Twisted: Nick Stryker Series, Book Two The Shallow End Gals

by Vicki Graybosch

  Artie smiled, “Today I heard rumors that there was bad blood growing between the Northside crew and the Westside crew. I suppose it’s possible that Milo is picking off the weak links before he goes after Dom. Maybe it was Milo that had Tommy and Carson hit.”

  Momma set her tea cup down and smoothed her robe. “This is just my opinion, but there is so much mistrust, ego and greed in these crews that by the time the finger pointin’s done, everybody’s gonna be dead. Most times they’re all wrong in their thinkin’, too.”

  Artie’s phone rang. He excused himself to stand in Momma’s small kitchen at the other end of the apartment. Momma could tell from the tone of his voice that something was very wrong. Artie returned to the couch.

  Momma asked, “Is everything alright, dear?”

  Artie put his phone back in his pocket. “No. Someone hit Dom at his estate tonight. Killed Dom, his doctor and all but one guard. This is real bad. Guess it just happened about an hour ago.” Artie thought about what he had just said about Milo and the Northside crew looking to take over Dom.

  Momma pretended to take the news in stride. “Well, you live by the sword, you die by the sword. You knew someday this would happen to Dominick. I can guarantee you that he didn’t see no bright light when he passed! They got plenty of guys waiting in the wings to take his place. Life and crime goes on. Why don’t you go freshen up for bed and forget all this killin’ nonsense? I’ve got a couple of things to do downstairs before I call it a night.”

  Artie kissed Momma’s cheek. “I should have fought harder to steal your heart; beautiful and wise.” Artie grabbed his small bag and walked toward the bathroom. “I shall try to leave some hot water.”

  “You don’t worry ‘bout that. I’ve already had my shower. You sleep tight now.”

  Momma waited until she could hear the water running in the shower and got the envelope with Sophia’s number out from under her drawer. She slipped her cell phone and the envelope in her robe pocket and walked clear down to the basement where she locked the door behind her and walked to the far corner. It was important her call not be heard. She dialed Sophia’s number, let it ring three times, and hung up.

  A full ten minutes passed. Momma was just about to dial again when her cell rang. “Darlin’, I’ve got some breakin’ news.”

  * * *

  Renee glanced at Ryan as they drove past the guard at the gate and headed away from Brookfield Place. Dr. Elmhurst was in the trunk. Renee was near panic. “I don’t know if I can do this, Ryan. I’m tempted to turn around and go back.”

  “I’d rather make a mistake than have someone else come up missing or dead.” Ryan’s face was twitching.

  “Ryan, have you taken your meds today?” Renee didn’t know if Ryan’s twitch was because of stress or his disorder.

  Ryan rubbed his hands over his face. “I couldn’t find the drug order. I should have taken my meds at noon. I’ve got two doses in my pocket. I was trying to hold off until later before taking one.”

  Renee’s heart sank. Her partner in this little adventure was a paranoid schizophrenic, off his meds, and she had a drugged up doctor in her trunk. Renee thought of Tyler from Building A. Tyler would give her meds for Ryan.

  “The Administrator for Building A will give me meds for you, don’t worry.” Ryan’s face twitched again. “For God’s sake, take a dose now! Both of us can’t be paranoid!”

  Ryan smiled, dug in his pocket and popped one of his pills. The ‘Ride Share’ parking lot was just ahead.

  Ryan said, “Let’s pull over in there and get him out of the trunk.”

  Renee pulled into the lot and drove to the far back corner, away from the parking lot light. The other cars in the lot were empty. Renee popped the lock on the trunk and watched through her side mirror as Ryan helped Dr. Elmhurst steady himself. Moments later, Dr. Elmhurst was seated in the back seat. Renee and Ryan sat silently waiting for him to speak.

  Finally Renee spoke. “Dr. Elmhurst, Ryan and I have committed a crime by removing you from the facility without authorization. We’ll need your help explaining what has happened to the police.”

  He wondered why Renee had called him Dr. Elmhurst. That must be his name.

  “Ryan called you Renee. Thank you, Renee, for saving me. You too Ryan. I don’t want to be difficult, but I don’t want to see the police yet. I need to get my memory back first. If I could just rest somewhere for the night, I’m sure my mind would be better. Couldn’t we go in the morning?”

  Ryan looked at Renee. This was a turn of events he hadn’t expected.

  Renee turned to look at Dr. Elmhurst. “I don’t know what kind of drugs you have been on or for how long. You’re either going to a hospital or the police station right now, no debate.” Renee hoped she sounded more in charge than she felt.

