Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2) (28 page)

Thorn

The idea of posting flyers and getting the police to take the news to social media forums is a good one. Doing that and involving the news media will get the public involved. Someone has to have seen this woman and rewards have a way of breaking alliances, although I highly doubt she has any, other than the guard who broke her out. We still haven’t located him and he could be dead for all we know. He must still be of some use to her if he’s alive. One thing is certain: he knows the public is aware he worked with her on breaking out because the asshole never returned to work. Poor sucker lost everything for a twisted version of
love
. “Call Agent Turner and have him get a press conference started, Windy.”

“Why do you want
me
to call him?”

“Because I want him to get used to working with you.”

“You’re set on me working full time with the team.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“You of all people should know once I set my mind on something I want, nothing can change it.”

“I wonder, if Dr. Brinkley did the press conference, would it bring her out of hiding?” My girl is brilliant.

“That’s a great idea.” I grab my cell phone and dial the agent’s number, one I’ve become accustomed to dialing over the years.

“You just said you wanted me to call him.”

“Consider it one of the few times you’ll ever see me change my mind.” I meet her gaze, letting her know I’m serious about what I’m saying.

“You’re on speaker, Agent. The widow said something that made a lot of sense to us. We want to put flyers out and hit social media outlets hard, to get the public involved. Also how do you feel about the doc doing a press conference?”

“It might be a good idea to have Brinkley do it.”

“My sentiments exactly. Her obsession with him might bring her out into the open.”

“I’m on it. There are times I don’t like putting a subject’s face out in public, it causes them to run and the trail goes cold. But I think in this case it may be just what we need to bring her to the forefront. The same way she can’t control that nasty little need she has for blood; she can’t resist her need for the doctor. He gives her what no one else can.”

“What’s that?”

“Believe it or not...love. As close as she’ll ever get to it, anyway.”

Dr. Brinkley

I’m well aware why they’re asking me to do the press conference—she will be, too. The woman has a sixth sense when it comes to me. I guess I’m doing this press conference because it’s the least I can do. Hiding the fact I’ve had contact with her since she escaped doesn’t trouble me; I can’t expect anyone to understand what we have. Informing them would only cause me to lose credibility; it would also cause me to have no input regarding where she will be held when she’s caught. Crossing her in the form of not meeting her mandates will put anyone who crosses her path in danger, but it’s a last ditch effort to bring her out of hiding.

I’m walking a tightrope by leading her to believe I’ll have her put in prison, but pissing her off may be the way to force her into making a mistake. I have no intention of putting her in prison but she doesn’t need to know that yet. At this point, the less she knows the better so I have some degree of control in all the chaos she wreaks. It’s the same reason I keep the feelings I have toward her a secret that only she and I share.

Doing this press conference gives me the opportunity to make the general population aware there is a killer in their midst. Someone is bound to have seen her and she isn’t the type woman you forget.

I stand leaned against the back wall, taking in the activity going on as reporters set up and prepare to ask questions. This is by no means the first press conference I’ve done; it is, however, the first I’ve ever had to do where my emotions were involved. I inadvertently touch the gauzed area on my chest. She knew what she was doing when she put it there; she has been successful in keeping my mind exactly where she wants it -- on her. I’ve thought of little else since she used me so relentlessly. The memory of being clenched inside her is enough to harden my cock. I look around the room and my gaze lands on Miss Fairchild, who is looking at me with concern. I acknowledge her with a brief nod, and then breathe deeply to stifle my desires and get ready for the press conference to start.

I make my way up to the podium and stand next to Agent Turner as he prepares to introduce me—it’s show time and I can only hope she’s watching. I brace myself as the agent approaches the podium.

“We’re offering a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of Georgia Clark. She is a prolific serial killer who escaped from
Our Lady of Tranquility
.” He holds up Georgia’s photograph and turns it slowly in each camera’s direction. The faces of the reporters look eager, as if the more horrendous our story, the more pleased they’ll be. If I’ve learned anything in my years of being a psychiatrist, it’s that the public is intrigued with serial killers. As scared as they are of a killer, they are, nonetheless, fascinated by them.

“Make no mistake, this woman is dangerous. Do not approach her. Well, if you see her, call the tip line and the authorities will follow up. I cannot express how dangerous this woman is. Do not mistake her beauty for weakness. I fully understand by looking at this picture she appears to be harmless, she is anything but--”

The reporters interrupt Agent Turner to begin asking me questions.

