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Sin & Bone: A Medical Thriller (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 2)

Page 21

by Bette Golden Lamb


  “You promised, Jacob. No time for excuses. Is this gonna affect our deal, or what? Gotta know. Ain’t got no time to fool around. Need those packages. You got ‘til midnight!”

  Jacob kept shivering, but could feel the sweat dripping from under his arms. For the first time in years he was scared, scared of dying, scared of Milty.

  “I … I’m working … on it.”

  “You’re not shitting me, are you Jacob?”

  “No. You’ll have the packages. Tonight.”

  “Don’t play games with me.”

  “What’re you going to do Milty, kill me?”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “You know, Jacob, I’ve always thought you were a sick fuck, and I never asked you any questions that might mess up our little deal. But you if don’t come through, I’ll stuff your prick in your mouth and turn you into a package I can sell. A deal’s a deal.”

  Before Jacob could stutter a reply, the line went dead.

  ₪ CHAPTER 36

  It was almost noon before Pepper Yee found the time to request a plainclothes team to go find Eddie St. George and have a talk with him. In the meantime, she telephone-chased CHEMwest’s HR director to find out the extent of the drug rep’s sales territory. She wanted as much background on St. George as she could get, as quickly as possible.

  Yee caught the pharmaceutical company’s HR department head just as she was sitting down for some kind of professional luncheon meeting at the Fairmont Hotel.

  “Sorry to inconvenience you, ma’am, but I need the information right now,” Yee said. “Later this afternoon might be too late.” Not exactly the truth, but…

  “Everything’s in the computer,” the woman said impatiently.

  “And you can’t access that data with your iPod or Blackberry, or whatever is in your purse, or perhaps the hotel’s computer?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “How long could it take?”

  “I hope this is as important as you say it is. Hold on. I can’t do it here at the table.”

  In less than ten minutes Yee had the information she wanted. If Megan Ann Hendricks was alive and well and shacked up with the drug rep, that would take care of that. But if the nurse wasn’t there, then she wanted to be prepared – St. George was the first real lead in what she’d come to call the “Mazzio Muddle.”

  Yee called the SFPD’s IT computer geeks to find out if she could get data on all local female medical personnel who had been reported as missing persons over the past five years, women who had never been accounted for.

  “No problem, lieutenant,” said the on-duty nerd. “But we’ll need the request in writing.”

  “Yeah, yeah! Soon as we hang up. And while you’re at it, could you limit the printout to redheads, age 20 to 40, trim, no more than 150 pounds? It would speed things along.”

  “If the info’s available, we can get it for you.”

  “How long?”

  “You set the priority.”

  “ASAP.”

  “You got it.”

  “Good,” Yee said. “Now, what about other metro and county jurisdictions throughout the Bay Area, say as far south as San Jose?”

  “We have pretty good synergy with most of the police and sheriffs in the area. That’ll take a little longer, though.”

  “Just get me what I need. I’ll bring the written request right down.”

  Once she had the data from IT, she’d coordinate it with the info she’d been given by the CHEMwest HR director. She doubted it would take very long to catch any kind of a pattern that might make Eddie St. George a prime murder suspect.

  When Yee returned after taking her written request to IT, the switchboard had a message from Walter Cooke – he’d been tapped to do another dismemberment job at Auston’s Funeral Home. Tonight.

  Mazzio, Hendricks, and St. George would have to wait. She called her lieutenant.

  “This could be the night we catch Milty Hiller ass-deep in illegal human body parts,” she said. “Could you give us the leverage we need to shut down the entire operation.”

  “Go for it,” said the lieutenant. “How many people do you need?”

  “Soon as I locate Hiller, I’ll put a tail on him. He usually hangs out during the day at his discount camera shop on Market Street. I’d like to take Daniels with me, and I could use a couple of uniforms for backup.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Good work, Yee!”

