Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3)

by Andrew Peterson

  “Would you like something to drink? There’s a refrigerator in the back help yourselves. If you need it, the bathroom’s right around the corner.”

  “Thanks, Doug.”

  “This may not take long.”

  “Can I watch?” Lauren asked.

  “I think that’s a question for your uncle.” Doug looked at Nathan. “If Lauren’s presence has a comforting effect, she could stay until Abrille is sedated, but not after that.”

  “I think it’s best if we let Doug do his job without him having to worry about us.”

  Doug turned, then stopped. “Abrille will need follow-up care. Do you have something arranged?”

  “Yes. Special Agent Grangeland’s on her way.”

  “I remember her.”

  Nathan smiled. “Most people do.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. Holly was right, he needed some rack time, but dozing off in front of Lauren wasn’t a good idea. His recurring nightmares could be a problem. She’d have to be formally warned about the danger of waking him. At his La Jolla home, she’d awakened him from a light sleep, so it hadn’t been dangerous. Harv often joked about using a ten-foot pole to wake him, and unfortunately, that humor had roots in the truth. If Nathan were to enter REM sleep, waking him suddenly could have catastrophic results. Before he’d met Holly, one of his first attempts at having a relationship with a girlfriend had ended badly. Even though Nathan had warned her to wake him from a safe distance, she’d given him a little shake and ended up in the hospital with a dislocated shoulder and two broken fingers. The emergency-room scene had been awkward at best, downright humiliating at worst. Despite his girlfriend’s insistence that Nathan hadn’t done it on purpose, no one believed her explanation. They just assumed she was another battered victim who was protecting her abuser. And Nathan’s scarred face only made things worse. He’d never forget the looks of contempt from the emergency room’s staff. Despite pressure from the attending ER doctor, his girlfriend hadn’t pressed charges because she knew Nathan hadn’t intended to hurt her. A week later, he’d gotten a “Dear John” email.

  Holly had said she’d take care of the call to Grangeland, but he tapped her number from his contacts list and got dumped into voice mail she was probably on the phone. He left her a message supplying her with Doug’s address and also told her he was lying down for a catnap. She’d know not to call.

  “I’m going to get some shut-eye in one of Doug’s examination rooms. Are you okay out here for a spell?”

  “You can’t sleep out here?”

  “Again, let’s just say it’s complicated.”

  “It’s your nightmares, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Just knock on the door and make sure I’m awake before anyone comes in. Tell Doug to knock, okay?”

  “Why hasn’t my mom called?”

  “I’m sure she’s okay. Try not to think about it.”

  He left the waiting room for some much-needed rest…

  And awoke with a start. What the hell was that sound? There it was again. Knocking. He looked around, quickly orienting himself.

  “I’m awake.”

  He glanced at his watch. Only twenty-five minutes had passed. He got up from the floor, stretched, and opened the door. Dr. Reavie greeted him.

  “How’s Abrille? Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she doesn’t have sepsis, like I suspected, but she does have an infection in her abdominal wall. I’ve got her on sulfa antibiotics, and I don’t think she’ll have any problem recovering, so at this point she doesn’t need to be transferred to Pomerado.”

  “Well, that’s good news.”

  Doug’s expression remained serious.

  “What is it?” Nathan asked.

  “You aren’t going to believe what we found.”

  Episode Six

  Chapter 24

  Doug handed Nathan a small Ziploc bag.

  “Tell me you’re kidding,” Nathan said.

  Ten beautifully cut gemstones sparkled in the fluorescent light.

  “Alexandrites,” Doug said. “And nice quality.”

  “Incredible.”

  “I found them just beneath her Scarpa’s fascia, a fibrous layer in the fat. They were probably aligned along the length of the incision to look less obvious.”

  “That makes sense. I hadn’t noticed anything other than the staples.”

