Chemical Attraction (23 page)

He groaned and hit his forehead on the table. After the third head bang, he looked at her. “I need to focus on this case and you are not helping. She’d just think it’s another line anyway.”

“Then finish this. It’s time to nail these bastards. They’re pissing me off,” she replied, opening the refrigerator door. Joe should have been happy; his plan to distract her had worked. She could always see right through him.

Dr. Ellis came out of the Sheriff’s department. “Sorry, Chief Connor, your guy’s dead. Killed himself.”

“What?” he asked, standing by the door.

“Sheriff Benton’s inside,” Ellis replied, walking away.

Silently, the sheriff and four deputies stood around the small cell. He immediately saw the bloody head of his wife’s kidnapper. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Matt, calm down,” the sheriff replied. “The guy’s dead. It’s actually good news. There won’t be a trial to put Eva through.”

“Good news? I wanted answers. Now, I want them from you.”

“Come into my office.”

With a tight fist, he followed. “Your explanation, please.” He clenched his jaw and folded his arms.

“I have none. We certainly didn’t think he’d pound his head against the bars.”

“I want to know what’s going on around here.” He slapped the boys’ discharge paper on his desk as the sheriff sat down. “What are you hiding, Sheriff?” he yelled, not caring who heard.

Standing, Benton yelled back. “What are you implying?”

“You know exactly what I’m implying. I guess the rumor is true that someone’s got you on a tight leash.” Not waiting for a reply, he left, slamming the door and cracking its glass window. After plowing out the main door, he left his cruiser and walked down the hill to his station. Instead of lessening his anger, it increased with each step. He entered his own building. Ignoring the chaos, he marched into his office and slammed that door, too.

During the research update presentations, CEO Bill Bennett reamed each of the first four presenters. He lost his temper and the women left in tears. He wanted results and didn’t think they had worked hard enough to get them.

Sydney leaned over to Madeline. “What’s eating him? None of the board members look happy, and Alan’s got his eyes shut. It looks like he’s dozing from boredom.”

“Really,” she whispered back, “I can’t see anything from back here.” She moved her head from side to side between other researchers for a better view.

“People, you know about this meeting months in advance. Why is everyone so ill prepared? Forget about the number order. Is anyone actually ready?” Bill demanded.

Bill’s voice thundered through the conference room. He certainly didn’t need a microphone. Leaving her notes on her chair, Madeline walked to the podium in front of the firing squad. She’d had enough of their condescending tone. She had other things to worry about.

“Dr. Pierce, where are your notes? Sit back down, you’re obviously not prepared either.”

“Excuse me, Bill, but I am,” she started, too angry to be nervous. “For the record, I am offended by your comment that your researchers are not prepared to answer your questions.”

Alan Shaw sat up. “Explain yourself, Dr. Pierce.”

Annoyed by his interruption, she continued. “You, the board, the administration, and the stockholders want profitable results. Every day your researchers learn and process new data in their various projects. Gentlemen, it takes time to analyze the results. How this will best profit the company is not our concern. We are here to develop new drugs and delivery systems. Once the results are in, management and finance determine the route in which our information should be used.

“Yes, these are facts you already know. My point is, let us do our job. Berating newer researchers doesn’t help.” The panel fumed. “With that said, my typed report is in front of each panel member. It outlines in detail the next step with animal testing. Gentlemen, Bennett Technology does powerful work bringing new drugs and innovative designs to the medical world. There is no other place I’d rather be. Thank you, and if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.”

As she finished her tirade that would probably get her severely disciplined, she looked closer at the men and their reactions to her rant. She grasped the podium in fear. Seven men wore black suits with red ties. Sydney passed her research notes to her as she hurried by. She practically ran to her office, where she quickly called Joe.

“Come and get me. I need to get out of here,” she said on his voicemail. Her abdomen cramped. Sitting at her desk, she wrote down the names of the seven men. Frustrated, she threw the pen at the door just as Jessica walked in.

“Whoa, what did you do? You missed your applause from the other researchers. Are you sure you want to work here? The board canceled the rest of the meeting because of the disruption.”

“I’m an idiot.” She shoved the paper into her purse. “I need some air. I’m leaving for lunch.”

“It’s only eleven-thirty. But I’d hide, too. If anyone stops in, I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

“Hey, I’m protecting my job, too.”

Using her cell, she tried Joe again and left another voicemail. As she started walking through the parking lot, Roger pulled up next to her. “Need a ride, Dr. Pierce?”

“Yeah, can you drop me off at the riverfront?”

“You bet,” he said, moving his security badge and gun from the passenger seat.

Benton seethed as Matt left his office. He grabbed the sheet of paper and saw a signature that wasn’t his. “Son of a bitch.” He slowly sat in his chair. As he picked up the phone, he heard a knock on his door. “What?” he yelled.

Deputy Lawson stepped inside with a folder. “Sir, we tracked down that emu guy through his dental records.”

“Yeah, who is he?”

“His name is John Bokan.”

“Son of a bitch, give me that.” Lawson handed the folder to him and hurried out the door, shutting it too hard. The glass shattered. Benton stormed into the outer room with the paper in his hand. “Get this god damn place cleaned up!”

On the phone in his office, Matt heard the sheriff barrel into the City Police Station. He knew Benton would show up eventually. It gave Matt time to cool down, so he could think straight. The bastard was up to something.

“Where’s Chief Connor?” the sheriff demanded.

Bobby watched helplessly. “Uh, he’s in his office.”

The sheriff didn’t knock, but he did slam the door, jarring the immediate area. “Just who in the hell do you think you are to come into my department and accuse me of being on the take?”

