by Debra Webb
Based on the few questions Lacon had asked her since placing their breakfast order, Frasier was completely unaware of her ex’s dangerous and likely illegal activities. He’d kept the conversation fairly light in hopes she would eat. After the shock she’d suffered, she needed protein.
When she’d finally gotten down a few bites of her food and started on her second cup of coffee, Lacon decided to give her the bad news. “I did some research on Bauer.”
She looked at him, her face reflecting her confusion. She had the greenest eyes. Friendly green eyes, like Eva’s. And then there was that fiery red hair. He wondered if the lady had the temper to go with those wild red locks.
“You did?” She shook her head. “I’m so out of it, I didn’t realize you were already looking into my situation.”
“I started last night, right after I spoke to Eva.”
“Oh.” She looked slightly less confused now, and even a bit hopeful. “I forgot Eva called you last night.” She placed her fork on the table. “I wasn’t actually sure who she called. Only that it was someone from the Colby Agency.”
“We would have had this discussion this morning in my boss’s office except...”
She nodded. “Yeah. Except...”
“Anyway,” he went on, “I discovered a number of things you probably aren’t aware of. You might want to brace yourself.”
The flicker of hope that had flashed in her eyes faded. “Was William in trouble?”
“Considering what happened in your bedroom, I’d say most definitely.”
“What was he involved in?” She moved her hands to her lap, but not before he saw them tremble.
Now for the bad news. “He was practicing medicine as a sort of concierge doctor.”
Marissa sat, obviously stunned, for a moment. “But he was only released from jail about six months ago.” She shook her head. “He had patients? The state board suspended his license for unprofessional conduct. I don’t understand. Had the board reviewed his case recently?”
“I don’t have all the details, but I can tell you his patient list is better suited for the wanted posters on a post office wall than the files in a doctor’s office.”
She sat back. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying he was treating criminals?”
Lacon nodded. “As in, he gets a call when a drug lord or mob boss needs a bullet removed from one of his favorite henchmen.”
“Oh my God.” She closed her eyes in a futile effort to block the reality of what his words meant.
“My source was able to name a couple of top-of-the-food-chain thugs he’s done work for. They were paying him big bucks for the work and for his silence.”
She allowed this news to sink in before asking, “So whoever came into my home last night and killed William may have been hired by an actual drug lord or mob boss?”
“That would be my guess.”
All those soft curls swished as she shook her head. “Then why not kill me, too? What if I had suddenly awakened in the middle of what they were doing? Or if my neighbor heard the gunshot?”
“From what you described and what Officer Tolliver told me, this was a professional hit. Bauer stepped on someone’s toes, and they showed him who was boss. Why they chose your place to carry this out, no clue just yet. If the shooter used your gun, my guess is the police will find a pillow or something along those lines that was used to muffle the sound.”
Her face clouded with worry. “I hadn’t thought of that. Still, I’m not a heavy sleeper. I can’t believe I slept through someone coming into my home and killing my husband right next to me.”
Lacon was having trouble with that one, as well. “While I waited for you to come back downstairs, I noticed there was a half-empty bottle of wine on the counter in your kitchen. Did you have wine last night?”
“Yes. I had one glass. I told the detective as much.”
“Anything unusual about how you felt after you drank the wine or when you woke up? Groggy? Headache?”
“I remember I felt really tired last night, but that’s not unusual. I work long, hectic hours at the ER. So I went straight to bed after the wine. This morning, I did feel a little sluggish, had a mild headache, but I assumed it was about finding William dead next to me. I told this to the detective, too.”
“They’re probably drawing the same picture I am, Dr. Frasier. Most likely they’ll have the wine tested for drugs. It might be best if you had a blood test to see if there’s anything we need to know about.”
“We can stop by the Edge.”
“From there we’ll go to the safe house and get you settled. We can start going over what we know and what we don’t from there. We’ve already got people gathering more accurate and detailed information about your ex-husband’s activities since his release. It won’t take us long to figure this out.”
“Safe house?”
“The police won’t release your home for a day or two, and it’s best that we keep you out of reach of whatever trouble Bauer found himself in until we determine the source and any potential threat to you. You don’t need to worry. We’ve got you covered.”
The first hint of a smile tilted her lips. “Thank you.”
Colby Safe House, 1:30 p.m.
WHEN MARISSA HEARD the words safe house, she hadn’t expected a fortress. The house sat in the woods on the edge of Lake Michigan, a good forty-five minutes from downtown Chicago. A towering brick wall surrounded the property on all sides save the one facing the lake. Enormous iron gates had opened for their entrance onto the property and immediately closed behind them. If not for the large windows, the house would have looked more like a stone prison than a mere house. Lush flowers and shrubs bordered the stone facade, softening it a bit.
Traynor parked his car in front of the house. He gazed up at it. “State-of-the-art security system operated by keypad or voice control. Steel shutters can be closed over all the windows and doors. No one can touch you here.”
