Bone Crack: A Medical Suspense Thriller (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 6)

by Bette Golden Lamb

  Did Tallent believe me?

  Not for a minute!

  Maria was dead, along with her mother, for interfering in Tallent’s affairs. That was it, plain and simple. Was she next? Was Gina?

  She washed her face with cold water and patted it dry with paper towels, tried to puff up her hair—she would have to get a fresh cap. And looking at the sweat stains mapping under her arms meant she needed to change into fresh scrubs as well.

  Lolly pulled out her phone and tapped in Gina’s number, hoping she would be in a spot where she could grab her phone to talk.

  Gina picked up right away. “Lolly? Are you all right. Is there anything the matter?”

  “I just spent the most uncomfortable ten minutes of my life.”

  “What happened.”

  “Tallent is on to us.”

  “What do you mean, Lolly. How could he be?”

  “Well, remember when I dropped my employee card?”

  “Oh!”

  “He returned it to me. Not only that—he reviewed their security tapes and saw both you and me sneaking through the place.”

  “Oh, my God! This is awful. Is he going to fire you?”

  “I don’t think so. But, I know he didn’t believe a word I said.”

  * * *

  Gina met Harry in the cafeteria for their lunch break. Her eyes were a big as saucers as she told him about Tallent, how he knew she and Lolly had been in his office.

  All kinds of scenarios flashed through his head.

  “This is just what I was afraid of, Gina.”

  “If you say, I-told-you-so, I swear I’ll scream.”

  “Look, doll, this is how you always get in over your head.” Harry grabbed her hand, squeezed it. “Now you’re not only in the middle of a murder case, you could be charged with breaking into Tallent’s office.”

  Gina covered her face. “He wouldn’t call the police, would he?”

  “Actually, I don’t know why he hasn’t done it already.”

  She thought a moment. “I’ll tell you why: because he’s involved with Maria’s murder. He’s not going to run to the police and chance their radar picking up his signals.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Lolly is not one to push the panic button about anything, but she was worried about the bookkeeper, and then Maria she was dead, along with her mother.”

  “You have to forgive me, doll.” Harry moved his chair closer to her. “I’m selfish, I know, but this was supposed to be our time ... like getting into wedding plans, doing something that was fun instead of always getting into the middle of some life or death crisis.”

  She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. “It’s what I want, too. But I can’t turn my back on a friend. You wouldn’t do that either.”

  Harry nodded. “You’re probably right, besides, it’s too late.” Harry leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’ve gotten yourself smack in the middle now.”

  Chapter 21

  Mulzini and Marcia took the elevator down from the penthouse offices of the cardiologists. Neither of them said a word. Marcia reached for Mulzini’s hand and he felt safe for the moment.

  Outside, he pulled her along with him. Crowds were wandering back and forth and there was an energy that revved him up. Almost as good as being at the Indy 500.

  “The car’s the other way,” Marcia said, smiling up at him.

  “Yeah, but I like being around these San Francisco people. They make me feel feisty. Like I’m still here kicking.”

  “Not feeling sorry for yourself, are you?” Marcia tugged at his arm. “Are you?”

  “Naw, we’ve all gotta go sometime. Maybe this is my time.”

  “Time, schmime! You listen to me, big guy: don’t you even think about checking out, you hear? You’re here with me, and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  She stopped, pulled his head down to her, and kissed his cheek. Crowds moved around them, but he could see people were looking at them and smiling.

  “Hey, see that lunch cart? Let’s get a couple of dogs. I’m actually hungry.”

  “If it’s junk food, you’re always hungry.” She laughed and lightly punched his arm.

  “Hot dogs aren’t junk food—they’re basic to human nutrition. How do you think I’ve lasted this long?”

  After slathering their dogs with mustard, onions, and relish, they moved back away from the cart and started eating.

  “So, are you up for doing the cardiac cath next week?” Marcia said.

  “Wow, it’s that soon?”

  Marcia nodded as she finished chewing the last bite of the impromptu lunch. “At least it’s going to be at Ridgewood. Gina will keep me in the loop.”

  “Yeah. I gotta get it over with so I can get back to work. That way I’ll stop driving both of us nuts.”

  “And, Dirk, too. He looked like he’d been crying after talking with you this morning. What was that about?”

  “Nothing really.” Mulzini stuffed the rest of the hot dog into his mouth. Talked around it. “He was just reassuring me, while I reassured him. That kid’s a treasure.”

  “Yeah, one of the few perks you’ve brought home from the job.”

  * * *

  Mort Tallent sat in his BMW outside the Time Out Health Club.

  He’d bought a pack of cigarettes and started smoking again—something he hadn’t done in almost fifteen years. While he inhaled the tobacco smoke, he hoped it would calm his nerves, help him think. But he realized that all the smoking did was push him back into a deadly habit.

  This morning, after talking to Lolly, he’d hurried through his consultations so he could get out for an early lunch. He wasn’t interested in food. He wanted a resolution.

  He sat there and devised a plan for handling everything, thought about again bringing Vlad into the messy equation. The Russian was unpredictable, violent, unstable, and, worst of all, already had too much incriminating information on Tallent. But did he have a choice?

