“What can I do for you?” And why was he calling?
“Bad news. Ms. Oakes was beaten up this morning by another inmate and has been sent to the hospital.”
What the hell? “How bad?”
“Must be pretty bad. They said no visitors.”
“Her sister will go nuts.”
“That’s why I called you.”
“Find a way to get Sky in to see her sister and get back to me. Now.”
“I’ll do what I can, but no promises.” The attorney hung up.
Sonofabitch. Had Dory gotten caught in one of those altercations that occurred all the time in jail? Or was it something more sinister?”
His stomach clenched into knots.
He dare not keep the information to himself, so he went down the hall to tell Sky. She lifted her head and looked at him with questions in her eyes when the door opened.
“What?” She came to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
“How did you…?”
“You’re pale and I don’t like the look in your eyes.”
“Sit down, Sky.”
“I’ll stand.” She crossed her arms over her chest and held on tight.
“Your sister had a confrontation this morning with another inmate. She was beaten and is in the hospital.”
Sky sat down. Hard. “What happened? Will…will she be all right?”
“Her attorney didn’t have much information. He’s trying to get the authorities to let you in to see her. Right now she has a no visitors allowed order in place.”
Sky stood, grabbed her bag, and raced past him. “Will you take me to the hospital?” She stuck her head in Marshall’s office. “Will you take care of Sully?”
“It may be a wasted effort if they don’t let you in.”
“At least I’ll be there. Will you take me or will I have to call a cab?”
Knowing Sky would do just that, he acquiesced. “Five minutes. I want to see if I can get more information.”
He didn’t get much, but thirty minutes later, they walked up to the door of Dory’s room at the hospital. A deputy sat in a chair outside her door.
Sky barely looked at him before heading in.
The deputy stood, his hand going to the gun on his hip. “Sorry, ma’am, you’re not allowed in the patient’s room.”
“I’m her sister. I want to see if she’s all right.”
“You can check with her doctor. He just left.”
Sky looked back over her shoulder. “Do you see a doctor?”
“At the desk. Why don’t we check with him?” Dirk gestured down the hall.
“Fine.” When she got to the nurse’s station her voice was calm, but determined. “My sister was brought here from the county jail. I want to know about her injuries and I want to see her.”
There was no yielding in her voice.
A man in a white jacket turned to her. “I’m Doctor Brown. Your sister will be okay. This was just a precaution on the part of the authorities. They wanted to make sure there were no broken bones.”
“Were there?”
“No, but she’ll have a sore jaw and a couple of black eyes. Whoever attacked her banged her head against the wall. Luckily, she doesn’t have a concussion. She’ll be fine in a day or two.”
“Then why was she brought here?”
“Your sister passed out for a couple of minutes. County does this whenever that happens.”
Sky reached out to hold onto the desk. Was she going to faint? Dirk stuck out a hand to steady her.
She didn’t notice. “I want to see her.”
“I’m sorry. Orders.”
A short man in his late fifties or early sixties in a black suit and red tie came toward them, his dark brown eyes taking in the situation with a glance.
When the man reached the desk, he looked at them. “Are you Sky Chapman and Dirk Browning?”
Dirk reached out his hand. “Dirk Browning. You must be Jacob Harrod, Ms. Oates’ attorney.”
“I am.”
“I intend to see my sister,” Sky told him. “Now.”
He held up a piece of paper. “After talking to Mr. Browning, I exerted a little pressure. You can see her for a few minutes.”
“I want to hear what she has to say,” Dirk said. “What she tells us may be instrumental to her case.”
“If the deputy doesn’t look at this paper too closely, just walk in with Ms. Chapman. We’ll see what happens.”
When the deputy saw the three of them coming toward him, he stood. Harrod handed him the paper. The deputy glanced at it and frowned. “They told me not to let anyone in except hospital personnel.”