  * * *

  After work, Gina Mazzio drove to Solomon’s, a local deli – it was almost as good as the ones in New York. She bought a turkey sandwich with onions and mayo on pumpernickel, and a cream soda to wash it down. Then she continued on her way to St. George’s apartment building.

  She was somewhat surprised to find that the drug rep lived in very posh Pacific Heights. She’d always assumed that people in that profession made a very good living, but this was beyond her expectations. She found a parking spot across the street from the building, nibbled on her turkey sandwich, and waited for some kind of plan to pop into her head. It was already dark so she didn’t feel quite so conspicuous sitting in her ancient Fiat in what was probably a very security-conscious neighborhood.

  While she was chewing on the last bite of her sandwich, a tan four-door sedan pulled up in front of the apartment building and double-parked. Two guys got out who looked and acted like cops. When they reached the lobby door, they pounded on the glass and flashed badges at the doorman.

  Yee had certainly taken her time.

  * * *

  “Mr. St. George, Edward St. George?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Detective Sorenson and this is Detective Delgado. We’re trying to locate a Megan Ann Hendricks. She’s been reported as a missing person.”

  “I don’t understand,” St. George said. “She’s only been staying here a couple of days. Isn’t there some kind of waiting period before the police act on a missing person report?”

  “Not when we have probable cause, sir. Now tell me, do you know where I might find Ms. Hendricks?

  “Well, she’s–” St. George looked back over his shoulder in the direction of the hallway leading to the master bedroom. “–she’s in the bedroom.”

  “Do you mind if we come in, Mr. St. George?” Sorenson said. He eased one foot inside the doorway without waiting for an answer.

  St. George opened the door wider and allowed both officers to step into the penthouse foyer. “Who filed the missing person report?”

  “I have no idea, sir. We just need to see Ms. Hendricks and determine if she’s unharmed and not being held against her will.”

  “Okay. I’ll go see if she’s, uh, presentable.”

  “If you don’t mind, sir, one of us needs to go with you.”

  “Just give me a moment, please. She was taking a shower when I came to answer the door.”

  “I’ll go,” said Delgado. She gave her partner a wry smile.

  Just then Megan Ann stepped out from the hallway, wearing a man’s t-shirt that covered everything, but hid nothing. She had an empty old-fashion glass in one hand. “Oh, goody! We have company.”

  Sorenson stared, mouth open, Delgado glared at her partner, and St. George felt himself flush.

  “Megan Ann,” St. George said softly, “don’t you think it would be a good idea for you to go back and put on some clothes?”

  “Are you Megan Ann Hendricks?” Sorenson asked before she could say anything.

  “Yep!”

  “Are you here of your own free will, Ms. Hendricks?”

  “You damn betcha!”

  “What do you think?” Sorenson said to Delgado.

  Delgado looked at her clipboard. “She certainly matches the description … and then some.”

  “Okay,” Sorenson said. “Sorry to have bothered you, Mr. St. George. Everything seems to be in order here. Is that correct Ms. Hendricks?”

  Megan Ann raised her empty glass in a toast. “Would be if I had a little vodka and ic
e in this glass.” She turned and giggled her way back down the hallway toward the bedroom.

  Delgado spun her partner around and St. George escorted the two of them back to the elevator. He waited until the indicator showed the car had reached the lobby level. Before he could begin to think about what their visit meant, the phone rang.

  Again!

  And again.

  St. George paced back and forth, covered his ears. Father had been calling consistently every fifteen minutes since yesterday. It seemed like the ringing would never stop.

  He tore at his hair, gouged the scars under his arms until blood trickled down his sides.

  “Stop it!”

  The incessant ringing was like nails being hammered into his skull.

  “Eddie!” Megan Ann called from the bedroom.

  He ignored her, grabbed the telephone. “What do you want, Father?”

  Silence.

  “I know it’s you. Leave me alone!” Eddie clutched at his chest – the tightness was squeezing him unbearably, his wheezes expanded to fill every space in the room.

