Battle Tested

by Laura Scott

  “I’m not involved,” Leo said between gritted teeth. “I never did anything to hurt you.”

  Except cheat on her, she thought, but whatever. None of that mattered anymore. She glanced at her watch again. “You’re right, you didn’t do anything to physically hurt me. Let’s keep it that way, okay? I have to go.”

  This time, Leo didn’t stop her as she headed down the hall, walking fast. When she reached the elevators, she grimaced and took the stairs instead in an effort to save time.

  If she missed Lieutenant Colonel Flintman because of Leo’s ridiculously bruised ego over being questioned by Blackwood, she would be so ticked.

  The stairwell took her up to the fourth floor. She was breathing heavily by then, inwardly annoyed at her failure to stay in shape.

  When she headed down the hallway, she hesitated, realizing that this corridor was remarkably similar to the hallway from the night of her attack. The lights were set low, since it was after regular business hours. She shivered, battling a wave of apprehension as she remembered, all too clearly, the horror as strong fingers wrapped around her throat.

  Maybe she should have called Security Forces to accompany her here to Flintman’s office. But it was too late now.

  “Give me strength, Lord,” she whispered. Ignoring her fear, she quickened her pace so she didn’t miss the chance to speak to Aiden’s doctor.

  The door to Flintman’s office was closed. Worried that he’d already left, she knocked on the door and listened for sounds of activity from inside.

  She didn’t hear anything. Twisting the door handle, she was surprised it gave. Flintman must not have left yet for the evening, or surely the door would have been locked.

  Stepping across the threshold, she entered a plush reception area. Flintman’s usual administrative assistant wasn’t seated at the desk, the woman she’d spoken to must have left for the day. No one was in the waiting room, either, and Flintman’s office door was closed.

  Did he have a patient in there? As a nurse, she knew that she couldn’t just barge in and interrupt a private therapy session. She hesitated, thinking it was possible he was simply staying late to finish up some paperwork. Stepping quietly, she moved toward the door and pressed her ear against the wooden door, listening intently.

  She didn’t hear the sound of muted voices, but for all she knew, the office was soundproofed. She debated sitting down to wait for a bit, then realized how foolish that would be if Flintman wasn’t even in there.

  Gathering her courage, she sharply rapped her knuckles against the office door. After what seemed like forever, the door opened and the balding middle-aged doctor, wearing his dress uniform complete with the silver lieutenant colonel leaf on his collar, stood across from her. Flintman looked happy to see her, peering with anticipation from behind his thick glasses.

  Catching a whiff of his stale aftershave, she wrinkled her nose, remembering the same icky scent the night of her attack. Her eyes widened in horror as the memory clicked. But before she could move, Lieutenant Colonel Flintman roughly grabbed her and pulled her inside his office, slamming the door behind her.

  Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun.

  What? Vanessa couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Clearly, Flintman was the one who’d attacked her a week ago. Was he responsible for all the attacks? Or had Boyd done some of them?

  And why would Flintman target her in the first place?

  “Well, well. I knew it was only a matter of time until you figured it all out,” Flintman said, his tone conversational.

  “Figure out what?” she asked, trying not to stare at the gun in his hand.

  “You know,” he admonished, as if she was being obtuse on purpose. “Tyraxal.”

  “T-Tyraxal?” she stuttered, wondering how long it would take Isaac to realize she was in danger.

  Too long.

  Even if Isaac finished with the commander and returned to Aiden, her brother was in no shape to talk about whatever he’d seen during his therapy appointment.

  Or maybe it was more what Flintman had said to Aiden. Had the psychiatrist threatened to hurt Vanessa? Was that what had sent Aiden reeling backward? She kicked herself, belatedly understanding that the reason Aiden had been doing so well was because he had been skipping his appointments with Flintman.

  Until she’d forced him to return.

  Oh, Aiden, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Please forgive me.

