Stronger than Sin (Sin Hunters)

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Stronger than Sin (Sin Hunters) Page 19

by Caridad Piñeiro


  With that, he provided his concerns about Howard.

  “I don’t know why, but when they first injected me, something went crazy inside. You can call it anger. Rage.”

  The scientist in Liliana kicked in. “You’re introducing a foreign substance into one of the body’s key systems. If you don’t suppress the immune system beforehand, your body is going to war against the invader.”

  “Maybe that invasion is what causes the reaction, but it lasted for a while. I can’t say how long, because they pumped me up with drugs right after,” Jesse admitted, struggling to recall the specifics of those early days in the lab but unable to do so.

  “Whatever it is, we’ll need to stay clear of Howard until our plan is under way.”

  Their strategy. A risky and dangerous endeavor. But there was no other way to safeguard all the innocents who might suffer if Whittaker, Morales, and their associates continued their illegal enterprise.

  “Be safe, Liliana. Don’t take any unnecessary risks,” he said and kissed her yet again.

  The kiss was one filled with hope, and as she responded, it became one of possibilities.

  His mind let go of all the danger. Filled with the taste of her. The scent of her, that flowery tone over the more womanly aroma.

  They would survive this. Together, he thought, lost in the promise of the kiss.

  * * *

  Frank Lambert, if that was really her John Doe’s name, worsened within half an hour of her early morning arrival at the hospital.

  The fever they had been trying to contain throughout the night spiked, driving his temperature up to a perilous 104 degrees.

  Liliana, Carmen, and an assortment of nurses worked like demons, getting him into an ice bath and pumping him full of antipyretics, but to no avail. His fever continued to climb until his body erupted into violent convulsions.

  Nothing they did controlled the seizures or rising temperatures.

  Shortly before noon, Frank Lambert passed away.

  Liliana and Carmen shut down all the monitors and covered Frank’s body with a sheet.

  “I’m assuming you want me to do the autopsy,” Carmen said as she handed Liliana the chart so she could sign off on the cause and time of the patient’s death.

  Hands shaking, Liliana accepted the chart. Pulled the pen out of her lab jacket pocket and scrawled the list of the actions they had taken and the factors leading up to the patient’s demise. With each word, a sick feeling grew in her stomach until the pain was so intense, she had to stop writing, sit down, and double over.

  Immediately Carmen was at her side, patting her back. “It’s not your fault. You did all you could.”

  How many times had she heard those words? Liliana thought.

  Too many.

  And if they couldn’t figure out how to stop the proliferation of the proteins in Jesse’s body, he might one day be just like Frank.

  “Lil?” Carmen pressed and leaned forward until she was almost level with Liliana’s downturned face.

  “Can you take a bone marrow sample when you do the autopsy? Make sure to take plugs from both his hip and femur.”

  She met Carmen’s anxious gaze. As her friend stared at her, worry apparent in the deep ridge across her forehead, Liliana peered past Carmen to Frank’s now still body.

  “Why a fever?” she wondered aloud and dredged up the thoughts she’d had earlier that morning as she and Jesse had discussed Howard.

  Carmen shrugged. “We’ll know once we do the autopsy.”

  “I suspect someone dosed him with an inhibitor complex, even though we were worried that might kill off his bone marrow.”

  Looking back toward their dead patient, Carmen seemed to understand where she was going.

  “If the inhibitor worked too efficiently and he lost all his bone marrow, he’d be immuno-depressed—”

  “And subject to all kinds of infection, hence a fever,” Liliana finished for her, then surged up out of her chair and snapped the chart shut.

  “We can’t use an inhibitor if it will kill off all his bone marrow.”

  “You’re talking about Jesse. About what to do to stop that from happening if we treat him,” Carmen said and swung her hand back toward Frank.

  Liliana nodded, strode toward the door, and paused with her hand on the knob. “Let me know what you find out from the autopsy.”

  Carmen eyeballed her again. “Is something wrong? Something you’re not telling me?”

