Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set (62 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Kelly had just finished a stint in the O.R. with an infant born with his intestines outside his body. The baby was now stable and Kelly was confident there wouldn’t be any complications.

As she headed into the break room to change out of her surgical gown and cap, she nearly collided with Dr. Brightman. She’d planned on confronting him at some point that day, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. There was no time like the present. “Brightman.” She smiled. “I wanted to talk with you.”

“Kind of in a hurry, Morales. I’ve got a patient in maternity with pre-eclampsia.”

“I just need two minutes of your time.”

His handsome face creased into a frown. “What’s on your mind?”

“A couple of patients you saw in the ER a little over a week ago. One was a Naomi Williams and the other was Desiree Jones. I wanted to see their charts.”

“What’s this about?” Brightman crossed his arms.

Kelly wasn’t sure how much to tell him. “I don’t think Lupe Salazar’s death was caused by drug addiction.”

Brightman held up a hand. “Why does any of that concern you? And I’m sorry, but you need to refresh my memory because I have a heavy patient load.”

“Lupe Salazar was the girl brought in here just a couple of nights ago. I delivered her baby. You oversaw her case. She passed away.”

“Okay.”

She forged ahead. “The thing is, the labs I am getting back on the baby are inconclusive. I also read over Miss Salazar’s chart and it’s the same thing.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Again, Morales, I am not sure what you’re asking.” He glanced at his watch. “And I need to get going.”

Kelly put up a hand to stop him from leaving. “From what I understand, Desiree Jones’ and Naomi Williams’ deaths were very similar, but unlike Lupe Salazar, their babies did not survive. I asked Dr. Hamilton about the deaths. This hospital has had three very similar cases in a short period of time. Three women died and only one baby survived. That baby is in my unit now. I have not been able to read over the charts on all three girls yet, but my gut tells me they are somehow linked. I would think since you were also on all three of these cases that you might be a tad concerned, Doctor.”

“I’m sorry, Morales, but you are not making a lot of sense. All three of those girls were probably runaways and living on the street. In fact, if I remember correctly, one of the kids was living in the tenements and another at the shelter. Who knows what they were into. You and I both know lab reports aren’t always on the money. Focus on the baby in the unit. I don’t think you’ll find anything where the women are concerned. There is nothing linking them except they were poor, uneducated, and homeless.”

“Maybe it’s true, but even so, they were human beings and their deaths should not go unchecked. That would be wrong.”

“Hey, call me an asshole, call me amoral. Whatever. What I do know is I have to go. I have other patients. I think you’re wasting your time and frankly, I don’t know what you are looking for. Good luck with the baby, Morales.”

With that he turned and walked away. Kelly’s jaw dropped. She most certainly would call him an asshole…and more. But then she started to wonder…did he know more than he was telling her? Was his nonchalance an act? Was it possible Dr. Brightman murdered Jake or was somehow involved with Jake’s murder? The thought made her cringe. Maybe she shouldn’t have shown him all her cards. She could believe Brightman was an ass, but a killer? That really did not add up for her. Then again, she would have never believed her friend and colleague would be murdered in cold blood in the same hospital she worked in.

Kelly changed quickly and decided to go find the officer assigned to protect her at work. It was time to call it a day. But before she did that, she checked back in with Eric.

“Hey, Doc, about ready to head out?” Eric called out as she approached Baby S’s incubator.

“I am. Everything good?”

“Yeah. Take a look at our little one here.” He pointed down to the baby who lay sleeping inside her simulated womb, the fluorescent lights still beating down on her bare back. “The bleeder seems to have stopped.”

Kelly noticed how peaceful she looked among all the tubes. “Excellent. She looks to have quieted down in the last few hours. I hope she keeps improving. Have social services been by?” she asked, knowing Baby S. was now likely a ward of the state, unless a father or grandparents could be located.

“Not that I’m aware of. If she keeps this up over the next few days, we’ll be able to take her off the IMV and put her on C-Pap. What do you think?”