  “Wimp!”

  “Stop it!”

  “Bring me that woman or you’ll take her place. Do you hear me?”

  Eddie hung up and reached for his inhaler, pulled in four quick puffs. His heart raced while he waited for air to fill his chest.

  “Eddie!” Megan Ann yelled.

  He moved into the kitchen.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  He took a new bottle of Absolut from the cupboard, filled a fresh glass with ice cubes, and left for the bedroom. Megan Ann was sprawled across the bed, eyes unfocused. He left the glass and vodka on the bedside table.

  Back in the living room, looking out across the city, St. George gave serious thought to who could have prompted the police to come to his place looking for Megan Ann. Somewhere along the line he’d made a mistake, left a trail.

  That worried him. Really worried him.

  If it could happen with her, could someone make a connection between him and the others he’d taken to Father?

  Tears ran down his cheeks. It was over. He should have stood up to Father years ago. It was time to break away, force Father to tell him where Mother was. Once he knew that, he could leave, close out his accounts, disappear.

  “Eddie!”

  Her voice lanced him like a sharp knife. One more decision to make. He walked slowly back to his bedroom.

  Megan Ann was sitting up, leaning against a pile of pillows stacked against the headboard. She was well into the bottle of Absolut he’d brought her only a short time ago, and the t-shirt was gone.

  She squirmed against the pillows, invited him to take her. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently lifted her head, and slipped a Roofie into her mouth. She reached for the glass of iced vodka and took a long drink.

  “Come to bed, Eddie. I need you. Real bad.” She ran her fingers slowly up and down the mound between her legs.

  St. George took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Soon.”

  * * *

  Gina sipped her cream soda, checked her watch, and waited. She assumed the next thing she would see was the pair of cops coming out with St. George between them.

  Ten minutes later, the cops exited the apartment, laughing, and alone. Where was St. George? Where was Megan Ann? And what was so damn funny?

  She felt pretty stupid. All this because St. George had gone on a date with Megan Ann. It looked like Detective Yee, Harry, and all the others were right – it all added up to a case of hot pants, nothing more.

  She studied the area: Tall buildings, all facing either a nearby park or the bay. What did the drug rep see from his windows?

  St. George: an elegant name. Well, he was kind of classy, just like all the other reps in their expensive clothes. Smooth and good-looking, they all looked more like celebrities than business people. There wasn’t an ugly duckling in the batch, at least not that Gina ever saw. Every one, man or woman, caught your attention.

  But there was something unusual about St. George. Yes, he was handsome, but his smile was forced and his eyes were almost always sad.

  Men! Always an enigma. And that made her think about Harry. What was she going to do? She couldn’t keep putting him off forever. She had to make a decision, one way or the other.

  Harry had tried hard last night to be objective about this whole business of the missing nurses. But it was really more than just that – he was tired of the tension over the getting/not getting married issue. And while he was sympathetic to her complaints about working in Advice rather than being involved in direct patient care – the kind of nursing that really meant something to her – her bouts of depression over her work situation had to be a real drag.

  Harry’s suggestion that she resign from Ridgewood and get into travel nursing with him was sounding better and better all the time. But was that the answer to their relationship problems? Or was that just doing another geographic and hoping for the best?

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. As soon as she found out what the real deal was with Megan Ann, she would have to get serious and do something about putting her life into some kind of order.

  ₪ CHAPTER 37

  Gina took a napkin from the take-out food bag and blotted each eye until she started to quiet down. She was tired of sitting, thinking, and staring at the apartment building. Now that the cops had come and gone, she wanted to find out for herself what was up with Eddie St. George and Megan Ann Hendricks.

  She forced herself out of the Fiat, ran across the street. The same gray-uniformed doorman was still there, sitting behind his desk, working a crossword puzzle. He looked up when she tapped on the glass door and buzzed her in. The door swished closed behind her.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes. I was going up to see Eddie St. George.” She stood there, certain the guard was scrutinizing her swollen eyes and rumpled clothes.

