Darkness Calls

by Caridad Piñeiro

  “I’ll be by, unless the agents need to keep me for some reason,” he replied, but David shook his head.

  “Great, then. Thanks for your help, Danvers,” Ryder said. The doctor walked from the room, mumbling under her breath as she did so. The calming, pain-killing chill of the ice pack returned, however, and Diana wondered why this man was being so solicitous. And why she was wondering what kind of relationship he and the good doctor shared.

  She opened her eyes. This time it took only a few seconds for her to focus on his too-handsome face, which was filled with concern—and a trace of guilt. “It seems as if we should know each other’s names by now,” she said.

  It was amazing that such a small hint of a smile could transform the harsh planes of his face, brightening his dark countenance. She sensed he didn’t smile often. “Ryder Latimer. Proprietor of this club. And you two would be—”

  “Special Agent Harris.” Her partner walked up to Ryder, who sat on the edge of a low coffee table beside Diana.

  Ryder stood as the other man approached and they shook hands. He sat down once more and faced her.

  “Diana Reyes,” she answered, and held out her hand. He took it in his, and when he noticed the dull rose across her knuckles from their earlier fisticuffs, his lips thinned into a tight line. Smoothing a finger across the fresh marks, he gazed at her, his face hard. His touch sent a wave of heat skittering up her arm. “I’m sorry about hurting you,” Ryder said softly.

  “You were watching me,” she pressed, disturbingly aware of him. This close, his face was striking, undeniably masculine. A sharp, straight slash of a nose. Those dark, nearly black eyes that made her feel as if she could sink into their depths to rest. And his lips—full and well-defined…

  Maybe it was the blow to her head that was distorting her sense of things, but it seemed she had seen that face before. That she knew him somehow…and knew she could trust him.

  “I read the papers the other morning,” he started with a shrug. “I was worried the killer might be here—”

  “Maybe because of your clientele and the bar’s motif?” asked David, sitting on the couch by Diana’s feet.

  Ryder shifted to face him, his legs spread. He rested his forearms on thick-muscled thighs and steepled his hands. He had capable hands. Large, with blunt fingers. Diana had to tear her gaze away from the sight of them. She was a sucker for men with strong hands.

  “There are all kinds at the club,” Ryder answered. “For most, it’s a way to cut loose and be a little different.”

  “Why did you follow me?” she asked, although she was quite certain he had been in the alley before she arrived.

  “I didn’t. I was already out there. Beat you down from the catwalks.”

  He caught her off guard with his answer. She had been expecting him to lie. Needing time to regroup and get a fresh perspective, she peered at her partner past the pack of ice she still held to her face and said, “I think I’d like to talk to Mr. Latimer in the morning. Bright and early.”

  “First thing in the a.m.?” Ryder questioned, dread in his voice.

  “Not an early bird, I gather,” Diana replied as she rose and handed him the half-melted ice pack.

  “You can’t even begin to imagine,” he answered, and as Diana met his gaze, she sensed there was a wealth of meaning in those simple words.

  “No, I don’t think I can,” she acknowledged, some extrasensory perception kicking in to warn her: Ryder Latimer was clearly not what he appeared to be.

  Diana turned her attention to the lists of convicted sex offenders in the area, sipping an oversize cup of café latte she had picked up on her way to work. Her caffeine-and-sugar rush was humming nicely when David showed up at nine. He plopped himself on the sofa and she brought over the lists she had already reviewed. “I’ve flagged a couple who seem like possible suspects.”

  David rubbed at his eyes, where a bleary network of red obscured the normally bright blue. “Tired?” she asked, dropping onto the sofa next to him.

  “Hmm,” he grunted, and grabbed the lists from her. As he examined them, he asked, “How long do we give Latimer before we chase him down?”

  Diana glanced at her watch. It was already nine-fifteen with no word from him. Latimer didn’t strike her as the type who would be late, which could only mean that he had no intention of showing up. She fought back the sudden disappointment and mustered righteous anger. He had not kept his promise. So much for the trust she had felt last night.

