Deadly Ties

by Vicki Hinze

  “What’s this about, Peg?” Mark rounded the desk to face her.

  “I went back to the office to check Lisa’s old files—the ones Susan Brandt kept on her from the time Lisa first came to her and moved into the Towers with Nora.”

  “And?”

  “And I got the shock of my life.” Peggy opened the folder, revealing a large sealed envelope. On it was a handwritten note.

  “What does it say?” Mark twisted around so he could read it.

  “It’s Susan’s handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere,” Peggy said. “To be opened only in case of extreme circumstance directly related to the health and well-being of Lisa Marie Harper.”

  Mark’s heart beat hard and fast. “You can’t get circumstances any more extreme than these. Open it.”

  “Jeff, you’re witnessing me break the seal.”

  “I am.”

  Peggy opened the envelope and slid out a file folder. Her hand shook. On the outside of it CONFIDENTIAL was stamped in dark red ink.

  Peggy peeled back the folder front and glanced at the words. “It is indeed a note from Susan.”

  Mark’s knees threatened to buckle. He sat in the visitor’s chair. “Read it, Peggy.”

  She straightened her glasses on her nose, then stared back down at the note. “Under no circumstances is what I am about to tell you to be revealed to any outside party. I claim medical privilege and retain all rights to the contents of this file. Continuing to read this document attests to your acceptance of these terms and conditions. There are no exceptions I deem acceptable to violate the terms or conditions stated.”

  “Can she do that in her capacity?” Mark asked Jeff.

  “Unless Lisa killed someone, yes. Murder would have to be disclosed to authorities. Dutch Hauk’s alive,” Jeff said. “That tells me she hasn’t killed anyone. He’d be first on her list.”

  Mark agreed and dared to hope what Annie had rambled to Jeff Meyers in the ambulance that she didn’t want Lisa to remember would be revealed in Susan’s note.

  Peggy raised her eyebrows. “As director of Crossroads Crisis Center, I am asking both of you if you accept these terms and conditions. If you do, please state so by saying yes.”

  “Yes.”

  Playing it by the book. Vintage Peggy. “Yes.”

  “Here we go then.” She adjusted her glasses on the tip of her nose, and then began reading aloud:

  When Lisa Harper was seven years old, she witnessed her father’s murder and was abducted by the killer during the commission of that crime. Certain specifics in this murder-abduction case were withheld. At the time of this writing, which is nine years after the incident occurred, those specifics still have not been released.

  Lisa was missing for nearly two weeks. Despite a massive manhunt, the police had no leads and little hope of ever finding her.

  On day twelve, Lisa’s mother, Annie Harper, received a phone call from Lisa, who had escaped. The police retrieved Lisa, Annie flew down and picked her up, and they returned home. I was brought in to crisis counsel Lisa, but all of my attempts to assist her were futile. Lisa had no recollection of going to Disney World, of being in a hotel with her father, of his murder or her abduction, or of anything that had happened to her during the time she was held captive. She had no recollection of her escape, the police, or her mother retrieving her and returning home.

  Physical examination revealed she had not been sexually abused. She did have bruises and scrapes, but nothing that wouldn’t heal. Shortly before Charles and Lisa took the trip to Disney, her father had gone to Haiti to treat the children at an orphanage and help put a new roof onto the building. Soon it became apparent that she mentally substituted what actually happened to her father with something she could emotionally bear. Even today, Lisa believes her father died falling off the orphanage roof.

  Over the years, I have attempted many times to convince Annie to seek intensive therapy for Lisa, but Annie consistently refused. She had prayed on the matter and felt strongly that she was to leave it alone. That Lisa was fragile from whatever she had endured, and she would remember the truth when she was emotionally strong enough to cope with it. The matter was kept quiet, and few knew the circumstances surrounding Lisa’s situation. The media cooperated, as did the local authorities and those in the know, and Lisa was permitted to forget.

  Be advised that in situations of extreme duress, repressed memories can surface. If this happens, Lisa will need professional assistance to cope constructively with the resulting challenges. Historically in these cases, those challenges have the potential to be devastating to the victim.

