“Okay, boys, we’re here,” Cash says grimly. He parks in an area that will camouflage the SUV from the road, yet give us the ability to sneak up on the crew and take them down. I’m looking forward to having this case behind us so I can focus more on finding out what Dr. Brinkley’s deal is.
Right away I know something isn’t right…it’s too quiet. Though it’s evident no one’s here, we still go through the protocol of clearing the area and making sure we’re the only ones here.
“We got problems.” Cash’s voice rings out. “We’ve got a body.”
Chapter Thirty
Windy
I’m relieved when I look up from my laptop to see the bedroom door opening and Thorn making his way in. Melissa and I had an issue with a resident’s drunk ex earlier and had to call the cops to escort him out. It’s later than usual for Thorne to be showing up. I’m surprised when I see that it’s 1 a.m. and I’ve been studying for the last three hours.
Thorn takes a seat on the bed where I’m studying and I can tell by the look on his face something is wrong. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“The guy I sent you and Johnnie to question the other day…”
“Yeah?”
“We found him dead. Somebody shot him execution style. That’s where I’ve been. We had to call the cops in and answer questions. I knew the detective on duty or we would have been at the station all night. I’m beat, and I feel like this case just keeps getting more complicated with every tip we get.”
“Well, if he was killed execution style, it was probably a rival gang.”
“I thought the same thing but when we noticed the barge was loaded with stolen cars, it kind of nixed that theory.”
“What do you mean?”
“A rival gang would have stolen the high end cars, not just left them there like that. No gangbanger is going to pass up easy money. He would have called his buddies and turned those cars over to a chop shop to make some quick cash. No, this wasn’t a rival gang, this was personal. Somebody is trying to make it look like a rival gang took him out. That tells me whoever did this has knowledge about the inner workings of a gang.”
“Damn. I wasn’t going to tell you but I had a run in with that guy today.”
Thorn is across the room to me in a split second, scowling and asking harshly, “What guy, the gangbanger?” He runs his hands up and down my arm, growling deep in his throat when he sees me wince in pain as his hand grazes the bruise on my arm. He unbuttons my top, but he’s all business as he pulls the blouse down my arms and lets it drop to the floor at my feet. His eyes blaze with rage as he gently touches the bruise that has appeared on my upper arm where the guy grabbed me.
“Yeah. He cornered me in the elevator at work. He kept asking me who I was working for. Dr. Brinkley basically rescued me from the guy.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips. Thorn’s jaw clenches so hard that I hear his teeth grind together. I rush to clarify, “He just happened to be there when I got to my floor and the elevator doors opened.”
“No, Windy,” Thorn says grimly. “He didn’t just happen to be there. Everything that guy does has a purpose and I’m beginning to believe his purpose is you.”
Chapter Thirty One
Dr. Brinkley
“Windy, you seem to be having a difficult time sleeping. If you need something to help I can write you a prescription.” I note the reservation in her expression and continue before she can reply. “Nothing says you have to take it. It will just enable you to have something on hand if you need it.”
“That’s true. I think I’m still adjusting to my schedule. I got some troubling news last night. The man who accosted me in the elevator, well, somebody killed him.”
I act like I don’t know her boyfriend is working on a car theft ring. I read all about it on her laptop memory I loaded onto the flash drive. I’ve also placed spyware on her computer. She’d be shocked to know she’s become my favorite hobby as she studies and goes about her…more personal business. Years ago when I had my home security system enhanced to monitor the hospital’s private wing that houses our criminally insane, I began studying how to hack into systems. The technical age has opened up a whole new world for those of us who are given to the act of stalking. I enjoy the power of a good stalk. There’s nothing quite like watching someone when they have no idea eyes are on them. People let their guard down when they believe no one is around. Turnabout is fair play; after all, they did break into my office. I need to keep an eye on those two.
“I’m certain with the element he associates with he has or had enemies,” I suggest benignly. “When you run with criminals, you have to expect these kinds of things will happen. I just hate that you’re being subjected to danger because of the man you’re dating.” I lean in her direction in an effort to close the emotional space between us, even though I’m still seated at my desk. It’s a trust-building move, demonstrating to her that I’m concerned for her safety. And I am concerned, very much so; but I’m attempting to lay blame on her boyfriend for her present predicament. I’m still pissed at these two for breaking into my office; what would be more gratifying than to cause a bit of discord in their little corner of the world?
“I hardly think I’d go so far as to say my life is in danger.”
“A man accosted you on the elevator. He had to have followed you here, that gang he ran with may even know where you live. Maybe you should think about going back home to live with your parents.”
“This man’s death has nothing to do with me, Dr. Brinkley.”
That man’s death has everything to do with you, my dear. She has no reason to think I was anywhere near that man last night, and certainly not because of her. Most people would never have the nerve to confront a man who is a member of a deadly gang. But I’m not afraid of a gangbanger or anyone else.
