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Still Heartless: The Thrilling Conclusion to Heartless (Derek Cole Suspense Thrillers Book 5)

Page 7

by T Patrick Phelps


  He was deep inside my head at that point.

  I pushed everything aside, pulled out my phone and called my parents. My parents both worked on the Ohio State University Campus, and both had retired a couple of years ago. I figured they’d be home and was more than a bit relieved when I heard my mom’s voice answering my call.

  “Just calling to check in on you two,” I said.

  Sometimes, I think mothers are aliens, equipped with some unique abilities. For example, my mom was always able to hear even the most subtle changes in my voice. I guess having a son who had spent eight years, five of those deployed in the Middle East, four years as a cop and six months in recovery and counseling after a failed suicide attempt kind of makes a mom on edge whenever her son calls out of the blue.

  “What’s wrong, Derek?” She said a second after my statement. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine, mom.” I was trying hard to sound calm and not like someone being mentally played with by a murderous, heartless, son of a bitch. “I just had to leave town for a case yesterday and didn’t have time to let you know I’d be gone for a few days.”

  “Oh Derek. Why don’t you let your father get you a job with campus safety and stop all your running around?”

  I love my mom. No doubt about that, but the last thing I wanted was to get into a conversation about my freelance detective agency and why I wasn’t interested in walking around a college campus wearing a powder blue security officer’s uniform. Actually, that’s not true: The last thing I wanted was to hear Alexander’s voice answer my call to my parent’s house. Hearing my mom express her concerns was fine by me.

  It took a few minutes before my mom stopped suggesting I at least talk to someone at campus safety and for me to get back to seeing what other treats Alexander had left for me. The fourth sheet of paper was ripped in half. The top half had Thomas O’Connell’s cell number printed out. Beneath the ten digits was a message for me from Alexander.

  “Not all messages are intended for you, Mr. Cole. There are others on my list as well.”

  Once again, I pushed the manilla envelope aside and grabbed my phone. This time, it was Thomas O’Connell’s number I dialed. I didn’t need to refer to Alexander’s notes for the number. The ten digits seemed to have been burned into my memory. He answered on the second ring.

  Hearing his voice again instantly brought back some memories and feelings I had down a pretty good job of shoving down deep inside of my “feelings” vault. My old therapist would have said something like, “If you don’t fully address your feelings and listen to what they are trying to tell you, they will erupt and disrupt.”

  “Bullshit,” I thought back then and, “Bullshit,” I was thinking when Thomas answered the call and I couldn’t think of what to say. It wasn’t my feelings erupting and disrupting me, it was I was still pissed as hell at him. He lied to me. He and his father. I went charging into Ward C, without having any protection besides a short-bladed knife, right into Alexander standing there holding a gun at me. I guess the whole running into the Ward C thing was my fault, but being lied to and deceived was on Thomas and Ken O’Connell.

  I finally found my voice, and said, “Thomas, it’s Derek Cole. I left you a message yesterday.”

  I heard a long, breathy sigh. Wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or the type of sigh someone long past having any interest lets loose. “I got your message and if I wanted to talk with you, I would have called you back. So, unless you have something important to say, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Your brother isn’t dead and I’m as positive as I can be that he’s coming to find you. Is that important for you?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “My brother is dead. I saw his body being carried out on a gurney that night in Hilburn. I get that he was a medical mystery and the EMT’s taking his vitals was useless, but I saw him inject acid into his neck and I saw his eyes glaze over when Ralph Fox hit him with the taser. Look, Derek, I have nothing against you. I feel like shit about how my father and I deceived you and that my brother shot you. I really do. But, the whole thing with my brother, I just want it in my past.”

  “Believe me, I wish Alexander was in my past, too. But all the evidence points to him not wanting to stay in the past. He is very much in my present. And, if he’s true to his word, he’s about to be in your present, too.”

  Speaking with Thomas made everything seem more real. Things felt more real. It wasn’t that I was denying the email, the messages in the cabin, the letter beneath the trap door or the manilla envelope in the black box on the bottom of Piseco Lake, but, somehow, speaking with the guy who got me involved in the Alexander Black case, sort of closed the loop for me.

  Alexander Black was real. What he did less than a year ago was also real. And what he was doing now, was much too real.

  “Derek, I never told you how sorry I am about everything that happened. When my father told me he had hired you, I was stuck. I had already started helping my brother and had absolutely no idea my father was using you only to find those doctors so he could blackmail them. I’m not saying I was innocent, just that I’m sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” I said, knowing I was telling a lie. Hearing Thomas apologize took some of the sting of my anger away. It didn’t make up for being lied to, shot and now pursued by an insane murderer, but, it felt good. “What matters is for you and your mother to understand that Alexander is still looking to cross your names off his list. You need to take this seriously, Thomas.”

