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Authors: Catherine Coulter

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BOOK: Bombshell (AN FBI THRILLER)
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Henderson County Hospital

Saturday afternoon

The door to Delsey’s memory wouldn’t open even a crack. The more she shoved at the door, the more it made her head hurt.

Griffin strode into the hospital room, paused for a moment in the doorway to study her. “Stop it, Delsey, you’re thinking too hard.”

She flapped her hand at him. “It doesn’t matter how hard I try, I still can’t remember much. Where have you been? Nobody knew.”

He walked to her bed, took her hand. “You were sleeping, so I went to see Professor Salazar. The snow’s been coming down so hard again you can barely see a foot in front of you, but the good professor had managed to convince half a dozen students to drive to his house and clean up the mess from last night. The place was gossip central, once I told them what had happened to you.”

“I’ll bet they were all women, and Professor Salazar won’t pay them a cent. There’s not even any extra credit.”

Griffin smiled. He told her about Gabrielle DuBois in her summer-pink shorts, on her hands and knees searching under the sofa and putting on a show for Professor Salazar.

“Gabrielle has been after him from the moment he stepped out of his brand-new Fiat in September. Then he made the mistake of paying attention to her. She’s having an affair with him, but still, he likes to be among his musicians, especially the women. As you probably saw, this doesn’t make Gabrielle happy. You know, even if he does play like a god and looks really good, he’s still got too many notches on his belt—I wouldn’t want to sleep with him.”

Griffin said, “You’ve always been clear-sighted about people, and living in the melting pot of L.A., I imagine you’ve seen it all before. None of these personalities is new to you. True?”

“Yes, all right, but I sometimes think I saw too much in L.A.” She brightened. “But at least in L.A. the guys on the beach were buff. Hey, did Gabrielle bring him his chilled glass of fresh- squeezed orange juice, the pulp removed?”

“That must have been before I arrived. He was obsessing about a latte. Oh, yes, Gloria sends her best wishes. Now, Salazar told me the director, Dr. Hayman—his twin brother—was all over you last night, plying you with too many margaritas. I think Salazar wants you to replace Gabrielle.”

Delsey shook her head, regretted it, and held perfectly still. “Not me in particular.” And Griffin laughed, since she’d echoed the other women at Salazar’s house.

“Nope. Professor Salazar really wants Anna, not Gabrielle.”

“Anna, as in your best friend?”

“Yep, but he better pray he doesn’t get her, because Anna’s tough, doesn’t put up with any guff.”

“Sort of like you?”

Delsey laughed. “Anna says Professor Salazar’s a talented lush with a cool name and an exaggerated accent, but I know he wants her; I’m only a stray guppy, an afterthought. She’s the one who told me she’d read he and his twin Dr. Hayman were separated as boys and it was Rafael the mom took back to Spain. He is always waxing eloquent about his upbringing in Barcelona and his training at Queen Sofía College of Music in Madrid, studying under the famous Natalia Bron.”

She sighed. “I guess I was drunk.”

“Sounds like it. That’s weird for you, Ms. One Drink.” He turned toward the door. “Ah, here he is, your friend and neighbor, Mr. Stoltzen. He asked if he could come see you.” Griffin nodded to Henry. “Mr. Stoltzen.”

Henry didn’t quite meet his eyes. He whispered, “Please, Agent Hammersmith, call me Henry.”

“All right,” Griffin said, and watched Delsey smile with affection at him.

Henry was different, Delsey knew it when she’d first met him, and she really liked him—impossible not to. She took his hand, shook it. “Hey, dude. You found me and called the paramedics. Thank you.”

Griffin had met music nerds before Henry, and when Stoltzen had stopped him in the lobby, Griffin knew he fit the bill nicely. He was on the short side, his shoulders stooped, his skin vampire-pale and soft-looking, like he’d never thrown anything heavier than a wadded-up piece of paper into a wastebasket. He wore a long goatee, blacker even than his shaggy hair, meaning he probably dyed it. Still, all six inches of it was a pure distraction, an excellent affectation for him. Even though Griffin had read the statement Dix took from Henry, he thought it was a good idea to let him visit with Delsey. Perhaps he would help her remember something.

