Little Bird (Anna Series Book 2)

by Lee Alan

  “Protect my son, Holy Father.” The words came from Claire. Anna turned to see her friend beside her, gazing at the same spot with a lost expression on her face while fingering the small, silver cross at her neck.

  “Are you okay, hon?” Anna asked, laying a worried hand upon her shoulder.

  Claire faced her, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

  “Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I’m about to freak, myself,” she said, managing a wan smile to hide her concern. “You just stick with me and we’ll get through this together. What do ya say?”

  Claire gave half a nod and then turned back to staring at the old fortress of death. Her dark hair blew in the breeze, as a gull cried its lonely call high above them.

  They continued for another twenty minutes before their ultimate destination became clear. On the south bank, what looked like another palace slid into view. Identical colonnaded wings formed the two halves of the imposing building, and each twin section had an exquisite clock tower surmounting it. The theme was of perfect symmetry on a grand scale. This elegant place was the polar opposite of the grim Tower of London. Unlike its older cousin, the aim seemed to be to elevate beauty and elegance above the projection of power. A white stone path led from the water side, through the grounds, and toward the stunning main building.

  Yet another group of guests had gathered on the vast green lawn before the magnificent edifice. Again, all wore the same wonderful period dress as the barge party. A picnic fit for a king had been laid out on white–clothed tables, and serving staff frequented the milling crowd, offering drinks and other treats on silver trays. Anna’s stomach gave a small protest at the sight of the piled platters—she hadn’t eaten since the previous evening.

  Music drifted toward her from under a huge marquee sporting the same kissing dove motif she’d seen on the carriage. Of course, Corey had commissioned a full orchestra to greet his bride to–be. Perfect, she thought, smiling at the prospect of seeing him shortly—although she wasn’t quite certain if she would marry him or slap him, for the nerve–shredding experience she’d been through.

  The wedding barge slid to a smooth halt opposite the land celebrations. The attention of the guests turned her way, once again, and more clapping followed, interspersed with the odd cheer. Anna stepped onto the solid stone of the quay side with hidden relief and gave a little wave to the throng surrounding her. Two little girls wearing pink frocks hurried over to scatter rose petals before her as she strolled amongst her admirers. Some wore high, white wigs, while others wafted themselves with antique bone hand fans. The orchestra continued to produce soft tunes she didn’t recognize, yet which fit her emotion with perfection. The overall effect gave her the oddest, most profound sensation, like passing through a painting. With every step she took, it seemed she revived the former glories of this incredible place. The feeling was unique, and if Corey’s aim had been to give her something special, then he’d succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.

  The same footman who’d spoken to her on the barge appeared by her side a moment later, drawing her back into reality. “Welcome to Greenwich. If madam approves, would you care to mingle with the guests? We are a little early for the ceremony.”

  “Certainly, but may I ask,” she began, before fighting off a wave of flowery language, “where’s Corey?”

  “Inside, madam. Don’t worry—he’ll be ready when you are.”

  Anna nodded, and then with a sudden idea, looked around for Claire. “Claire!” she called, spotting her pale–looking bridesmaid stepping off The Royal Swan. Claire paced to Anna’s side, seeming to ignore the happy scenes around her.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Anna asked again.

  “Fine.” The accompanying smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Listen, can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can you find Corey and tell him we’re here?” Anna paused. “And that I thought it was wonderful.” There was a long pause, so she filled the gap. “He can get so anxious, and I don’t want him getting stressed out before the ceremony.” She secretly hoped the task would provide her clearly flagging friend with something practical to focus on.

  “What about Hermon?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  “Do you promise? No matter what?”

  “Of course—goes without saying,” she replied, unsure of why her friend labored such an obvious point.

  The reassurance appeared to work, because Claire responded by kissing her on the cheek before bending down to Hermon. She whispered something into his ear and then hugged him fiercely. He seemed reluctant to let his mother go, but after a long second, Claire gently pushed him away before hurrying off toward the main building as fast as her ponderous dress would allow. Anna felt a rush of relief upon seeing her rise to the occasion.

  Chapter 14

  Lieutenant Raymond burst through the swinging doors of the palliative care department with a uniformed officer by his side. Two doctors in the middle of discussing a patient’s chart turned to face the determined duo as they strode straight toward them.

  Raymond frowned at the familiar scent of illness and feces that always seemed to pervade hospitals. It gave an unwelcome reminder of his own all too recent treatment. This ward, in particular, brought feelings of dread into his usually well–ordered mind; people came here with a one–way ticket.

  The two youthful clinicians stared at him with curiosity. They looked barely old enough to drive, let alone save lives. “I confess, officer,” said one of the unshaven young men with a tarnished stethoscope hanging around his neck. “This place is stuffed with drugs.”

  His companion chuckled, although he eyed the grim–faced arrivals warily. The Lieutenant put on his best “I’m not here to dick around” expression.

  “Raymond, Homicide Unit. We’re looking for a person of interest,” he said while displaying his badge.

  “Really?” asked the same doc before sharing a puzzled glance with his colleague. “Sorry to disappoint, Lieutenant, but most of our patients don’t even know what year it is—and that’s if they’re conscious at all.”

