he was with on the night of her murder.”
Malcolm said, “Jeff Wallace.”
“Ding. Ding. Ding. We have a winner. Tremblay and Wallace both were brought up on rape charges back when the two went to North Western together.”
“Not enough evidence?” Debbie asked.
“From what I could gather, having two rich white daddies is better than any lawyer in the world, at least in the United States.”
Debbie shook her head. “Ridiculous.”
“After that Wallace kept himself out of the limelight, but there are several escort services in which he has a reputation for being rough with the girls. Tremblay, on the other hand, seemed to disappear entirely for a few years. Like totally off the grid. There are some very tentative connections to suspected crime lords, but nothing can tie him to anything in particular.”
“We’ve got two men with a taste for hurting women; one rose to be CEO of the Schneider Corporation, and the other disappeared and is now the head of that same company’s security. And who will come along and destroy that company in the future?”
“Tara Booth,” they all said in unison.
“How long has Tremblay been head of security?” Makir asked.
Halek huffed a laugh. “Now there is an interesting story. About six years ago now, old Wallace had risen up the ranks of the company quite quickly. No surprise considering his background and rich family, but the former CEO Gary Schneider, who had worked tirelessly to run a clean business, unlike the founders of the company, developed a soft spot for Wallace’s competition, Nate Black. Black came from a poor family in a small town in Kansas, and he attended community college before going to Florida State. He graduated the top of his class. During his freshman year, he did an internship at the Schneider Corporation. He showed himself to be not only brilliant, but charismatic and kind. Mr. Schneider had told his wife, in their car, while Tremblay had been assigned as his driver, that he was going to give the company to Black. A week later, Black’s car had engine trouble, and he careened into a tree. He was killed instantly, paving the way for Wallace to take over and the corruption of the company to start over.”
“These people are monsters!” Debbie pulled into the hotel and parked the car.
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” Horns blared through Malcolm’s phone. “Stay on your side of the road! Damn California drivers.”
Malcolm didn’t move as Debbie turned off the engine. “Any idea who the second man could be? Cause I already know Wallace wouldn’t dare to get his hands dirty now.”
“I’m still narrowing down some suspects. There are several men on the security team for Schneider, but I don’t want to rule out an outside source. Right now I’m running a cross-reference of telephone calls made to both Wallace and Tremblay.”
“Anyway, you could track Tremblay’s phone. We have a new problem.” Makir reached out and Malcolm handed her his phone so Halek could hear her clearer.
“What’s going on now?”
“Professor Jim Fischer has been kidnapped. He was…”
“Tara Booth’s boyfriend. Man, you all are living in some interesting times. I haven’t had this much fun in…”
“People are dying, Halek. I wouldn’t call this fun!” Malcolm surprised himself by the venom in his words. He’d been known as the hermit, the quiet one, the one just wanting to live the simple life. He never tried to win arguments, unless Lother was involved.
“You’re right. Sorry, brother. Obadiah would scold me for sure. As for Tremblay, he keeps burner phones. I’m always a few hours behind discovering which number he’s using. I’m working on backtracking. By the time a pattern emerges, he’s ditched the phone so GPS is out, but I may be able to…” he paused, and silence followed.
“Halek? Halek?” Malcolm called. Debbie’s hands flew to her mouth. Makir held her breath.
“Right, sorry.”
The group in the car collectively sighed. They shared a look and fought off the nervous laughter that threatened. Something happening to Halek while they were on the phone was too cliché for their situation.
The tap, tap, tap of keys flying across a keyboard rang through the phone. Malcolm guessed Halek pulled over and logged onto a computer. “Okay, I’m in.”
“Care to enlighten the group?” Malcolm asked, not liking that so many of his dealings happened over long distances and phone calls.
“Sorry. I’m in Schneider’s security videos. I’m going to backtrack through the last several hours and see if I can find Tremblay. Once I find him, I’ll see if I can track him and follow him through the city’s cameras. This is going to take a while.”
“Halek, get to a secure location. We don’t need you sitting on the side of the highway, hacking away, and get a local cop interested. Time is important, but get home.” Makir handed Malcolm the phone back.
Halek made little meh, meh, meh sounds. “Yes, mother.”
