Improper Influence

by Melissa F. Miller

  Although he was a thoroughly unpleasant person, he was an excellent resource. Motivated by a desire for promotion and a diffuse hatred and jealousy of his fellow pathologists, he never held her up for more money. He took whatever cash she offered. She periodically rewarded him with vague promises of career advancement and even vaguer suggestions of sex.

  A smile spread across his face.

  “That could be arranged,” he said, his breath tickling her ear.

  Her stomach lurched with the realization that he really had killed Stone. She swallowed hard, and her mouth went dry.

  He bent his head to kiss her, and his door opened.

  Saul stood in the doorway. A sheaf of papers fell from his hand to the floor, and he stared wide eyed and pale faced at the two of them.

  “Oh, my God.” His hand flew to his mouth.

  Beside her Wally laughed softly, cruelly.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the scene to dissolve. It didn’t. She opened her eyes and stared hard at Saul.

  “It’s not how it looks,” she said, pleading with her eyes for him to understand.

  He jerked his head and bent to gather his papers with shaking hands.

  “What a fool I’ve been,” he said to the floor.

  She wrenched herself free of Wally’s grasp and knelt beside Saul, helping him pick up his printouts.

  “Saul, look at me, please.”

  He shook his head.

  She put her hand on his forearm and he froze.

  “Please don’t touch me.”

  She dropped her hand, stung.

  “Saul, we’re not involved. Wally’s been helping me with ... a project.”

  He looked at her sideways through lidded, cautious eyes. “What kind of project?”

  She threw Wally a look. He just watched them with open amusement splashed across his face.

  She hesitated. If she told Saul the truth, she was risking her career. If she lied, it meant the end of their affair. It should have been a no-brainer. She hadn’t gotten as far as she had by sacrificing professional ambition for her personal life.

  But to her surprise, her chest squeezed at the thought of losing him.

  She looked at him for a long moment. A disheveled, prematurely balding, married father of four who smelled of formaldehyde.

  “I asked Wally to keep an eye on Bodhi.”

  “Why?”

  “I was afraid he’d start digging and decide that the myocarditis deaths were related to Champion Fuel. It would cause a scandal, undo all the hard work the mayor has done.”

  “You knew?”

  If anything, he looked more horrified than he had at the sight of her in Wally’s arms.

  “No, no. We suspected. Saul, I promise you, the company was looking into it. If they had reached the conclusion that there definitely was a connection, we would have gone public immediately.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Baby, look at me? I would have insisted.”

  He clenched his papers in his fist and stood stiff-legged. He turned without a word and walked down the hallway.

  She felt tears stinging behind her eyes.

  Pull it together.

  She blinked rapidly and chased the tears back. Then she looked at Wally and weighed her options.

  It was over with Saul. But she could still save her project. She folded her heartbreak into a tiny square and crammed it away. Then she exhaled slowly and cast her lot with the psychopath standing across the room.

  “He’s probably going to tell Bodhi. Do you know where Bodhi is?” she asked.

  “I might.”

  “Fix this. Please.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Bodhi assembled the ingredients for a hearty lunch in the slow cooker he found in the cabinet under the sink and settled in with his sketchpad to draw the sparrow perched on the tree outside the living room window. He tried to capture the way each feather nestled against the next in a soft, downy coat. He turned his charcoal pencil on its side to shade the bird’s belly.

  For the third time since Sasha had gone upstairs, his ringing phone shattered the quiet. He put aside his sketch pad and pencil and hurried to answer it.

  “Yes?”

  “Bodhi?” said an unfamiliar voice.

  “Yes?” he repeated.

  “It’s Saul. I need to talk to you.”

  It was Saul, he realized. He hadn’t recognized Saul’s voice because it was high, tight, and squeaky.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes. Can you meet me?”

  “Can’t we just talk over the phone?”

  “I really need to see you. It’s about this myocarditis stuff ... and some other stuff.”

