Monahan 02 Artificial Intentions (31 page)

Not a nice way to go, I thought, but maybe preferable to life in a prison and a sexual predator label.

“That’s how he ended up in the wheelchair,” Jay continued. “Spent several weeks in the hospital, and when he was released, he went straight from there to the Arizona State Prison at Winslow.”

“So what’s he doing out of prison?” I asked.

“He did his time,” Kelly said. “Sentenced to ten years, served four, got out early because he was a model prisoner. Was a teacher at the prison, helped his fellow inmates get their high school diplomas.” I detected a slight sneer in Kelly’s voice, but his face didn’t betray any such emotion. Maybe I was just misreading his drawl.

“One wonders how the
hell
he ended up at Phoenix Technologies,” I ventured, mostly to myself. Nausea was pushing at the back of my throat and sharp, shooting pains were throbbing in my temples. Usually, these were some of the first signs of a migraine. When I got a migraine, I usually ended up flat on my back, in a dark room, for many hours and I groaned inwardly, knowing that I couldn’t afford to be out of the loop for that long.

“Kate, you need a break,” Jay was saying. “Where are your painkillers?” The man was a mind reader.

The nausea hit me like a wave and I had to get away from the overhead lights in the dining room and the talking, and the freaking crap that was my life at this moment.

My friend sleep arrived about fifteen minutes after I took my prescription medication and lay like a mummy on my bed, with no covers touching me and my arms crossed over my chest. Tommy came to me in my sleep and he held me and told me how sorry he was and he swore he never meant to put me into such a mess and he told me over and over and over again how much he loved me. I tried to ask him who murdered him but Tommy was holding me so tight I couldn’t speak and I struggled with him. Let me go, let me go, I begged him, let me go because I needed to ask him the question. Let me go.

When I woke up I slowly rolled my eyes behind my closed lids, testing for the tell-tale pain. There was a lingering smidge so I gingerly opened my eyes and turned my head sideways and saw Jay sitting up against the headboard on his side of the bed. He was reading a book and holding a small penlight over the pages. The bedroom was dark except for this little bit of light. I rolled over and made my way across the bed until I was lying beside Jay. He quietly put his hand on my head and I fell back to sleep.

chapter forty-three

The next morning I woke up craving coffee and feeling somewhat refreshed. I set the shower head to massage and enjoyed the water pounding on the back of my neck. I felt a little foolish about the way our evening had ended so abruptly the night before, but I’m sure Kelly understood. I loathed appearing weak in front of others, but trying to function normally while in the grips of a migraine just isn’t an option for me.

After my shower I made my way to the kitchen and was happy to see Jay sitting on one of the barstools at the breakfast counter. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his back.

“Good morning,” I mumbled into his T-shirt. He turned around and wrapped me in a big hug, lifting me off the floor. “Good morning yourself,” he said.

“Put me down,” I laughed. My feet were swinging in the air.

“Gimme a kiss first,” he teased. Which I did. Which lasted way longer than a good morning kiss normally did. Which led to all sorts of delicious fun back in our bedroom. Which is why I had two showers that morning.

I finally got my coffee an hour later, which I was enjoying while I watched Jay cook us some breakfast.

“After I so gracefully ended our discussion last night, what did you and Kelly do?” I asked Jay.

“Nothing.” The smell of bacon filled the kitchen. “Kelly left as soon as you went to bed. He said for you to call him today if you were feeling better. And he gave me his cell phone number. I told him I was going to continue digging for information.” Jay reached under the counter while he was telling me this and pulled out some sort of appliance contraption that I had never seen before. He set it on the counter and plugged it in.

“I have to tell you,” he continued, “helping out last night was great fun.” Jay grabbed several large oranges from the wire basket on the counter and skillfully sliced each in half. “Digging into the police databases, accessing the Arizona State Prison records, and the Arizona Medical Board records was a little weird.” Jay grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and placed one under a little spout on the appliance, which he magically flipped down. He then lifted a clear cone shaped gizmo on the appliance and placed half an orange on top of a small protrusion, put the cone back in place, and pressed a button. “It almost felt like I was hacking into computers,” he was saying. “I can’t believe how so much information is available on the internet.” Fresh orange juice was pouring out of the little spout into the glass.

