McAllister Justice Series Box Set Volume Two

by Reily Garrett

  “The same goes for you. You don’t go anywhere alone. Got it?”

  Nothing she could say would change his mind or attitude. If the killer had wanted her dead, he’d had the perfect opportunity at their initial meeting. Still, it didn’t mean the gargoyle wouldn’t change the rules of his game.

  “Do you think she nicknamed him that because she got a glimpse of his face but is subconsciously blocking it out? She wasn’t raped, but it’s what anyone would fear in that situation.” Billy drew his finger across her forehead and massaged her temple.

  “Time will tell. The bastard probably thought one of you would go berserk after he sent that sample, which by the way, we haven’t been able match to anyone, yet. Abby will process her experience, both consciously and subconsciously. Nightmares will also bring up subtle details. Royden knows what to look for and won’t push too hard.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Remie studied the next slide under the highest power of her microscope, obtained from the mother caught between her daughter and her pusher. Traces of hydrogel used in manufacturing the spare part shared identical characteristics with tissues originally suspected of belonging to Gena and Wendy but were later found to be replicas.

  A slide of the college professor’s breast tissue had failed to reveal any discerning remnants that defined it as a carbon copy. Age of the tissue meant time and the remarkable regenerative processes made the cells indistinguishable from her normal breast. Whoever developed the process used on the professor had perfected it, which pointed to two different medical arenas at work.

  Conflicting evidence pointed them to more than one team, confirmed by what she now examined. Until she could connect the dots, she couldn’t point a finger in the killer’s direction. “Damn, this is good work.”

  “Which doesn’t point a finger at its creator.” It was an hour past Jonathan’s clock-out time, and he hesitated after storing the last cadaver.

  “I can say without a doubt, the two samples sent to confuse us were made by the same person, same materials. But the professor’s surgeon…I have no idea. It’s like they took the ITOP system one step further, or more like several giant leaps further.”

  “ITOP?”

  “Integrated Tissue and Organ Printing System. You can research Anthony Atala from Wake Forest Institute for Regenerative Medicine. Back in Feb 2016, he manufactured a transplantable human ear.”

  “How’s it a stretch to go from an ear to a breast?”

  Remie swiveled on her stool to face the assistant. “Because the breast needs a more sophisticated infrastructure including veins, arterioles, and lymph system.”

  “Ah, so you’re saying her breast was reconstructed before the known modern advances.”

  “Exactly.” This level of frustration was new in her career.

  “Maybe it’s the same scientist, flying under the radar, and working out different models.” Jonathan’s playing devil’s advocate often helped sort different theories. He never complained about working late on special cases.

  “We are definitely dealing with two different teams.”

  “Why? Why not a single person?” His hand hovered over the handle to one of the refrigerated compartments. “You want to start on Kalinwalski first thing in the morning, Remie?”

  “Yeah, and thanks for staying, but it’s time for you to go home. I’m going to study more samples.” Remie swiveled back and switched slides. “The professor’s surgery would have to involve a team. The study and perfecting of tissues would take full-time dedication. You’d need a surgeon to actually perform the procedure. Not many are cross-trained. The specialty is too diversified.”

  “Have the police interviewed all the known bioprinting specialists in the area?” Jonathan doffed his lab coat and hung it on a hook by the hallway.

  “Yes, but the scientists in this field are so damned secretive and protective; it’s hard to tell why someone is withholding information. Maybe there’s more to it than we know.”

  “Shit. All right. I’m heading out. See you tomorrow. Where’s your escort?”

  “I told Billy I’d call him before I left.” A frown gathered Remie’s eyebrows together, her gaze unable to pierce the mystery thwarting them all. Wariness nibbled a layer of confidence with her teeth scraping her bottom lip. “Is the guard still out in the hallway?”

  Jonathan poked his head out the door and gave a thumbs-up signal to the uniformed officer. “Yep. I think he’s bored since Jocelyn left for the day. See you tomorrow, Remie.”

