Dead Love

by Linda Wells

  .

  DEAD LOVE

  by

  Linda Wells

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, institutions, businesses, locales, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All characters appearing in this work are entirely the work of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2013 Linda Wells

  All rights reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission of the author.

  ISBN-10: 1480262072

  ISBN-13: 9781480262072

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-63001-323-3

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012921178

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

  North Charleston, South Carolina

  .

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  .

  1

  Maggie Ryan was running late. Her alarm hadn’t gone off, so she had rushed through the shower, leaving Mike in bed to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. He would have to deal with getting the boys to school. He worked at home, and his schedule was flexible. Since Pembrooke Academy was only a few blocks away, he could walk them to school. He enjoyed grabbing a cappuccino and bagel at the local coffee shop on his way home.

  After her shower, Maggie dressed in beige string bikini panties, matching lacey bra, sheer stockings, and a straight “just above the knee” taupe skirt, crisp white tailored blouse, and a classic fitted navy blazer with gold buttons. She slipped on her taupe heels and then stood in front of the full-length mirror to see if the gold wings on her left lapel were straight. After brushing her long blonde hair, Maggie pulled it back in a sleek ponytail, fastened with a tortoise shell clasp. The look was chic and professional. She applied light powder, smoky brown eye shadow and liner, mascara, blush, and a neutral pink lipstick. She was a natural beauty with full lips and light blue eyes, the makeup adding the finishing touch. Maggie was a flight attendant for Century Air, a “senior stew,” with ten years of service. She was flying a turnaround to Miami out of LaGuardia three days a week. The days were long, ten hours plus, but the work was exciting. In spite of the inevitable flight delays and the occasional irritable passenger, the job was fun and each day was different. In addition, she liked the perks. She and Mike loved to travel, and the job offered them that opportunity.

  Maggie gulped down the last of her coffee, took the cup into the kitchen, and slipped into the bedroom to say good-bye to Mike. She leaned over the bed where he was deep in sleep, whispering, “Wake up, Mike. It’s time to get the boys ready for school.”

  He yawned and said, “Good morning, lover,” in his sleepy, sexy voice.

  He put his arms around her hips and tried to pull her into bed with him. He was boyishly handsome, with long sandy brown hair, which fell over his forehead, blue eyes, and subtly rugged features. His rough beard was so masculine, and she loved feeling his face against hers when they kissed. His arms were still around her as her lips brushed his, and he responded, touching her leg, sliding his hand up her skirt, touching her silky panties.

  She reluctantly pulled away from him, saying, “Later, sweetheart. I love you, but I have to go,” while softly brushing his hair off his forehead with her fingertips.

  Maggie rushed out of the bedroom. She would have loved to crawl into bed with him, memories of their passionate, earthy lovemaking from the night before still fresh in her mind, but she had to get to the airport. Thoughts of his body inside her made her ache for him, but she knew they would be together tonight. She couldn’t wait to feel his arms around her as he held her close to him, naked, his body blended perfectly into hers. Their desire for each other was as intense as the day they met.

  Though it was long commute to LaGuardia, they loved their West Side co-op. It was near the boys’ school, Central Park, many great restaurants, shops, and historic sights. There was so much for them to enjoy by living in the city. Mike could work at home and take care of Mike Jr. and Tim when necessary. Besides writing for a scientific journal, Mike had published several books in his field of expertise, the biological and chemical sciences. They enjoyed city life, but escaped for occasional weekends to his family’s cabin in the Poconos.

  After a quick peek at the boys, still asleep, Maggie grabbed her small carry-on and purse and left the apartment. She caught the elevator to the lobby and hurried out of the building. She walked the short distance to the Express Subway Station entrance and took the stairs down to the dank platform. It was hot and muggy that early June Monday morning. She began to perspire but kept her pace. Checking her watch, she noted it was 6:45 a.m. She would have plenty of time to make the 7:30 a.m. check-in for the nine o’clock flight. She hated rushing, especially in this heat.

  Maggie and the others on the congested platform felt harried and damp from the humidity. They grew impatient as they waited for the train. None had noticed the small gray aerosol canister sitting behind a cement support column in a dark recess of the station. The can was spraying quietly, releasing an odorless vapor straight up into the acrid, stagnant air. It was dispersing an invisible cloud, sending particles at least one hundred feet in all directions.

  As the train came to a halt at the station, the automatic doors opened, and Maggie and the others pushed into the crowded car, everyone in a hurry to reach their destination.

  .

