Every Dark Corner (The Cincinnati Series Book 3)

Home > Suspense > Every Dark Corner (The Cincinnati Series Book 3) > Page 22
Every Dark Corner (The Cincinnati Series Book 3) Page 22

by Karen Rose


  ‘He eats this?’ Decker asked, truly horrified. Glancing at the closed door to the little office where Troy and Zimmerman had gone to work, he lowered his voice. ‘Voluntarily?’

  ‘He has an ulcer,’ Triplett volunteered. ‘He has to eat bland foods.’

  ‘Oh.’ Dani worried her lower lip. ‘We’ll work on that. You Feds, with your hours and the stress and your eating habits. It’s a wonder any of you have any functional GI tracts.’

  ‘And you medical professionals are any different?’ Decker challenged. ‘You keep the same hours and stress. And those of you who don’t abuse drugs have other vices, just like we do.’

  ‘Touché.’ She tilted her head. ‘What’s your vice, Decker?’

  He thought about it for a minute. ‘Not drugs. Or sex, or even rock ’n’ roll,’ he added with a self-deprecating shake of his head. ‘I rarely drink.’ Because in his mind he’d always see his parents, drunk as skunks, every time he took a sip of anything alcoholic. ‘Probably the work itself. Hi, I’m Griffin Davenport, and I’m a workaholic.’

  ‘Hi, Griffin,’ Triplett said from his position at the door. ‘I’m Jefferson Triplett, and I run.’

  ‘Exercise is healthy,’ Dani said, but she was studying Triplett with a clinical expression.

  ‘Not the way I do it,’ Triplett said sadly. ‘I’ve ripped up my knees and my back and I still run. I have to or I can’t sleep at night. And I’ve only been on the job a year.’

  Oh, kid, Decker thought with pity. The Bureau’s gonna chew you up and spit you out.

  ‘We’re a pathetic lot,’ Dani said. ‘I’m a workaholic too, and it’s not good for me either. I can’t drink and I take way too many drugs as it is.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘Look, since we’re all maudlin, I need to tell you both something so you’ll know what to do if there’s an emergency. What precautions to take. Or so that you, Decker, can decide if you want me to continue as your doctor. I’m HIV positive. My counts are good, my viral loads undetectable. I can be your doctor without putting you at risk. But if anything happens and blood spills . . .’

  Decker blinked at her. ‘That is the last thing I expected you to say. But, for the record, I’m totally okay with you continuing to be my doctor. Whether Triplett stays or not is up to him.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Triplett said steadily. ‘I guess we should make sure you don’t bleed then, huh, Doc?’

  Dani’s shoulders visibly relaxed. ‘That’s always a good plan. Thank you.’

  ‘No thanks necessary,’ Decker said. ‘I’m familiar with the risks and how you contract it and how you don’t. I do have a question and you don’t have to answer it, but . . . is that why you quit your job? One of the ICU nurses said that the hospital had treated you poorly.’

  ‘It became an issue,’ Dani allowed. ‘But you need to know that I took every precaution and followed every rule and policy.’

  ‘Then they were dicks,’ Triplett said matter-of-factly.

  Decker snorted a surprised laugh. ‘The kid nailed it,’ he said, and Dani’s grin broke through.

  Decker took a moment to appreciate the view. She was very pretty, but when she smiled, she lit up like an incandescent bulb. She didn’t move him, though. Not the way a certain redhead did.

  And speak of the devil. His phone picked that moment to buzz with an incoming text from a certain redhead who was on her way to him now. Decker read her message with satisfaction. ‘Seems like we’re about to have company. Kate, your brother, your cousin and some folks from the Ledger will be here in—’

  Triplett pulled his phone from his pocket and answered it, the device looking like a child’s toy in his huge hand. ‘Send them up. I’ll be waiting.’ He hung up. ‘Detective Bishop is on her way up with the Ledger guys. One’s in a wheelchair, so we need to clear a path.’

  Dani had already begun clearing away the dishes from lunch, but she stopped and stared at Triplett. ‘They’re bringing Stone? Are they insane?’

  ‘Who’s Stone?’ Decker asked.

  Dani huffed, irritated. ‘Marcus’s brother. He was shot last week. Multiple times.’

  Something clicked. ‘Stone O’Bannion? The reporter? Was he embedded with the troops a few years back?’

