by Ciana Stone
The woman looked behind them and saw that they were running out of time. Fear gave her a surge of strength and she pushed her way through the people leaving the airport, hanging on to her daughter for dear life.
She could see the gate ahead when two men stepped out in front of them. Her daughter was looking behind them and didn’t see the man coming for her until it was too late to stop. The mother saw the man, and the gun he was pulling from beneath his jacket just as someone grabbed her from behind. Knowing that her only child’s life was at stake gave her the strength she needed. She tore free from the man who held her and tried to move between her child and the man who was after her. “Run!” she shouted.
“No, come on!” The girl kicked at another man who tried to grab her. “Mom! Come on!”
As if seeing everything suddenly switch into slow motion, the woman saw the man with the gun take aim. At the same time the man she had broken away from tried to take her arm again. Her daughter was shouting at her to hurry and holding out her hand and people were streaming around them, voices rising shrilly as the gun was noticed.
For a moment she didn’t know what to do. Then she didn’t bother to think about it. The man’s finger began to tighten on the trigger of the gun and her body reacted without her having to think. She launched herself at the man.
Screams erupted as the sound of the weapon’s fire rang out. The young girl’s eyes widened in shock and she froze in place for a split second. Then a look of horror appeared on her face and her voice added to the cacophony. She tried to catch her mother as she began to fall but a man grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back.
“Let me go!” she screamed, tearing at the man’s hands and thrashing around. “Mom!”
The mother looked up from where she had fallen and saw her daughter screaming and reaching for her but she could not seem to make her body obey her commands to get up off the floor. “Please, don’t hurt her,” she rasped as the man began to drag the girl away. “Please.” She managed to raise one hand before total blackness claimed her.
Chapter One
Present Day
Charlotte, North Carolina
”How’d it go?” Paige Landers asked as her partner got into the car.
“Fine,” Detective Ryan Dalton replied. “I’m just glad it’s over. It feels like I’ve been in court for a month. So, what’ve we got?”
“Homicide at the University Hilton,” she replied as she pulled out of the drive of the courthouse and merged into the line of traffic. “The housekeeper found the body when she went in to clean the room, around three. They were short-staffed so she didn’t get around to the room ‘til late.” She nodded to a pad on the dashboard as she made a right turn. “She notified the manager who called it in. We’ve got people on the scene.”
Ryan picked up the pad and read the scribbled handwriting. “Walter Van Dorne?” He looked up for a moment as she made another sharp turn. “What’s that say beside it?”
“He’s some scientist,” Paige filled in. “He was here to speak at the university as a guest lecturer. Got in a couple of days ago and was due to speak tonight. The university’s been notified that he won’t make it.”
Ryan nodded and returned to reading the rest of the notes. He started to ask Paige how the man died but changed his mind. She sometimes got a kick out of ribbing him about the way death turned his stomach. He didn’t feel like her brand of torment today.
Less than fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of the Hilton. An ambulance and several marked patrol cars were present as well as the medical examiner’s car. Flashing his badge to the uniformed officer at the door, Ryan was given directions to the crime scene.
He and Paige took the elevator up to the third floor. As soon as they got off they spotted the uniformed officers posted outside one of the rooms. “Dalton, Homicide,” Ryan said as he approached the room.
The officer nodded and stepped aside. Ryan walked over to where the medical examiner was kneeling beside the body. His breath caught in his throat at his first look at the body.
The man’s clothes and skin were shredded as if someone had taken a knife or some other sharp object and sliced him repeatedly down his arms, legs and torso. Blood drenched the clothing, turning the white shirt a deep red and the once light gray slacks into a dark crimson.
The most gruesome sight, however, was the man’s severed head which was arranged between the victim’s own hands on the center of his chest as if he were holding his head. Between the opened lips and teeth the stump of a finger protruded. It was not difficult to determine where the finger came from. The victim’s right index finger was missing.
Placed directly beneath the hands was a fragment of paper, bloodstained and bearing strange symbols. Aside from the bizarre manner in which the corpse was positioned on the bed, something else caught his attention. There didn’t seem to be any blood on the bedspread.
Ryan had never seen anything like it. Acid bile rose in his throat. The sight of violent death never failed to make him feel slightly nauseous but this one brought images of horror to his mind. He didn’t speak, but watched quietly as the medical examiner worked and the technicians dusted for prints and scoured the room for evidence.
After a few minutes, the ME stood.
“Hello,” Ryan addressed him. “Ryan Dalton, Homicide.”
“Ross Waring,” the ME introduced himself then gestured toward the fragment of paper on the victim’s body. “This isn’t my specialty but I can guarantee that this isn’t ordinary paper.”
Ryan looked at the paper. Sure enough it didn’t look like regular paper. In fact, it looked more like fabric. The fibers that comprised the paper were obvious. He studied the symbols inscribed on it then glanced at the ME. “Do these symbols make any sense to you?”