  2

  It was early Monday morning and very busy in the emergency room at All Saints Hospital in downtown Manhattan. Several of the examination cubicles were occupied with critical patients from the night before, waiting for admission. Others had crying babies, children with the flu, or patients with open cu
ts that needed stitching. Several patients that had arrived with chest pain or abdominal pain had been examined, x-rayed, and needed further observation before being sent home. Dr. David Grant was a board-certified emergency room physician and director of the Emergency Department. His high standards and brusque manner kept the ER staff at peak performance. He would tolerate only the most skilled doctors and nurses. Some of the staff were afraid of him and his harsh criticism, but he was highly respected by all of his colleagues.

  Dave was finally off duty after a twelve-hour shift. During those hours, Dr. Grant and the other two ER physicians and the nursing staff had seen eighty-four patients nonstop. He thrived on the adrenaline high of the job, but it was exhausting. He was in his office, located in the rear of the ER, behind the nurses’ lounge. Sitting at his cluttered oak desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, he studied the test results from one of the seriously ill patients remaining in the ER. Christina Noel, head nurse of the ER, had brought in the patient’s chart and a cup of black coffee. She stood near him as he looked over the report.

  Chris was staring at him as she waited for him to finish his thoughts. He had slate blue eyes, a graying crew cut and taut build. They shared the same passion and energy for their work and a deep mutual attraction. She placed the much needed coffee on his desk.

  After studying the reports, Dave threw the papers on the desk, took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes. He picked up the warm mug, took a sip, and said, “Thanks, Chris.”

  She asked, “How is he doing?”

  Dr. Grant exhaled, leaning back in his chair, and replied, “He’ll make it, but he needs a cardiologist. Call Dr. Stone and request a consult. He needs a cardiac cath and possible stent. I don’t like the looks of his enzymes or his EKG.”

  Chris picked up the phone and called Dr. Stone’s office, requesting the consult.

  “She can see him this morning after finishing her rounds,” said Chris.

  “Good. Thanks, Chris.” He looked up at her, realizing she had been watching at him.

  Chris moved behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. She could feel him relax as she massaged his back and neck. She knew how exhausted he must be. It had been a tense night. When Dave started as the emergency room director, Chris was thrilled. She was thirty-five, divorced, and had found no man appealing until Dave. Everyone knew they were lovers, except his wife. Dave and Chris shared not only a drive for perfection but compassion for their patients. They made a great team, in and out of the hospital.

  They had met a year ago when he moved from Vancouver, Washington, to Manhattan. He wanted the challenge of a New York hospital setting, where he was also on the teaching staff. It was a prestige position, and the money was excellent. His wife, Vicki, wasn’t happy with the move and made that perfectly clear. Their twenty-year marriage was floundering anyway, but the move was the final blow. She had stayed with him, though, and moved to New York. The money, power, and status were all she wanted. Their unspoken agreement was that their marriage was one of convenience. She took care of his home and their teenage daughter, Carolyn, and portrayed the proper wife when he had to attend social functions. He gave her what she wanted, the large paycheck and, more importantly, the status of being married to a brilliant doctor. Image was everything to Vicki.

  Chris was strikingly pretty, with shoulder-length auburn hair, deep brown eyes, and soft curves hidden under her scrubs. Dave turned his chair around and pulled her into his lap, kissing her mouth hard, as he slid his hand under her top. He unfastened her bra so he could feel her breasts. His fingers brushed her nipples, and the sensation made her wet. His hands on her full breasts made her nipples erect, and she uttered a low moan. He couldn’t stop touching her, her breasts and every part of her. Her tongue in his mouth made him throb and he almost came when she unzipped his pants and began stroking him. They were still embraced as he pulled her toward the leather sofa. He stopped kissing her just long enough to pull her shoes, scrub bottoms, and panties off. His pants were still on when he started making love to her, sliding into her warm wetness. Their love for each other was so strong, and their sexual need was intense. They climaxed quickly; their orgasms seemed unending. It had been an exhausting night, but passion and love was their release for the stressful work they shared. They stayed wrapped together, holding each other close. Dave was still deep inside of her, whispering love words, never wanting to let go.

  .

  3

  Joey Caruso had to leave his small house in Queens at 5:30 a.m. His wife, Donna, had gotten up late, but managed to get his breakfast ready anyway. Her casual housekeeping sometimes irked him, but she was a loving wife and a good mother. Rosa was still sleeping in her crib when Joey quietly entered her room to see his baby girl in her pink sleeper, just for a moment. She was breathing softly, and he lovingly put his hand on her little body, just a warm touch to say good-bye for the day. She had just a shadow of fine dark brown hair and blue eyes. She had inherited his dark Italian coloring. He was still overwhelmed by the miracle God had given to him and Donna. Blowing her a small kiss, he crept from her room.