  Flintman let out a harsh laugh. “You’re too smart for your own good, Lieutenant,” he said, waving the gun as he spoke.

  She needed to stay sharp, to stall as long as possible. “You’re selling Tyraxal prescriptions, aren’t you? To the highest bidder.”

  His expression twisted with hate. “Not selling, providing, all because of a small mistake I made—going into debt while gambling. The Olio Crime Organization set me up with the bookie and things went well for a while, until I started to lose, badly. When I tried to get out, they threatened to go to the lieutenant general if I didn’t cooperate as their drug supplier. In order to pay off my debt, I had to give them Tyraxal prescriptions. Don’t you see? I’m in line for a promotion to full colonel and even if I wasn’t, I can’t afford to lose my pension!”

  Blackmail? She hadn’t even considered that possibility. Even so, she couldn’t feel sorry for the man who’d callously caused so much suffering. “You violated your own medical ethics as a way to protect yourself?”

  He scowled and took a step toward her. “Yes, I did. I’ve given the government twenty-five years of my life. There’s no way I’m going to stand by and watch everything I’ve worked for go down the drain. Besides, it’s not my fault people are getting hooked on drugs. If not Tyraxal, it would be something else.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or another.

  She shuddered with distaste.

  “The people using the meds wanted more and more, so I had to get creative, making all kinds of aliases for patients so we wouldn’t get flagged by the government.”

  She knew he was referring to the new federal regulations that closely monitored prescriptions for controlled substances. If he wasn’t careful, his name would be flagged as a high prescriber in the system.

  If someone bothered to look. If the people buying scripts used a variety of pharmacies, his name wouldn’t be easily flagged.

  Keep him talking.

  “And then your so-called patients started dying,” she said.

  He waved the gun again, as if that was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Not that many at first. Regardless, once you left me that voice mail message, I knew you were standing in the way of me meeting my goal. I only needed a few more months to get my promotion and retire as a full colonel. I decided it was time to get rid of you. Conveniently, you were targeted by the Red Rose Killer, so I knew your death would be pinned on Sullivan.”

  She swallowed a wave of nausea, remembering the words he’d whispered in her ear. Because you’re in my way. She shook off the memory, trying to stay focused. “Okay, fine, you wanted me out of the way, but why attack Aiden?”

  Flintman’s expression went cold. “He saw me meeting with my contact within the Olio Crime Organization and overheard us talking. I figured, since you left the voice mail that same day, that your brother might have told you what he’d heard.”

  Thinking back, she realized that the day she found the puppies was the same day Aiden had been huddled in the corner of the living room when she’d come home. No wonder he’d started canceling his appointments. She wished she would have left it alone, rather than forcing Aiden to return to see Flintman.

  It hurt her to realize Aiden’s latest regression was completely her fault. But this wasn’t the time to wallow in remorse.

  Keep him talking!

  “What happened earlier this afternoon?”

  Flintman shrugged. “My con
tact came in again, only this time, we argued. I wasn’t happy that these overdose cases were showing up at Canyon. He was supposed to keep the scripts off base. It was part of our deal. I demanded to speak to his boss, but he took a swing at me, so I grabbed the paperweight off my desk and hit him in the head.” He shrugged. “You know how much head wounds bleed. I didn’t kill the guy. He left on his own two feet. But I didn’t realize anyone was near, until I heard footsteps rushing out of the waiting area.” His eyes gleamed with madness. “I knew then that Aiden had heard everything.”

  She knew Flintman was pathologically criminal and possibly insane. She could easily picture Aiden lingering after his appointment in order to hear what Flintman and his buyer were saying, until the assault and blood transported him back in time to when he’d witnessed his buddy’s death from a suicide bomber.

  Poor Aiden. None of this was his fault; it was all on her. Because she’d raised the alarm about Tyraxal.

  She thrust her chin forward and put on a brave front. “You bashed in my car window as a warning, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted you to be afraid of being here at the hospital. You could have easily taken a leave of absence or something. But here you are.”

