Lula’s lips were back on my breast as she began exploring my body with her hands. My skin pulsated under her touch, hot pricks of desire lingering in her wake. My clitoris was throbbing, swollen and hard, and I knew it wouldn’t take much to send me over the edge. Lula must have known it also, because she explored every part of my body except between my thighs. The excruciating buildup of pressure was exquisite and I lifted my hips, moving my hand down out of habit to relieve the pressure.
Lula caught my hand and brought it to her lips. “Not yet, darling. Not yet,” she rasped.
“I can’t… I have to…” Again, she silenced me with a kiss and I whimpered under her lips.
“Oh, God. Your skin is so soft,” she said, splaying her hand across my stomach and behind my hips. Her hands came out on the inside of my thighs where she pushed my legs apart. She came back up where I could see her, a smile of self-satisfaction on her face. “Are you ready, honey?”
“Oh, my God, I am so ready!” I said through tortured gasps. “I think I might explode.”
She only grinned and kissed me before she went back to fondling my breasts.
“Please hurry. Old people can’t take this kind of pressure,” I lied through my teeth.
Her hands stilled as she looked up at me. “Okay, but I’m on to you. That trick will only work this one time.”
“Yes, yes, anything!” I would have promised her anything, told her anything, if only she would release me.
She disappeared from my view and a moment later I was screaming and clutching the sheets.
“I’ve got you, honey,” she said, her voice garbled through the blood pounding in my ears.
My body pulsated, lifting off as if it would soar. Just as I thought I would float back down to earth, she was inside me again, stroking, sucking, torturing me until I skyrocketed again into ecstasy.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Casey Dennis
It was late when I escorted Celine to her office to collect her things, then we went to the ICU and talked with Scottie. Celine insisted that we not mention the killer that might be after Scottie and I agreed. The woman had too heavy a burden to carry as it was. Thankfully, Cody had come through surgery just fine and was already showing signs of improvement. Scottie said that if he kept improving, she’d be able to take him home in a few days. That was another incentive for me to catch the killer, because the moment she left the hospital, she was extremely vulnerable.
Scottie was curious about the police officer out in the hallway, and I assured her it was a precautionary measure because of a rash of burglaries at the mall across the street. She seemed to accept that and even thanked me for it, and I felt guilty that I had to lie to her.
As we drove across town in Celine’s car, she told me a little bit about each doctor I would be meeting. One of them she had never met, but the other three she knew well, especially Dr. Walter Hall, the psychiatrist who was scheduled to have a session with the fourth victim. Dr. Beverly Henderson, a psychologist, was the first victim’s doctor. Dr. Steven Richardson, a psychiatrist who Celine did not know, was the second victim’s doctor and Dr. Christopher Watson was a therapist for the third victim.
Celine pulled into the parking lot of the Bistrot Italiano restaurant. Again she grilled me about not interrogating her friends as if I were entering a secret society terrified of revealing too much. In a way, I guess I was. Apparently, she ate at this restaurant frequently, because when we walked through the door she was greeted with a kiss on both cheeks by the maître d' and immediately escorted to a private banquet room in the back. A single large round table was set up in the middle of the otherwise empty room. We ordered drinks and waited for the others to arrive.
The shrinks came in one by one, giving me a little time to put them at ease. After everyone had arrived, formal introductions had been made, and we all had our drinks in hand, Celine led the discussion.
“Thank you all for agreeing to meet me here tonight. As I said on the phone, I wanted to compare notes on the horrible attacks on our patients by a serial killer. Walter hadn’t even seen his patient yet before she was murdered, and I wondered if the rest of you had counseled with the victims prior to their deaths.”
They looked at each other and then back at Celine, and nodded. They seemed reluctant to say it out loud, and I could only imagine if it was because a non-clinical person was in the room. I had a feeling I didn’t charm them as much as I had hoped.
“Beverly, the police tell me that your patient was the first victim. Do you remember anything about her?”
Beverly shook her head and took a sip of her wine. This was getting us nowhere fast.
“May I ask, was your patient a victim of abuse?” I asked.
She nodded without looking at me. One thing I learned from Celine and other shrinks like her, was that if their patients were at risk, they’d fight you tooth and nail to protect them. I had to bring the conversation around to protecting their clients. It was time to shock them into compliance.
“Your patient’s killer sat in your waiting room and watched her, stalked her, until he kidnapped her, probably from your own parking lot, and did unspeakable things to her like pulling her teeth out for a trophy, before dumping her broken body behind a damn dumpster in your fucking parking lot.”
“Casey!” Celine protested as the others gasped and glared at me.
“I apologize,” I conceded. “I know you would have protected her if you had known. Well, now you do know, so I’m asking all of you to help the other patients who are still being targeted.”
At first, Celine glared at me with a furrowed brow, but her eyes began to soften as she figured out what I was trying to do.
“I am one of those being targeted now,” she confided to the others.
“Oh, no!” Beverly exclaimed.