He watched Henry slink to Delsey’s bedside, and stand looking down at her knees, not her face, shifting his feet back and forth. “It was really bad, Delsey,” he said, finally looking at her face. “I came by earlier to speak to Agent Noble. Then I wanted to see you, but the deputy outside your room wouldn’t let me come in—”

“You didn’t recognize Deputy Claus?”

“Sure, and he recognized me, too, but he said I still needed permission, but Agent Noble was gone and there was no one to give it to me.” He turned to Griffin. “Delsey talks about you a lot.”

“Not all bad,” Delsey said.

Griffin said, “Why didn’t you go to the party, Mr. Stoltzen? Henry?”

“I wasn’t invited. I’m not pretty enough.”

Delsey said to her brother, “Professor Salazar’s parties always have more women than men.”

Both Griffin and Delsey heard spite in Henry’s voice when he said, “According to what I’ve heard, Salazar doesn’t like competition.”

Then where’s the harm in inviting you?
Griffin said, “I know you already told your story to Sheriff Noble and Agent Noble, but please humor me and tell us both again, from the beginning, Mr. . . . Henry.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that.” He looked down at Delsey. “I heard you pull in at about one o’clock and looked out the window, saw you unlock your door and walk in. I admit it, Delsey, I did wonder if you’d had too much fun at Salazar’s party. You looked like you were weaving around a bit.”

Delsey said, “And I’ll never do that again for as long as I live, so help me God.”

“Good,” Griffin said, then turned to Henry again. “You said you heard something come from Delsey’s apartment and it worried you? How long was this after she came in at one o’clock?”

“Maybe about ten minutes before she walked in. I thought I heard some bumping around, like there was someone in her apartment, a visitor maybe, but then I didn’t hear anything else, and so I thought I imagined it. Until Delsey screamed. I banged on the floor and called 911, and then I listened some more, and then I walked down.”

“Do you remember what time it was?” Griffin asked.

Henry’s eyes darted to Griffin’s face. He popped his knuckles. “You know, it took me a while to decide there really was a problem, Delsey. I didn’t know for sure until you screamed. But I thought maybe you had a guy staying with you, and I didn’t want to intrude.”

Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice?

Delsey snorted. “Come on, Henry, when was the last time I had a guy over for the night?”

“Well, now that I think about it, maybe never.”

“It’s sad,” Delsey said. “Anna’s always telling me to get rid of the bushel.”

“Bushel?” Henry asked.

“As in hiding your light under—”

“Hey, that’s funny, Delsey.” Henry beamed at her.

Griffin said smoothly, “How long did you wait after you called 911 before you went downstairs and through Delsey’s front door, Henry?”

“I heard some more noises, and I banged on the floor again. I was going to wait for the cops to arrive, but after a couple of minutes I didn’t hear anything, and like I said, I went downstairs.”

Griffin said, “Better you waited a bit, Henry, or you might have been hurt. You didn’t see anyone? Hear anyone or anything other than the bumping sounds?”

Henry shook his head. “Nope, not a thing—well, I did hear a car engine when I was already on my way to check on Delsey, but that’s it. I was thinking about her.”

“Did you happen to glance out a window, see the car?”

“No, sir, I’m sorry, but I didn’t.”

“What did you do next?”

“Your front door wasn’t locked, Delsey, so I stuck my head in and called your name. When you didn’t answer, I went on in.”

Griffin asked, “Was anything out of place, Henry?”

Henry said to Delsey, “Yeah, that little Persian carpet you’re so proud of was all crumpled against the table you have for your mail.”

Like someone had dragged a body over it or was in a big hurry.

