The Dying Room (14 page)

301 First Street North, Birmingham, 11:30 a.m.

Sylvia couldn’t believe she’d fallen apart and spilled her guts to Jess. She sighed. Oh well. It was done. She wasn’t herself.

Her daughter was in Birmingham.

Addison
. According to Buddy’s report, her friends called her Addi.

Sylvia closed her eyes for a moment. She had a daughter who was twenty-two years old. An accomplished daughter. How would she tell her parents... her sister? Another sigh whispered from her lips. Her friends.

Then there was the issue of the father. Benton Murdock. Arrogant bastard. He was married and had grown children. He wouldn’t be interested in Sylvia or Addison. Still, her daughter would want to know.

Sylvia stood. She could not sit here waiting a moment longer. At least they weren’t stuck in the waiting room with all those coughing and sneezing patients.

Jess looked up at her. “Sometimes waiting is what we do.”

They’d been waiting to see this doctor for forty-five minutes. Sylvia understood that he’d been called to the hospital this morning, but they were trying to stop a killer here!

“Chief, the doctor is back and can see you now.”

Sylvia whirled around at the receptionist’s voice. “It’s about time,” she murmured for Jess’s ears only.

“Welcome to my world, Dr. Baron.” Jess smiled. “How does it feel to be on the other side for a change?”

“Enough said.”

Dr. Bryan Sowell stood as Sylvia and Jess entered his office. “I apologize for the wait, ladies.” He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“The patients come first,” Jess replied with a smile.

Jess’s patience never ceased to amaze Sylvia. She wanted to shake the man and demand answers, not exchange pleasantries.

“Then I’m sure the two of you will forgive me when I tell you that I don’t have a lot of time now. I have a lobby full of patients waiting.”

“We’ll get right to the point, then,” Jess suggested. “Wilson Hilliard was your patient until six months ago.”

Dr. Sowell nodded. “I haven’t seen him since that time. Has he passed away?”

“We’re not sure, doctor, but what I can tell you is that finding him may save lives. Three men are dead already and time is of the essence. These are exigent circumstances. Anything you know may help save the lives of others. That’s why we’re here. Can you tell me about his condition when you last examined him?”

He settled behind his desk. “I understand your situation though I doubt what I can tell you will be of much help.”

“Whatever insights you have may prove more helpful than you can imagine.”

“Mr. Hilliard was my patient for about two years. A stroke victim, he was bedridden, but his mental acuity remained quite high. I could never understand why he was committed in the first place. I filed a complaint with the institution. I believe Mr. Hilliard was abused during his extended stay there. Of course, I couldn’t prove it and the complaint was dismissed.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, six months ago he was diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer. I turned his care over to an oncologist but then I heard he had refused treatment and been released.”

“Without proper treatment he should be deceased by now,” Sylvia suggested.

“Most certainly,” Sowell said. “If he is still alive, he will be in very bad condition. He would need pain meds to control the unbearable pain.”

“No other physician requested his records?” Jess asked.

“No records on Hilliard were ever requested. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what happened to Mr. Hilliard after he left the institution.”

Jess stood. Sylvia followed suit.

“Thank you, Dr. Sowell. We appreciate you taking the time to answer our questions.”

Sowell nodded. “I hope you find him. I’d hate to think of him out there suffering.”

As soon as they were outside, Sylvia turned to Jess. “Where to now?”

“Now we—” her cell burst into that wonky old ring tone, cutting her off. “Hey, Sergeant.”

Sylvia tried to read between the lines of Jess’s side of the conversation as they crossed to her car. Once seated inside, she stopping trying to figure out all the un-huh’s and yes’s and sent her father a text. He replied immediately that he was doing perfectly fine. Sylvia wanted to scream. It was clear where she’d gotten her stubborn streak.

“Thanks, Sergeant. We’re heading that way.” Jess ended the call and turned to Sylvia. “Wilson Hilliard owns two small houses under an old company name, Hill Enterprises. One is vacant and scheduled for teardown, the other currently has utilities connected and is our destination.”

“Enter the address into my GPS,” Sylvia suggested as she started the car. Maybe this was the lead they needed to end this nightmare.

Jackson Street, 12:40 p.m.

Sylvia stood on the street with Jess and Lori as Sergeant Harper and Chad moved in on the bungalow that was in disrepair. The small blue house looked vacant to Sylvia. No vehicles in the driveway. The lawn had grown knee deep last summer and was then left to die in winter. The tall dead grass and weeds now looked more like an abandoned hayfield. The other houses along the block were in considerably better condition. Sylvia was surprised this one wasn’t scheduled for demolition.

BPD officers had evacuated the homes nearest this one and had barred each end of the block. Jess and Lori had insisted Sylvia pull on a bulletproof vest. She was grateful she’d chosen slacks and a light wool sweater today. This vest would not have worked with any of her dresses or suits. Jess, on the other hand, looked quite chic in her maternity sized vest. Sylvia sighed. Why was this taking so long?

