Girl Undercover 6 & 7: Emma's Secret & The Truth (11 page)

Shit,
I thought when I finally felt certain what I had initially read was in fact real.
“Strong reasons to suspect,”
he’d written. My captain wasn’t a man with a penchant to exaggerate, which meant this must be something to be taken seriously. Very seriously. At least part of me should be happy about this development, but all I felt was despair. Realizing this made me disgusted with myself.

Gabi, what does it matter who catches Nick’s killers? This isn’t about you, never was, never will be. The only thing you should care about is that this case is solved and that your husband’s murderers are brought to justice, for God’s sake!

But reaming myself out in my head didn’t make a difference; the thought of Nick’s killers having been in Los Angeles this entire time while I had been in NYC for months, looking for them, still made me miserable.
I ran my palms over my face.

Oh, God, why can’t I be happy at all?

This had become much too personal. If it turned out that these two suspects were in fact Nick’s killers, I needed to see a shrink and find out when I had become this narcissist. Hell, even if they didn’t turn out to be his killers, I should see a shrink. I didn’t want this to be about me first and foremost; feeling this way could only mean that. I should be able to accept the fact that I had been wrong in thinking that the answer could be found only in New York.

Well, maybe I would feel differently later,
I thought. After Brady had done the cross and I had learned what these two suspects were all about. Yes, surely I would. I couldn’t be this selfish.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and checked the time. It wasn’t even seven thirty yet, meaning it was three hours earlier in California, barely four thirty. Brady had always been an early riser, but this was unusual even for someone like him. He must be excited about the cross, I mused glumly, instantly annoyed with myself again. I shook my head, huffing. Maybe a shower would sweeten me up, wash the childishness off me once and for all. I could only hope.

I was feeling a little better when I walked into Nikkei an hour later, about to train my first client of the day, a female college graduate who’d recently signed up for twenty sessions. My young client had already arrived, so we started a couple minutes early. After her, I had three more clients back-to-back, and then it was time for my floor shift. I only had one of those left now, having picked up so many clients so quickly. Rolf and the company were very pleased with me.

I would go have some lunch, then use some of my time on the floors to look for Emma. Hopefully, she was back working today. I had yet to spot her somewhere.

Four hours later my floor shift was over and I had still not seen Emma anywhere. After clocking out, I headed for Rolf’s office. Opening his door, I stuck my head inside his small space.

“Hey, Rolf, is Emma still out sick?”

He looked up from the documents he was scribbling something on. “Yes, I think so.”

His head went back down to the papers in his hand, so I left, a little confused.

It wasn’t like Rolf to be so curt. Plus, what kind of answer was “
Yes, I think so.”
? The only thing that had been clear to me was that my boss had not wanted to discuss Emma’s condition any further. If I wanted to know how she was doing, I would have to call her to find out for myself.

Walking downstairs to the cafeteria, I dialed Emma’s number. Ring after ring went through in my ear, finally ending with Emma’s sweet voice, asking the caller to leave a message.

“Hey, Emma, it’s Jamie. I’m just calling to see how you’re doing. Didn’t see you at the club today. Are you okay? Please call me so I can find out.”

I checked the time. It was a little before five. My next client wasn’t until six, so I had some time to kill. I should use it to check on Emma. She didn’t live that far from the club, only a couple of subway stations away. I didn’t think I would be able to relax until I knew that she was okay.

Hurrying out of the club, I headed for her apartment building, dashing down into the nearby subway station. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long before a train roared up to the platform. I pushed myself in between all the people filling up the cars. There was a bad feeling growing inside me, getting bigger and more potent with every second that passed, and I wished the train would move faster. The sooner I could make sure that Emma was okay, the better. She had to be okay.

Ten minutes later, sweaty and breathing hard, I was inside her apartment building, having buzzed several people living there until someone finally let me in. Emma had not opened when I’d pressed her button, which only served to intensify the bad feeling that kept expanding within me.

I ran up the stairs to her apartment and knocked on her door, over and over. No one came to open. I felt the door knob; today it was locked of course. I found my phone in my purse and dialed Ian; he’d texted me a few times today, but I had been too preoccupied to reply to any of them. He picked up on the second ring.

“There you are,” he said, his voice light. “I was beginning to wonder if you were mad at me or something.”

Throwing a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure I was alone, I whispered, “I need you to come to where I am right now and bring the bump keys.”

“Where are you?” he asked, every ounce of playfulness gone.

I gave him Emma’s address. “When can you be here?”

“Give me twenty minutes. I’m at home and it’s rush hour right now. But I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

We disconnected and I kept knocking on Emma’s door, hoping that she was just asleep and that, finally, my knocking would wake her up. But all that happened was that one of her neighbors came out and told me to be quiet. Fortunately, that was all the neighbor wanted; apparently, it was okay if I, a complete stranger, remained in the building as long as I didn’t make any noise.

Another hallmark of New Yorkers; most of them had seen and heard it all. As long as you didn’t bother them, you were left to do whatever you wanted.

I went downstairs to wait for Ian to arrive so I could let him inside the building. Fifteen minutes later, he appeared.

“Hey,” he said as I let him inside. “What’s going on?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.”

Together we climbed the stairs to Emma’s apartment. I walked up to her front door. “I need to get inside this apartment. Talk to the girl who lives here. She’s sick.”

To my surprise and relief, Ian got to work immediately, not asking a single question. A minute later, Emma’s door opened and we walked inside the dark apartment. I rushed to her bedroom, hoping to find her passed out in bed.

