by Gerri Hill
Rick stood in the doorway, surveying the dozen or so file cabinets that were crowded into the tiny room. “I’ll help look. How are things filed? Alpha?”
Nicole shrugged. “Some.”
“Some?”
“The earliest stuff is filed by date. My first secretary’s idea. Catherine changed it to alpha.”
“But they are not merged?”
“They are not merged because there has never been idle time to do that. Besides, rarely do I have to go back ten years to look for a file. And anyway, the last six years, most of that is on the com-puter.”
“But you still keep paper files?”
“Yes.”
Nicole tossed her purse on the top of one of the file cabinets, reading the labels as she walked past them. The dated ones were at the end of the row, if she remembered. Truth was, she hadn’t been in the file room in years. “Rick? Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Give me some room here? This place isn’t big enough for both of us,” she said, as she squatted down beside the second to last file cabinet.
“Sorry,” Rick said. “Didn’t realize I was hovering.” He backed out of the tiny room, giving Nicole some space.
“Thanks. Hopefully, this won’t take long,” she murmured as she pulled out one of the drawers, her eyes scanning the names on the files. Date order? Geez. What had she been thinking?
———
By the time Jake finished her story, Captain Zeller was pacing across his living room, the TV long ago having been turned off. Three glasses of untouched iced tea sat on the coffee table, compliments of his wife.
“First of all, let me say that I don’t condone the illegal investi-gation that you’ve done,” he said, pointing at Steven. “With the encouragement of one of my detectives, no less.”
“Captain—”
“With that said, we have a terrible situation. Lieutenant Gregory is a fine man, McCoy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I find it hard to believe all of this.”
“I know, sir.”
“But, facts are facts. And regardless of how you’ve obtained them, we need to act on them. The DA will have our ass, of course, as most of this is inadmissible. But, the court proceedings are his problem. Ours is to stop a murderer.”
Jake let out a sigh of relief. She’d watched Captain Zeller as she’d told him everything they’d found out. At first, she could see the disbelief in his eyes. But when Steven told them how he’d found out about the medical records, how he had proof that Lieutenant Gregory deleted the dispatch log, he had no choice but believe them.
“Question is, what are we going to do?”
“Sir, with all due respect, we need to bring Lieutenant Gregory in. His son has been missing for five months. That’s the time the first victim was found. Lieutenant Gregory has to suspect his son in this by now.”
“I will not bring Gregory in as if he’s a criminal. I’ve known the man twenty years.”
“Yes, sir. That’s why I came to you today. I was hoping we could go to his house and speak with him there. Privately.”
“And Mr. Turner here?”
“I’d like him to come along, sir. He’s the only one privy to all the information.”
Captain Zeller nodded and faced Steven. “You ever wanted to be a cop, son?”
Steven visibly swallowed. “Actually, sir, I fancied myself more like… James Bond.”
Jake saw a ghost of a smile cross the older man’s face. As she’d suspected, Stevie had watched too many spy movies.
“Bond? Well, don’t pull any fancy gadgets out of your pockets. We’re just going to talk to Lieutenant Gregory.” Zeller turned to Jake. “And you do know, he won’t like this one bit, seeing as how you went over his head and all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Zeller laughed. “I’d heard you were a little fireball, McCoy. But investigating your lieutenant ranks right up there. You got balls, I’ll say that.”
Jake lifted one corner of her mouth. “Yes, sir.”
———
Rick walked back to Catherine’s desk, idly tossing her paper-weight between his hands. He stopped, frowning. Nicole’s office door was ajar. He blindly laid the paperweight on the desk and walked slowly to the door, head cocked to one side. He would have sworn that it was closed when they’d first gotten there. He moved his coat aside, hand lightly touching his weapon as he used his foot to open the door. It was dark inside, the blinds lowered, prevent-ing the early afternoon sunshine from entering.
The few times he’d been in here, the blinds were always up.
“You must be Detective Chase,” a voice said behind him.
Rick visibly jumped, struggling to pull his weapon. He saw the man’s face, noted the smug smile that graced his mouth—then pain and blackness overtook him.
———
“I really think we should have some backup,” Jake said again, as they approached the front door.
“Yes, it’s duly noted that you’ve mentioned it three times, Detective McCoy. However, I know Gregory. We’re in no danger.”
Jake held her tongue. Of course they could be in danger. This man possibly killed three cops. This man was most likely hiding his son. Jake looked at Steven, trying to reassure him. His eyes were wild, and Jake suspected his heart was pounding out of control.
“Stevie,” she whispered. When he met her eyes, she grinned. “Chill, man.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Captain Zeller chuckled as he rang the doorbell. “Yes, chill, Mr. Bond.”
Jake grew impatient as the seconds passed, finally reaching around Zeller, pressing the doorbell two more times. As Zeller stared at her, she shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Could be a wasted trip, Detective. Apparently, your lieutenant is not home.”
“We can’t let this go until tomorrow, Captain.”
“What should I do? Put out an APB for one of our lieutenants?”
“With the evidence we have—yes, sir.”
“Well, that’s why you’re a detective and I’m a captain. It doesn’t work that way.”
