Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (21 page)

“That’s the girl.” Brooks sounded far too excited. “Our Special Victims Unit is handling it. On the surface, it looks like a rape attempt. Her car turned up in a chop shop in East LA. A couple local youth were bagged trying to use her credit card.”

“And?” CC wasn’t connecting the dots. “One anaphylactic shock, one mysterious virus, and a random act of violence. I’m not seeing a connection.”

“Don’t you? They were all connected to Fisher.”

“But not to each other.” CC tried to reason as a dull pain formed in her temple. “Only one of them is listed as a crime. I’m not getting why you called.”

“I guess I wasted your time. I just think we should be looking into this.”

“I’m willing to peek if you think there’s something worth looking at. I trust you. Hey, while I’ve got you on the phone, what can you tell me about a Fed named Val Brown? She’s a US Marshal.”

“Val?” CC noticed that his tone lightened.” Brown’s a good kid. Reminds me a little of you. Good instincts, smart, and generally plays by the rules. Retired from the navy, I think. Why?”

“She’s here, working a case that’s a little close to home.”

“If I was looking for someone, she’s who I would want on the case. She seems to have resources that we don’t.”

“Interesting.” CC didn’t know what to make of the information. She saw Judge Conrad’s bailiff waving for them. “I’ve got to get my butt into court. We’ll talk more about Fisher later. I’ve kind of got my hands full at the moment, but I promise to get back to you.”

*   *  *

The pretrial motions went quickly. One look at the video, and the judge quashed the defense’s motions. Despite her bet with Max, CC doubted that the defense would get the confession tossed. It probably didn’t help their cause when Judge Conrad referred to her as an exemplary officer. Less than half an hour later, CC handed Max a crisp twenty dollar bill. She enjoyed getting him back in the game. She missed the banter, the friendly wagers, and generally annoying one another. When cops partner together, it’s just like being married: there are days you can’t live without one another and then there are days when you just want to shoot each other.

“What did Brooks say about Brown?” Max asked.

“Basically, I should trust her.”

“You don’t?”

“I guess I do. I just don’t like the way this is going down. It isn’t her. It’s the situation. I thought I had seen the last of that bastard, and now here he is again. Or is he? I also don’t like that she’s been watching us. I really don’t like the way she looks at my kid sister.”

“You don’t like anyone looking at Stevie.”

“I practically raised her. Having some hotshot Fed ogling her like she’s a piece of candy bugs me. Having her father running

around scares the crap out of me. We don’t want to let Emma go trick-or-treating.”

“Hold on.” Max held up his hand, halting her in her tracks. He had that worried look he got at times the fatherly look of concern that usually led him to try to take complete control of the situation. If anyone but Max acted that way, CC would throttle them. Coming from Max, it was like dealing with a parent.

“With Bert on the loose, it isn’t safe.”

“What isn’t safe?” Mulligan asked as she approached them.

“The world in general,” CC said with a grunt. “What was Krassowski doing here?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Leigh sighed. “Since he’s my partner, he’s taking credit for the bust.”

“He hasn’t done any work on this case.”

“Work?” Max said. “He hasn’t done anything.”

“I know.” Leigh threw up her hands, obviously just as displeased as CC and Max. “When the first report was filed, he told me to forget about it because Annie probably got a taste of life in America and is off with some boy having a great time.”

“Good thing you didn’t listen.”

“Now you understand why I’m looking to branch out.”

“I can’t say that I blame you.”

All through the hearing CC kept thinking about Brooks’ phone call. As much as she would love tacking more charges onto little Simon, she just didn’t see a connection. “Max, what do you say we head back to the station and try to get some real police work done?”

“What about Halloween?”

“What about it?”

“Emma?”

“It’s too dangerous. It’s going to break her heart. She’s got her costume all ready. Our new neighborhood seems much more into the holidays than our last. I’m dumping it on Stevie to tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Leigh asked.

“With Beaumont on the loose, we’ve decided not to let my niece go out trick-or-treating. We thought about letting her dad, Brad, take her out, but Halloween is a big night for drag queens. Even if he could, I still don’t feel like it would be safe. If Bert knows about Emma, he could know about Brad.”