“Not my line,” Waring replied. “But if you look close you’ll see that the blood is hiding something. It looks like the scribbles cover something else. We’ll have the lab study it. One thing I can make an educated guess about is the type of writing instrument.”
Ryan’s eyebrows rose and Waring pointed to the severed head. “Victim’s right index finger.”
Ryan’s eyebrows rearranged into a tight frown. “Before or after death?”
“Can’t say for sure at this point.”
Ryan nodded and glanced around for Paige. She was busy scribbling notes and talking with the technicians. “Thanks,” Ryan said to Waring. “I’ll be in touch.” He crossed the room to Paige.
She was listening to the officer who was first on the scene go over his steps one by one. As she listened she scribbled furiously. Ryan knew better than to disturb her. Some people thought she was too much of a stickler for details. He knew that it was her methodical nature that made her such a good detective. He had heard from more than one member of the DA’s office that her thoroughness had saved more than a few cases.
Turning his attention back to his own duty, Ryan set about going over the scene, trying to freeze it in his mind. An hour later, he and Paige left.
“What do you think?” he asked as they got on the elevator.
“I don’t know.” She leaned back and looked up with a frown on her pretty face. “You get anything on who he’s seen or talked with?”
“The manager will have a list of all calls he made from his room waiting for us.” He let her exit ahead of him as the doors opened. “We can pick that up on the way out, then I think we should take a run over to the university and speak with the head of the physics department.”
“I hate physics,” Paige grumbled.
“You mean you don’t understand it,” he teased, knowing she hated to admit she wasn’t good at something.
She cut him a nasty look then checked the time on her wristwatch. “You think anyone’s going to be there now?”
Ryan shrugged and pulled out his cell phone. “One way to find out.”
Paige remained silent as he made the call. “So?” she asked when he finished.
&n
bsp; “Dr. Aldridge isn’t in but his secretary got in touch with him and he said he’d have someone meet us at his office at eight.”
“Then we might as well get something to eat,” Paige said over her shoulder as she knocked on the hotel manager’s office door. As promised, he had the list of calls made from the victim’s room. They questioned him about any visitors the victim might have had and whether he had seen anyone around during the time of the murder.
Once their questions were answered, they headed for the parking lot. Ryan scanned the list of phone numbers as Paige unlocked the car and got in behind the wheel.
“Where do you want to eat?” she asked as she started the car and pulled out.
“Doesn’t matter,” he answered absently. The note the ME had shown him was puzzling. Something about it nagged at him. He just didn’t know what.
Paige jerked the car to change lanes and prepared to turn.
“Guess I should call Senna.” Ryan pulled out his cell phone. “We had plans,” he explained at Paige’s arched eyebrows. “I don’t want her to wait for me.”
“So considerate,” she said in a sarcastic tone.
Ryan ignored her as he placed his call. “Hi, it’s Ryan. I’m sorry but I’ve got to cancel dinner. Something’s come up and it looks like I’m going to be working late. I’ll call you when I get home if it’s not too late. Sorry again. Bye.”
Paige pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and parked the car. “You know, Dalton, you’re starting to act like a married man.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more considerate. Aaron would probably appreciate you letting him know when you aren’t going to show up. Which reminds me. Didn’t you have plans to go to that dinner thing with him uptown? Maybe you should give him a call.”
“He’ll figure it out when I don’t show up,” she said and got out of the car. “Have you ever had the roast beef here?” she asked over the hood of the car.
Ryan made no comment on either her lack of manners or the food. He simply followed her inside, wondering why someone like Assistant District Attorney Aaron Vaughn would put up with someone as self-centered and inconsiderate as Paige Landers. But watching the reaction of the host who greeted them at the door provided the answer to that question. Paige was the kind of woman who could make you feel weak in the knees with one look.
At thirty-four, she was shapely and carried her one hundred and thirty pounds well on her five-foot-eight frame. She was one of those women who had legs that seemed to go on forever, and liked drawing attention to them in short, tight skirts.
When they first became partners Ryan wondered why she wore high-heels with her height and the type of work they did. Now he knew. Paige used her looks just like she used everything else at her disposal—as a tool, to her best advantage.
Moving his eyes away from her swaying hips, he felt a momentary pang of guilt. Even though there was nothing between him and Paige, he had wondered, more than once, what it would be like to have those long legs wrapped around him.
He knew she was interested. The way she looked at him left no question about that. But he was involved with Senna and really didn’t want to mess up what they had.
Paige slid into the booth and immediately lit a cigarette. Ryan took a seat across from her and picked up the menu.
“So…” She reached over and pushed the menu down, forcing him to look at her. She gave him the look. Despite his familiarity with her it still hit the mark. He felt his dick harden against his will and shifted uncomfortably.
“What’s up with you and Ms. Braintrust?” She gave him a catty smile.
“She has a name.” Ryan started to lift the menu again, but this time she pushed it down to the table and held it.
“Okay…” She exhaled smoke in his direction and smiled. “So, what’s the scoop? You two still going strong or has little Ryan had enough ice pussy?”
