In His Sights (17 page)

No. Not going to happen.

There was nobody to call. So he somehow put one
foot in front of the other and, a half hour or so later, made it home. After letting himself in, he trudged to the bedroom, undressed, and sprawled facedown on the bed.

He was so exhausted tonight, an entire marching band could troop though his house, let alone a serial killer, and he'd never know it.

With that disturbing thought, he promptly passed out.

“How's it going, Chris?”

“Man, that was a raw deal, what happened.”

“Back already? Shit, I'd take the whole week off.”

The greetings and back slaps hadn't stopped all day, and Chris was ready for the news to become a thing of the past. He was attempting to hide behind some files on his desk when his cell phone buzzed. Checking the display, he picked up quickly. This was one call he absolutely wanted to take.

“Detective Ford.”

“Detective, this is Laura Eden,” she said in her pleasant, smoky voice. “I'm so sorry it's taken me a few days to get back to you regarding that list of suspicious deaths that have come in to the hospital.”

“I understand. I heard you were sick.”

“I was stricken with the flu bug, and it wiped the floor with me. I'm back now and much better, and I've finally compiled the list. It's as comprehensive as I can make it, since not all bodies come through the medical examiner's office.”

“Whatever you've got, I'll be glad to take it.”

“I had some help putting it together, and it includes all the deaths we could find that were not held for autopsy—which is most of them. There's some interesting stuff on there, and I'd like to come by. Will you and the captain be around?”

“We'll be here.”

Once they'd hung up, he called Rainey. The captain growled, “Yeah?”

“Someone woke up grumpy.”

“What do you fuckin' want, Chris? I'm up to my ass in alligators.”

“Eden is on her way with the list of suspicious deaths from the hospital. Says she has some things we'll want to see.”

“Good. Call me when she gets here.”

“Will do.”

Immersing himself in a different case, he heard her arrival before he saw it. Eden was a stunning woman whose beauty didn't hint at the brains underneath. She was brilliant and, in a professional world dominated by men, frequently underestimated. She made no apologies and took shit off nobody.

Her arrival caused the usual whistles and immature remarks as she passed through the main room, but she ignored them all. When she spotted Chris, he smiled and waved her in, then shut the door behind them.

“Dr. Eden, how are you?”

“Good, thanks. And you? I heard about your poisoning,” she said, expression serious.

“Well, I came too freaking close to having my name added to your list. But I'm good.”

“I'm glad to hear it, and to see you back at work.”

“I appreciate that.”

There was a knock on the door, and it opened. Rainey and Tonio stepped inside and shut it again. Chris wasn't sure but he thought he saw the captain give Eden a longing look before schooling his face into a polite mask. Rumor had it that Rainey's wife was a bitch on heels, and he had a thing for the ME. Poor bastard.

“Here are your copies of the list, gentlemen. Detective Ford, you'll note that your name is at the bottom, listed as a survivor. Your poisoning was cyanide, correct?”

“Yes.” He knew her lab hadn't done the tox screen, but she must have a reason to ask. He was right.

“The three most recent victims I've been able to test have had conclusive results. They died of heart failure as a result of cyanide poisoning as well.”

“Goddamn,” Rainey moaned. “We have a serial killer.”

“That's your call, but it would appear so, Captain.”

Shit. Shit
. “This is bad,” Chris said. “I think he came back night before last to creep around or finish me off maybe. He was hanging around my house wearing a hoodie. I chased him, but he got away.”

“That would've been nice to know before now,” Tonio snapped.

Chris frowned at him. “There's nothing you could've done about it. He got away and I can't identify him. But
my alarm system got installed yesterday, so I'm ready if he comes back.”

“My part is done, guys.” Eden stood. “I'm still trying to get permission to test the other victims, but it takes time to coordinate exhumations. Of course some families simply won't agree, no matter what we tell them.”

“Thanks for coming by, Dr. Eden,” Chris said.

