The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller (10 page)

Delaney glared at Jenny for what seemed like an eternity.
Neither moved, neither said a word. Then he motioned for her to go to the
closet.

Jenny wanted to turn and run out of the room, forget
everything. But she could not, she wanted answers from him first. When it
became clear, he would not tell her more until she got the key, she walked over
to the door and did as he said. Once the key fell from its enclosure, the outer
door opened. Jenny quickly stepped back into the closet and let the door swing
shut until there was only a crack for her to look through.

She watched as a man in white hospital garb walked slowly into
the room. His back was to her, but as he neared the light, Jenny could not take
her eyes off the white hair that was as void of color as the uniform he wore.
She turned to Delaney lying on the bed, and watched him slide the note pad
under the covers. She tried to block out the sound of him trying to call out,
but nothing stopped the sound of gurgling as he struggled.

Delaney grabbed for the button, but it was ripped from his
grasp. The stranger stood over Delaney and taunted him with his smile. All
Jenny could do was stand there in the closet and watch as the man in white
secured Delaney to the bed. Then she stared in horror as he injected something
into the IV tube. Her heart raced.

"You know how I hate having to do this," the
stranger said in a monotone voice that could cut through ice.

Jenny watched Delaney struggle to free himself from the restraints,
but it was useless. He was no match for the man in white.

Within minutes, the convulsing body on the bed went limp and
lay motionless. Delaney's eyes were fixed on the ceiling, void of all life. In
that moment the man in the white uniform bent over and kissed Delaney's
forehead. It was the kiss of death.

Jenny gasped while stepping back. The closet door snapped
shut. The hangers rattled in the darkness. She heard the footsteps outside the
door. Jenny wanted to scream out, but could not. The closet door opened slowly.
She cringed in the corner and waited.

"Code Blue! Code Blue! Room 753!"

Suddenly the closet door shut again. When Jenny heard the
outer door shut too, she stepped out of the closet and walked over to the bed.
Jenny looked into the eyes that saw nothing.

The door swung open suddenly. Jenny quickly grabbed the note
pad from under the covers, and then was shoved out of the way by a nurse. A
doctor rushed in with two more nurses, and all Jenny could do was stand back
and watch. No one took notice of who she was or why she was there.

"No pulse," the nurse said; she glanced up at the
doctor for instructions, but he was too busy working the chest.

"What happened here?" he snapped.

"Flatline," the nurse yelled while staring up at the
heart monitor. She turned to the doctor. "He was okay ten minutes
ago."

"Stand back," the doctor ordered while taking the
paddles off the crash cart. He rubbed them together quickly before giving
Delaney a jump-start.

Jenny took one last look at what they were doing. Delaney's
body jumped for a moment, but nothing came on the monitor, just the single flat
line and the low hum indicating no beat. The long needle being injected into
Delaney's chest cavity made her cringe. Cold sweat dripped down her brow. She
turned and took a deep breath. Still, no one took notice of her. Quickly she
was out of the room and down the hall. She ran to the elevator, pushed the
button, and then waited. It was not until the door opened and she stepped in
that she turned and saw the white-haired stranger coming toward her. She
quickly pressed the Close button; the door slowly shut while a gurney was
shoved in front of the opening. Jenny stared into the icy blue eyes of the man
in Delaney's room. He reached for her, but the gurney separated him from the
small enclosure and his victim.

Once the door shut, Jenny leaned back against the wall. Her
chest pounded with every stop, and she feared the stranger would be waiting for
her when the door opened. When the elevator reached the lobby, she made a dash
for the exit. She did not turn or stop to look back until she was inside a
taxi. Only then did she rest long enough to turn, but did not see anyone
following her.

CHAPTER 9

By the time Gideon got off the phone with Colby, it was
already one-twenty. He reached Delaney's room in time to see the doctor suspend
all efforts to revive the lifeless body on the bed. There were five people in
the room. One doctor, three nurses, and an orderly who walked out as Gideon
walked in. Gideon quickly turned to the man before he got too far, grabbing his
sleeve.

