by Tl Mayhew
Even with my new job, I still stay in touch with Martin. He generally has some idea of what I’m doing on my assignments, but names are not mentioned, and the details are limited. I trust he wouldn’t do anything with the information I give him.
The other end of the line continues to ring, then the voice of my longtime friend filters through the speakers. “Clayton, my man! What’s going on?”
I smile. “Hey, Martin. You know me, always deep into something. How about you?”
“Same ole trying-to-catch-the-bad-guy shit. Hey, I got your text message. I’m not sure why you’d need intel on Dr. Ackerman, but be careful who you ask. From what I found, it looks like he’s a sketchy bastard, and he has some high and mighty connections. The Savannah P.D. won’t touch him with a ten-fucking-foot pole.”
“Exactly how sketchy are we talking?” My response comes out on a growl. “Doesn’t pay his taxes or something more life-threatening?”
“Well, that’s the problem. Like I said, he has connections. Some of the background check records had red flags, but when I went to check out those records, they had been wiped clean. I can’t say right now if sketchy means life-threatening. I’ll do some more digging and let you know. Man, you know I always have your back.”
“And I appreciate that.” Something about Dr. Ackerman just doesn’t feel right. I’m not sure I like the idea of Lacy having private discussions with this doctor until we can find out more. Fuck, I don’t need this right now.
“Whoever this doctor is, he has significant cash flow.” He lets out a whistle as though he’s reading something, then adds, “He purchased his current residence for three million, and that was two months ago.”
“Martin, can you go back to the Harrison James’s drug bust file to see if there’s any connections to this doctor and the drug Flexeril? If I remember correctly, Harrison wasn’t dealing the petty shit. He was into the higher-end drugs—the kind a doctor might prescribe.”
“I’ll look, but, man, that’s reaching, don’t you think? Although, I know when you get those feelings, your instincts are usually correct. Give me a day. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.”
I let out a deep breath, but don’t feel the relief I expected. “Call me as soon as you do. I really appreciate it, Martin.”
The sound of shuffling comes through the phone then a car starting. “Will do, man. You sure you don’t want to share more about what you’re into?”
“I’m sure.” I hang up the call. Martin knows this is important to me, so he won’t press the issue. He’s still a cop, though, and if he thinks I know something, he’ll ask…when the time is right.
Chapter 18
Lacy
“Are you missing me already?” I say as I answer the phone and grab my bag for work.
Clayton’s tone is deep and pointed. “I need you to do something, but you can’t ask any questions about how or what I know. If you do, I won’t be able to answer…not right now anyway.”
The seriousness of his tone raises the hair on my neck. “O-Okay…? What is it that you need?” I place the bag next to the door, giving him all my attention.
“I’ve received some information on Dr. Ackerman, and I think it would best if you canceled your appointment.”
“W-What…why…what did you find?”
He releases a deep breath. “I don’t have all the details yet, so you’re just going to have to trust me right now.” When he speaks again, I can’t make out what he’s saying, but then realize he’s talking to someone else before coming back on the line. “Can you do that? Can you trust me?”
I pace around my apartment, desperately wanting to know what he found, but my mind swirls in conflict, afraid of what I might find. “What makes you—”
“Don’t!” he releases a frustrate huff. “There are certain things I just can’t tell you right now.”
Can I trust him? I haven’t known him for long, but the fluttery sensation in my stomach when I hear his voice tells me there’s something there. And since he may have information I need, I take the leap of faith. “Dr. Ackerman was very adamant about seeing me.” It’s a lie, but Clayton doesn’t need to know that. I can’t tell him I had to beg to get the appointment because I want more information on my mother. “What if he questions why I’m canceling?”
His voice becomes muted again as he speaks to someone else. I press the phone harder to my ear, trying to make out what he’s saying. “I don’t give a shit...” There’s more mumbling, then, “Deloris.” I can’t make out the rest, but when he speaks to me again, his voice is softer, yet laced with frustration. “You can tell him your new boyfriend has invited you to stay with him in New York for a week. If he still questions, see if you can get away with just rescheduling. That way we can figure something out in the interim.”
