Deadly Seduction (10 page)

“This one.” Erin pressed the key fob, unlocking the doors of her rental car.

“Trunk,” Max said.

While he slid his bag in next to hers, she moved to the driver’s side. A red SUV barreled around the corner. That fast, Max was there, pressing her back flat against the car as if to shield her.

She gasped, startled by his lightning reflexes. The SUV swerved on the wet pavement, then straightened before shooting ahead to a parking spot.

Max didn’t move, and for a crazy moment she didn’t want him to. His abdomen pressed into hers. He was solid. Hard. And the feel of his body against hers wasn’t unpleasant. She wanted him to stay there. She wanted to fantasize about being in his embrace. She wanted to be crushed by the weight of his rock-hard body…

“Look at me.” He turned her face up, giving her no choice but to stop her lascivious thoughts and meet his gaze.

The man was tall, six three or four. She tilted her chin.
Big mistake.
Inside, Max’s dark eyes had looked black, but now they seemed to glint with a fire that promised a deadly seduction.

Her vision blurred. The rain, she thought. She felt his fingertips graze against her temple.

“I won’t let you get hurt,” he whispered.

She pressed a hand against his chest. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?” His voice was low. An invitation to burn in his arms.

Suddenly self-conscious, she straightened. “I’m sure.”

As fast as he’d moved in, he now stepped away. A car horn honked and she realized someone waited for her space. Shoving her handbag onto the floor in front of her seat, she climbed in and started the car, grateful to have something to do.

And as soon as she pulled out into traffic, she realized she had another problem. Where to go? She decided to stay in the general vicinity of the hospital. Even though Max didn’t seem like a threat at the moment, that could change. He could wig out on her yet, like his friend had.

“While we drive, why don’t you tell me what you do know about Taz,” Max suggested. “Don’t cut any corners this time, or I’m bailing.”

She realized that he was growing more lucid. That was good. “What I said earlier was true. Like you, Taz was brought in unconscious but he came to while having an MRI. He was disoriented and overpowered the technician, breaking the man’s arm before fleeing. Must have had a claustrophobia attack that made him panic.”

“And where do they believe he is now?”

“We’re not sure. We had received a report of a man matching his description out on a bridge.”

“Did they confirm it’s Taz?”

“No.”

“Take me there.”

“I can’t.” Erin felt a mild sense of dread. Was this why Max had agreed to take her along? Because he thought she could lead him to Taz? Now that he knew she couldn’t, that she was of no use to him, would he try to get rid of her?

“Can’t or won’t?” Max pressed.

She tried to stall, not wanting to admit she’d have to call Winchette to get the location. “I’m not familiar with the city. I just flew in a few hours ago.”

Because it was less obvious than checking her wristwatch, she glanced at the dashboard clock while calculating her next move. Usually at shift change the nurses going off duty briefed their replacements, which bought her a little time before anyone noticed Max wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

But eventually someone would go into Max’s room and discover he was gone.

Just then her cell phone started going off in her pocket. She flinched slightly at the sound, her stomach sinking. It could only be Dr. Winchette. Did he know? How in the hell was she going to handle this? Pretend that she wasn’t aware of Max’s disappearance? Or try to somehow alert Winchette to the situation?

Without thinking, she tugged her phone out. Max’s hand closed around hers before she could answer it.

“You want to be very careful, Doc.”

It rang once more then went to voice mail.

“It was probably Dr. Winchette. If I don’t answer, he’ll just keep calling.”

The phone beeped now. Max glanced at the display then withdrew his hand. “You have a message. Put it on speakerphone.”

Erin complied. Dr. Winchette’s voice came across the speaker. “The bridge sighting was a false alarm. A complete waste of time. I’m on my way back to the hospital now. Mr. Duncan will be moved tonight and I’d like you to accompany him. I’ll be staying behind until they locate this John Doe. Call me as soon as you get this message.”

“That answers my question about Taz,” Max said, rubbing his temples.

“Are you okay? Look, we could go back to the hospital—”

“Pull over. I feel sick.”

Erin whipped the car into a deserted parking lot. As soon as she stopped, Max opened his door and climbed out. Throwing the car into
PARK
, she exited and raced to help him.

“It’s better if you stay seated, Max.” She moved in close and hooked his arm around her shoulder to guide him back toward the car. “If you pass out—”

He lurched forward. She swung forward, facing him and catching him in a bear hug. He was too heavy for her to carry, but she could at least break his fall to avoid him injuring himself. Locking her arms around his waist, she leaned into his chest, bracing herself.

Too late she realized the trap as his arms tightened around her. Holding her pinned against him, he lifted her off her feet with one arm.

“Look at me, Erin.”