  With a quick jerk of her head, Liliana confirmed it. “I can’t say until I know more.”

  And because Carmen trusted her friend without hesitation, she didn’t ask Liliana for anything else.

  When Liliana was ready, she would fill Carmen in on whatever she should know.

  CHAPTER 27

  It always seemed so much more clandestine in the movies. Secret meetings tucked away in the corner of a coffee shop somewhere. Furtive glances to make sure they weren’t being observed.

  Instead, Ramon sat across the kitchen table in the late afternoon, passing over copies of photos of Whittaker, Howard, and Bruno along with their rap sheets.

  Liliana shuffled through them, reviewing the information on their assorted felonies and misdemeanors. While Bruno’s was colorful and Howard’s worrisome, Whittaker’s was infinitely deadly.

  Assassination, sabotage, extortion, spying, kidnapping, torture, fraud, gun smuggling, and now, human experimentation.

  Liliana rubbed a hand across the back of her neck to quiet the fearful hackles there and tossed the materials on the tabletop. “Quite a background.”

  “He’s a dangerous man, Lil. You don’t want to mess with him,” her cousin said and gathered up the papers.

  “I have no choice. There are too many people to protect.”

  Ramon leaned back in his chair and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s risky, but—”

  “You’ll get together everyone you need to in order to protect us, my family, Carmen—”

  “And Jesse. He’s a big part of the reason why you’re doing this, isn’t he?” Ramon pressed, cocking his head to one side in a gesture she assumed he often did. Usually in an interrogation room.

  She splayed her fingers against the oak surface of her kitchen table. Pressed down until her knuckles were white as she held back all she wanted to say.

  That she was confused.

  That she was possibly in love with Jesse.

  That she was afraid he would die and nothing she could do would save him.

  “Yes.” She glanced at him directly, daring him not to ask more. Begging him not to further question her.

  With a quick nod of his head, he acknowledged her plea. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pen and passed it to her.

  She picked it up and, arching her brows, examined it.

  Ramon made a rotating motion with his hands. “Twist the barrel to activate the GPS device in the pen. Whittaker will be sure to snag your cell phones to keep us from tracking you.”

  Wagging her head, she gingerly laid the pen back down on the tabletop. “I understand.”

  “He’ll be watching you the moment you start this, so…” He rose, walked over to her, and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Be safe, prima,” he said and kissed the top of her head.

  “You, too, Ramoncito,” she replied, embracing him also and squeezing tightly. Certain she could trust her cousin to keep them safe.

  Not so sure she would have the bravado to carry out the plan.

  Ramon must have sensed her hesitation. He pulled away and said, “It’s not too late to back out. We already have enough to round up Whittaker and his goons.”

  “But not enough to find the missing patients or Morales and Edwards.”

  Ramon’s lips tightened with displeasure. “Not enough.”

  “Then let’s do this. Before I chicken out.” She patted his hand, trying to reassure him almost as much as she was herself.

  She could do this, she thought.

>   She had to do this.

  Jesse heard the thump and clank from up in his bedroom.

  Loud and repetitive. Almost insistent.

  He hurried down the stairs and to the gym.

  Howard was there, lying on the bench and doing a press. His body bathed in sweat. Ripped muscles strained with each press and release of the weights. A lot of weights. Well over two hundred pounds, Jesse guessed.

  With a final clang, Howard dropped the weight stack and sat up, clapping his hands like an Olympic weightlifter who had just completed a world-record lift.

  The man contained his enthusiasm as he realized Jesse stood there.

  With reason.

  Although Howard had been strong before, he seemed more defined now. His muscles larger, almost bulging.

  Could it happen so fast? Jesse thought, trying to drag up memories of when he had first been injected, but it was still all a haze. Morales had wasted little time in pumping him full of drugs so that he could be controlled after the introduction of the genes.

