The shocked look on Marty’s face was answer enough for Sara. “The man’s a freak, and I don’t give a damn how much money he has. I told him today that I’m on the verge of getting a restraining order against him.” He raised his hands in a motion to calm her down, “Now, let’s not get hasty here. I’ve known Walter for three decades. While he’s a bit eccentric and unorthodox in his approach, I assure you he didn’t intend to frighten or offend you in any way. He’s quite harmless; he’s just not well oriented when it comes to dealing with women.” “Yea…well, tell that to the board and see what they have to say about it!” “Sara, you’re getting off topic. This is about your future in medicine. I’m quite certain that I can speak with Walter, and he will cease the advances.” “And if you tell him to leave me alone, that I meant what I said, and that I have no interest in him, he’s still going to put pressure on you and the board and offer me that blank check?” “Mr. Cruthers may be unorthodox, but he’s a fabulous businessman. He knows an asset when he sees one. Tell you what, I will speak to Walter and explain how you feel about this and talk everything over with him, if you will promise me to keep an open mind and at least think over the offer until your hopefully not final shift on Friday.” She looked at him thoughtfully.
“Sara, not to pry too much, but could your judgment in this matter also be clouded by bad memories?” She suddenly looked as though she had been hit by a fast moving train. She was quiet for several minutes, and Marty entertained the silence. “Bad memories,” she said, looking off into space. “Marty, it never crossed my mind!” “Not your conscious mind, but what about your subconscious mind? You forget what I did for a living before I became the administrator of this institution.” “You were a psychiatrist,” she said softly almost under her breath. He nodded. “Bad memories…” And like a flood gate opening, her tears began to flow. “Yes, Sara, bad memories. You know what I’m talking about. Did it ever occur to you that you took the job at Scripps for lower pay not just to be closer to family but to try and escape something here?” The whole of the conversation struck her like a lightning bolt, and those memories flooded back. “I hadn’t thought of it until this very second, Marty. Until you reminded me. You’re right. I am running. Running from my memories of Amber.” “I didn’t want to bring it up. It’s been several years, but I thought that it needed to be said. This is your future we’re talking about. I know that you and Amber were best friends and went through medical school and your residencies here.” She nodded. “And it was here in this very office that I sat with you and her husband, John, and a lot of police officers when they told us that she had been murdered.” “Not just murdered, Marty…raped, tortured, and dumped nude in a dumpster behind the House of Pancakes. She didn’t deserve to die like that.” “No one deserves that.”
“Oh God! I remember the funeral and John, my God, poor John. There was no way to console him.” “You two were close and remained friends, if I remember correctly, after Amber was murdered. Have you spoken to him recently?” “Um…I called his cell a few months ago, but he didn’t return my call. The last time I spoke to him would have been…six months ago. I told him I was finishing up my fellowship here but didn’t know where I was going to be when I was done. He told me he had been promoted to detective and was now working homicide.” “I had no idea. Is he looking for Amber’s killer?” She shook her head. “Not according to what he told me. When we talked he said there were no new leads and that Amber’s file was now in the cold case department. I asked if he was searching for the killer, and he said that officially he couldn’t because it would be a conflict of interest, and the department would not allow it because he couldn’t be impartial. But he loved her with every ounce of his being. He might not be allowed to look formally, but I’m certain he’s looking on his own.” “You should try to reach out to him again, Sara; he might help you get a little more perspective on what you’re facing and the decisions that are ahead of you. Do I have your word you will think about the counteroffer?” She nodded, thanked him, and then excused herself.
She walked to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face and then went to the doctor’s lounge. She took out her cell phone and called John’s number. Much to her surprise, he answered. “John… it’s Sara. How are you?” There was a moment of silence before John responded, “Sara…wow! It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing well, working hard but doing well. How are you doing?” She spent a few minutes talking to him about what was going on, and he asked if she had time to grab a bite to eat. She quickly answered yes and told him she was afraid that he was angry with her and wanted to cut their ties when she didn’t hear back from him. John offered his apologies and an explanation of being backlogged with work.