“Dr. Brinkley, how did this woman escape the institution?” I use this time to hold up the photograph of the guard who helped her escape.

“We believe this security guard helped her. We also believe he left the facility with her but we cannot verify his whereabouts at this time.”

“Don’t you think it would be a good idea for a woman this dangerous to be held in a maximum security prison rather than a mental institution?”

This is my opportunity to piss her off and bring her out of hiding. I’ll be deviating from the script I’ve agreed to with the Feds, but I have my own goals here. If Georgia thinks I’m betraying her, she’ll be pissed and react. I can only hope she’ll make a mistake when she does. One that I can capitalize on to restore a proper balance of power between us. Anything less is unacceptable; anything less could prove to be…problematic.

“I most certainly do. The problem is, I don’t have the authority to decide where she is incarcerated. The courts make those decisions.” Though it’s a lie, it seems to satisfy the reporter and I continue. “We’re asking the local television stations and those in surrounding areas to post her picture on the news. Once again, if you have any kind of contact with this woman, please call the FBI’s tip line, and please promote the number to the public.”

Agent Turner and I leave the podium and he pats me on the back, leaning in to whisper, “Good job, Doc. You went off script, but that can happen to the best of us. No worries.”

I just hope it’s good enough to get Georgia off the streets and back where she belongs – under my control. I’m sure the $10,000 reward won’t hurt. Though she has her share of groupies, money has a way of causing even a crazed fan to see things in a different light.

I have always been amazed at the mail she receives in the hospital.
What in the world would make a man fall for a black widow?
Agent Turner looks at me strangely as I laugh at my own joke.

Windy

“You’re such a liar, Melissa, I can tell you like him.”

She sets her coffee down on the table and eyes me. “Okay, I do. Harley is a cool guy and he’s damn sure a good-looking one.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You know as well as I do, Windy, that man is a player, and I’m not fucking him just so he can toss me to the side when he gets bored.”

“He isn’t that bad, Melissa. Thorn thinks he just hasn’t met the right woman yet.”

“Well, he’s going to have his work cut out for him convincing me.”

I laugh when my friend makes a dramatic up-and-down gesture with her hands as she makes her next statement. “He’s going to have to work for
all this
.”

“See, that right there. Oh, yeah, I can tell he’s going to end up falling for you.”

She looks at me like she’s confused. “You know,” I say, “The whole hard-to-get thing is going to reel him in. Harley isn’t a guy who is used to hearing no. You, young lady, are just the challenge he needs.”

“I’m glad I have your approval, but I’m serious.”

“So am I--” I start to say when my phone rings. One look at the Caller ID and I know all hell is about to break loose. Dr. Fairchild’s on the warpath. “Hi, Dad.”

“Windy, what the hell is going on over there?!” my dad practically yells into the phone. “How much crazy do you need in your life? Now you have a serial killer in the mix? I’m putting a stop to this; Thorn will have something to say about this…”

“Dad, please, just stop. Everything’s under control,” I say, rolling my eyes as I cross my fingers behind my back like a child. “And Thorn is on top of things. He has the whole
Undercover Elite
crew stalking me, thanks to you, and he’s working with the FBI to catch Georgia.”

“You’re on a first name basis with this whack-job? Jesus, Windy, what’s next? Having a serial killer over for dinner?!”

Note to self: Get Thorn to include Mom and Dad’s house on the team’s surveillance protocol.

Dad’s just getting started, apparently, so I let him talk. “And your mother won’t leave her room. She and Cuddles are holed up in there together and I think that cat’s getting pretty fed up with the situation, too.” Cuddles is an elderly girl now, and I had to leave her behind at Mom and Dad’s because I didn’t think she’d tolerate a change of scenery at her age. I miss her, but it looks like it was the right decision after all. Dad is still on a roll, but his voice is calmer now. “Your mother’s hysterical, Windy; she’s convinced herself that you’re going to be ax-murdered in your sleep. For God’s sake, just come home.”

Melissa gets up when the doorbell rings, and Wonder looks up toward the front door and barks once, growling low. That’s weird; I’ve never heard her growl before. I scratch her behind the ears as she lies next to my chair in the kitchen. She did great in her first K9 class and I already love her so much. Even though she’s still small enough to pick up and cuddle, Thorn insisted on putting her in school.

