by T. F. Walsh
“It’s Ivan. Cassie, can you keep an eye on Mandy? We won’t be long.”
Between them, he and Nikki had agreed to keep Mandy as unaware of the circumstances surrounding the reason they were here as possible. He saw the concern on Nikki’s face before he picked her up, carried her into his office, and shut the door behind them. He set Nikki down on the chair and answered the call, putting the phone on speaker at the same time.
“What’s up, Ivan? You don’t usually call at this time of day. Did you learn anything from your contact in Italy?”
“I did, and I’ve learned something from the Swiss authorities, too. Which news would you like first?
“The news from Switzerland—is it about my father or the contract?” Nikki asked before he could speak.
“Your father,” Ivan answered, and Jason could hear the seriousness in his voice.
“Let’s have it,” he said, knowing instinctively it would be what Nikki wanted.
“This wasn’t the first time your father and those men climbed together. It seems there was a cursory investigation after the bodies were recovered, but it didn’t amount to much, and the deaths were ruled accidental. Your father’s mountaineering party wasn’t the only one climbing the glacier at the time. My investigator found a climber from another expedition. The man knew your father and the men in his group well. They’d all camped together two nights before the accident. His party had been on its way down the mountain, your father’s on its way up.
“Apparently there was a loud argument between your father and one of his fellow climbers, but the man couldn’t say who it was or what the argument had been about. His guide had warned your father to be careful. The weather had changed, and the ice was treacherous. The edges of the crevasses were weak. Some had crumbled between the time they’d gone up the glacier and come back down.
“For reasons unknown, the climbers in your father’s party changed their climbing order that day. I suppose since Thomas was the largest man, making him the anchor made sense. It’s the only thing that saved your stepfather’s life.”
“Can the case be reopened?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, ma belle. I’ll continue my inquiries, and we’ll see if any evidence of wrongdoing appears. According to the man my operative questioned, it was simply a tragic accident—something every climber risks. From what I can see, Thomas never climbed again.”
“As much as I dislike him, I’d rather not think he was responsible for my father’s death,” said Nikki. “What motivation would he have? Envy? Greed?”
“We won’t know until we ask him, and I’m certainly going to add it to my list of questions,” Jason added. “What did you find out about the ring?”
Ivan chuckled. “It took some doing, but we’ve identified its rightful owner. No offense, Nikki. There was no way you could’ve known it had been stolen.”
“So Sam did steal the ring?” Nikki’s voice betrayed her anger.
“I doubt that,” Ivan answered, “but the owner may have thought he knew who did. Let me tell you what I learned. The ring has a tragic history, but as I suspected, the central stone was the key. The original ring was designed in the early part of the twentieth century by Allessandro Piccato, a famous diamond merchant in Rome. It consisted of ten red diamonds surrounding a similar square-cut stone from the Argyle mine in Australia. It was created as a wedding ring for Vincent Scarletti’s mother who died during the war. Vincent had the ring remade for his wife who was killed in a car accident just after their only child was born. The ring was given to his daughter, Carlotta, when she married twenty years ago. She had the ring redesigned to suit her, but the man who did the work is dead. One of his apprentices recognized the stone. He finished his apprenticeship before the ring was finished and never saw the completed piece.
“The ring disappeared the night of the fire in which Scarletti’s son-in-law was killed and his daughter badly disfigured. She’s spent the last twenty years in seclusion and mourning. Neither the authorities nor Scarletti ever found the person responsible for the fire. I suspect Carlotta believed your husband knew the identity of that man, and that’s why he was tortured. The contract is valid. I’m afraid the danger is very real, but whoever stole that ring may also be on The Butcher’s list.”
“Are you saying the person who hired The Butcher is a woman?” Nikki asked, the disbelief in her voice as great as his own. No way a woman could order something as vicious as this.
“Yes.”
“Ivan, I’m not doubting what you’ve said, but how would a woman in seclusion even find out about a doctor in San Francisco?”