  ‘He was,’ Dani confirmed. ‘Did you meet him over there?’

  ‘No, but I read a few of his reports. Most of us hated reporters, but he’d served a tour or two himself. He was one of us, so we trusted him.’ One report in particular was seared in Decker’s memory forever. ‘He wrote a damn nice tribute to a group of medics who were fired on despite displaying the red cross.’

  ‘Did you lose friends in that attack?’ Triplett asked. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to pry. You just looked really . . . intense there for a second.’

  ‘Yeah, I did,’ Decker said, pushing the memory aside. He’d already cried over Shelby Lynne today. He didn’t want to risk getting all emotional about Beth, which might happen if he let himself think about her. ‘Some very good friends.’

  Dani was frowning. ‘I’m glad Stone wrote a nice tribute. But it doesn’t change the fact that he should be at home. Resting.’

  ‘He can have the bed,’ Decker said. ‘Seriously. I do not want to be in this bed while everyone else is here. Trip, can you give me a hand into the wheelchair?’

  Triplett hustled over to help him, both of them ignoring Dani giving them the evil eye.

  ‘This counts against the time you’re allowed out of bed today,’ she said, but she didn’t argue with him and for that Decker was grateful.

  ‘I have out-of-bed time limits?’ he whined – on purpose this time. ‘Gosh darn it, Ma.’

  Dani snickered and swept up the remnants of their meal. ‘Hush or I’ll take your electronics.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Decker settled into the wheelchair just as the doorbell rang. Triplett opened it after checking the security camera. Scarlett Bishop was the first to enter.

  ‘Wow,’ she said, looking around. ‘I forgot how nice this place is.’

  ‘I like your house better.’ That came from Marcus O’Bannion, who was pushing a wheelchair. He eased it over the threshold as if it were a stroller carrying a sleeping baby.

  The man sitting in the chair rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not made of glass, Marcus.’

  ‘No, but your head is filled with rocks, Stone,’ Marcus replied. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Amen,’ Dani muttered. ‘You men don’t have the sense God gave a turnip.’

  Stone smiled up at her, unperturbed. ‘I didn’t know you were going to be here, Dr Dani.’

  Decker watched the exchange, trying to figure out how Stone knew Dani Novak. These people had a tangled relationship tree, what with cousins and boyfriends and fiancées. Most likely through Deacon Novak. The man seemed to be everywhere.

  ‘I’m tending him. And his head’s harder than yours.’ Dani jerked her shoulder toward Decker, but her body stilled as the last person in the group filed in, closing the door behind him.

  The last guy could be Triplett’s twin, except he was Caucasian and covered with tattoos. And he seemed . . . dangerous when Triplett was just huge.

  Okay, Decker amended, they have nothing in common except their size. And their bald heads, shaved and shiny. Decker hoped no one shined a light at the pair, because the rest of them would be blinded by the reflections.

  The new guy didn’t crack a smile, his eyes doing a sweep of the place as if scanning for traps and attackers was second nature. Military, Decker thought. Clearly. But the moment the guy saw Dani Novak, he went as still as she had.

  Their stillness was different. Dani’s was a tread-carefully-so-as-not-to-spook-the-scary-fucker kind of stillness. The man’s stillness . . . it was the kind that made you look for the nearest exit in case he blew sky high. He was that tense, and in that moment eve
ryone in the room seemed to be holding their collective breath.

  Dani broke the silence. ‘Coach Diesel,’ she said softly. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

  The man jerked a nod, but said nothing.

  Stone sighed softly. ‘Dr Dani? The lab coat. Can you lose it?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, of course. Excuse me.’ She disappeared into the bedroom she’d claimed as her own, returning without the coat. She aimed a winsome smile at the tattooed mountain. ‘Better?’

  The tattooed mountain blushed. He actually blushed. Decker stared, fascinated, then glanced around to see if anyone else was watching, but almost everyone else was pretending to be busy. Marcus pushed his brother’s wheelchair close to Decker’s, then walked with Scarlett to the window to stare at the view. Stone was studying Decker, which was a little weird.

  Only Triplett was also watching Dani and the mountain, but his stare was one of threat assessment. He must have been satisfied, because he stepped forward, hand out. ‘Jeff Triplett.’