"Where's the guard?" Gideon demanded while pointing.
"He was at this door."

"Who?" the orderly asked, shrugging his shoulders
with indifference.

Gideon did not wait to explain. He walked out and rushed up to
the nurse's station, looked for a familiar face, but saw none until Maxine
walked out of the back room. Gideon turned.

"What happened to Rico?"

"Rico who?" she asked.

"The guard stationed outside that door," he pointed
down the hall.

"Maybe he's on break."

"He doesn't get a break," Gideon snapped.

"Well, pardon me," Maxine said. "It wasn't my
turn to watch him."

Just then, Jake strolled up with coffee in hand. Gideon raced
toward him, pinning him to the wall while sending the coffee splattering onto
the wall.

"Where were you?" Gideon demanded.

"Rico told me to go on break." Jake's eyes darted,
looking for backup that was not there.

"Rico isn't around." Gideon shook his head.

"He called the nurse's station."

"Did you talk to him?" Gideon asked.

"No." Jake looked down the hall where once stood his
partner and friend.

Without letting go of Jake's jacket, Gideon turned to Maxine.
"Have all the rooms checked down that hall."

"What are they looking for?" she asked.

"I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't
count."

Maxine got on the phone and within minutes people were
scurrying about. Gideon turned to Jake, slammed him against the wall again.
"I can't believe you did this."

"It wasn't my fault."

"Just shut up, will you," Gideon snapped. He turned
and slammed his fist into the wall, making the throbbing in his head worse.

"Found him," an orderly yelled from down the hall,
three doors from Delaney's room.

Gideon released Jake and ran down the hall, followed close
behind by the redheaded cop. Gideon entered the room. He looked around. The
pungent smell of disinfectant hung heavy, white linens lay in neat rows, the
receiver dangled from the cord. Then his eyes rested on Rico slumped in the
corner, staring at the door but seeing nothing. It was a clean kill. Gideon
guessed he never felt the pain. He had seen this kind of kill before, when you
did not want the enemy to cry out.

Jake made a quick sign of the cross. He could not take his
eyes off the lifeless form of his partner. They had been together for four years.
Jake was to be godfather of Rico's unborn child, and now this. How would he
explain this to Maria? Jake turned to Gideon.

"I had no idea."

"What were you here for?" Gideon reached down,
picking up the cigarette butt that lay next to Rico's body. It was an unusual
brand, one he remembered from a long time ago.

Jake mumbled, almost inaudibly, "He just told me to go on
break. How was I to know?"

"You had a job to do, does that tell you something?"
Gideon tossed the butt down. He looked up for a moment, not saying a word. All
he could do was glare at the young man in front of him and fight the urge to
strike the red-haired target.

"I'm sorry, what more can I say?"

"That doesn't bring Delaney back or your partner. Does
it?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just shut up for a moment, will you?" Gideon
turned. His eyes watered while he rubbed his temple.

"What am I going to tell Maria?"

Jake walked out of the room, unable to look at the body on the
floor. This was supposed to be a gravy job. No one really suspected another
attempt would be made.

"Where are you going?" Gideon asked.

"I don't know," Jake whispered.

"We have things to do." Gideon quickly took a hanky,
picked up the phone, and dialed a number.

Jake said nothing. He just stood by and watched Gideon take control
again. But this time was different. There was no life-saving tactics. Jake
glanced at Rico and then turned away, unable to look at the man who was like a
brother to him.

When Gideon put the phone down Jake turned to him. "What
do you want me to do?" All he really wanted was to go home and drink
himself into tomorrow.

"Get me a list of everyone that was on duty today. And
don't let anyone in Delaney's room. I want it dusted for prints." Gideon
snapped orders. After a few moments he turned to Jake. "Oh yeah, while
you're at it, have this room dusted too."

"Is that all?"

"It should be enough for starters."