“I don’t know, but there are newspapers, magazines, and of course the Internet. Mrs. Hart wore her wedding ring all the time, did she not? Interpol agents are on their way to the convent where Carlotta has lived these past few years. As soon as I have more information, I’ll contact you.”
“Can you get The Butcher off Nikki’s back?”
“Perhaps, but I doubt it. He’s been paid to fulfill the contract. His reputation is at stake.”
“Thanks, Ivan. I appreciate everything you’re doing,” Nikki said.
“As do I,” Jason added before saying goodbye and ending the call.
The forlorn expression on her face broke his heart. He pulled her up into his arms.
“Hey, this is good news. We have a motive now. Carlotta obviously blamed Sam for her misery and wanted to take away his happiness. She must have known The Butcher had worked for her father, so she hired him for this job. As to how she saw the ring, maybe Ivan’s right, and she reads the newspaper. You know what they say about a woman scorned. Imagine how angry she must be at the man who stole so much from her.”
“And that entitles her to do the same to me? What kind of warped world do those people live in? I may not think Sam was a good father, but I have no reason to think he’s a thief or even associated with them. Isn’t it equally possible he bought the ring without knowing its history? If that’s the case he and our son and daughter died for nothing. Until you question this Carlotta, you won’t even know if she’s the one who hired The Butcher. This may just be another dead end.”
“Don’t look at it that way.” Jason felt helpless, aware of his own role in her loss. His guilty secret would have to go to the grave with him. “We’ll catch him, and once we have him in custody, this will all be over. We’ll arrest his employer, too. My money says it’ll be Carlotta.”
“Will it? Will the nightmares end? Will knowing why she did this awful thing bring back my son and my infant daughter?”
“No,” he answered, “nothing can bring them back, but you have Mandy and you can make a new life for yourself. The Butcher is bound to make his move soon. It’s been three weeks since news that you were still alive made the paper and, at Brad’s request, Irene will hold a press conference next week saying they plan to wake you within a few days. They’d expected The Butcher to try something by now. Since he hasn’t, they’re going to force his hand.”
Nikki shivered. “I hope they get the bastard. I want this over.”
Jason placed his cheek against her hair. “So do I, Nikki. I won’t rest until that monster has been brought to justice for everything he’s done.”
He stood there holding her in his arms, absorbing her heat, praying she’d never know the whole truth about that night. He rubbed small soothing circles on her back until her breathing quieted.
A few minutes later, Nikki pushed out of his arms. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Do you know if either of the men found in the tent in Auburn wore an earring in his left ear?”
“Not offhand, but that information should be in the autopsy report.” He missed the feel of her in his arms, but he was glad she was pushing through her sadness. “Why do you want to know that?”
“I remembered something from the dream last night. I’m wondering if it was one of those men.”
“Let me call up the information you want.
I don’t remember an earring, but I wasn’t looking for one.” He quickly scanned the computer file, and while tattoos and other piercings were accounted for, there was no mention of an earring in either man’s left ear.
The information deflated her.
“Maybe The Butcher wears an earring,” he commented. “Lots of men do these days. Can you describe the man you saw in your dream?”
“I saw two—one of them is faceless, but the other is ugly, his face filled with hatred. I drew what I remembered. The sketch is in my pad.”
He picked her up and carried her into the other room. Mandy sat at the table, fully engrossed watching Cassie peel potatoes.
Nikki handed him the sketch. There was no way this man could be real, let alone The Butcher. A disfigured monster like that would be easily remembered. The bald head was crisscrossed with scars, the face distorted. In fact, the monster could easily have had a third eye among the marks on his face. The earring was the only identifiable object on the man other than what appeared to be a hunter’s camouflage suit.
“Not much help, is it?” she asked, no doubt clueing in to his thoughts from his facial expression.
