by Rita Herron
It would serve Langley right to see both the women he cared for suffer.
Gioni suddenly twitched and opened her eyes. The realization was immediate.
She tried to scream, but he laughed and clamped his hand over her lips, then jerked her head back so hard her eyes bulged.
Cold terror and confusion mingled in her expression. She had no idea who he was.
But he knew her.
And it was payback time for her and Langley.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NETTLETON HID in the corner hallway of the hospital, listening to the nurses discuss Vernon Hanks.
Apparently they hadn’t been able to revive him from the heart attack.
He silently whistled a sigh of relief as he shed his garb. Thankfully, no one had seen him exiting the man’s room.
And now he had enough suppositions on Booker and Dr. Liam Langley to spice up his story. Had Langley given White something to make him go into cardiac arrest?
And if so, had Langley crossed the line with other patients?
Nettleton’s heart accelerated at the mere thought of such smut on a prestigious doctor like Langley. It was too good to be true.
Obviously he wasn’t as clean and pristine as the image he portrayed to the public. Ironic how, when Daddy’s little princess had fallen from grace, she’d dragged Daddy down with her.
Nettleton slicked back his hair, waited until the small group of gossipers disbanded, then picked out a bland young nurse in her early thirties, deciding she wasn’t so pretty she would snub him or so geekish she’d turn her nose up at an advance.
He made it a point to read her nametag before he approached and introduced himself. A few minutes and several compliments later, he had her eating out of the palm of his hand.
“Tell me about Dr. Langley. It must have been hard for him after his daughter was kidnapped.”
“It was.” Tina flicked her brown bob with her fingers. “I heard he hasn’t been the same since his wife died. But there’s a rumor that he and his assistant, Gioni Kerr, are an item.”
“A hospital romance,” Nettleton said with a smile.
“Yes, Gioni would do anything for him. A lot of people around here are very loyal to him.”
“And this guy, Hanks—when he attacked Dr. Langley’s daughter, the doc must have been really upset.”
“Of course.” Tina’s small eyes scrunched together. “I mean, Hanks is that creepy copycat killer, isn’t he?”
Nettleton almost laughed at the panic on her young face, but shrugged, noncommittal. “Were you here when William White was brought in for treatment?”
Tina hesitated, then picked at a piece of lint on her bright pink nurse’s pants. “I…no. Not exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was still in training, but I did a shift in the E.R.”
“So you heard talk about the night White was brought in?”
For the first time since he’d spoken to the woman, she fidgeted, looked uncomfortable.
“I really can’t say, Mr. Nettleton. I’d better get back to work.”
He caught her hand, rubbed his thumb along her palm, saw her shiver. Then she looked into his eyes and he knew he had her. “What happened that night, Tina?”
She chewed her bottom lip, then motioned for him to follow her into the lounge. He did, excitement mounting. She was going to spill all Liam Langley’s dirty little secrets.
* * *
LIAM HAD TO TALK TO Gioni.
She was the only one who saw the entire picture. She would tell him what to do.
And she would stand by him all the way. Because she knew his secrets. And she hadn’t judged him for what he’d done. No, she’d understood.
But what would Lisa say if she found out the truth?
Would she hate him more than she did already? Despise him for not protecting her again?
Cut him out of her life entirely?
He flattened his clammy hands on his face, scrubbing downward in frustration, then grabbed some coffee. He hadn’t slept a wink all night. Had convinced himself that he had nothing to do with these women’s deaths.
But the eerie premonition that he was wrong had latched on to his conscience and wouldn’t let go.
Exhaling to calm himself, he picked up the phone and dialed Gioni. The phone trilled and rang, over and over.
He checked his watch. It was early. But Gioni was a morning person.
Maybe she was in the shower.
He’d stop by her apartment. Maybe she could alleviate his worries. And maybe they’d get a quickie in before they went to his office.