  “Tell him I won’t be much longer.” Remie listened as the double doors swung closed behind the assistant. A vague premonition, the sense of impending doom reminded her of when she was a kid watching scary movies where a cadaver clawed its way from the grave. The dead never bit, stabbed, or maimed. It took years to learn, it was the living counterparts with their twisted imaginations that deserved her fear.

  Somewhere, somehow, she’d missed something, a vital part and key to it all. It was her job to examine the microscopic evidence and aim the investigators toward the criminals. Guilt roiled in her chest as the dark side of her cunning imagination pointed an accusing finger at Ari. Few could match his intelligence and skill with a scalpel.

  Silence stretched out while her thoughts turned inward. Billy’s not-so-subtle questions the prior night concerning her cancer reminded her she hadn’t yet spoken with the surgeon. She’d done more research and made her choice, but making the call lent a reality she wasn’t ready to accept.

  A series of muffled pops redirected her attention when she adjusted the magnification of her scope. A dull thud followed.

  She froze.

  The front lobby consisted of the receptionist’s desk and the institutional furniture. Nothing should’ve produced a thud.

  The sudden whoosh of air brushing the back of her head directed her attention to the double doors. Two men dressed in black strode forward. One raised his gun hand.

  Pain in her shoulder.

  She recognized the type of dart and realized she had minutes before unconsciousness darkened her world.

  Even as she reached in her lab coat for her cell, a beefy hand clamped around her upper arm.

  “Nuh-uh, Doc. No need. We already have company lined up for you.”

  Nausea threatened to launch her stomach contents for a return appearance. Hazy thoughts and failing vision slowed her response. She needed to talk to Billy but couldn’t remember why.

  Then she knew nothing.

  Remie woke in darkness and the steady drum of her heartbeat roaring in her ear. Stark fear kept her quiet and her breathing even. Light crimson brightened the back of her closed eyelids when she angled her head to the right. A dim light. Cool tile underneath her leached warmth from her back. Abby described a different setting with dirt flooring.

  Another person drew breath nearby. The sonorous notes lacked gender identification, but her gut identified the source as feminine.

  No other sounds impressed her enough to confirm others nearby. She heard neither radio, murmured voices, birdsong, nor the creak of a distant floorboard.

  Very slowly, she inched her left arm outward until her fingers contacted flesh. Someone’s right hand. She prayed it was attached to a body.

  Wherever she was, she wasn’t alone.

  Edges on the stranger’s ring reminded Remie of the one Katt wore. A wolf’s head? Ohmygod.

  A feminine groan and low mumble verified her companion’s identity.

  She cracked open a lid to determine no one else was around. Feeling brave, she opened both eyes. The first things seen included a stained ceiling, cracked wallboard and peeling paint. The room itself measured roughly ten by ten with old wallpaper curling inward along its edges. She couldn’t make out the faded design. Lack of windows could point to an underground location or large empty closet.

  Both she and Katt lay on the floor, neither bound nor restrained. Apparently, the orchestrator of her current nightmare had no fear of them escaping.


  Why would the killer kidnap the investigator? Nothing made sense in her pain-filled mind.

  “Katt? Katt, wake up.” Even the whispered words increased the throb in her head. She squeezed the hand until Katt jerked it away.

  “Ouch.”

  “Shhh, Katt. You’ve got to keep quiet.”

  “Remie? Where are we?”

  “I don’t know. Someone drugged me in my lab. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Since Abby was still with Royden and you had an armed guard, I was in an alley staking out Farabee’s condo. The next thing I know, there’re two thugs at my car window and one shoots me with a dart. I got a look at one face but didn’t recognize him.”

  “Damn. I don’t wear my watch when I’m working, so I don’t know how long we’ve been missing.”

  Katt checked her digital watch. “It’s after eleven. We’ve been out a few hours.” Katt sat up and looked around, a heavy sigh and stiff posture marking her frustration. “Think we’re underground?”

  “Probably.”

  “Have you been assaulted? Sexually?” Katt checked her clothing to find it intact.