  He glanced from her to his puzzle, quickly filled in three or four squares, looked up again, and said, “Popular man this evening. I need to give Mr. St. George a call to let him know you’re here. Name, please?”

  “Mazzio; Gina Mazzio.” She smiled and pushed at her hair, waited while he punched in the number.

  When he hung up, he got up from behind the desk. “He said it’s okay.” He started toward the elevator and indicated she should follow.

  “I don’t need an escort,” she said.

  “It’s the penthouse,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  “So?”

  He held up a key ring. “Have to unlock the floor button for you.”

  On the way up, Gina fished in her purse for her lipstick, then used the polished brass plate of the floor selection panel as a mirror. She’d just zippered her purse together when the door opened and Eddie St. George stood there in front of her, smiling.

  She was caught up short. But he filled in the silence.

  “Ms. Mazzio! It’s so nice to see you again. And to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  “Is Megan Ann here? I need to talk to her.”

  “Oh?” He stepped away from the elevator door. “Yes, she’s here. Come on in.”

  She followed him into the living room, immediately noticing the sparkle of city lights through the penthouse windows. Megan Ann came down the hallway wearing only what was apparently Eddie’s V-neck tee shirt. It was obvious she had nothing on under the thin white cotton shirt. Also obvious that she was unharmed and perfectly happy. Looking at Megan Ann’s outfit, it made sense now why the two plain-clothes cops were laughing when they came back down.

  Yee’s right. There’s nothing going on here to make anyone suspicious. Just good old sex!

  “Gina Mazzio, RN, what are you doing here?” Megan Ann said, waving an empty old-fashion glass. “If you’re looking for a date, you’re too late. He’s mine!”

  “I got that,” Gina said. “I just wanted to see if you were all right … we’ve been worried about you at work.”

/>   “”Yeah, I know. Shoulda called in.” She gave a big double-shoulder shrug. “But that’s nice of you. Come on in and have a little drinky.”

  Gina smiled, shook her head, and looked at Eddie. He was fidgety and his face was bright red. But as far as Gina could see, there was nothing for him to be upset about. Maybe a little embarrassed, which she could understand. He was dressed in gray slacks and a midnight blue silk shirt; he could have stepped right out of a page in GQ. All he needed were wrap-around sunglasses, a Laguna Beach tan, and his usual gelled and spiky red hair, which was now flat against his head.

  Gina sat down on a plush love seat; Megan Ann plopped down beside her. “I was worried about you. Helen told me you’ve been out sick. Guess I wanted to see for myself, make sure you’re all right.”

  “That’s so nice of you,” Megan Ann said, each word articulating into a slur. “Did you meet Eddie? He’s so sweet. Treats me like a queen.”

  Gina looked up at Eddie; his green eyes were moist and he looked as if he were about to cry.

  “And what made you think you’d find Megan Ann here?” he asked softly.

  “I knew she had a date with you the other night,” Gina said with a self-conscious laugh. “And we haven’t been able to reach her since then.”

  Gina tried for an innocent look, hoping Eddie would buy it. “Just a shot in the dark, really,” she said.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Megan Ann piped in. “A shot or two sounds exactly what we could all use about now.” She waved a hand at Gina, then Eddie. “She and I had a fight over you, didja know that?” She curled up into the corner of the sofa.

  Eddie looked confused. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “She’s exaggerating,” Gina said.

  “She does that sometimes,” he said, trying to make light of it. “But I’m forgetting my manners. May I get you something to drink?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Gina emphasized her response with a shake of her head. “I really should go. I’m imposing.”

  “Not at all.” He smiled again. “You certainly have time for a glass of Pellagrino, with a touch of lemon?”

  “Or how about some vodka, for me,” Megan Ann said. “With a touch of Eddie.” She giggled and started to doze off

 

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