Hooked

  Derek pulled off at the next exit and into the rest stop. Suddenly, he was hungry.

  “How ya doin’?” a middle-aged woman in a waitress’s uniform greeted him.

  “I’m famished,” he said.

  “Where ya from?” she asked as she handed him the menu. “French toast’s the special today, with real maple syrup, made just up the road. Three slices of bacon and hash browns come with it.”

  “Sold,” he said as she poured his coffee. “Kingston,” he said. “Down near Wilkes-Barre.”

  She nodded in understanding. “What brings you up this way?”

  Derek hadn’t thought about it, but like so many other good liars, he could always come up with something in a pinch. “I had to drop off a friend. He met a girl from New York, and he’s visiting with her for a few days.”

  “If he has a girl in New York, he’d better get a car.” She laughed at her own joke, and Derek did, too.

  “Isn’t this the place where that crazy doctor was killing people?” he asked.

  The waitress stood more erect, and her expression turned serious as she shook her head. “One of the victims was from right over that way,” she said with a nod. “I hope they fry him crispier than your bacon.”

  Appetizing, Derek thought. “Where’s the hospital? Are the reporters still here?”

  “The hospital’s just a few miles away if you go on the back roads, like I do. Some of them reporters stopped here, asked me a few questions about the victim, Dr. Benson, the one that was kidnapped. She was born and raised here. Her father’s the sheriff.”

  Benson. That was her. Jessica Benson, kidnapping victim and drug addict. Derek’s mind raced with possibilities.

  He was only an emergency medical technician, and the state required him to complete a disclaimer about drug and alcohol abuse. He had no doubt the physician standards were the same, or higher. So what had Dr. Benson stated on her application for a license? Surely she hadn’t admitted to her addiction, or she wouldn’t have a license to prescribe narcotics. She had to have lied. And now he knew her secret.

  The breakfast was fabulous, and he purchased a small bottle of the local maple syrup and drove home thinking about how he could get the most out of Dr. Benson. Blackmail? It was possible. He imagined she was loaded, since she could afford Dr. Ball’s fees. Maybe he’d just use her for drugs. He could take Lucy and a few other friends to the ER, and they could walk away with hundreds of tablets of oxycodone. Those were his immediate thoughts, but if he kept ruminating, more would come.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d do, but he was in no hurry. Even if Dr. Benson weaned herself off bup, he still knew her secret, and one way or another, he’d use that information.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fall Ball

  “This was a great idea. Thanks for making me do it,” Jess said.

  Wendy sat behind the wheel of her SUV, weaving her way across the Poconos on old country roads, heading toward Blue Ridge Trail golf course. She was Jess’s partner in a charity tournament, and Jess was glad for the opportunity to sit back and relax while Wendy navigated. The skies were clear and the temperature warm enough that she could grip her clubs without wearing ski gloves. Her mood was as sunny as the sky, which was good. Some days, she had to force herself out of bed and off to work, repeating mantra after motivational mantra for encouragement. Other days were good, but this one, so far, had been great.

  Wendy interrupted her thoughts. “I know you hate to golf in the cold, but it’ll be fun.”

  “I’ve been practicing. It’s a good stress release.” One of the guys at NA had told her he did woodworking to relieve his. Someone else cooked. The self-defense was good, but Jess needed something else to help her manage. Hitting golf balls was physical but also required her complete concentration. The mental exercise was, in this case, more important than the physical. “How are you, my friend?”

  “I’m good, Jess. I have my moments, you know? I feel the shock all over again, when that needle hit my thigh. I was confused, until he started talking, and I just felt ice go through my veins when I realized what had happened. Total fear. I relive that moment again and again. Once we got to the cabin, I had hope. I just kept thinking of a way out. My mind saved me, I think. But those few seconds, before I knew what was happening, I was petrified. My therapist has helped, and seeing Hawk in court helped, too. I really let him have it, and he’s going to jail for a long, long time.”

