Every Dark Corner (The Cincinnati Series Book 3)

by Karen Rose

  ‘I know.’ He tapped his pocket where an iPad Mini poked out. ‘I read his history on my way to his room. Sometimes the opioid OD symptoms recur. I’ll wait and give him Narcan again if that happens.’ He looked over Kate’s shoulder to Troy. ‘And no, he can’t OD on the Narcan.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Troy said. ‘I was going to ask.’

  ‘Everyone does. Did you touch the equipment panel, Detective?’

  ‘Special Agent Coppola,’ Kate corrected him. ‘Behind me is Special Agent Troy and this guy here is Special Agent Davenport. And no, I did not. I only clamped the tube. Why?’

  ‘Because someone’s set this drip to maximum flow,’ the doctor said grimly. ‘Based on the amount in the bag, it wasn’t dripping long. Ten, fifteen minutes, tops.’

  At least the doctor was a believer now. ‘I was on the phone with Agent Davenport about five minutes before we got here. He sounded alert at that time.’

  ‘Felt it right after I hung up,’ Decker said, his eyes still closed. ‘Feeling better now.’

  ‘That’s what they all say when they don’t want a breathing tube,’ the doctor said.

  ‘Your lips aren’t blue anymore at least,’ Kate told Decker. ‘That scared me.’

  Decker’s lips quirked up for a brief moment. ‘Me too. Nurse set up the bag and left. I watched some TV. It was near the end of the hour, because after that the news got less stupid.’

  The doctor nodded. ‘The timing works then. Jen, who was on duty in this room?’

  Nurse Choi frowned. ‘I was. I still am. But I didn’t change his IV. He came with one from ICU and it was about half full, just like that one. The flow settings were on minimum, too. He shouldn’t have needed a new bag for at least another hour.’

  ‘What did the other nurse look like?’ Kate asked Decker.

  ‘Forty or so. Blonde. Thin face. Like a rabbit.’

  ‘A thin face like a rabbit?’ Kate asked.

  ‘No. She twitched. Facial tic.’

  ‘We need a list of all your nurses,’ Kate said. ‘Blonde or otherwise. We’ll question them. We should have put the whole hospital on lockdown.’

  ‘I did,’ Troy said. ‘Not a complete lockdown, but we have officers at each exit and Security is making copies of all the video in the entire hospital. Davenport, how tall was she?’

  Decker closed his eyes again. ‘Five-six. One-twenty at the most. She was thin all over. Hair was buzzed short.’ His brows furrowed slightly, as if thinking hurt. ‘That twitch . . . Now that I think about it, she might have been high.’

  ‘Shit,’ the doctor muttered.

  ‘Buzzed hair?’ Nurse Choi grimaced. ‘Could be Eileen Wilkins. But she’s not on this floor.’

  ‘She’s ICU,’ Kate said grimly. ‘Or that’s where I saw her. She changed his IV a few times while he was in the coma.’

  ‘I’m calling downstairs,’ Troy said. ‘They can monitor the exits and catch her if she hasn’t gone yet.’ He stepped away from Decker’s bed and made the call.

  Decker’s expression had gone completely neutral. ‘I don’t remember her.’

  Kate leaned over the rail to speak in his ear, keeping her voice calm even though she was so angry she could spit. ‘Because you were in a damn coma. She could have killed you at any time and you wouldn’t have even known she was there. I could have watched her do it and never have known. So if that freaks you the fuck out, I’m right there with you.’

  His jaw tightened, then relaxed. ‘Yeah. It does.’

  ‘If she’s still in the hospital, we’ll find her.’

  His chest rose and fell as he drew a deep breath, then exhaled. When he opened his eyes, she saw the full extent of his fury. And his understandable fear. ‘And if there are others who have poison IV bags?’

  ‘We’ll work on that. We’ll figure out how to keep you safe. I promise.’

  His nod was curt, but she didn’t take offense. It was difficult to be in a helpless situation when you were used to being in charge. And being confined to a hospital bed made you feel as helpless as a child anyway. Perhaps even more for the person standing by and watching than for the patient himself. This she knew well.

  But this time it’s different. She let herself breathe, just a little. At least Decker would live.