Chapter Thirty Two
Thorn
More and more, it seems that my suspicions of Windy’s boss being dangerous are justified. Could this guy be crazy enough to kill that kid down by the river because he had threatened Windy? I, of all people, understand the need to protect her, but that’s to be expected because I take care of what’s mine. The doctor is showing signs of obsession and that’s never a good thing. It doesn’t take much for someone who has developed a fixation on a woman to become a danger to the same person they believe they love—if I’m right, I’ll be here to protect her.
I hate cases like this. I know the guy’s guilty of something, but I have no proof. All I can do is warn Windy about what to look for and keep an eye on her.
“Well, that was wild finding our guy dead last night, wasn’t it?”
I look up to see Harley lowering himself into the leather chair on the opposite side of my desk, leisurely stretching his long legs out. The guy doesn’t sit; he sprawls. “Who do you think did it?” he asks.
“Well, it’s just a theory, but I can’t shake the fact that the doc Windy works for always manages to be around when something bad happens. I found out last night that kid followed Windy to work and threatened her in the elevator. The doctor went crazy on him and had him thrown out of the building. The guy was only half-conscious when he hit the sidewalk. What’s the Hippocratic Oath doctors have to take…Do No Harm? Jesus...”
“Are you sayin’ you think he’s got a thing for your woman and he killed the kid because of it?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time a psychiatrist has turned out to be a kook.”
“Man…that’s some scary shit. Oh, and nobody says ‘kook’ anymore.”
“Asshole. All the more reason for me to keep an eye on him. I’ve never felt good about the guy.”
“That’s the green-eyed monster talking, dude.”
“Maybe so, but I’ll be damned if I’m taking a chance with the life of the woman I love. I’m telling you, Harley, there is something about this guy I don’t like. Oh, and nobody says ‘green-eyed monster.’”
“Dick… Seriously, dude, you’re jealous. And yo
u just said you love her.”
I always enjoy conversations with Harley. He doesn’t talk, he spars. We both know we’re just giving each other shit, but to outside observers it can look pretty intense sometimes.
“It isn’t just that. Behind all the designer suits is a seriously troubled individual with a dark side. The guy’s got demons he’s dealing with and I won’t be satisfied until I find out what they are. And about the other thing…yeah, I do.”
“I hate to break it to you, Thorn, but we’ve all got demons. Some of us are just better at making sure they don’t come out to play.”
Harley gets up from his seat and approaches my desk with his hand extended. I know he’s referring to Windy when he clasps my hand in a firm handshake and says without a hint of his usual smartass humor, “Hey, man. Respect.”
Chapter Thirty Three
Dr. Brinkley
I hear a commotion in the hall outside my office, and as soon as I look up from my desk I know there’s going to be drama – indiscreet, rip-roaring drama. I loathe drama, but my ex-girlfriend, Deana, has no problem with it, which she demonstrates as she storms into my office and throws her purse down on top of the case file that lays open on my desk.
As is her way, she gets right to the point. “Is this her? Is this your new assistant?”
After fucking Deana for six mediocre months last year, I know that subtlety will accomplish nothing. So I’m direct. “Get out of here Deana! This is neither the place nor time for this discussion.”
No surprise, she ignores me and directs her attention at a horrified Windy. At first glance, she seems paralyzed behind her desk, but I see her hand inching toward the red panic button located on the underside of her center desk drawer. I hope to rid us of Deana’s presence without involving our security staff, but perhaps it isn’t such a bad idea. I’ll see how it plays out.
Deana wastes no time unleashing her tirade. “He’s crazy. Do you know he’s in love with a killer? Watch your back! She got rid of me and she’ll get rid of you. That crazy bitch has more power in prison than the average person free on the streets. She’s got it in her head she’s in love with him and she’ll kill anybody she views as competition.”
“I have a boyfriend; I’m not interested in Dr. Brinkley.”
“She’s a crazy bitch, stay away from her. You work with him, so she’ll see you as a threat. Like I said; watch your back--”
“Restraining orders mean nothing to you, I see?” I ask, and she has the good graces to look a little shamefaced. “No closer than fifty feet, Deana, and not on hospital property. You’re fucking up on not one, but two, levels. If I were you, I’d get the hell out before my security staff,” I give a nod toward the door where two of my men are waiting for her, “give you more help than you might feel comfortable with.”
“That…that woman…got me fired. I struck her in self-defense and you know it! She had it in for me the whole time I worked for you, and you did nothing to stop her. You ruined my career,” she sobs, “and you broke my heart.”
“I will say this once more and never again,” I warn her softly. “The security footage didn’t support your claim--”
“The film was altered, it had to be!” she yells, prompting the guards to quietly advance on her.
“And,” I continue on as if she hasn’t spoken, “nondescript, utterly forgettable fucking for a few months does not a relationship make. I never once misled you and will not tolerate your antics. Abide by the terms of the restraining order or the next time we talk will be in a courtroom. Gentlemen?” I gesture to the guards to remove her.