  Trust being a funny and fragile thing, she thought as she ran her hand along her right cheek. It was still sore, and this morning she’d woken with a pounding headache. The medication the doctor had given her had eased the pain enough for her to concentrate on her work. Still, every time she moved her jaw, a slight sting reminded her.

  She glanced at her watch again even though only seconds had passed. “At nine-thirty we go after him. If he refuses to cooperate, we’ll get a warrant.”

  It was as if Latimer had heard; a moment later her phone rang. She hurried from the couch and grabbed it. Anger blossomed inside her as the secretary said Latimer’s lawyer was upstairs. “Bastard,” she mumbled under her breath as she hung up the phone, all of her earlier interest in him blown away by the call.

  David picked up his head from the sofa back. “Let me guess—”

  “Latimer sent his lawyer down. Probably to throw up roadblocks so we couldn’t question him.”

  “Testy this morning, aren’t we?” he said, noting her irritation.

  “I don’t like games. He said he’d be here. If I’d thought otherwise, I would have hauled him down here last night.” She walked to her desk, slipped her jacket off her chair and put it on.

  “Especially after the little incident?” She shot David a glare as she headed for the door of her office. Of course she was mad about the “incident,” but she also felt betrayed.

  That sense of betrayal fueled her anger as she and David arrived at the anteroom to the assistant director in charge’s office. His secretary nodded and gave them a tight, uncomfortable smile. “He’s waiting for the two of you.”

  Diana took a breath and knocked on the door. After hearing the soft “Come in,” she and David entered.

  In a chair opposite ADIC Jesus Hernandez sat a middle-aged man. Hernandez immediately identified him as Latimer’s lawyer and the man rose, offering his hand.

  Diana and David shook hands with the man but continued to stand even though the lawyer motioned for them to sit. “Mr. Ruggiero. I wish I could say it was good to see you, but I would have much rather had your client come down as he promised last night,” Diana said.

  The man glanced up at her and then at David. “My client has every intention of presenting himself—this afternoon.”

  “He agreed to come down this morning. Is there some reason—”

  “Mr. Latimer made that concession under duress, Special Agent Reyes. We both know that after the altercation—”

  “Brought about by your client attacking—”

  “My client advises that you struck first. He was only defending himself,” Ruggiero shot back.

  “Your client has a foot and at least one hundred pounds over my partner, Mr. Ruggiero,” David said.

  Hernandez finally joined the fray and brought silence to the room with a sharply barked “Enough.”

  Diana nodded and at Hernandez’s prompting, sat in the chair next to Ryder’s lawyer. David took a seat on the couch. As she sat and listened to her boss’s briefing, she wondered why Latimer had sent a shark rather than come himself.

  The nattily dressed lawyer sat calmly as Hernandez advised them on Latimer’s concerns and his willingness to cooperate in any way he could, including presenting himself in the late afternoon for questioning. The lawyer nodded, confirming each of Hernandez’s statements.

  Ruggiero must have taken fashion tips from an early Godfather movie—his brown hair was ruthlessly slicked back with gel and his silk suit was shiny, the oi
ly sheen in keeping with the unctuous smile he had given her when they met. He had on an overpowering cologne that made her nauseous, as did his tight, ferretlike smile.

  “My client will do everything in his power to cooperate,” Ruggiero replied in seemingly sincere tones, and she wondered how he could lie so easily. Latimer clearly had something to hide, and this man was here to help him do so.

  “Tell me, Mr. Ruggiero. Does your client’s idea of cooperation include attempting to restrain a federal officer?” Diana countered, and gave the man some credit when he had the grace to blush.

  “A misunderstanding, Agent—”

  “Special Agent in Charge, Mr. Ruggiero,” David corrected him.

  Diana shot her partner a glare, hating that he had paraded her title. In her book, titles alone didn’t earn respect. She addressed the lawyer calmly, her tone brooking no disagreement. “If your client doesn’t appear by this afternoon, he’ll leave me no option but to issue a warrant.”