  ‘Diesel Kennedy,’ the mountain rumbled, his voice like an idling Harley-Davidson. ‘I work for Marcus at the Ledger.’

  ‘Come on in, Coach,’ Dani said, still gentling the big man. ‘Go meet Agent Davenport.’

  Diesel swallowed hard. Leaving Dani standing by the door, he took a seat next to Stone’s wheelchair and gave Stone a glare that dared him to say a word.

  With a roll of his eyes, Stone turned to Decker. ‘So, you up for a wheelchair race?’

  Decker barked out a laugh, then winced. ‘Ow. That still hurts. No, I think Dr Novak would be most displeased if I tried that. I’m hoping to get some pizza later if I’m well behaved.’

  Stone sighed. ‘I’d say you were whipped, but pizza sounds amazing. I’m still eating soft foods.’ His eyes sharpened. ‘How long were you undercover with the traffickers?’

  ‘I am not giving an interview, Mr O’Bannion.’ Decker softened his refusal with a smile. He hadn’t even been fully debriefed yet, although he had managed to share quite a bit with Zimmerman after they’d arrived here. Enough that Zimmerman now had a long list of follow-up items and had excused himself to the apartment’s home office to assign tasks to his staff. Unfortunately, none of what he’d remembered so far had anything to do with McCord’s partner.

  Stone sighed again. ‘I didn’t think you would, but it was worth a try.’

  ‘So I know you’re a reporter,’ Decker said to Stone, then turned to Diesel, ‘but why did Dr Novak call you Coach?’

  Diesel blushed again, although it seemed that once he was no longer in direct proximity to Dani Novak, he could actually speak. ‘I coach pee wee soccer. One of my players got hurt and was treated by Dr Novak at the free clinic. She volunteers there.’

  ‘She’s going to work there starting next week,’ Decker said.

  Diesel’s eyes narrowed. ‘Full-time? That place is dangerous.’ He twisted around in the chair to glare silently at Dani, who was oblivious to his ire.

  ‘There’s never been an incident involving free-clinic staff,’ Stone told him. ‘She’ll be fine. A couple of the cops volunteer there too. They’re good security.’

  Diesel twisted back to glare at Stone. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘She told me about the job when she stopped by to check on me after dinner last night. I figured you’d be worried, so I asked.’

  Diesel scowled. ‘It’s her business.’

  Stone rolled his eyes again. ‘Yes, it is, Diesel. Unless you want to make it yours, too. If not, then you’re not allowed to complain about it.’ He turned to Decker, leaving Diesel sputtering. ‘What do we call you, Agent Davenport? Griffin? Griff?’

  ‘Decker is fine.’

  Diesel humphed. ‘I’m not sure if Decker is better than Mr Surfer USA or not.’

  Decker’s brows shot up. ‘Excuse me?’

  Diesel shrugged. ‘I was there last week at the traffickers’ compound. I was the one who drove Agent Novak out there to help save your ass.’

  Decker pursed his lips. That Deacon Novak had stopped the bleeding after he’d been shot was a sore point. ‘I suppose I should say thank you. But that doesn’t explain the surfer thing.’

  ‘I saw you and Agent Coppola talking and I asked Marcus who Mr Surfer USA was, because you have that beach bum vibe going on, but he said you were the undercover guy.’

  Decker wondered how a civilian had known that an undercover guy existed, but he filed the question away for later. ‘I’ve been called many things in my life, but never Mr Surfer USA.’

  ‘Not that you know of,’ Diesel said wryly.

  ‘True. But I don’t remember you, and I know I would have for the tats alone.’

  ‘I didn’t stick around. Too many cops.’ Diesel feigned a shudder. ‘Gives me hives.’

  ‘Me too,’ Stone said, glancing over at Scarlett and his brother, who were standing next to the window, arms around each other’s waists. ‘Now I have to be nice to that one.’

  ‘I heard that!’ Scarlett called, not turning around.

  ‘I know!’ Stone replied, grinning when Scarlett flipped him the bird behind her back.

  Diesel shook his head. ‘Stop picking at her, Stone.’

  ‘Hey, I can’t go back to work for a few weeks and I’m having to give up sports for a few months. Picking at her is the only fun thing I have left to do. Hell, Decker here is in better shape and he just woke up from a fucking coma.’