Gideon knew he was being cruel. He had been through a lot in
the last twenty-four hours. He knew Delaney had information on something that
was coming down soon. People in high places were willing to pay big bucks for
the information. He feared even more was offered to keep Delaney quiet. Now he
would never know. It angered him that if he had gotten off the phone sooner he
could have prevented it all.

* * *

Jenny shut her eyes while resting her head on the back seat of
the taxi. Her thoughts drifted to valleys of her youth and, for a fleeting
moment, she detected the sweet scent of lilacs. However, the raunchy smell of
exhaust mixed with stale tobacco grabbed her back to reality. She listened to
the driver chatter about world affairs, and then focused on the announcer
talking about Egyptian alliances, America's involvement, and people up in arms.
Jenny covered her ears and tried to block it all out, not wanting to listen to
any of it.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Jenny did not answer. She did not really know where she wanted
to go yet.

The driver stopped for a red light, turned to her, and waited
impatiently.

She stared into his dark eyes, feared being told to get out,
and then finally replied, "Penn Station."

Why she said it, she was not sure. Jenny reached in her
pocket. It was the first time since leaving the hospital room that she touched
the key. As the cab danced through the traffic, Jenny turned around to see if
anyone was following. A cold chill went through her, thinking about Delaney and
the vision of him being immobilized while death claimed him.

Jenny took the notebook out of her pocket and read all of what
Delaney wrote. But then she saw something that was not there before, the
scribbled name: Ian. She wondered what it meant. Was it a warning? Did Delaney
purposely write it for her?

Once the cab stopped outside Penn Station, Jenny froze. She
almost told the driver to take her home, to MacDougal Alley, to the safety of
her third floor flat, where life was simple and people loved and cared about
her.

"Lady, you getting out?" the driver asked.

Jenny looked up at him, not sure of anything anymore.
"Let me think a minute."

"Look, lady," he said sternly, "I don't got all
day. You do have the fare, don't you?"

"Yes," Jenny whispered.

He reached over the seat, almost touching her while he waited.
"That will be eight fifty. Unless you have somewhere else you want to
go?"

Jenny dug in her pocket. She handed the man the money and then
got out. She walked through the doors that lead to the terminal. There were
lockers on either side but the numbers she saw were not anywhere near the
number on the key she held. Jenny fought her way, bumping commuters trying to exit
the station. Finally, like a beacon in a moment of panic she saw the sign
Information Center, with an arrow pointing to the left. Jenny fought her way
through the steady flow of people.

The long-haired scruffy-looking young man behind the counter
was indifferent to all around him as he sat there behind the window glued to a
racing form. Jenny waited for him to acknowledge her presence. When he did not,
she leaned forward and tapped impatiently on the desk until he slowly glanced
up. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. With his forefinger he pushed
them up, and then glanced at the woman in front of him.

"Yeah, what do you want?" he asked, as if it was an
imposition to be asked a question.

Jenny handed him the key. "Could you tell me where to find
this locker?"

"Can't remember, can we?"

Jenny glared at him, not willing to be the brunt of his
sarcasm because she asked him to do his job.

"Just tell me."

The young man slouched back in his chair and tossed the key
back at Jenny. He put his nose back in the racing form, then pointed down the
long narrow hall to his right.

"Down there, at the end."

Jenny turned and walked down the dimly lit hall that led
nowhere. Her heart raced as the numbers got closer to the number on the key.
Then finally she stood at the end of the hall, staring at the locker she was
looking for. When she heard footsteps coming closer she turned and glanced at
an old man in tattered baggy pants with a greasy blue polo shirt. Jenny looked
beyond him to the Information Center, but all she saw was the head of the young
man, still indifferent to all around him. Jenny wanted to scream out, but did
not dare. All she could do was watch as the old man walked closer. When he got
within ten feet of her, she saw the scruffy beard and the droopy eyes of
someone who drank more meals than he ate. His hand was shaking as he extended
it, but there was no weapon.