  “I’m trying to keep a low profile, Saul. I’ve got reporters hounding me.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. They’re crawling all over the building. I’ll come to your place then. This is really important.”

  “Actually, I’m staying with a friend.”

  Bodhi was about to rattle off Sasha’s address, but he stopped himself.

  He was safe at Sasha’s because no one could find him here. While Sasha and Leo were still worried about an ambush by some random stranger, he didn’t think that was a real danger anymore. His more pressing concern was trying to preserve some sliver of privacy in the wake of the interview with Maisy. If Saul came to the condo, he’d no doubt lead a pack of journalists right to Bodhi. He weighed the two risks.

  “Tell you what, I’ll meet you at the Reservoir. I’m leaving now.”

  “Thanks.”

  He ended the call and searched around for his sandals. After he strapped them onto his feet, he ripped a sheet of paper from the sketch pad and jotted a note to Sasha.

  He hoped to keep the meeting with Saul short. With luck, he’d get back before she woke.

  He dropped his phone into his front pocket and unlocked the front door as quietly as he could. He slipped silently out into the hallway and eased the door shut.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  A soft click jolted Sasha from sleep to full wakefulness.

  She opened her eyes, lifted the cat from her chest, and deposited him on the bed in a protesting ball of fur. Then she raised herself to her elbows.

  “Bodhi? Is everything okay?” she called.

  Silence.

  She sat for several more seconds and listened hard. Nothing.

  She threw back the blankets and slipped out of the bed. She smoothed her sleep-tangled hair into place as she hurried down the stairs.

  Her kitchen was empty. She scanned the rest of the first floor. He was gone.

  She pushed back a wave of irritation. It was possible he’d left with Connelly, although she doubted it. She’d have heard Connelly coming in.

  Connelly’s slow cooker sat on the counter. She peered through the condensation that fogged the glass lid. She could make out quinoa, black beans, and tomatoes. Maybe Bodhi had run out to the store to pick up an avocado. For some reason the dish looked like it called for an avocado.

  She’d asked him not to go anywhere, but he wasn’t under house arrest. She told herself that a quick trip to Trader Joe’s was almost certainly safe at this point.

  She poured cold coffee from the carafe into an enormous mug and popped it in the microwave. While the coffee heated, she stretched her back and rolled her neck, trying to wake up.

  The microwave beeped. She removed the mug of muddy, reheated coffee and leaned against the counter to sip it.

  She looked around for her Blackberry. Might as well listen to the pile of voicemails that had no doubt materialized while she’d slept. The phone sat on the small shelf in the foyer, nestled in the charging station Connelly had created for their small electronics. It was anchoring a sheet of paper.

  She pocketed the phone and picked up the paper. Bodhi had left her a note.

  Went to meet Saul. He said it’s urgent. Didn’t want to wake you. Don’t worry.

  She stared at the slanted lette
rs for a long time, willing them to change, to spell out words that weren’t so willfully stupid. They didn’t.

  She rested her mug on the counter with a bang and pulled up Bodhi’s cell phone number.

  He answered on the third ring, slightly out of breath.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m just curious, what does ‘don’t go anywhere alone’ mean to you?”

  “Hi, Sasha.”

  “Well?”

  “Listen, I’m on my bike. It’s kind of hard to pedal and talk at the same time. Maybe you could yell at me when I get back?”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m on Highland Avenue. I’m meeting Saul at the Highland Park Reservoir.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “It’s really not necessary. It’s just Saul. He’s the definition of harmless.”

  She didn’t bother to respond. She chugged the coffee and found her running shoes and a baseball cap.

  She tried Connelly’s number but he didn’t answer. She hung up without leaving a voicemail and tapped out a quick text message instead.

  Bodhi went to meet Saul in HP. I’m going to get him. No worries if we aren’t here when you get back, xoxoxo.