He turned around to the stove, flipped some bacon, grabbed another frying pan from the rack hanging over the counter, placed it on the stove, turned on the burner under it, and placed a dab of butter in the middle of the pan. He was then back at the juicer, quickly feeding it the orange halves. The two glasses of juice were placed side by side on the counter in front of me and in one graceful motion he was back at the stove cracking eggs (one handed) into the frying pan. I sighed a little and wondered if life got any better than this? Jay was my own private dancer, doing his choreographed footwork in the kitchen, cooking for me.

I forced my mind back to reality and gave Jay a very big smile when he placed my plate full of eggs, bacon and toast in front of me. Jay sat beside me on the matching barstool.

“Thank you for breakfast, and thank you for helping out last night.” I leaned over a bit and wrapped my arm around Jay’s waist and rested my head on his arm.

“You are welcome,” he replied. “Now eat your breakfast.”

The stalker’s breathing was controlled. Deep breaths originating in the diaphragm allowed more control and the stalker concentrated on the air expanding the abdomen, not the chest. The stalker felt omniscient with all the extra oxygen the diaphragmatic breathing provided. There were no obstacles to success. Nothing could stand in the way now. Expand the abdomen, not the chest. Extra oxygen meant that sight was improved, hearing was sharper, food tasted so much better. The stalker was constantly sexually aroused. Oxygen meant power. Power meant control. The stalker peered at the medical monitor and nodded silently. Blood oxygen reading was good. Blood pressure slightly low. Heart rate normal. The stalker gloated, just a little, and smiled. Omniscient
and
omnipotent.

Jay was between my legs with his hands around my throat, and I didn’t like it a bit. In fact, I hated it, which Frank said was a good thing. I lay there on the floor of Frank’s dojo, with a tingling scalp and stinging wrists, and I was supposed to writhe out of Jay’s death grip. I was feeling really pooped out but Frank was having none of that.

“Cross your arms over his and grab his wrists,” he commanded me. When my hands had a good grasp on Jay’s wrists, Frank told me to start moving, and to bring my knees, legs and feet up, under Jay’s body. “Kick at him, throw him off balance,” Frank said. When I had done that, Frank told me to roll to the side, using my shoulder, hip and foot to throw Jay off me. I rolled to the left, grunted, and pushed with my right foot. Miraculously, I ended up between Jays legs, on top of him.

Frank was urging me to strike his groin and get up and run. Embarrassed at how spent I was, I stayed on my hands and knees for a few moments and watched great globs of my sweat drop on the floor. I gulped at the air. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I gasped. How pathetic, I thought. An hour working out and my joints were like Jell-O. I finally stood up and turned around to face Frank and Jay who were patiently waiting for me to come back to life.

After breakfast I had told Jay that I was going to play hooky from the office. Jay just laughed.

“What?”

“You’re the boss so it’s not called hooky.” Jay paused and a big smile played around his mouth. “What are we going to do today?”

“You’re playing hooky too?” He nodded. I put my arms around his waist and looked up at him. Gawd, he makes my heart go pitter-patter, I thought.

“Let’s do something together that’ll take my mind off everything at Phoenix for at least an hour or so.” I gave him a bit of a suggestive leer which didn’t work because we had ended up at Frank Sanchez’s place for another self-defence class.

“Okay,” Frank said. “Good.” He walked over and clapped me on the back. “Good work today Kate. Let’s review what we went over. You worked on what to do if someone comes up behind you and grabs you by your hair.” I nodded and rubbed my scalp. Christ that hurt, getting your hair pulled. Hurt is good, said Frank. It focuses your attention. Reach up, put your hands over theirs, bend down, step back and get out of the grab. “You and Jay worked on how to disarm someone if they come at you with a gun.” I rubbed my wrist, and thought about whether or not I’d be able to remember any of what I had learned today.

Frank said to act submissive when confronted by someone with a gun. I don’t think I’d have any trouble with that part, short of peeing my pants, I’d have my hands up in the air, begging for my mommy. Put your hands up, hang your head, make them think they’ve got the upper hand. And never lose your focus, Frank demanded. When they come at you with that gun, he showed us how to put them to their knees and take the weapon from them. Admittedly, it felt good.