As she was leaving, Jenk stuck his head in the door and held up a manila envelope. “Got the test results back on that vial found behind Edward Burke's house. Haven't opened it yet.”

“I'll do the honors,” Chris said, standing to take the envelope from him. Ripping open the top, he extracted the report and whistled. “Well, this just gets more interesting. I'll give you three guesses.”

Tonio stared at him for a few seconds. “Poison?”

“Yep.” Chris slapped the envelope and paper on the table. “Cyanide.”

Rainey blew out a breath. “The same deadly poison at the scene of one of the burglaries. What the hell is going on?”

“Let's take a look at what Laura brought and see if anything starts to make sense,” Chris suggested.

The three of them studied their lists. One name near the top caught his eye. “Sarah Fell. Why does that name sound familiar?”

“I don't know,” Tonio said, frowning. “It does, though.”

“Fell. The only person I can think of is George Fell, who we talked to— Wait. Didn't he say his wife, who passed away, was named Sarah?” Chris struggled to recall.

“Here's her address.” Tonio pointed. “Let's check it against the burglary files.”

Chris pulled the file from his desk and retrieved their list of burglary victims—and hit pay dirt. “Here's the address, listed under George Fell. His wife died after the burglary,” he said, excitement growing. “Do we have more of these?”

“Pauline Nicholson. We talked to her after we spoke with Fell. There's a Leo Nicholson on Eden's list of deceased. Heart attack, like all the others.”

They all fell silent for a moment as the implication sank in.

“Jesus,” Chris said at last. “The bastard is breaking in and slipping the poison into their homes, just like he did to mine.
That's
why nothing was ever stolen from their residences. He wasn't some voyeur—he was targeting them for death all along.”

“God. But why?” Tonio sighed. “What's he getting out of it?”

Rainey interjected. “What do any of them get out of it? Smug satisfaction. A sexual thrill. Some are convinced they're doing good by eradicating people who need killing.”

Chris sat back. “We have to finish cross-referencing these lists and determine which deaths are connected to the burglaries.”

“That could take a while,” Tonio said.

“So we'd better get started.”

*   *   *

In the small bedroom, he paced. Filled with rage at the asshole who'd fucked up his beautiful plans.

“Who survives that?” he screamed. “Why didn't he
die
? It was supposed to be perfect!”

His mother, of course, didn't answer. Just sat looking at him, her silence damning, her eyes accusing.

“Shut up. You don't care anyway.” A sob escaped his chest. “You never did, you bitch.”

Neither did the others, but they'd pay. It was only fair and just, after what he'd been through. It was only right.

He'd see the last one of them burn in hell . . . And then he'd gladly follow.

*   *   *

A trying day at the hospital might have been made a whole lot better with a visit from Chris. She hadn't heard from him in the three days he'd been back at work, and she was afraid she'd royally screwed things up between them.

“Smile, Doc. Things aren't as bad as that frown on your face.”

Robyn jerked out of her musings and turned her head to see Shea standing there wearing a sympathetic expression. “I think I messed up, and I don't know how to fix it.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Chris hasn't called me or come by the house in three days,” she lamented. “I told him I needed time to tell him the story of Greg, and he said it was okay. But I could tell I hurt him. What if he's given up?”

Shea set a chart on the nurse's desk and regarded her thoughtfully. “Sweetie, the man is one hundred percent over the moon about you. And Maddy. I've witnessed him around you, remember? Chris is not going to give
up the best thing that's happened to him in a long time, especially not over one simple disagreement. If you can even call it that.”

“You think so?”

“Everybody has baggage. Even me. For a long time, I didn't want to tell Tommy about my past, but it wasn't because I didn't trust him. It was just so
painful
I didn't want to relive it. Tommy understood, and Chris does, too. I'm sure of it.”

“But . . . I haven't heard from him at all. Not a word.”

“Shane said some case Chris and Tonio are working on is heating up. As in, major break. I'm going to venture a guess that's why he's been quiet.”