  “The swelling helped hide them as well. Abrille has low body fat on her abdomen, which could explain why they were under the fascia but not as deep as the muscle. But anyone with medical knowledge would’ve been able to feel them just like I did when I palpated the area. Linda’s putting on the bandages right now. I had to close the wound loosely because the infected tissues may need to drain, but if the scar doesn’t heal nicely, I can revise it later.”

  “So you think Abrille’s going to be okay?”

  Doug nodded. “Even though the wound was purulent and inflamed, the infection was localized to the subcutaneous fat and Scarpa’s fascia. It didn’t extend to the deep fascia. I irrigated it with antiseptic solution, and it looks pretty good. I think with the combination of cleansing it well, the antibiotics, and her youth, Abrille should make a full recovery.”

  “That’s great news. Do you think this wound was created solely for the purpose of implanting these gemstones?”

  “In my opinion, yes. She probably got the infection because one or more of the alexandrites wasn’t properly sterilized.”

  “She’s a human courier,” Nathan said under his breath. He poured the gemstones out of the Ziploc onto the examination table and removed the paper from his pocket.

  “Doug, help me out here. Take a look and tell me what you think.” As he spoke, Lauren entered the room and stood near the door. “We can ignore the fourth column — it’s a set of GPS coordinates. If we assume each line represents one of these alexandrites, what do the numbers mean?”

  “Maybe the carat weight for each stone?” Doug asked. “They look like they range in size with the list.”

  “Agreed,” Nathan said. “What about the second number?”

  “I’m not sure. Diamonds are graded with the four Cs. It might have something to do with grading.”

  “Are alexandrites graded like diamonds?”

  “I don’t know, but I suppose they could be.”

  Nathan tapped his memory. “Cut, clarity, carats…and…I can’t remember the last one.”

  “Color,” Doug said.

  “Can I see?” Lauren asked.

  Nathan motioned her over. “We’re trying to figure out what the second numbers mean.”

  She pointed at the gemstones. “Those were inside Abrille?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan handed Lauren his phone. “Could you look online for a short description of alexandrite, something that gives us an overview?”

  She began tapping away.

  “Their color changes,” said Doug. “Under the OR lights, they were a bright reddish orange. In here, under the fluorescents, they’re a dark emerald green. It’s a beautiful color.”

  “Lauren, can we see your ring?”

  She pried if off her finger and handed it to him. Next to the others, its emerald color appeared to be a flawless match. It was a good bet the stone in Lauren’s ring came from the same mine.

  “I’m certainly no expert on the subject,” Doug said, “but I bet the amount of color change is the primary factor in determining value. Size, cut, and clarity would be considered, but color change is probably the most important….”

  “Okay,” said Nathan, looking back at the list. “So what do you think?”

  “The number next to the weight could be the percentage change in color.”

  Nathan thought about it for a second. “So if the number was one hundred, the stone would turn from pure green to pure red?”

  “Yes. If I’m not mistaken, red and green are complimentary colors.”

  “They are.” Lauren looked up from Nathan’s phone. “We learne
d the color wheel in school. The other pairs are purple and yellow, and blue and orange. If you try to mix them, they turn an ugly gray color.”

  Doug nodded. “It could explain why the same number appears on more than one line. If that’s the case, then these alexandrites come pretty close to a complete spectral change in color. The lowest number is eighty-five percent. That probably makes them very rare and expensive.”

  “Okay, I found something,” Lauren said. “Should I read it to you? It isn’t, like, real long or anything.”

  Nathan made eye contact with Doug and offered a barely perceptible smile. “Sure,” he said.

  “Okay, here goes. Chromium gives alexandrite its color. In most minerals, a trace element like chromium would provide only one color to the mineral, but in alexandrite it produces two. Coloring agents are dependent on the wavelength of light and the chemical bonds in the crystal to determine the color that they will cause. An element like copper in normal light causes a green color, like in mal-ah…ch — ?”

  Nathan helped her. “Malachite.”