“I can’t remember anything else out of place. When I looked in your bathroom, there you were lying on the floor, on your side, your clothes in a pile beside you. You weren’t moving, and I thought you were dead at first. It scared the crap out of me, Delsey. It looked like you’d slipped and fallen, hit your head, maybe, because there was blood in your hair and on the floor. I didn’t see the blood in the bathtub until a paramedic pointed it out, said it was way too much to all be yours. I guess one of the paramedics called Sheriff Noble, because he came right away and asked me about it. He let me follow the ambulance to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me near you since I wasn’t family, so I finally went home.

“I did go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, not a wink, so I spent most of the night listening to Anton Rubinstein’s Cello Concerto in A Minor. You know, the piece I’m going to perform in February. What I really wanted was to actually practice it, but I know Mr. McGibbs would be pissed since it was the middle of the night—” Henry shrugged. “Mr. McGibbs lives a good fifty feet away from us but he still bitches if I play too late. I guess I finally fell asleep, since I didn’t wake up until about nine o’clock this morning. I called the hospital, but nobody would tell me anything, so I went to Maurie’s Diner for breakfast. Anna was there. Since she’s your best friend, I told her what happened. She was really upset. I saw her walk over to the restrooms and make a call on her cell phone. When she came back with my bacon and eggs, she spilled coffee on me.”

Who did she call?
Griffin wondered.

“Henry, did you tell someone I found my lover dead in the bathtub? Why ever did you say such a thing?”

Henry flushed, looked agonized, and popped his knuckles again. “Well, that blood the paramedics saw in the tub and what I heard meant someone else was there—and, well, I didn’t know who, Delsey, that’s all, I just said something about your maybe knowing him; it made it a little less scary, you know?”

Griffin let it go. “Is that all you remember, Henry?”

“Yes, sir.”

Griffin nearly laughed at all the “sirring,” since Henry Stoltzen looked to be a couple of years older than he was. He’d seen it before. It was the power of the FBI shield.

Griffin said, “Delsey, since I taught you well, I know you locked your front door when you left for Salazar’s party. Whoever was in your place jimmied open the back door.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t know. I must not have noticed when I went in. I still don’t remember anything.”

They heard Claus say, “Sir, you can’t go in there—”

Henry said, “Oh my, it’s Dr. Hayman.”

Griffin raised his hand. “It’s okay, Claus. Thank you.” He watched Dr. Elliot Hayman, director of Stanislaus, walk—no, stroll—into the room.

So this was Professor Salazar’s brother. Dr. Hayman was a bit taller than his twin, a bit leaner, and even more the fashion plate in a fur-lined suede jacket, perfectly pleated black slacks, white shirt, tie, and Italian loafers he’d obviously protected since they had a high shine and no sign of snow or mud. Apart from a certain Mediterranean look, there wasn’t much physical resemblance between them. There were no slashes of gray at Dr. Hayman’s temples. He looked younger than his brother, and, Griffin thought, he appeared more thoughtful. Dr. Hayman’s eyes rested on Griffin; his dark brows went up. He didn’t look through Griffin, as his brother had. He met his eyes and nodded. “So I’m told you are Delsey’s brother, Agent Griffin Hammersmith of the FBI?”

“Yes, I am.” He shook Dr. Hayman’s hand, a fine hand with long, thin fingers, like his brother’s. Griffin had to admit Dr. Hayman looked more a convincing aristocrat than his smooth lizard twin. He had more gravitas, had the look of the man in charge of his kingdom.

“I am glad to meet you, Agent Hammersmith. I have come because I was quite worried when I heard Delsey had been hurt. She is one of our finest students. No one could tell me what happened. Ah, here is Mr. Stoltzen. How are you today, Henry? How is the Rubinstein cello concerto coming along?”

Henry beamed. “I’ll be ready, sir.”

“Yes, of course you will.”

Henry darted Delsey a glance. “I, ah, I’ve got to go, Delsey, all right?”

She nodded, waited for Henry to leave, then said to Dr. Hayman, “Thank you for coming, sir.”

“Of course. You and your brother, you have different last names. Why is this?”

Delsey smiled up at him. “Freestone was my married name. Even though I’m no longer married, I liked the name because it sang to me, and so I kept it.” She left unspoken
even though it belonged to a real loser
. “How did you know Griffin is my brother?”