“Dad, Thorn has my back. That’s why you hired him, right? I really couldn’t be in a safer place as long as he’s around.”

“Well,” he says, sounding somewhat calmer, “I’m pleased to hear you’re not fighting having him around.”

Oh, we’re fighting, alright. But the making up is kinda awesome.

“No, Dad, Thorn and I are getting along fine. And I promise we’ll stay in touch to let you know how all this turns out.”

“Well, tell Thorn to call me. I feel the need to set him straight on a few things.”

“Um, I’m not sure anyone can set Thorn straight, Dad. But you’re welcome to try.”

As I wait for Melissa to return, I contemplate my parents’ concerns and whether Melissa and Harley will end up together. It’s a case of ‘only time will tell’ on both counts. As much as I tease my friend about Harley, no one knows better than I do that she isn’t one to be pressured into decisions about any area of her life, much less her love life.

“Looks like your man sent you a bigger collar for that dog of yours,” she leans down petting Wonder and sets the box on the table.

“Hmm, she doesn’t need it, maybe it’s something else.” I use a steak knife to cut through the brown mailing tape. The stench hits me before I register the dead rat the bottom of the small box, and the note on top of his outstretched body.

You fucking cunt! I saw him look at you! You tell that boss of yours that he damn sure better secure me a spot in that nut ward he works in, or you’re dead, bitch!

“Well, it appears she saw our press conference.”

“You better take this seriously. And call Thorn, like, now.”

“I am, but I don’t care how crazy she is, I’m not running scared.”

I know Dr. Brinkley well enough to know he deliberately misled her to piss her off. I just don’t see him surrendering control of her that easily by letting her serve time in prison. I just hope he’s smart enough to know he put himself in danger, too, and not at the hands of that crazy woman—but at the hands of my over the top, Alpha boyfriend.

Windy

I don’t waste any time getting ready and making my way into work…with a dead rat in a box. I don’t care how crazy this bitch is; I’m pissed. I monitor my rearview mirror making certain no one is following me. Though this is the first time in my life I’ve ever worried about being stalked, I’ve become more familiar with the practice since meeting psycho bitch. I don’t know how this woman manages to pull off the things she does. It’s like she’s a ghost -- a ghost with incredibly foolish minions who do her bidding.

I take a moment to sit in the parking lot and calm myself; I’m going to need to have my wits about me for what I’m getting ready to do. I open my purse and make sure my 22 is there—if this bitch is coming after me, I’m not going down without a fight. When I was hired, I was determined to be a professional—now I’m a fighter; a goddamn survivor. Georgia made a mistake sending me that rat; I don’t like bullies. Maybe it’s time someone stood up to this woman.

I grab the small box and make my way in the front door, barely taking time to speak to Karen, who’s seated at the nurse’s station doing her usual job of handling three things at a time.

I make my way into the office and shut the door. I stride over to my boss’ desk where he’s taking a phone call. I toss the box on the desk in front of him. Seeing the humor on his face only fuels the anger coursing through my body.

His eyes narrow on me and he says abruptly, “I’ve got to go; I’ll get back with you later.”

I give him no time to say anything before I open the box and start in on him. “I don’t know what kind of sick connection you and this crazy bitch have, but you fucked up when you put me in the middle of it. I don’t need this job and you’ve pushed me to the point that I could care less about this job; Thorn’s already assured me I have a bright future ahead of me with
Undercover Elite
.”

The look of humor on his face is absolutely infuriating.

“Miss Fairchild…” he says patiently, as if he’s talking to a child.

“Don’t ‘Miss Fairchild’ me. You’re putting people’s lives in danger by pissing her off. You never should have told the press she needed to be in prison.”

He picks up the note, taking his time to read it even though it’s only a few sentences long.

“What do you suggest I do?”

I lean over the desk and look him dead in the eye. “I don’t care what you do. I have a concealed weapon in my purse, and if that bitch backs me into a corner, I’m going to shoot her right between the eyes. I feel like shooting both of you, but for now she’ll do.”

I turn and make my way out the door but not before I look over my shoulder and say one more thing, “Oh, you can keep the rat. Maybe you two can bar-b-que it for dinner.”

The only thing I hear as I make my way down the hall is his laughter ringing out.