“I’ve been working with the county Sheriff’s Department and the FBI on some cold case serial killings.” She asked if he still thought that Amber was the victim of a serial killer. He coughed a little on the other end of the line and said, “Oh Sara…it’s seems like a lifetime since I lost Amber. A lot of water has passed under the bridge. How about I pick you up at the hospital, and we catch up?” “You have a deal. Are you local?” “As strange as it might sound, I’m sitting at the corner of Reseda and Roscoe looking at the sign pointing toward the ER.” “Why don’t you meet me at my car? I’m parked in structure one right next to the ER.” She asked if he knew where that was but quickly realized her mistake. “You know the parking lot. I’m sorry.” “Not at all, Sara. It’s been a long time. You’re on the second level, correct?” “Yes. I’m still driving my silver BMW.” “I’m pulling around the corner now, and I’ll meet you by your car. I’m in a black Chevy Silverado.” She picked up her purse and told him she was on her way. The elevator arrived quickly, and before she knew it she was on the ground floor headed out the ER doors heading for the parking structure.
Walter saw Sara emerge from the bank of elevators three cars ahead of him. He took a white cloth from the bag and poured a small amount of the Chloroform on it as he exited his vehicle. She was just standing near the elevator not moving toward her car. He moved quietly between two other vehicles and then across the lot and worked his way down to the car next to hers. He heard the screeching tires of a vehicle entering or exiting the structure and stayed low. Sara started to make her way across the lot toward her car; she was rustling around in her purse as if she was looking for her keys. She approached the driver’s side door, and he heard her doors unlock. He moved to the front edge of the adjacent car just as she was reaching for the door handle, and he stood up as her back was to him. Slowly, with the cloth at his side, he moved forward. Just as he motioned to grab her, a large black truck came around the corner of the structure and stopped behind her car. He dropped down quickly, waiting for the truck to pass, but instead it stopped. Quickly, he slinked a few cars back and saw Sara run over to the truck. Through the light of the garage, he recognized the driver.
Sara ran to John. There was an embrace and words spoken, but Walter was too far away to hear what was being said. She was nodding her head emphatically as she ran back toward her vehicle and started the engine. John got back in the truck, and the two sped off out of the structure. Walter moved quickly to his vehicle and sped after the two vehicles headed onto Roscoe Boulevard. They drove west until they were in Chatsworth and pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. Walter had been following at a distance and parked across the street, watching Sara and John. The shock of seeing John suddenly overtook Walter, and he lost track of what he was doing and hit the gas as opposed to the break. The car lurched into traffic causing several vehicles to screech to a halt. He saw John and Sara look over in his general direction and sped across the intersection and down Roscoe toward Valley Circle muttering to himself, “He didn’t see me. I’m sure of it. How does he know Sara?” Back at the restaurant, John was hugging Sara. He had been keenly aware of the black Mercedes tailing them. He saw the plate and burned the number into his memory.
Chapte
r Nineteen
“Hell, going home is going to
be boring. I might have to ride the
subway or do a ride-along with Bob
to keep the adrenaline rushing.”
Jim awoke at six thirty a.m. in the guest bedroom of Barbara’s house. He’d only gotten a few hours sleep since Barbara kept him up yelling at him. He knew her too well, and, when she was on a tirade, he just had to let her go. He got up and went into the bathroom, standing over the toilet as he waited for his prostate to cooperate. “Fuckin’ bitch getting old,” he snarled as the stream began a broken flow. He smiled as he looked around the bathroom and saw that Barbara had unpacked his toiletries and put them away in the order that he liked. He quietly opened the door to Barbara’s bedroom to see her sleeping peacefully on her side. He smiled again and went to make himself a cup of coffee.