  I have been sworn to secrecy, and I am honoring that request. But Annie has all of the details. Talk to her and, should circumstances warrant it, be prepared to provide extreme intervention.

  —Dr. Susan Brandt, administrator, Crossroads Crisis Center and legal guardian of Lisa Harper

  Peggy dropped the page and blinked hard, her jaw dangling loose. “I had no idea.”

  Jeff sucked in a sharp breath. “I ran a check on Lisa, Mark. We have nothing on any of this.”

  “Someone sealed the records.”

  “No,” Jeff said. “We’d see that records exist and are sealed. There are no records. Not on the kidnapping or the murder.”

  Peggy looked at Mark. “When Charles was alive, he and the coroner were good friends. They played couples’ bridge with their wives.”

  Mark thought a second. “The coroner wouldn’t have access to Lisa’s records. Maybe the records of Charles’s death, though with that happening in Orlando, at most he’d have a courtesy copy since Charles was a resident here. But there should be a record of Lisa being missing. Something about the search for her.”

  “Mark’s right, our coroner wouldn’t be involved at all.”

  Peggy tucked her chin to her chest and frowned at them over the top of her glasses. “This is a village, okay? We’re a close-knit group, and Annie Harper has lived here her whole life. So had Charles. The coroner wouldn’t be involved, but his brother certainly could have been.”

  John Green. Mark stilled. “The mayor could have had the records sealed.”

  “We’d have an order for that,” Jeff insisted.

  Peggy sighed. “Now, you would. Back then, John probably called the chief and told him to lose the records, and that was the end of it.”

  “He was a good man,” Mark said. “If John thought it was best for Lisa, he’d do it.”

  “Yes, he would.” Peggy nodded.

  “That doesn’t help much.” Jeff let out a grunt. “Considering John Green’s dead and can’t answer questions.”

  Poor Lisa. Hot knives of fear stabbed Mark’s chest. To deal with something this awful once was bad enough. But twice? God, what are You thinking?

  “What do we do?” Mark paced the small office, lacing his hands behind his head. “Only Annie knows the details that could maybe lead us to Lisa, and she can’t tell us.”

  “We know Karl Masson is involved.”

  “That’s presumption, Peggy,” Jeff said. “He was here. That makes it likely, but it isn’t indisputable proof.”

  Peggy stood. “Fine, you give him the benefit of the doubt. I’m not. Common sense says if it looks and smells like a skunk, it’s a skunk. And if Karl Masson’s here and Lisa’s been kidnapped, then he’s involved. That tells me NINA is behind this. Dutch Hauk’s a bully and a coward. He wouldn’t dare come after Lisa on his own—and that tells me you two need to be calling in every favor you’ve got with everyone you know to find out what NINA is up to that could include kidnapping a woman.”

  “Or a doctor.”

  “Okay.” Peggy flipped the file closed. “A woman or a doctor.” She picked up the papers. “We have to be realistic. Annie might not wake up in time to help. Which means we have to do everything we can for Lisa on every other front. When Annie does wake up, I will not be telling her that we didn’t find her daughter.”

  “We’re doing all we can, Peggy
. We’re asking the questions. We’re checking with resources.”

  “Well, Mark, I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be at the center. Maybe I can drum up something else on this.”

  “She’s calling in the prayer warriors,” Jeff warned Mark.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Jeffrey.” Peggy walked past them. “The prayer warriors have been in the chapel since we got word Annie was critical, before Lisa was abducted.”

  The church ladies had immediately activated. Mark watched her go, hoping they had more of God’s favor than Lisa or he had. They did have the right idea, going to God first and not as a last resort. He was grateful for that. But honestly he’d have been more grateful if Lisa had been spared. “She’s right about Masson.”

  “Yeah.” Jeff looked at Mark, his eyes shining regret. “She is.”

  Masson had to be neck-deep in this. Because of Dutch or some other as-yet-unknown reason. But Mark was sure of one thing. This new information left by Susan proved Lisa was in double the danger they first thought: danger from her abductors and from her memories, and he dared to wonder …

  Which would prove to be the more deadly tie?