  Remie squirmed before shaking her head. “If he intended to kill us, he would’ve done it. Hey, let me see your side. Do you have any pain?”

  “Shit. The last thing I want is to be used for experimentation.” Katt squirmed to lift her shirt hem. “I don’t see anything and don’t hurt anywhere. Can you see any marks?”

  Remie leaned in to examine her companion’s flank. “No. How about the other side.”

  A pivot and scooch later, Katt twisted to reveal her other flank.

  “No. I think you’re clean.”

  “Thank God. I guess private investigators don’t warrant specimen retrieval. How about you?”

  “I think his scheme transcends work history. He got me the night he killed Gena.”

  “It looks like we’re in a small bedroom, minus the view.” Katt pushed to her feet, wobbled to the door, and tested the knob. A shrug of her shoulders confirmed their expectations. “Had to try.”

  Remie stood on shaking legs and motioned Katt closer to whisper. “Check for cameras or speakers. Abby said there was a speaker in her room, in the corner of the ceiling.”

  After a thorough check, Remie shook her head, receiving like in kind. “Nothing.” At least there’s a little good news. He’s not watching us.

  “If I had my backpack, we’d be out of here in no time. My pick set was in there.” Katt winked as one corner of her mouth tilted up. Kneeling to retie her sneaker, she fumbled with the hem, no, the elastic of her sock.

  Whatever she’d palmed before standing remained hidden.

  A lock pick?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Fuck me. How could this happen?” Matt crouched beside the dead officer’s body and with gloved fingers closed the eyes staring into oblivion. A small breech of procedure, but they’d known the young man who compensated for youth and inexperience with ambition. He’d wanted to make detective. Now he wore someone’s lead, a small hole above the vest. Dried, bloody foam had formed around his mouth, gravity leading it to the floor. Panic had filled his eyes. The gun he’d drawn yet hadn’t fired lay two feet away.

  “Remie said she needed to work late and would call me when finished.” Billy surveyed the crime scene and realized the killer probably laughed at the thought of leaving a dead body in the lobby of the morgue. “Either he let the killer in before realizing his mistake, or the killer pulled his gun and threatened to shoot him through the glass.”

  Low-voltage lights along the front walkway cast a sour glow on the ornamental tree greeting visitors. Remie had called it their tribute to life in a building honoring the dead.

  “Where’s the assistant?” Matt scanned the area then stepped out of the medical examiner’s way. Cool air rushed in as the photographer left. Stooped posture and sluggish movements defined the ME’s mood. Investigating the murder of their own cast a pall over everyone.

  Nothing appeared out of place except the unlocked front door. “I’ve called Caden to help us out. Kaylee is gonna stay with Royden and Abby.” Billy’s heart sank when the uniforms who’d searched the surrounding area came up empty.

  “One of the uniforms stopped at his house. Jonathan said he left here a little after six and went to O’Riley’s for a beer before heading home. “I checked on Lexi and Megan. Have you heard from Katt?”

  “What? No. She was supposed to sit on Farabee today. She’s not answering her cell, which I understand, but the fact she hasn’t answered my last text is pissing me off.”

  “Detective McAllister?” The crime scene tech removed his gloves as he glanced between the two brothers. “Ah—Billy. We’re done here. We checked the cameras. They went dark a little after five. We have nothing on tape.”

  “Of course. And this place is so fucking remote, there won’t be any witnesses.” Billy stood, needing to go, needing to scream, needing to kill whatever threatened Remie. He didn’t realize he was clenching his fists until Matt laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “C’mon. Let’s get to work.” Matt nudged his younger brother toward the door and under the yellow tape marking off the area.

  “Katt knows better than to not answer a text. Let’s locate the tracker you slipped in her pack and see where Farabee’s led her.” Icy calm glazed Billy’s words, drawn from the calculating analytical corner of his mind.