“Why the hell can’t the police catch this guy?” Walter growled, angrily slapping the table.
“Because you’re not helping them,” I attested bitterly, losing my control.
Celine put her hand on my arm and I capitulated. I had worked with too many psychiatrists to know they were not going to change their minds no matter how badly I wanted them to.
“I didn’t know until just a few hours ago,” she explained. “But it doesn’t change anything. We need to talk about this openly and see if there is anything in common. For instance, in Walter’s patient’s case, when our receptionist sets an appointment she asks questions that can be overheard in the waiting room. We believe that’s how she was targeted by the killer. She was there because she was abused.”
“Needless to say, we’ve changed the way patients are interviewed,” Walter added.
“We’re the same way at our clinic,” Steven offered. “I’ll talk with the staff about that tomorrow.”
“As will I,” Beverly stated.
“We’re already doing private consultation when we set an appointment,” Christopher rebutted. “So how did he know my patient was abused?”
“If I may,” I said, garnering their attention, “Your patient’s description was that she was very shy and fearful. That in itself would attract the killer’s attention.”
“Casey, would the killer also be a patient of ours?” Beverly inquired.
“That’s a good question, and the answer is yes, probably so. It would make it plausible for him to be in the waiting room.”
“So, you think we’ve had a session or two with the serial killer?” Steven asked.
“Yes, I do,” I replied.
Celine nodded. “That’s why we’re here, to compare notes and see if anything stands out.”
“I know you probably studied about serial killers in your training,” I explained. “But let me help you determine what you would be looking for from a layman’s point of view.” They looked at me intently and I felt they were finally ready to listen. “This is a man who is an average Joe with real issues that he plays up to be convincing. But the catch is, he doesn’t believe a thing that he’s tell
ing you. He thinks it’s an act to string you along so he can stalk women in your waiting room. If you ask him a specific question, he will have a detailed explanation ready. If you ask him to bring in his spouse, lover, father, mother or child who is causing his concerns, he will have an excuse as to why he can’t do that. If you ask him to describe his sexual encounters, he will most likely become agitated and defensive, and then he will proudly share his exploits to you.”
“I have a patient just like that,” Beverly exclaimed.
“As do I,” Christopher added.
Celine glanced at me, her eyes swirling with apprehension. “I also have one like that,” she said. “And he works at the hospital… as a security guard, Casey.”
Son of a bitch! Celine knew that I thought it was one of my staff and yet she waited to tell me about it in front of these people. Unconscionable!
“I can see that you’re angry, Casey, and I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, it’s just that I knew you’d be all over me to give you his name and you know I can’t do that.”
“She’s right,” Beverly declared. “We took an oath.”
“You know, come to think of it, the patient I was thinking of wore a dark blue uniform. He said he worked for a temp agency as a security guard,” Christopher stated.
A light was beginning to shine at the end of my very angry tunnel. “Okay, I get that you’re not going to give up his name, but can you at least tell me what temp agency he works for? The cops can do the rest.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know it.”
“Wouldn’t it be on his medical papers?” I asked, not willing to give up so easily. “I know they’re required to fill out a bunch of them, surely one of them asks for their place of work?”
“Yes, you’re right,” he replied, but then stopped. “But I can’t give that out to you because of HIPAA.”
“Damn it,” I exclaimed, the anger returning. “You understand that you’re forcing the police to serve you with a warrant, right?”
He shrugged again. “Our hands are tied.”
I was getting tired of this guy and started to tell him exactly what I thought about that when Celine kicked me from under the table.
“Steven, it’s not a violation if you don’t give her the patient’s name,” she explained.
“All right. Let me make a call and have our office coordinator get that information over to you.”
I pulled my wallet out and read off of Becky’s business card. “Does everyone have a pen? If you think you have been seeing a patient who might work for the security agency, you should fax or email the agency’s name to Detective Littleton.”
The other three took out a pen and a piece of paper and wrote down the number.
Steven pulled out his cellphone and called his office. I listened as he instructed the person on the other end to make sure that the patient’s name did not appear on the fax. He ended the call and put his phone away. “Now, if we’re done here,” he said, “I need to get back to the office.”
He stood up and the others did, too.
“We’re sorry, Casey,” Beverly said. “I wish we could have done more to help.”
Releasing my anger, because it was a moot point now, I nodded and said, “You did help, thank you.”
Steven glanced at me. “I can tell you one thing, Casey. You mentioned his trophies. You’ll know when you catch the right guy because he will have them on him. Maybe not all of them, but he has to keep some of them close to stroke his ego while calming his nerves. It helps him stay focused.”
Damn. He cooperates now that he’s leaving? “Good to know. We could use more advice like that if you—”
“Sorry, I can’t divide my attention between my patients and the police,” Steven said, and turned back toward the others.
“Celine, will you be all right?” Beverly asked.
“Yes, the police are watching me, I’ll be okay.”
Celine did not sound very convincing to me but Beverly seemed to accept her answer.