“Honey,” the endearment sounded natural and felt right. “I have no doubt this is the monster you see in your dreams. If he was one of the men in your kitchen that night, I doubt we’ll identify him from this. If I recalled something that looked like that, I’d have nightmares, too.” He pulled her into his arms. “I think that monster is real to you, just as real as the angel you claim comes into the dreams and scares him away. I saw the picture you drew at the hospital. Irene said it could be me, but it isn’t. I’m no more that angel than the man in this picture can be The Butcher. A man who looks like this wouldn’t be able to come and go as he pleases. I’m sorry. I’ll tell Brad about the earring and the camo suit. It isn’t much, but every clue, no matter how small, counts.”
• • •
Nikki put away her sketch pad. She’d been drawing Mandy and Danny playing in the snow under Nathan’s watchful eye. Over the last few days, she’d made several illustrations of her daughter doing various activities. Her favorite ones were those with Jason in them, too.
“The pup seems to be managing better in the snow,” Cassie said coming up behind her. “I guess the packed snow makes it easier on him.”
“I didn’t hear you come down. Finished packing?”
“For now.” She rubbed her back, and Nikki frowned.
“Back bothering you again?”
“Yeah, and I’ve had a few Braxton Hicks contractions too. It goes with the territory, I guess. According to Nathan, it’s normal for them to get stronger in the last trimester. The baby’s due in five weeks or so, and I guess I’m just anxious. I’m starting to feel uncomfortable.”
Nikki laughed. “Let me guess. Morning sickness replaced by heartburn? I had that too.” The memory surprised her. It was the first one she’d had in days.
Cassie nodded. “I’ll be glad to get home. I don’t even have a crib ready for the baby. Jason’s arranged for Nathan to stay with me until after I deliver, and we have lots to do. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too. Who’s taking Nathan’s place?”
“I don’t know—an FBI agent, I think. He’ll come back in the car we’ll use to get to the airport.” She sniffed the air appreciatively. “What smells so good?”
Nikki, now able to get around, albeit slowly, on her own had volunteered to look after the meals. “That’s my signature slow cooker pot roast. I baked rolls, and there’s an apple pie for dessert.”
“It’s hard to believe it’s only been four weeks since you came out of that coma. You’ve made astonishing progress.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever have the control over my left hand that I have over my right—there’s not much feeling in my ring finger, and the circulation is poor. I found that out the other day when Nathan let me go outside. The same thing goes for my eye. If I close my right eye, my vision’s blurry, but with both eyes open, I can see just fine. I’ll look into getting those glasses Nathan mentioned when I get back to Larosa.”
Nikki hear Jason’s cell phone ring and looked at her watch. It was after four. She heard Jason close the door, somewhat surprised by the action. Whenever Brad or Ivan had called in the past, he’d invited her to listen in on the call. The fact that he didn’t this time concerned her.
She’d been expecting a call any day explaining what the Interpol agents had learned. She turned when the door opened.
Jason came into the room his face a mask of suppressed emotion, but she saw the muscle in his jaw jump.
“Cassie, go upstairs and wake Angie and Troy. I’ll get Nathan and Mandy inside. It looks like we’ve got company coming tonight.”
Chapter Sixteen
He leaned against the counter and waited impatiently for his meager team to settle. Nikki placed a full carafe of coffee on the table next to a large plate of cookies, but she couldn’t hide the fact that her hand shook slightly. Angie and Troy entered the kitchen and reached eagerly for the caffeine. Nathan whispered to Cassie.
“Come with me, Mandy.” Cassie reached for the child’s hand. “The grown-ups need to talk, and I have to finish packing. You can help me.”
“Are they going to argue?” Mandy asked, her lower lip trembling. “Is Jason going to yell at Mommy? Daddy always sent me up to my room when he was going to discuss with Mommy. Discuss is a grown-up word for fight.” Tears filled her eyes.
Jason hurried over to her and got down on one knee. He pulled the little girl into his arms and hugged her.
