by Dobi Cross
The muscle in the man’s jaw flickered. He knew Drake was obsessed with Zora, but by ordering her death he’d practically gone off the deep end and wasn’t thinking. Killing Zora now would be messy and could draw more attention to their business. It was a good thing that the police had no idea of Drake’s involvement in the profitable enterprise. Maybe it was best to take care of him now before he became a problem.
“Boss, what would you like him to do?”
“Tell him to leave Zora alone. But it’s time to take care of Pierce.”
“Yes, boss.” Erik pivoted and left the room.
Drake Pierce. Goodbye to utter rubbish. The best thing was that no one would miss him.
He checked the time on the wall clock, and an adrenaline rush filled his veins. The next human painting would be here soon.
He could hardly wait.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Tiny removed his wireless headphones and laid them on the kitchen counter. He’d been preparing Drake’s lunch when the call from Monkey came in. Drake didn’t like eating out except when it was necessary. So Tiny had learned how to cook.
Tiny knew all about Monkey and the conversations he’d had with Drake. He had decided long ago that he needed some insurance policy, since working with Drake was such a high risk job. If he wasn’t careful, he could be left holding the bag if things went wrong. So he’d sent a spyware to Drake’s burner phones that activated when a call was placed. Tiny could now record them and Drake had been none the wiser. The files could come in handy in the future.
Tiny had no illusions about Drake’s loyalty, even though he’d worked with Drake for many years. Drake was committed only to himself, everyone else was either supposed to be used or disposed of. And Tiny had no plans to end up at the bottom of the river.
And now he’d just found out that Drake had put out a hit on Zora. Drake had always assumed that Tiny had a thing for her, but it wasn’t in the way Drake thought. Zora reminded Tiny of his younger sister who had been killed by a gangbanger. She had been smart, an honor student who had been looking forward to attending college away from the streets they had grown up in. She had planned to become a doctor.
But on the eve of her graduation from high school, she’d been gunned down on her way back from the grocery store. The gang members in question had later claimed that they’d thought she was someone else. But that hadn’t mattered with Tiny. Justice had to be served, and he had taken three lives for the one that was lost. He’d been caught and had ended up with murder charges with a possible life sentence. But he had crossed paths with Drake in the courthouse, and Drake had taken an interest in him and managed the impossible feat of getting him off as a free man. And Tiny had pledged to work under him.
But he hadn’t known that under all that geniality existed a brutal sociopath. He had literally sold his soul to the devil. Tiny had ended up killing more people under Drake’s orders than he’d wanted to remember. The only thing that kept him sane through it all was thinking about his sister. But then memories of her face had started fading. Then he’d met Zora, and it was as if his sister was standing alive in front of him.
Tiny was aware Zora was a different person from his sister. But getting updates on her had become the one bright spot in his dreary life, and watching over her had been like a chance at redemption. And now Drake wanted to take everything away.
He couldn’t let that happen no matter what.
It was time to intervene, and he had to do it quickly.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The black phone rang from her bedside table. Zora lifted her head and looked at the alarm clock beside it. It was only one a.m. Why was Dave calling her so early, especially after she’d met him at the cafe just a few hours ago? She picked up the phone and answered it. “Hello.”
“It’s me. Dave.” Zora heard what sounded like shuffling of papers in the background. “Do you think you could come to the station now? I know you would prefer not to, but it’s about the case. You might want to witness this conversation that’s about to take place.”
Sleep fled Zora’s eyes and she sat up. She hated stepping into the police station, but solving this case was top priority. She took a deep breath. She could do this. “Sure, I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Good. Call me when you get here.” He disconnected the call.
Zora scrambled out of bed, called a taxi service, and dressed quickly in jeans and black jacket over a V-necked blue T-shirt. By the time she’d descended to the bottom of the stairs, a cab was waiting for her in front of the building. Zora jumped in and urged the cab driver to head to the station. She called Dave as she arrived, and he met her outside.
He didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Let’s head to the interrogation room,” he said. We’ll talk once we get there.” Dave turned and led the way into the station. Zora’s heart flipped over, but she steeled herself and followed him inside. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought she was the suspect from the brusque way Dave spoke to her.
The police station hadn’t changed much from the last time she’d been there, but everything seemed different somehow. Even though she’d rather be anywhere else, she didn’t feel the usual urge to flee the station. Of course the smell of aged coffee, stale pizza, and something acrid she couldn’t name assaulted her nostrils as they passed the break room. There were only a few people in the main area of the station, and they were either busy with their heads down, talking into phones, or taking naps. None of them paid Zora any attention.
Zora didn’t expect to see any familiar faces. She’d heard from Marcus a few years ago that Detective Morris had moved out of state and was now working for the New Jersey Police Department. His partner—Detective Shepherd—had been medically retired due to injuries he had sustained on the job.