  Cincinnati, Ohio,

  Thursday 13 August, 12.35 P.M.

  He answered the phone on its third ring, after checking the caller ID. ‘This had better be good, Nursey. I’m tired of your excuses.’

  ‘It’s done.’ Roy’s girlfriend choked out the words. ‘It’s done, you bastard. Now leave my son alone.’

  ‘How did you do it?’

  ‘I gave him enough Dilaudid to kill an elephant. Put it in his IV, set it on max drip.’

  ‘And then you walked away?’

  ‘Yes. Would you prefer that I’d been caught?’ She hissed the words through her teeth.

  His phone vibrated as a text came through, this one from one of his indispensable contacts inside the hospital. Nurse failed. Fed lived.

  Of course he had. He clenched his teeth. Goddammit. Now he’ll be even harder to kill.

  ‘Of course I don’t want you to be caught,’ he said to the nurse calmly. ‘You’re out of the hospital, then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s good. Did anyone see you?’

  ‘No. The Fed was asleep. I slipped in and slipped out again. I didn’t swipe my keycard either. I just followed people in and out, so there won’t be a record of my having been there. I’m supposed to be off shift, so that would have been hard to explain. We had a deal. You were going to fix it so that I couldn’t be connected to Roy, that he wouldn’t have my vials in his pocket.’

  She sounded nervous as she made her demand. He noticed that she didn’t sound terribly devastated that poor Roy was dead, which meant she wasn’t that stupid.

  ‘I don’t break my promises,’ he informed her icily. Unlike some people. ‘Roy’s death will not be connected to you.’ Because she’d be dead, too.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, trying for dignity. ‘I won’t hear from you again, correct?’

  ‘No.’ You won’t hear me coming, or see me either, sweetheart. ‘I’ll do you one better. I’ll tell you where Roy is so that you can get the vials yourself. That way you’ll know for sure that it’s all taken care of.’

  She released a relieved lungful of air. ‘That would be perfect.’

  ‘I’ll text you the coordinates.’

  He ended the call, sent the coordinates to Roy’s nurse, then texted a reply to his trusted contact. Any suspects?

  He had to wait a minute for the answer. The Fed saw her.

  ‘Of course he did,’ he muttered, then texted back. Who knows?

  Everyone. Feds. Staff. Word spread like wildfire.

  Leave it to the staff grapevine, he thought sourly, then texted his reply. Thx. TTFN.

  No prob. Love you. XOXOXO.

  Which was a damn good thing. A contact who loved you was one who wouldn’t sell you out. Until they didn’t love you anymore. But he always killed them before that happened.

  Whistling, he grabbed his keys, unlocked his basement door, and jogged down the stairs, past his lab, and past the locked door to the storeroom where he kept his best coke, heroin, and meth, as well as the steroids that made him so much money with the gym rats. He unlocked the door to his armory, where he kept his rifles and handguns and a few new weapons he’d made himself but had never tested. He had the proper elements to create a few quick and dirty car bombs on an as-needed basis – and he had needed them over the years, usually as a not-so-friendly warning to a client who hadn’t paid.

  Locked away in a special cupboard was what was left of the ricin he’d made just to see if he could. After all, Walter White had done it on tel
evision. How difficult could it be? Turned out, not so difficult at all. He’d been disappointed that it hadn’t been more of a challenge, so he’d used some of it to try something different – a twist on a flea bomb that would kill a lot more than fleas.

  He kept the result – two canisters of aerosolized ricin – fully contained in a special airtight safe. Not because he worried they’d be stolen. Nobody had a key to this room but him. But if they went off by mistake? That would be bad indeed.

  But he didn’t need anything like that to deal with the nurse. He grabbed an ordinary semi-automatic rifle and his favorite handgun, complete with a silencer, just in case. There was no need to try to mask the death of Eileen Wilkins as anything more than it really was – the elimination of a contract employee whose services were no longer required. Because she’d failed. He wanted people to know about Eileen. He wanted any future contacts to know that he did not suffer fools. Needed to ensure that the next time he ordered a hit, it would be done quickly and done right.

  Now he’d have to figure out what to do about Griffin Davenport. That the man would have a guard 24/7 from here on out was a given. That he’d spilled important information to his fellow Feds was also a given.