* * *
“I’LL DRIVE YOU BACK to Ellijay, Lisa,” Brad said. “But I want to stop and see if Hanks has regained consciousness first. And then I’ll go to the station and see Thigs.”
“I told you, Brad, I’m not ready to return to Ellijay.”
Brad cradled her elbows in his hands and forced her to look at him. “Lisa, I saw how happy you were in the mountains. You had friends, a job you like, those pictures of the kids on the wall.” He braced himself for a goodbye. “You’re a born teacher. You were meant to find someone who can love you, someone who’ll settle down with you, have a family.”
Lisa hesitated, looked into his eyes. He sensed an unspoken question, one she already knew the answer to.
He wasn’t the man to give her all that.
Still, she waited a fraction of a second longer. In her eyes, he saw hurt when he didn’t reply. Acceptance. Maybe even understanding. Something he didn’t deserve, not after the way he’d taken her all night.
“I should get dressed then,” she finally said.
He simply nodded.
The shower water kicked on, and he imagined her body slick with soap and water, saw himself climbing into the spray with her and running his fingers and lips over every inch of that beautiful skin. The skin he’d memorized. The body he knew so well.
The woman he thought he couldn’t live without.
The woman he’d protect by letting her go back to her safe life.
Convinced he was doing the right thing for her, for both of them, he dressed quickly, made a pot of coffee, then left food and water on the back stoop for the dog. When Lisa reappeared, dressed in jeans and a V-necked blue T-shirt, he handed her a cup of coffee, and they headed outside. He was starving, so he pulled into a drive-thru and ordered a couple of sausage biscuits. Lisa merely nibbled on hers while he downed his in three bites. The sex had made him hungry.
The woman beside him made him hungrier.
But he’d have to settle for breakfast.
Lisa was quiet, looking out the window, and although he wanted to be ecstatic that they’d caught the right man, a bad feeling settled in his gut. Hanks hadn’t confessed to the murders.
* * *
HANKS WAS DEAD. A heart attack in the night. He had to tell Lisa. The facts of the case rolled through Brad’s head again, and he had the distinct feeling that if the man was guilty, he’d want to brag about his crimes. The profiler’s comments rushed back—how he was socially inept. Had probably tried to make it as a cop or doctor or some other high profile job but failed.
On a hunch, Brad called Ethan from the car. “Listen, did you ever look at that list of applicants for the police force or the Bureau, the ones who didn’t make it?”
“I just received it, haven’t had time to look at it yet.”
“Scroll down,” Brad said, “and see if there are any names you recognize. Anyone local.”
Brad glanced at Lisa and saw her watching him, but he turned back to the road, waiting on his partner.
“Booker?”
“Yeah?”
“Shit, you aren’t going to believe this.”
“What?”
“You know that guy Surges who got sick at the crime scenes.”
Brad swallowed, the bad feeling in his stomach growing. “Yeah?”
“Four years ago, he applied to the academy, but they turned him d
own. He barely slid in by the skin of his teeth last year.”
“Jesus.” Brad muttered a curse. “Call Rosberg and have him get Surges in for questioning.”
“Will do.”
Brad hung up, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Surges appeared to be a weakling emotionally, yet physically he might be strong. He could be frustrated because he wanted to be a cop but didn’t have the stomach for it. And Brad had felt sorry for the guy. Hell, Brad had even stationed him beside Lisa at the last scene to protect her.
“What was that about?” she asked.
He explained about Hanks’s death and his suspicions about Surges, hating the renewed look of fear on her face.
“So if this cop’s the killer, then he was at the crime scenes. He could have altered the evidence.”
Brad nodded. “And he found the note at the cabin that day.”
“He could have put it there.”
Brad nodded again. But his cell phone rang before he could elaborate. “Booker here.”
“Agent Booker?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Dr. Langley’s assistant, Gioni.” The woman’s voice sounded muffled. Or maybe they had a bad connection. “Is Lisa Langley with you?”
“Yes.”
