A Heartbeat Away (14 page)

19

Standing outside a Baltimore high-rise apartment, with the Miranda warning statement still fresh in her mind, Tori vented her frustration at her arresting officer. “I don't understand. How did you know I would be in there? Why were you looking for me?”

The officer was pleasant, a twentysomething patrolman, fit, with a perfect uniform. “Dispatch warned me to look for you, to bring you in. That's all I know.”

He opened the backseat to the police car.

“Why just me? Why not him?” She asked, tilting her head toward Phin.

Phin's mouth fell open.

“Whose idea was it to enter a condemned building?”

Tori put her hands on her hips. “Mine.”

“Exactly.” He shrugged. “I have my orders. They were to arrest you and bring you back to the station for questioning.”

“No one knew I would be here.”

The officer adjusted his hat. The name clipped to the front pocket of his uniform said “Robins.” “Evidently someone thought you would. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been alerted.”

She looked at Phin. “Do something.”

He held up his hands. “There's nothing to do. Go with him. I'll follow in my car.”

She sat in the backseat.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

She looked at the young officer in his rearview mirror through the Plexiglas that separated them.
Make me.
She grumbled and complied.

“What were you doing in there?”

“Whatever happened to ‘whatever you say can be used against you in a court of law'?”

“It applies. I just thought you might like to tell me the story.”

“I wanted to see, that's all.”

“You could get hurt. The building is condemned for a reason. What did you want to see?”

“I wanted to remember.”

“You lived there?”

“Not exactly.” She shifted in her seat, noting that there didn't seem to be any way to get out of the backseat. The door didn't have a handle. “What happens now?”

“You'll be allowed to give a statement if you wish.”

“Do I need an attorney?”

“I can't imagine why you'd want one. This is a simple thing. You were trespassing.”

“So why make a deal of it?”

“Someone at the district office wants to talk to you. That's all I know.”

As they drove, Tori's mind spun ahead, thinking of the consequences if anyone back at VCU learned of her activities.
This is crazy. A disaster.

A few minutes later, Officer Robins led her into the station she'd left earlier that day. Some of the same faces still populated the waiting area. As she walked, she avoided looking at their eyes. She didn't want to think about their plight. She didn't want to feel their pain.

She was fingerprinted and photographed, then placed in another nondescript room with a table and two chairs. There she waited, patiently at first. But after what seemed like an hour, she started pacing the little room, back and forth, until finally, another officer entered. This one had more stripes on his uniform. Gray salted his short hair. “I'm Captain Ellis,” he said. “You must be Dr. Taylor.”

She nodded. “Look, all I did was trespass.” She held up her hands toward her surroundings. “I'm being treated like a criminal.”

“Oh, don't worry about all this.” He paused and sat, gesturing toward the opposite chair.

“Don't worry? I've never been arrested before.” She sat.

“Dr. Taylor, I'm sure my department can move beyond that. We can overlook a simple trespass as long as you are willing to cooperate with us.”

She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. “I don't understand.”

He rotated a silver pen through his fingers, rolling it around first one and then the other, cartwheeling the pen forward and backward over his knuckles. “I had an interesting conversation with Officer Bundrick this morning,” he began. “Your information may be useful to us.”

Tori nodded. “I'm glad someone thinks so.”

“Mr. Bundrick tells me you think Dakota Jones was murdered.”

“The short answer is yes.”

“Why don't you give me the long answer?”

Tori explained how she'd received Dakota Jones's heart, gave a brief report on cellular-memory transplant, and the new nightmares and memories she'd had since her surgery.

The captain felt the surface of his flattop gray hair. Evidently satisfied with its smoothness, he smiled. “What do you make of the numbers?”

“I'm not sure. I just think it's a clue somehow to unlocking information that Dakota had. I think she knew of something bad going down and she was silenced because of it.”

“And you know this because—”

“Because I
feel
it.”