  “My client has rights—”

  “And it’s well within his rights for us to ask him to answer a few questions. If he feels uncomfortable, he has the right to counsel and to refuse to answer. In which case, we’ll charge him as the suspect and hold him for additional proceedings,” Hernandez answered calmly, attempting to stop further disputes. “Do you think your client can come by this afternoon, at let’s say…”

  Hernandez stopped and glanced at Diana to continue. “Four o’clock would be fine,” she confirmed.

  The attorney nodded, rose and walked out the door.

  After he was gone, Diana let out a stinging Spanish expletive. Hernandez whistled beneath his breath. David coughed uncomfortably.

  “Well, what does he think we’re going to do? Chinese water torture or boiling in hot oil? The last thing we want is to lose a suspect due to a technicality,” she said hotly.

  David shrugged. “You and Latimer got off on the wrong foot last night. Maybe that worried him.”

  “And speaking of that, Diana, I understand from your reports that you and this suspect had a physical altercation. One in which you may have suffered a possible injury?” Hernandez glanced at a file as he spoke.

  “Has anyone here checked you out?” he continued.

  “I planned on going down—”

  “As soon as we are done,” Hernandez instructed, and then quickly launched into a discussion of the case and their plan of action for the interrogation of Latimer.

  Diana took a deep breath, her headache having intensified during the interview. She hoped Latimer wouldn’t mess around with them. They needed his cooperation at the club. But something told her that even though he hadn’t been on the up-and-up with them, it had nothing to do with the killings. He was hiding something else. Something more…personal.

  When Hernandez dismissed them, she rose and followed David from the office, the pounding in her head intense and almost debilitating.

  “Diana?” David asked as he noted her discomfort.

  She nodded and forced a smile. “A bad headache. And even if Hernandez hadn’t ordered it, I’d be heading to Maggie’s, anyway, to have her check me out.”

  David smiled a broad ear-to-ear grin at the mention of the staff physician. “Mind if I tag along?”

  His eagerness was a balm. She had long hoped that her friend Maggie would get together with her very nice, but slightly inept partner. “Sure.”

  “Great,” he said, and followed her as she walked down the hall and to the elevator.

  Chapter 4

  Diana entered Maggie’s office and found her friend at her desk, reviewing a file. Diana stopped and David nearly ran into her back. She shot him a look over her shoulder, telling him to cool it. “Hi, Maggie. Came by for a quick checkup,” she said.

  Maggie rose and slinked her way around her desk. She had the kind of walk women envied and men drooled over. With her five-foot-ten-inch height and slim build, she looked more like a model than a physician. “Heard you had a small altercation,” she said, and then leaned forward, to take a better look. “I can see you had more than a little physical contact.”

  Diana shrugged it off, but David piped in from behind her, “She was out cold for about five minutes.”

  Diana glared at him again and he backed off, taking a seat on the sofa in Maggie’s office.

  “Thanks, David. At least one of you has some sense,” Maggie said with a smile that had David blushing in response.

  Maggie skewered Diana with her sharp gaze. “You and I obviously need to talk about what happened.”

  Diana didn’t argue and followed Maggie into the examining room, where she jumped up onto the table and waited as Maggie slipped on a lab coat, grabbed some things and walked over.

  “Were you really out for five minutes?” Maggie questioned as she plucked a penlight from her jacket pocket, flipped it on and shined it in Diana’s eyes. Like last night, Diana pulled away from it.

  Maggie shut it down and placed her hands on her hips. “Sensitivity, huh? Bet you have a monster of a headache, as well.”

  “Yeah, and a little fuzziness every now and then, but don’t worry. Another doctor took a look at me last night and said it was a mild concussion,” she reassured.

  Maggie harrumphed, reached out and gently applied pressure to the area on Diana’s cheekbone and jawline where Latimer’s forearm had connected. Diana winced, but the pain was minor. “This doctor let you go home without—”

  “She gave me instructions and my brother dutifully woke me every few hours. Needless to say, I’m a little wiped today,” Diana complained.