  He was worried, though. If he went ahead and had Vlad take care of Lolly for him, it would be much too soon after the murders of Maria and her mother.

  And since Maria had worked in his office, some nosy cop might drag up the connection between that and the death of his ex-wife, Annie. Too many deaths involving the office of Dr. Morton Tallent?

  His head was exploding.

  For the millionth time he cursed his dead ex-wife for causing him to get involved with the hit man.

  It was getting too messy—all fingers could soon be pointing at Mort Tallent.

  Not only that, Lolly had brought in her friend Gina Mazzio. Another CCU medical tie in.

  He lit another cigarette with the old stub.

  No, he would have to wait it out. See how the cards fell. There was no doubt that Vlad was definitely needed, but getting rid of Lolly wasn’t the answer. There were other ways.

  He took a couple of deep breaths, put out the freshly lit cigarette.

  Chapter 22

  The man leaned against a store front on the corner, cell in hand. He was looking at the phone window, like every other person around him, as though there was something there that mattered.

  What he was really doing was looking across the street at Vlad Folo walking up the steps into the Time Out Health Club.

  He was profiling Vlad—age , height, weight, physical condition. Even at this distance it wasn’t difficult to read Vlad’s body language—confidence. The man tapped into the stored notes in his smart phone, data he’d been carrying with him for a long time. This might or might not be the person he was looking for, but all of the superficial details seemed to fit.

  He waited a few minutes, crossed the street, and walked into the club. A very attractive receptionist looked up from her desk and smiled at him.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes, I do believe you can.” He gave her a bright smile and leaned over her desk.

  * * *

  Vlad was feeling particularly good this morning. Instead
of his usual raw egg and twelve- ounces of orange juice, consumed in his kitchen, he’d gone out to eat a large breakfast of pancakes swimming in maple syrup, along with four sausage links, all topped off with an extravagant four cups of black coffee.

  Every bite warned that he would have to pay a physical price to compensate for all that food. He knew it was going to take more than one heavy-duty, two-hour workout to make it all right again.

  At the club, he winked at the receptionist, who was still trying to get him into bed, and then walked through the facility, past the squash rooms, the pool, the spa, and the steam rooms.

  When he finally got to his locker, he shucked off his expensive sport coat and sharply-creased wool pants, and pulled down his underwear, leaving him stark naked.

  The locker room was empty, not that it would have mattered, but he turned to a full-length mirror and studied his body as he flexed his muscles. His eyes traveled downward and he stared at his penis. It was long and very healthy.

  And very active.

  Yes, he was beautiful to look at. That’s what both women and men said about him.

  When he lived on the streets, men would seek him out, beg him to suck them off, take it, or give it in the ass, and they always paid with very large bills if they wanted to see him again.

  They always did want to see him again.

  Those funds could have paid for a small apartment, but he continued to sleep in the alleys or gang members’ pads. He changed where he settled down from week to week and it served him well, especially after he became a hit man for a gang. He not only protected, he was well protected, too.

  His father’s warning to stay low, blend in, never left his thoughts. Papa also warned that he would never escape from the Russian killers, no matter how smart, or how much he tried. But Vlad was now thirty two and knew his lessons in survival had served him well.

  His father was wrong.

  It had all been hard, but he’d escaped.

  Vlad reached into his locker and grabbed workout shorts and sneakers. He put them on and walked out to the large exercise room where a large array of machines and weights were waiting.

  Idle chatter drifted into silenced as he walked into the gym. He nodded to various people, mostly body trainers and clients.

  He knew how beautiful he was and so did they.

  Chapter 23

  After Tallent waved goodbye on his way out to lunch, Robert Cantor was immediately up and down the hall. He walked in on Jon Brichett, who was on the phone and gave Cantor a wait-a-minute hand signal.

  When Brichett hung up, he said, “Those post-op call-backs can be a bitch.” He shook his head. “Bring them in or nurse them along at home and worry about them the whole time.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me why I became a doctor.”

  His partner remained silent.

  “So, Bob, what’s up? You’ve got that pissed-off look plastered all over your face.”

  Cantor didn’t quite know how to structure his concern about Mort Tallent and the strange way he was behaving. He finally said, “Have you noticed anything unusual or different about Mort’s behavior lately?”

  Jon Brichett was the youngest of the three partners, and generally had an upbeat personality. Cantor knew he was loved by everybody, especially his patients. His opinion would definitely help structure and solidify whatever Cantor was thinking.

  “Now that you mention it, I have,” Brichett said. “What’s bothering the man?”

  “What could it be?” Cantor said. “He makes twice as much money as we do, he’s single, foot-loose, and fancy-free. Hell, I’d give anything for that kind of life.”

  “I’ll tell you, Bob, that bachelor life looks a lot better from the outside looking in—much more exciting than it really is.” He gave him a know-it-all smile, “Speaking theoretically, of course.”

  Cantor laughed. “Hey, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t give up my life with Stacy for anything.” He collapsed into one of the chairs. “And being a bachelor certainly doesn’t seem to make Mort too happy.”