  Had he been like Howard? he wondered, taking in the man’s almost feral gaze and flushed features. Sweat rolled down Howard’s hairline and along the side of his face, gathered at his chin before dripping onto his soaked muscle shirt.

  “What’re you looking at, Bradford?” Howard challenged with a jerk of his head.

  Jesse raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “No problem, dude. Just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “Dude,” Howard mimicked and laughed, almost maniacally. “I’m just fine, dude.”

  The other man was bucking for a fight. In another life, Jesse would have willingly engaged him, uncaring of the end result.

  But not today.

  Too much was at stake for him to risk a beatdown of Howard for the sake of male vanity.

  With a submissive pump of his hands, he stepped away from the other man but didn’t turn his back on him. He didn’t trust Howard for a moment in his current state.

  The man was a loose cannon, which only made the plan he and Liliana had worked out even riskier.

  And made Jesse reconsider their strategy.

  He continued retreating, focused on Howard until he was in the hallway and heard the creak of the front door opening.

  “Howya doin’ Dr. Carrera?” Bruno said.

  “Okay, Bruno. Is Jesse around?”

  Jesse rushed down the hallway but paused to appreciate her as she waited in the foyer.

  “Liliana,” he said, leaning against the wall and laying his arms across his chest to contain the jump in his heartbeat at the sight of her.

  A guarded smile came to her face. “Jesse. You’re looking well.”

  He held his hands wide and sauntered toward her. “Feeling great, Doc. You look good also.”

  Her smile brightened until Bruno ribbed, “Can we take this mutual-admiration society to the kitchen. Boss man called to say he was on the way.”

  “Because I called him, Bruno,” she said and, brushing past him, strode to the kitchen, Jesse close behind.

  He leaned toward her and whispered, “I need you to take a look at something.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked, worry coloring her tones.

  Because Bruno was near enough to hear them, he lied. “My ribs are still a little sore. Could you see what’s up?”

  “Let’s go to the gym—”

  “No, not the gym. Howard is in there… working out. My room would be better.”

  Liliana nodded but spoke to Bruno over her shoulder. “We’ll be back as soon as I examine Jesse.”

  Bruno grunted his assent, and Liliana and Jesse rushed upstairs. After they entered his bedroom, Jesse closed the door and leaned on it.

  “Howard is in the gym pumping over two hundred pounds of iron like it was a feather pillow.”

  Liliana’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t think it could happen that fast.”

  With a shrug, Jesse said, “We need to reconsider what we’re doing. Howard could be a major problem.”

  Liliana laced her fingers together and shook her head. “I’m not sure we can. Ramon is already working on it.”

  Jesse pushed off the door and walked to her. He laid his hand on her shoulder. So small beneath his palm. So fragile.

  “I don’t want you hurt.”

  She smiled and covered his hand with hers. “You won’t let that happen, and I won’t fail you.”

  He shook his head. “I know you mean that—”

  “I won’t fail you,” she urged, rose up on tiptoe, and kissed him. Pressed close, sealing her promise with her lips and body.

  “Yo, can I get this kind of exam?”

  Jesse and Liliana jerked apart and faced the door where Bruno stood, mouth agape. Eyes wide as his mouth flopped up and down while he struggled for what else to say.

  “Whittaker here?” Jesse asked while at the same time wrapping his arm around her shoulders, presenting a calm and unified front.

  Liliana wasn’t feeling so peaceful. Her stomach was alive with nervous flutters, but she knew she had to tame them to handle Whittaker.

  “Yes, has Whittaker arrived? I’ve got news for him,” she said, hating the slight quaver in her voice.

  “He’s here, and yeah, I can see you’ve got something to tell him,” Bruno advised cynically and left.

  Jesse patted her arm. “You did fine, Lil.”

  The shakes she had been controlling intensified, so much so that Jesse must have felt them.

  He embraced her tightly, steadying her. She wrapped her arms around him, used him as her anchor, and peace flooded her body.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Whittaker waited in the middle of the kitchen, arms across his chest. Bruno and Howard flanking him.