Steve was awakened from a deep sleep by two hands grabbing him tight. It was the girls, and they were snuggled against him like frightened children. He was a sandwich again and dared not move; he knew they needed their sleep. Unfortunately, his colleagues at the Bureau didn’t care about that, and his phone started ringing. He moved from their grip and quietly answered, “Hoffman.” Gail’s husband, Bob, was on the other end of the line. “Hey Steve. How are the girls?” Walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen, Steve said, “They’re a bit shaken up, but they’re okay. How are you doing?” Steve asked, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “Well, to be honest, it took every ounce of self control I had not to jump a red eye when I got her call. Gail sounded fine, a little too fine if you ask me, and I know she’s flying back tomorrow night, so I stuck it out.” “Yea, Moll asked if she wanted to go home early, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wants to do a little more work on her tan.” They both laughed. “That’s my girl, Steve. Nothing gets her down. So what d’ya make of this Iron Eagle character?”
“You know, Bob, I’ve been working on his case along with an LA county sheriff’s detective who has become a close friend to me. The Eagle’s M.O., up until recently, has been to track down, capture, torture, and kill serial killers. But over the past several months, he’s broken his own pattern and has killed two innocents. One was a federal marshal and the other her private investigator grandfather, who was a retired marshal and a man who was like a father to me. The claim from The Eagle is that one was getting too close to identifying him, and the killing of her grandfather was, in my own opinion, a mercy killing. I knew both of these people very well.” “The papers say that he killed a gangbanger.” “Yea. In that case, The Eagle admitted that he got the perp through dumb luck; the guy tried to rob him after raping and killing one of my agents.” “Well, bad for the banger; good for you. The guys here in New York feel we need legislation that allows for killing of known gang members. We figure it should be a low level misdemeanor with a $5 fine.” There was laughter on the other end of the phone.
“Actually, it turned out good for the community. I learned that his DNA has been tied to seven other rapes and murders in the LA area.” “They’re killers alright, but I haven’t heard of any of them being serial killers.” “They’re not serial killers in the sense that we would describe a serial killer; however, when they get into cars and drive the streets preying on other gangs, it’s really the same idea.” “Yea…it’s the innocents that always get me.” “My late friend used to say that there are no innocents; lately I’m beginning to understand what he meant.” “Well, hey, I’m glad I got the chance to talk to you. I’ve got roll call, and my partner…she’s looking at me most disapprovingly. Make sure you send my wife home to me safe and sound.” Steve told him will do and hung up.
He had just finished off his juice when Molly came into the kitchen. She was still groggy from the medication, but she had her faculties. “Who were you talking to?” “It was Bob. He called to see how Gail’s doing.” She grabbed a glass and poured herself some juice and sat at the counter sipping it. “Is Gail still asleep?” She nodded. “I swear, Steve, that girl can sleep through anything.” “Do you recall anything new from last night?” “No…I have to say, for a brutal serial killer, he was very polite and quite apologetic for ‘disturbing our evening.’” “Well, he might be polite but don’t have any illusions about him. He’s a savage and merciless killer.” “I know. There was just something. I felt he really was sorry, almost sad, about what he was doing to us.” “Even though you and Gail were only with him for a short time, it is very common for captives to feel compassion for their captors. It’s basic psychology. He was using you as bait, so we wouldn’t stick around looking for him.” I suppose you’re right, but I’m not afraid of him anymore.” “You better get those thoughts out of your head right now, Moll. You need to be afraid of him and to respect that fear. He’s been in our home; he knows you, Gail, me, and this house. There is nothing that tells me that he won’t come back. I have assigned a detail to patrol and guard you for the next week.” “Gail will be gone tomorrow; why do I need round the clock protection?” “It’s just for a little while, Moll.” She poured more juice into her glass and took a drink. “If you ask me, it’s a waste of time and resources. I’m telling you, Steve, he won’t come back here again.” “How can you possibly know that?” “Call it women’s intuition.”
