Hour of Reckoning (Donatella Book 2)

by Demetrius Jackson

  “Don't worry,” the woman said reading her mind. “We've left enough backend clues that will lead to an inside job and we orchestrated his disappearance. By all accounts your system worked perfectly and no one will think anything different.”

  While that may be true, when Citi heard of this breach, they may have second thoughts. Her mind, already racing into damage control, began to discount the remainder of the conversation. How was she going to spin this with their reps?

  “Oh, and don't worry about your meeting with Citi Bank,” she continued. “We have already worked out a plan to resolve any potential roadblocks.”

  The look of shock Veronica wore on her face turned to disbelief. How did they know about the Citi Bank deal?

  “You'll be adding me as the final seat to the board and you'll want to do so today. Familiarize yourself with my credentials,” she said handing her the envelope that she had in her left hand. “Doing so fills your vacant seat and gives you some sway over the negotiations. Let's just say I have a long-standing relationship with members of their board. With me by your side the deal will go through unchallenged.”

  Veronica, flabbergasted, stood mouth agape. Words formed in her head but none passed through her lips. She wanted to know what sway she had on their board but decided it wasn't worth knowing.

  “I do look forward to finally working with you. With me by your side, we are going to change the world.” With that, she and Buckley turned toward the door to make their exit. Buckley once again, turned and eyed Veronica top to bottom. She didn't say a word but Veronica could sense her thoughts - she didn't like them.

  She made her way back to the coffee pot and poured a mug. Idly she thought, four tablespoons would have made for a much better cup of coffee after that experience. With coffee and files in hand, she sat at the island. She opened the folder, took a sip of her coffee, and began to read. In the back of her mind she thought, tomorrow I'm sure I won't sleep until my alarm.

  Chapter 17

  June 8th – 9:00 a.m.

  S pecial Agent Dabria sat in the oversized chair at Brent's Coffee Shop watching the interactions between the patrons sipping on a chai tea. The case, along with its misdirection and countless interactions, had been well crafted. She knew Buckley orchestrated the series of events - but to what end? She wrestled with this conundrum while the man standing in line nibbled playfully on the woman's ear in front of him while she giggled.

  Hearing that Buckley used an alias of Bree in her unexplained interactions with Veronica King was another taunt - another jab. This news, which should have focused her mind, only made the picture more - obtuse. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed a second perspective to help lift the fog.

  On cue, Detective Sampson entered the door of the coffee shop. He scanned the room intensely before laying eyes on Donatella. He recently had a haircut, she mused internally.

  She stood as he approached, “Thanks for joining me.”

  “No problem at all. This case has me as bugged out as you. It’s past time we solve this case - these cases.”

  Donatella nodded as they both took a seat. Pleasantries out of the way, Sampson continued.

  “I say we start at the very beginning with victim number one, Samantha Young. She was shot at the hands of her lover, something forced upon him by Terri Buckley. She controlled the situation and the outcome by threatening his family. Why?”

  Donatella chimed in, “Buckley has a fierce disdain for men who cheat on their significant other.”

  “Yea, ok. But that doesn't answer why. Why have her killed in that fashion?”

  “She did it this way to ensure it caught my attention. Recall the card that you found at the scene. The sensational way in which Samantha was murdered combined with the card was meant as a message – to me.”

  “What was the message?”

  Donatella looked Sampson squarely in the eyes, “She's saying she'll have four lavish crimes and the fifth one is meant to harm me in some way.”

  Sampson looked at the woman sitting across from him for a moment. He decided to press forward.

  “Aside from getting your attention, is there anything crucial about the first victim?”

  “No. But she did work in the same office in which Jasmyn sees her OB. Other than potentially stealing records there isn't much there for her.”

  “Ok,” he said but there was still a thought percolating in the back of his mind. “Then you have the massacre at GIS. The entire board, save Veronica King, is wiped out. King is spared and has written a note inquiring about Bree Buckley.”

  “Another clear sign of intent. Bree is the first name of my goddaughter who she kidnapped to lure me into a confrontation.”

  “By all accounts, this woman is brilliant, you've said it yourself. We know she is responsible for the massacre but why? What did she gain?”

  Donatella chewed on the question for a moment, “Leverage. She used the leverage of Adam, mainly against him, to kill Samantha. Perhaps she spared King so that she could later use her.”

  “To what end? If she has some sort of leverage over King. What is King giving her in return?”

  “I don’t know – but we need to find out. We need to look at any recent business transactions from GIS. They are one of the foremost leaders in security systems. We need to see if there are any recent transactions that could lead to a motive for Buckley's moves. I will look into this,” Donatella stated.

  Sampson nodded and continued, “After taking some time off, the next sign we saw from Buckley was the killing of Penny Hampton. A suburban housewife, and director of nursing that was abducted from her own garage. An abduction and murder that she didn’t leave on display for the public to see, but rather in a home under development. The only connection I can see is back to Samantha Young, who also worked in the medical field. The big difference being Penny was responsible for the entire nursing operations within Atrium Health.”