“You’re right. I never learned how to play politics,” she said, her voice rising. Steven cleared his throat, but she ignored him. “He very possibly killed three cops six years ago. His son is the only suspect we have in the murders of five women.” She pounded her fist against the door. “So I really don’t want to play politics right now!”
Captain Zeller only smiled. “Now I know what Dr. Benson was talking about. You kinda go off the deep end, don’t you McCoy?” When she would have protested, he held his hand up to stop her. “I know you think I’m taking this lightly, but I’m not. Lieutenant Gregory’s position has earned him the benefit of the doubt, not to mention the means at which you’ve gathered this evidence against him. And truth be told, McCoy,” he said with a shrug. “A lot of this could be called circumstantial.”
Jake took a step closer to Zeller. “A lawyer might call it circumstantial. A cop never would.”
He nodded. “And I’m still a cop, which is why I’m even here in the first place.” He turned to go. “I’ll have a unit come by and wait. As soon as Gregory shows, I’ll have them bring him to me.”
Jake let out her breath. “Thank you.”
———
Nicole found the file, finally. She pulled it out, then turned toward the door and the muffled sound of something falling.
“Rick?” she called.
She stood, closing the file cabinet behind her with her foot. She briefly flipped through the file, but nothing stood out, and she had no recollection of Rebecca Gregory. She stopped and stared out into the now dark outer office. She distinctly remembered flipping on the light.
“Ricky?” she called again. She actually felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand out seconds before a shadow crossed the door.
“No, no. Not Ricky, darling.”
Nicole stifled her scream as the handsome young man in the pressed b
usiness suit walked into the light. He flashed her a charming smile before bowing at the waist.
“Dr. Westbrook, a pleasure to finally meet you. Matthew Gregory, at your service.”
Nicole dropped the file she’d been holding and pressed back against the file cabinet, her eyes wide with fright.
He spread his arms out. “So this is where you keep the old files. I’d already searched your secretary’s computer, thinking surely to God you’ve got all that imaged by now.”
“What… what do you want?” Nicole whispered.
Again, that charming smile. “I’ve missed you, Dr. Westbrook.” He took a step closer. “Have you missed me as well?” When Nicole didn’t answer, he motioned to the papers scattered on the floor around her. “Mommy’s file, no doubt. That should make for interesting reading later tonight. Don’t you think?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Oh, Dr. Westbrook, let’s don’t spoil the fun, shall we. We’ll have several days to play.” He pointed at the file. “Pick it up.”
Nicole’s hands were trembling as she gathered the fallen papers and put them back inside the file folder. She was too rattled to even think coherently, but one word kept crowding into her muddled brain. Jake.
“You know, I must say, your cop friend is pretty resourceful.” Matthew Gregory leaned casually against the doorframe, watching as Nicole straightened the papers. “Imagine my surprise when I noticed in the Trinity logs that someone had been snooping through my medical records. I sniffed him out, followed him back outside but the IP address was located in China.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I have what I want, don’t I?”
“Why?”
“Why? Why you? Perhaps as we read this file later, it’ll all come back to you.” He stood straighter and pulled both sleeves of his jacket down around his wrist. With a slight tilt of his head, he motioned for her to move out of the room. “Time to go. We don’t want your Ricky in there to surprise us, do we?”
“Is he… okay?”
“Okay? Well, that depends how you look at it. He’s still breath-ing, if that’s what you mean. Or he was.” Matthew Gregory laughed. “For some reason, I can’t bring myself to hurt another man. Wonder why I don’t have that same compassion for women?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh? Could it possibly have something to do with Mommy?”
“Where… where are we going?”
“We are going for a very short ride, Dr. Westbrook.” With that, he grasped her arm and clasped one end of a handcuff around her wrist. The other end, he snapped securely around his own wrist. “Don’t want you bolting, now do we?”
Nicole jerked her arm away, but he pulled it back, his fingers clutching hers. She noticed that his hands were warm, but damp. Damp like her own. The elevator was waiting, and he pulled her inside, quickly punching the button for the ground floor.
“My car is parked right outside,” he said. “The receptionist unfortunately called in sick today,” he said with a smile. “So, don’t try screaming like some hysterical girl.”
Nicole nodded, part of her wishing frantically that Jake would show up and save her. The other part, the more realistic part, real-ized that if she had any chance to survive, she would have to create a psychologist-patient relationship with him. And that, of course, she was trained to do.
———
“You want to call it a day or do you want to finish this?” Jake asked.
Steven grinned. “My wife will most likely kill me, but I’d like to hang out with you guys.”
Jake grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “Great. Because some-thing tells me we’re going to need your expertise again.” She pointed at her Land Cruiser. “Follow me to my place. Rick and Nicole might already be there.” She looked at her cell again, won-dering why they hadn’t checked in. It shouldn’t have taken this long. She used her thumb to dial Rick’s number as she maneuvered through traffic onto the interstate. A quick glance in the rearview mirror found the bright red Bug tailing close behind.
“Come on, Ricky,” she murmured impatiently. When voice mail sounded, she disconnected, dialing instead Nicole’s number. After two rings, she was notified that her party was unavailable. She frowned. What the hell did that mean?
