Redemption (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  “You’d better believe it.”

  Looking around the room brought fresh hope. There was nothing sharp in the room, but they did have furniture. Between the two of them, they should be able to think of some kind of an escape plan. “We should take stock of everything that can be used as a weapon.”

  Maggie smiled. “So we really are thinking the same thoughts.”

  An opening door broke the mood. Jamie jumped and realized with some surprise she’d been about to rush whomever walked inside. Until she realized it wasn’t one of their captors. Just another hostage being pushed inside.

  A skinny, balding man stumbled in, encouraged by a shove from one of the guards. He landed on one knee, clapping the wooden floor with his hands before steadying himself and rising on shaky legs. The door closed sharply behind him. Wild-eyed, he swung his head toward the door then looked back at Jamie and Maggie.

  He blinked twice. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Jamie Jennings,” she said. “And this is Maggie Tyler. And these…” She pointed at the single bed in the room, “…are our daughters. Who are you?”

  “Anthony Howard.” He sounded annoyed and flung his gaze about, as if his situation might somehow change.

  “Let me guess,” Maggie said. “Your visit here has something to do with Mindy LePage.”

  He frowned. “I came here to check her out. Vince Allan, too.”

  The true hilarity of the situation struck Jamie then, and she laughed until her sides hurt. “Don’t you know,” she said. “This is the Hotel California. You never get to leave.”

  Chapter 60

  Earl approached Shirley’s office with trepidation. He had no idea what level of experience Shirley had with sex, and frankly, he didn’t care. He suspected, however, she might recognize the smell of passion still clinging to his flesh. He should have gone back to his room and showered, but time was running short and he needed to get on with his mission. His heart beat hard in his chest. Truth be told, Shirley scared the hell out of him. He had no idea what he was going to say when he got to her office. A good script writer would have come in handy, but improvisation would have to do. Earl stepped into the persona of Storm Jackson like an old suit, taking on the cool, in-control traits of his alter ego. He knew what he wanted and how to get it. Women wanted him. Men wanted to be him. And his enemies feared him. Transformation complete, he knocked on Shirley’s door.

  “Who is it?”

  Her falsetto voice rang through the wooden door.

  Turning the knob, Earl stilled his breathing and stepped inside. “Shirley, my dear.” He greeted her like a favorite lover. “Lovely day we’re having, don’t you think?”

  Her face, which had been wrinkled like a prune with worry lines, lit up when she saw him. “There you are, Earl. My staff has been looking for you for the last hour. Please, come in. And in answer to your question, yes, it is a perfectly beautiful day.”

  A chill raced down his spine. Her staff was looking for him? “I went for a walk in the woods. I needed time to think.”

  She regarded him carefully; a touch of concern pulled her brows together. “Oh you really should stay out of the woods. There are snakes and alligators out there. It would be simply awful if something happened to you.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “You can’t be careful enough. You really shouldn’t go there.”

  “Perhaps not.” Though he’d wager it was safer than where he was now. “At any rate, as you can see, I’m still in one piece.”

  “Of course.” The smile returned to her face, full and enthusiastic. “What can I do for you?”

  He’d considered simply asking her about Anthony’s visit, but on the walk over he’d realized something seemed off. Maybe it was the nervous hitch in Anthony’s voice, or the way one guard held him by the arm, while the other guard caressed his gun. Whatever it was, he’d decided not to let her know what he’d seen. “I was hoping I could speak with you and Dr. Belanger regarding Mindy’s treatment.”

  Her smile fled instantly, replaced with a flicker of disappointment, followed by a flash of anger, and quickly returning to the mask of professionalism she wore most often. “You understand, of course, Miss LePage’s treatment is privileged information.”

  He’d love to tell her to take her phony baloney psycho-babble and stuff it. But that would only be counter-productive and he wasn’t about to break character. “Of course, Shirley.” He gifted her with another Storm Jackson smile. “I would never expect you to do anything that wasn’t strictly legal.” Scanning the room as he spoke, he spotted what he was looking for, a mahogany filing cabinet with a small silver key dangling from the top drawer. The key hung on a key ring with three other keys of a similar size and type, and two larger ones, one of which was labeled Clinic.