“Ah, your brother has already been around town, asking Rafael, and many of your well-wishers, about you. I heard he was here at the same time I learned of your injury.” He walked regally to Delsey’s bedside and took her hand. “My poor child, whatever has happened? Are you all right?”

With the way he’d recognized and treated Henry, the concern he was showing for Delsey, Griffin thought Dr. Hayman had all the charm and charisma his twin lacked.

“Could you please tell me what happened?”

Griffin gave him the general outline, but no more than he needed to know. “Dr. Hayman, I understand my sister had a bit too much to drink at your brother’s party last night. Something to do with your special margaritas?”

Dr. Hayman nodded toward Delsey. “If that had anything to do with what happened to you, I am very sorry.” He smiled down at her. “The party gave me an opportunity to speak to you, since there is so little opportunity at school. But then you quite disappeared and no one knew where you were. What happened?”

“I decided to go home, Dr. Hayman, and someone hit me on the head in my apartment.”

Dr. Hayman waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

Griffin said, “Sir, have you noticed anyone recently who didn’t seem to belong on campus? Someone you found not quite right?”

Dr. Hayman seemed to give this thought, stroking his chin with his beautiful long, thin fingers. “I’m sorry, but no. I am quite busy in my position, Agent Hammersmith. There is so much to do each day, so many students demanding my attention, not to mention the faculty and the board of directors. It sometimes seems a whirlwind, and I see so many people. It’s rare that I’m able to simply enjoy the company of a student as I did last night. But then you were gone, Delsey, simply gone, and I must say, I was a bit worried.” He gave her a warm smile.

“They tell me I will be fine, probably back to school in a couple of days. Please don’t worry about me. Thank you for coming to see me.”

“It is my responsibility to worry about my students,” he said, but gave Delsey a warmer smile than Griffin thought was necessary or appropriate. “Such a shock, someone in your apartment, striking you down. I certainly hope our law enforcement officers will get to the bottom of this quickly and put an end to it. We cannot have such things happening to our students; the board will not stand for it.” He added to Griffin, “I am glad you’re here to help them, Agent Hammersmith.”

Griffin nodded.

Dr. Hayman said to Delsey, “You will call me if there is anything you require? And you, Agent Hammersmith? If there is anything we can do to sort this all out, we are at your service.”

Griffin followed Dr. Hayman out of Delsey’s hospital room, impressed with how well he wore the mantle of director of Stanislaus, like a well-picked actor from central casting. Unlike his brother, Dr. Hayman was one to quiet troubled waters, not stir them up.

There was nothing Griffin liked better than to stir troubled waters. He said without preamble, “Why are you so interested in my sister, Dr. Hayman?”

Dr. Hayman said, “I am interested in all my students, Agent Hammersmith. Delsey reminds me of your incredible grandmother Aladonna Hammersmith. She was an immensely talented woman, both witty and charming. I can still remember her incomparable voice, her artistry. I consider it a privilege to mentor her granddaughter and perhaps change her mind about continuing in a commercial direction with her compositions. She should be developing her talent to create something lasting with her music.”

“Thank you for those nice words about my grandmother, Dr. Hayman. As for Delsey, she has never been at a loss about what direction to take her life. I met your brother this morning. Why is it you invited him here as a visiting professor?”

Dr. Hayman blinked, taken off guard for a moment, but clearly understanding why Griffin was asking. “Rafael is a fine musician, and, more important, he has the ability and the temperament to teach, which many talented musicians do not. He was more than qualified to join the Stanislaus faculty.” He looked back at Griffin as if daring him to express an opinion.

“I wish you a good day, Agent Hammersmith, and hope you will solve this nasty business. If you would be so kind as to keep me informed? And of Delsey’s progress as well.”

Griffin nodded. Dr. Hayman shook his hand again, and walked away.

When Griffin returned to Delsey’s room, she said, “I remember now. I remember seeing a dead man in my bathtub.”

BOOK: Bombshell (AN FBI THRILLER)
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