  17

  K arl Masson sat in a booth inside Ruby’s Diner.

  He’d changed from one of his usual Brooks Brothers suits to camp shorts, a blue T-shirt advertising Seagrove Village’s fishing rodeo, and sandals. Dressed like most other locals, he’d fade into the crowd and go unnoticed. It was as easy to hide out in the open here as it was anywhere else. The key was to look and act as if he belonged. Glancing out the wide window, he scanned the parking lot. The rising sun slanted glints of light on the cars lined up like rows of little soldiers.

  Ruby’s wasn’t a tourist destination. The locals in Seagrove Village came out every morning, some for breakfast, some for coffee, and most for the latest village gossip. This morning the buzz was all about Annie’s assault and Lisa’s abduction. Sitting alone in a booth with the newspaper, Karl kept his head down, ate slowly, and paid close attention.

  Megan, Ruby’s friendliest waitress and gossip-in-chief of the village grapevine, refilled Karl’s coffee. Her red curls rioted, as if they’d been caught in a stiff storm. “More cream?”

  “No thanks.” He pretended to be engrossed in the newspaper to avoid looking directly at her.

  “All right, then. If you need anything else, just yell.”

  “Thank you.” His cell vibrated against his side. Karl pulled out his phone. “Hello.”

  “New cargo location is needed.”

  Frank. He was in Jackson, Mississippi, and ready to pick up the witness.

  “Anything else to report?” Karl fished a couple of bills out of his wallet and dropped them on the table.

  “No sir.”

  “Take Highway 49 south back to I-10, then head west. Continue west until further notice.”

  “Got it.”

  Spotting the coroner sitting across from a sober-faced teenage boy in the far-left booth, Karl turned away and went out to his car. He’d heard the gossip on them too. The former mayor’s brother and son were about to go to court to keep the boy with Hank. They were talking softly about it but loud enough for Karl to hear the boy, Lance, clearly. He was terrified of his mother, Darla Green. Lance told his uncle Hank if the judge made him live with her, he’d run away and stay gone. He had to or his mother would kill him just like she killed his dad. The boy’s fear was palpable, and if Karl were Hank, he’d do whatever needed doing to keep the boy away from her.

  When a kid was that scared of his own parent, there’s reason. Karl knew that firsthand, just as he knew the boy was right. Darla Green had killed John, and Lance would toe her line or she’d kill him too. The woman didn’t have a motherly bone in her body. She was every bit as cold-blooded as Raven.

  Feeling sorry for the boy, Karl left the parking lot and pulled onto Highway 98, heading west. Nothing he’d heard had him worried that either the pug-nose detective or Mark Taylor and his team had pegged Karl or NINA as being involved. Dutch was getting full credit for Annie and Lisa.

  At Gramercy, Karl hooked a right and slowed to a crawl, checking the Crossroads Crisis Center parking lot. Kelly’s SUV wasn’t in the lot.

  He couldn’t go after her at Three Gables, not even with half its security force out hunting for Lisa. With Taylor’s old team in town, that would be the height of stupidity. But maybe Karl could catch Kelly leaving the grounds. Odds of his being recognized even in Seagrove Village were slim to none. Except by Kelly Walker. All they had was an artist’s sketch, and in his opinion, it wasn’t a great one.

  For the most part, people saw what they expected to see, and few expected to see him on their streets. That’s why Karl stayed low-key and hid in plain sight. People ignored him. He used that to his advantage.

  Again his cell vibrated. He snatched it up and checked caller ID. Blank. “Hello?”

  “Raven. To whom am I speaking?”

  Raven calling him unexpectedly? He hoped it wasn’t bad news. “Lone Wolf.”

  “Mission?”

  “Shifter.” What was she doing?

  “Sorry, Lone Wolf. Headquarters has experienced minor technical difficulties. A hundred percent verifications are currently required on all communications.”

  Karl spit out the mission’s authorization code. “Alpha 263891.”

  “I’d like a cargo status update.”

  Odd. “We’re on schedule, ma’am.”

