Scorned (16 page)

              While Rodney gathered the rest of the team, I continued checking out the area. A mirror hung over the bed, no doubt so Ambrose could watch himself with his willing or unwilling sexual partners. Against another wall was a swing of sorts. It was large enough to fit one person in it. For the life of me, I couldn’t see how that would be fun. A large cabinet sat in the corner. It had two doors that swung open and several drawers beneath it. Curiosity got the better of me and opened them. The doors housed several types of whips. Some were thin, some were thick and some had several thick straps.

              “Seeing anything you like,” a voice said from the doorway. I slammed the doors shut and spun around like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The comedian was of course Detective Thornton who was right on time to make me flush with embarrassment. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

              “You’re an ass.”

              “So I’ve been told.” He took in the room. “You find anything other than our victim’s kinky side?”

              I shook my head. “Nothing that we could use to find his killer.” Thornton took a few steps into the room. Something seemed to have caught his attention. He was drawn to it like a moth to the flame. “You okay?”

              He moved closer to the wall and knocked on it, hearing nothing but a hollow sound. “This isn’t a regular wall.” His hands smoothed over the surface, trying to find a secret compartment or a handle or something to explain it. His finger activated a mechanism and the wall moved revealing another long mirror and a door. “I wonder what’s behind door number one.”

              “I say we open it and find out.” We entered the secret room and found video equipment pointed at the now apparent one sided mirror. We could see everything in the room. To the right of the recording equipment were monitors that showed what every camera saw and recorded, including the one above the bed. “That son of a bitch was filming his conquests without them ever knowing.”

              “But where are the tapes?”

              I dropped to my knees and crawled under the metal desk, retrieving a small cardboard box and a key locked safe. “Let’s see what we have in here.” I broke the lock while Thornton skimmed through the contents of the box.

              “There’s nothing in here but women’s underwear.” The same thought entered our heads at the same time. Every pair of underwear was a trophy Ambrose collected from his victims. “Jackpot,” Thornton called out. “I’ve got the tapes.”

              I popped open the safe and found several vials filled with clear liquid. “I think we have what we were looking for.”

              Rodney returned to the room as Detective Thornton and I appeared from the secret room. His attention switched between us, giving each of us an unnerving look. “What’s going on guys?”

              I held up the safe. “Tell the analysts to start with this and the room behind us. That should give them plenty to work with.”

              “That puts a whole new spin on this case and narrows down the suspects.” Thornton shook his head in disbelief. “Our suspect is most likely one of the women on those tapes.”

              “What tapes,” Rodney asked.

              Thornton showed him the rest of the room. There was no doubt in our mind. Whoever that woman was that interrupted Wendy and Ambrose was the one that killed him.

Chapter 19-Claire

              Claire waited until later in the night to go to the gym. She figured there wouldn’t be many people there, and that included her annoying personal trainer who seemed to be doing everything possible to get her in his bed. The danger she faced at the gym would have been too much for one woman to deal with, but with her limited free time, it was hard to find a gym that was open later than ten o’clock.

              From the street, the windows were fogged from the intense heat outside and the air conditioners working hard to cool off the building inside. She did her best to scout the area to make sure the coast was clear. Claire pushed open the doors and scanned her badge to check-in. Her eyes quickly scanned the gym, finding Tyson working out with another muscle bound meathead that wanted to look jacked to impress women. They were in the back of the gym with the free weights which allowed her to bolt for the locker room. She hoped to get changed and through part of her workout before Tyson noticed she was there. It felt like a mad dash for Claire to get dressed. It almost seemed like one fluent motion. Her pants and blouse had been cast aside only to be replaced by her workout pants and tank top. Knowing what happened during her last trip to the gym, Claire brought her own water bottle and a towel, making sure to grab them both before hitting the gym floor. She searched once more for her pursuer, but did not see Tyson.