As if she had spoken aloud, Jess tucked her weapon back into her bag and turned to her. “All clear. We can go in.”

Sylvia hurried to keep up with her strides. For a woman nearing the end of gestation, she moved quickly. “Is Kinslow here?”

Jess shook her head. “Only Hilliard. And he’s alive.”

The rickety porch led to an interior that appeared to be in somewhat better condition but gave the impression the residents were hoarders. Decades old wallpaper was peeling from the walls. Doors that had once been white were a faded shade of gray. Jess passed Sylvia shoe covers and gloves. Harper called out:
Stay calm, sir, BPD!

“Smells putrid in here.” Jess held a gloved hand over her nose and mouth.

“It is,” Sylvia confirmed. “What you smell is death.” She met Jess’s gaze. “It’s the cancer.”

The house had only four rooms and a small bath that Sylvia didn’t dare enter. Hilliard lay in a bed in the larger of the two bedrooms. The smell was nearly unbearable. Sylvia didn’t have to lift his sheets to know a number of his organs were failing him.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Hilliard said, his voice weak as Jess and Lori entered the bedroom.

Sylvia remained by the door. She could hear and see all she needed to from right here. The man’s skin was yellow with the poison his body was no longer able to handle. He looked nothing like the photos they had viewed of him taken as recently as twelve years ago. He was hardly more than skin and bone. His insides were rotting no matter that his heart continued to beat.

“Deputy Chief Jess Burnett,” Jess said, showing her badge. “This is Detective Lori Wells. We’re calling an ambulance for you, sir. Until it arrives, we need to ask you a few questions.”

Watching Jess and Lori work was like observing a carefully choreographed dance. Lori was already making the call before Jess said the words. Harper and Chad were going through the other rooms looking for evidence. Hayes remained at the Baker scene to oversee activities there.

“Don’t bother with the ambulance. I’m dying.” A dim smile lifted the man’s chapped lips. “You just missed Bernie. We’ve already said our goodbyes.”

“Where is Mr. Kinslow?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Hilliard closed his eyes. “He was always such a dependable assistant. He knew exactly what to do without me having to say a word. I never had to worry.”

Jess turned to Lori. “Get the surveillance detail at both locations on the line. I want visuals on both residents.”

Sylvia stepped aside as Lori left the room. Had Jess just asked her to get a visual on Mr. Taylor and Daddy?

Sylvia stepped into the room as Jess spoke again, “Mr. Hilliard if you’re aware of Kinslow’s whereabouts and intent, that makes you an accessory.”

Hilliard didn’t answer. He was still breathing but was either opting not to respond or had slipped into unconsciousness.

Sylvia moved to the bedside table and surveyed the array of bottles. “There’s no physician or pharmacy listed on any of these meds. He probably ordered them online.” She shook the bottle of oxycodone. “I don’t know how many were in here, but it’s empty now.” There were several empty bottles with the same label. “Oxy,” she told Jess. “He may have purposely taken an overdose.”

“Damn it.” Jess turned around. “Where is—?”

“The paramedics are here,” Lori said from the door.

Sylvia wasn’t sure there was anything anyone could do at this point.

As they cleared out of the room for the paramedics to take over, Lori said, “Mr. Taylor called.”

Jess briefed the paramedics before turning back to Lori. “Has he heard from Kinslow?”

“He’s meeting with Senator Baron right now and the two of them have decided they’d like to make a statement before turning themselves in.”

“Turning themselves in?” Sylvia echoed. Confusion mixed with the underlying fear that had been haunting her since this thing started. “What does that mean?”

Lori shrugged. “That’s what he said.”

“Maybe police protection is looking a little more appealing now,” Jess suggested. To Sylvia, she added, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Sylvia assured her. “I couldn’t be more relieved.”

“We’ll leave Sergeant Harper and Detective Cook in charge here,” Jess said as they stepped out onto the porch. “Check with the surveillance detail at the senator’s home and confirm Taylor’s arrival.”

“On it.” Lori headed for her Mustang.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Jess called after her.

When they reached her car, Sylvia asked, “What do you think Kinslow will do once you’ve foiled his plans?”

“I don’t know,” Jess admitted. “I’d prefer to be taking him down right this instant, but I can live with simply moving his intended victims out of reach. Sometimes you just have to go with what you’ve got.”

Sylvia was beginning to understand that sometimes the small victories were the most important.

Shook Hill Road, 1:15 p.m.

“I know how you got onto the property,” Robert said, “but what I can’t figure out is how you got into the garage and then into my home.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Isaiah Taylor repeated. He shook his head and then looked away, unable to face Robert. “It’s just as well, this has to end.”

Robert wished there was something he could say to his old friend. Isaiah Taylor was a good man. He was only guilty of making the same bad decision Robert had made all those years ago. Like Sam, Joe, and Harmon, they had believed they could contain this situation, but they had been wrong. Kinslow had managed to slip past Taylor’s surveillance detail. He’d walked right into Taylor’s home and warned that unless he was able to finish this today, he would disappear. Then one day, when they were least expecting him, he would come back. Only next time he would come after their loved ones. He’d already proven how very capable he was.