When I didn’t see her lying there, the knot in my stomach tightened, getting even worse when I heard Ian calling me from the hallway, his voice tense.

“Gab, I think you should come back here.”

KEEP READING. PART SEVEN IS COMING RIGHT UP. BELOW IS A DESCRIPTION SO YOU KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT:

Gabi is devastated when she finds out what happened to Emma and the secrets she has been carrying. Unfortunately, things only get worse in the next days. All of a sudden, the stakes become so high that finding Nick’s killers is no longer a priority.

GIRL UNDERCOVER

Part Seven—The Truth

Julia Derek

Published by Adrenaline Books

Copyright © 2015 by Julia Derek

This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Published as an e-book June 2015 by Adrenaline Books.

To find out more about the author and to sign up for her new books release, visit
JuliaDerek.com

Cover design by Luly Blazek at
Kalosys Art.

Chapter 1

Feeling like I was about to throw up any second, I swiveled around and hurried back to Ian. He was nowhere to be seen in the small hallway, but the light in the adjacent bathroom was on, the door to it open. I ran over there and gasped loudly when I saw Ian standing next to a bathtub overflowing with dark pink water and a lifeless Emma lying in it.

Ian switched off the bathtub faucet from which water had been flowing. As I walked closer and peered into the bathtub, I saw that she was naked and that her wrists were slit. Her arms were crossed under her big chest, as though she was supporting the weight of them.

“Oh, God,” I mumbled, sinking to my knees and finding the carotid pulse in her neck with two fingers, praying we hadn’t come too late even though it sure looked like it. There was no sign of life in Emma. I kept trying and trying to get a pulse, but it was no use. The amount of blood in the water alone should tell me little blood remained in her body now. She must have been dead for hours already.

I turned to Ian, still asking because I didn’t want to believe it. “Is it too late?”

There was a somber look on his face. “Yes, I would say so. Much too late. This woman is dead.”

My gaze went to Emma’s face, which was so white it had a light bluish tint to it. Her eyes were staring emptily up at the ceiling, her pale lips half open. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noted the sharp knife on the bathroom floor, which was made up of several black, gray and white little tiles. As I took a closer look at the knife, I saw that the blade was covered in blood.

Oh, God, Emma what did you do? Why? Why didn’t you call me to talk some more?

My heart ached for her, for having despaired to such a degree that she must have felt no other choice but to take her own life. Then guilt set in, guilt for not having stayed last night, having failed to see just how depressed Emma had really been. I should have been able to sense what she’d had on her mind. She must have decided this was her only option when I had dismissed her claims that Janine would destroy her so easily.

Oh, God, why didn’t I stay? I could have saved her…

A look of concern came over Ian’s features. “Gabi, are you okay?” Making me stand up, he pulled me close to him.

“Not really,” I whispered. “I could have prevented this from having happened.”

He embraced me then and I let him, snuggling up against his chest. I was feeling so, so low.

“Why do you say that?” he asked softly, stroking my hair. “Who is this woman? I can tell you know her. I must say she does look quite familiar. Should I know who she is?”

“She is—was one of the trainers at Nikkei,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

“Ah, yes, now I do recognize her. Did you know her well?”

“Um, it’s complicated…” I froze as something suddenly struck me.

What if this isn’t a suicide? What if someone has murdered Emma and just made it seem like she killed herself?

I pushed myself away from Ian’s chest and took one more look at Emma’s lifeless body, checking for signs of anything that would suggest that it wasn’t a suicide. My eyes traveled up and down her heavy body, and then to the knife on the floor. I sank down to my knees again to get a closer look of the way she’d slit her wrists. Both of them were slit diagonally several times. Was that the way you’d do it if you did it to yourself? Why so many times? Would you have the energy, not to mention the will to inflict yourself with all the pain all those cuts must have given you? I had no idea. In my years as a cop, this was the first time I had found someone who had used this method to commit suicide.

I ripped off a big chunk of toilet paper from the roll attached to the wall next to the toilet, and then fished up one of her arms from the water.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked as I kept checking the wounds on her wrists, making sure I wasn’t actually touching her skin with my hands. “Do you think someone else might have done this to her?”

I let go of Emma’s limp hand and gazed up at him. He’d read my mind.

“Yes, that was exactly what I was thinking,” I confirmed. “What do you think?” I got to my feet again.

“I suppose it’s possible, but I can’t tell just by looking at her right now. Do you know anything about her mental state?”

I sighed heavily. “Yeah, I do. And it wasn’t good. She was very, very upset yesterday when I spoke to her. I came over to her place to try to calm her down. She had a miscarriage earlier in the morning. She was thirteen or maybe fourteen weeks pregnant.”

“How long did you stay?”

“With her? Maybe an hour.” Darkness settled in as a renewed wave of guilt swept over me. “I didn’t realize she was so incredibly depressed that she was considering suicide… I thought she was just hysterical after having lost the baby. After we had spoken for some time, she seemed much calmer, much better. She agreed she needed to sleep. I thought she’d feel better if she got some rest, so that’s why I left. But I should’ve stayed.”

I gazed down at the many small tiles on the floor, for the first time discovering how much water was there. It seeped all the way into the narrow hallway outside. Looking at Ian, I asked, “How did you know she was in here?”

“I slipped on the wet floor outside, so I pushed the bathroom door open to see if the water had come from there. And there she was.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t beat yourself up so much, Gabi. If she had her mind set on killing herself, there would have been nothing you could do. Unless she told you what she had on her mind. Did she?”