  “Oh, thanks.” She continued: “…and a blue color in…ah-zur-ite. Did I say it right?”

  “You were close. It’s azurite.”

  “Okay…and a blue color in azurite. It all depends on the character of the chemical bonding. In a single specimen of alexandrite, the chromium is in such a balanced state that the color of the specimen depends on the character of light that hits the crystal. If the light is natural sunlight or fluorescent light, the crystal will be green; however, if the light is incandescent light from a common indoor lightbulb, then the crystal will appear red.”

  “I’m impressed,” Doug said. “You read very well.”

  Lauren smiled. “I practice with my mom a lot.” Her face clouded for a few seconds.

  Nathan knew she didn’t want to cry in front of Doug, so he reached out and held her hand. “What about the third number?” Nathan asked.

  “Tougher call, but I’d guess it’s the fifth C.”

  “The fifth C?”

  “Cost. All four Cs determine cost.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Doug nodded.

  “Then the third number is probably the dollar amount in thousands. So the biggest alexandrite is worth $150,000?”

  “I don’t think so,” Lauren said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because my mom said this ring is worth $290,000, and it’s about the same size as those bigger ones.”

  “Cost per carat,” Doug said slowly.

  “Oh, man, then we’re looking at a small fortune. Doug, can you get a calculator?”

  “Your cell phone has one,” Lauren said.

  “We’ll need a running tab.”

  “I’ll get a pen and paper.” Doug left the examination room and returned momentarily.

  “I’ll give you the numbers,” Nathan said. He multiplied 1.53 by 50,000 and said, “76,500.” He did the same thing on the next line: “98,400.”

  Half a minute later, Doug read back all the numbers so Nathan could total them.

  “If we’re right about this, then Abrille had $1,872,650 worth of gemstones embedded in her body.”

  “Seriously?” Lauren asked.

  “The evidence doesn’t lie. Lauren, it’s really important you never mention anything about Abrille or Dr. Reavie to anyone. I don’t want anyone to know we were ever here.”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  “I’d better go see how our patient’s doing,” Doug said, and left the examination room.

  “Lauren, it’s fairly obvious Voda’s been using these girls to smuggle alexandrites. Did you ever hear your mom talk about Bolivia?”

  “No, never.”

  “Why would Abrille need to speak French?” Nathan asked, more of himself. Abrille had told him the other girls were also being taught French because they thought they were being adopted as well. Maybe their final destination was France or a French-speaking country. If that were true, then why were the border murder victims found in the mountains of East San Diego? It didn’t make sense. Why teach the girls French if they weren’t going to use it? The most reasonable explanation seemed to point toward a horrible deception — that the girls were being adopted, rather than used as human couriers and then discarded. Nathan wondered why Voda would use them like this in the first place. Couldn’t a smuggler simply carry the gemstones through airport security in a carry-on? It probably had to do with passenger screening. If a carry-on bag were searched, the gemstones might be discovered. And if an attempt were made to hide them — like in the lining of the bag — it would cause suspicion among airport security and might even lead to the smuggler’s being detained for questioning.

  Having filled out US customs paperwork many times, Nathan knew that items over a certain dollar value had to be declared. Using the girls as couriers, Voda left no paperwork trail, paid no duties or taxes, and eliminated the need to trust adult couriers with his precious cargo.

  It seemed unlikely that the coyotes had known about Abrille’s payload, with the possible exception of the third man, who’d appeared from the bathroom. He’d looked different from the coyotes, more formal and measured. Clearly, he hadn’t been one of Voda’s men, because if he had, there would’ve been no need for the paper containing the GPS coordinates. If true, that meant that Voda’s actual possession of the alexandrites started once the gemstones arrived in the United States. If the coordinates were used to protect whoever was supplying the gemstones, then Abrille’s location was probably released upon receipt of a payment — likely the final payment. That might also explain why Voda was willing to pay so much to recover the paper containing Abrille’s location — he’d already made the final payment for his purchase.