  His breakfast was on the table. He was in his subway maintenance uniform, dark gray pants, and light gray shirt with his city badge, ID number and name on it. Joey yawned, tired from the weekend. He had stayed up too late watching the Yankees beat the White Sox. Though it was still early in the season, the Yankees showed great promise. Donna came over and kissed him on the lips. They gave each other a smile, and as she walked back to the sink, he gave her a gentle pat on her luscious behind. She and Rosa were his life, and he felt lucky as he looked around at the small kitchen and happy home they shared.

  While eating, Joey asked, “Is my lunch made?”

  She said, “Yes, and I put in your favorite dessert, too. A leftover slice of apple pie, a banana, plus the ham and cheese on rye that you like. Is that okay?”

  He said, “Thanks, honey. I dread going to work today. It’s going to be a hot one, and I am tired already.”

  “You should have come to bed early,” Donna said, while giving him an enticing smile.

  Joey said, “You’re right. I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

  Before leaving, he grabbed her and pulled her close for a special good-bye kiss. Now he really didn’t want to leave. He would definitely go to bed early tonight, no matter what was on TV. Donna wanted another baby so Rosa could have a brother or sister, and besides that, he wanted to make love to his sexy wife.

  They had met at a high school dance when Joey was a senior and Donna was only a sophomore. He had danced most of the night with Angela Martin, who had long legs and large breasts, along with a reputation for being easy. He kept noticing Donna standing with a few girlfriends and asked her to dance, a slow dance, and he loved the way she leaned against him and held him. The feel of her breath on his neck and her musky fragrance excited him. He kept pulling her closer to him and he could feel her respond. After their first dance, they were inseparable. Donna was wearing skin tight jeans and a low cut fluffy pink sweater that showed off her size C breasts, and Joey was captivated by this girl’s sexy body. He wanted to feel her beautiful body against him, and not just when dancing.

  One night in the back seat of his parents’ car, they made love; it was the first for them both. It had been awkward and Joey was overwhelmed. He had to make love to this girl and make her his forever. He knew she was scared and so was he but she didn’t say no to him and he knew she never would. He gave her his class ring that same night and told her he loved her and wanted to marry her. It was a promise he would keep.

  Joey headed out the door to get to work by 6:15 a.m. It was a boring job, in some ways, but each day was different. He had many responsibilities, from maintenance and inspection of the subway platform, to cleaning the restrooms. He had not been able to get a better job with just two years at the community college. He and Donna were doing okay though, because she had worked in the makeup department at Macy’s until Rosa came alon
g. His city maintenance job for the Metropolitan Transit Authority paid well enough, and the benefits were great. A secure home and family meant a lot to Joey, but he often felt like a failure for not making more money and only being a glorified janitor. He knew Donna was proud of him no matter what he did. Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but all in all, they had more than enough, and the love they shared was all the happiness she ever wanted. Baby Rosa had made their happiness complete.

  .

  4

  Dr. Suzy Chen left her condo at midnight and walked the five blocks, carrying only her purse and the package. The late model silver Taurus was just where they told her it would be.

  The nondescript cutoff man was at the drop site at 3:00 a.m. The city was dark with few cars passing. Suzy Chen saw the shadowed figure standing at the bus stop. She pulled alongside the curb, lowered the passenger window, and the unknown contact strode forward, reaching into the window with gloved hand, grabbing the department store bag from the seat. Suzy clutched the .38 S&W with her left hand, invisible to the hooded figure.

  He leaned forward and, in the briefest instant, with a raspy indistinguishable accent, asked, “How do I start the discharge?”

  Suzy said, “There is a black lever, just under the lid of the canister. The lever beside the discharge valve… push it all the way to the right.” She cautioned him. “Remember, it cannot be reversed, and the delay is only two minutes. Don’t forget. Put the cap in this weighted bag and toss it in the river.”

  Those were the last words spoken. The contact turned so fast, she couldn’t really see him, only his dark hooded sweatshirt, as he faded into the shadows.

  Dr. Chen drove off slowly, careful to avoid notice. It took about three hours for her to get back to Edgewood. She left the car where she found it and walked quickly back to her condo. Her heart was beating rapidly. She was relieved to have gotten rid of the canister.

  Chen was a respected biochemist and assistant director at Edgewood Laboratories, part of the Aberdeen Proving Grounds, and she had to be at work by eight o’clock. The return drive had given her time to decompress. She had labored for months, following with precision the instructions delivered to her by the Organization. The plan had been carefully formulated. Only two more tasks and her assignment would be complete.