             
Maybe he went home for the night
, she thought, but it was more like praying for it to be true. Claire walked briskly to one of the treadmills. Knowing what the run would do to her legs if not properly prepared, Claire began stretching before climbing onto the machine. She started out slow at first, but gradually increased in speed until she was at a brisk jog. Beads of sweat formed over her brows as a weird sensation drew Claire’s focus from her run. She tried to ignore it, but it was the same feeling she had the last few times she came to the gym. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but something definitely made Claire feel like someone was watching her. Her head craned from left to right, casting glances behind her, finding no one but a few people working out.

              Thoughts of the night she murdered Blake Ambrose filled her head.
Has someone been following me? Do they know what I did?
Her paranoia was running rampant and she was crumbling under the pressure. Her finger had increased the speed of the treadmill without realizing and was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with the pace. She stumbled and started to fall. Her hands slipped on the hand rails. She was seconds from falling face first into the moving track. The motor on the treadmill stopped forcing the track come to a halt just as Claire turned and landed on her back. She stared up at the lights, thankful she was all right.

              Tyson dangled the key to the treadmill over Claire’s face. “Forget to attach something,” he said with a smile. He reveled in the moment of saving Claire’s life. She stared into his eyes and instantly knew what was going on in Tyson’s head. She owed him big and he planned on collecting. He extended his hand and helped Claire to her feet.

              “Thanks,” she mumbled while trying to hide her embarrassment.

              “It’s no problem. You’re just lucky I was walking by when I did.”

              Was it luck, or did he see her walk in and was stalking her while she worked out? The creepy vibe Claire got while talking to Tyson made her think the latter was more likely.

              Claire clutched her back. Her hand instinctively reached under her shirt and could feel the bruises and abrasions she suffered. Tyson noticed her fumbling with her injuries.

              “Here, come with me and I’ll take a look at it.”

              “No, I’m fine.”

              “No you’re not. You just fell on a treadmill. You’re holding your back. I need to make sure you’re not hurt.” He leaned in close. Claire could smell the sweat soaking into his body. “Plus, I need to document the accident to protect the gym from any potential lawsuits.” He put his hands up in defense. “Not saying you would, but it’s just procedure.”

              “Fine,” Claire finally said as she gave into Tyson’s demand. She followed him to the back of the building and stood in the office. Tyson dug through the shelves for a first aid kit and found one minutes later.

              “Okay, let’s get that shirt off of you.”

              “Excuse me?”

              “Claire, I need to see where you’re hurt to assess…”

              “I’m the doctor here. I can assess plenty.” She turned her back to the mirror and lifted her shirt to the middle of her back. There were a few bruises and scrapes starting from her kidney area and climbing up the rest of her back.

              “That looks pretty nasty.” It really didn’t look that bad, at least to Claire it didn’t. “We should clean the wound with some water and peroxide.” She knew he was right about that one.

Tyson directed her to the sink in the office bathroom and dampened a paper towel. He gently wiped Claire’s back. The water left a light stinging sensation that Claire hated. His lips pursed together and blew warm air on the on Claire’s back where he dribbled the water onto. When it dried, he took a cotton ball and doused it in peroxide. The stinging sensation returned full force when he applied it to the wounds. Claire nearly yelped in pain, but bit down on her cheeks to avoid it. Tyson took the bandage dressing and handed it to Claire.

“I think you’re more of an expert at using one of these than I am.” Claire nodded and took the dressing from Tyson. “I’ll let you wrap yourself while I get us some waters.”

              Claire looked around nervously.
Was this it? Was he making another play? Was he going to drug another bottle of water?
Tyson had left Claire alone in the office. She could make a beeline for the locker room. If he questioned her, she could tell him that she was getting something out of her bag. Her fingers worked the bandage and wrapped it around her body tightly. Once it was secured, she opened the office door only to find Tyson standing there with two bottles of water in hand.

              “Whoa, where you off to in such a hurry?”

              “I-I wanted to get my phone.”

              Tyson reached into his pocket and pulled out the small device. He handed over to Claire and smiled. “You left it out by the treadmill. I figured you’d need it.” He entered the office and closed the door behind him. The two bottles were placed on the desk. One pushed towards Claire, the other was off to the side where Tyson’s chair was. His back was to her for just a second, but it was all she needed. Claire switched the water bottles as Tyson made his way to his seat and sat down.