  Taking small, purposeful steps, he moved in the direction of the filing cabinet while maintaining eye contact with her. “I was hoping you and Dr. Belanger could give me a summary of her progress so far.”

  She licked her upper lip. “I suppose we could do that.” She followed him in the direction of the filing cabinet. “But you realize doing so would be quite a favor. Miss LePage is not a family member of yours and Anthony Howard is her legally appointed guardian. Not you.”

  She pinched her lips together after emphasizing the last two words, and smiled like he was a mouse about to be toyed with by a predatory feline. He took two more steps, backing up against the hard wood of the filing cabinet. She wasn’t making grabbing that key ring easy for him. “I was hoping you might be so kind as to fill me in all the same.” He slid his hands behind his back, contemplating a way to grab the keys without her noticing. “Particularly since Mr. Howard hasn’t shown any interest in coming to visit or finding out about Mindy’s condition. He was barely here a day before heading back to L.A.” There. He congratulated himself on bringing up Anthony without letting on that he’d seen him.

  “You assume Mr. Howard hasn’t called me.” Her breath came in shallow quivers as she took another step forward.

  Earl tensed. “Has Anthony called you?”

  “I spoke with Mr. Howard just this morning.”

  That much he was sure of, but it was interesting how she implied he’d called. “Decent of him to finally call. How is Mr. Howard?”

  “Just fine. Quite busy with his record business back in LA.” She smiled to the point of beaming. “But I’m really much more interested in talking about your relationship with Ms. LePage.” Jealousy spilled out of her like a poisonous vapor. “What is your attraction to that girl anyway?”

  He loved Mindy. He wanted to shout it at her, right along with his knowledge of the lie she’d just spoken, but caution held his tongue. “We were close once. I feel responsible for what’s happened to her since our break-up. She didn’t take it very well.”

  “Oh. I see.” A sympathetic lilt crept into her voice. Her eyes bored into him. “I can see how you might feel that way. But you’ve come to exactly the right person to help you deal with these feelings of guilt.” She reached out, stroking his beard with her hand. “You mustn’t blame yourself, you know. We all have to take responsibility for the choices we make in life.”

  He heaved at the touch of her fingers. Without his years of acting experience he would have broken character by now. If this were an honest conversation, he’d tell her to include herself in that statement, but she wasn’t nearly as objective as she thought herself to be. And he had to get the keys without her noticing.

  “At least I understand now.” She stared at him, her hand not moving from his face. “I can definitely help you, you know.”

  He swallowed hard. “You can?” His hand moved slowly up the cabinet, but the keys were too far up. He would need to be a contortionist and a master of illusion to get the keys without her noticing.

  “I’d be happy to.” She licked her lips again, her tongue darting out as it slid across her upper lip. “I can teach you how to take control of your life. How to be master o
f your own universe.”

  The damn woman was going to try and kiss him, and there didn’t seem to be any way to stop her short of shoving her.

  A sharp rap sounded on the door.

  Shirley dropped her hand to her side, looking in the direction of the door. Annoyance flitted across her face. “What is it?”

  The door creaked open and Ryan stepped inside. “Ms. Cantwise, I really need to speak with you about-”

  “Ryan!” She whirled around, ire etched into the single word. “What have I told you about coming into my office unannounced?”

  The disruption lasted barely a second, but it was enough. Earl pulled the keys from the filing cabinet and stuffed them into his pants pocket. “It’s okay, Shirley.” He stepped off to the side, moving out of her reach, and smiled sweetly. “You go ahead and speak with your staff. I can get an update on Mindy’s condition later.”

  “But, Earl.” She reached for him, but not before he took another step away from her.