  “I had a whole mess of legal problems after that night in Hilburn. I swear to God I thought I was going to prison. Turned out that I didn’t do anything illegal and, luckily for me, you can’t get sent to prison for doing something stupid. A few days after I got home, I got a call from the detective who, I guess, was in charge of the case. He told me my brother’s body was missing from the morgue and they were thinking the medical examiner stole it. They figured she started the post mortem, realized Alex had no heart and figured she could hit the big time by figuring out what kept him alive. He asked me to let him know if anyone contacted me about Alex and had questions that would be beyond what a reporter might ask. The thing is, no one but those of us involved in the whole mess knew about Alex’s medical condition, so the only people who asked me any questions were reporters trying to get an inside lead on a story. My dad was a pretty big deal in the Chicago business world, so once it came out he was killed by his own son, the news people went crazy trying to scoop everyone else. But, I never got any calls or emails from anyone asking about Alex being born without a heart.

  “The way I figure it, she stole his body and is still hiding out someplace, trying to figure out how the hell Alex lived without a heart. Maybe she’ll figure it out, maybe she won’t. But what I know is thatAlex is dead. Whatever evidence you have or whatever has happened to make you think otherwise, is probably someone who knew about the secret and is trying to scare the shit out of you. Alex is dead and gone, Derek. And that’s exactly how I want him to be.”

  Thomas’s beliefs were pretty hard to argue against. The idea Alexander was even alive was ridiculous and to think he was still alive and was actively plotting to kill me, Ralph, Thomas and Jan O’Connell, only added more fuel to the foolish fire.

  But someone had sent me that email. And someone did attack Ralph and leave a mess of messages in Straus’s cabin. Could it have been someone with inside knowledge of the case? I guessed so. But that guess turned out to be more of a fool’s wish than reality.

  “Thomas, you may be right. But you don’t know what I know. You haven’t seen what I’ve seen over the past twenty-four hours. And it doesn’t matter if the person behind all this is Alexander or some twisted maniac; you need to protect yourself until we figure this out.”

  I spent the next ten minutes detailing everything that had happened over the last day. I did my best not to embellish anything nor add much of my editorial opinions to the events. I told as matter of factl
y as I am capable of. When I finished, Thomas was quiet. I almost wondered if he had hung up. But then he spoke.

  “That detective told me about what the medical examiner did to Straus’s body,” he began. “To me, she would be my prime suspect.”

  “The thought has crossed my mind,” I said.

  “She steals Alex’s body, cuts out Straus’s heart then her obvious mental illness kicks in and she starts off by sending you an email. As for the outgoing message on Ralph Fox’s cell phone, can you say for certain it was a man’s voice?”

  “I can’t,” I admitted. “It was a low whisper. Could have been a man or a woman.”

  “And you said Ralph heard a deep grunt right before he got knocked out,” Thomas continued. “Doesn’t seem like something that could come out of Alex.”

  “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

  Thomas paused a beat, letting the silence wash over me. “I don’t have any problem with you calling me and letting me know what you find out, but I really don’t believe you’re chasing Alex again.”

  “Again, you may be right, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take precautions.”

  “I’ll agree with you there,” he said.

  “You still have contacts in Chicago you can call on to watch your back?”

  “After the whole thing hit the news, it became impossible for my mom and I to stay in Chicago. We sold off everything of my dad’s, including all his businesses, then moved away. My mom and I live in....”

  “Don’t tell me,” I snapped. “Just in case something does happen, I don’t want to be able to tell Alexander or whoever it is behind all this where they can find you.”

  “Just like old times, Derek. Listen, I have to pick up my fiancé in a few minutes. We have to meet with our wedding planner to pick out our china pattern for the reception. Can you believe that shit? A year ago, I’m fighting for my life against the brother I wanted to help, and now, I’m picking out a china pattern.”

  “You’re getting married?” I asked. For a brief moment, I vacillated between intense jealousy and a deep sense of disquieting concern. I was jealous because Thomas had made it through the horrible events and came out on the other side in love and having found someone to share his life with. I came through the same events with a gunshot wound to my gut and with my wife still dead. As for feeling disquieted, I wasn’t sure why I was feeling that way. A few moments after the feeling of dread washed over me, the jealously enveloped me and drowned out every other emotion.

  “I am,” he said; his voice sounding lighter, less encumbered. “Her name is Bri. She’s a professional violist from England and moved to...well, she moved to where I am now living about seven months ago. Classic story, I guess. We met, fell in love and have been side by side ever since.”

  “I’m happy for you. Despite everything, I believe you had the best intentions and were only trying to right an injustice and help your brother.”

  “Funny the way things turn out sometimes.”

  “I left a message for your mother yesterday as well,” I said, sensing the conversation was drawing to a close. “You think you can fill her in on what I wanted to tell her?”

  “Not sure if it would be a great idea,” Thomas said. “Mom didn’t handle everything well. Sort of went off the deep end, but her deep end proved to be a bit different from most people’s. She keeps to herself most of the time now. Half of the time, I have no idea where she is. She tells me she’s enjoying the fruits of my dad’s labor and traveling the world. That may or may not be true. I am pretty sure she travels up to the Chicago area a lot to visit my dad’s and Alex’s grave. Kind of weird, knowing it isn’t her son’s body beneath the headstone, but, I think going up there makes her feel better somehow.”

  “What makes you think she’s visiting the graveyard?”