“Call if you need anything, all right?”
“Thanks, I will, Beverly,” Celine responded.
Walter was the only one left as the other filed out. “Celine, what can I do?”
“It’s all right, Walter. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at work tomorrow night.”
Walter nodded at both of us and then left.
“Well, that went well, didn’t it?” Celine quipped.
“Actually, it went better than I expected. We have more leads now,” I stated, pulling out my cellphone. “Excuse me while I call Detective Littleton.”
“Fine, I’m going to the bathroom,” she stated and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t talk to any strangers,” I joked and put the phone to my ear. I watched her walk out, mumbling something about it being her job to talk to strangers. As soon as she turned the corner, I stood up and followed her.
“Detective Littleton,” Becky answered.
“Becky, how fast can you get to the Bistrot Italiano restaurant? I’ve got some intel to share.”
“We’re parked right outside,” she replied.
Of course, the police were tailing Celine and Becky rode along, knowing that we were meeting with the other doctors. Clever girl.
“We’re in a private banquet room in the back, come find us.”
“On my way,” she said and the phone went dead.
I waited outside of the bathroom and laughed at the sneer Celine gave me when she came out. “Detective Littleton will be here in a minute,” I said as we walked back to the room. Becky was waiting by the door. The waitress came in and we ordered another round of drinks and Celine asked for menus because she was getting hungry. It was after six o’clock, supper time.
Looking at the menu, Celine suggested that I try something I had never had before. I ordered a steak.
“You haven’t had a steak before?” she asked, bemused.
“I’m from Texas, of course I’ve had steak before. I’ve just never had one in an Italian restaurant before.” It was good to hear her laugh again. She had either been very quiet or very angry since learning she was in danger.
Celine remained quiet as I reported to Becky everything we had learned tonight.
“So, you’re saying that we might finally be able to catch this bastard.” It was more of a declaration than a question.
“Yes. If the guy actually did work for an agency, and that agency matches the one I used, then you should be able to easily narrow it down to the murderer.”
“You don’t trust what Christopher said?” Celine asked.
“It’s not that. I don’t trust the killer to tell the truth, whether it be on paper or to his psychiatrist.”
“You make a good point,” she said, sipping from her wine glass.
I found myself mesmerized with the way her nose crinkled as she sniffed the wine each time before sipping it. As soon as the killer is caught and behind bars, I am going to take you to my bed and make love to you until you beg me to stop. Her fiery temper excited me. Her beautiful skin and red hair enticed me. Her strength and conviction humbled me. I wanted to know the whole person. I wanted to feel her soul.
Becky stepped over to the corner of the room to call the station as the waitress brought in our food.
“Put her meal on my ticket, okay?” I asked, pointing at Becky’s plate.
“Very good, ma’am,” the waitress said.
“No, put them both on my tab,” Celine insisted. “I have an account here.”
“That’s not necessary, Celine,” I protested.
“Of course, Dr. Aponte,” the waitress said, ignoring my objections.
“I asked the station to be on the lookout for some faxes with my name on it,” Becky said, sitting down again. “I rarely get any so I didn’t want them to be overlooked.”
Celine glanced over at Becky. “So, what happens next, Detective?”
“Well, if we’re lucky, we’ll be able to match up the killer with the
temp agency.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” I informed her.
“Neither do I,” Becky concurred. “There are three temp agencies specifically for security guard training and placement, and I’m going to look into all three of them. I’m sure that they will agree to help us as long as we keep their companies’ names out of it.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure they will, but don’t promise them anything they can hold over you,” I instructed, forgetting my place.
Becky snickered. “You sound a lot like my training instructor.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No, don’t be. I’m learning a lot from you. If you ever decide to join the force again, I would love to be your partner. Uh… I mean be partnered with you.”
Celine looked at her curiously, and I know she was thinking Freudian slip. Becky was intelligent and eager, but she was way too young for me. Still, Michele and Lula seemed to be having some fun, and I am not so old that I would deny myself some fun. And talking shop can be a real turn on for me. Maybe after we catch the killer… that’s always been my excuse. After I solve this case. After I put the bad guy away, I’ll have time for a social life. Even now that I’m not a detective anymore, I use that excuse. I wonder what Celine’s favorite philosopher would have to say about that.
“You know, if I ever decide to go back into the force, I’ll check out your station first.”
Becky smiled at me. “You’ve already got an offer on the table from my captain, say the word and you’re in.”
“Good to know that I have other options,” I confessed. I was enjoying being the boss at the hospital but I wondered if working on this case hadn’t slanted my perception of my new job. When this was over with, would I be happy bossing people around, reading reports most of the day, and being at the CEO’s beck and call? Which reminded me that I’d better fill him in first thing in the morning.
We finished our meal, and I had to admit, the Italian steak was pretty good. Not Texas grilled good, but edible, nonetheless. We said good night to Becky and walked out to Celine’s car.
Better the Devil You Don't Know Page 21
