Spencer-3 (4 page)

“Forty-five dead people, Damon. Not just her, but others. Patients, staff—

hell, you could have been a part of his spree. What if Mom...I don’t even want to think about that.”

“You should realize that there are the fifteen in the clip that was in the gun.

Plus, there would be an extra one in the muzzle. That makes it sixty plus. And he would have killed them too. He would have used them all as a way to distract the police so he could escape. And his type will escape, even if he had to hide behind someone while he did it,” she said.

Spencer could tell his brother was torn. If he left her the gun, then he was going against everything he had been taught, his oath to keep people healthy. If he took the gun from her and someone came back for her and killed even one person, including her, he would never be able to forgive himself.

“I don’t want one single person in this hospital to know about this. If they find out, I’m going to say I knew nothing about any of this. Deal?”

“Thank you, doc, you’re all right.” The gun was tucked back under the pillow and Cait was helped back in over it. After a few more minutes of conversation, everyone left but Spencer.

Spencer wanted to talk to Cait about what had happened. He also wanted to bring her into his arms and hold her there, but for some reason, he thought that she would hurt him if he tired. She didn’t strike him as the cuddly type. Before he could decide if it would be worth the pain, she started talking.

“You left this here the last time you were here.” She threw the gray file at him that his brother had given him when she had first come in. Well, shit.

“I can explain. My brother gave it to me. He said that he thought I should know what kind of person was hanging out with my daughter.” He cringed when he thought about the way that had come out.

“Hanging with your daughter? Does he have precognitive powers? Because the only time I was hanging with your daughter was when I scooped her up out from in front of a truck, then here in the hospital. Well, I can see where that would terrify you and him. Tell me, does he know if I make it back home to Chicago? Or if I live through the trial? Information like that would be really helpful. Especially in my line of work.”

“It’s not like that. He was just being thorough. He is...we all are very protective of Meggie. We don’t want anyone to hurt her.” She was so quiet that he was nervous. He wasn’t worried about the gun she carried; he was worried she would not see him again. Which, when he thought about it, was just plain stupid.

“I would never hurt a child, but I thank you for thinking I would. I’m going home to Chicago as soon as I’m released from here. I would very much like it if you stayed the hell away from me from now on. I’ll also release your brother from him being my doctor as well. That way I don’t contaminate anyone else in your family. Now, get out.”

“Caitlynne, please don’t do this. I’m so sorry. This isn’t how…”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

He left. But he was not finished. Not yet. His first stop was to his brother Devin’s office.

“You are going to the hospital and fix this, or I fix you. She won’t talk to me because you gave me that fucking file,” he said as soon as he opened the office door.

“What are you talking about?” Spencer watched his brother stuffing files in his briefcase. He looked...Spencer thought he looked worried.

“O’Malley. She won’t speak to me because you...what the hell is wrong with you? You look, I don’t know, upset. Did she call you and cuss you out? Wouldn’t surprise me if she did; she’s spunky like that.”

“Spunky? Where do you hang out? Never mind, I have a case. I don’t know, something about it doesn’t...I’ll talk to her. I have to go talk to her about her report to the police about Ms. Ames. The detective told the police that she thought Meggie’s teacher was drinking prior to the incident. There was something about an open container in the store.”