Captain Ellis tapped the silver pen against the table. “How committed to finding the truth are you?”

She paused, searching the captain's face. “I feel like I owe Dakota this.”

“Fair enough. Would you be willing to talk to a psychiatrist? I have a consultant who may be able to help bring to light any information you have.”

“Repressed memories.”

He nodded. “Are you okay with that?” He slid his chair away from the table. “Because if you just want to forget the whole thing, I can have the deputies give you a court date to discuss your trespassing before a judge.”

“And if I talk to this psychiatrist?”

“I'll tell my staff to ignore the trespass.”

“You're threatening me?”

“Let's say I am more inclined to show favor toward those who are helping us. Call it a plea bargain.”

“And you want this information for what reason?”

“Look at this from my viewpoint. Wouldn't you want to know if someone was murdered? It wouldn't look good if we just ignored that, would it?”

“Why didn't you look into it before now?”

“We weren't aware that there was anything to investigate. Officer Bundrick was first on the scene and didn't find anything suspicious.”

Tori sighed. “I can talk to your psychiatrist.” She shook her head. “Anything to stop these nightmares.”

The captain nodded and smiled. “That a girl.”

She glanced at him quickly before looking away. The whole thing felt a little … well,
greasy
was the only word she could find. “I'd like some information as well,” she said.

He shrugged. “Like what?”

“Who was Dakota Jones?”

“Who was she?” He stared above Tori's head and seemed to be seeing something in his mind. “A drifter. A druggie. Single. No family.” He looked back at Tori. “Probably not what you wanted to know about your transplant, huh?”

“I was one of the lucky ones. Some people don't get a match from anyone.”

“I wouldn't want a woman's heart,” he said. “No disrespect to you, of course.”

She ignored his comment. “What do you know about Christian Mitchell? I talked to a boy who knew Dakota Jones down at the apartment this afternoon. He said he heard Dakota arguing with this guy. Maybe he's the one who wanted her dead.”

“He was a doctor, some sort of resident physician at Johns Hopkins. I can look into it, but at first glance, he seems pretty clean.”

“Just check him out.”

“Very well,” he said. “You're free to go. Just stay away from that apartment building. You'll be hearing from Dr. Mary Jaworski. She's the psychiatrist I mentioned.”

“So I can leave? Just like that? What about the arrest?”

“What arrest?” he said.

She walked out, shaking her head in disbelief.

Behind her, she could hear the captain laughing, first almost under his breath, and then rising to a crescendo.

She saw Phin in the waiting room. “Let's get out of here.”

“What gives?”

She didn't explain until they were in the car. “I don't get it,” she added. “When I talked to Officer Bundrick, he barely acted interested. Now, I get brought in under the pretense that I was being arrested only to talk to this captain who tells me my arrest will be forgotten as long as I talk to a psychiatrist.”

Phin pulled into traffic.

“It was like the whole thing was orchestrated to scare me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“For one thing, why didn't they arrest you? We were both trespassing.”

“It does seem strange.” Phin patted her hand. “Why don't you relax? I'm sure they will check into things now that you've started the ball rolling.” He let his hand rest on hers and gave her another gentle squeeze. “And maybe an interview with this psychiatrist will help you sort out your memories. It could help you know the truth.”

She turned her hand over and explored his, palm to palm, tracing her fingers against his.

She closed her eyes, content to let her hand lie in his. “I hope so,” she whispered. “I can't take much more of this.”

A minute later, as Phin was changing lanes to get on the interstate, Tori looked at her watch. “Let's go back to the apartment,” she said. “I want to talk to Kesha.”

She listened to Phin sigh, so she gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “Come on. For me?”

He glanced at her. “You're used to getting your own way, aren't you?”

She shrugged and offered a little giggle. “Only child. I didn't have to share.”

They made a U-turn at the next intersection. In five minutes, they were back at the condemned apartment. She scanned the street and a dozen occupants. Across from the apartment high-rises, she saw the boy leaning against a storefront. “There's Mike.”

