by Harry Kraus
She watched his eyebrows go up. “Us?”
“You haven’t exactly explained why you left my house after dinner—”
“Uh-oh.” Phin looked in the rearview mirror. “We’ve got company.”
Tori turned to see the flashing blue lights. “Can we outrun him? We’re almost to the airport exit.”
“In this? No way.”
The whoop-whoop of a siren sounded behind them.
“I’ve got to pull over.”
“God, help us.”
36
Christian Mitchell sat in his car watching the apartment building across the street. He checked the address he’d copied from his patient’s chart. He squinted up at the old building. Kesha and Mike live up there. She said Dakota was her neighbor. Does that mean in the same building? Or the building next to theirs?
He didn’t know any other way to find the mysterious woman. He’d convinced himself it was Emily. And if it was, she was in definite need of a rescue. She’d fallen far since he’d known her. Now she appeared to be road-weary, maybe an addict. But will she remember me?
Will she even care?
He thought romantically about the escapades of their youth. What a summer! Long walks, sweet strawberries from her farm, and oh-so-delicious kisses.
His approach wasn’t well thought out. If anything, his plan was flawed by his own tendency to reach out to those who were hurting around him. He couldn’t help it. He recognized their need in their faces, in their expressions. They might not verbalize their request for help, but he could see they needed it. And he couldn’t stop himself from responding.
But will Emily want help?
Or will she resent me as an unwelcome reminder of her past?
He waited an hour, trying to redeem the time by alternating his visual scan of the area with reading a line or two from his pediatrics textbook. By six, his appetite called. There was a small grocery across the street. He left his car to get something to eat.
The store was a mom-and-pop operation. An Asian man smiled at him from behind the counter. Christian nodded and began to stroll the aisles. He selected some Combos and a soft drink, promising himself he’d eat something healthy that night.
The bell on the door of the grocery rang. He looked up to see her enter, along with Mike, his young patient. She didn’t see him at first. In fact, because he ducked behind a stand of potato chips, she didn’t see him until he was within arm’s length behind her. He called her name tentatively. “Emily?”
She turned. A reflex.
Christian nodded at Mike. “Hey, sport.”
“Hi, Doc.”
Dakota Jones shook her head and backed away. “You must have me confused with someone else.”
He squinted. The voice was Emily’s.
Now he shook his head. “Emily, it’s me, Christian.”
“My name is Dakota.” She took Mike’s arm and led him down the aisle toward the frozen foods. Away from Christian.
“Okay, Dakota,” he said, following her. “How are your parents? Do they still own a strawberry farm?”
She turned on him, glaring. She was a mother bear, fangs bared. “Get away from me, you creep.”
He held up his hands. “Emily,” he said softly. “I never forgot you. Even in Africa, I—”
“I don’t know who you think I am, but I don’t need you stalking me!”
The grocery-store owner approached. “Dakota,” he said. “Is there a problem here?”
She placed one hand against Christian’s chest and shoved. “Not if this guy backs off.”
The green eyes. He would know them anywhere.
Christian took a step back. “What’s going on?” he said. “We were close once.”
“I don’t know you!”
“Okay, okay,” he said, backpedaling up the aisle. “You look just like someone I knew.” But even as he spoke, he could see the recognition in her eyes. This was an act for Mike. For the grocer. For anyone else who didn’t know who she really was.
He paid for his items and weaved among the cars stopped at a light to the other side of the road where he’d parked his car. There, instead of eating, he tossed the Combos in the passenger’s seat and pulled out.
So much for finding my old lost love.
The officer torqued Tori’s arm behind her back and slipped her into handcuffs. “Ow!” she gasped. “Is this really necessary?”
A minute later, she found herself with Phin in the backseat of a police cruiser.
“Where are you taking us?” Phin asked the officers sitting in the front seat.
“Downtown. It seems someone wants to question the lady about a murder.”
“This is crazy. I didn’t murder anyone. I’m a doctor.”
She looked around the backseat. Trapped. No handle on the inside door. She was separated from the officers by a coarse metal sheet with diamond cutouts, almost like a thick chain-link fence.
Tori spoke again, a little louder to be heard over the racing engine. “I know Captain Ellis. He asked me to come in so that I could be protected as a witness.”
“That’s funny. An APB was issued by that very captain. Seems you knew too many details about a murder, stuff only the killer would know.”
“What are you talking about?”
The officer glanced in the rearview mirror. “Save it for the captain.”
It was awkward sitting with her hands behind her back. It put a stretching pressure on her chest. “What’s going to happen to our car? I left my medications in my bag. I need them.”
“What you need to do is stop talking.”
Phin spoke up. “She had a heart transplant. She takes medicine to stay alive all the time.”
Tori watched in the mirror as the officer rolled his eyes.
“And I asked for your opinion?”
“This position is painful. It puts pressure on my surgical wound. Can you at least cuff my hands in the front?”