“Drinking? It was nine o’clock in the morning. Is she sure? Wait, of course she is, and you know it, don’t you? What’s going on, Devin? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Let me talk to your girlfriend first, all right? Then I’ll get back to you. I should be done in time for dinner. Why don’t you meet me at the hospital in a couple of hours, all right? Then you and I will have some dinner.” Spencer was not happy about it, but he didn’t want to add anymore pressure on his brother right now. He decided that he would talk to his other brother, Nicky, and see if he knew anything.

~~~

Cait was dozing when her door opened. She had her weapon on her lap and when she realized she didn’t know the man standing there, she slipped her fingers along its butt and curved them around it. Her index finger moved along the muzzle to just outside the trigger guard.

“Detective O’Malley. My name is Devin Grant. I’m the brother of Damon and Spencer Grant. May I come in?” the man said. She could see the resemblance, but that didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry about your family, Mr. Grant. It’s too bad you can’t pick your family like you can friends. You have ID? And if so, then you take it out slowly and no one gets hurt. I have a gun pointed at your chest and I’m too pissed off at your brothers to care if you die or not.”

She wouldn’t really shoot him for being Spencer’s brother, but he didn’t have to know that. She didn’t bring up her weapon. At this point she could kill him without any problem if he was not who he said he was.

Cait watched as he sat his briefcase down and opened his jacket and reached into it slowly. He was moving slower than slow and if the circumstances were not so grave, she might have laughed at him.

“I’m an attorney. The police called to let me know that you had filed a report against Ms. Ames. I received a copy of it as I’m representing my brother and the other parents in this matter. I’d like to talk to you about it, if you don’t mind.” She took the wallet that he had opened for her and read his driver’s license.

When she was satisfied that he was telling her the truth, she handed it back to him.

“What do you want to know?” He handed her the file. She opened it and a photo slipped into her lap. She studied it for a few seconds and held it up. “What does a murdered vic have to do with a school teacher?”

“What? Shit. Sorry, I must have put it...suicide. Here, let me put that back in the correct one.”

“Murdered. The teacher was drinking in the store. The girl at the register, Holly, was giving her what-for because the teacher opened one in the store. She also spoke to me about needing to start drinking earlier every day for her nerves.”

“Did you see her...why do you think William was murdered?” He brought the picture back out of his case and was staring at it. He looked very much like Spencer when he frowned like that, and she smiled.

“I don’t think it; he was. Why do you think he wasn’t? Because unless you actually saw him do it, then I’m right; it’s murder. I’ve seen this more times than you. I know the difference.” She was not being arrogant; she was stating facts.

“He left a note. His wife and friends said he had been depressed lately.

When I talked to him a few weeks ago, he was disturbed about something too.”

“I’m sure that last night I would have left a note too if the guy who came in here had succeed in killing me. Staging is everything to these guys. A note does not a suicide make, Mr. Grant. He was murdered. There are all sorts of clues if one just knows what to look for.”

“My name is Devin. Mr. Grant was my father. Show me. I’m sorry. This case has not...William was a good friend and this hasn’t set well with me for several days. He contacted me several weeks ago and told me that he was having problems with money, but he didn’t say they were bad, just problems. He said that if anything were to happen to him, that I and only I was to sign off on his death. I just don’t...he was...I’m sorry. Could you tell me what you see?” Cait could tell that he was upset, so she decided to tell him. She didn’t need the picture; she had committed it to memory. Lying back on the bed, she decided to help him, but to help him figure it out as well.

“Give me your hand and help me up.” She didn’t reach until he held out his hand. When he had, she held on. “Now, what time is it?” She watched as the extended his left arm to pull his sleeve back to see his watch. “Stop!” He stared at her, waiting. She had to hand it to him; he followed direction very well. Laughing, she said, “Look at your hands and tell me what you see.

And don’t think too hard on it; just tell me.”

He looked at both of his hands, one still tight in hers, the other extended just beyond. She knew he would get it sooner or later, but decided to help him. “You handed me your hand. Why this one?”

“You reached for it...wait, no you didn’t. Let’s see. I handed you my right hand...I handed you my right hand because I’m right-handed and it’s my dominant hand.” He seemed pleased. She was as well.

“And your other hand, what are you seeing there?” She didn’t look at his watch; she knew that he would understand.