“There’s always an exception.” The lawyer paused as the deputy read the order. “I’ll wait out here while you go in.” He nodded at Sky and Dirk, turned and smiled at the deputy. “How long have you been a deputy?”
“About six months, sir.”
“Do you like it?”
The questions continued as both Sky and Dirk entered the dimly lit room.
Sky approached the bed. “Dory,” she whispered. No response. “Dory. Can you hear me? It’s Sky. I came to check on you.”
Dory groaned and turned over. “Sky?”
The word came out garbled. As if she could barely talk.
“It’s me, Dory. I came as soon as I found out. Do you hurt?”
“Like hell.” Dory put a hand to her head. “Somebody beat the crap out of me.”
“Do you know who did this?”
Dory started to shake her head. Moaned instead. “One minute I’m walking out of the bathroom and the next some bitch has me against the wall beating my head against it.”
“Did she say anything?” Dirk had a bad feeling about this.
“She said she’d kill me next time if I didn’t turn over the numbers. What was she talking about?”
It was just as Dirk suspected. The killer/thief had gotten to Dory in prison. “It’s about your case, Dory. I’m going to talk to your lawyer, he’s right outside, but can’t come in. I’ll see if he can get the authorities to keep you separated from the rest of the inmates. It’s clear you’re not safe.”
Neither was Sky. He looked at her—at the shock and concern on her face, the fear. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Sky loved her sister.
And they were both in danger.
Chapter Seventeen
Sky’s knees were so weak she had to hold on to the bedrail to keep from falling. Dory could have died. How could they keep her safe? Who was insane enough to do this? She kept her composure by sheer willpower, her knuckles so tight on the bedrail they turned white. How could her sister—the perfect daughter, be in this situation? It was surreal.
Dory may be self-centered; after all, everyone in her life had catered to her, but she didn’t deserve this.
Sky bent over and kissed Dory’s forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
Dory grabbed Sky’s hand. “Please, Sky. Make this right. I’m going to die if I don’t get out. If whoever ordered this attack can’t find the money, they’ll kill me in jail.”
Her voice was a mere whisper. Sky doubted Dirk, standing next to the bed, heard her. “We won’t let that happen. Tell me who did this to you.”
There was a quick knock on the door before it opened. A nurse stuck her head in. “You’ll have to leave. The patient needs her rest.”
“One more minute,” Sky begged.
“One.” And the nurse shut the door.
Sky squeezed Dory’s hand. “Please, Dory, if you know who did this, tell us.”
“I never asked her real name. From my first minute in that place I’ve tried to avoid the other inmates. They’re criminals and they frighten me. They call her Big Bertha. She’s big, mean, and ugly, and I was scared to death of her. Please don’t tell them I told you anything. She’ll find a way to finish what she started.”
Sky looked at Dirk who nodded. “We’ll keep this to ourselves. Dirk and his team are working the case and I’m doing all I can. We’ll get you ou
t of here.”
“Promise?”
Sky gave Dirk a worried look. “Promise. Now get some sleep so you can heal. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.” Dory turned over and shut her eyes. “I love you, Sky.”
“I love you, too. Get well.”
Sky held it together when they walked out of Dory’s room. Held it in while Dirk had a short conversation with the lawyer, held it in until they were at the truck, and Dirk helped her inside.
Then her defenses broke and the tears she’d fought since they got there ran down her cheeks. Dory wasn’t safe in jail—she wouldn’t be safe out of jail.
The knots in Sky’s stomach tightened. Neither of them were. She was well aware of how many were hurt or killed for money. Headlines shouted it almost every day. To her, it didn’t make sense. She dealt with dollars on a daily basis and other than putting aside enough so she wouldn’t have to struggle when she aged, money was nothing but figures on paper. She couldn’t fathom anyone committing murder for dollars even though so many others could and did.
Whoever took Steel’s millions wouldn’t stop until the stolen money was in his or her hands.