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Although still daylight, the sun had long disappeared behind the mountains to the west. They were traveling down a familiar road, and Nicole was surprised that they were heading to Golden. As if reading her thoughts, Matthew shook his head.
“We’re not going to your house. But up in the foothills, yes. My father has a cabin there.” He grinned. “It’s been very useful.”
“So that’s why it was so easy for you to get to my house,” she said quietly. “I am curious as to how you knew my alarm code.”
He laughed. “Dr. Westbrook, with a computer, you can find out all sorts of interesting facts. Your alarm company has what I hesitate to even call a firewall. I was in their system in seconds.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I’m not really… into computers.”
“And apparently, neither is your secretary. Your records are very vulnerable.”
“I don’t see how. Only our two computers are linked, but we’re not open to the outside. Are we?”
“I sent an e-mail to your Catherine. As soon as she opened the attachment, I was in.”
“Catherine’s very strict about e-mail. I can’t believe she’d open an attachment from someone she didn’t know.”
Again, that smug laugh. “It was disguised as coming from the Psychiatric Journal wanting updated information on you. It was a Trojan Horse virus that gave me remote access to her computer. So, at night, I could log on and view all your files.”
“Which is how you gained access to the names of my former patients.”
“See how easy that was?”
“But why?”
He shook his head. “We have plenty of time to talk, Dr. Westbrook.” Matthew pulled off the main road and headed farther out into the foothills. “We’ll be there soon enough.”
———
By the time Jake got to her duplex and there was still no sign of Rick or Nicole, she was in panic mode. Steven did his best to calm her.
“We’d have heard something.”
“From whom?” she nearly yelled, once again dialing Rick’s cell. “Let’s just go to Nicole’s office and see what we find.” She whistled for Cheyenne, pausing to grab two water bottles from her fridge, one of which she tossed to Steven. “Come on, Stevie. No time to waste.”
———
Rick opened his eyes, then quickly shut them again. It hurt to blink, it hurt to move his eyes. He tried it again, a loud moan escaping as he struggled to sit up. He reached to the back of his head, feeling the wet stickiness.
“Fuck,” he whispered. He rolled to his side, finding his cell. He held it to his face, but his eyes would not focus. He punched caller ID, knowing that Jake’s cell was the third number. His head rested against the carpet, and he was aware of his shallow breathing.
Jake snatched up her phone on the first ring. “McCoy,” she said tersely.
“It’s me.”
“Jesus Christ, Rick! Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m… I’m at Nicole’s office… and no, not really okay,” he murmured.
“Where’s Nicole?”
“I don’t know. I don’t… know,” he whispered.
“Hang on, buddy. I’m almost there.” Jake disconnected, then tossed the phone to Steven. “Call it in. We need an ambulance.”
“What about backup?”
“No time for that.” She gripped the wheel tightly, speeding through downtown. “No time for Zeller.”
Jake refused to speculate what was going on. It would do no good. So, she pushed her personal feelings aside and tried to focus on the situation. If Rick was injured, and he didn’t know where Nicole was, chances were, she’d been… taken.
By him.
“Goddamn fucker,” she murmured, a
s she sped down the streets.
———
“So? What do you think?”
Nicole stood outside the small cabin, still handcuffed to Matthew Gregory. With dismay, she noted the seclusion of the cabin. She was on her own.
“Nice,” she finally said.
“It’s cozy, I’ll say that.” He pulled her up the steps and opened the front door. Not exactly spacious, but the living room was indeed cozy as it was flanked on one side by the opened kitchen and a giant fireplace on the opposite wall. “I know it’s cold,” he said. “And if you’ll behave long enough, I’ll get a fire going.”
“Were you this courteous to your previous victims?”
He walked closer. “I was as courteous as I needed to be.”
Nicole swallowed nervously, reminding herself to hold her tongue. This young man held her life in his hands. She stood still as he produced a handcuff key and unlocked them. She instinctively rubbed her wrist where the cuff had been.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”
He nodded. “Please sit there,” he said, pointing to the worn sofa. “I’ll get a fire going.”
She silently watched him, wondering if she should make a run for the door. Common sense told her to stay put. For one thing, she doubted she could outrun a twenty-four-year-old kid. No matter how scared she was.
———
Jake pulled on one of the doors, surprised that it was unlocked. She’d had visions of having to shatter the glass doors to gain entrance. She walked quickly past the empty reception desk and punched the elevator button impatiently.
“You think this place stays unlocked?”
Jake glanced at Steven, then punched the button again. “Who the hell knows? With our luck, probably.” The quiet tone of the elevator signaled its arrival, and Jake squeezed between the doors as soon as they opened.
“Once we get to the floor, stay behind me,” she said. “We don’t know what we’re going to find.”
Steven nervously clasped and unclasped his hands as he watched the digital numbers announce each floor. “Ambulance should be right behind us. Right?”
“Right,” Jake murmured. The doors opened quietly, and she reached for her weapon, holding it out in front of her as she walked silently toward Dr. Westbrook’s office. “The blinds are down,” she murmured.