A Taste of Tragedy (23 page)

Aaron checked the load on his SIG Sauer P229 and stowed the gun in the waistband of his desert camo cargo pants before leaving his car at a secluded trailhead. He was getting tired of this hike. The emptiness of the desert held no appeal, being filled with so many unusual inhabitants and unpredictable hidden dangers. The hazards of the city were much more foreseeable.

He hoped his luck would hold one more time and he could avoid meeting a rattlesnake in the dark. He would much rather encounter a thug twice his size in a shadowy alley than a reptile out for an evening hunt.

With minimal light to give away his presence, he made his way cautiously toward Morgan’s adobe home. As he crept closer to the structure, the light from her windows provided ample illumination, allowing him to extinguish his tiny beam.

Standing in the shadows to allow his eyes to adjust to the lighting, he focused on the house. He couldn’t see in the windows from this distance, but clearly, she was here as he’d suspected. This morning, the Jeep was in the garage, but other than that, everything looked the same.

Inching further back into the shadows, he retrieved his cell phone.
Sofia
answered the call on the first ring.

“Yes, she’s here. What do you want me to do?” He listened for a moment and wasn’t happy with his instructions. He acknowledged much of the blame for the current situation rested with him, so he didn’t have a lot of grounds to argue. “Why can’t I extract the information out of her here, and then take her for a fatal ride in her four-wheel drive? This place is rugged. I can easily make it look like she drove off a cliff at night.”

“I need to look her in the eye when she eventually answers our questions about the dissemination of the e-mails to know if she’s lying,”
Sofia
said. “She could tell you anything and you’d probably believe it just to get the job done. Besides, men are so susceptible to being played by a beautiful woman in distress. I’m very good at detecting lies, which is what makes me such an effective lobbyist. So, subdue her, bring her back to
Phoenix
, and I’ll take over from there. We have to ensure all electronic and print copies of those messages are destroyed and find out if she’s talked to anyone.”

Aaron didn’t like the plan one bit. The likelihood of getting caught always increased the longer the captor kept someone alive and the further he or she tried to move the person. It would be easy enough to subdue Morgan, but getting her back to
Phoenix
without being detected would be a challenge.

He removed his shoes once again to eliminate as much noise as possible and to leave undistinguishable tracks in the dry dirt. He wished he could see into the garage, but it didn’t have any windows.

Creeping quietly through the darkness, he made his way to the back deck and peeked in the kitchen window. He was disappointed to find Morgan sitting on the couch with a blonde woman who was clearly offering support. Though the additional person did explain why one vehicle sat outside the two-car garage.

What if she’s telling the woman about the sweetener and the issues raised in the e-mails?

There was no way he could subdue both women and transport them to
Phoenix
in such a short period of time. Morgan’s car was a small cross-over with no actual trunk and limited cargo space, and he had no idea what the blonde woman drove. He would need his rental for the job, and that would take time he didn’t have.

With no way to know what Morgan was telling the woman, he saw no other option. He would have to kill the blonde and then take Morgan to
Sofia
. After the lights went out, he’d make his move.

Slinking back into the scrub, he waited.

Nick smiled as he wandered around the garage. Nothing much had changed since the last time he’d been here. Everything was in its own special, well-organized place. Some of the labels he’d made for all the little bins of nails, screws, and other small hardware had faded, but otherwise it looked just as he’d left it years ago.

When Morgan first contacted him, he wasn’t sure how he felt. He was still angry she had chosen her career over him, but he missed her so much it was worth the pain and anger just to hear her voice, and to see her again. He had never quit loving her, but his pride hadn’t allowed him to play second fiddle to her career.

All he’d ever wanted was to be number one in her life, for her to choose him above all else. But then again, he could have given up his career for her, but he didn’t. They had reached a stalemate. Both wanted the other to give up something neither was willing to let go of, so they parted ways.

For now, he had to put his personal feelings aside. The thread linking Dexter Fowler, Stan Jacobson, and Morgan together made him fear for her safety. At the moment, he couldn’t even bring himself to care about whom or what Coterie really was. His only concern was keeping Morgan safe and bringing the group down before any more people died. For that, he had to maintain his objectivity.

Even after a thorough look around the interior of the garage, he didn’t see the wooden rod, but he did see the broken broom handle Morgan had mentioned. Retrieving a tape measure and handsaw, he cut the item into the correct length to jam into the door track.