“My watch. I have my watch on my left so that...so that...I have no idea. It’s just the wrist I put it on when I wake up every morning.” He smiled at her it made him look like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Yes, you do, Mr. Grant. Why would you put your watch on your less dominant wrist?”

“Devin. So that when I need to tell some detective trying to make a point what time it is, I will have a free hand? I have no idea.”

“Yes and no. You use your right hand more, say for writing or holding a cup of coffee. Whatever. But if you needed to tell some stupid detective the time, you’d do what you just did.”

“Okay, what does this have to...shit! William was left-handed.” He picked up the picture that he had laid on her bed.

The picture showed a man with the left side of his head lying on a desk. He was facing the camera. There was blood pooled under his head and a hole in his right temple, the coroner had said. The gun, a Glock, was lying next to him; his hand was slightly wrapped around the butt of it. Two fingers of his right hand were still inside the trigger guard.

“He would have used his left and the wound would have been on the left as well. He wouldn’t have shot himself with his less dominant hand, would he?”

“No. Not normally. It could happen, I suppose, if he were ambidextrous. But that isn’t all, Mr. Grant. His head was placed on the desk. And his hand is not holding the gun correctly, in addition to it being in the wrong hand. All that adds up to murder, not suicide. I’m guessing that he had a typed note and that there wasn’t a signature either.”

“Call me Devin. What do you mean about his head?”

~CHAPTER 5~

Spencer walked in and watched as Cait was standing behind Devin. He was sitting in a chair and she was holding his head with one of her hands. Spencer sat down. It was either that or beat his brother to a bloody pulp for being this close to her.

“Okay, Mr. Grant, now put your right finger to your head as if you are going to shoot yourself. I’m not going to hurt you, but just demonstrate the impact, well, slightly demonstrate. The only way to get the true affect it for me to shoot you. But that would be messy and too much paperwork.” Devin put his finger to his head, made a pop noise, and Cait snapped his head to the left hard with her right hand. He noticed she favored her left. He winced when his brother looked to be in pain. Then smiled. Okay, this was not so bad if she could hurt Devin for him.

“Your head would never drop to the desk all pretty like in the picture. If anything, the impact from the Glock at a range of that close, he would have been lucky not to have been thrown to the floor. A Glock does not make a good suicide weapon. You need to use a revolver.”

“Christ. William was murdered. I have to...you have no idea what you’ve done for me.” Devin jumped up, reached behind the chair, pulled her toward him and kissed her full on the mouth.

Spencer jumped up just as Cait stepped back. He didn’t move; she looked not just shocked, but angry too.

“I’m sorry. I was...I didn’t think. Spence, I’m sorry. I have to go. I have a few calls to make. Thank you, Cait. I will talk to you tomorrow about the teacher.

You can’t leave town until I do. I’ll serve you if I have to.”

“I helped you and you are pulling this shit? Wow, you are a Grant, aren’t you? I won’t leave, but don’t count on anymore help from me.”

“Fine, so long as you are here to answer questions and to go to trial if need be. I appreciate your help. And as for Spencer, he had nothing to do with the file he had on you. That was totally me. Have a good night.” Spencer straightened up and walked to her as his brother left. She looked pissed and glared at him. He grinned. She was beautiful and he wanted to taste her again.

“You aren’t supposed to be here. I think I’ve made myself perfectly clear on that point...back up, Grant. I’m not kidding. You’re in my space again and I’ve warned you enough.”

He stalked her, pressing her back as he advanced. She hit the wall; he bracketed her with his hands on either side of her. He was inches away from her and he could still feel her heat.

“My brother got a kiss. Where is mine?” Spencer nuzzled her neck and nipped at the tight muscle there. Running his tongue along her throat, he pulled her ear lobe into his mouth and suckled it. She tasted better today then she had two days ago when he had kissed her.

“He took his...back off, Grant. I’m serious.” She put her hands up to his chest, but he didn’t feel her press him back. In fact, she curled her fingers into his chest. He leaned closer. Heat pooled between them, from both of them.

“O’Malley, kiss me, please? I want to taste you again. I want to slip my hand beneath this gown and make you moan with need. A need that is as powerful and aching as the one I have for you.”

He gently brushed his mouth over hers once and then again. He wanted to pull her closer, but worried about her wounds. But her mouth was not hurt and he planned to take as much as she would let him.

Moving his tongue along her lips, just at the opening of her mouth, he moaned at the heat he felt there. When she opened her mouth slightly and pulled his lower lip into her mouth, he moaned her name. “O’Malley, you’re killing me, love.”