My face goes slack. While I wasn’t expecting an invitation to stay with him for a week, his tone makes it sound like it’s the last thing he wants. Maybe our time together was just a way for him to take his mind off whatever it is he’s doing in Savannah, and now I’ve interfered even more by asking him to find out info on the doctor.
“Lacy? Are you still there?”
“Y-Yeah. I’m still here. I’ll call Dr. Ackerman and cancel my appointment when I get to work. Thank you for your help, Clayton. I hope I haven’t been too much of an inconvenience.” I disconnect the call and let my phone drop to the floor.
Chapter 19
Dr. Ackerman
After I spoke with Frank yesterday, I’d went back to my office, locked the door, and pulled Elizabeth’s file from my desk drawer. I read it word-for-word, looking for anything that may have caused a lethal reaction.
The file only lists prescriptions Elizabeth was being given in the treatment of alcoholism, nothing out of the ordinary. I lock the folder back in my drawer and turn to my laptop. The myriad of emails from the hospitals Elizabeth had visited didn’t indicate anything I don’t already know. That is…until I reach the very last one. Scrolling through the entire list of prescriptions Elizabeth had been taking, my breath catches at the second to last one…Tricyclic—an anti-depressant.
“Fuck! Why wasn’t this included in any of her medical files? Dr. Miller should have been aware of this and noted it in the hard copy of the chart.” My voice echoes through the empty room.
The interaction between the antidepressant and muscle relaxer she’d been given would have increased her heart rate to levels that—if not treated—would end in heart attack.
As I pace around my office, I decide what to do with this information. If the James sisters find out what happened to their mother, it wouldn’t end well for me. Tracy, I’m not as concerned about. I could easily convince her it was an accident. Lacy, on the other hand, would be a challenge. The way she pressed me, about seeing her after she’d overheard the conversation I had with Mack, gives me the impression she’d do whatever it takes to find out what happened to her mother.
A deep laugh rumbles my chest. I’m not sure who in the fuck she thinks she’s dealing with. I step over to my desk, then reach below and pull out a briefcase. When I key in the combination and slide the latches, the locks pop and I lift the top. My lips curve into a lopsided grin.
The foam interior is molded with several different shaped slots that house syringes, rubber hose, and vials filled with enough muscle relaxer to bring down a large horse. I close the lid, latch it, then set it back under my desk and pick up the phone to page Tracy.
The knock on the door is light, and I make quick strides to unlock it.
“You wanted to see me?” she asks, peeking her head in then stepping through as I wave her in.
As she steps past me, I grab her arm and spin her around, placing my hand behind her neck, then pull her in, crushing my lips to hers, taking what I want.
She shoves at my chest, pushing me away and a loud smack resonates as her palm connects with my face. “Don’t fucking touch me!” she growls, wiping her mouth. “You ruined your cha
nces with me when I caught you fucking your receptionist.”
“You didn’t have any complaints when you let me tie you to the headboard and she was servicing you.” I capture her hand before it connects with my face again and twist it around behind her back until her body stiffens in pain. “You’re going to sit your fucking ass down and listen to what I have to say,” I grind out, my voice low and threatening close to her ear. “Otherwise, I don’t have any problem sharing pictures of you in very compromising positions to anyone and everyone at this fucking facility. The humiliation would be more than your little mind could bear. Now, are you going to behave?”
Her lips clamp shut, and her nod is slight as she agrees.