Ryan frowned at her choice of words. “Jesus, Paige!” It was easier to be upset with her than himself. Every time she talked dirty his dick went on alert.
“Well?” She smiled coyly at him.
“Everything’s fine, just fine. Now can we just drop the subject and concentrate on the case? What’s your gut reaction?”
Paige’s face rearranged into a thoughtful expression. A moment later she started relating her impressions. By the time she’d finished they had eaten and were ready to leave.
Ryan got into the passenger’s seat and called his home phone. He keyed in his pass code and listened to his messages.
“Did lover-girl call?” Paige teased as she got in and started the car.
Ryan frowned and ignored her. Sometimes Paige was a real pain in the ass.
University of North Carolina at Charlotte
Dr. Laserian checked her watch as she entered the building. She still had a few minutes before her meeting. Maybe enough time to grab a cup of coffee. She went to her office and was unlocking the door when a male voice came from behind her.
“Dr. Laserian?”
“Oh, hello, Mr…” She searched a moment for the young man’s name. “Harper. What can I do for you?”
“Call me Mike,” he said with a hopeful smile. “Well,” he continued when she made no response. “It’s about that trip you were talking about in class this morning. You know, the one to that lab in Illinois, during spring break?”
“Yes.” She slipped her keys into the pocket of her jacket, not bothering to open the door.
“Well, I was wondering if we could talk about it a little more.”
“I’m sure the literature I passed out in class gave all the details, Mr. Harper.”
“Oh, well, yeah, it did. But…well, I was kind of hoping we could…you know, talk about it.”
She checked her watched then gave him a polite but distant smile. “Perhaps we can discuss it further during the next class. Right now, I have an appointment.”
“Oh, well…maybe we could get together…you know, for a beer or something when you get finished.”
“I don’t think so. But thank you for the offer, Mr. Harper. I’ll see you in class. Goodnight.”
Before he could say another word she opened her office door and slipped inside. Senna smiled to herself as she crossed the room, taking off her jacket. This was her second semester teaching at the university and Mike Harper was not the first student who had tried to take his relationship with her beyond that of student-teacher.
Senna understood. She once had a major crush on a psychology professor in undergraduate school, and had used every excuse she could think of to talk to him or stop by his office.
Dismissing such matters, she picked up the phone on her desk and called her home number. There were three messages. One was from an old friend of her father’s who was in town for a few days, checking to make sure they were still going to dinner the next evening. The second was from her Aunt Minora and the last was from Ryan, saying he had to cancel their date.
It was not until she listened to his message that she realized she had forgotten all about their dinner date. Dr. Aldridge, the head of the physics department, had called just as she was about to leave her office and asked her to meet him in the evening.
Now her curiosity rose. She couldn’t imagine what Dr. Aldridge wanted to see her about. As crazy as it was, part of her hoped he was going to tell her that they would be letting her go after the current semester.
Senna had not planned on being a teacher. Until the previous spring she had been working at the Fermi National Acceleratory Laboratory in Batavia, Illinois, where the highest energy accelerators in the world, the Teyatron, were housed, along with the world’s largest production and storage facility of antiprotons.
She had taken the job with Fermilab right after receiving her doctorate in physics. She had worked there a little over three years. During that time she went back to college to study archaeology, her father’s passion.
She would never have moved to Charlotte and taken a t
eaching position if it hadn’t been for Minora. Minora had been like a mother to Senna since she was eighteen. In fact, Minora was all the family she had left.
When Minora was injured in an automobile accident and paralyzed from the waist down, the doctors were unsure if she would ever regain the use of her legs. Senna felt she had to come to Charlotte to be close to her and support her through the long rehabilitation process.
She could not say that she regretted the decision. Even though she hadn’t planned on teaching, she wasn’t really unhappy with it. She had made new friends and had no major complaints about her life. At least no new ones, she thought, and then reminded herself that in the greater scheme of things, she had a pretty good life.
Her phone rang and she snapped to attention. “Dr. Laserian,” she said as she answered. Her eyebrows drew together slightly then relaxed. “Thank you,” she said and hung up the phone. She grabbed her keys and left the office, making sure it was locked before she headed down the hall to Dr. Aldridge’s office.
The door was open so she didn’t knock. His secretary’s office was empty but there was a light on in his private office. She walked to the door and tapped lightly.
“Come in.”
He was sitting at his desk with a pile of papers in front of him. He stood as he gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Please have a seat.”
“Thank you.” She sat and waited as he came around the desk to take the seat next to her.
“Scuttlebutt has it that thanks to you, enrollment in our department is up substantially.” His smile was warm and sincere.
“I don’t think I can take credit for that, sir.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. It’s amazing what an attractive woman can do without even realizing it. But that’s not why I wanted to see you. I understand you are acquainted with Dr. Van Dorne?”
“Walter? Yes, he was a close friend of my parents before they died. After their deaths he became almost a part of my family. He was one of my mentors.”
“I see.” He looked away for a moment. “I don’t quite know how to say this, but Dr. Van Dorne has apparently been murdered.”