“We’re not going far, honey.”
Tori and Phin exchanged looks. He looked frightened. In a moment, she watched as he closed his eyes. She understood. He’s praying.
She nodded. She needed to pray. It felt like a natural impulse, but foreign at the same time. She had little practice, but an urgency in her soul prompted her. There wasn’t time for wordiness. “Help us,” she whispered. “Help.”
Fifteen minutes later, the officers led them in to a small room, empty except for a table and one chair. Phin would have to stand.
The officers left. Tori stared at her reflection on the far wall. A one-way mirror, she imagined. Someone on the other side was cackling at her misfortune.
A minute later, Captain Ellis entered and closed the door. “Well, well,” he said, reaching for her handcuffs and unlocking them. He did the same for Phin, who immediately started rubbing his wrists. “Sorry for all that over-the-top drama. It was the only way I knew to get my boys to really pay attention and bring you in.”
“You mean it was all a game? I’m not really a murder suspect?”
He laughed. “Of course not. I told you to come in so we could get you to a safe place. You didn’t seem to be coming in on your own, so I had to bring you in myself. I can’t be responsible for your safety if you’re running all over the country.”
She looked at Phin. What to believe?
“Was Dakota Jones working for Baltimore PD?”
“What?”
“Answer the question,” she said. “Dakota was really Emily Greene, wasn’t she?”
He sighed. “Okay, sounds like you’re figuring this out. I didn’t believe your little story at first. I mean—” He hesitated. “I just found it so incredible that I wasn’t sure if you were crazy or what.” He raised his face to look in her eyes. His expression
was one of pure sincerity. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. But once I saw Dr. Jaworski’s interview, I knew that Emily’s heart was talking to us from beyond the grave.” He stood and clasped his hands together. “I became convinced that the knowledge you have could only be from our Emily. She was onto something big, about to break a real drug ring that involved the free clinic and a handful of palliative-care nurses and maybe even a dirty cop.”
Tori took a breath. A deep cleansing breath of relief. “So you know about a dirty cop?”
“We have our suspicions. I’ve had internal affairs working on this for some time.” He shook his head. “But Emily knew something that put her life in jeopardy. Since seeing your interview, we think someone may have started the fire to make it look like Emily had a reason to jump.”
“But she was thrown out, wasn’t she?”
His expression was sorrowful. His voice was soft. “We think so.” He unclasped his hands and made a ceremonial clap. “So where does that leave us? I have a dead psychiatrist, the only person who knew the truth about what Emily knew.” He paused. “And I have you.”
Phin spoke up. “In other words, she’s your whole case.”
He nodded. “I need you to tell me what you can about this number 316. Could it be an address? A combination? A locker number or something? When Emily found out that the drug ring involved someone inside the police department, she wouldn’t have known who she could trust. I think she hid information in order to keep the police from finding out.”
“I think you’re right,” Tori said, her voice lifting with excitement. “I’ve always had the impression that the number was a location—a drawer, a combination, or a locker. I’m not sure why. What was revealed on the tape?”
“Only Emily telling you to memorize this number, that it was the proof to make a bad person pay.”
“Only she didn’t say ‘bad person.’”
“I’m only being polite,” he said, smiling.
“I’m afraid I don’t remember anything else.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to have Officer Bundrick take you to a remote safe place.”
“I need my luggage from the car. It has my medicine.”
“Your car has been brought to our lot here. You can collect your things on the way out.”
Outside, Officer Bundrick helped them put their luggage in the back of a white police van. Tori looked at the seats in the back of the van, and her relief balloon started a slow leak. “We have to ride back there?”
Bundrick nodded. “Afraid so.”
Phin shook his head. “There are no windows.”
“The captain wants us to institute something he calls protective ignorance. If you don’t know where you’re going, you can’t give away your location.”
The officer held out his hand. “I need your cell phones. You won’t be able to use them where we are going.”
“I can just switch it off,” Phin said.
Bundrick shook his head. “It’s part of the protocol.”
Tori looked around the parking lot and flinched. In the last spot next to a chain-link fence sat a dark SUV with tinted windows. Just like the one in front of Phin’s house.
She dismissed her apprehension. There has to be a million of those.
She followed Phin into the back of the van and buckled up. Immediately, a feeling of claustrophobia set in. She took Phin’s arm. “I don’t like this.”
“I wish we could talk to Officer Campbell,” Phin said. “None of this is making sense.”
“What’s your gut say?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I’m scared.” She tightened her grip on his arm. “I want to know.”
“Ellis is too smooth. I think he’s on the take.”
“Phin, what’s going on?”
“One of two things,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “If Ellis is telling the truth, then we’re going to be fine and we’re protected.”
“If he’s not?”
“Then he’s getting rid of us like he got rid of Mary Jaworski and Emily Greene.”
She looked at her watch. “Let’s memorize our route. It feels like we’re turning right.”