She resisted and he once again caught her chin and forced her to look up. Her breath caught as his eyes held her. They were mesmeric, the irises dark, glittering with hints of silver. And something hypnotic. A sensation of warmth swirled through her, dulling her senses momentarily. Her skin tingled as if tiny electrical sparks were traveling through him…to her. She never knew how much she could feel…want…

She jerked as the bizarre sensation strengthened. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

“We’re not going back to the hospital, Erin.”

There was a stinging jab in her left buttock as he injected her with the syringe.

“No, Max!”

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered.

“Like hell I won’t!”

But already his voice sounded distant. “I’m sorry, Erin. But I need you. Need your help.”

Mission incomplete.

Taz ignored the words as he studied the hospital from his perch atop the half-complete parking garage. He ran the blade of the stolen knife across the tips of his fingers. The pain was short lived since the cuts began to heal almost immediately. But it silenced the chatter long enough for him to think. To remember.

It finally settled in that he was really free and in control. But he wouldn’t rest until Hades was free, too.

Impatience ate at him.
Just a few more minutes, till shift change
, he thought.
And I’ve already waited this long.

He had ended up spending the evening at a homeless shelter. Volunteering to scour pots had scored him extra food. God, he’d been hungry. Kitchen duty also kept him out of the main dining room when the police did a walk-through.

“They’re always here, always looking for one of us poor bums to blame,” Frenchy told him later.

Frenchy had befriended him after Taz inadvertently came to his rescue, stumbling down an alley near the hospital and scaring off some troublemaking teens. Taz’s bouts of vomiting hadn’t fazed Frenchy, who chalked it up to Dumpster diving.

“Come on,” Frenchy had said. “I know where we can get a real meal if you don’t mind ’em thumping Bibles while you eat.”

At the shelter, Taz also received an outfit of clothes, a shower, and a bus pass by simply signing up to search for work. The bus pass came in handy later, when he and Frenchy returned to the makeshift homeless camp near the hospital.

Taz ended up trading the pass to another guy who knew someone who worked in the hospital.

“They got a couple John Does stashed on the third floor,” the guy had reported back. “Rooms 320 and 322.”

Mission incomplete.

I’m coming, Hades!

Taz checked the hospital again. Finally! Small groups of people were leaving as others entered. Time to kick his plan into high gear.

He slipped on the white lab coat he’d stolen earlier from a car. Moving tentatively, he made his way out of the construction site.

Once inside the hospital he commandeered a lab cart and headed toward the service elevators. On the third floor, no one gave him a second glance, save the cleaning lady. He winked at her and headed purposefully down the hall.

Room 322 was empty. But Taz knew immediately that Hades had been in Room 320. The discarded hospital gown on the floor, the shredded bed sheets and restraints indicated a struggle.

Had Hades been forced to go elsewhere?

Uneasy memories shimmered. Always they’d been forced to—

Outside the door, he heard footsteps. One person, headed this way.

“Perfect.”

Getting answers might be easier than he’d thought. He ducked into the bathroom, his knife ready.

Stanley Winchette paused outside Max Duncan’s room and tried Erin’s phone again. Still no answer. In his rush to chase down John Doe, Stanley hadn’t thought to ask about hotel reservations earlier, which meant she was probably asleep, oblivious to the problems she’d caused.

What the hell had she been thinking, questioning his orders?

When he’d stopped at the nurses’ station a few minutes ago, he learned that Erin had disputed Max’s medication. The nurse had ultimately called Dr. Giles after Stanley failed to return Dr. Houston’s call.

What call? His phone showed one missed call and that was a message from Giles stating he had belayed all action until he could reach Stanley. On top of everything else, Erin’s colossal screwup had triggered a game of telephone tag between the two men.

Damn Travis Franks and Dante Johnson for insisting she come along. Now Erin could be the fly in the ointment. Just like her father had been.

Of course, since babysitting two unconscious men was more than Stanley could realistically manage on his own, he would have been forced to bring someone. And while not the total pushover he had hoped she’d be, Erin was definitely more malleable than Colby Deets.

Deets would have raced him here and then dogged Stanley’s every step, questioned his every move. Recently, Deets’s intense attention to everything Stanley did—especially with Caldwell Pharmaceuticals—had almost become a liability.

In reality, Erin’s
faux pas
was simply the last straw in a day that had gone from bad to worse. The few small upticks, like the burst of excitement he’d felt at thinking they’d located John Doe, now seemed more like tripping points.

The bridge jumper had not been Doe after all and that was a mixed blessing. It meant they still had a chance of finding him. Provided that John Doe did, in fact, have a tracking beacon implanted on his person and that Abe Caldwell could get a tracking device here quickly enough.

Pocketing his cell phone, Stanley pushed open the door to Max’s room. It was crucial that Max’s medications be maintained to avoid any more surprise awakenings. For now, Stanley would sedate him and adjust the next dose after speaking with Giles.

Inside the room he stopped short. The bed was empty, the straps and sheets in disarray. Dear God, not again!

