Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set

by A. K. Alexander

  The bigger problems they would encounter would likely be political. But Redding felt sure he had that figured out as well. The key would be initiating and keeping the right men involved in The Brotherhood.

  A president could only be in term for eight years, but there were others The Brotherhood would line up. There would be supporters and the support would grow. Good, politically correct white Americans would begin to see the errors of their ways. Half of them hid their real feelings anyway about minorities. Redding was certain of it. The drug could be introduced as a street drug in the long run. Once out there on the streets, The Brotherhood’s plans for a new type of humanity could really take hold. The trials within these health care facilities were nice and controlled. They made it easy to see if the drug worked. On the street it would be more difficult to tell. Once the drug was working within the controlled test facilities, then a release on the undesirable populations as a whole could go into effect.

  He knew he wouldn’t be alive to see his final solution realized. But he felt secure knowing the world would be a much better place without millions upon millions of wretched mongrels ruining things for the white race. Policies could be introduced forbidding non-European immigrants from entering the United States. Hell, if the peons of the world wanted to kill one another, why should the U.S. step in and try to make things better? Peter never understood this shortsighted policy. Once he and The Brotherhood were in charge of The White House, changes would take place, big changes. But first, Peter had to gain back the control slipping from him.

  As the car parked in the drive and the driver opened the door, Peter stepped out and immediately felt something different in the air. Something was not quite right.

  He had a visitor. Senator Wentworth was waiting for him in his den. His eyes were red rimmed and he looked very upset.

  “Senator?” he said.

  Wentworth stood up quickly from the chair he’d been seated in, “I know you killed my nephew, Redding!”

  Peter walked over to the bar and poured himself a scotch and soda. With his back to Wentworth, he said, “I am sure you’re upset about your nephew, Lawrence. It’s such a shame, and I am terribly sorry. He was an asset to us.”

  “Fuck you!” Wentworth shouted.

  Peter turned. “Now, senator, that doesn’t sound very presidential of you. Go bury your nephew, put this bad business behind you, and move on with your campaign. You can probably use this suicide thing to your advantage considering it’s one of those ugly tragedies no one ever talks about.” He took a sip from his glass.

  “Chad did not kill himself, Peter. He was murdered. By you.”

  Peter set his drink down on his desk and walked very close to Wentworth. His voice pitched low and threatening. “Listen to me and listen carefully. You are currently in a position to become the leader of the free world. The question you need to ask yourself is not how Chad died, but who is padding your pockets to ensure you become the next president of the United States.” He gave Wentworth a shove and pushed him back down into his chair.

  The senator winced.

  “I think the most respectful thing you can do for your deceased nephew and your constituents is focus on the future. Now, I have business to attend to. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Lawrence?”

  Wentworth stood and stared at Peter. He nodded his head once and walked out of the room. Peter sighed heavily and downed his drink. The last thing he needed on top of his problems was a loose cannon politician. If he had to, he’d cut the strings on his puppet and find another way to bring his plans to fruition.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Mark knew he was in deep shit. He’d made a serious error in judgment. As he threw what little clothes he had into a duffle bag, he realized he’d allowed his obsession with Dr. Morales to get in the way. Mark wasn’t so stupid he couldn’t see the writing on the wall. He was a dead man walking if he didn’t come through for Peter Redding and The Brotherhood. But that was okay, he had a back-up plan: get the hell out of Dodge.

  Yet, Mark knew going on the run meant he’d always be looking over his shoulder. Every time he turned the key in the lock to whatever hellhole he wound up in, he’d be wondering if Connor or some other henchman would be waiting for him. At least he didn’t have to worry about Thomas hunting him down. That had been an ugly scene and all Mark could do was get the hell out.

  Right now though, he had to get out of his place. Period. And he had to make an effort to find Kelly Morales.

  Where could she have gone? She was scared shitless and with his made up line about the cop working for him, he was pretty sure he had her really freaked out. Looking back now, he realized what a brilliant ploy that had been. Sure, he hadn’t expected her to get away but now that she had, the last thing she’d be doing was call the detective. But she would need someone. Wouldn’t she?

  Mark chugged down his second Budweiser before ditching his dirt-bag apartment. Friends…he belched and then started laughing. He had a good idea which friend she’d reached out to. And maybe that friend would know where the good doctor was hiding out.

  Time to pay someone a visit.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Jeanine had just finished feeding the kids and sat them in front of the television where they were watching the Cartoon Network and keeping baby Oliver entertained. She could not believe they had actually made it to the cabin. They had taken the bus out of Port Jervis at noon, and seven hours later, finally wound up in a taxi in front of the bus depot in the Catskills. The driver had dropped them off at the cabin at nearly eight o’ clock.

  Time was running out to give Gem Michaels a phone call. After getting everyone settled, it was already after six in California. The number Ryan gave her had obviously been Ms. Michael’s work phone. She hadn’t bothered to leave a message because she wasn’t sure what to tell her via voicemail. However, she realized as the minutes past, she might not have a chance

  Jeanine was grateful Aunt Camille currently lived in a nursing home. Before they left for Germany, she’d handed Ryan and Jeanine the keys to her cabin, telling them it was her way of getting them to come back home soon. The cabin was pretty remote and conveniently isolated…not the ideal place for an elderly woman to live but perfect for a woman and three children on the run. She hoped.