“I’d think it’s a possibility. Wouldn’t that be a blessing?”

“Sure would.” Eric’s emerald eyes lit up.

“Keep an eye on her, and if she continues improving, then we know we’re on the right track. I wish to hell we knew what drug her mother had been using.”

“You still think a drug did this?

“My gut does.”

“Gotta trust that. Labs came back inconclusive again?” he asked.

“Yes. I confronted Brightman about the cases he was on. He was a dead end. And with Pearson on vacation, I don’t think I will find any answers there. It seems awfully coincidental, or at least a bit strange, that the people I want to speak with are either out of town or think I am wasting my time. Maybe I’m being paranoid or overly sensitive. I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think it’s pretty strange. And, no, you’re not being paranoid or sensitive. Hey, I did get a hold of the charts you asked for on those girls. They’re on your desk.”

“Thank you.”

“I think you’ll be disappointed,” he said.

“You take a look?”

He nodded. “But I could have missed something. From what I read, nothing stood out. The labs came back the same as Lupe Salazar’s.”

“Damn.”

Eric put an arm around her and they both stood watching over Baby S. “We will save her. She’s doing great.” He looked down at the sleeping infant and smiled.

“I have to believe that’s true. But what if more girls come into this hospital and die in the same way? What if we lose more children? If we can find out what’s going on, get on top of it, we can at least treat those patients.”

“I think you need some rest. And whatever I can do to help, I will,” Eric said.

“Right now the best thing we can do is keep a low profile. I’m going to keep nosing around. I think I will take those charts with me and look over them tonight at home. I have to wonder if someone isn’t tampering the charts. Do you know very many people in the lab? ”

“A few, but I can’t imagine any of them doing something like that.” Eric shook his head.

“I hear you, but I can’t imagine Jake being viciously murdered right here in this hospital. Someone here knows something about it. I guarantee it.”

“I don’t know what to say, Doc. Call me if you need to talk.”

“I will and vice versa.” Kelly smiled. She didn’t want to tell him about the police protection. It would only worry him more.

“I assume you’re going to Jake’s funeral tomorrow?”

Kelly’s hands began to shake. She’d been trying hard all week to forget the funeral. She nodded.

After a few seconds he said, “You know I’m here for you. I want to help you find the answers you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.” Kelly glanced at her watch. “I better get going.” She knew Officer Simmons was waiting to hand her off. She headed to her office, grabbed the charts, and found Simmons in the family waiting room. He folded up his newspaper and stood. She had to check in with him hourly, unless she was in the O.R. or dealing with an emergency.

“Hey Dr. Morales, looks like it’s quitting time. Pazzini should be here soon. You did say you got off at seven, right?” He rubbed his goatee.

Kelly discovered Simmons was a pretty decent guy when she popped her head into the waiting room and spotted him joking around with a few of the mothers. Getting parents of a sick child to laugh was no easy feat. He’d earned her respect. “I guess we’d better go.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m needed at my sister’s wedding rehearsal. Frankly, I’m surprised Pazzini even let me off.”

She shook her head. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Is Pazzini a jerk?”

Simmons was rubbing the goatee again, his mouth puckered, eyes squinting. “Nah, not really. He just takes his job real serious. He’s a good guy. A lot better than most of the guys down at the station.” He shrugged. “He’s got a tough guy exterior but he’s soft on the inside. That’s my take anyway.”

“I think it’s going to be an interesting evening,” she commented.

He laughed. “I can’t argue with that. One thing I do know about Pazzini…he is an interesting guy. Never know what you might learn.”

“I can’t wait.” She smirked and the headed down to the lobby.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Ryan drove to Copenhagen, shaved his head bald, and got his ears pierced four times in one ear and six in the other.

***

Jeanine landed in New York and took a bus to the Bronx. She rented a car from some shady car rental place and headed to New Jersey. She knew this was not Ryan’s plan. But this was her home territory and she needed to ground herself before heading to their cabin in the Catskills. She just needed to be in her hometown, if only for a little while.