For some reason, she didn’t feel the slightest bit better about this nightmare. Part of her held on to the fleeting possibility that any moment she would wake up and discover that the whole morning had been a dream. Things like this didn’t happen to regular, everyday people. She felt as if she’d been shoved onto the set of a thriller movie. Any minute now the director would give the order to run.
Traynor climbed out of the car and rounded the hood to her side. She emerged to join him. She shook off the troubling thoughts and focused on the reality staring her in the face right this second. She was standing in front of a safe house. A place where she would stay until William’s murder was all sorted out.
“It’s beautiful, in a sort of austere way,” she said, mostly to make conversation.
“You’ll feel more comfortable inside.”
At the door, he pressed his palm onto a keypad and the door locks released. He pushed the door open and waited for her to step inside before him. The walls were a warm beige with lovely gloss white trim. Rich furnishings and draperies added a very elegant touch. All those large windows allowed sun to pour in between the slats of the shutters. Unlike the exterior, inside it actually felt warm and inviting.
“You’re right. It’s a very lovely house.”
“Take whatever room you’d like upstairs, and then join me for coffee in the kitchen.”
She took her bag from him and headed for the grand staircase. Upstairs, she wandered into the first room with a view of the rear gardens and the lake. The rock paths and dense greenery made the stone patio and gorgeous pool with its rushing waterfall look as if they had always been there—as if they were part of the natural landscape. She sighed. Too bad this wasn’t some exotic resort where she’d spend the next few days soaking up the sun. She hadn’t taken a vacation in years.
But this was no vacation.
Feeling more exhausted than she had since me
dical school, she tossed her bag onto a chair and opened it. One by one she hung her jeans and T-shirts in the largest closet she’d ever seen. Maybe hanging them would help with the wrinkles from being stuffed into her bag. She carried her toiletries to the massive en suite. A luxurious marble tub, a shower for at least four and two sinks designed in colorful glass that crowned the endless vanity. The window over the tub looked out over the lake, as well. The view put the bathroom over the top.
“A grand hideaway,” she mumbled.
She leaned against the counter and stared at her reflection. Her pale skin looked even paler. The dark circles under her eyes spoke loudly of the morning’s horrors. The stop they’d made at the Edge had taken longer than she’d anticipated. Eva insisted on knowing exactly what happened. She drew the necessary blood samples and ensured them the analysis would be handled stat.
Eva had promised to explain everything to Dr. Pierce. As much as she adored Eva, Marissa really hadn’t wanted to talk about it anymore to anyone except those involved directly in the investigation. Her body and soul felt tender, and she needed time to think and process all that had happened. But sweet Eva had coaxed the story out of her. In the end, Marissa supposed it was better if her dearest friend, as well as Dr. Pierce, understood the precarious situation.
She supposed precarious was the best way to describe her current dilemma. Part of her wanted to call her brother, but he would only insist on coming home, and that wouldn’t be fair. He was doing important work. She doubted this was going away anytime soon. There was always time to call her brother later if the situation deteriorated.
Pushing away from the vanity, she trudged back into the bedroom. She made it as far as the bed before she collapsed. Traynor was waiting for her downstairs, but she couldn’t seem to make her body obey the command to get up and move.
Tears rushed over her lashes and down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry. It was too late for tears, but she couldn’t stop them. Giving up the fight, she dropped her face into her hands and let them come. Her shoulders shook with the sobs that tore at her heart. No matter that she and William had been over for years—she had loved him so deeply before everything fell apart. She had expected to spend the rest of her life with him...to have children with him. Eventually. Though she couldn’t say that she still loved him, she cared about him and wanted the best for him.
Now he was dead.
He’d threatened to kill himself and her mere hours before his death, and somehow that made the tragedy all the sadder. Had he really wished her dead? She’d tried so hard to help him before his abuse turned physical. She had already stayed in the marriage too long. Why was it women so often stayed, somehow believing they could salvage what remained of their marriage?
Foolish. Simply foolish.
A soft knock on the door drew her attention there. Traynor stood in the doorway, his tall frame and broad shoulders filling the space. She swiped at her eyes and attempted to pull herself together. “You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop crying.”
Most men usually found an immediate excuse to disappear when a woman cried. To her surprise, Lacon Traynor crossed the room, grabbed the box of tissues on the bedside table and sat down on the bed next to her.
“You needed to cry,” he said gently as he offered her a couple of tissues. “It doesn’t help to keep all the emotions bottled up inside. This has been a seriously bad day for you. If anyone I’ve ever met needed a good cry, it’s you.”
She dabbed at her eyes and nose. “I keep asking myself how it happened without me waking up. No matter how I examine it, it doesn’t make sense.”
“We’ll have a better handle on things when the lab results are in. For now, just know that none of it was your fault. You’re a victim in this.”
