Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2) (11 page)

Windy

I’m exhausted and, from the way my boss keeps studying me from his desk, it shows.

“I have a proposition for you, Miss Fairchild.”

“Well, why don’t we start with you calling me Windy?”

“Very well…Windy.” He answers as if trying my name on for size. His tone is a mellow rumble and my name sounds good on his lips. I’m certain my boss has no problem with the ladies. His natural elegance and the inherently dark nature that lurks just below his professional facade are strangely alluring. I wonder if that’s what drew a serial killer to become obsessed with him. Even more so, I wonder why he is drawn to her. Does he harbor some dark secret within that she can read? Maybe that’s her allure; her ability to read an otherwise unreadable man.

“As I was saying,” he continues with a mocking smirk, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “I noticed you bring your laptop with you when you come to work. I see no reason why you can’t do some schoolwork while you’re here. Your job is a form of internship that counts toward your degree, all the more reason for you to intertwine the two. I may even be able to help you with your studies. Go ahead and boot up your laptop and sign in, you can get some classwork done before the day starts in earnest. And by all means after you do that, please go to the cafeteria and get yourself a strong cup of coffee. You look like you need it.”

“That bad?”

“I don’t think you could do anything to look bad. Now hurry and do as I say.”

I don’t argue with him, taking my laptop out of my briefcase and setting it up on the large desk where there’s more than enough room to comfortably accommodate it. I hesitate for a moment and think perhaps I should wait until I return from the cafeteria to log in.

“With our sketchy Wi-Fi connection, it may take a moment or two for your login to work; better that you go get that coffee while you wait,” Dr. Brinkley says as he turns away to resume checking his emails. I type in my username and password and make my way to the door while the hourglass icon spins on my monitor screen. Whether my boss realizes it or not, he just alleviated the biggest problem I have at this point in my life: lack of time. Lately there haven’t been enough hours in a day to juggle all the responsibilities I have, especially with Thorn’s presence at home proving to be an unexpected distraction. Combining my job and school will give me a much needed reprieve from all the bright, shiny, new crazy in my life.

“Okay, I’ll be back before you know it,” I say as I head for the door. “Can I get you some coffee?”

“Please do so, Miss Fairchild.” He eyes me with the steady gaze I’ve become accustomed to and corrects himself before I have the chance to. “Windy, yes, I would love some coffee.”

Dr. Brinkley

I reach into my pocket for the flash drive I keep there and begin the task of downloading the contents of my assistant’s laptop. I’ve made certain the stick has more than enough space to retrieve every detail and document there is on her computer. Because the computer she uses here is programmed to allow only work-related tasks, so I’ve opted to go for her personal one instead. If allowing her to do her schoolwork during working hours enables me to get closer to her then so be it.

If you want to know someone’s deepest darkest secrets then get your hands on their computer, and if you can’t do that then go for their phone. Yes, my assistant intrigues me – not in the same way as Georgia, but still... There’s something about Miss Fairchild’s innocence and inaccessibility that makes me want to taint her. A man such as myself can find just as much pleasure toying around with a woman’s head as he can toying around with her body in her bed.

I have no shortage of women who throw themselves at me to use for my sexual pleasure but that’s not what I want with the lovely Miss Fairchild. What I do want is to get inside her head and find out why this young woman who grew up in wealth and privilege wants to play in the sandbox with serial killers—talk about polar opposites. Is her interest purely clinical or does she harbor an inner darkness that calls to me?

The same way she needs to uncover the inner thoughts of the criminally insane, I need to uncover her intentions. I’m still not convinced that boyfriend of hers hasn’t sent her here as a spy. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has questioned why I insist on keeping Georgia under my supervision. I quit trying to figure out Georgia’s hold on me long ago; just restraining it is a full-time job—and it’s all I can do to keep it at bay.

The only thing standing in the way of my getting into Miss Fairchild’s head is that overgrown buffoon of a boyfriend of hers who for some reason has it in his head that he must protect her from the
big bad wolf
. Little does he know how right he is; he has every reason to be worried because, given the chance, I’m going to mentally dissect the object of his obsession. Digging around in the dark recesses of the human mind can unleash a torrent of toxic emotions. I’m going to use whatever means necessary to get rid of him, and I do mean any means necessary. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to go to extremes to get rid of an inconvenience. I find that I’m quite adept at manipulating circumstances to my benefit. After all, what fun is it to have the knowledge I have acquired if I can’t use it to mind fuck the victims of my choice?

Windy

My fatigue quickly turns to anxiety when I view a female patient headed in my direction. Every patient is different and when dealing with mental illness you never know if they could present a danger or not. Certainly she isn’t a threat or she wouldn’t be walking the halls unaccompanied. Only those who are no danger to themselves or others are permitted to do so.

“He’s, he’s d-dangerous, you know.” Her voice comes out in a fearful stutter.

“Who’s dangerous, sweetie?”

“That man you work for. He, he, likes that woman who enjoys hurting people. In the basement, that’s where she does it—he lets her do it in the basement.”

“Terry,” a middle-aged, female aide calls out, approaching the patient with brisk steps. Her I.D. badge gives her name as Mrs. Bigalow. “I’m so sorry, she wandered out of the common room during craft time.” Taking Terry by the elbow, Mrs. Bigalow says, “Tell the nice lady goodbye.”