  He briefly wondered if Davenport was worth killing at this point. Alice was dead, so she couldn’t corroborate anything he said. And she’d left no records. So I’m good there.

  But it bothered him, leaving that loose end unsnipped. He needed the man gone, simply for his own peace of mind.

  He locked the basement once he’d finished. ‘I’m leaving now!’ he called up the stairs to Mallory. ‘I’ll be back for dinner.’

  Mallory appeared from the laundry room, carrying a basket of clean clothes, size tween. Everything an adolescent boy or girl would want to feel special. ‘I’ll have it ready.’

  ‘I feel like steak. Make sure we have steak.’

  ‘I may have to go to the grocery store, then.’

  He didn’t worry about letting her run free – within limits, of course. He knew that she knew better than to run away or to tell or to do anything that would endanger him. He held her sister’s health and happiness in the palm of his hand.

  He tapped her nose with his finger, realizing that she’d grown taller yet again. She’d been such a cute kid. His first star. She’d made him and McCord a hell of a lot of money, even with all the pirating bastards who’d played their videos without paying for them.

  ‘Get some fresh strawberries while you’re at it,’ he said. ‘And make that shortcake that you do so well. I’ll be in the mood for that later.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio,

  Thursday 13 August, 12.35 P.M.

  ‘Those breaths were normal, Doc,’ Decker said after drawing several deep breaths at the doctor’s request, each one lowering Kate’s blood pressure a little more. That the Narcan worked meant that they’d identified the problem correctly. He’d been drugged, not poisoned like Alice. ‘I don’t think I’ll need any more of your wonder drug, and you really don’t have to stay any longer. I’m good now. Thank you.’

  The doctor gave him an exasperated look. ‘I’ll make my own decisions, Agent Davenport. I’ll leave when I believe you’re stable.’

  ‘I figured you’d say that,’ Decker muttered. He focused his blue eyes on Kate, and her heart tripped a little. He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. ‘Who was poisoned?’

  Giving the doctor a wary look, she bent down to whisper in his ear. ‘Alice.’

  Decker’s wide shoulders sagged. ‘Goddamn it to hell. She was a loose end.’

  ‘I know.’ She swiped her thumb across his knuckles. ‘We were afraid you’d be considered a loose end too.’

  He huffed a hoarse chuckle. ‘So you jumped the staff like hurdles.’

  ‘Yeah.’ And it was worth it, because he was okay. She tugged her hand free. ‘I need to get that food on the floor bagged and tagged. I’ll be back.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Troy said, coming back into the room. ‘You stay with Davenport.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate said to her partner. ‘Had Eileen Wilkins left yet?’

  Troy scooped the spilled food into an evidence bag. ‘Yeah, dammit.’

  Kate sighed. ‘You put out a BOLO? I know you did. I’m sorry. I’m still shaken up.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I didn’t take offense.’ Troy sealed the evidence bag. ‘Hospital security is getting us a copy of the photo on her ID badge. I’ll amend the BOLO when I get the pic.’

  ‘This is your partner?’ Decker asked. ‘He’s not an asshole like the other guy.’

  Troy laughed. ‘You really didn’t like Novak, did you?’

  ‘Asshole,’ Decker pronounced.

  ‘Deacon’s a good guy.’ Kate kept her reproof gentle. ‘We’ve been friends for years.’

  ‘Still an asshole.’

  Troy stood at the foot of Decker’s bed. ‘I’m Luther Troy. It’s nice to meet you, Agent Davenport. Should I call you Griff or Decker?’

  ‘Either is fine.’ Decker took several large breaths, then opened his eyes wide and fixed his gaze on Kate. ‘You said something about bringing me something I could use to get online?’

  Kate sucked in one cheek. ‘I think he really is feeling better now, Doctor.’

  ‘Or he’s obsessed,’ the doctor said. ‘He made a major fuss up in ICU.’ Again he tapped the iPad in his pocket. ‘Pissed off the nurses.’

  Decker’s cheeks darkened. ‘I apologized.’