Marissa stared at the soggy tissue in her hand and asked the question that had been pounding in her brain since Traynor told her what he’d discovered about William. “Why do you think they didn’t kill me?” She shrugged. “I mean, I can see how, if William was lurking around my house and they followed him there, it was a coincidence of sorts. But it feels like more than just a coincidence.”
“The body was staged,” Traynor said. “Since there was no sign of a struggle in your home, I believe they drugged Bauer and put him in position, then shot him.”
Marissa shuddered. She’d seen enough gunshot wounds involving .22s to know that when dealing with a caliber that small, all kinds of things could go awry. The bullet could have glanced off his skull, traveled around beneath the skin and come out someplace else. The damned thing could have ended up hitting her. After all, William had been lying on the bed facing her.
But that wasn’t what happened. The coroner’s report would tell the detailed story, but shoving the muzzle against the back of his neck just below the base of the skull in that particular spot pretty much guaranteed the brain stem would be damaged. The likelihood of death was extremely high. Since there had been no exit wound, the bullet no doubt penetrated the skull and bounced around in the brain, doing all manner of additional damage. Even if by some twist of fate William had lived, he would in all probability have suffered significant physical and cognitive damage.
She pushed away the thoughts. If he’d been drugged, perhaps he hadn’t suffered. She hoped he hadn’t suffered. As horribly as he’d treated her in recent years, he hadn’t deserved to be murdered.
“Were they trying to send me a message for some reason?” Marissa couldn’t see the thought process behind such a move. She had nothing to do with William’s work or any debts he might owe to angry loan sharks. Frankly, she hardly knew the man who had once been her husband anymore.
Traynor didn’t answer for a second that turned into five. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She stared directly at his face, silently demanding that he meet her gaze. “You believe the person or persons who did this wanted me to know they could come into my home and commit murder right in my most intimate space. They left me alive for some reason, didn’t they?”
“That’s one of the theories, yes. Are you certain you’re not aware of any activities Bauer was involved in? Could he have given you something to keep for him? Something they might want?”
“No. After I landed in the hospital from the beating he gave me, I cut all ties with him. The only times I’ve seen him since his trial are when he has shown up unexpectedly on the street outside my house or in the parking lot at the market where I shop. He’s called and left messages, but I never answer them. Eventually I changed my number. I never allowed him into my new house. When he came to the ER yesterday, that was the first time he’d come to my work.”
“If they believe you have something that belongs to them or something they want,” Traynor offered, “we’ll know soon enough.”
She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I think I need a walk.”
“Come on.” He stood. “I’ll show you around the property.”
Downstairs, he took her on a tour of the kitchen, which was huge and filled with gleaming cabinetry and sleek countertops. The appliances were commercial, restaurant-style pieces of art with enough bells and whistles to make any chef happy. A dream kitchen by anyone’s standards. Traynor’s next stop was the gym. The array of equipment would satisfy the most hardcore workout enthusiast. Marissa would spend some time here for sure. Next to the gym was the garage that housed six luxury vehicles; some were even bulletproof. She had to admit, she was impressed.
Back through the kitchen and the dining room was a den at the back of the house. A floor-to-ceiling fireplace sat against one wall; big comfy furniture filled the center of the room, and a sizable television was tucked into a discreet nook. But the part that stole Marissa’s attention was the wall of French doors and windows that zoomed all the way to the vaulted ceiling to allow as much of the lake view into the room as possible. She could live in this one room.
Outside, the breeze coming off the water chased away the afternoon heat. They followed the stone path, and Traynor pointed out the boat dock and the helipad. The safe house was prepared with a number of escape routes, as well as a safe room that could withstand just about any sort of attack.
“When did you join the Colby Agency?” She leaned against the steel railing that topped the seawall at the back of the property. The air was crisp and fresh, and she felt herself starting to relax.
“Six years ago.” He propped his arms on the railing and stared out at the water. “Before that I was a bounty hunter.”
Marissa smiled. No surprise there. She’d had him pegged as a rugged law enforcement type. “Where did you grow up?”
“Floresville, Texas,” he announced proudly. “Half an hour south of San Antonio. The family ranch is there. I have two brothers and a sister who run the family business, one of the biggest cattle operations in the state. My dad’s retired now, but he still gives his input.”
She gazed out over the water for a moment before searching his face. “You didn’t want to stay with the family business?”
He smiled, and the expression startled her. Lacon Traynor was an attractive man, but when he smiled it was a genuinely beautiful sight. She liked his smile. His eyes, too. He had those light brown, almost golden eyes. The blond hair and gold eyes were a vivid contrast to his tanned skin.
Her detailed analysis of his physical assets puzzled her. It didn’t seem appropriate to admire the man’s attributes after what had happened. Honestly, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d paid attention to whether a man was attractive or not, much less noticed his smile or his eyes. Something inside her had shut off all those feelings after William threw her up against the wall a few times and then tossed her down the stairs. It really was a miracle she’d survived without truly devastating injuries.