  “Have you heard anything about the murders? Why haven’t they pressed charges?”

  As the coroner, Wendy had more dealings with the police than she ever did. “Oh, I don’t think they’ll press charges for a while. There’s no deadline on murder charges, so they’ll take their time and make sure they have him. There’s no smoking gun, just a lot of circumstantial evidence. Just about every body was exhumed and autopsied, and I’d assume they ran tox panels on the remains. I’d bet they’re looking for traces of sux and insulin and potassium and everything else they could think of. But even if they find something, no one can prove it was Hawk.”

  “He told us he murdered those people. Doesn’t that count?”

  “I’m sure it does, but his attorney will probably say we’re lying or something, just to get back at him for the kidnapping.”

  “There has to be something else, Wendy. Something that proves he murdered those people.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. But he came after us with succinylcholine. Where did he get it? Should I check if any’s missing from the pharmacy?”

  “Hmm. Let’s go even further. If you’re Hawk, waiting for an opportunity to murder someone, you have to be ready, right? I mean, you can’t go digging through the Pixus when someone’s crashing, right? So where’s his stash?”

  “The police searched his car and apartment. I don’t know. I suppose it’s easy to hide a small syringe or two.”

  “This is good, Jess. Talking. Thinking about how to nail him.”

  “I guess. What if he escapes? What if he comes after us again?”

  “If he escapes, he’ll be out of the country in no time. His parents are gazillionaires. He’ll avoid jail but live his life as a fugitive.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe unless he’s dead. Unless I see his lifeless body and check his pulse and know he can’t hurt me anymore. Isn’t that strange? I’ve always been against capital punishment, and I don’t know if I want him to die for his crimes, but I know I’m not safe with him alive.”

  “Isn’t that what your self-defense is for? If you see him, flatten him.”

  “Don’t make fun of me. This class is great, and it’s done wonders for me. You should come.” She was certainly better prepared to defend herself than she was before Hawk attacked her. Her skills would certainly have protected her had she known then what she knew now. She’d never have put herself in that dangerous position. Avoid danger: Mac’s first rule. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure: her mother’s rule. All the important women in her life sure made up good rules. Thinking of her horrible experience still made her tense, though. Time to change the subject.

  “How’s your golf game?” she asked Wendy a moment later.

  “It sucks. I’m not here to win. I’m here to check out the women.”

  Chuckling, Jess flipped the hair from her eyes. “Well, you’ll have lots of eye candy to feast on. A hundred and forty women, all of them golfers. What more could you ask for?”

  “I think I’m ready to settle down.”

  Jess thought about Wendy’s declaration. She’d been settled down for a long time, but she hadn’t ever really been settled. Now that her drug use was under control, though, she was beginning to think more clearly. More normally, perhaps. She hadn’t been a good partner to Ward. They’d shared a house and expenses, but even when they did things together, Jess was there in body only. Her mind was consumed with drugs. When was her withdrawal going to start? How long could she push herself until she needed another pil
l? Where would she hide them when they went away for the weekend? What if customs found them as she was attempting to enter a foreign country, and how would she live without them if they were confiscated? It had all been so stressful that, ultimately, she just withdrew. Stayed home and avoided those situations. Pushed Ward away.

  Now that she was sober, she wondered what a relationship would be like. She could actually be present for it and might enjoy it. And it seemed, whenever the topics of women, or attraction, or relationships came to mind, thoughts of Mac Calabrese followed closely behind.

  Jess wondered about Mac. Was she single? If she wasn’t, she had a very understanding partner. With the time Mac spent at work, and at the gym, and then teaching self-defense, she had little left to give. Then Jess chided herself. Mac was off-limits, and her thoughts were getting her nowhere.