After putting everything back in its proper place and sweeping up the sawdust, he pulled out his cell phone and checked his messages. There was nothing from his home office, but one message from Bob Tanner.

He accessed his voice mail and listened to Bob’s message. Apparently, Stan Jacobson’s building had security cameras in the lobby. The discs hadn’t been recorded over yet, which was a miracle after so much time had passed. Bob had looked through the footage from the hours around the estimated time of death. He recognized a man from staking out Giant Cactus Foods earlier in the day. He identified the man as Aaron Truscott. The footage didn’t verify if Aaron went to Stan’s apartment, nor could it prove he killed Stan, but it did throw a major shadow of doubt on the suicide determination. Bob stated he’d go visit with Mr. Truscott in the morning and get back to him.

Nick glanced at his watch and realized morning wasn’t all that far away. He wasn’t sure if he could shut his mind down enough to sleep, but he had to try if he was going to be worth anything in the morning.

He hadn’t slept well from the moment Morgan first contacted him. Despite the lack of details in their earlier conversations, he sensed she was in trouble and not telling him everything. Add a late-night stakeout and a major drug bust that ran into the early hours of the morning, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a decent night’s rest.

Flipping off the lights, Nick went back inside the house. He wedged the rod in the sliding door track and then made his way to the guest bath off the hall. After a quick shower, he poured himself two-fingers of scotch and settled on the sofa in front of the television.

The news from
Phoenix
was even more depressing than
Salt
Lake
’s, so he flipped through the channels until he came across a travel show on
Mexico
. He glanced up at the mantle and smiled at the sight of the gnome. That figure represented some of the best days of his life. With the beaches of
Mexico
filling the screen, he sipped his scotch and let his mind wander back to happier times with Morgan.

After a half hour, he felt the tension drain away. Reclining back on the couch, he turned off the television, pulled a blanket over his body, and sleep claimed him.

Sofia
, in her Candace disguise, walked the four blocks from where she parked her stolen car to the GCF building. She entered the dark and empty building using the key card
Preston
had given her upon arrival. Taking the elevator to the tenth floor, she exited and could see that
Preston
’s office light was on.

“Good evening,
Preston
, or should I say morning?”

“Has Aaron taken care of the problem? Can I go home?”

“Has all the surveillance equipment in the building been disabled?” she asked, not answering his question.

“Yes, I did everything you asked. I got you a car, delivered it where directed, and parked my car several blocks from here. I turned off all video and audio feeds in the building, and have been waiting here for instructions for hours.”

She took a seat across from his desk, not bothering to remove her long, light-weight trench coat and thin driving gloves. She studied his expression. He didn’t look as nervous as he should, which put her on alert. “I thought it would be prudent for us to wait for confirmation together in case we need to change the plan. I’ve located a place where we can talk privately to Ms. Hunter once Aaron brings her to me.”

“Why don’t we go to her? Why wait here?”

“First, you won’t be going anywhere with me. I doubt you have the fortitude to do what must be done in order to encourage her to tell us what we need to know. Besides, there is no point in risking you being seen with her.”

Sofia
feared he might vomit. His face paled as the comprehension of what Morgan’s last hours on earth would entail. He had to know that Morgan couldn’t be allowed to live. She knew too much.

“Now,
Preston
, you aren’t getting cold feet, are you? You knew the plan.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think you would actually torture her and that she was going to suffer.”

“The degree of fear and pain will be totally up to her. If she cooperates, our time together will be short.”

“This is all wrong. Stan had nothing going on in his life and I really don’t know what happened to him, anyway. Morgan is a beautiful woman with a promising career. She’s smart, kind, and everyone here except Aaron took an immediate liking to her, especially Wiley.”

“Men,” Sofia huffed. “You would all be much further ahead if you thought with your brain rather than your libido.”
Sofia
stood and walked to the window. During the day, the view from Preston’s office was impressive. All the tall buildings had some degree of exterior nighttime lighting, but none appeared to be in use. In the distance, she saw numerous flashing lights, most likely from an accident. Some of the lights no doubt belonged to law enforcement, which she had so far been successful in avoiding.

“Does anyone in the building ever work this late?”

“Never,”
Preston
replied.

“Let’s head down to Wiley’s office in the plant. I don’t want anyone to notice the lights on up here and call the authorities.”