Isaiah was correct. This needed to end.

Kinslow laughed, the sound lacking any sort of humor as he turned from his work on the wall across the room. “You all have housekeepers. Overworked, underpaid women who go home exhausted from trying to please.” He shrugged. “I followed them. Took their keys, made copies, and placed them back on their key rings before they ever noticed they were missing. It was simple.” He picked up another newspaper clipping. “You see, they don’t have houses with fancy alarm systems.” He laughed again. “All but one had the security codes to your homes written down in their wallets.” Shaking his head, he turned back to the wall. “You should be more careful who you trust with your secrets, gentlemen.”

“What do you want from us?” Isaiah demanded before lapsing into quiet sobs. “Just tell us what you want.”

While his old friend pleaded with their captor, Robert tugged at the restraints securing his wrists. There would be no escaping these bindings. He sighed. Perhaps he should have listened to Sylvia and Jess. Pride had gotten in his way. He didn’t want his daughters and his wife to know what he had done. How would he have ever looked them in the eye again if they learned he wasn’t the hero they thought him to be?

No. It was better this way. His family would never be safe until this ended. It had to end here and now.

“Suffering a few regrets, Senator?”

He looked up as Kinslow moved toward him. He wished his heart would stop pounding so hard. The fear burning his eyes threatened to humiliate him even more. At least he wasn’t losing his grip as Isaiah was.

“I have my share,” he admitted. There was no point pretending. Robert recognized that it was highly unlikely either of them would survive this day. “You know the police will have the house surrounded by now. They’ll come in after you. You won’t get away unless you—”

He patted his chest. “Not to worry, Senator, I have a backup plan. I may not get out of here, but neither will the two of you.”

“You don’t have to do this, Bernie.”

“Do you have any idea what you and the others did to him?” He removed a small device from his pocket.

Robert couldn’t quite make out what he held in his hand. A small, black rectangular object about the size of a cell phone. “We were wrong.” Robert met his furious gaze. “We were selfish and indifferent. There is no excuse.”

“I promised him each of you would get a taste of what he endured before you take your final breaths.” He pressed the black object to Robert’s neck. “I won’t let him down the way you and the others did.”

“What about the shameful actions we took against you?” Robert searched the other man’s face. “We let you go to prison for a crime you didn’t commit to ensure you were properly discredited as a potential witness. We should pay for that, too.” Robert prayed his delay tactic would work. He worried a little now that Isaiah had abruptly fallen silent. Had Kinslow already administered a lethal dose to Isaiah as he had done to Harmon and Joe?

Kinslow’s jaw tightened. “I was beaten every day for the first four months in that place. Eventually I learned how to avoid attention. I kept my head down and I did whatever I had to do to survive. And I learned all I could from those who actually were criminals. There was just one thing that kept me going.” He leaned his face close to Robert’s. “The knowledge that when I got out I was going to make you all suffer for what you’d done.”

“Wilson is very fortunate to have you as his friend,” Robert said quietly. “Few have the chance to share such a friendship.”

“I’m the one who’s lucky,” Kinslow sneered. “Now, close your eyes and remember all that you have enjoyed because he chose you. You would be nothing if not for him.”

“That’s not true.”

Kinslow glared at him, his lips curled back with fury. “What do you mean it’s not true? Mr. Hilliard made you just as he made the others!”

“He supported my efforts, nudged the right contacts,” Robert argued, “but he didn’t make me who I am. I supported his efforts as well, until he asked for something I couldn’t give.”

“And then you sent him away to be tortured with shock treatments and all manner of unethical treatments! You left him to rot.” Kinslow jabbed what Robert now recognized as a Taser into his throat. “Just like you did me!”

Robert wanted to deny the charge but there was no denying the truth. Both he and Isaiah had looked the other way too many times... they had agreed that steps had to be taken to keep Kinslow quiet. “Will this change what we’ve done? Don’t you want us to face years in prison as you did?”

“Ha! Your hotshot lawyers would find a way out for you.” Kinslow shook his head. “You were the worst of all, senator. You represent the people. They trust you. Mr. Hilliard trusted you and you failed.”

“I have no excuse,” Robert confessed. “Do what you will, but I still believe you could make a much stronger statement by forcing our foul deeds into the open. Simply ending our lives rather than making us suffer for years as Mr. Hilliard did is clearly the easy way out.”

Kinslow grinned a malevolent expression. “Do you really think I’d allow
you
an easy way out? You just don’t know, senator. But you will. Any minute now.”

Robert felt sick to his stomach. “What do you mean?”

“He made me do it,” Isaiah wailed.

Fear roared through Robert. “What have you done?”

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

Kinslow’s grin widened. “That will be your daughter and that lady cop friend of hers.”

Robert opened his mouth to shout a warning but a jolt of electricity rendered him mute.