  Decker certainly hoped he looked better than Stone O’Bannion did. The man was tall and broad, but he seemed fragile. His skin was deathly pale, his cheeks sunken. His five o’clock shadow made his face look pasty and haggard. He’d been shot the week before when one of the traffickers came into the Ledger building looking for Marcus. When he didn’t find Marcus, the man had opened fire, killing several people and critically wounding Stone. But Stone had saved the lives of several others in the process, so, fragile as he seemed, he was a bona fide hero.

  And, of course, both Stone and Kennedy had had something to do with exposing Woody McCord, which made them heroes already. They may have gone about it in a way that was a little less than legal, but Decker wasn’t going to hold them at fault.

  Not after some of the things he’d had to do.

  He shifted his gaze to the front door, where Triplett was letting Kate through. Sitting up a little straighter in the chair, he waited for her to see him, childishly pleased when she flashed him a smile.

  Behind her was a dark-haired man in a conservative suit who looked pale and . . . shaken. He stepped through the door and was greeted by Dani, who wrapped him in her arms and rocked him where they stood. Comfort, Decker understood. This would be Detective Adam Kimble, her cousin.

  ‘What’s with Kimble?’ Diesel asked under his breath. ‘He looks like his dog just died.’

  ‘He just came from ICAC,’ Decker whispered. ‘Reviewing McCord’s hard drive.’

  This statement was met with utter and complete silence – until Deacon Novak entered and closed the door behind him.

  Stone huffed in disgust. ‘Terrific. His royal freaky-eyed assness is here too.’

  Shocked, Decker nearly choked on a laugh. ‘What?’

  ‘Novak,’ Diesel explained. ‘Stone wants to hate him too.’

  ‘But I can’t,’ Stone said morosely. ‘He’s marrying my cousin, Faith. We did so well avoiding cops, and now we have two to worry about. Christmas will never be the same.’

  ‘Ah,’ Decker said. ‘That’s the connection. I was wondering how you knew Dani.’

  ‘All one big happy family,’ Stone said sarcastically. ‘Everybody’s happy but me and Diesel here. We’re about to get our asses reamed out by CPD and the FBI and we probably won’t even be able to use it in a story, so it’s a lose-lose deal.’

  Diesel sighed. �
��Don’t let him fool you,’ he murmured. ‘We didn’t know there was a partner. We’ve been racking our brains all day and we can’t figure out how we missed that. And if he’s been hurting kids all this time . . . Goddammit.’ The big man closed his eyes miserably and Decker’s heart squeezed in sympathy.

  ‘If you’d known, you’d have turned him in too, right?’ Decker murmured back.

  Diesel’s eyes popped open to stare at him indignantly. ‘Of course!’

  ‘Then you shouldn’t feel guilty,’ Decker said simply.

  ‘Easier said than done,’ Stone said flatly, and Decker realized that the man had been putting up a sarcastic front to cover his anxiety. And his guilt. ‘It’s time to face the music.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio,

  Thursday 13 August, 5.05 P.M.

  The safe house was very nice, Kate thought, glad that Decker would be able to convalesce here instead of in the hospital. The dining room table sat ten comfortably, which was a good thing, because once Troy and Zimmerman had joined them, ten was how many they had.

  Dani had excused herself to her bedroom to work on reviewing patient files from the shelter’s free clinic in preparation for her transition from volunteer to full-time staff doctor. Triplett stood at the door to ensure no one came close enough to bother them.

  Not that anyone could. Zimmerman had stationed agents at every entrance downstairs and they had been thorough, checking everyone’s ID against the list they’d been provided with.

  Everyone took a seat, with the two wheelchairs at either end of the table. They’d lined up, Kate noted with a silent sigh, in teams. She sat closest to Decker, with Troy, Zimmerman, and Adam Kimble on her side of the table. Diesel Kennedy sat closest to Stone, with Marcus on Diesel’s other side. That Scarlett put herself next to Marcus was not a surprise. That Scarlett gave Kate a thinly veiled look of warning wasn’t either, based on the detective’s reluctance to share her new beau’s secrets that morning. They’d been through a lot, Scarlett had said. Kate saw the don’t hurt them in the other woman’s dark eyes. That Scarlett Bishop cared about protecting children had never been in doubt. But she was there to protect Marcus, Stone, and Diesel, too, and she wanted Kate to know it.

 

‹ Prev