“May I speak to her, please?”
He gave a clipped yes, then handed Lisa the phone. “It’s your father’s assistant, Gioni.”
Lisa frowned. “Hello.” She hesitated. “Yes, Gioni, I’ll have Brad drop me off.”
Lisa hung up, looking puzzled.
“What’s going on?”
“She wants me to come to her place. She said my dad’s going to meet us there, that he has something to tell me.”
“I’ll drop you off, and pick you up after I check on Surges.”
Lisa gave him directions to a condominium complex near the hospital, and he maneuvered through traffic, finding it with no problem. He parked and Lisa reached for the door.
“I’m walking you in.”
“Brad, that’s not necessary.”
“Indulge me. I’m not taking any chances until I know for sure that Hanks or Thigs is the Grave Digger.”
She nodded and climbed out, and he escorted her up the sidewalk. Lisa rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Brad tried the knob, and the door swung open. Instantly alert, he reached for his gun, pushed Lisa behind him and slipped inside.
Seconds later, something hard slammed against his head. His legs buckled and his gun went skittering across the floor. He tried to crawl toward it, but the intruder grabbed it first and fired. A bullet pierced Brad’s shoulder and tossed his body backward.
Lisa screamed and reached for him, but the man grabbed her, then fired the gun again. The second bullet zinged through Brad, ripping into his chest.
He coughed up blood, then the world went black.
* * *
LIAM TRIED GIONI on his cell phone as he drove toward her apartment, cursing when she didn’t answer. He dialed the hospital to see if she’d arrived early, but the receptionist hadn’t seen her.
His chest tightened. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.
The things he’d learned about Darcy Mae Richards the night before taunted him with what-ifs. He’d spent half the night doing research, the other half telling himself he was losing his mind to even contemplate such a possibility, that if he went to Booker with his theory the agent would not only think he was crazy, but Liam would be putting his career on the line. Maybe for nothing.
His tires screeched as he steered his Lexus into the parking lot, then a siren wailed behind him. He cursed, assuming a policeman had caught him speeding, but glanced in his rearview window. An ambulance raced behind the police car, fast on its tail.
His pulse kicked into overdrive.
The next second he spotted Booker’s black sedan, and panic rolled through him. He slammed on his brakes, threw the car into Park and bolted out of it. The two officers in the police car beat him to Gioni’s door. The paramedics jumped from the ambulance and rushed up behind them.
“Wait, sir,” a heavyset officer ordered Langley. “Someone called it in, there was gunfire. The shooter may still be inside.”
“But I’m a doctor,” Langley said. “This condo belongs to my assistant.”
“We’ll let you know when it’s clear.”
The officers removed their weapons and checked the apartment. Seconds later, one of them ran out and motioned toward the paramedics. “Get a stretcher in here now!” He glanced at Langley. “We have a cop down, and an injured woman.”
“Gioni.” Liam ran inside, his heart thundering. Booker lay on the floor in a puddle of blood, while Gioni had been tied and gagged near the sofa. He stopped to check for a pulse on Booker. “He’s alive.”
Then he ran to Gioni. The other cop was untying her. She was unconscious, had been beaten badly, but he thought she would survive. That is, unless she had internal injuries.
His heart pounding, Langley began barking orders left and right while the paramedics lifted Booker onto the stretcher.
Gioni roused and tried to speak, dried blood crusting her lip. “He took…Lisa,” she whispered.
“What?” He clutched her hand, hating the sight of her swollen, bruised face, the black-and-blue marks on her arms. “Who?”
“Grave Digger,” she said with a raggedy cry. “So sorry, Liam…had to call.”
“Jesus.” He yelled at the cop to phone in Lisa’s disappearance, then swallowed back bile. Gioni had called Lisa, and she and Booker had walked into a trap.
Booker didn’t look good. Liam wasn’t sure if he’d even make it.
And if they didn’t find Lisa, she wouldn’t, either.