“I’m not mad at your mommy, and I’m not going to yell at her, I promise. We just have to talk about something important, and it wouldn’t be fun for you or Cassie. I’m sure if you take some of your storybooks with you, she can read them to you, too.” He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a lone tear on her cheek, and reached for a cookie.
Mandy took the cookie, nodded solemnly, ran to the sofa where she’d left a couple of books earlier, and then followed Cassie upstairs. He let out the breath he’d been holding. Neither the child nor the expectant mother needed to hear this.
A call coming in from the San Francisco bureau number had thrown him, as had hearing Brad’s clipped voice. She hadn’t said much except that the jig was up and they’d better get ready. She’d asked him to call back at a new cell number, which he’d do as soon as the team settled. He’d copied down the number. Once the team was settled, he’d make the call.
“Are you sure you want to hear all the details of what’s happened?” he asked Nikki. He’d prefer to spare her the details, but he’d promised her the truth. There’d be no other secrets between them except the one he could never reveal.
“Yes.” Her voice was firm even if her hands still trembled slightly. “My life and Mandy’s are at stake here. You said I was part of the team, so let me do what I can to help.”
He nodded, dialed the cell phone, and set it on speaker. Brad picked up on the first ring.
“Is the team there?” Her voice was edgy.
“We are, so since we aren’t going to play nice-nice, tell me what has you thinking we have unwelcome guests on the way.”
“There were shots fired at the hospital this morning,” she began. “Security found a custodian with his throat slit in one of the washrooms on the neurology floor. The guard reported it immediately, and they found a man trying to inject a neurotoxin into Nikki’s IV line. There was an altercation. He’s dead.”
“If The Butcher’s dead, that’s good news,” Jason interrupted, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. Obviously, there was something else at play here. He hated getting briefings like this, but Brad, an analyst, liked to lay out all the facts in the order she thought made the most sense.
“It wasn’t The Butcher. The man was identified quickly. His name is Joe Willis, a local hit man.”
“Damn. He sub-contracted the job. Ivan did say getting others to do his dirty wo
rk was part of the man’s MO.” Jason ran his fingers through his hair. “Has the hospital made a statement? Have they blown Nikki’s cover?”
“So far the hospital has kept quiet about it, but there has been a lot of speculation in the media. People heard the gunfire. We won’t be able to keep a lid on this any longer.”
Why? What else happened?”
“One of Dr. Marion’s nurses didn’t show up for work tonight. She’d been off for two days. When she didn’t answer her phone, I sent a couple of guys to check it out. She was home, but she’d been badly beaten, her throat slit like the others.”
Nikki gasped. “Oh my God.” Tears pooled in her eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he needed to hear the rest, so he shook his head instead, trying to convey that she wasn’t to blame. Nikki wrapped her arms around herself.
“Nikki, this wasn’t your fault,” Brad continued, voicing Jason’s thoughts aloud. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I didn’t see this coming, and I should have. A man who’s eluded Interpol for ten years wouldn’t be easy to catch. The coroner says the girl’s been dead twenty-four hours. The Butcher knew Nikki wasn’t in the hospital.”
The line was quiet. Brad’s a deep, shuddering breath was audible over the phone line. He’d heard the emotion in her voice.
“Jason, the bastard set up Willis and gave himself time to find you.”
“Even if he knew the woman wasn’t Nikki, the nurse couldn’t tell him anything, so how can he have found us?”
“He has my cell phone, the one I used to call you. He has your number, and any good tech can triangulate your location with the information on that phone.”
“What the hell do you mean he has your phone? How’d he get it?”
Jason clenched his fist, his frustration giving way to fear. His stomach roiled, and he regretted that last cookie.
“I don’t know, damn it. I don’t know!” Brad was angry, but Jason knew it was directed at herself and not him. “The cell phone was locked in a drawer in my office. I know it was. When I went to call you after I got word about the nurse, the drawer was open and the phone gone. We’ve turned this place upside down searching for it. We’re checking security tapes, but so far nothing. The techs have done what they can to deactivate the device from here, but . . . ”