  ‘It was noted, which means the nurse accepted it. You must have done some serious kissing up to charm Mary Jean. She’s a tough one.’ The doctor handed the tainted IV bag to Kate, set up a new one, then pulled what looked like EpiPens from his pocket. ‘I’m leaving these with you, Agent Coppola. They’re auto-injectors. Same active as Narcan, different name. Aim it anywhere. You can’t hurt him. If he feels another wave of exhaustion or his breathing becomes erratic, dose him. Don’t hesitate. Then call the nurse. I’ll stop by in a little while to check on him.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Kate put the injectors in the pocket of her jacket. ‘What are we going to do with you, Decker?’ she asked when the doctor had left the room.

  He flashed her a quick, wicked grin. ‘In what context, Kate?’

  Her cheeks heated. ‘In the context of keeping you alive.’

  His blue eyes twinkled at her. ‘Oh yeah. Well, I guess that would be nice, too.’

  ‘I’m beginning to understand Agent Novak’s issue with you,’ Troy said tartly.

  ‘Stop it,’ Kate said when Decker opened his mouth to reply. ‘I’m afraid to leave you here.’ She gave Troy a troubled look. ‘Anyone can get to him, even with an armed guard at the door.’

  Troy sighed. ‘I know. It’s not like they’d know if the medical staff were doing the wrong thing, any more than we would.’

  Decker’s expression went stony once again. ‘I need to get out of here. They told me to walk, that I could leave if I walked.’ He abruptly tried to sit up, then sank back to the pillow with a groan. ‘That was really dumb, wasn’t it?’

  Kate gave him no quarter. ‘It really was. How long did they say you’d have to stay?’

  ‘They said a week. I was aiming for four days. Now . . . I need out of here faster.’

  ‘Exponentially faster,’ Kate agreed. She studied the pieces of equipment monitoring him. ‘What are they worried about? Infection? Relapse?’

  ‘Pneumonia. The bullet wound’s mostly healed, but pneumonia’s a risk if I’m not moving.’

  ‘So you can’t be guarded in here 24/7. You have to leave this room sometime to walk.’ A thought occurred to her and she turned to Troy. ‘Is it possible to get him a private physician we can trust and set him up in a more secure location? Like a hotel room or a safe house?’

  ‘I actually like that idea,’
Troy said, sounding surprised.

  Decker nodded. ‘So do I,’ he said, but didn’t sound surprised at all, which was nice. ‘You got an idea for a doctor we can trust?’

  Kate nodded. ‘Yeah, I do. Dani Novak. Deacon’s sister. She just quit this hospital and doesn’t start her new job for a few days. If she’s available, we can trust her.’

  ‘She visited you yesterday,’ Decker said, and Kate blinked down at him.

  ‘You heard that?’

  ‘Bits and pieces,’ Decker acknowledged.

  ‘I’ll see if we can make that happen.’ Troy opened the door, then looked back over his shoulder. ‘Guard’s here. His name is Agent Triplett. I’ll call you when I know something, Kate. Good meeting you, Griff.’ He closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone.

  Decker fumbled for the bed control and slowly raised himself so that he was sitting up. ‘Now, that tablet you promised me . . .’

  Kate shook her head. ‘You know you’re a single-mindedly stubborn man, right?’

  ‘I consider that one of my strengths.’ He held his hand out. ‘Please.’

  Kate dug the tablet from her yarn bag, but hesitated before giving it to him. As soon as he went online, he’d look up the status of the case that had gotten him shot. He’d see the obituaries and read about the death of Agent Symmes, the only name he’d given as his emergency contact. Notification of his handler’s death should be more personally delivered. ‘I need to tell you a few things first.’

  His eyes immediately shuttered, hiding his emotions. ‘I’m listening.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio,

  Thursday 13 August, 1.00 P.M.

  Decker was listening, but he didn’t want to be. It didn’t take a genius to know he wasn’t going to like what was coming.

  To her credit Kate didn’t mince words, didn’t try to make it better with euphemisms and platitudes. She just said it, plainly but gently. ‘Agent Symmes is dead.’

  Closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see the sympathy in hers, he clenched his teeth against the growing tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with his physical injuries. For a few heartbeats he remained silent until the worst of the emotion had passed. When he spoke, it was evenly. Carefully. ‘I figured as much.’