  “I thought when that whole business with his ex quieted down he’d come out of that dark hole he’s fallen into. I mean having the police questioning him about Annie’s death really took its toll on him.”

  Cantor looked hard at Brichett. “I think Annie sleeping around absolutely destroyed Mort’s whole world. He was crazy about her.” Cantor hesitated. “There’s more to Mort than you might think. Were you aware that his family, particularly his father, pushed him into medicine?”

  “No, never heard anything about that.”

  “Back in the day, Mort was a competitive surfer. Loved it. Traveled everywhere for that one perfect big wave.” Cantor shifted in his seat. “I saw a video of him competing once—he was awesome. But his family didn’t see it that way. Pushed, and I mean really pushed, him into medicine. I met his mom & dad once.”

  “What were they like?”

  Cantor chuckled. “Society-type snobs. Looked down on anyone not in their stratosphere—including me.”

  “Can’t say that about Mort. He’d just as soon talk to the janitor as to me.”

  “I didn’t really know anything about his background, just that he’s a respected practitioner,” Brichett said. “Actually, He’s always been a little standoffish to me from the first time I met him. I didn’t think he liked me, didn’t think he’d agree to bring me into the practice.”

  “Naw, he liked you all right. It’s that sunny disposition of yours. It’s hard to take with a hangover.”

  Brichett gave him an evil glare. “Very funny.”

  “Besides, standoffish is one thing,” Cantor said. “But he’s just been plain off the wall since Annie died. That was over a year ago, and it’s getting worse.” He ran his fingers through what was left of his hair and realized he was doing that a lot, maybe to reassure himself that there was any left. “We probably should talk to him about taking some time off, getting his act together. Maybe that’s all he needs.”

  Brichett sat up taller in his seat. “Are you kidding me? We can’t take care of our patient load with the three of us.”

  “Well, let’s think about it. At least talk to him.” The pros and cons were lining up in Cantor’s head. “Sometime soon.”

  * * *

  Kat Parker was a nervous wreck all afternoon. All she could think about was Cal. She’d had so many fantasies about him, and yet, she barely knew him. Going home with him was slamming her with too much reality.

  She was frightened. What if he looked at her, was turned off by her, by her body.

  I should never have said yes to having dinner at his house. What a fool I am. I was secure out in public, secure in a restaurant with people all around us.

  At four, she went into the rest room and reapplied her make-up and took a few minutes to try to meditate. Meditation was the only thing that had gotten her through her separation and divorce from her husband. For some unknowable, stupid reason she’d abruptly stopped the practice at home and tried to keep it up at work.

  She’d sit on a toilet seat in the bathroom with the door securely locked. When she would drift into a meditative zone, someone would come into the room, start banging things around, generally making noise that would cut right into her concentration. She finally gave up. Starting again today wasn’t going to help her.

  Kat tried to get her thoughts together, but when five finally arrived, she didn’t know what she’d done with the whole afternoon except worry and check herself every few minutes in the mirror.

  At five-ten she was wasted and decided to leave. He must have changed his mind. She couldn’t just sit here. She had to get away.

  She grabbed her purse from the desk drawer, gathered her jacket, ready to leave. Cal came flying through the door to her office. She could tell he must have run across the entire Golden Eye campus, and his office was at the opposite end of the huge corporate grounds. Perspiration was dripping off of his face and he was breathless.

  “Kat, I’m sorry.
I couldn’t get out of a last minute meeting.” He stopped short and looked closely at her. “Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

  “I ... I didn’t know.”

  Without a word he gathered her up in his arms, murmured, “I would never do that. Especially to you.”

  Her legs started to give way, but he held her up.

  * * *

  Cal made a wonderful pasta diner, but at first she thought she wouldn’t be able to eat. Then the combination of food and wine, and just talking about themselves, made her relax and really dig in.

  He lived in a small apartment on Valencia Street in a part of San Francisco that had recently become very trendy. Many in the tech industry, especially from their own company, had moved into the area, driving rentals sky high.

  “Actually until I got the job at Golden Eye, I thought I was going to have to move out.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “About five years. They’ve raised the rent three times since then.”

  Cal was playing an old time CD by Frank Sinatra. He stood, held out a hand to her—soon she was in his arms and they were dancing to “Witchcraft.” She was floating from the wine, and she felt at home.

  “I knew from the moment I saw you we would be like this,” he said. “There was just something—”

  “—don’t say anything else ... I just want to be into the moment, be here with you.”

  Cal leaned into her and they melded together, kissing until she was breathless. She tugged at his shirt; his hands rode her hips, slid over her body until she couldn’t stop herself. She had to touch him all over.

  “Stay with me tonight, please.”

  “Oh, yes,” she murmured.

  Chapter 24

  After Tallent interrogated Lolly in his office, she’d been jumpy and sick with fear the rest of the day. Why hadn’t she thought about the security tapes? Today, everyone used them. And of course, they would pick up the two of them wandering through the penthouse after hours. How stupid could she be?