A slight noise in the bathroom had Stanley pressing his hand to his sternum in relief. Max was still here!

Opening his briefcase, he quickly removed one of the syringes he had prepared for John Doe. Un-capping it, he hid the syringe in one hand. After years of working with unstable, delusional patients, he had developed a technique for administering a shot quickly. The trick was making certain they never saw the needle.

Clearing his throat, Stanley rapped on the door. “Max? Are you okay?”

The door swung open. But it wasn’t Max Duncan he confronted.

“You!” Stanley tried to recall the name Travis Franks had mentioned. “Taz?”

The man didn’t respond, his eyes vacant.

Stanley kept his voice low and even. “We’ve been searching for you. Your friends will be relieved to know you’re unharmed. I’m Dr. Winchette, a friend of Max’s. Where is Max, by the way?”

Taz rocked sideways. “Where is Hades?”

Stanley played along. “You mean the man who was with you, correct? I’ve been taking care of him.”

“Take me to him. Now!”

“Yes, of course. But can we talk out here?” Stanley backed up slightly, holding the door open. Given Taz’s size, hitting him from behind was much safer. “Was, um, Hades still here when you first arrived?”

“No.” Taz stepped forward, but instead of moving past Stanley, Taz pinned him flat against the bathroom door.

A strong forearm beneath his neck prevented Stanley from screaming while an iron grip at his wrist immobilized the hand with the syringe.

Stanley didn’t move, afraid that the slightest pressure would jam the needle into his own skin. Damn it, where was a nurse when he needed one?

“Easy,” Stanley whispered. “I want to help you.”

“Tell me where they took Hades. Is he already with Dr. Rufin? Must meet…Rufin.”

“You know Dr. Rufin?” Stanley’s mind began racing. Could this man help them locate the mysterious Rufin and recover Zadovsky’s files? “Please. We need to talk. You’re in danger, but I can help. You must trust me.”

Taz snapped Stanley’s wrist. Pain spasmed up his arm as the syringe hit the floor.

“Zadovsky is the enemy,” Taz snarled, pressing closer.

What the hell?
Stanley suddenly had the uneasy impression the other man was literally reading his mind. Except…that was impossible.

Taz shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“That was Dante.” Rocco snapped his cell phone closed. He and Travis had just taken a table at the deserted all-night diner next to their hotel.

“You told him the latest on John Doe?”

Rocco nodded. After confirming that the suicide jumper fished from the water was not the missing John Doe, Travis had suggested pulling the plug on what was left of the night.

The plan was to catch a little shut-eye and regroup at sunrise. None of them had had more than a four-hour stretch of sleep since the mission began. Hell, for Rocco, a
good night’s sleep
equaled five hours. Preferably after hot sex.

“They should be here in a few minutes,” Rocco went on. “Cat’s going to drop Dante and Marco off here and then go on to the hospital.”

It was hoped that Catalina Dion’s presence would help jolt Max out of his coma. She’d been friends with Max for a lot longer than Rocco. Close friends.

After being told that Dante and Max had supposedly died on an overseas assignment, Cat must have been elated to learn that Max, too, was alive. The two men resurfacing was biblical in proportion. The equivalent of Lazarus rising.

It made Rocco wonder how Gena Gambrel would react if they found Harry alive. Would all the mistakes and mishaps from their past be forgotten?

Would Gena welcome her ex-husband home with a chance at a do-over?

Probably not. The water under that particular bridge was tainted. Which didn’t stop Rocco from wondering if Gena could ever forgive him.

God, maybe his last girlfriend was right…men
were
assholes.

Travis’s phone started to ring just as their waitress came over and introduced herself as Kimmie. She pointed playfully at Travis’s phone. “It’s after two a.m. Technically, you can ignore that.”

“They’ll just keep calling. I’ll have the special. Eggs over easy. Be right back,” Travis said before moving away to take the call.

Kimmie leaned in close to Rocco. “And what can I get you, sugar?”

He eyed the swells of her breasts as she openly flirted. She was wearing one of those bustier things that made men go stupid in less than sixty seconds. The process was relative to cup size. The fact that Kimmie had dusted her generous curves with body glitter didn’t help.

Neither did the memory of his last phone conversation with his girlfriend, Maddy. Or ex-girlfriend, as Maddy had harshly reminded him.
I’m tired of being forgotten at the drop of a hat.

Damn it. He didn’t mean to forget. Maddy deserved better. It was just…men were assholes.

He shifted his gaze away from Kimmie. Through the plate glass window behind her, Rocco caught sight of Travis pacing outside the restaurant. Whatever the call, it wasn’t good. As he watched, a cab pulled up to the curb, discharging Cat and Dante.

Dante had his sleeping son cradled in his arms. Travis quit his call and motioned for them to follow him into the restaurant.

Travis’s fierce scowl telegraphed bad news.