  Wendy was pathologically early and so was able to find a premier parking place near the bag drop. After donning their shoes and sweaters, they found a golf cart with their names. Since Wendy had registered, their twosome was listed under her last name. Clemens / Benson. They were scheduled to start as the B group on the third hole. “Ready to hit the range?” she asked. “Or do you want to use the restroom first?”

  “The range, I think. We’ll beat the crowd.”

  *

  “I love it that you live on the golf course,” Mac said to her good friend Gayle. “I’d like to be able to drive my own cart around like I own the place.” They were pulling out of Gayle’s driveway and then headed along the street toward the golf course.

  At that, Gayle hit the gas on the little BMW golf cart, and Mac laughed. They’d played a practice round the night before, followed by drinks and dinner on Gayle’s deck, and Mac had spent the night in the guest bedroom, although she suspected Gayle would invite her into the master bedroom if Mac ever indicated an interest. She had none. Gayle was a good friend, though, and a great golf partner, and they’d played many tournaments together over the years, often capping off their rounds just as they had the night before. Now their clubs were still on the cart, and Gayle headed directly to the practice area. “Don’t use up all the good shots on the range, Mac. I’d really like to win this year.”

  “Don’t you worry about me. You’re the one who partied all night. How can you even stand this morning?”

  “Years of practice, my girl.”

  Mac smiled and returned her attention to the road. The driving range was just ahead, and only a few women occupied the dozen stalls. One of them had red hair pulled into a ponytail and looked remarkably like Jess. Jess was off-limits! Why did she think of Jess so often?

  Grabbing her entire bag from the cart, she shouldered it and headed toward the far end of the range. The girl who looked like Jess had a great ass, and Mac couldn’t help admiring it and the long legs draped in perfectly tailored, coffee-colored slacks. She even wore brown golf shoes. Her swing looked good and produced a high, arcing ball that landed near the flag a hundred yards down the range. “Nice shot,” she said, because it was.

  The woman turned, and the look of shock on her face told Mac she was just as surprised to see her as Mac was. The raised eyebrows came down, and a smile replaced the large O her mouth had formed. Jess looked absolutely beautiful. She rested on her club as she greeted Mac. “I didn’t know you golf.”

  “I didn’t know you golf.”

  “What does this say about your detecting skills?” she asked, her lips puckered suspiciously.

  “They’re a little off around you,” she said, before she could stop herself. A blush crept up her cheeks, and her neurons were working full speed to come up with an escape plan when Jess spared her.

  Turning her head slightly, she had a small smile at the corners of her mouth, and her blue eyes sparkled. “Yeah. I get a little off when you’re around, too.”

  They looked at each other for a moment, and a connection seemed to form, as they both stood by the acknowledgment they’d made, that something really did exist between them. It wasn’t the heat that Mac usually felt around women she was attracted to; it was more of a comforting warmth. Like coming in from the cold.

  “I like this course,” Jess said after a moment.

  “Oh, do you play here often?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve only been back home for a year, so I haven’t played anywhere often. But I’ve played it a few times over the years. How about you?”

  “I play here all the time, in a league. And my friend Gayle lives on the course, so I can hang out when I’m not working.”

  “I didn’t realize you take time off. It seems like you’re always on a case.”

  “Yeah. I am. It’s a tough job. Tough on relationships.” They’d acknowledged the attraction, and Mac had to throw that out there. A relationship with a cop wasn’t easy. If that was what Jess was thinking.

  “Well, you have to take advantage of the time you get off then, right? You are off?”

  “Yes. Barring a catastrophe beyond imagination, I’m off for the entire weekend, in fact.”

  Jess seemed to ponder that statement for a moment. “Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow.”

  She couldn’t get involved with Jess. Jess was a witness in a kidnapping, potentially a murder investigation! But dinner wouldn’t hurt, would it? They’d just eat. She had to eat somewhere. And they could talk. Talking was supposed to be good. She could talk about self-defense. And, apparently, golf. “I’d like that. But we can’t discuss business. I’d like to talk about us.” Mac felt herself blush. “I mean about ourselves. You and me. As individuals.” She laughed at the mess she’d made of her reply. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

  Jess studied her. “That sounds like a line.”