The twins complained and then mommy put on their favorite dvd and they sang silly songs from The Wiggles. Soon they were whispering to each other and after another fifteen minutes, they were asleep.

***

Ryan went to a tattoo shop and had a cross tattooed on his right shoulder and the initials J, C, and T on his left shoulder. It hurt like hell.

***

Jeanine wanted to call her husband and scream at him. What the hell had he gotten them into? What had he done? Her hands were shaking as she held the cell phone. She was supposed to toss it before she left Europe. He’d been explicit about that. But goddammit, didn’t she have any say in this? Her thoughts and memories now plagued her. She thought about calling her best friend, Melanie, and going there instead. Tell Mel the truth, and not continue with this ridiculous story about Ryan cheating on her. Maybe Ryan was insane. At that moment she didn’t know anything, anything at all.

***

Ryan stopped at a pawn shop and purchased a hunting knife. He needed some kind of weapon on him. Just in case. He then bought a few groceries, including a bottle of Vodka. After he rented a room on Reventlowsgade. He ate a bag of potato chips and a banana and then leaned against the head board in the filthy motel room and fought back an urge to sob. He’d come this far. He had to go the distance. There was every possibility The Brotherhood had figured out he’d gone MIA and Jeanine and the kids had disappeared. He counted his money. He’d been secreting cash away in small amounts for months so The Brotherhood would not notice. He’d put away almost 970 euros. Hopefully it would be enough.

***

Jeanine sat at the edge of the double bed, flipping through the TV channels—the girls, thankfully, asleep with a Happy Meal in their stomachs and tired from the long flight. She was exhausted. She’d known the second she’d looked into Ryan’s eyes that night at the party…they were in trouble.

***

Ryan jumped at every noise outside his motel room. He was anxious and tried to focus. He needed to plot out his next steps. He tucked his money away and opened the bottle of Vodka and took two swigs hoping it would calm him. It didn’t. He contemplated his sanity and if he would ever see his wife and daughters again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gem was on the phone with her sixteen-year-old son, Austen. He was complaining about his dad’s rules and how badly he wanted to move back home and live with her. “Come on, Mom. Dad is such an ass.”

“Sorry, Austen. If I remember correctly, I was the ass not long ago. You boys always think the person asking you to help with the yard or wash the dishes is an ass. It’s Dad’s turn now, bud. I like being the fun parent for a change.”

“You’re no fun if you don’t let me come home.”

“Yeah I know. I like totally suck. Whatever. Listen, sweetie, I love you very much. But, I think you forget that you and Kurt begged me to let you move. You both laid a heavy guilt trip on me about not spending enough time with your dad, and how I raised you, and should I go on? I let you go. It wasn’t easy but I wanted to do the right thing for you boys. You know, let you get to know your dad. Now you guys made your choice and as much as you both may not like it, it is what it is. You changed schools to do this. I don’t want to switch back and I don’t want to make the forty-five minute trip twice a day.”

“I’ll have my license soon.”

Gem looked upward at the ceiling. The kid was incorrigible. As she was trying to figure out how to say no to him (not easy for her), she heard a voice coming from upstairs. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. What the hell? “Hey, I gotta go. Um, I’ll call you later.”

“But, Mom…”

“Later, bud.” She hung up the phone before he could respond any further. The sound of someone’s voice still carried on in her bedroom.

It took her about thirty seconds to figure it out. It was the wire tap from across the street and the voice she heard was Chad’s. She bolted up the stairs, sat down behind her desk, and began listening intently.

“Yes, sir. Yes, I understand. I am flying under the radar. I promise. Yes, I will be at the meeting tonight. I’m leaving in about fifteen minutes.” Gem wished she’d had the technology and time to install a wire that would allow her to hear both sides of the conversation. But that would have taken more time and included hardwiring, which her ex-husband had never taught her. However, Chad’s end of the conversation continued and it didn’t take long for her to start piecing some of it together. “Of course I understand how important this is. Okay. Yes, sir. Give Aunt Elizabeth my best. I will let you know. Thank you. Good night.”