  She grabbed her keys and headed out the door. Bodhi was probably right. In all likelihood, Saul was harmless. But that didn’t necessarily mean that meeting him was a low-risk activity. Saul could lead someone else—someone who wasn’t harmless—straight to Bodhi, either intentionally or unknowingly.

  She jogged down the stairwell wondering if she would ever, in her entire career as a lawyer, run across a client who actually listened to her advice. She doubted it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Bodhi chained his bike to the rack and then settled on one of the wire-backed benches ringing the fountain and admired the spray of water in the center of the riotously blooming garden and, beyond it, the gentle, sloping hill and the city skyline. It was a view carefully designed to create a sense of tranquility and relaxation within the hectic noise of urban life.

  But he felt neither.

  He wanted to jump on his bike and pedal until he had to rest. Then get up and do it again.

  Maybe that’s what he would do, he thought. He’d make a fresh start somewhere new after he’d seen this mess through to whatever ending it held.

  He stared blankly at the foaming water until he heard a car approach the entry to Reservoir Drive. He glanced up and saw Saul, his pale face clenched, easing his Prius between two stone eagles that perched on high columns like majestic, twin guards to the park.

  Saul parked under the shade of a tall maple tree and paced across the entry garden toward Bodhi. His head was bent and his hands were jammed in his pockets. Bodhi thought he looked like a man weighted down with regret.

  He stood and raised a hand in greeting as Saul drew closer. Saul nodded a hello and then twisted to look over his shoulder. Bodhi followed his gaze. There was no one behind him.

  “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Saul shook his head. “No. I’ve screwed up. Big time.” He bounced from one foot to the other and then craned neck to look backward again. “Mind if we walk and talk?”

  Between Saul’s nerves and his restlessness, Bodhi suspected they could probably sprint and talk, but he just nodded his agreement.

  They mounted the wide stairs to the walkway ringing the reservoir and fell into a fast rhythm. They walked in silence for several paces.

  “I saw your interview.”

  Bodhi’d figured as much. He was fairly certain everyone at the Medical Examiner’s Office had seen it by now. He made a noncommittal hmm noise.

  Saul continued, “You just do the right thing, huh? No internal struggle for you.”

  “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

  “It’s not a jab. I guess I envy you.”

  “I’m unemployed, possibly unemployable. And basically trapped indoors. Your jealousy is bit misplaced.”

  “But I bet you can sleep at night, can’t you? You don’t toss and turn until morning, wracked with guilt.”

  And with that, Bodhi had a sinking feeling that Saul was about to confess his affair. Great.

  “I’ll sleep better once Champion Fuel’s off the market,” he said in an effort to keep the focus on public, not private, issues.

  Saul wasn’t dissuaded. “I’ve been cheating on Mona.”

  He stopped walking and turned to face Bodhi.

  “Um ...”

  “No, please just listen. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t believe it when she came on to me. I mean, what’s a hot blonde in her twenties want with a married middle-aged lab rat? And her career’s attached to a rocket. She’s a deputy to the mayor. It all seemed so unbelievable, so unreal—like a dream. It didn’t seem like it was really happening. I know that’s not an excuse,” he hurried to add.

  Bodhi waved it off. “Your mistress, or girlfriend, whatever, is a deputy to the mayor?”

  “Deputy director of economic development.” Saul spat out the words like they tasted sour.

  “You’ve been sleeping with Mackenzie Lane?”

  Saul’s eyes widened. “You know her?”

  “I know of her. She’s been instrumental in keeping everyone in the dark about the connection between Champion Fuel and the deaths.”

  “That’s her. And, I guess she’s been using me to do it. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Saul—”

  “Don’t try to make me feel better. I deserve to feel like crap. I betrayed Mona, our kids, our entire life. For what?”

  “I don’t know, Saul. I’m sure you can make things right with Mona.”