* * *
LISA DID NOT WANT TO DIE. Not now. She had too much to live for.
She’d just found Brad. Had discovered the sweet, wonderful feeling of being in love. Of having a sexual relationship. Of feeling whole and having hope for a future.
Brad.
Tears streamed down her face as she struggled with the bindings around her arms and ankles. He’d been shot trying to save her. The blood…it had been everywhere.
Was he still alive?
Grief swelled inside her, an ache so deep and horrible that she brought her knees up to her chest and rocked herself back and forth, the sound of her sobs filling the still, dank air.
And Gioni—poor Gioni. Her father’s assistant had been beaten so severely she’d been unconscious. Would she survive?
Her father’s face flashed into her mind. He’d lost her mother and had been devastated. What would it do to him to lose Gioni?
And now her….
More tears streamed down her face and into her hair, the cold terror gripping her.
She had no idea where she was. Or how long she’d been here. But she wasn’t in the box. Not yet. If so, she wouldn’t be able to move.
Maybe there was time.
The dark shadows of the room clawed at her with the realization that she was helpless, though, taking her back to another time. To four years ago, when she’d almost lost her life.
Anger suddenly surfaced, battling its way through the terror, and she tried to roll sideways to study the room.
Then she saw his eyes. Dark, evil, piercing orbs shining like two black pieces of coal suspended in a surreal world where a predator stalked his captive before the kill.
She refused to show him her fear.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He smiled, crooked teeth flashing in the night. “Don’t you know, Lisa?”
She squinted, but it was so dark all she could see was the faint outline of a man’s face. Smell the stench of a sour odor that probably existed only in her mind, it was so evil. His voice didn’t sound familiar, either.
“Tell me,” she said, at least wanting a name to use when she addressed him.
“William.”
She frowned, shaking her head. She had seen this man somewhere. At the crime scenes, maybe.
“William is dead.”
“No… Your father gave him new life. And now he lives in me.” His voice sounded hollow, rough like sandpaper. He reached out, ran a blunt fingernail across her brow. She shuddered, recoiling as her stomach convulsed. “I was weak before, but he made me strong. And he wants me to have you.”
Swallowing back the bile in her throat, she licked her dry lips. It was so hot, a million degrees in the room. The air was stifling, sticky and filled with an acrid odor.
The shadow of his movements caught in a tiny stream of light. Sweat trickled along his jaw, and he wiped it away, then turned a bottle of water up and drank greedily. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he filled his mouth with more. Water leaked from the bottle, spilling from his lips and running down his neck.
Her mouth clenched, the dry insides sticking together.
Instead of offering her a drink, he wiped a tear from her cheek, then lifted his finger to her mouth. “Are you thirsty, Lisa?”
She bit down on her lip, refusing to lick his finger.
Maybe if she stalled, Brad would find her.
Only he had been bleeding so badly… What if he didn’t make it? Grief consumed her again, powerful and all-consuming. A sob escaped, from deep within her soul.
But his laughter brought it to a halt.
She had to hold on to hope, do something, find out why he was doing this. “I don’t understand,” she finally whispered.
He suddenly gripped his head, shaking it back and forth, then stood and moved across the dark room like an animal that had been caged. “Neither did I. Not at first. All I wanted was a chance to live, to be someone, to make it as a cop.”
His voice had changed, become lower, softer. More ominous.
“All my life, I dreamed of being a detective or an FBI agent.” He halted, ripped open his shirt. She stared at the long jagged scar, the puckered flesh where he’d had heart surgery, and horror dawned.
“But my heart was too damn weak before,” he said in a feeble voice.
“You couldn’t pass the physical,” Lisa whispered.
He shook his head again, a wild, strange look in his eyes as he approached her, his voice rising with agitation, “Don’t you see? They wouldn’t let me in the Bureau. It was all I ever wanted to do, and they refused me. But after the transplant I was stronger. White gave me life. I’m a new man.”