“Okay,” he said. “And we’re in stop-and-go traffic.”
A few minutes later, the van turned left and accelerated.
That’s when Tori began to cry.
37
“Sixteen minutes in. The van is accelerating. This must be the interstate.” Tori rehearsed the turns that they had made.
Phin sighed.
“Are you feeling sick?”
“I don’t like not being able to see out.” He looked at Tori and brushed her bangs away from her forehead. “We used to have this schnauzer when I was growing up. Every time we were in the car, he hung his head out the window. And for a while when I was a kid, it seemed I was always getting carsick. My mom threatened to hang my head out the window like the dog.”
Tori pounded on the wall behind the driver. “Hey, we’re feeling sick back here.”
No response. The van sped along.
Phin took deep breaths. “I’ll be okay.”
After forty minutes, they seemed to be getting off the interstate. They came to a stop and then the travel was stop-and-go for a while.
By fifty minutes, they lurched to a stop. In a few moments, Officer Bundrick opened the back door. They exited into the moist air. Tori inhaled. There was seawater nearby. “Where is this place?”
Bundrick’s eyes narrowed. “Nice try.” He pointed at a gate in a high wooden fence. “You’re staying in the guesthouse out back.”
They walked around a massive and beautiful Cape Cod–style home with a broad wraparound porch. Fifty yards across a lush green lawn bordered by azalea beds sat a one-story guest facility. It too had a wraparound deck, connected to a pier that extended into what appeared to be a river or some sort of inland waterway. In different circumstances, it would be a place for a dream vacation, and Tori would have been excited about exploring. Instead, she gripped Phin’s arm and walked toward the house.
After a few steps, she turned back to the van. “My luggage.”
Bundrick smiled. “I’ll bring it up later. Let’s check out your new digs.”
Inside, the guesthouse was clean, decorated like a typical beach house. A seascape hung over a stone fireplace. A large glass lamp was filled with seashells. Wooden lighthouses punctuated shelves containing an array of novels and biographies. A large leather couch sat in front of the fireplace. The wood floors looked like knotty pine. The wall closest to the water was dominated by glass, with an unobstructed view of the covered pier and the water beyond.
The floor plan was open. The great room was divided by a counter topped with a deep-gray speckled Corian. On the counter, a plate of cheeses and sliced apples sat next to two wine glasses, a bottle of Merlot, and an assortment of crackers.
“I called ahead, thinking you might be hungry. Enjoy the appetizer. I’ll let the kitchen staff know you’ve arrived.” Officer Bundrick poured the Merlot, coloring each glass halfway to the top.
Tori exchanged glances with Phin. She wasn’t sure whether to relax or be on guard.
Bundrick pointed to an open door leading to the master suite. “The bedroom is in there.”
Tori looked around. “There’s only one bed?”
The officer smiled. “There’s a second one in the loft.”
She followed his gaze to a loft above the kitchen, overlooking the great room. A wooden spiral staircase led to the overlook.
With that, Bundrick handed glasses to Phin and Tori and exited toward the main house.
Phin sipped the wine. “This all looks great,” he said, shaking his head. “But I still don’t trust him. I want my phone back.”
Tori sampled the cheese and crackers and realized she was ravenous. She spoke between bites. “Mmm. This is wonderful.”
“Let’s check out the pier.”
They walked to the water’s edge. The lawn was bordered by a concrete bulkhead. On the water, a jet ski crisscrossed the wake of a larger craft. A ski boat rested on some sort of harness just above the water under the roof covering the pier.
“I’d love it if they’d let us use the boat. I’d have brought my bathing suit if I’d known,” Tori said. But even as she said it, she touched the top of her sternal scar and wondered how hideous she would look to Phin in a bathing suit with a raised pink scar diving into her cleavage.
Phin sighed and moved next to her. The sky was beginning to color. It had been a long day since leaving their hotel.
Tori leaned in against him. “Do you think the captain was telling the truth about Emily Greene? Do you think she was about to bust a dirty cop involved in a drug ring?”
“It sounded like the truth.” Phin put his arm around her shoulder. “But I don’t understand the different message he gave to Richmond PD.”
Tori yawned, suddenly aware of her fatigue. “Wow,” she said. “This wine is potent. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Me too,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips again. “Maybe I’ll crash on that couch before dinner.”
“I’m claiming the master bedroom.”
“Oh, so I get the loft?”
She giggled. Her lips were tingling.
They swayed, arms around each other, as they walked back up the pier to their new little hideaway.
“How long will we have to ss-sstay?” she said, but the words felt too heavy to spring from her tongue over lips that felt large and lazy.
Phin’s image blurred. She leaned on him, and they stumbled forward.
Inside the house, Phin tried to remove his arm from around her shoulders but knocked her head as he disentangled himself.
Tori looked at him, aware of her lowered inhibitions. She wanted to kiss him and fought back the urge to push him onto the couch.