Seeing her sister in the hospital bed, her beautiful face a roadmap of bruises and abrasions, made Sky’s anger turn to rage. “We have to do more to keep her safe.”
They had to find the killer. Nothing else would work. Only now they had to work harder. Faster. “It’s obvious the killer is getting desperate.”
“Her attorney will make sure she stays out of the general population.”
“Dory will go crazy. She’s accustomed to people. Friends. She’s always had to have people fawning over her, praising her.” Sky put her head in her hands. “Dory will never be the same.” She looked up. “We have to do something.”
She was sounding hysterical, but couldn’t hold it in. “This man, whoever he is, is evil and insane. No one could do something like that to another person otherwise.”
“You’re probably right.”
Dirk pulled up at the office. “Continue to check the contents of the flash drive. Maybe you’ll find something that will help.”
“What are you going to do?”
He opened the door. “See you safely inside. Then I’m going to set up surveillance on both Steel and Cherise. Let’s see if either one makes a wrong move.”
“Good idea.” She climbed out of the truck and headed inside.
****
Dirk looked around for anyone or anything suspicious. There was no one lurking in a car—no one watching them at all that he could see. He hoped it meant Sky’s location was still safe.
He followed her inside. He liked the view. Sky filled out a pair of jeans perfectly. When her hips swayed his mouth went dry. The woman was enticing as hell. But he wasn’t here to admire the view. He was on the hunt for a killer. The same as when the SEALs were on a mission in Afghanistan to find the Taliban.
This mission would succeed, he vowed. He was convinced now of Dory’s innocence. She wouldn’t have been beaten if she had hidden the money herself. His concern now was for the safety of both the sisters.
When they reached the office and Sky hurried to the small space they’d given her, she turned at the door and gave him a look that spelled both determination and fear before she disappeared inside.
Dirk went to his office and picked up the phone to make surveillance arrangements. He would cover Cherise during the lunch break, after which Joe would take over. He made three calls that would make sure Steel was covered. He’d keep at it for a few days and see where it went. Ducking into the break room, he scrounged around for a leftover donut, but the box was in the trash. He’d have to do without.
He knocked on Sky’s door. “I’m going to have both of our suspects followed for a few days and see if they lead anywhere. I’ll watch Cherise for a while. I know she’s at the office, but she goes to lunch. I’ll be back by five. Don’t go out.”
“Do you always bark orders?”
“Sorry. Please don’t go out. It’s too dangerous. Buster will order in lunch.”
She gave him the look, ducked her head, and began pounding the keys on her computer once more. After telling Buster the plan, Dirk headed out, his gaze sliding once more to Sky’s closed door.
He wondered at his feelings. Sky was a stranger, yet he felt he knew her. She could make him hot with a look. A touch set him on fire. This had never happened before and it left him off-kilter. Plus, he’d never had to pursue a woman. They were always there. Of course that was before he’d lost most of an arm.
Working with the dogs and the PI practice kept him too busy to think about women. Coop had been the same until Lanie came along. The family was happy for him, loved Lanie, and adored little Maggie.
Would he ever have what Coop had?
Would he be that lucky?
Sky’s dark, questioning eyes popped into his head.
Not in a million years. The woman was smarter than him by a mile. She was accustomed to living in a nice condo in the better area of Houston. She’d never be happy in the country.
And he’d never be happy anywhere else.
He heaved a deep sigh of regret as he looked for a parking space. They weren’t easy to find in downtown Houston. Finally, a space opened up almost in front of Steel’s building and Dirk parked. Looking at his watch he realized it was almost noon. Had Cherise left already?
He punched Carrie’s number. She answered immediately. “You’re not supposed to call me at work.”
“Are you alone?”
“At the moment. I’m in the break room with an apple and a piece of cheese.”
Dirk’s stomach growled. “More than I have. Has Cherise left for lunch? I’m putting surveillance on her and Steel.”
“She’s waiting for me to get back to my desk.”