  “A friend of mine lives on the same street as the cemetery. He’s told me he’s seen my mom up there quite a bit. I haven’t seen my mom for a few months, now. I’m sure she’ll show up again soon and want to be a family again. Hell, she hasn’t even responded back to the wedding invitation.” Thomas paused a second, then, in a quickened voice, said, “Listen Derek, I really need to get moving. If I’m late picking up Bri and we miss the appointment with the wedding planner, she’ll have my head.”

  “Understood,” I said. “I won’t call you unless something happens that you need to be aware of. But if I do call, please either answer or call me back as soon as you can. Deal?”

  I heard a heavy sigh. “Derek, look. I appreciate your concern for me, I truly do, but I need to move on. Shit, I am moving on. I put everything about Alexander behind me and have started a new life. I even had to change my last name in order to keep out of the public eye. People hear the name ‘Thomas O’Connell’ and they immediately start wondering where they’ve heard the name before. Sooner or later, they figure it out and start looking at me in a whole new way.” He paused a few seconds before continuing. “Now that I think about it, I changed pretty much everything about my life except for my cell number. I’ll be changing that right away so, no offense, you won’t be able to get a hold of me.”

  “Thomas, listen to me for one minute...”

  “I don’t need to,” Thomas snapped back. “My brother is dead. That’s all there is to say about that. I don’t doubt someone called you and attacked Chief Fox but it wasn’t Alexander. I’ll call you if I need to. Goodbye.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The torn sheet of paper that had Thomas O’Connell’s number on top had a crude map drawn below the cell number. At first glance, it looked as if Alexander—or whoever was behind all this crap—had scrawled out a rough map of Straus’s cabin and the woods surrounding it. Though the map was far from being to scale, I estimated the circled area in the woods was roughly thirty-feet from the southern most corner of the cabin. There looked like a few boulders and a flat area within the circled area.

  At first, I thought I had better let Ralph know about the map or at least I should have asked one of the officers to join me on my jaunt through the woods, but I decided I needed to clear my head. I checked to make sure my Glock was still positioned correctly in its holster, then set out to find what I was supposed to find.

  Turns out the map was fairly accurate. It took less than a few minutes before I came across an area off to the south of the cabin which was flat, rocky and had four large boulders lying next to one another. The heart-shaped pattern painted onto one of the rocks was clear as day.

  The heart shape was small—no more than a few inches tall—and was painted close to the ground. Beneath the heart (painted black, by the way) there was a small area where the dirt had been moved away, creating a tiny cavern beneath the boulder. I dropped down to my knees and, without thinking, shoved my hand into the small area.

  I felt and removed a plastic bag. Inside the bag, was a cell phone which I assumed was Ralph’s. As much as I wanted to pull the phone out of the bag and see if there were any messages left on the phone, I figured it was Ralph’s property and that he should be the one to inspect it. Plus, to be honest, the phone wasn’t an iPhone and I don’t think I would have been able to even turn the damn thing on without a user’s manual to guide me.

  I knew there were three or four cops within a few seconds from where I was standing, but knowing they were close didn’t prevent the feeling of fear from washing over me. I stood straight as an arrow, drew my gun and was ready to fire at anything that moved around me. I can’t explain that feeling. Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me or maybe I really was being watched. I don’t know. But what I do know is I couldn’t get out of those woods and back into the cabin fast enough.

  Kind of pissed me off, actually. I had been in some tough situations during my time in the Army, when I was a cop and certainly since I went freelance, so feeling as helpless and vulnerable as I did standing in those woods really made me lose my confidence. I forced myself to stay near those boulders, straining my ears to hear any sounds that might betra
y someone trying hard to keep quiet.

  I heard nothing more than the pounding of my heart.

  After convincing myself I was alone and the feeling I had felt was nothing more than my paranoia kicking into high gear, I backed my way out of the woods and didn’t holster my semi until I was with arm’s length of one of the police cars parked in the cabin’s driveway.

  “Everything okay, Derek?” an officer from Ralph’s team asked from the front of the cabin.

  “Yeah, fine,” I said. “Thought I heard something up in the woods.”

  “We checked out the area pretty well. Isn’t anyone around up there.” He shot a glance at the plastic bag with the cell phone inside I was holding with a death grip. “You find that out there?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling more in control of my emotions. “It was beneath a boulder around thirty feet that way,” I said as I pointed towards where I believed I had just come from. “I think it’s Ralph’s. Going to have him check it out.”

  “How the hell did you know where to find it?” The officer asked.

  I gave a ten-second explanation of the contents of the black box and what was inside the envelope addressed. “There was an envelope with Ralph’s name on it, too. He’s checking it out in another room.”

  The officer removed his hat and started scratching his head. The look on his face was a combination of curiosity and deep worry. “People around here won’t be happy about all this. It took us quite a while to get people calmed down after the murders here last year. Can’t say I’m all that happy about having to start looking for that freak again.”

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, officer. I highly doubt that whoever we’re looking for is anywhere near this cabin. Hell, I’d bet he or she is five hundred miles away.”

 

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