“How about I go with you?” Max said. “Between the two of us, we should be able to keep Stevie and Emma safe.”

“I can join you,” Leigh said.

“See, a police escort.” Max beamed.

CC almost laughed at how eager Max seemed. “Thanks, guys. I’ll run it by Stevie and see what she thinks. Now enough stalling. Let’s get back to the station. Krassowski is heading this way, and I don’t want to listen to him brag about how he solved our case.”

Chapter 24

Jamie stood at the nurses’ station reviewing charts, while listening to the latest gossip. Deep in her heart, she knew gossiping was wrong, but sometimes, she just couldn’t resist. Stella and Evaline were in full swing. The main topic of conversation was, of course, which of the new residents were sleeping with each other.

“Nothing to add, Dr. Jameson?”

“I don’t like gossip.”

“Of course not. That’s why you’re always hanging around when our tongues start wagging.”

“Coincidence.”

“Of course,” Stella said. “What is little Emma wearing for Halloween this year?”

“Uh…” Jamie hesitated, still not happy that Emma might miss the festivities this year. She also wasn’t eager to reveal that Emma might not be able to go. The disclosure would require an explanation.

“CC thinks she’s going as Wonder Woman.”

“She thinks that every year.”

“I know.” Jamie laughed, completely understanding her wife’s love for Wonder Woman. Yet she was clueless to what today’s seven-year-old might find fun. “Emma’s going as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Her father’s very excited.” Jamie would be, as well, if Emma might actually get to wear her costume.

Jamie was completely unaware that Bert Beaumont was wandering around the waiting room. He was there for one reason: he had received a text message telling him to do so. He tried to blend in. The sight of a young girl sitting off to the side playing with her Barbie doll made him nervous. He felt the stirrings beginning. He didn’t want to stay, but the message said he had to. He was to stay there until someone noticed him. If anyone approached him, he was to say something to explain why he was there and make his exit quickly and quietly.

He took a seat in the moderately busy waiting room. The television was tuned to some inane talk show. He tried not to watch the little redheaded girl. He tried thinking about his new hotel. It was modest but not a flea trap. No room service, which meant he had to venture out. Even on the outskirts of a city, it was easy to get lost. Thoughts of ignoring his benefactor’s instructions played in his mind. The girl’s laughter distracted him and led his mind to a twisted place.
Busy hospital, it would be so easy
. He pushed down the urge. An amber alert was the last thing he needed. The last few text messages had promised that soon he’d be free. He could run far away and start over again. Maybe a new city and new name would give him the strength not to give in to the urges.

Unconsciously, he leaned a little so he could listen to the girl’s chatter.
They always say something that helps you get close
, he silently reminded himself.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Molly, come play over here!” A hostile voice broke in.

He gulped when he spied the angry-looking mother beckoning her child. Little Molly bounced over and took her place beside her.

“She reminds me of my niece,” he said. Fear gripped his heart when he caught the disbelieving look in the young mother’s eyes. Deciding he had been there long enough, he stood to leave.

“Sir?” A tall, older, dark-skinned man blocked his path. Bert’s pulse quickened. The man was hospital security. “Can I ask who you’re waiting for? Have you been to triage.”

“Oh, not me.” Bert fought to stay in control. “My niece, Mary. My brother and his wife are in with her now. Fell out of a tree,” he added with a half-hearted smile. “I was looking for a place to smoke. Could you tell me where I might be able to grab a quick one?”

“The designated smoking area is located out the front entrance and up the walkway. You can’t miss it. It’s the glass enclosure with all the smoke pouring out of it.”

“Thank you.” Bert smiled and attempted to make his way around the man.

“Why don’t I walk you over?”

“Huh?” Bert choked, unable to believe that his cover had been blown so quickly. He knew he was out of practice, but to get busted by a rent-a-cop in less than half an hour was ridiculous. “Thanks.” He tried his best to look blasé. He figured he’d let this bozo walk him there, he’d even bum a smoke, and that would be the end of it. The Red Line stop was just a few feet away. He could be on the subway before anyone was the wiser. Much to Bert’s relief, the man nodded and guided him towards the entrance.