Dave led her down the hallway to a grey door and stepped in. Zora slipped in after him into a small narrow room with a large two-way mirror positioned about five feet high on one side of the wall. A counter with two computer monitors on it ran below the full width of the mirror. Zora could see through into an interrogation room.
Dr. Graham was sprawled in a chair behind a table bolted down in the center of the room, his goatee unkempt and his tie askew. Zora could also see CCTV cameras mounted at the top corners of the interrogation room, their videos captured on the computer monitors in front of her. So this is how it looks from the other side of this kind of room, she thought.
Dave moved closer to where she stood. The woody smell of his cologne wafted up her nostrils and she resisted the urge to lean in. It seemed some things never changed.
“I’m sorry about the way I brought you in. I needed to get you in here as fast as possible without any witnesses. How are you feeling?” Dave asked, his eyes searching her face.
“Good.” Well, more than good if he kept standing this close to her.
Dave turned back to the mirror. “We’ve just arrested Dr. Graham for illegal gambling,” he said. “Since it’s not looking great for him, I figured this might be the best time to ask him some questions regarding Jasmine’s case. I think we can shake something loose from him before his lawyer arrives, and I thought you might want to listen to whatever he has to say. Why don’t you wait here while I go talk to him?”
Zora nodded, keeping her face impassive. Even though the idea of being alone in a room in the police station brought back memories she’d prefer stayed buried, she would not think about them. She had to focus on what was about to happen in the next several minutes.
Dave left the observation room and shut the door behind him.
Zora crossed her arms around herself and watched Dave enter the interrogation room a few seconds later with a burly cop in tow. He sat opposite Dr. Graham, while the other cop stood in a corner of the room.
“Dr. Ronald Graham, I’m Detective Dave McKesson and this is my partner.” Dave gestured at the cop in the corner. “Like you’ve been told earlier, you’ve just been arrested and charged with
illegal gambling. You are aware that you have the right to remain silent and to refuse to answer questions, anything you say may be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish, and if you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney.”
Zora saw Dr. Graham sit up in his chair. “I want my lawyer. I’m not talking till he gets here,” he said.
“Sure. We’ll just wait right here till he comes. In the meantime, let me help you understand what’s going to happen to you.”
Dr. Graham stayed silent, but seemed to be listening.
“Since we caught you in the act and have the evidence to prove you were involved in illegal gambling, we expect that you’ll be convicted and get up to one year in jail. Which means you will lose your medical license.”
Zora lifted an eyebrow. Dave had just stretched the truth. Even though a doctor in this state would get his license revoked with a felony conviction—since it constituted unprofessional misconduct—such revocations were not permanent. Those would only happen in felony cases such as murder, rape and assault; financial crimes such as extortion, embezzlement, and income tax evasion; criminal neglect or misconduct resulting from patient care; and drug use and narcotic diversion.
Graham could appeal to have his medical license reinstated once he’d completed his sentence, even though the process was typically lengthy and laborious. But Graham didn’t know that. His eyes widened though he fought to hide his alarm.
Zora leaned forward, all her nervousness gone. She hated lying as an interrogation tactic, but she hoped it would work in this case.
Dave’s eyes stayed fixed on Graham’s face. “That means all those years you’ve invested in becoming a doctor? Poof. Gone, just like that,” Dave said.
Dr. Graham swallowed. “You’re lying.”
Dave leaned in. “You think so?”
Dr. Graham’s laryngeal prominence bobbed again.“I want a deal.”
“A deal? With what?”
“I know something that might be helpful to you.”
Dave stared back at him. “Go on.”
“It’s for a very important case. I’ll tell you everything as long as I don’t get taped. And I get no jail time.”
“It depends on what you tell me.”
Dr. Graham went on to tell Dave that it had all started last year when his mom fell sick and needed a coronary bypass. Her insurance didn’t cover it, and he had a lot of student loans that still needed to be paid off. Some friends of his had invited him to a club, promising him that he could make a lot of money in an easy straightforward way. All he needed to do was roll some dice, and since he was a brilliant doctor, he could put his analytical skills to good use. Graham was desperate so he’d followed along and taken the chance.
But luck wasn’t on his side and he’d ended up in more debt. His new creditors didn’t waste any time in coming after him. They told him the only way to write off the debt was for him to assist with certain surgeries they had in mind. It wouldn’t really be anything illegal, and they would also pay him extra to make it worthwhile. But if he refused, then he would have to give up his organs as payment. All they needed him to do was to take care of the patients brought into the ER without asking any questions.
The choice had been clear for him. He’d acquiesced on the condition that they also pay for his mother’s surgery. Since then, they’d brought in patients for him. He’d made enough that his total debt was almost paid off. He’d also never seen any of the patients again after surgery. But that had changed with Jasmine; he’d seen the news about her death. That’s why he had gone to the club—to clear his head.