I push her down in the seat in front of my desk. “Now, I’m supposed to meet your sister at my office in the city for our session, but I think I’d rather make it a house call.” Her quick intake of breath is exactly the reaction I expected. “I have no interest in fucking her. However, she does have some interest in learning more about what happened with your mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems your sister may have some idea that something other than natural causes related to alcoholism caused your mother’s heart attack, but we both know otherwise, and I would like us to both explain that to her before we begin the session. I want to know her mind is free of any doubts about my abilities. It will also reduce the need for multiple sessions. Do you think you’re capable of convincing your sister to have the session at her apartment?”
She shrugs. “I don’t think it will be a problem.”
“Make sure it isn’t. Now, your feisty little performance has made my dick hard. Are you interested in doing something about that?” Her face distorts in disgust, and my deep laugh fills the room. “You can let yourself out. I need to make a call.”
Chapter 20
Lacy
Once I get to Magnolia Woods, my routine is on autopilot, but my thoughts are on Clayton. When he’d called me his girlfriend, a pinch of excitement had flitted through my stomach, but the feeling didn’t last. The exasperation in his tone chilled my skin and left me confused. My mind spins with thoughts of our previous night, and I wonder if I missed something. Everything about it had felt right—the way his fingers slid over my skin and my lips had tingled when his covered mine. Lost in my thoughts, I jump when Tracy calls out.
“Lacy, you in here?”
Slamming the locker door, my response is flat. “Yeah.” I meet her eyes as she rounds the row of lockers.
“What’s with you? You look terrible. Are you okay?”
I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…something with Clayton. Did you need something?”
“Oh…uh, yeah.” She reaches for my arm and pulls me off to the side. “Here. Come over here.” We step into the corner as her eyes dart around the room. “Dr. Ackerman told me about your appointment.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and my eyes widen. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything, but he did want me to tell you there’s a change of plans. He thought you might be more comfortable seeing him at your apartment instead of his office downtown. I’ll be there too, but I won’t interfere. I’ll just stay in your bedroom and read or something, so you can talk freely,” she says, but her eyes don’t meet mine. “If that’s okay with you.”
My face goes blank. He wants to meet at my apartment and my sister will be there. I’m not sure this is a good idea—no, I’m sure this is not a good idea, but my need to find out what happened to our mother is greater than my own safety. I nod in agreement. “Sounds good. I appreciate his willingness to be accommodating and look forward to talking with him. I really think it will help.”
“Okay. Great.” She turns on her heel and rushes to the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Chapter 21
Clayton
When I try one last time to call Lacy back, it goes to voicemail—again. I hit end and shake my head. Running our conversation back through my mind, I can’t think of what I said that might have upset her. An unusual sense of pain tinges my chest and the need to hear her voice is overwhelming, but at this very moment, it’s impossible. I tuck my phone in my pocket and open the rear doors of an ambulance, where my eyes are met with those of Oren Demetri.
Oren Demetri is the father of Mr. Lennox Demetri, Deloris’ boss, and is part of the reason Deloris and I are here in Savannah, standing on the tarmac of an airport.
The woman I’ve been working as bodyguard and driver for back in New York, Miss Collins, is the girlfriend of Mr. Lennox Demetri, and both she and her mother are mixed up in a family battle with Miss Collins’ stepfather over who will be the rightful heir to the Montague Corporation—a highly successful tobacco business.
When Miss Collins received word that her mother, Mrs. Fitzgerald, was ill and had been admitted to Magnolia Woods, she was on a plane to Savannah almost immediately, with Deloris and I in tow. Once we arrived at Magnolia Woods and were advised visiting privileges for Mrs. Fitzgerald had been denied, it was then that Miss Collins had taken it upon herself to confront her stepfather…on the sidewalk in front of Magnolia Woods. The next few moments happened in a blur. Miss Collins moved toward her stepfather’s limo, and Deloris and I rushed to stop her, but we were too late. The door had shut, and the limo sped away. That was the last day I’d seen or talked to her.
In the days following, the weight of guilt was heavy on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have let her get out of the SUV. It was my job to protect her. Had I done my job, Miss Collins would be safe, and we would’ve found another way to retrieve Mrs. Fitzgerald from the grasp of her husband and Magnolia Woods.