  “And the truck that tried to hit us? The shots outside the Winged Java? Did you arrange for those events, too?”

  He smiled, and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck lifted in alarm. “It’s amazing what some people will do for another prescription of Tyraxal, isn’t it?”

  She could barely stand to look at him. Dear Lord, help me escape this evil man!

  “So now what? You’re just going to shoot me here in your office? Talk about a stupid move. It won’t take long for Captain Blackwood and his team to figure out the link between my death and Tyraxal. Especially because I’ve shared my suspicions about you with the team.”

  That information caught him off guard, and he took a threatening step toward her. “You told them about me?”

  Stretching the truth didn’t come easy, but her desperate situation required it. She scoffed, as if he was an idiot. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? You went overboard with all these attempts to harm me, so I had to tell Captain Blackwood everything, including my concerns about you using too much Tyraxal. Don’t you see? Killing me will point the finger of guilt directly at you.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “No way. If anyone within Security Forces knew you were here, they’d already be banging down my door. But thanks for the warning. It’s time for us to get out of here.” He leered at her. “And when I’m finished with you? Guess who the next victim of a Tyraxal overdose will be?”

  No! Not Aiden! She tried to think of a way out of this mess. If only she hadn’t left Eagle behind.

  “Wait, one more question. Did you arrange for someone to try stealing the puppies from my house?”

  Flintman nodded. “I convinced one of my prescription buyers to do the deed, promising to give him six months of Tyraxal for free. I wanted those puppies gone, since Aiden used them as an excuse to cancel his appointments with me. Too bad the moron got himself killed.”

  The way he’d tried to manipulate Aiden made her stomach burn with anger. The despicable man had attempted to hurt her brother worse than if he’d simply stabbed him.

  “I tried to kill you and Aiden in one fell swoop using the truck to attack you, but after that failed, I knew I needed to take care of you myself. Thanks for calling to make an appointment with me. You really helped make things easy.” He glanced around the office. “Enough talking. It’s time for action.”

  Action? She dreaded the thought of leaving the hospital, fearing Isaac might never find her.

  “Move. Now!” Flintman aimed the gun at her face. “Don’t try anything stupid. We’re going to walk out of here together.”

  She wasn’t sure how to stall for more time. He’d admitted to most everything, but only because he planned to kill her and eventually Aiden, too. This man had violated his code of medical ethics all to protect his reputation, rank and retirement.

  Not caring how many innocent lives he’d sacrificed along the way.

  Please, Lord, help me! Give me Your strength and wisdom! Don’t let this horrible man get away with cold-blooded murder!

  * * *

  Isaac and Eagle arrived at Flintman’s office well before Justin or his team did. He hesitated, wondering if he should wait for backup, but overwhelming concern for Vanessa had him opening the door and stepping inside the plush office.

  Loud voices from behind the door leading into Flintman’s office indicated there was trouble. Isaac unleashed Eagle, knowing that the well-trained, protective K-9 was the only weapon he had.

  He stepped toward Flintman’s office door when it abruptly swung open, revealing Vanessa. For a fraction of a second her eyes widened in surprise, then she mouthed the word gun and abruptly dropped down to her knees.

  “Attack!” Isaac ordered as he dove to the floor. Thankfully they seemed to catch Flintman off guard as Eagle went over and clamped his jaw around the man’s right ankle with a low, fierce growl.

  “Owww!” Flintman screamed, wildly waiving his gun. “Grab the dog off me! I’ll shoot him! I’ll shoot you all!”

  Vanessa abruptly lunged to her feet, kicking Flintman directly in the left kneecap. He howled in pain and teetered precariously, attempting to maintain his balance. Isaac used the moment to rush forward and grab the guy’s wrist, roughly twisting the gun from his hand.