  “There is another connection,” Donatella interrupted. “Indirectly, Jasmyn reported to Penny. You have a situation in which the receptionist at her OB’s office is murdered. Later, a superior of hers is murdered. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Neither do I. I’ve given this some thought. There is another link. Have we taken a look at her OB, Dr. Prince? Samantha reported to her and the good doctor has a relationship with the hospital.”

  “It’s something worth investigating,” Donatella stated. “Why don’t you make your way to the OB’s office and see what you can unearth.”

  Once again, he nodded. “There are two things that are bothering me. If we interpreted the card correctly, there are still two events left to unfold. One of which is meant to bring your demise. The second, what’s the significance of The Thinker? Other than the first two crimes, he hasn’t made another appearance.”

  Donatella didn’t immediately respond, but the last question – The Thinker – had crossed her mind as well. What did it truly mean?

  “Let’s just hope we can prevent those last two, assuming the fourth one hasn’t already taken place. If it has, this little dance of ours will be coming to an end really soon.”

  Sampson and Dabria, with a plan of action, stood and made their way to the exit. Outside, a lone figure sat in a car parked across the street. The figure watched as the two went their separate ways before turning over the ignition and exiting their parking spot.

  June 8th – 9:40 a.m.

  Donatella slid into the soft leather seat of her R8 and closed the door. She replayed an important element touched on during the conversation with Sampson. She knew Buckley wouldn’t hesitate to harm others to achieve her objective. For that reason, and the fact those in the medical field continued to meet a cruel fate, she was happy that she had taken precautions when it came to Jasmyn. Precautions done without the woman’s consent but done to protect her life. She continued to ponder, Have I done enough?

  This was no time to second guess her decisions. The best way to keep Jasmyn, and those sh
e cared about, safe was to put an end to this ordeal. The cold feeling came over her. The feeling that more blood would be shed.

  She started the car looking for a contact within her phone while the Bluetooth technology connected. Once the connection was established, she placed her call. The phone rang twice before being picked up on the other end

  “Special Agent Dabria, I hope the day is as beautiful as you are.”

  “Bryce, I need you to do something for me.”

  The grave tone in her voice was something unlike anything he heard before. The agent was always clip and matter of fact. On several times she was even urgent. This was expected – that was her norm. However, today she came across as pensive, worried. This caused the young man, who typically slouched as part of his normal posture, to sit up straight, hands on the keyboard, ready to provide whatever help he could.

  The reality was he would do anything for the agent. She saved him from some serious jail time and had taken him under her tutelage. She straightened him out and gave purpose to his skillset. Purpose aimed at helping others. This was something he hadn’t seen for his future but he was glad that he now had this opportunity. Still, he fought the urge to correct her into using his initials, BJ. Instead he simply asked, “What can I do for you?”

  “I need for you to dig into the recent actions for Global Insights Security. Search a month prior to the massacre until current. I want to know of any contracts they have signed or any that are pending. I want a complete list of their clients. I want a complete list of their previous board members and a complete list of the new board members. I want to know about any cash discrepancies. I need this as soon as possible.”

  BJ hadn’t said a word while Donatella listed off her requests. He keyed each request mentally placing them into categories and relevance. When she was done, she said,

  “BJ – thank you for your help.”

  There was a long pause. By this time the agent had typically disconnected the call; however, she had not disconnected today. Tentatively he said, “You’re welcome.” Seconds later he heard the line go dead.

  During the call, Donatella had been driving with no firm destination. However, once the call had concluded, she knew exactly where she was going and exactly what she planned to do when she arrived. The destination wasn’t far from her current location and she arrived in a matter of minutes.

  Now, at the GIS offices, she walked through the door and entered the lobby. The same security guard, Busch, was there from her previous visit with Sampson. The stride in her step conveyed the sense she was all business and while the guard wanted to do his job, he decided it was better to let the FBI woman pass without challenge.

  She pressed the up button at the bank of elevators and waited on one to arrive. After an interminable amount of time, two elevators arrived at the same time. One carrying a group of three men and one woman all dressed in business attire. They spoke in hush tones but it was clear from the few words Donatella could make out that a partnership was being sought.

  The second elevator was empty and Donatella stepped into its car and pressed the button for the fifth floor. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and calmed her mind. Everything she had was supposition, but she needed to push this woman – she needed answers.

  The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and Donatella Dabria stepped onto the floor. The time for niceties were over.

  She strolled toward the now familiar office of Veronica King. Along the way she garnered a number of onlookers but none stood in her way. She vaguely glimpsed at a woman reaching for the phone. Maybe she’s calling security, she thought as she kept walking.

  She spotted King walking back toward her desk from the door and she was only a few paces behind her. As King turned to sit, Donatella was closing and locking the door.

  Startled she asked, “What are you doing in here? I’m going to call security.”