Matt calmly hung up his phone. “I am a husband, whose wife was snatched from his own home and beaten. I am a father, whose son heroically saved his mother from being raped and killed. I am a man, who puts his family in danger because of his job.”

As the words sank in, the sheriff wedged himself into the chair and sighed. “I am sorry, Matt. I have information that may help you.”

Matt leaned back in his chair and waited.

“We identified the emu guy. His name is John Bokan.”

“How does that help me?” he asked, folding his arms.

“He called me two months ago. He told me this farfetched tale about some new drug to manipulate the brain. He jabbered about the higher incidence of meth in the area, and Larry’s name came up in the process as a dealer.”

He leaned forward. “I’m listening.”

“I didn’t understand any of it. I tried to get him to explain, but he said he was leaving town. Out of curiosity, I called Bill Bennett. He and I play in the same golf league.”

“What did he say?”

“He laughed about this supposed research and said John needed a relaxing vacation away from the stress. I didn’t think anything else about it until his name came up.” He flung the boys’ discharge paper across the desk as he stood. “That is not my signature. I’ll get an APB out on them.” He quietly shut the door behind him.

Driving down Main Street toward home, Matt wanted to talk with Joe and check on his wife. He glanced at the open door to Madeline’s apartment and sensed that something was wrong immediately. He stopped in front of the next building. Not wanting to draw attention, he walked casually to the open door. Hearing nothing, he pulled out his gun and crept slowly up the stairs.

Halfway, he saw that both apartment doors had been splintered open. After a few more steps, he groaned. A woman slumped on the landing between the doorways. A bullet through her cheek disfigured her face hiding her identity. Another bloody wound soaked the front of her tank top.

“Shit.”

With his gun in his hand, he kept an eye on the apartments and leaned down to check her wrist for a pulse. Dead. He quickly checked inside the apartments. Empty. Back in the hallway, he looked closer at the woman, who had long, brown hair and a slender athletic figure. God, it looked like Madeline. No. This couldn’t be her. She was working. She had an all-day meeting. She’d be with Joe. As he tried to remember who lived across from Madeline’s apartment, he flipped open his cell.

Having spent the last few hours on the phone, Joe rubbed his ear. He passed the entire list of addresses on to his supervisor, who would then distribute the information to all the area agents. Those agents with the help of the local LEOs would watch and document activities only. Nobody would do anything until he had more proof as to BennTech’s direct association.

His cell beeped with messages. Stretching his legs, he played the first one. Madeline had called at eleven twenty-five and sounded worried. Looking at the stove’s clock, he swore; that was two hours ago. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, he listened to the second message and slipped on his shoes.

“Joe, I can’t stay here anymore. I’m walking to my apartment. Meet me there.”

“Shit,” he said, hanging up. He quickly dialed her cell and walked down the hallway to Eva’s bedroom. She had taken a nap after breakfast while he took over the table, laying out all his notes. Not leaving a message, he knocked on the door. “Evie, we gotta go.”

“What?” she mumbled.

“Madeline walked back to her apartment on her own. Something’s wrong.”

The six-block drive seemed to take forever. He fumbled with his cell but still answered after the first ring. “Joe, where are you?” Matt asked.

“I just parked behind your cruiser. Madeline’s upstairs. Why?” He gripped the steering wheel.

“She’s been shot.”

He ran up the stairs and slowed as he approached Matt standing over her body. “Oh God.” The pain in his stomach made him want to vomit.

“I had hoped it wasn’t her,” Matt whispered.

“This is my fault. I failed her,” he muttered. She had changed into a tank top, a mini-skirt, and wedge-heeled sandals. Blood stained her face and hair. He knelt beside her body and reached for her hand.

Matt put a hand on his shoulder. “Joe,” he said gently. “You can’t touch her until we process the area.”

Looking at her shattered door, he punched his leg hard and stood. “I won’t touch a damn thing.”

“I need to call this in. I’ll be right back. I’m sorry, Joe.”

His limited memories of Madeline rushed at him. He had opened his heart. Now, it ached with such regret and grief. She had asked for his help and he let her down. What had he done? His mind reeled; he had just become his father. He felt an invisible twist of a knife in his chest. He’d sworn that would never happen. He fell in love with this woman and now she was gone.

As he stood in the middle of her loft, he tried to focus and make sense of the scene. He spotted her favorite sandals near the three-inch gap in the window. He snapped around for a closer look at the body. His heart leapt. Madeline would never wear wedge-heeled sandals. She loved her comfortable leather ones. She only wore high-heels at work. The dead woman had to be her neighbor from the other apartment.

Then, where’s Madeline? Did she leave through the window, or did someone take her? Groaning at the thought, he pushed the window up to get a better look at the fire escape and the riverfront. There weren’t many places below to hide. Joe slid out the window, jumped to the landing, and climbed to the roof.

“Please, baby, be hiding up here,” he mumbled.

As a reflex, he held his gun as he searched. An ancient heating and cooling system blocked the full view. Slowly, he crunched across the loose gravel to the other side of the huge mound of rusted metal. He took a deep breath and held it. She wasn’t here. He dropped to his knees. He thought for sure she’d be here. He might never see her again. Still on his knees, he hit his head with the butt of his gun, but it didn’t numb the pain in his chest. After a few minutes, he walked back to the fire escape.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement by the next building’s coolant system. He jumped across the three-foot gap as someone ran toward the far building. He saw Madeline barefoot in a tank and shorts, ready to hurdle the eight-foot space to the next roof.

“Madeline, stop!” Turning, she tripped and fell toward the side. She grabbed onto the ledge with both arms. A leg and hip draped over the edge. He ran full speed. “Baby, hang on.” He helped her swing her leg back onto the roof. “I’m here. I got you.”

“Joe, I can’t make myself let go,” she whispered.