“Good idea,” Preston replied unenthusiastically as he followed
Sofia
out of his office, turning off the lights as they exited.

Sofia
held the stairwell door open for him and he passed through obediently. They descended flight after flight of stairs through a dark windowless corridor leading to a dark windowless facility.

“Why don’t we just take the elevator?”
Preston
asked.

Not responding,
Sofia
continued to follow
Preston
as they descended. The motion tightened his jacket across his back and she could see the outline of a shoulder holster, her suspicions for his confidence confirmed.

In Wiley’s office, the balance of power had shifted.
Sofia
took the seat behind the desk, leaving
Preston
no choice but to sit in the small, uncomfortable visitor’s chair.

“What now? How long do we wait?”
Preston
asked. “This place gives me the creeps at night, and this office is totally depressing.”

Sofia
’s patience wore thin. She hated all the questions and complaining, but she was amused by his misplaced confidence. As he fidgeted in his chair across from her in Wiley’s office, she noticed him pat his chest, no doubt a subconscious movement seeking reassurance. Unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t change the outcome of their evening together.

Devyn had always been a light sleeper. Even though she had gone to bed very late and was exhausted, a faint sound brought her abruptly out of her slumber. The sound resembled a thud, like something being dropped, but since the noise caught her partially in and partially out of sleep, she couldn’t be sure. She lay still for a moment and listened.

Nothing.

Morgan’s house was built on a slab and completely tiled, so no floors would squeak under a person’s weight. She probably wouldn’t hear footsteps, and since there were two others in the house, the sound of footsteps wouldn’t necessarily mean anything was wrong.

The thought crossed her mind that maybe Nick was sneaking into Morgan’s room, and it made her smile. The notion quickly vanished from her mind as she detected a slight shuffling sound. Legitimate residents of the house wouldn’t be trying so hard to remain quiet and undetected.

Devyn slid silently out of bed and crouched on the floor, the mattress between her and the door. She reached toward the nightstand and felt around until her fingers closed over her Glock. Pulling the gun close to her chest, she waited, keeping below the mattress’s lumpy profile.

After a few seconds, a faint light fanned over the bed. The beam came closer and she held her breath. It could be Nick, but something told her it wasn’t. The movements weren’t quite right. Whoever this person was, he or she moved with the practiced skill of a successful thief.

She peeked under the bed and all she could see were legs clad in what looked to be camouflage pants and feet wearing black socks. Nick had been wearing blue jeans. She had heard the shower, so maybe he had changed, but she had never seen Nick in a pair of desert camo pants before.

As the light moved away, Devyn chanced a glimpse of the retreating shadow. She couldn’t see enough features to identify the person, but the body definitely belonged to a man other than Nick. The man wasn’t as tall, his shoulders weren’t as broad, and his hair was a couple shades darker.

She exhaled with relief as the beam swung toward the living room rather than in the direction of Morgan’s room. Confident the civilian—Morgan—was safe from the immediate threat, Devyn rose to her feet and closed the distance between her and the intruder. As he reached the end of the hallway, but before he had a clear view of the living room, Devyn raised her weapon.

“Freeze. Move a muscle and I’ll put a bullet between your shoulder blades,” Devyn stated in a calm, firm tone, yet loud enough to wake Nick.

As she assumed he would, Nick reacted quickly.

“Do as she says, and put the gun down slowly,” Nick demanded.

Devyn steadied her aim. Even though Nick looked ready and intimidating, she knew he was handicapped without his glasses. She heard the rustling of a hastily donned robe approaching from behind.

“Get back in your room, Morgan,” Devyn ordered.

“Put down your weapon,” Nick demanded again as he adjusted his position to ensure Devyn wasn’t in his trajectory’s path.

The man extended his hands in the air, gun pointed skyward, and turned slowly to face Devyn.

“Aaron,” Morgan gasped, as she stepped quickly backwards, trying to get out of his line of sight.

Taking advantage of the slight distraction caused by Morgan’s gasp, Aaron dove for cover behind the kitchen island. Nick fired. At such close range, the bullet went completely through Aaron’s shoulder and exited, shattering the sliding glass door behind him. Wasting no time, Aaron plunged through the weakened pane and disappeared into the darkness.

“I got this. Stay with her in case he doubles back,” Devyn shouted as she darted out into the night wearing only the shorts and t-shirt she slept in.