  “It’s okay,” he insisted. “We can pick this up later.” He moved swiftly out the door, breathing a huge sigh of relief. Behind him, Shirley screeched Ryan’s name so loudly she must have broken his ear drums. He chuckled. That ought to keep her busy while he searched Belanger’s office.

  Chapter 61

  “Hey, Sarge, come look at this. This make any sense to you?” Danny sat at a small, plastic and pressed-board desk, hunched over his laptop, gazing at it like it was about to levitate.

  He’d managed to return to the hotel room with a stack of student records scanned into his laptop, and Sarge was pretty damn sure she didn’t want to know how. She shielded her eyes to block out the afternoon sun, spilling through open red and gold striped drapes, and inclined her head toward his computer. “Don’t tell me you’re having technical difficulties. I don’t know a damn thing about computers, except how to turn them on and use a handful of software programs.”

  “Huh? No, no.” He shook his head. “This baby works as fine as a Swiss watch. I’m talking about the graduation information I’ve been digging into regarding Andrew Cantwise and Arthur Belanger.”

  “You mean those documents the folks at the university let you scan into that machine of yours? ‘Cause that’s the story I’m telling if anyone asks.” She got up from one of the double beds where she’d been hoping to catch a little shut eye. “Let me guess. Shirley’s brother, the patient molester, failed to graduate.”

  “Oh no. He graduated. Had himself a legitimate license to practice medicine until the State of Florida revoked it. Seems someone at the University had suspicions about the guy, and kept tabs on him all these years. Our boy Dr. Belanger, on the other hand, I finally tracked him down. He’s buried in Resurrection Cemetery. Not far from here.”

  “Buried? You mean he’s dead?”

  “Yeah.” Danny made the sign of the cross. “He was born in St. Louis on the same day as Andrew Cantwise, but died at birth. Amazing how he was resurrected in time to graduate med school.”

  “Now that is interesting. Guy must be some doctor to raise himself from the dead.”

  “Right.” Danny flicked through more screens on his laptop. “He rose from the dead three years ago when he applied for a driver’s license in Key Largo, opened a bank account and founded CRC with Shirley Cantwise.”

  “So Andrew Cantwise got himself into trouble, lost his medical license and stole the identity of a dead boy born on the same day and place as him.” She’d seen that sort of thing happen enough times it didn’t surprise her. There was no going to sleep at this point. She made her way to the half-pot of coffee from this morning’s brew. After filling a mug, she stuck it in the microwave and gave it a thirty-second zap.

  Danny gestured toward the humming microwave. “That stuff’s going to taste like spit. Why don’t you make a fresh pot?”

  “Because I’m too lazy. You find out anything else?”

  He nodded without looking away from the monitor. “I’ve got some interesting info on Shirley, too.”

  The microwave beeped and she pulled out her cup of caffeine, sucking some in. Danny was right. It tasted like spit. “You’ve been a busy boy today, haven’t you?”

  He dragged his gaze from the laptop long enough to give her a sheepish grin. “Figured I might as well pay a visit to the community college Shirley attended while I was in the neighborhood. See if they were having technical difficulties also.”

  “I’ll bet they were.”

  “Surprisingly, yes.” A mischievous smile arched across his face.

  “Right.” She laughed despite herself. “So what was Shirley Cantwise up to during her days at community college?”

  “Turning down wannabe Romeos, if she’s to be believed. Filed nearly a dozen complaints of sexual harassment against fellow students and one teacher. Professor Franklin Young.”

  “Seriously?” She laughed in earnest. “Any woman can be harassed once or twice, but a dozen times?”

  Danny shook his head. “She’s not exactly Halle Berry or Salma Hayek, is she?”

  “I wasn’t going to comment on her looks, but no. She isn’t. What happened with her complaints?”

  “The ones against her fellow students were all dismissed. The boys all denied hitting on her, and I’m betting the disciplinary board took one look at her and figured it was wishful thinking on her part.”

  “Danny, you are bad.”