“How many patients are we talking about?” Dave asked.
“I’ve personally attended to over fifty of them. But I think there might have been more. I don’t think I’m the only doctor they use.”
Zora’s mouth fell open. That would mean about one patient per week at a minimum.
“Any clues to who the other doctors are?”
The door to the interrogation room opened, and a tall man in an expensive tailored suit strode in, holding a briefcase. He was the kind of lawyer that was definitely above Graham’s pay grade. “My client is advised not to say another word.” He opened his briefcase and handed Dave some papers. “We applied for bail and my client has been released on his own recognizance.”
Wow that was fast, Zora thought.
“I believe my client is free to leave at this time,” the lawyer continued.
Dave said nothing.
The lawyer turned to Dr. Graham. “Let’s go.”
The observation room door opened, and Dave walked back in. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the wall.
“What did you think?” Dave asked Zora.
“This feels like something straight out of a movie. Over fifty patients? That’s a large number!” Zora said.
“And there may be more.”
Zora perched at the edge of the counter and folded her arms across her chest. “For that many patients, there has to be someone higher up in the hospital that is covering for them. Someone with significant authorization to be able to take care of the records and give an unknown operating team access to the OR. I won’t be surprised if this is a more complicated network than we imagined.”
“I agree.”
“So what’s next?”
“I plan to check in on Dr. Graham tomorrow to see what else I can get out of him, but I doubt I’ll learn anything new. I know that lawyer. He is one of the heavy hitters in town. I can’t even see how Dr. Graham could afford him.”
“Maybe someone hired the lawyer on his behalf.”
“Most likely. I wonder who. And this lawyer is so good that he’ll be able to make the illegal gambling charge go away.”
“What if the lawyer works for the cartel? They came to mind when Graham was talking about the creditors. It sounds like something in their wheelhouse.”
“That crossed my mind as well. I’d already planned to look into it.”
“Any news about Christina?”
“No new information yet. Forensics didn’t find anything—the guys who tossed her room knew what they were doing. We checked her financial records, but there’s been no credit card charges or cash withdrawals in recent times. Because we believe Christina’s disappearance might be linked in some way to Thunder, we have a few of our informants watching out for him, but there’s been no news yet. It’s like he’s gone underground. But we’ll keep looking.”
“Thank you.” Zora said. “Maybe it’s time I let Christina’s mom know what’s going on since it’s been a few days since she’s disappeared, even if we don’t have any new information to share with her. I’ll give her a call later today.” Zora couldn’t help but yawn and she covered her mouth in embarrassment.
Dave chuckled. “I’d forgotten the time. Let’s end it here for now. I also need to get you out of the station before anyone else figures out what we are up to. Why don’t I give you a ride home?”
Zora started to shake her head, but then nodded as another yawn escaped from her. “That would be perfect.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Tiny stood outside the glass frosted door that led to Drake’s home office. He could hear Drake pacing within, an occasional curse exiting under his breath. Tiny knew what had happened. He had received an alert once Drake had called Monkey. There had been no answer on the other end of the line. And there would never be.
Tiny had taken care of Monkey. He had no hard feelings against him; the guy had simply taken the wrong job, an assignment that Tiny could not allow to happen. The good thing was that the Monkey preferred to handle his own jobs instead of outsourcing them, so killing him had closed the assignment from his
end. But there was one more loose thread to take care of.
He knocked on the door and heard Drake bark a response. Ordinarily, this would have been a terrible time to see Drake; he could easily transfer all his anger and aggression on Tiny. But time was not on Tiny’s side, so he took his chances.
He walked toward the desk and placed the tray he held on its surface. He picked up the glass of water on it and offered it to Drake.
“Thanks,” Drake said.
Tiny watched him as Drake emptied the glass and handed it back. Tiny placed the glass back on the tray and picked both items to leave the office. As he headed to the door he heard the sound he was expecting.
Tiny turned to see Drake fall on his knees, his hands clawing at his throat as if to stop what was happening.
“What did you—?” Drake managed to utter.
“I’m sorry but you shouldn’t have tried to kill Zora. Goodbye, Drake.” Tiny turned back and left the room.
By the time he came back into the room with a backpack strapped on his back, and his hands gloved, he didn’t have to look to see what had happened. Drake was dead. And it was time for Tiny to disappear. He’d destroyed the CCTV videos last night and had already removed all his items from Drake’s penthouse, burning whatever he couldn’t take along. To minimize the risk of DNA transfer, he would leave the body where it was for the police to find, whenever that was. Because nobody would miss Drake.
The Collmark strategy team would assume that he was taking some time off and would only inform his father after a few days. By then, Tiny would be very far away, and he already had an alibi in place. He swiped down the surfaces he might have touched, which included the door handles. He’d already disposed of the tray and the glass.
Tiny took one more look at Drake before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him for the final time.