"Could you spare some change?" he pleaded with a
pathetic look in his eye that even a cold-hearted person could not refuse.

Jenny stared. She realized he was just a panhandler begging
for his next drink. She quickly reached into her purse. "Here," is
all she said as she threw the man a dollar bill, too scared to get closer.

The old man picked up the bill, glancing at Jenny with a mouth
of half-missing teeth.

"Thank you," he said, then turned and scurried off.

Jenny leaned on the wall of lockers and watched the old man
disappear into the flow of people at the other end. She turned, put the key in
the lock, and opened the door. For a brief moment, Jenny shut her eyes before
glancing inside the locker. She reached in and pulled out the brown envelope
that lay in back. Jenny looked down the hall, but no one took any notice of her
or even cared what she was doing. She tucked the envelope under her arm, and
then walked back the way she came, passing the young man at the desk. He still
ignored the world around him.

Jenny was sucked into the flow of commuters. She struggled
while trying to maneuver to a bench off the side. Once there, she sat down and
watched the stream of people passing by. She looked at the brown envelope that
she held, then slid her fingertips under the tape and emptied its contents onto
her lap. Two bulky envelopes slid out with a pile of dog tags. It startled her
at first. She reached in and pulled out the folded piece of paper. Slowly she
unfolded it and just stared at the topographical map. Jenny looked at the
bottom,
Catoctin Mountains, Maryland
.
The handwritten scrawl at the bottom did not make sense. The names Red Eagle
and Snow Fox puzzled her, along with the three dates, one being only a week
away.

Jenny glanced around, then pulled a few sheets of paper out of
the envelope and stared blankly. It was just a listing of numbers and dashes
alongside letters of the alphabet. She wondered if it was a code of some sort
or a sick game of charades she was asked to play a part in. Jenny picked up the
dog tags and looked through all of them until she found the one that her
instincts told her was there. When she read the name she clenched tightly to
the cold metal and realized Delaney had told her the truth. Unlike the rest
there was only one dog tag attached to the chain.

Jenny put the pile of dog tags back in the envelope along with
the map and sheets of paper. She got up and started walking away, but suddenly
felt a tug on her arm. Her heart raced thinking about the man with the snowy
white hair, and then turned almost ready to strike out at whoever pulled at her
sleeve.

"You dropped this." An elderly man in a brown tweed
suit said. His outstretched hand held the two small envelopes and the kind
smile across his face made her relax for a moment.

Jenny reached for the two envelopes. All she could muster up
was a feeble, "Thank you."

"Are you okay?" the elderly man asked.

"Yes," she said, finally regaining control. "I
guess my mind was elsewhere."

"You should be more careful."

"You're right," was all Jenny said.

Jenny stared at the elderly man. She quickly put the envelopes
in her purse and followed the stream of people to the exit.

* * *

Ian was within arm’s reach of Jenny when he felt someone bump
against him. In an instant his wallet was gone, but not before he turned and
had the violator by the scruff of the neck.

"Hey, man," the streetwise youth pleaded as he was
dragged into one of the long corridors leading away from the main terminal.

Ian slammed the youth into the locker, smiling as he reached
in his pocket while still hanging onto the kid. One hand was over the kid's
mouth, the other thrust the blade up into the young man's rib cage. Slowly the
body slumped to the ground. Ian wiped the blade on the young man's shirt, bent
down and reached into the kid’s pocket, and took his wallet back. Ian looked
around, and then walked off as if nothing had transpired. When he got to the
exit, he searched the street for the woman, but saw only heads bobbing about.

* * *

Jenny stepped off the bus onto West 9th Street. She stood for
a moment looking up at the old warehouse. Three others got off the bus, but
quickly went in other directions. Jenny entered the old building, took the
freight elevator to the upper level where Benjamin had the top floor all to
himself. Jenny lifted the gate, and then unlocked the steel doors that
separated the outside world from Benjamin's domain.