“Then eat faster. I’m taking the first shift. Do I have to say more?”
“I’m headed back. Good luck.”
“Yeah, good luck. The way this case is going, I’ll be lucky to learn anything.” He realized more and more that he’d have to rely on either Sky or Carrie to come up with clues to end this.
Five minutes later, Cherise walked out of the building. He sat up straighter, watching closely as her hair blew around her face in the light breeze. Which way would she go? He watched until she was a block away before he got out of the truck to follow her.
If she picked up lunch and headed back to the office, he would forget the surveillance until five when she got off work and let Joe take over. She kept up a brisk pace for the next few blocks until she stopped at a women’s dress shop. Was she going shopping? Was he wasting his time?
A tall guy in jeans and T-shirt sauntered over and tried to give her a hug. She shook him off. Who was he? When Dirk was close enough to hear what they were saying, he pretended to look in the window of a leather goods store. “I told you the last time I wasn’t giving you more money.”
Had she hired this guy to kill Martin? Or did she owe him money for another reason? It would be up to Dirk to find out.
“I need it.”
“You always need it. Is this going to go on forever?”
“You know better.”
“Do I? If this doesn’t come to an end, I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.”
She handed him an envelope. The guy grinned.
“This is it. Don’t ask for another dime. This bank is closed.”
The man laughed. Cherise’s face flushed.
She turned on her heel and walked toward Dirk. He ducked his head and became very interested in the leather travel bags in the window. He needn’t have worried. Cherise was so upset she almost ran back toward the office.
When she was a safe distance away, he turned to see that the guy was headed in the opposite direction. Dirk followed.
They walked six blocks. The storefronts became less upscale. A shoe store advertised a sale with a BOGO sign six feet high. At a pawn shop a young guy dressed in a green jumpsui
t waved for people to come in and get cash for their watches, gold and silver, or whatever else they had to sell. No one seemed to be taking him up on the offer.
They passed a low-budget 24/7 gym catering to beefy guys with huge biceps and muscles to spare. There would be no spandex-clothed cuties here.
Finally, the guy walked into a bar. Good. If the man drank enough, maybe he’d talk. Dirk gave him a five-minute head start before stepping inside.
The lights were dim, the music loud. The smell of beer and old sweat made him breathe through his mouth. It didn’t help.
He went to the bar and ordered a club soda with a twist. When the overweight bartender, who looked to be in his mid-sixties, brought it over, Dirk told him to continue to serve him the same no matter what he ordered. The guy raised an eyebrow. “No matter what I order. Got it? I’m an alcoholic, but I’m meeting a friend. Just being here is temptation enough.” Not true, but he had to keep his senses clear.
“Gotcha. But, considering the big favor, your drink is going to be a little pricey.”
Dirk shrugged, turned and found Cherise’s friend sitting in the corner. Dirk walked over and sat down across from him. On the table sat a bottle of beer and a shot glass of whiskey.
The guy looked at him closely, his dark eyes full of suspicion. “Do I know you?”
“Probably not. But I know someone you might know.”
Dirk took a sip of his drink. The guy was older than Cherise. His face was lined, his eyes bloodshot. The guy was a drinker. What else was he?
“Who’s that?” The guy’s tone was slightly belligerent, as if he was not at all sure about what to do with Dirk.
“Cherise Prince.”
The guy sat up straighter. “You know Cherise?”
“Yeah!”
“You one of her fellas?”
Dirk shrugged. Not a yes or a no.
The guy laughed, tipped the shot glass to his mouth and emptied it before taking a sip of beer. “If you think a good word from me will help you, think again. She pays no attention to what I say.”
“One can only hope.” Dirk put on a face he hoped was both leering and expectant.
“Name’s George.” The guy put out his hand.
Dirk was glad he’d worn his prosthesis, but kept his left hand in his lap when they shook. “Harry.”
Wounded at Home Page 14