  “Not a patient, a visitor. We need to see her now,” he emphasized the last word.

  “Who?”

  Raymond showed them the photo provided by the cleaning company. “Mrs. Macintosh?” The doctor asked after glancing at the head shot of the middle–aged woman. His look of confusion turned to shock.

  “Is she here?”

  “Well, yes, but are you sure? That lady has more than enough problems to deal with.”

  Raymond eyed the unkempt doc with an expression conveying what he thought of the question. The kid held up his hands and then indicated for the officers to follow him. He led them down one of the long, white–washed corridors, further into the ward.

  Raymond gave a silent thanks to the gods of luck for allowing him to identify a suspect so soon after reading the prison lab report. The strict vetting processes put in place by Corey Young’s own security team had aided the process; few people were allowed access to the reclusive couple, so it’d been a simple matter to find out who’d recently started working at the Estate.

  On the surface, Katlin Macintosh passed muster with flying colors. She had no previous record, no known affiliation to political groups, and was a long–term employee of a reputable company. His interest in the woman had sparked, however, when a call to her manager uncovered the fact that she’d sought business with Anna Price, herself. The action wouldn’t have normally been unusual, except that the firm had its own sales team. Not only this, but she also shared a similar first name to the mysterious Kate in the secret messages sent to Eckerman.

  “Wait a minute,” the doctor paused mid–stride. “Aren’t you supposed to have a warrant or something?”

  “We just want to talk to her.”

  The kid seemed to ponder this before nodding and continuing to escort them.

  Kids are far too accepti
ng of authority, these days, Raymond thought, aware of how many procedural rules he’d just ignored. He also sensed that this matter was too pressing to respect the finer points of protocol. The last chilling instruction sent from the strangler to his sick fan rang through his head: ”You must do this before they wed.”

  The doctor led them through three identical wards before they stopped beside a small cubicle after spending several depressing minutes passing the last vestiges of life. The Lieutenant recognized Katlin inside, standing over the prone form of an unconscious younger male. She washed his pale face gently while humming a soothing tune. His only response to her soft crooning came from the mechanical whirring of the respirator inflating his lungs.

  She turned to face them at the sound of their approach, her features looking older and far more worn than those from her work ID. Upon seeing who interrupted her lonely vigil, her expression registered pure panic. She dropped the cloth into the small bowl and swooned. Reacting quickly, the doctor rushed to support her before she fell. This woman clearly didn’t welcome a visit from the police.

  “Damn it!” the doc muttered as he caught her. “It’s okay, Katlin. They only want to ask a few questions. Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?” he added, giving the agents of the law a dark glance.

  “That’s right.” Even while he mouthed reassurance, however, Raymond knew something was amiss. He didn’t see any calculation in her fearful expression; this vision of a troubled caretaker didn’t tally with the crazed fanatic he hunted.

  The beat officer helped the physician to escort the trembling woman to a nearby rest area. Raymond followed, his mind grasping at possibilities. While the two other men sat her in one of the plastic seats lining the empty room, he strode over to the water cooler against the back wall and poured her a cup. She took it as if he were offering poison, and again, her look of worried guilt didn’t add up.

  “You know why we are here, don’t you?” he asked, deciding it was best to give it to her straight. This cookie would crumble without effort, which bothered him more than it gave comfort. Katlin took a deep sip of the water, blinking at him through a gaze brimming with tears. “This is serious, Mrs. Macintosh,” he said, certain Katlin would break. She looked at the other men gathered around her, as if searching for understanding.

  “I did it for him,” she said finally in a quivering voice after the others offered no objection.

  “I know,” Raymond replied, trying to reel her in gently. Maybe it is her, after all, he thought with a small measure of hope. “Do you love him?” he added, wanting to bring out the relationship between her and Eckerman.

  She gave him a look of both confusion and anger. “Of course, I love him: he’s my son.”

  His sense of unease grew. “Your son?” He’d read up on Eckerman before the trial and recalled learning that the killer’s mother had died years ago.

  Her tone became defiant, “Tell me, Lieutenant, what would you do to save your son’s life?”

  “Why do you think we’re here?” he asked bluntly, sensing that he didn’t have much time to unravel this mess. The question hung between them while an internal struggle played across the woman’s face. “He asked me to find out anything I could about Corey and Anna,” she said. Her shoulders slumped in resignation.

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Are they on drugs? Is one of them having an affair? Bad stuff. You must know that already, though, or you wouldn’t be here, right?” Katlin took another sip of water. She looked calmer, now, like a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

  The Lieutenant pieced this together in his mind, but it made no sense. Why would a psycho like Eckerman want to blackmail his ex–partner? The answer was simple: he wouldn’t. The realization hit Raymond like a fist.

  “Katlin, this is important. Have you ever spoken with or written to Tony Eckerman?”

  There was more confusion, along with undisguised revulsion, this time. “That filthy animal? No!” she said, her eyes searching the Lieutenant’s face for answers. All his twenty years on the force told him she was telling the truth.