But now…Oren and I are secretly moving the gurney, carrying Mrs. Fitzgerald’s frail body from an ambulance to the private jet, where she’ll be in route to New York and well on her way to getting the care she needs.
I don’t know the story between Oren and Mrs. Fitzgerald, and I haven’t asked, instead, I wait for Deloris’s instructions, which she’s quick to provide. “Get the ambulance back to Magnolia Woods as soon as you can. Be sure the inside is clean.”
I nod, then take one last look at Mrs. Fitzgerald. “Is she going to make it?”
“Yes,” Oren utters, but that response is full of doubt and it’s apparent they are more than just acquaintances.
I don’t linger any longer than necessary. I get the gurney loaded back in the ambulance, slide into the driver’s seat, then let out a deep breath, relieved our mission is almost complete.
***
Once I’m back at Magnolia Woods and the ambulance has been returned—clean and without incident—I climb into my SUV, and I’m at the gates of Montague Manor, where Miss Collins has been held captive, in record time.
The engine of my vehicle idles in front of massive wrought iron gates; ready to surge forward once they swing open. I don’t need to wait long. When the opening is wide enough, I pull through and my gaze drifts to either side of the road. The pathway is dimly lit with lanterns, and it’s difficult to make out anything past the edge of the gravel drive. As I get closer, the large mansion along with Mr. Demetri, Miss Collins, and Mr. Demetri’s bodyguard, Isaac, come in to view.
My pulse races at the sight, and a surge of adrenaline warms my skin as I pull up to the front door, throw the SUV in park, and step out, fisting my hands and flexing my muscles. When Miss Collins approaches the SUV, of her own free will, I know I’ve already missed all the action.
Once everyone is safe in the large vehicle, I take off, weaving down the long lane, armed and on high alert. When we pass the gates and we’re back on the main road headed for the airport, the tension in the air begins to recede, but its short-lived.
When I pull in front of the private plane, gassed and ready to take us to New York, we find the Savannah P.D. waiting.
I wait in the vehicle with Miss Collins while the police confront Mr. Demetri, where they explain they need to detain him for an incident that occurred at Montague Manor befor
e I had arrived.
It’s not until we’re in the air, minus Mr. Demetri, that Deloris explains why he’s being detained. Apparently, he had punched Mr. Fitzgerald in the face. My lips curve up in a smile as I play out how the scene must have gone down. I’m disappointed I wasn’t there to witness it in person.
Once the plane lands in New York, there’s a black SUV waiting for us. The traffic is light due to the late hour, and I have Miss Collins home safely within an hour. With plenty of security detail surrounding the property, there’s no need for Deloris or myself to stay. With my adrenaline running close to empty, I feel driving Deloris home will be my last task of the night.
We’re both on the edge of exhaustion and the cab of the vehicle is quiet until a ding draws our attention to my phone.
Deloris picks it up and reads the screen. “It’s a text from Martin.” She lets out a breath and pauses for a moment before she reads the rest aloud. “His text indicates it’s an emergency and Dr. Ackerman is dangerous. He wants you to call him as soon as you get his text.”
Working the muscles in my jaw, I press the phone button on my steering wheel. “Call Martin.”
A robotic voice filters through the speakers. “Calling Martin.”
“Clayton?” he answers, his voice frazzled.
“Yeah, I’m here. You’re on speaker. Deloris is here as well.”
“I’ll make this quick. Your instincts were correct. There was a connection between Harrison James and Dr. Ackerman. The doctor was writing out prescriptions and Harrison was doing the deals, but Harrison wanted more, so he had some jobs on the side. When the doctor found out, he alerted the authorities. We’ve been looking for the doctor for at least five years. The reason we couldn’t find him is because he’s been practicing under the alias of Ackerman, but the name he was using for his practice in Colorado was his official documented name: Dr. Logan Alderman.”
