Heart of the Witch (32 page)

"I'm sorry," Ravyn said quietly. The story was clearly not what she'd been expecting.

"He was a good man. I miss him every day. I know it's been a while, but…" She gave a small, bleak smile. "He was the love of my life."

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Connell." Nick stood. They'd intruded on this woman's grief long enough, and all for nothing. "We'll get out of your way now. Good-bye."

Ravyn stood also, but when the woman walked them to the door, Ravyn turned. "Was your husband an organ donor?" she asked.

Mrs. O'Connell's startled gaze flew from Ravyn to Nick, then back again. "Why, yes. Yes he was. Why?"

Nick's pulse raced. He understood.

"Do you know the name of any of the recipients?" Ravyn asked. "Specifically, the person who received his heart?"

Mrs. O'Connell's face hardened, and her suspicious look returned. She shook her head. "That information is confidential. Please, I think you both should go."

Nick put a hand on Ravyn's lower back and guided her out the door. "Again, we're sorry, Mrs. O'Connell. Thank you for your time."

The woman nodded but said nothing more.

It was fully dark now, and in the driveway Ravyn stopped next to the Cadillac and turned to face Nick. The security light over the garage door illuminated one side of her face, while leaving the other in shadow. "That's it," she said softly. "The killer is the heart recipient. It makes sense. The medication… the name the Tin Man… my impressions. We have to find out his name. We have to get our hands on a donor list."

"That's nearly impossible," Nick muttered. At the same time, his mind was running through a list of people who owed him favors. The list was painfully short. And not one of them had access to any organ-donor registry.

Ravyn crossed her arms and shook her head. "We're so close. We can't give up now." She leaned back against Mrs. O'Donnell's car, and he could see how tense she was. Then, suddenly, she moved away from the Cadillac, staggering forward and clutching her head.

"Ravyn?" He reached out and took her shoulders, but she jerked away. Her hands moved from her head down to her neck, and she made gagging noises as if choking to death. "Ravyn!" He tried once more to touch her, but she fell to her knees, her eyes staring wildly in front of her.

"I see him!" The words burst forth from her constricted throat. "I see his name. I know… I know where he lives."

Her eyes turned up to him and he saw horror in their emerald depths. Her hands dropped from her neck, and in a voice radiating pure terror, she said, "He has her and we're too late. She's going to die."

Nick grabbed Ravyn by the shoulders, this time not letting her jerk free as he pulled her to her feet. He shook her and stared directly into her face. "Has who? Who is
she
?"

"I don't know, but she's in danger. Terrible danger."

Nick released Ravyn abruptly and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialing the OCPD as he spoke. "Give me his name, the address. We'll head back that way, but it will take over three hours to get there. The cops can check it out in the meantime."

Ravyn nodded and gave him the information she had somehow gleaned.

Nick dialed as they climbed into the car and squealed off toward the highway.

"Harris," the voice on the other end of the phone stated.

Great
. "Harris, it's Nick Lassiter."

"What do you want?"

"We have a lead. I need you—"

"We have a lead? Who the fuck you think you are? You're not a cop anymore, buddy boy."

"Goddammit, Harris, just listen to me. Someone's gonna die if you don't. I need you to check out a Jay Haleck." He gave Harris the address. "Get over there now." And then, because he thought it might feed Harris's lust for power and prompt him to hurry, he added, "Please."

"I got it," Harris said.

Nick pushed the car as fast as he dared, all the while casting worried glances at Ravyn. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out into the blackness, her arms crossed tightly against her chest.

Half an hour later, when his cell phone shrilled in the silence, she jumped.

"We checked it out," Harris said. "Nothing. No one home. No sign of anything suspicious. We ran a check, and the guy's a doctor. Well respected. I don't know where you got your information, but he's not our guy."

Nick hung up and relayed the information to Ravyn.

She shook her head vehemently. "They're wrong. It's him. I
know
it's him, and the girl is going to die." She slammed a fist against the dash and fell back against her seat. "Hurry. If they won't do anything, we'll have to. Hurry, Nick, please."

Not knowing whether to believe her, he nevertheless increased his speed. Ravyn might be totally off base, but he'd damn sure rather be wrong and waste a little time than ignore her and waste a life.

The house Ravyn directed him to was worth twice the one they'd just left. Set back from the road and steeped in darkness, elegance and wealth emanated from the structure. Tall white columns flanked the entrance, and large bay windows stretched out over the artfully landscaped lawn.

Rather than park his car in the winding drive and announce their presence, Nick stopped at the curb. He knew Ravyn would argue with him, but he said the words anyway. "Stay here."

She pulled on the handle and was out of the car before he was. "You must be out of your mind."

As she started across the lawn, he ran to catch up with her. "What do you think you're doing?" He grabbed her arm and whirled her to face him.

She jerked away, her expression tormented as she spoke in a hoarse whisper. "I couldn't save my sister. Maybe I can save someone else's."

She started off again, and he once more stopped her. "You can't just march up to the door and confront this guy. It's not like we're cops with a warrant. We don't have anything but a hunch. Slow down and stay behind me. I'll handle this, and maybe we can all go home happy."

"You don't believe me," she grumbled.

"What?"

"You're humoring me, but you don't really believe this is the killer, do you?"

Nick shook his head and expelled a breath. "I don't know what to believe. Still, the things I've learned lately, the things I've seen… Let's just say for now I'm willing to play along. But we still have to do things right. Come on." He pulled his Beretta, took her by the hand and kept her behind him as they approached the door.

The house was dark and quiet. Too quiet. The silence cast an ominous pall over everything.

Nick knocked on the door, keeping Ravyn behind him and his gun drawn. When there was no answer, he motioned for her to follow him around the side of the house, looking for another way in.

Ravyn stopped next to a basement window on the east side of the house. Nick turned back to hurry her. "Come on," he whispered. "We'll try the back door."

She shook her head and dropped to her knees. When she turned her face up to him, the moon cast slivers of light over her cheeks. "He's in there. We have to go in now."

Nick shivered, his hand holding the gun going numb. Ravyn had sensed it even before the screaming started: someone was being tortured inside.

The knees of Ravyn's pants were soaked, but she barely noticed as she tugged on the basement window. She could open it another way but was afraid of what that might precipitate. Would it so completely stun Nick that he would be less effective in saving the girl—or perhaps even careless enough to lose his own life?

She deliberated, but he reached down and lifted her to her feet. Aiming his gun at the latch, he fired, then threw open the window and hurled himself inside. Ravyn followed.

The basement was actually a converted sitting room. A television and stereo rested against one wall. On the opposite side was a forest green sofa, above which hung a life-size painting of a stern-looking, fiftyish woman in a shiny mauve pantsuit. The rest of the room was in shadow, all except the center, where a bright light shone down on a table. An operating table. A young girl covered to her neck by a blue sheet lay upon it. Her eyes were closed.

The man standing next to her looked up. His face was partially covered by a surgical mask, but Ravyn knew it was him. Her enemy. He held aloft a scalpel.