  “We know how they got in, but no clue to their identity.” A stretcher bearing a zipped cadaver pouch contained a large mannequin. “Most of the drivers and attendees know to use the service entrance in the back, even at night. Maybe the officer saw the stretcher and thought the attendant was new, then unlocked the door to check his ID and redirect him. Senseless waste.” Billy shifted his weight from foot to foot, red hazing his vision.

  “They would’ve shot him through the door otherwise.” Matt paused when Billy stopped on the sidewalk.

  “We’re missing something.” Billy searched the perimeter of the lot. Inadequate lighting failed to illuminate the area. “My gut tells me Katt’s in trouble. Whoever is monitoring her text messages might have hired someone to tail her.”

  “Yeah, you might be right. Since she doesn’t go anywhere without her backpack, we’ll have a location on her soon. Damn kid’s too young for this shitty life.”

  “I’ll head to Ari’s house. I have to see his reaction to Remie’s abduction to know if he’s involved.” Billy headed toward his truck.

  “I’ll call Lucas and Caden. Caden can cover my visit with Farabee and Luc can meet you at Ari’s house. Ethan can watch over our girls.”

  Billy snorted. “Yeah, he’s gonna love babysitting. I’ll call you.”

  Billy made the drive in half the expected time, his mind discarding scenarios just as his tires spewed gravel on the sharper turns. Fear for Remie became a living, sentient being in his skull, clawing and shredding the remains of his composure.

  He wanted to take Remie away from the chaos where mad scientists didn’t shove microchips up your nose or recreate brain tissue. If he did, who would fight the battles? There had to be a middle ground where peace and contentment allowed him to work, stopping the area’s psychos.

  When he skidded to a stop in front of his target’s house, he took a deep breath before popping the door latch. Luc hadn’t arrived yet. Remie’s life hung in the balance and he would do anything, break any law or barrier to keep her safe. He understood why Ethan and Lucas went batshit crazy when danger approached their other halves.

  He had a snowball’s chance in hell of staying in control if Ari lied to him. If he got the needed answers, it didn’t matter about the methods employed.

  Lights shone from the interior, warm and bright, as if the occupant celebrated a special occasion.

  His fist pounding the heavy planks produced an immediate answer. Ari tugged the door open then stepped back as if expecting a hard connection with his nose.

  Billy followed him in
and snatched him up by the collar. Backing the doctor against the foyer wall, he snarled, “Where is she? If you make me ask twice, I’ll break something, not furniture.” It was only then he thought to look around, noting they were alone.

  “I-I don’t know.” The ultimate panic in his voice was sincere. “I can’t reach the investigator. Damned irresponsible PI.”

  “When was Katt’s last check-in?”

  “Last night. She was supposed to call a half hour ago, but she’s not even answering my text messages.” In obvious panic, Ari reached for Billy’s arms then halted.

  Billy watched the doctor’s nonverbal tells. Anxiety just short of panic drove the man’s gaze from one area to another. Blood drained from his face while a nervous tick jumped at his left eye.

  “Fuck! If you’re hiding anything, anything at all, your fate will equal Remie’s. Got it?”

  “Y-yes. But what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll find her, and I’ll bring her home—with me. Do we understand each other?”

  “Y-yes. I get it.” Ari wrung his hands and slouched his shoulders when Billy let go. “I just want her safe—and happy. She deserves that much.”

  “She will be. Trust me.”

  “I don’t have a choice. W-what can I do to help?”

  “Pray.”

  Escape into the evening chill brought a welcome breeze beneath the waxing moon slinking toward the horizon. It occurred that he could’ve torn the doctor’s house apart from stem to stern, but the chance of finding any clue was nil. Years of detective work alerted his sensitive bullshit meter the instant someone’s body language portrayed signs of deception. The doctor was anxious and fearful but not lying.

  En route to his truck, his cell phone chimed, and Luc’s SUV slid to a stop. The message from Matt was an address and the words Katt’s backpack. Meet me there.”

  Billy knew the area around the Clarkston suburb. The homes sported sagging porches, ragged lawns, and roofs missing shingles. His investigations once took him to a rundown shack used as headquarters for a smuggling ring.