  “You said you did it for him, though.”

  “I meant for John, my son,” she said, pointing an impassioned finger toward the unconscious man in the nearby bed. “He needs a liver transplant, but there’ve been no donors.” She stared at the floor in total despair. “The doctors talk about new drugs to buy him more time, but my insurance…”

  Raymond blinked, understanding finally descending upon him. “Let me get this straight: you were paid to spy on the couple. That’s all?”

  “What do you mean ‘is that all?’ Isn’t it bad enough for you people?” He could see anger flare in her once more. “I’ve betrayed them, lost my job, and John…” she sobbed the final word. The grizzled Lieutenant exchanged a look with the uniformed officer as his mind raced ahead of the conversation. “She’s not the one,” he declared.

  “What do you mean?” Katlin asked, her face a mixture of relief and worry.

  The Lieutenant pressed a hand to his temple, trying to process the possibilities. First, he had to remove Eckerman from the picture. “Did you have any contact with the person who asked you to watch Corey and Anna?” Katlin gazed at him. Demons played out on her exhausted face. She’s weighing the risks of telling me. “Katlin, I don’t think you understand how serious this is. I’m a homicide detective.”

  Her hands flung to her mouth in shock. “Has someone been killed?” she asked.

  “No, but I think Anna Price is in danger, and I need your help to stop the threat. That’s why I need to find out who asked you to spy on them.”

  She nodded with wide eyes. “Yes. Yes, of course. It was my lawyer,” she said.

  “Your lawyer?”

  “Bill Moyer, the bastard.”

  The name rang a bell with him. “The guy from TV? The cowboy?”

  She nodded again as she took a tissue from her white cardigan sleeve and blew her nose. “I’d taken him on to build a claim against the insurance company to get money for John,” she said, dabbing her eyes. “I heard nothing from the useless, fat pig for months, until one day he called me and said the claim wasn’t going well.”

  “So he made you an offer?” the Lieutenant pressed.

  She nodded again. “He said one of his clients had serious legal issues with some rich celebrity couple, and then he promised me ten grand if I kept an eye on them. That’s all he asked, at first.”

  “But he wanted more?”

  “Yes. When I started telling him what they did and where they went, he got angry. He started pushing for dirt.” She shook her head with clear regret. “Please believe me: I would never have done such a thing if I’d known what good people they are.” Her face screwed up with suppressed rage. “The snake never paid me a friggin’ penny. I swear it on John’s life.”

  Raymond knew it was time to put this poor woman out of her misery. The thought that he’d willed this kind, abused woman to be an accomplice to a creature like Eckerman left a bitter taste in his mouth. Options drifted through his head and the next step became obvious: he needed to warn the couple’s security team. He cursed himself for not doing so, already.

  “Where are Anna and Corey now?”

  “Getting married,” she replied, “in London.”

  “London, England?”

  “Yes. Look.” Katlin removed a small phone from underneath her plastic hospital apron and passed it to the detective. “See?”

  The picture was of a smiling Anna, wearing an astounding wedding dress. She’d put on a healthy amount of weight since their last meeting. The happy bride had been joined by a pretty, dark–haired bridesmaid with grey eyes and a young page boy.

  Raymond sighed with relief. While out of the US, she would be safe from whichever loon Eckerman had brainwashed. He almost handed the phone back when he suddenly felt the need to look again. He stared at the woman beside Anna. “Who’s that?” he asked the red–eyed Katlin, pointing at Anna’s bridesm
aid.

  “Oh, that’s Claire, Anna’s new friend. The little boy is Hermon, her son.” Katlin smiled for the first time since they’d met. “He’s such a cutie pie—just like my Johnny, at his age.”

  The Detective stared into Claire’s disconcerting gaze. There was something deep in her eyes—something sad. Something familiar. “How long have they known each other?” His heart started to beat faster.

  “Not long, I think. I’ve maybe only seen her a couple of times at the Estate over the past month, but heck, it’s not like I’m part of the furniture, myself.”

  Raymond ignored the reply as something stabbed for his attention from his memory. It was something he’d seen in the newspapers. His hand strayed to his temple. He knew her face.

  “When did Anna send you the picture?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  He barely registered the answer, because he’d worked out who stared back at him. “Sweet Jesus,” he murmured, already starting to dial numbers on the cell phone.

  Chapter 15

  Corey sat before the mirror having a full–blown panic attack. He’d wimped out and hid himself in a changing room, rather than face the hundreds of guests waiting to witness the biggest day of his life.

  The fact that his every exaggerated emotion played out on the mirror didn’t help matters in the slightest. He groaned on further inspection of his red, puffing cheeks and wide, blinking eyes. Such was his state of meltdown that he’d sent a concerned–looking steward to retrieve a paper bag to give him something to blow into. That’d been twenty minutes ago.

  To top it all off, the one person who could make him feel better was currently being landed on the river bank like a fish, and in all probability, in the foulest of moods, due to the ridiculous surprise he’d foisted upon her. “What was I thinking?” he said aloud for the third time, not believing his own stupidity. “She’ll never forgive me.”