They parked, and Tori made her way across the street, pausing to let a city bus pass.

Mike looked up. He didn't smile. “So they let you out of jail?”

“I didn't go to jail, Mike.”

“A brother would have gone to jail.”

She didn't want to go there. “I want to visit your mother.”

He tilted his head. “She's up.” He paused. “Fifth floor. 502.”

He didn't seem to want to talk. She shrugged and looked at Phin. “Let's go.”

Across the street, they took the elevator to the fifth floor. 502 was the first door on the left.

She knocked. She could hear loud rap music coming from inside.

No response.

She pounded harder.

After a minute, a young woman opened the door against a restraining chain lock. She wore short shorts and a T-shirt that ended above her navel. Without makeup, even with her caramel complexion, she looked washed out. She pressed her face to the opening. “What you want?”

“Kesha?”

“Who's askin'?”

“I'm Tori Taylor. I'd like to ask you a few questions about Dakota Jones.” She nudged Phin forward so Kesha could see him through the opening. “This is a friend of mine, Phin MacGrath.”

“You police?”

“No. A friend.” Tori wasn't sure how to answer, and she didn't want to explain it while standing in the dim hallway. She hesitated. “Can we come in for a moment?”

“Dakota's not around.”

“I know. Your son told me that Dakota was your friend and that she may have told you about some suspicions she had about the man she was with when she—”

“I know what happened. You sure you're not police?”

Tori held up her hands. “I'm sure.”

The woman closed the door and reopened it without the chain latch. “You can sit there.”

The room was furnished with an old green couch. The TV was on. Several glamour magazines were on the floor by the couch. The room smelled of body odor, fried food, and something else. Maybe garlic.

“Why you want to know about Dakota? She in some trouble?”

Tori exchanged glances with Phin. Tori squinted. “You do know what happened.”

“I know about the fire.” Kesha frowned. “That was horrible. They should have fire escapes on all the windows.” She pressed a button on the TV remote to mute the sound. “How she doin'?”

“Kesha,” Tori began. “Dakota didn't make it.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “No!” She shook her head. “Did you tell my baby?”

“No.” Tori reached for her hand. “I thought you knew.”

“I just knew she'd been taken away. They don't tell us nothing 'round this place.”

“Look, I'm trying to figure out exactly what happened. I think someone may have started that fire in order to try to hurt Dakota. I think someone wanted her dead.” Tori paused, not really wanting to explain her reasons.

But Kesha probed. “Why would you think that?”

Tori took a deep breath. “Kesha, Dakota was a heart donor. When she died, they took her heart and gave it to me.” She hesitated, searching Kesha's face. So far, she seemed to be tracking. “But when I woke up after my surgery, I had new memories, memories that I believe came from Dakota.”

“That's wild.”

Tori nodded. “Exactly. Your son mentioned the man that was with Dakota, a doctor, I believe.”

Kesha nodded.

“Do you think that this man would have had reasons to want Dakota dead?”

She shook her head. “No. He was a doctor, a good man, I think. He saw my son down at the clinic.”

“Your son doesn't think he was such a good man. He said he saw Dakota arguing with him.”

“I don't know nothin' 'bout that.”

“Mike said that Dakota told you something about people getting illegal drugs from the clinic.”

Kesha wiped at her eyes. “I can't believe this. She cared about my son.”

Tori placed her hand over her own heart. “Did she tell you anything?”

“Dakota had a drug problem. She was interested in how people were getting OxyContin on the street. She mentioned that she thought the clinic might be involved somehow.”

“And what about this doctor, Christian Mitchell? Was he involved?”

“He worked at the clinic. That's all I know.” She stood and walked over to the window, staring out at the apartment building across the alley. “That was Dakota's apartment.” She turned back to face Tori. “Why would that doctor jump if he was trying to hurt Dakota?”