“’Bye,” Terry says dully as she looks over her shoulder at me. The employee escorts her back to the room where the other patients are. Terry has no idea she’s planted the seed of suspicion in my mind about the enigmatic man I work for. It only adds to the trepidation I already feel. Day after day, I remind myself that he has to have a bit of an edgy personality and a thick skin to run a psychiatric facility; nonetheless, there’s something about him that troubles me.

I can still feel the chills going up my spine from what the patient said. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t already have my own misgivings about the man I work for. There’s no denying there’s more to my mysterious boss than meets the eye. I push the foreboding thoughts from my mind and make my way through the line and down to the checkout.

“You’re Dr. Brinkley’s new assistant aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Boy, I know a lot of women who would love to be in your position,” she says with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively before her expression suddenly turns serious. “It must quite an adventure working with him.”

I take a moment to study the cashier’s face. “How so?”

“I mean…” she draws the words out for emphasis, “he works with some of the most prolific serial killers in the nation.” She leans in dramatically to whisper her next words. “Isn’t it scary studying Georgia Clark?” It must be hospital gossip that the new girl has been interviewing an infamous serial killer. She doesn’t give me time to answer before she continues, “You know the press dubbed that girl
Femoral Fatale
? They said she liked to feel the blood drip through her fingers and then she would rub it all over her body like she was bathing in it, how sick is that? They said that’s why she went for slicing main arteries because the blood bathed her in pure evil. I don’t think anything could cleanse that woman of the depth of her crazy, no matter how hard they tried. And she has some weird thing for your boss too.”

I already know the patient is criminally insane; it’s the doctor I’m curious about.

“Huh,” I say nonchalantly. “So what’s your take on my boss?”

“What…other than the fact he’s a genius and gorgeous? I’ll tell you this… It takes a certain kind of person to deal with the criminally insane and he does it flawlessly. I’ve never seen that guy’s feathers ruffled. The man is always in control, which only adds to his sex appeal, if you ask me.”

Interesting, considering I’ve seen him lose control twice already, and both times were because Georgia baited him.

“Well, it’s been great talking to you but I need to get back to work, not to mention this coffee is getting cold.”

“Sure thing, and if you ever have any questions about that handsome devil you work for, my name’s Sally, just look me up.”

“I may just take you up on that, Sally.”

I briskly make my way back to the office. I’ve been gone too long and I really don’t want to hear more ominous details about my boss, be they true or false.

“My, my, my, that must have been quite the gossip session.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I put Dr. Brinkley’s coffee down in front of him.

He takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces, eying me intently as I check my computer screen to verify that my login is complete. “Well, you’ve been gone a while and the coffee’s tepid, so that means the cashier bent your ear.”

Yes, my boss is adept at reading between the lines. “Yes, I think she has quite the crush on you.”

“Like you do for your body guard?”

“I never said that.”

“You forget so easily that it’s my job to read people.”

“Well, your reputation with the women precedes you,” I say tartly, having no desire to discuss Thorn. The man wreaked enough havoc on my nerves this morning when I woke up to discover his morning wood stabbing me in the back and his massive hand cupping my breast. When my sleepy self instinctively arched back into the curve of his hip, he nuzzled my neck as the hand gripping my breast started exploring farther south. Somehow I managed to elude his wandering hands and make it to the bathroom for my shower, his frustrated growl nearly stopping me in my tracks. Without thinking, I reach up and gingerly touch my neck. I swear I can still feel where his stubble raked over my skin.

Dr. Brinkley’s eyes narrow and darken, almost as if he can read my sexy thoughts. His husky voice confirms it as he continues, “I won’t deny I have my choice of women to meet my physical needs. But I’ve yet to meet a woman who intrigues me intellectually…until now.”

“I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but are you talking about me?”

“Oh, yes, Windy, I’m most definitely referring to you. I’m most intrigued by how you process information.”

I sip my tepid coffee, then push the mug aside on my desk as I prepare to point out the obvious. I lean back in my chair as I tilt my head to the side and cross my arms. “You’re intrigued with Georgia, as well, and she’s most definitely intrigued by you. In fact, I was also approached by a patient who told me that you like to take patients to the basement and allow Georgia to hurt them.” I say it lightly but when I note the dark shadow cross his face, a chill runs down my spine.

“The patient is mistaken,” he declares curtly. “I do hope you came to that conclusion on your own, Miss Fairchild. While I acknowledge being captivated on a deeper level by the dark work I do, it has never been nor will it ever be my desire to hurt anyone. I certainly won’t allow my patients to hurt anyone.”

“So… What? You just enjoy toying with the obsessions and insecurities of others?”

“Oh, very much so,” he replies with a slow smile. “I would go so far as to say it’s why you and I have so much in common…our fascination with the criminal mind.”

“Well, I won’t deny that’s where my interests lie. Their exceptional intelligence only adds to the danger they present to society. That alone makes Georgia’s fascination with
you
all the more intriguing to
me
.”

“Perhaps working with serial killers has enabled me to think like one,” he says as he sips his now cold coffee. His steady gaze on me never wavers.

“I suppose one can’t look into the face of evil without being affected by it,” I say coolly as I turn to my computer, ready to start my next school assignment.

“Yes…Windy. The darkness has a way of bringing our demons into the light, no matter how innocent we think we are.”