  Flintman cried out again then crumpled to the floor. Isaac tossed the weapon aside and jumped onto the prone figure of the doctor, pressing his face against the floor. “It’s over, Flintman. You’re a disgrace to your rank and profession.”

  “Too bad I missed when I took that shot at your stupid dog, Beacon,” the doc muttered.

  “What did you say?” Isaac was dumbfounded by the man’s confession. Had Flintman really been the one to shoot at Beacon during the animal’s homecoming? It hadn’t been a shot meant for Vanessa?

  “You heard me.” The man struggled against his weight. “Let me up! I’m hurt! I need medical help!”

  “Why?” Isaac was truly bewildered by the psychiatrist’s attempt to harm Beacon.

  “You chased me off the night I tried to take care of Vanessa. After that, I thought if I got rid of the dog, you’d go into a deep pit of despair.” Flintman flashed an evil smile.

  Isaac was shocked by the news and understood that Flintman was likely responsible for everything that had transpired in the past week. None of it had been related to Boyd Sullivan.

  Flintman continued wiggling beneath him. “Get off me! She broke my knee and the dog bit me! I demand to see a doctor!”

  “Roll him over,” Vanessa instructed, dropping down to her knees beside Flintman. “I need to take a look at his injuries.”

  Isaac reluctantly did as she requested. “One false move and I’ll kick your other knee,” he warned as he released his hold on the older man. “Eagle, guard.”

  The Doberman came over and sat right next to Flintman’s head, showing his teeth. Vanessa smiled weakly, then leaned over to examine the man’s injuries. “Does this hurt?” she asked as she gently palpated his swollen knee.

  “Yes.” Flintman peered up at her, his glasses sitting askew on his face. “I knew you cared.”

  “What?” Vanessa reared back, staring at Flintman as if shocked by his statement.

  “Something wrong?” Isaac crouched beside her.

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “It’s just that Boyd Sullivan said the exact same thing to me when I provided first aid to him in the dark alley all those years ago.”

  He nodded, still not understanding her reaction. But at that moment, the door to Flintman’s office burst open. Justin and his K-9, Quinn, led the way inside, followed by other armed cops.

  “You’
re late to the party,” Isaac said, relieved that the danger was over. “I disarmed Flintman. His weapon is in the corner.”

  “I’ve got it,” one of the cops announced as he carefully picked up the gun between two fingers and dropped it into an evidence bag.

  “You’ll want to test it for ballistics,” Isaac said. “Flintman admitted he was the one who took a shot at Beacon at his homecoming. It’s likely he was also the one who tried to shoot Vanessa at Winged Java.”

  “He was the one who attacked me, broke my car window, hired that guy to steal the puppies and hired the man who tried to run us over with a truck,” Vanessa added. “All because I raised the alarm over the recent Tyraxal overdoses. Apparently, he’s being blackmailed by the Olio Crime Organization and as a result has been giving them Tyraxal prescriptions.”

  “Unbelievable,” Justin muttered.

  “Oh, and you might want to go through his office, too,” Vanessa added. “He mentioned assaulting one of his contacts with a paperweight. He claims he didn’t kill the guy, but the paperweight may still have trace evidence on it.”

  “We’ll go over the place carefully,” Justin assured her, his expression bleak.

  Isaac understood that finding evidence against Flintman and arresting him for the recent events meant the Security Forces team was no closer to finding Boyd Sullivan.

  For all they knew, Sullivan may not even be on base.

  “I want a lawyer,” Flintman said. “I’ll give you evidence against the Olio Crime Organization if you’ll cut me a deal.”

  The thought of Flintman getting a deal made Isaac furious, but he understood how the system worked. Besides, at this rate, the guy would be too old to be a threat by the time he got out of jail.

  “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get a lawyer.” Blackwood stood over Flintman, looking down at the guy with disgust. “But don’t pin your hopes on getting a deal. If I can link you to the recent overdoses, you’ll be on trial for murder.”