Aunt Elizabeth! Elizabeth Wentworth! So that was the connection! The senator was Chad’s uncle. Ha!

Gem began to scramble. Car keys…car keys…on the kitchen counter. She ran back down the stairs, grabbed her camera bag from the entry closet, slipped on her tennis shoes, and headed out to her car. There was only one way in and out of the townhouse community and knowing Chad was headed to an important meeting of some sort—one where discretion was of the utmost importance—Gem figured she’d better follow him and see exactly where he was going and, if possible, find out what he was involved in.

She got behind the wheel of her navy blue Chevy Malibu and squealed out of her garage. She beat the light, left their gated complex, and parked across the street. Chad drove a sleek, silver Porsche 911, and she waited until she saw its gleam at the light. There was no mistaking him.

She plugged in her IPOD and dialed up some Bob Marley, hoping the tempo and upbeat lyrics would calm her. Her heart was pounding as she pulled into traffic three cars behind Chad.

A moving truck got in her way as they headed south on the 101. Gem switched lanes and lowered her speed. She doubted her neighbor had any idea what kind of car she drove, but thankfully the sun was beginning to set. Right now, darkness and anonymity were her friends.

Minutes later he exited off of Lankershim. She stayed with him, keeping four cars in between them. He turned east, and the further he went, the more desolate it got, and the more she had to back off so she wasn’t spotted.

Out of caution she slowed down and lost sight of him as the sun dipped below the horizon. Then she spotted his car far ahead. And saw where he was going. There were no other headlights, but she could see a line of cars heading up a long, steep drive, behind a heavy iron gate. The place appeared to be a ranch of some sort. She drove by slowly. A guard stood outside, and she passed by on the main road without so much as an inquisitive glance in his direction.

Gem pulled her car off to the side of the road about a half-mile past the gate and grabbed her camera equipment. The heavy weight tugged on her short frame. She hiked back toward the compound, ranch, whatever it was, staying low in a ditch between the road and an open field. She got closer. Tumbleweeds shielded her from the cars pulling into the ranch. Maybe some kind of party? From her vantage point, though, she couldn’t see any women. Nice cars, too. Mercedes, a Jaguar, Maserati, and a couple of BMWs.

From what she could see with her close-up lens, the men entering the palatial villa were white and varied in age from thirty to sixty years. It was difficult for Gem to tell exactly because she couldn’t get too close without being spotted, plus she had no idea what kind of security system the place had, but if she had to guess, she was pretty sure it was locked down tighter than Fort Knox. There were also a couple of uniformed guards walking around with Dobermans. She was sure those guard dogs would be straining at their leashes if they had even the slightest inkling she was there. She froze when she noticed one of the beady-eyed canines looking her way. It started to bark frantically. She sunk onto her belly next to a small boulder praying the dog’s nose wasn’t working well. Man it was uncomfortable—dirt and little pebbles digging into her body. She was pretty sure she felt something crawl up her shirt. She wiggled in an attempt to smash it.

One of the guards yelled an order at the barking dog who immediately stopped. Gem let out a sigh of relief but realized she was far from safe. She waited several minutes before lifting her head again. The sun was descending rapidly in the west and she had little time, if any, to gather more intel. She could make out one man at the front door, his shadowy figure vaguely familiar. Gem smiled at the realization that it was her neighbor, Chad. “Gotcha!” She snapped a photo. And then began taking picture after picture. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was photographing or how good the photos would come out, but she felt they were important and would eventually help tell the whole story.

Once all the men were in the house, she used her zoom lens to scan and shoot the cars parked inside the compound, trying to get as many license plates as she could. Soon darkness took over and blanketed the valley with only the lights of the compound and estate to illuminate the empty hills. Gem’s adrenaline rush had reduced to a slow simmer and she knew it was time to get the hell out of there.

She made it back to her car. She was anxious to get back to her place, so she could develop the photos. Something told her she was about to give her boss the story of a lifetime.