  Maggie said nothing else, just grabbed a pad and wrote out a prescription. She roughly tore it off and handed the slip to Diana.

  Diana eyed the paper with confusion and a little trepidation. “You’re not going to say anything? Not going to warn me about—”

  “Doing something as stupid as taking on a man twice your size and failing to go to a hospital like any reasonable person should have? No, of course not. You’re a big girl, right? You know exactly what you’re doing.”

  “Mama Maggie, I appreciate your concern—”

  “You’re as pigheadedly macho as any of those men out there, Di. And that’s not a good thing,” Maggie said as she began her tirade again. “And what kind of doctor—”

  “Her name was Danvers. Melissa, I think,” Diana said.

  “I had a professor named Danvers in med school. He had a daughter,” Maggie offhandedly offered.

  “Think you could dig up a little more on her? Ask around?” Diana asked, and tucked the prescription paper into her jacket pocket.

  Maggie sensed there was more to Diana’s interest. “For personal or business reasons?”

  “A little of both. For business reasons—I want to know what kind of doctor she is. Whether she’s on the up-and-up.”

  “And for the personal?” Maggie asked, one fine auburn-colored eyebrow raised.

  “She’s involved with a suspect. How involved, Maggie? Would she lie to protect him?” Diana explained.

  Maggie eyed her carefully and finally nodded. “The second question—the one about being involved—sounds like it’s still business? Unless of course…is he handsome?”

  Handsome was an understatement, Diana thought but wouldn’t admit. She shrugged and said, “I guess.”

  Maggie chuckled and shook her head, clearly aware of Diana’s subterfuge. “Must be major-league handsome, but despite that, or maybe because of it, I will ask around for you. See what I can find out.”

  Diana slipped off the examining table and faced her friend once more. “Think you can do me another favor?”

  Maggie let out a huff, but it was more playful than anything. “What now?”

  “Do you think that liberated woman inside of you could talk to my poor partner? Ask him to have lunch or dinner? Put him out of his misery?”

  “What makes you think—”

  “I know you too well, Mags, just like you know me. Do yourself a favor.
He’s a really nice guy.”

  “Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment,” Maggie noted, and slipped an arm around her shoulders as she walked Diana back to her outer office.

  David was still there, waiting patiently. He jumped off the sofa and grinned at them. “Ready to go?”

  “. I just can’t wait to hit that computer and start mousing through all those entries,” Diana teased. “Eat lunch at my desk while I pore over a stack of details about sex offenders and murderers and, of course, review the ME’s reports again.”

  “We could always go out for a quick bite,” David said, obviously not enjoying the prospect of eating over stomach-churning crime-scene photos.

  “No, not me. I’d like to get some things done before Latimer shows up this afternoon. But you two go ahead,” she said, and glanced at Maggie, who grinned and piped in with “If you don’t want to go alone, I’d be more than happy to join you.”

  David looked from one woman to the other, a little flummoxed by Maggie’s offer. Then he grinned and nodded. “That would be great. We can bring Diana back a sandwich so she doesn’t have to eat fossilized food from the vending machine.”

  “See you at twelve, then?” Maggie prompted, and after David confirmed the time, they returned to Diana’s office.

  They talked over how they would handle Latimer’s interrogation later that afternoon, then put in a call to the local detective heading up the NYPD part of the investigation so he could join them. It was close to noon when they finished, and despite her earlier plans, Diana needed to fill the prescription Maggie had given her. “I’m going to get this,” she said, waving the small slip of paper in the air, “and grab a sandwich down at the deli. Meet me back here for Latimer’s interrogation.”

  “Will do, Special Agent in Charge.” David waved as he left the room.

  Diana grabbed her purse and headed out, picking up her medication at a local drugstore and buying a premade sandwich at the corner deli. Back at her desk, she popped one of the painkillers, slugged it down with a mouthful of Coke and laid out her sandwich so she could work while she ate.