Gail came walking into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. “What’s up?” Molly poured her a glass of juice, and she sat down. “I heard your phone. Is everything okay?” “Yea…no problem. It was Bob calling to check on you.” “I love him so much. He’s such a sweetie.” “How are you doing?” Steve asked, and Molly looked over at her, wondering the same thing. “I’m fine…I got a great night’s sleep. You guys know how to throw a party, let me tell you. I’ve been in a threesome, drank myself silly, been getting a great tan out by your pool, oh…and I’ve been abducted by a brutal serial killer. Hell, going home is going to be boring. I might have to ride the subway or do a ride-along with Bob to keep the adrenaline rushing. Though his partner doesn’t like me very much.” She smiled, and the three laughed a little until Steve asked her why.
She talked as she slathered cream cheese onto a bagel. “A woman knows when another woman doesn’t like her. It’s no big deal. Bob and Carla have been partners going on five years. They spend a lot of time together, a lot more than he and I do.” Molly was starting a pot of coffee and asked Gail if she thought Bob was having an affair. Gail laughed as she was chewing, “Of course not. You can’t have an affair when you have been given permission to fuck your partner.” Both Molly and Steve stood paralyzed. Steve asked, “What?” Gail took another bite of the bagel and laughed, “I’m just kidding…” She looked over at Molly with a sad look in her eyes. Steve saw it, too. “How long have they been carrying on, Gail?” Molly asked quietly. “I’m not sure. I think at least a year, maybe two. She just had a baby last year. Bob has been spending more time ‘working,’ if you know what I mean. I don’t see that much of him. I don’t want to bring a lot of drama into my last day and a half with you two. This is old news. I want to have some fun. Since The Eagle won’t be coming back, so what are we going to do on my last day in town?” Molly said, “Lay out by the pool, listen to some music, drink, and relax. What about you?” Molly looked over at Steve as he put his glass in the sink and started for the stairs. “Me…I’m going to take a shower, get dressed, put on my gun and shield, and try and see what I can learn about this psycho.” “I thought you said he’s not a psychopath,” said Molly while he was still within earshot. “It’s a figure of speech, Moll. It’s just a figure of speech.”
John and Sara were sitting in a corner booth of the restaurant. They both ordered breakfast and were quietly sipping their coffee. Sara broke the awkward silence by asking what had brought him back down to the valley. The last they had spoken, John had just purchased a condo in Long Beach. His expression was somber. “I had a rough night and came to visit Amber.” Sara didn’t say anything; her eyes just welle
d up with tears. He looked over at her and saw it coming and reached out his hand and placed it on hers. “It’s okay, Sara; this is only the second time I’ve been back since the funeral. I was missing her a lot, and I’ve had a rough several weeks on the job. I just needed to be near my best friend.” She wept openly, and he moved over to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, and as he did the tears started to flow from him as well. She didn’t reciprocate the embrace. She left her hands folded in front of her on the table as John pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry, Sara. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you were like sisters.” He looked down at Sara, and for a fraction of a second he was holding Amber. The two looked so much alike. He remembered how frequently people mistook them for sisters; some even thought they were twins.
Sara disappeared into his huge arms and let her head rest against the side of his chest until they were both cried out. She reached for her napkin, and John loosened his grip on her. “You okay?” She nodded, so he moved back to his spot. The booth faced the entrance to the restaurant as well as the bathrooms and rear exit. She wiped her eyes as did John, and she smiled. “The consummate protector.” He looked confused. “You always face the entrance. You have the place covered. I remember Amber getting frustrated with you because she would want to sit in cozy corners away from everyone while you insisted on being close to the activity everywhere you went.” He laughed. “It’s my training, Sara. They drill it into you in the academy – always know your entrance and exits and be prepared at a moment’s notice for anything. It’s second nature for me. Have you been to the cemetery since the funeral?” Sara looked down at the placemat in front of her. “I have to confess, and I would only confess it to you, I go over there twice a month, every other Tuesday. I know this will sound strange, but on at least one of those days I bring a lunch with me and a mini-bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I eat my lunch and drink our favorite wine and talk to her.” He smiled. “Well, you were a great friend to her, Sara, and she loved you a lot. She looked up to you and emulated your commitment to medicine.”
Rise of The Iron Eagle (The Iron Eagle Series Book 1) Page 20