With that she grabs her purse, scattering pages from the file all over the floor and storms out of my office, slamming the door behind her. Wretched woman. Now I have to try and clean up the mess she made—in more ways than one. She was a fuck-up when I was using her body occasionally, and now she’s causing problems for me again. I will not have her unduly distressing Miss Fairchild.
I take a chance getting up and making my way over to Windy. I kneel down next to her chair and wrap my arms around her. One white knight, coming right up, I think with a smirk.
“Is it true?” she asks weakly. “Have you developed a fixation on your patient?” I stand and lean a hip against the side of her desk, crossing my arms in front of me in what I hope is a pensive pose.
“Perhaps. But not to the point of her being a danger to me. Or to you,” I say in my compassionate, sincere professional voice. She pulls away looking up at me with a determined gleam in her eyes.
“You know she’s dangerous and that your ex has a point. Deana may have been picking up on something you don’t see. Don’t let your history with her cloud your judgment.”
“It isn’t like that…” I just need time to convince her that my patient’s place is with me. I don’t need anyone raising red flags about my supervision of Georgia’s case -- certainly not that obsessed, worthless cunt, Deana. “I see a lot of myself in you,” I say as I make my way back to my desk, pausing only to pick up the two pages of my file that ended up on the floor. “Your eagerness to get to the bottom of why people do the heinous things they do. You want to give families closure and I find that admirable. But rest assured, Georgia isn’t a danger to me and I would never let her be a danger to anyone else.”
Chapter Thirty Four
Dr. Brinkley
In the aftermath of Deana’s deranged appearance at the hospital – and I really must speak with my security director to ensure she’s banned from the building -- I decide the best thing would be to get Miss Fairchild away from the scene of the crime, so to speak. As the saying goes, sometimes the best thing to do is get right back on the horse, so I’ve planned for us to call on Georgia this afternoon.
I open the door and step to the side. Ladies first, of course.
“I think we could both use some time away from that office.”
“Where are we?” she asks as she looks around. I didn’t include this on my previous tour.
“We’re in an interview room.”
I smile when she looks around me and peers through the small pane of glass in the metal door and sees our guest.
“It’s Georgia. Why do you have her in a different interview room?”
“Always such excellent questions, Miss Fair--, er, Windy,” I reply, smiling stiffly. “I’ve found it’s better to switch things up with this particular patient. The worst thing you can do is develop habits with a serial killer.”
I take a moment to look Windy in the eye to stress the seriousness of what I’m saying. “Don’t make the mistake of letting her get inside your head. The last thing you need is a serial killer toying with your thought processes. Keep in mind, all serial killers are predators; they’re always looking for weakness to prey upon. Female serial killers are more enigmatic; it’s the reason they’re coveted as research subjects. You have an opportunity that most professionals would love to have. If you think a male serial killer is dangerous, multiply that a thousand times with a female. I think it’s time for you to familiarize yourself more with the mind of a female serial killer. Putting her in a different room will throw her off and she’s more apt to reveal more of herself to you. Always remember everything she does has a purpose; if she opens up to you, she has a motive. It’s up to you to figure out what it is.”
“Well, I hope none of this lines up with the warnings your girlfriend had for me. If she’s right about Georgia wanting to rid your world of me, I deserve to know.”
“She has some emotional issues when it comes to me, but I don’t think your life is in danger.” I smile to put her mind at ease but she doesn’t appear to be convinced.
We enter the interview room and Georgia wastes no time starting in on my assistant.
“Well, well, well, have you brought your little lap dog trainee to study my criminal mind again, Doctor?”
I eye the woman handcuffed at the table. She looks like anything but a black widow with her porcelain skin, blue eyes and her light blonde
hair. She’s the kind of woman who’s every man’s dream…until she isn’t. Seems she has a penchant for drugging her victims before she performs her little blood bath; but only after she wins their trust. She likes to hurt them first, so badly that they’re begging for her to take their life. There comes a point in torture sessions where the victim will do anything to escape the pain—even die.
“Why don’t you fill my trainee in on what prompts you to entice a man to love you just for the pleasure of killing him.”
“Don’t you know? It’s simple, really; I get rid of them before they can get rid of me. Men are all the same,” she says, glaring at me pointedly. “They set out to conquer you, but once they do they become bored and toss you aside.”
“That’s no reason to kill them.” I calmly speak to her. I wonder if she’d kill me if her fantasy of having me at her mercy ever became real.
“The men I killed were married men having affairs. I just saved their families from having to endure what I did as a child.”
“So you blame your childhood?”
“Perhaps.”
“That doesn’t explain why you feel the need to gain the trust of your victims before you kill them. You could just off them without going to the trouble of forging such a personal connection.”
“Because…it proves to the world what I already know, men think with their cocks not their minds. I’m only showing the world just how barbaric men really are. And the more intimate the connection, the more gratifying the kill,” she says as she shifts restlessly in her chair. “Am I right or am I right, Doctor?” Her blue eyes penetrate through me and I’m glad I sat down because the metal table is hiding my hardened cock. And from the smug little smirk on her face she knows it too.
Windy
Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2) Page 13