Rocco sighed. Looking at Kimmie, he released the dream of waking up from a good night’s sleep with glitter all over his face.

“Better make it two coffees. Black.”

“To go,” Travis amended.

Rocco stood and hugged Cat, before turning back to Travis. “Don’t tell me. There was another John Doe spotting. Why don’t you let me handle this one? You go grab some sleep.”

“None of us will be sleeping after this.” Travis held up his phone. “That was hospital security. Dr. Winchette is dead. His body was found in the bathroom of Max’s room. Looks like his neck was snapped.”

“Jesus!” Rocco ran a hand through his hair. “What happened? Is Max okay?”

“Max has disappeared. A nurse was making rounds and found his bed empty. She checked the bathroom and found Winchette’s body. They think Max must have awakened disoriented like John Doe did. And he wouldn’t have known Winchette from the man in the moon.”

Cat drew a sharp breath. “We have to find him.”

“Yeah, well, there’s more,” Travis said. “It appears Dr. Houston is missing now, too. She was last seen going into Max’s room. One of the security films from a stairwell caught an image of her with Max just before he disabled the camera. They’re checking other cameras around the grounds.”

“When do they think it happened?” Dante asked.

“Less than an hour ago. Around shift change, when everyone was busy,” Travis said. “The police have been called in but it will take them a while to piece together what happened. That gives us a chance to find them first.”

“Erin mentioned having a rental car,” Rocco said. “If they’re in it, we can trace it with LoJack.”

“I’ll get her credit card and cell phone records,” Travis said. “ATM, too. If he’s coherent, Max would know to use cash.”

“Shit.” Dante looked at Rocco then Travis. “I left a bag with clothes, a cell phone, and some cash.”

“How much?”

“A thousand.”

“Ouch. You have the cell phone number, though, right?” Travis asked.

“Of course.”

“Okay, let Cat start calling that number.” Travis turned to Cat. “I think he’ll feel safer talking to you.”

“I’m on it,” she said.

“Dante, I want you to pull his last known addresses. Find what’s familiar. Friends. Family,” Travis continued. “Cat, you’ve known Max longer. Didn’t he have an uncle who lived on one of the reservations out here?”

“Arizona,” she said. “Max lived with him off and on during grade school. He died, though, when Max was in the Army.”

They grew quiet as Kimmie drew close again. Rocco handed her enough cash to cover the coffee and a generous tip.

“Listen up. This isn’t going to be easy to hear,” Travis went on as soon as they were alone again. “Max is one of us, but he’s been held two years, under extremely questionable circumstances. With Winchette dead, I’ve got to assume Dr. Houston’s life is at risk as well.”

Cat shook her head. “I know this sounds crazy, but Max won’t harm her. I guarantee it.”

“Guarantee?” Travis repeated. “Look, at the risk of sounding insensitive, if there is something in particular you know about Max that would help us locate him, I need to know it.”

Rocco knew Travis was referring to the rumored involvement between Cat and Max.

But if Cat felt awkward having an old love affair mentioned in front of her fiancé, Dante, she didn’t show it.

“It is a private matter,” she acknowledged. “And it’s not what you’re thinking.” She moved closer to Dante as she spoke and pressed a kiss to her sleeping son’s forehead. “What I’m referring to will shed no light on where Max is. Still, I’ll give you a full explanation
after
I tell Dante about it.”

“Fair enough,” Travis said. “Dante, you and Cat stay here; start tracing Max and Dr. Houston’s records. Rocco and I will head back to the hospital and work that end.”

Outside, the sky was masked by heavy clouds that promised rain. A lone siren pierced the night. Rocco drove back to the hospital as Travis fielded phone calls.

The tiredness Rocco had felt earlier was replaced by a heavy tension. A woman was missing and a man was dead. Both were last seen in Max’s room. And while they lacked witnesses to Winchette’s murder, the circumstances didn’t bode well for Max.

“Goddamnit! When did that happen?” Travis said into his phone. “Find out and call me back!”

Rocco glanced sideways. “Word on Max?” he asked when Travis disconnected.

Travis released a long sigh. “No. But Dr. Rufin may have surfaced in Bangkok. One of his e-mail accounts was accessed.”

Rocco could guess what was bugging Travis. “How many people besides us know?”

“Supposedly none. But we both know how fast that can change.” Travis hammered his knee with his fist. “Damn it. I want Rufin! My gut says he’s the missing link. Whoever gets to him first will have Max, Taz, and maybe Harry’s future in their hands. I just hope to God it’s us.”

“Can we throw out a false trail, then send someone in to grab him?”

“Perhaps. The question is who can I bank on?” Travis grew quiet but only for a moment. “How fast could you reach one of your contacts over there? It would need to be someone you’d trust with your life.”

Rocco weighed the request before nodding. “I think I know just the guy.”