“What was your niece’s last name?” the security guard asked, stopping Bert in his tracks.

“What?”

“I’ll have one of my men check on her condition.” The man offered a toothy grin while holding up his two-way radio. “That way you’ll know how much time you’ll have.”

“Shelley,” Bert said before he could think better of it.

“Tom, this is Terrell. I have a four seven six. Could you check on a patient named Shelley, Mary Shelley? That’s right, Mary Shelley.” Terrell smiled. “I’ll be with her uncle at the smoking area on the north side.”

“You smoke?” Bert made an attempt at sounding casual.

“Cigars. Can’t let the wife know.”

“Tell me about it. If mine finds out I’ve been smoking, I’m in the doghouse.”

Bert felt uncomfortable by how closely Terrell was walking alongside of him. He turned to head towards where he knew the smoking area was located. He had passed by it when he first arrived. He had mentally noted that it could be used as an excuse to make a hasty exit. Terrell seemed to be guiding him away from the smoking area. Bert knew he was in trouble. If he pointed out that they were heading in the wrong direction, his cover would be blown. If he kept following this seemingly innocent man, he more than likely would be walking into a trap.

His heart sank when he spied two state trooper cars pulling over to his left. Knowing he was in deep, he abruptly turned and sucker punched Terrell, sending the older man crashing to the ground. Bert huffed and puffed as he made a mad dash to the subway stop just across the street. His heart pounded as he darted out into oncoming traffic. He didn’t stop or risk looking back; he just bolted into the station. Crashing into a woman with a stroller who was exiting, he took advantage of the open gate and raced inside and up the staircase.

Bert didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. He let his fear-fueled adrenaline rush guide him. His lungs felt as if they would seize as he kept running. Not only were the police chasing him, but now the transit cops were hot on his trail for fare evasion. He just kept going, dodging in and out of the crowd, until he managed to slip down another stairwell and back outside. He just kept running, even though there was a small voice whispering for him to just stop and get off the merry-go-round. His life would be much less exciting if he simply let them take him back to Connecticut.

Instead of listening to the tiny voice of reason that was telling him he was being an idiot, he kept running all the way down Charles Street. Rush hour was in full swing. Bert simply slipped into the crowd and got lost. Once he had crossed Beacon Street, he knew the quickest way back would be to jump on the Green Line. He wasn’t up for being caught on camera and running another marathon. Instead, he grabbed a tacky sweatshirt from a street vendor. The guy tried to barter with him. Bert didn’t have time to waste, so he tossed the babbling man a twenty and slipped on the navy blue sweatshirt with the name of the city embroidered across the front.

Bert decided it was a good day to walk back to the hotel. The walk would take a good while, but he figured it was better than jail. While on his trek back, he received another text. He wanted to smash the phone against the sidewalk when he read the words. “Sit tight and wait for further instructions.”

Bert felt sick. He knew not to try to contact his mysterious benefactor. The consequences for doing so had already been explained to him.

Chapter 25

Across the city, Val was on her way to Boylston General Hospital, cursing everyone and everything in sight. Mills had the unfortunate position of being trapped in the car with the irate deputy.

“Are you guys a bunch of cluster fucks or what?”

“Keep it up, and I’ll shoot you,” Mills said in a slow, direct tone. “I’ve called Calloway.”

“What? No.” Val careened the SUV around the narrow streets of the city.

“This turns into a one way,” Mills told her. “Heading the opposite way.” Val just growled under her breath.

She released a stream of curses when she tried to find a way out of the maze of streets that made the city of Boston a truly unique driving experience.

“You could have let me drive,” Mills said. “I could have told you that GPS wasn’t going to get you around this city.”

“Why did you call her?”

“Satan shows up at her wife’s job, and you don’t think she’s going to find out? I thought you were all for keeping CC in the loop.” The statement was innocent, still Val didn’t miss the hint of suspicion in the older woman’s voice.