  Jeanine knew she was on borrowed time. Getting in touch with Gem Michaels was vital. She fished the card out of her purse with the journalist’s phone number on it. She closed her eyes and prayed she would answer. Her eyes opened when someone picked up. “Gem Michaels, speaking.” The woman’s voice was deep, slightly raspy.

  “Oh my God, finally! Thank goodness.” Jeanine could not believe it.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m, I’m…my husband, he met you and he…we are in a lot of trouble. He told me to call you.”

  Oliver cried out from the room upstairs. Jeanine hoped he could hang in there until she was done talking.

  “I’m sorry, who is this?”

  Jeanine spoke up. “My husband is a chemist. He sent you an e-mail.” The baby began wailing loudly. “Hang on please. Please don’t hang up.” Jeanine dashed down the hall into Oliver’s room and carried him back into the kitchen. He instantly settled down and played with the coiled phone cord. “Ms. Michaels are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “My husband’s name is Dr. Ryan Horner.”

  “Okay.”

  “He sent you an e-mail, asking you to keep an eye on your neighbor. He signed it Chemmadderhorn.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You have to believe me. He works for some very bad people in Germany.”

  “You’re in Germany?”

  “No. Please listen. Ryan is and we are in serious trouble. These people, they killed my best friend. Her name is Melanie Schneider. You can verify that. It should be all over the news by now. Ryan is in hiding, I think, and I am on the run. I don’t know who I can trust but he was certain we could trust you. His
boss is a man named Peter Redding. Redding is the CEO of a private pharmaceutical company, Frauen Pharmaceuticals. I can’t give you more details about what’s going on but my husband said it’s bad and we need help.”

  There was no response on the other end and for a moment Jeanine thought Gem had hung up on her. “Please, Ms. Michaels, are you there? I…we need your help.”

  “I’m here. I will help you. Can you tell me where you are?”

  Jeanine hesitated, but Ryan insisted the woman could be trusted. “We’re at my aunt’s cabin. In the Catskills. Can you jot down the address? You should be able to find us on Google Maps.”

  Gem took the information from Jeanine, including her phone number. Her final words were, “Don’t go anywhere. Help is coming.”

  Jeanine hung up the phone. There was nothing more she could do. Her family’s fate was in the hands of Gem Michaels.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  The sun was setting as Kelly leaned against a bench at the wharf. She’d been sitting there for at least an hour, unable to make any decisions. Not knowing exactly what to do after she had taken a cab from SFO into the city. Stevie T was going to need food. First things first.

  She called Eric on his cell phone. His shift was over by now and she crossed her fingers he would pick up. He did.

  “Eric. It’s me. Kelly,” she said, pitching her voice low in case of eavesdroppers.

  “Jesus, Doc! Where the hell are you? The cops were at the hospital asking all sorts of questions. What is going on?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

  “Okay. Listen, calm down and talk to me,” he said.

  “I can’t. There is something really terrible happening. I probably shouldn’t have called you, but I don’t know who else to trust.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “I know,” she said. “But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Kelly, you aren’t making any sense.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m home. Just got here.”

  “I need a favor.”

  “Sure. Anything,” he replied.

  “Can you go to my place and feed my cat? There is an extra key hidden in the back yard under a gardenia plant I have in a Mexican-style pot. It’s blue and green and yellow.” She knew she sounded off her rocker. “But be careful. I don’t know if anyone is watching my house.”

  “Kelly, I would do anything for you, but I have to say you aren’t making any sense. Tell me what’s going on and maybe I can help.”

  She sighed. He was right. She did need help. “We both know Jake was in trouble. I think those same people are after me now.” Her stomach sank as she said the words. She knew she should just hang up the phone and pray everything worked out. But she needed more than blind faith to survive.

  “Oh hell. Where are you?”

  She didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

  “Doc? Kelly? Are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m just worried about your safety.”

  Eric chuckled. “I can take care of myself. I have a black belt in Aikido. I’m not worried about anyone hurting me.”

  “Yeah, well, do you own a gun?”

  “I actually do. I was attacked in college once, and trust me, Doc, that won’t be happening again in my life time.”

  “Please take it with you when you go to my house.”

  “Okay, but will you tell me where you are and what’s going on?”

  She closed her eyes and blurted out the story. “I had some specialty labs done on Baby S. Turns out she has traces of Ketamine and a drug used to sterilize mares in her system. The only way the drugs got there is through her mother.”

  “Okay…Mares? As in horses?”

  “Exactly. It sounds crazy, I know, but I think someone murdered Lupe Salazar and Jake knew who the killer was. I think Naomi Williams and Desiree Jones were also murdered. You said you saw Jake get into a limo last week. We both agree it was strange Dr. Pearson took off on vacation after the death of Desiree Jones and her infant. And then there was Naomi Williams. This is all connected. Mark my words.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Eric said. “But, Doc, there was another case today. No one could find you and there were people asking. A lot of them are worried.”