  Bruno had a goofy look on his face. Howard had a towel around his neck, hands wrapped around the ends of it. The pose made his muscles look even larger and more menacing.

  “You wanted to see me,” Whittaker said, his composure even although she could sense the annoyance beneath the seeming calm.

  “She wants to tell you she and Bradford are an item, boss,” Bruno said, earning an elbow from Howard and a rebuke.

  “Shut your mouth, you baboon.”

  Whittaker arched a brow. “Is that true, Dr. Carrera?”

  “Frank Lambert died several hours ago.”

  “Since you found out his name, I guess you can notify his family,” Whittaker replied with a careless shrug.

  Liliana continued, but beside her Jesse’s body tensed with anger.

  She covered his hand with hers, and Whittaker’s gaze flickered down for a moment, then returned to her face.

  “I believe Lambert died as a result of the administration of an inhibitor complex.”

  Another cavalier shrug preceded his reply. “Wardwell has had that medication for some time.”

  Liliana advanced on him and pointed at his chest. “It wasn’t Wardwell’s formula that destroyed a substantial portion of Lambert’s bone marrow cells.”

  “What are you suggesting, Dr. Carrera?” Whittaker asked, as calm as could be.

  “I’m suggesting you administered our version of the medication. Lambert’s dead cells, together with his depressed immune system, resulted in a systemwide septicemia that killed him.”

  “Shame, don’t you think, Mr. Bradford?” Whittaker replied and peered past her to Jesse.

  “Lambert was no longer valuable, but you need Liliana to help with the remaining patients,” Jesse said and twined his fingers with hers in a show of support.

  Whittaker narrowed his eyes and considered them. “So you’re a team now? And you think I need you?”

  Howard chuckled ruthlessly, until Liliana said, “Howard needs us unless you want him to end up like Lambert.”

  Whittaker smiled, but it didn’t register in his flat, cold eyes. “So you think you know?”

  “I know you’re felons and not the FBI. I know you need
me and my team to help you.”

  His smile flickered, and Howard took a step toward them, but Whittaker snapped up his arm to hold back his associate.

  “How can you help?” Whittaker asked with a desultory jerk of his head.

  Liliana glanced upward at Jesse from the corner of her eye. There was no going back now. No retreat.

  She plowed forward, nearly strangling Jesse’s hand with the force of her grip.

  “We’ve got the capabilities to adapt the inhibitor. Develop different strategies to control the gene replication.”

  Whittaker jammed his hands into his pants pockets and jingled the change there. “And you’d help me? Fully aware of what I am? What I do?”

  She nodded and waited for him to continue.

  The change jingling stopped while Whittaker shot a sidewise glance at Howard. “And in exchange? What do you want, because no one ever does anything for free.”

  “Jesse leaves with me. Right now. You stay away from Jesse’s family and mine. My lab people. And you provide me whatever information I need about the genes implanted in Jesse.”

  The words left her mouth in a rush, and Jesse’s hand tightened on hers, urging caution and restraint.

  She paused after the stream of words, waiting for a read on Whittaker.

  “That’s not all you want, though, is it?” he said, obviously sure of her intentions.

  He wasn’t wrong. “I want you to let me treat the Wardwell patients and the others you’ve taken.”

  Whittaker laughed out loud, the sound booming across the tiles in the kitchen. Then he began that maddening jingle of the change again.

  “You think that’s funny?” Jesse confronted, pushing her back toward the man.

  Liliana restrained him, then turned and cupped his cheek. “It’s what we have to do, Jesse. I hate it as much as you do, but it’s what we have to do.”

  Facing Whittaker again, he was examining her freshly, as if ready to believe her offer. When he gave a controlled, almost methodical bob of his head, she realized he had accepted it.

  But before she could react, he raised his forefinger. “Understand this, Dr. Carrera. No one fucks with me. Break the deal and you’ll all be slowly and painfully dead.”

 

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