  His encouragement sounded lame and empty even to him, but Bodhi didn’t know what else to say. If Saul had dragged him out here for counseling, he’d chosen his emotional support person poorly. The inner workings of a marriage were as foreign to him as the legal theories Sasha talked about. He didn’t know how to help Saul salvage his marriage.

  “I hope so. It’s over with Mackenzie. That should count for something, right?”

  Bodhi shrugged and didn’t even try to answer the unanswerable question. “C’mon, let’s walk.”

  He matched his stride to Saul’s. They continued on in silence for several moments before Saul said, “Mackenzie was spying on you.”

  “Spying on me how?”

  “She was worried that you were going to do exactly what you did—make a connection between the deaths and Champion Fuel and then go public. So she had Wally, freaking Wally, follow you.”

  “Wally?”

  “I think she’s sleeping with him, too.”

  Saul fixed his gaze on the ground. Bodhi didn’t press him for details about the love triangle. He was trying to reason his way through the news that Wally had been tailing him.

  “But that means she knew there was a connection before I did? That’s why my files went missing, right?”

  Saul threw his hands open in a frustrated beats me gesture. “I don’t know. Mackenzie had a finger in everything. She had sources all over, in every department. Somehow, she knew. I swear I didn’t tell her. I didn’t know anything about it until you and I talked after your laptop was stolen.”

  “That was her? My laptop?”

  “Well, Wally.”

  They fell silent again, lost in their respective unpleasant thoughts about Wally.

  “She told you that Wally was following me?”

  “I walked in on them in a ... um ... compromising position. She was trying to tell me it wasn’t how it looked—that it was all business between them—that business being you.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  Saul shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think it matters. I’ve been feeling worse and worse as our affair or whatever went on. This is just the final straw. She actively interfered in the medical examiner’s ability to investigate those deaths. If she hadn’t, maybe at least one of those girls might be alive.
I’ll have to come to terms with my adultery and what it means for my marriage, but I can’t stand by silently knowing what I now know.”

  “Why’d you come to me and not Sonny?”

  Saul screwed his face into an expression of disgust and disdain, and Bodhi knew he was about to spout off about Sonny’s cowardice.

  He never got the chance. As they rounded the bend and passed by the old stone public restroom, Wally stepped out from behind the far wall. He walked directly in their path and then stopped. His posture was that of a man looking for a fight. He leaned forward, straining toward them, and bounced on the balls of his feet.

  “Fellas. Nice day for a walk.”

  Bodhi glanced sideways at Saul, who seemed to be vibrating with emotion.

  “Wally. I guess it’s too much to hope that this is just a coincidence, huh?” Bodhi said slowly, calculating how much longer it would take for Sasha to show up.

  Wally flashed a cold smile.

  Saul, his face gray, said, “What do you want, Wally? You still carrying your girlfriend’s water?”

  “Good one, Saul. Mackenzie’s not my girlfriend. Yet. But once I show her what it’s like to be with a real man, I’m sure she’ll stick around.” Wally’s smile faded and he jerked his head toward the grassy hill that sloped away from the walkway, down into the park. “Let’s talk somewhere more private.”

  “No thanks. Come on, Saul,” Bodhi said in a firm voice.

  He moved to the side to skirt Wally, and Saul followed him. Wally snaked out an arm and grabbed Saul’s collar as he passed.

  “Want to reconsider, Dr. King?” Wally asked. He hauled Saul upright with his left hand. His right arm emerged from his pocket fisted around a glinting scalpel. He flicked the blade cover to the ground in a one-handed motion and pressed the metal against Saul’s ear.

  The world began to spin more slowly. A sour tang of fear filled Bodhi’s mouth, and his throat closed.

  Saul was frozen, his eyes pinned on Bodhi, urgent and pleading.

  Where was Sasha?

  Bodhi swallowed hard and raised both hands in front of his chest, pushing against the air as though it would somehow calm Wally. “Okay, Wally. Take it easy. Sure, we can talk. That’s a great idea.”