  The more Nathan thought about this human-courier scheme, the more perfect it seemed. A nondescript man traveling with a young girl wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention, especially if they both possessed a valid passport and shared a last name. The metal detectors might discover the staples, but signs of recent surgery wouldn’t look suspicious and might even elicit sympathy. And the gemstones wouldn’t trigger metal detectors. Transporting the alexandrites inside the girls also ensured absolute possession and control — a cruel but effective smuggling technique. And even more cruel, when the gems had been extracted, the girls would be murdered and discarded — known only as the latest border murder victims.

  Nathan made a mental note to mention to Holly: the previous border murder victims should be examined for an incision like Abrille’s — if they hadn’t been already. The San Diego medical examiner’s office was operated by top-notch professionals who were unlikely to miss something like that. Of course, if the other victims were Bolivian orphans like Abrille, then their torsos might have been slashed to mask the cargo wounds. Voda or his henchmen would’ve removed the staples, but there’d be tiny puncture marks present. If the entire area surrounding the wound were cut away, there wouldn’t be any puncture marks left, but the corpse would be missing about a quarter-inch sliver of skin on both margins.

  “What are you thinking about?” Lauren asked.

  “I was thinking about Voda’s smuggling operation, how cruel it is to use the girls like this.”

  “It’s pretty bad. But you saved Abrille.”

  “We saved her. You were there, remember?”

  Lauren beamed at the compliment and gave him a hug. “We’re a team.”

  “Right — a team.”

  Nathan had a few calls to make, especially the big one to Voda. He’d have to determine the best way to use Abrille and the cache of alexandrites against the guy. He looked at his watch — 0337 hours. His dad would be up and dressed by now, but Nathan wasn’t quite ready to make the call. He also needed more shut-eye. Although he could keep going for another eighteen hours or so, it wouldn’t be tactically sound. He’d lived much of his adult life according to the military adage “sleep when you can.”

  He checked with Doug, who conf
irmed Abrille would need several more hours to recover from the anesthetics. Special Agent Grangeland was still ninety minutes away, so Nathan decided to use the time to get more sleep. The call to Voda would have to wait. Nathan programmed his phone to wake him at 0450 hours, which gave him ten minutes to splash some water on his face before Grangeland arrived. Maybe Doug had an extra toothbrush lying around somewhere.

  Despite everything on his mind, Nathan managed to nod off.

  The iPhone’s alarm did its job. He checked the time and sat up.

  Coffee.

  He ached for a fresh cup, knowing full well it was a quasi-addiction. He didn’t drink, didn’t gamble, and didn’t smoke, but he did consume coffee. He found Doug around the corner in a small office.

  “Did you get some sleep?”

  “About an hour,” Nathan said. “Thanks for letting us crash.”

  “It’s no trouble. I’ve been catching up on some dictation.”

  “How’s Abrille?”

  “She’s doing well.”

  “Special Agent Grangeland should be arriving any minute. Thanks again for everything, Doug.”

  “I’m happy to help. I’ve got a small safe embedded in the slab if you need a secure place to store the alexandrites.”

  “I appreciate the offer, and it’s not a matter of trust, but I think it’s best to distance ourselves from you as much as possible.”

  Doug nodded. “You look like a man in need of coffee.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  “Follow me.”

  Grangeland arrived a few minutes later. With Doug in tow, Nathan and Lauren went out front to meet her. Emerging from a nondescript sedan and walking toward them in tan tactical pants and a dark polo shirt with the FBI seal embroidered above the left pocket, Grangeland looked stunning. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Closing the deal, her GLOCK service piece occupied her right hip in a compact holster. Although Nathan had never asked how old she was, he guessed mid-thirties.

  “Grangeland, if we keep meeting like this, people will say we’re in love.”

  “You’re unlovable.”

  “It’s damn good to see you.”