“You're probably right again.”

“In fact, I'm pretty sure I
know
he wants to see you.”

“How?”

“Because the man himself just came through the doors and is headed straight for you.” Shea smirked and glanced behind her.

She turned and, sure enough, Chris was bearing down on them, his eyes only for Robyn. His walk was graceful, shoulders back, golden brown hair slightly mussed. He was wearing sunglasses, which he removed without breaking stride, tucking them into his front shirt pocket. His gun sat on his lean hips as if he was born with it there.

Robyn had to concentrate not to lick her lips. Nurses parted before him like the Red Sea, and most took a good look at his ass when he walked by. He didn't so much as glance at any of them. She smiled. Broadly.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, loud enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear. That was fine by her.

Reaching Robyn, he wrapped her into his arms and held her for a moment. She wished they could stay like this or, better yet, were at home, where she could get him out of those clothes and have her way with him. He stepped back and returned her smile.

“I've missed you.”

“Me, too,” she admitted quietly, mindful of their audience.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“The garden?”

“That's perfect.”

She ignored the grin on Shea's face as they walked off. Outside, the day was gearing up to be a hot one. But at the moment it was merely warm and pleasant. Fall was coming, and not soon enough for Robyn.

Taking his hand, she led them over to a bench. She liked it that he didn't let go of her hand after they sat down. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I have something to give you.” He retrieved a white envelope from his front shirt pocket, behind his sunglasses. “This is important information from the case we're working on.”

“That's all you wanted to talk to me about?” She couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice.

“No! Of course not, baby,” he said softly. “I've missed you so damned much, I'm not sleeping well. I've meant to call, but Tonio and I caught a break on our case and we've been burning the midnight oil ever since.”

She studied him more closely and noted the signs she'd missed at first: dark smudges under his eyes, lines
bracketing his mouth. He appeared a bit pale, too. He really hadn't been sleeping.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” she admonished.

“I need my personal doc to make sure I do.”

“I think I can handle that.”

“Did you honestly think I didn't want to see you again? Whatever I said or did to make you believe that, I'm sorry.

“It's not your fault. I should have just called to see what was up instead of assuming you didn't want to see me. That was stupid and I won't make the same mistake again.”

“Hey, it's okay. The phone works both ways. How about we agree not to go so long without communicating in the future?”

“That works for me.” She gestured to the envelope. “So, what's the break?”

“In short? We have a serial killer.”

“Holy shit,” she blurted, eyes widening. “How did you find this out? Catch me up.”

“To make it simple, the rash of burglaries the city has had, most of them were step one in the killer's plan to set up his victims. He wasn't stealing anything, which was what had us confounded, because we didn't know we had a killer on our hands. What he was actually doing was planting cyanide in their homes . . . just like he did mine. A vial of the poison was found outside one of the houses. The killer probably dropped it in his haste to get away.”

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, letting that sink in. “You were supposed to be the latest victim.”

“Exactly. But I survived. Which is why I suppose he was creeping around my house the night you cooked steaks. I chased him, but he got away.”

“My God. I can't believe this. So— Wait.” She paused, brain scrambling to catch up. “Poison. These cases the medical examiner has been looking into, they're poisonings that look like heart attacks? And they're related to the burglaries?”

“Exactly—they're one and the same case. Break and enter becomes murder.”

She shook her head. “Wow. I can't imagine what a sick mind it takes to come up with something so evil. He made those people suffer horribly before they died.”

“I know.” He made a face. “I was on the receiving end, and I've never been in so much physical pain, ever.”

She didn't want to think about the day she almost lost him. Instead, she asked, “So what have you brought me?”

He handed over the envelope. “That's a list of each burglarized household in which at least one family member subsequently died. We've been working on it nonstop, and it's as complete as we can make it right now. Here's the thing. All the poisoning deaths we've confirmed so far, except one, occurred
here
and not at any other hospital in the county.”