“And lastly,” Frank was saying, “you learned what to do if someone has you on the ground. I know it’s a lot of information in one session, but you need to practice. When can you come back?”

I looked at Jay and he shrugged his shoulders. This was my call. “Tomorrow?” I asked Frank. We agreed on a time and while I gathered up my stuff, Jay called Lou to tell him we were finished and coming downstairs to the car.

Apparently, Jay and Kelly had a little chat last night after I fell asleep. Kelly had a “come to Jesus talk” with Jay and today Lou the driver was Jay’s new best friend. Kelly was concerned about my safety and now Jay had taken on the job of being my personal bodyguard. Which was kind of funny, considering that he had absolutely no training, which Jay didn’t find funny when I pointed that out to him. I decided to go along with whatever Kelly and Jay wanted me to do, for now at least. One thing that Jay made clear to me right away was that we wouldn’t be going anywhere unless it was in Lou’s car. Security of my person was top of mind for Jay, Lou and Kelly. I felt so special.

At the doorway to the street, Jay stood in front of me and looked for Lou’s car. When he saw it pulling up, he took me by the arm and scooted me into the back of the car. Quickly. Somehow I didn’t feel like a movie star.

chapter forty-four

Lou handed me two message slips when I slid into the back of the car. Call Carrie and call Kelly. When I called the office Carrie told me that Cleve Johnston needed to talk me, so I asked her to transfer me to his line.

“Kate, there are a few things we should talk about before I head back to Toronto. I’m hoping to catch the five thirty out of LaGuardia. When can we meet?”

The small digital clock mounted on the back of the front seat of the car told me it was 10:30. Cleve and I agreed to meet for lunch at a small Italian restaurant on East 57th, practically around the corner from my apartment. I had time to take a shower and walk to the restaurant, although Jay and Lou both told me that I would be driven over.

I called Kelly as soon as I got back in the apartment.

“Northland,” he said as soon as he answered the phone.

“Sit rep,” I barked at him and fancied him tightening his butt cheeks and standing at attention.

There was a bit of a pause and I think he actually figured out that I was joshing with him.

“Ma’am,” he drawled. “How are you feeling today?”

“Much better Staff Sergeant, thanks for asking. What’s up?

“Better we talk in person,” he said guardedly.

“I’m at my apartment, and have to leave in about fifty minutes for a lunch meeting,” I told him.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

He was actually there in eighteen. I had taken my shower and was just finished dressing when I heard the intercom announcing his arrival. Jay and he were comfortably ensconced at the dining room table, chatting like two long lost friends when I came out of the bedroom.

“So, Kelly, what’s up?” I pulled out a chair across the table from him and sat down. He flipped open his little notebook which was sitting on the table in front of him.

“Natalie Scott.”

“Okay. You’ve got my attention. Fire away.”

“Well, most of what is on her background check has been verified. What struck my investigator as a little odd were some slight time differences from what she put on the application. It didn’t add up, so we went off on our own and did a deep dive check on her.”

I was getting that oh-oh feeling in the pit of my gut and I didn’t like it.

Kelly continued. “Seems that our Miss Scott spent some time in Arizona.” He paused but I don’t think it was for effect. And then he swallowed before continuing. “Flagstaff specifically.”

Flagstaff was the city that had hosted our own sexual predator, Mr. Donald McLean.

“Oh really?” I said.

“Really,” he replied. “Although it’s not mentioned on the employment background check, apparently Miss Scott did a placement at the Flagstaff Memorial Hospital as part of her Ph.D studies in biochemistry. She spent four months working in one of their research labs. Ben Tucker, or Donald McLean, was doing his surgical residency there at the same time.”

I had my hands clasped together, in front of me, resting on the table. With this news, my hands clenched and my knuckles turned white.

“What else do we know about her time in Flagstaff?” I asked.

“Nothing yet. My guy was on a flight this morning to Phoenix, connecting to Flagstaff. He’ll be there early afternoon.”