  “Excellent.” She paused. “And our client is … where?”

  “On the way to the hospital. They phoned. His wife is critical.”

  “Critical.”

  The bitterness in Raven’s tone had Karl swallowing hard. If Annie lived and caused problems … He’d been warned. He should have just shot her and been done with it. “In a coma.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Contact the client and issue a delay order. A restraining order against him has been served on the hospital.” She went on to catch Karl up on NINA’s reaction to it.

  He pulled into a bank’s empty parking lot and gave the call his full attention.

  “We’re taking care of it. Just keep him away from the hospital. Have him get updates from the road.”

  Something was wrong. Really wrong. Raven wasn’t worried about the client. She was worried about NINA. So why would Dutch showing up at the hospital concern her at all?

  No matter how he figured it, it didn’t make sense. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Any questions?”

  No way was he touching that one. She’d have a kill order issued on him before he put down the phone. “No ma’am.”

  “Excellent. Raven out.”

  Karl hung up, certain he’d just passed the test to determine whether or not he lived another day.

  And maybe he had.

  Uneasy and shaking, he called Dutch and then waited for him to answer.

  Finally he did. “Yeah.”

  “Stay away from the hospital.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I never kid anyone.” Karl braked for two kids waiting to cross the street on their bikes.

  Dutch’s sigh crackled through the phone. “As it turns out, I have to stay away. Somebody put out a restraining order against me to keep me away from Annie. My own wife. Can you believe that?”

  “The cargo?” Karl guessed Lisa. She had reason.

  “No. It happened after the cargo shift.”

  That could explain Raven’s call. Okay, then. Things were making more sense now. Karl watched the cars driving down Highway 98. Morning traffic was picking up. “Working on that. But even if it’s dropped, you stay away.”

  “Why? She’s critical.”

  Karl had told him Annie was critical. Why would he think he didn’t know it? Good grief. “Let me be clear. Show up there and you won’t be leaving.”

  “I’m the client, remember? Don’t threaten me.”

  “I’m saving you
r lousy backside, man. Taylor, Meyers, and the entire crew from Crossroads are looking for you. You walk in, and I guarantee you won’t walk out.”

  “Taylor did it. Had to be him. Tell the boss I’m offering a million dollars. I want Mark Taylor dead by dark.”

  “I’ll pass that along.” What did Dutch know about Taylor? Couldn’t be much.

  “Not just wounded. I want him dead.”

  “I understand. But remember my point. Stay out of that hospital, or you’ll be getting buried.”

  “Taylor’s not a killer.”

  “The boss issued the order. You want to complain, you complain to her.”

  “The boss? Personally?” Dutch’s voice rattled. “What’s she got to do with this?”

  “You can ask her that too.” Karl glanced into the rearview, wishing he’d brought a fresh cup of Ruby’s coffee with him. He hadn’t stretched out for nearly thirty-six hours. Another jolt of her caffeine would work wonders. “Do what you want, but if it were me, I’d do as I was told. The boss isn’t exactly in a good mood.”

  Dutch paused. “You aren’t warning me against Taylor and his apes. You’re telling me NINA doesn’t want me at the hospital.”

  Karl laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “I just told you the boss said stay away. That’s pretty straight talk. What’s wrong that you can’t get it?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. NINA doesn’t want me dead. It wants me out of the way in case it wants to take some action at the hospital.” Finally, the light dawned.

  “If you’re told to stay away from the hospital, you’d be wise to stay away from the hospital.”

  “I’m clear. NINA is everywhere.”

  Dutch was a sorry excuse for a man.

  “I’m supposed to meet with that joker Meyers about the restraining order. I’ll have car trouble—again.”

  “This time, I suggest it be credible trouble. If I hear you’re cruising around in Seagrove Village again when you’re supposed to be elsewhere, you’ll have plenty of reasons to regret it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t bother lying to me. I know the truth.”

  Silence.

  Karl laughed. “You were more right than you realized, man. NINA is everywhere.” Would Dutch figure out that Tack, the caretaker at Chessman’s old house, was on NINA’s payroll? Probably not for a week or two, if ever.