  “Only sometimes.” He winked. “Anyway, the teacher not only denied hitting on her, he said she was the one harassing him. Said she came early to class, hung around afterward peppering him with questions, called him at home all the time, ostensibly with questions about his assignments and even showed up at a restaurant once where he was having dinner with his girlfriend.”

  The woman was off-balance. She’d guessed as much. “What was the outcome on that complaint?”

  “Nothing. The matter was dropped after the guy died in a car accident.”

  “How convenient for her.” She paused, her cop radar switching on. “If it was an accident.”

  “Good point. Let me see what I can pull up on the guy’s car crash.”

  Sarge grabbed the remote, relaxed onto the bed and clicked on the TV. A weather report splayed across the screen. Danny turned his attention back to his laptop and began pulling up police reports from the State of Missouri.

  “Danny,” Sarge said quietly. “We have to get back to Key Largo.”

  “No shit.” His gaze fixed on the monitor. “According to police reports, Professor Young’s death was ruled a homicide. The brake lines on his car were cut, and they never found the culprit. Seems they considered Shirley suspect number one, but brother Andrew claimed she was home all night with him.”

  “That’s not the only reason we need to get back to Key Largo.”

  He looked up at her, confusion wrinkling his brow until he saw the TV broadcasting news of Hurricane Phoebe. “Shit. Has anyone heard from Nick?”

  “Not since he phoned the office four days ago.”

  “But it says they’re evacuating Key Largo.”

  “I know. Which makes not hearing from Nick even more suspect.”

  Danny pulled out his cell phone.

  “Who’re you calling?”

  “Jamie. I want to find out what the hell’s going on over there.”

  After going to voice mail four straight times, Danny put the phone down and began throwing clothes into his suitcase. “There’s something seriously wrong.”

  Sarge pulled her suitcase from the closet as well. “Remind me never to let Nick and Jamie go to Key Largo again.”

  They finished packing in silence. She could think of half a dozen explanations why they couldn’t get in touch with Nick or Jamie. And none of them were good.

  Chapter 62

  His get away from Shirley had come none too soon. Earl rushed to the clinic. He was either a better actor than he thought, or Shirley was so hot for him she couldn’t read his distaste. She’d come so close to attempting a
kiss he still felt ill. He expected her to come chasing after him at any moment, having dispatched with Ryan. But a moment later he rounded the corner and exhaled a sigh of relief. He was still alone. Pulling the stolen keys from his pocket, he turned the one labeled clinic in the lock and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

  Sunlight streamed through open blinds on the far side of the room, giving him plenty of light to see without turning on a light and alerting anyone to his presence. The clinic contained an examining table, covered with a paper roll, a chair, a stool and a metal swivel lamp, pushed in front of the sink. Glass-fronted cabinets contained various medical supplies and medicines. He knew the cabinets would be locked, but a quick tug on each confirmed as much. Ryan couldn’t have stolen any drugs from the clinic without keys. And Shirley struck him as too much of a control freak to simply let them go missing. He’d only gotten them because she’d been busy trying to ambush him with her lips.

  Earl moved through the clinic to an office partitioned off from the rest of the room by a glass wall. Sunlight burst through the glass wall here as well, reflecting off chrome and wood furniture. Belanger kept his office neat as a pin, not a scrap of paper left unattended on the desk. The wall boasted a framed medical diploma. The desk contained only a computer monitor and keyboard. It was like everything else at CRC; sparse and clean. Containing only the bare necessities and void of any real personality. Well good. That meant his office would be easy to search, without any useless clutter to sift through.

  Hard to say what he was looking for, but there had to be something in Belanger’s office to prove the folks at CRC were up to no good. He started with the desk, surprised to find the drawers unlocked. Their contents, however, yielded nothing of interest. Pens. Paper clips. Tape. A pair of scissors. A stapler and two boxes of staples. Some blank sheets of copy paper. Nothing that mattered. Earl scanned the book case and its rows of medical reference books. He even pulled a couple off the shelf, opening them and flipping through the pages. Nothing fell out. The desk was a bust, and so was the bookcase. That left the filing cabinet.