  Remarkably, it wasn’t. For the first time in her life she’d met someone who intrigued her, instead of just piquing her interest. “It’s not, really.”

  Jess swallowed her laughter. “Go hit some balls and I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Jess put another ball on the tee and whacked it down the range, but she’d lost her concentration. Mac had the same…feeling…she had. What it meant, Jess had no idea, but she thought she wanted to find out.

  After a few more shots, she walked over to Wendy. “I’m going to the putting green. I’ll see you there.”

  “Was that Detective Calabrese?”

  “Yep.”

  “Small world. I’ll pick you up at the practice greens.”

  Jess chipped and putted a few balls, but her mind wasn’t on golf. The mental exercises she’d been using to stay calm were failing her. But it wasn’t bad, she realized. She wasn’t thinking of pills to calm her nerves, but of Mac. Her spiky blond hair. Her expressive blue eyes. The tight mouth, so serious at times, opening up in a wide smile. And the muscles Jess had seen and felt during self-defense classes. Mmmm. This kind of distraction wasn’t bad at all.

  Breakfast had been at seven, just before Wendy picked her up, but she grabbed one of the free energy bars offered at the registration area and slipped it into her purse, just in case. She saw a few familiar faces in the crowd and spoke with several ladies she knew, some old acquaintances and others she’d met over the past months, thanks to Wendy. One was an ER doctor from Scranton, who reacquainted her with yet another ER doctor whom she’d known since residency. And Dr. Reese Ryan, her college roommate, had been trying to contact Jess since the incident with Hawk. Jess just hadn’t felt like talking. She apologized for not returning the calls and thanked Reese for her concern.

  “I’m just glad to see you’re doing okay,” she said, then changed the subject to safer topics like golf and gossip about old colleagues. By the time Wendy pulled up, Reese had Jess laughing so hard she thought she’d pee her pants. Jess promised to call, and this time she’d keep her word. Reese was a good person, funny and sharp, and a good friend. Jess needed some of those in her life.

  Wendy pulled the cart into the queue with dozens of other carts, and after they listened to the rules of the to
urnament, they were off. Following the carts in front of them, Wendy easily found the third tee. She pulled off to the side to allow others to pass. “Who are we playing with?” she asked.

  “No idea. I think we’re paired alphabetically.”

  Since Wendy had registered, they were alphabetically a C. Just like Calabrese. Jess looked up just as another golf cart pulled over and Mac hopped out. “Are you guys three-B?” she asked hopefully.

  “That’s us,” Wendy said.

  Mac had walked toward their cart, toward the passenger side, where Jess rested her arm on the cart’s sturdy frame. Jess dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do you think the fates are trying to tell us something?”

  Mac looked serious. “I think if you can golf with someone, and they don’t make you want to pound your clubs into the ground, you have a chance to be good friends.”

  “You’re right. Friends. And I’ve played with a few people I wanted to strangle before the round was through.”

  “Please don’t confess homicidal fantasies to me. These days we have to take all threats seriously. I’ll have to report you.”

  Jess straightened up as she caught the stern expression. “I’m sorry, Mac. I didn’t mean…”

  Mac laughed and patted her arm. “Just kidding. I’d like to strangle some golfers, too.”

  Jess swatted her in return. “That wasn’t funny.”

  Mac wiggled her eyebrows, then turned and introduced her playing partner. Gayle offered them all a shot of Irish crème for their coffee and told them the coffee was optional. She opted for the coffee-free version and realized it was going to be an interesting round of golf. She was unsure if she’d be able to hit a shot knowing Mac was watching.

  The A group took the tee box and hit while Jess and her foursome stayed back, respectfully quiet as they watched the others. When the tee cleared, Mac looked at Jess and winked. “How about a wager, Doc?”