  “No need. They saw me waltz through the lobby and one of the ladies I passed on my way to you was certainly making that call. Until they arrive – if they arrive – you and I are going to have a chat. You have not been 100 percent honest with me, and that comes to an end – today.”

  King held a look of defiance on her face but the façade was slowly fading.

  “Bree Buckley,” At the sound of her name, Veronica shuttered and tried to hide it; however, Donatella caught the subtle movement.

  “What do you know about her? How did you come across her?”

  “I’m sorry, who? I don’t know this woman you speak of. Is she important to this case and what happened to my colleagues?”

  “Damn it, King! I know you have heard the name. Hell, you asked the question yourself. Who is she?”

  And just how in the hell does she know that, Veronica thought.

  “Let me tell you who she is. Her name is Terri Buckley – a psychopath who will destroy everyone and everything to achieve her goal. If you know who she is, it’s in your best interest to tell me what you know.”

  What I know will get me and my daughter killed, she thought. Plus, there’s that shadowy organization she works for. Seems their reach is endless.

  “Look, Agent Dabria. I don’t know this Bree or Terri person you are looking for. Now if you could please leave, I have a company to run.”

  Donatella with cat-like quickness was at King’s side in the blink of an eye. Slamming her hands on the wood desk she yelled, “This is not a game! She has already killed several people in her path to reach her end goal. I know you’re involved with her. I’m damn near certain you know about, or participated in, the death of your colleagues.”

  She spun the chair and pulled Veronica to her feet. “When I find the evidence linking you to the murder – the massacre – that transpired here, I’m going to bury you. After I end Buckley, you’ll be next on my list!”

  Distantly, she could hear the sound of rapid footsteps approaching. King responded, “Take your hands off of me. Touch me again and I’ll ensure you see the inside of a cell.”

  The handle to the door jiggled. “Mrs. King, is everything ok? Open up this door.” Another jiggle.

  “Last chance, Veronica. If you don’t tell me what you know, you’re linking your fate with hers.”

  A set of keys could be heard from outside.

  Veronica pondered for a moment. She could admit to knowing the woman, but with such uncertainty in the outcome, it was a chance she wasn’t willing to take. Furthermore, she liked the power that she currently wielded, and she knew if she played her cards right, there would be more to come.

  “I don’t know who you are talking about,” she said in a voice that came from deep in her core.

  The right key was found, the lock disengaged, and the door flung open.

  “It’s alright, Charles. My guest was just leaving.”

  “Come on,” the security guard said reaching for Donatella’s arm. Before he touched her, he saw the menace in her eyes and decided it was a better option to escort her out without touching her.

  Donatella gave King one last look before exiting the office that sent a chill down her spine. When the FBI woman left she took a heavy breath. Her alliance was now fully cemented with that of The Syndicate. There was no turning back because she realized she just made an enemy out of this woman and that too scared her.

  June 8th – 10:00 a.m.

  Detective Carl Sampson had never been to an OB’s office. The thoughts of going into the office with understandably hormonal women gave him the cold sweats. He began to wonder why he didn’t take the review into GIS recent activity and Donatella take the discussion with Dr. Prince. He knew being uncomfortable was a part of the job so he needed to simply soldier on and get this over with.

  “Come on, Carl. You can do this. You deal with hardened criminals all the time. You’ve walked into the warehouse of a drug ring where you knew the opposition would be carrying guns. You can walk into a building where women are carrying babies.”

  He took two more deep breaths a
nd opened the door waiting for the barrage to hit him and then – nothing. No screaming babies, of course not, they aren’t born yet. No women on edge ready to pounce. They all, the three women in the waiting room, turned and smiled and waved. Then they went back to reading their magazines or playing games on their phones. He stood there momentarily astonished. The silence was both unexpected and refreshing.

  “Can I help you, sir?” came the voice from the receptionist bringing him out of his daydream. He walked over to the desk smiling inwardly at the absurdity of his reservations a few minutes prior.

  He looked down at the name plate, Lucie T. Berkry – that’s an unusual name, “Good morning, Lucie. My name is Detective Carl Sampson,” he showed her his badge. “I’d like to speak with Dr. Prince.”

  Lucie flashed him a smile, “Well hello, detective. Dr. Prince is with a patient right now. She will be wrapping up soon. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let her know that you are here.”

  His anxiety began to rise again, “Over there? In the waiting room?”

  “Yes sir. I promise they won’t bite,” she said widening her smile.

  He couldn’t help but to smile back. “I guess you’re right. I’ll just go wait over there.” Once he sat down his mind mulled over the case. They had looked at this case from every angle. This Buckley woman was constantly multiple steps ahead. He firmly believed that she was setting a trap for the Special Agent but he hadn’t determined the origin of the trap. Or could it be she was trying to frame the agent for the crimes that were being committed? That was an angle he had not looked at previously.

  A frame job didn’t feel right. From everything he heard about this woman, framing Donatella isn’t want she wanted. She didn’t want to see the woman spend time behind bars. She wanted to destroy her and everything she ever cared about. So, no, it wasn’t a frame job.