              “Thank you,” Claire said sweetly. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me. I mean you saved my life and now you’re trying to take care of me.”

              “It’s no trouble. I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time.” A smile crept over his face as Tyson raised his water bottle. “To being at the right place at the right time.”

              Claire grabbed her drink and lightly tapped the neck of her bottle to the neck of Tyson’s. The water touched Claire’s lips and slid down the back of her throat. It tasted like normal water to her and not like it had been tampered with like last time.

              Claire remained tense and attributed it to Tyson moving his chair closer to her. He watched her take another nervous sip of water. He was filled with delight and continued to slurp his water down. His hand snaked out from his lap and touched Claire’s knee. She jumped back in her chair.

              “You okay,” Tyson asked.

              “Yeah, you just caught me off guard; that’s all.”

              “Sorry about that, I just thought you might want to check out the steam room. They just opened it to the guests today.”

              “What about the accident report?”

              “That can wait. Come on, I want to show it to you.”

              They grabbed their bottles of water and walked through the gym. The place was nearly empty. Only three or four other people were still there.

              “What if someone’s in there?”

              “Relax, there’s no one here. We almost have the whole place to ourselves.” That’s what Claire was afraid of. Tyson knew Claire owed him for saving her life and he was keeping her there to get what he ultimately wanted; her.

              They moved towards the front of the gym. Tyson drank most of his water and Claire was nearly halfway done with hers. “You should drink up. You need to rehydrate after your workout.” Claire sighed and downed her bottle as Tyson opened the door to the steam room. He gestured for her to enter and she complied. “We shouldn’t stay in here long, at least dressed like this we shouldn’t.” Tyson laughed, but it started to sound softer with each chuckle as he stumbled towards one of the benches.

              Claire knew what was happening to him. She had experienced it herself once before and was certain she would’ve again that night had she not switched the water bottles.

              “What’s wrong? You look a little…out of it.” Claire watched as Tyson worsened with each passing second. Something had snapped inside of her head and enjoyed watching him struggle to remain conscious. Part of her wanted to feel bad for him, after all he did just save her from having her body torn apart from the treadmill. But he was also the one who just tried to drug her and lured her into the steam room. “Tell me Tyson; why did you really bring me here?”

“He looked around in confusion. He was fading faster and was now on his hands and knees. “I-I wanted you.”

“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me in weeks.” Claire walked towards Tyson and bent down next to him. “Go make yourself comfortable on the bench over there.” She pointed to the one in the back of the steam room. “You sit there like a good boy and I’ll make sure to put on a great show for you.”

He let out a cheesy grin and crawled on his hands and knees back to the bench. The hot floor and steam was burning him, but the drug he ingested prevented him from feeling any of it. Tyson pulled himself onto the bench and waited for Claire to deliver on her promise. She sauntered over to Tyson and saw his eyes widen momentarily. Claire removed her sweat soaked t-shirt and swung it like a lasso over her head. She was in her sports bra and was now inches away from Tyson. Her knee raised high enough to straddle one of Tyson’s legs. But that wasn’t what she had in mind. Claire braced herself against the wall with her left hand that had been wrapped in her shirt. Her fingers ran through Tyson’s hair. He was at his most vulnerable state and Claire was relishing in that. Thoughts of Ambrose drugging that woman’s drink, thoughts of when she woke up in a strange bed alone and naked, thoughts of Tyson putting something in her drink hoping to accomplish the same feat; all of it fueled her aggression as she drove her knee into Tyson’s groin. He slumped over. His eyes were closed. Tyson Lee was completely unconscious.

Claire knew something had to be done about low life men like Tyson Lee and Blake Ambrose. Harming anyone was against the code of ethics she swore to uphold. It was against everything she stood for in her professional life. But all of that was stripped away and taken from her the night her innocence was stolen.

Claire walked back to the steam room entrance. Using the hand that was wrapped in her t-shirt, she opened the door and took one last look at Tyson. “I probably would’ve gone out with you if you had just asked.” She closed the door and placed the out of order sign on it.