She glared but said nothing.
“Okay, call us back if you hear anything.”
“Will do.” The line went dead, and the three of them stared at each other.
Debbie rubbed her arms, shaking off a chill. “What do we do now?”
Makir opened the door. “You two need to eat. I’m going to review Schneider’s files again to see if they have some abandoned properties or something.
The last thing Malcolm wanted was food, but, as usual, his stomach growled, giving his needs away. The bulge in his belly had disappeared after having to heal and he did not want it to come back. If it did he supposed he could arrange to get injured again, but Malcolm decided he’d rather start eating healthier and exercise. Gunshot wounds didn’t seem like the smartest of diet plans. He took Debbie’s hand as the three of them made their way into the hotel.
“Let’s grab something from the hotel restaurant if they’re still open,” Debbie said.
Makir nodded and headed toward the elevator. Debbie stepped around the corner and told a tired-looking, middle-aged waitress they would need a table for two. Twenty minutes later, the waitress sat a twenty-dollar chicken Caesar salad in front of Malcolm who’d already drank two glasses of white wine. He picked up his fork, ready to try and relax, when his phone rang. Debbie paused, a spoon full of cheddar broccoli soup held suspended close to her mouth as she stared toward the ringing sound. Malcolm felt her dread as he pulled the phone from his pocket. “Obadiah, what’s going on?”
Screams answered him.
29
The blood drained from Malcolm’s face as the screaming continued through the phone. He dropped the fork and scooted the chair, sending it reeling backward. “Obadiah! What’s wrong?”
Obadiah’s muffled voice sounded through the phone, but Malcolm couldn’t understand a single word. Debbie put a hand on the crook of his arm. “Go up to the room. I’ll take care of everything here.”
Malcolm nodded and hurried out of the restaurant, ignoring the confused stares from the few patrons and staff. With a finger in his ear, desperate to comprehend a single word, he skipped the elevator, opting for the stairs instead. With her superior hearing, Makir would be able to figure out what was going on.
Taking them two at a time, he noted the stitch in his side and hated the way he panted by the time he reached the third floor. If he hadn’t changed, he’d have been to her in seconds. Hell, if he hadn’t changed, he wouldn’t need her super hearing. Sweat prickled at his temples while he knocked on their room door, not caring to search for his room key. Makir answered and jerked
the phone from his hand, almost sending him hurtling to the floor.
“Obadiah? Yes, I’m here. What’s happened? Are you okay?” Her pinched forehead relaxed as her mouth formed an ‘o.’ “Oh my god! When?” The hand not holding the phone clenched and unclenched. Behind her incessant pacing, Malcolm entered the room, closing the door. “Is she okay? Really? Like Caelieus? Worse?”
The image clicked in his mind, and in an instant, he knew what happened. Another dream thief transported to the Cos, screaming with a continuous bloody nose and as wasted away as Caelieus had been. Images of his brother, nothing but skin and bone, sunken eyes, and that river of blood flowing down his nostrils popped into Malcolm’s mind’s eye.
“What do you mean you wish?” A long, pregnant silence stretched onward as Makir listened. Her face lost more and more color while her forehead pinched.
“Okay. I’ll tell him. Call if anything changes.”
Makir ended the call, tossing the cell on the bed. It landed beside a laptop on messy sheets. Malcolm had a hard time picturing Makir curled up on the bed under the blankets.
“Who is it?” Malcolm asked.
“Aelia.” Makir slumped onto the edge of the bed, leaning forward, and put her face in her hands.
“What happened?”
The lock on the room door clicked. Makir flashed by him, sending the papers flying, appearing by the door. Debbie screamed and dropped the food containers in her arms. Makir moved faster than Malcolm’s eyes could follow, catching the packages before they hit the floor. Debbie stared at half of the plastic keycard in her hand. The other half remained stuck in the lock. The smell of their uneaten food wafted in the air, turning Malcolm’s stomach.
“Jesus!” Debbie grabbed at her chest.
“Sorry.” Makir sat the containers on a side table by the hotel’s mini coffee machine.
Debbie stared at the broken key. “Great. Now, what are we going to do?”
The Dream Awakened Page 16