  “Oh my God. Did the mother…did the baby?”

  “They died, Kelly. I’m sorry. Things are not good. What happened to you?”

  “I don’t know if you’ll believe this but I swear it’s true. Today I was crossing the street and some man came up to me with a story about his twin babies needing a good doctor. Then he pulled out a gun and tried to drag me into a car. But I got away.”

  “Oh my God. What about the police? Why didn’t you go to them?”

  She sighed heavily. “Because…because…I’m not sure I can trust the police. I told the detective handling Jake’s case about my theories, that maybe there was a new street drug out there. In less than forty-eight hours after telling him, I was nearly abducted.”

  Eric let out a low whistle. “You think he’s a dirty cop?”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t know. I really don’t. And right now, I don’t know where to go or what to do. I questioned Brightman and he was an ass about it. I think he knows more than he let on.”

  “Well, I doubt anyone is going to get much information out of him any time soon.”

  “What?! Why?”

  “He turned in his resignation today. Rumor has it he bought himself a villa in the Cayman Islands and ran off with one of the ER nurses. Left his wife. His kids. He’s gone.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “I know, it’s crazy, but that’s the word on the street.”

  “Oh my God, Eric. I know we get paid well but how in the hell could Brightman afford a Caribbean villa?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “He knows something. I question him and then he takes off…”

  “I can snoop around over here,” he said. “See what I can find out.”

  “No. This is dangerous.”

  “I want to help. I’ll feed Stevie T and see what I can learn about Brightman’s sudden departure. Is there anything else?”

  The lump in the back of Kelly’s throat left her speechless for a moment. “Just please be careful.”

  “Always. But what about you? Where are you going? Where are you staying?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t think you should use your credit cards. Do you have cash?”

  “A little,” she said. “About a hundred bucks.”

  “Not enough. Where are you?”

  She hesitated. “I’m in S.F.”

  “Okay.” He paused for a moment. “Listen, I have a friend there in the Castro district. Julio Velasquez.”

  “Oh no, Eric. I’ve already involved you enough.”

  “No. Trust me on this. I was in Iraq in the 90’s with this guy and we well we were together for some time. Anyway, he was Special Ops. He has some connections. Julio can take care of himself and protect you as well. I’ll give you his address. Write it down and ditch your cell. Toss it into the bay if you have to.”

  “Wait…do you think this call is being traced? Oh no! What if they come after you?”

  “I promise I’ll be fine. I am worried about you, though, and better to be safe than sorry. Julio will get you a new phone.” He proceeded to give her the address of his friend’s place. “I will get a hold of him. Let him know the situation. Go there. Go now and I will do everything I can to help out over here. I’ll bring Stevie T to my place.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. Give Julio my love. He is good people. You can trust him.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Be careful, Doc.”

  “You too,” she whispered as she shut off the phone.

  She watched as the sun dipped down over the bay, its golden rays hitting the water. Kelly sto
od up and tossed her phone into the bay as far as she could. It was literally out of her hands now. Eric would have to do the detective work, and she would go to a stranger’s house and hope for the best.

  She took the cable car to Powell and Market, then walked several blocks to the Castro. When she arrived at the colorful Victorian duplex, she walked up the front stairs to the entry way and hesitated before knocking. Images of the past week flashed through her mind. Abruptly deciding she couldn’t continue to involve Eric and this total stranger in her troubles, she turned to leave. As she descended the stairs, the door opened behind her. On the landing stood a well-built, strong-looking man. He appeared to be in his mid-forties. He held a trash bag in one hand.

  “Kelly?”

  She thought for a second before identifying herself.

  “Dr. Morales? Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please come in. I’m Julio Velasquez. You’re safe here.”

  Obediently, she walked up the steps. Although she knew it was foolish to trust someone this quickly, she also realized if she didn’t, it would only be a matter of time before she wound up dead. “Thank you for taking me in. You’ve saved my life.”

  He set the trash bag down on the landing. She looked at it, and then down at the trashcans at the bottom of the stairs.

  He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take it down in the morning. Now please, come in,” he held out a hand and guided her up to his second floor apartment.

  Julio’s place was immaculately clean, with modern Latin decor. The scent of garlic and other familiar spices filled the air. “I thought you might be hungry,” he remarked.

  Kelly suddenly realized how awful she must’ve appeared. She hadn’t seen herself in a mirror for hours. Any makeup she’d applied that morning would have disappeared. But Julio didn’t seem to mind her appearance at all, and he insisted she sit down so he could bring her a plate of food.

  Julio gestured to a yellow futon, “Please, have a seat.”

  He sat down across from her. “Listen, Eric tells me something horrible happened to you. I think maybe if you talk about it, I can help. I’m not sure what Eric told you about me, but I have some connections in high places and maybe together we can solve this thing. Or at least get some answers.” He got up and went into the kitchen, returning seconds later with a bowl of black bean soup and a thick slice of bread. Julio went back into the kitchen and came out with a glass of sangria. “My mother’s recipes.”