  Dr. Elmhurst leaned toward the front seat. “Wouldn’t a hospital or the police need me to fill out forms? I don’t even know my first name? Do you?”

  Renee answered, “We can easily find that out. What’s important is not to make a bad situation even worse.”

  Ryan asked Renee, “Wasn’t that your brother that brought you this car? Would he let Dr. Elmhurst spend the night?”

  Renee spoke to no one in particular. “Yeah, all I need is to involve my family in this little prison escape.” Renee was close to breaking down from the stress of what she had done and now the pressure from Dr. Elmhurst’s begging was pushing her to the edge. The mention of Eli gave her an idea.

  Eli had just finished his shower, put on his boxers and grabbed a beer from his refrigerator when his phone rang. “Hey, Sis. What’s up?”

  Renee sputtered, “We need your help! I just helped a doctor escape Brookfield Place in the trunk of Momma’s car. He’s been held prisoner and drugged. People are missing, maybe dead, and my name is on a skull list! Another patient, well ex-patient that pretends to be a nurse, is with me. What’s that cop’s name you know?”

  Eli sat his beer down. What the heck was she talking about? “Are you okay? You sound high or somethin’.”

  Renee started to cry. “Eli, I need you! Call that cop friend of yours and tell him to meet us at your house.”

  Eli freaked, “My house? Hell no! Take these people to the 107th Precinct. I’ll get Oink there and I’ll meet you.”

  Renee started to calm down. “What’s this cop’s real name? I’ve got enough to explain without walking into a police station and asking for Oink.”

  * * *

  Nick had gone back to the station after dinner at Lacey’s. He felt restless and knew he couldn’t sleep anyway. For the last hour he had reviewed the stack of papers that Jen had left on his desk regarding Billow. She had also made a chart showing all of the places Billow had been assigned to in the last five years.

  The quiet of the homicide room was interrupted by Jen walking in and plopping her purse on her desk. “I see you couldn’t enjoy your evening either.”

  “John’s going to think you don’t like him anymore.” Nick rolled back his chair and stretched his back. “Thanks for getting all of this together.”

  Jen turned her computer on and twisted her chair to face Nick. “I just can’t get Billow out of my head. Assuming you really saw Billow at the bank robbery, which I believe you did, then he is probably in what they call an Independent Living Program. I can’t confirm it, because this hospital, Brookfield Place, hasn’t updated their reports to the state in two months. The latest news about Billow was Dr. Elmhurst requesting a release hearing 28 days ago.”

  Nick took out a small notebook from his pocket. “Travis Cummings said he had just left a meeting with Dr. Elmhurst at Brookfield Place before someone shot at him in that mall parking lot. I still don’t understand why he went there. He’s holding something back. I need to talk to Cummings again.”

  Nick punched in the number for Agent Phillips. After a couple of rings he finally answered. “Phillips.”

  Nick asked, “How can I talk to Cummings?”

  Ph
illips asked, “Why?”

  “Because I think he knows more than he’s told us. I’m trying to pin down who shot at him in the parking lot.”

  Phillips gave Nick a number. “By the way, I’m heading to Dominick Guioni’s estate right now.”

  Nick looked at his watch, it was after ten. “What’s up?”

  Phillips answered, “We have a tip that there’s been a massacre there. Gotta go.” The line went dead.

  Nick looked at Jen, “This is going to be a long night. The FBI is on their way to Dom’s estate. They have a tip that there’s been a massacre there.”

  Jen had walked up to the murder board and now stood facing Nick. “How would that fit with what we know the Westside crew has been up to?”

  Nick looked at the murder board. “Humor me for a minute. I still think the original hit on Reggie Lomas was a mistake, and Attorney Baxter and Alexia Cummings were killed to cover it up.” Nick pointed at the board. “Let’s put Lomas, Attorney Baxter and Alexia Cummings in with all of the hits that Baxter got paid for and ballistics matched to that rifle. Keep them to the side. Then let’s start a column titled Brookfield.”

  Jen nodded her head as she changed the murder board to reflect its new structure.

  Nick said, “Let me make a quick call to Cummings before it gets much later.” As Nick waited for someone to pick up the line, he pointed at the murder board. “We might as well start a victim column for Dom. Evidently somebody wanted him dead, too.”

  Jen squeezed in Dom’s name for another column. She realized that they had filled the entire nine foot murder board, except for a small space in the middle. Jen picked up a red marker and put a big question mark in that space. She plopped down in a chair, stared at the board and listened to Nick talk to Cummings on the phone.

  “Travis? This is Nick Stryker. Tell me again why you went to Brookfield Place?” Nick listened a while and then said, “You’re not playing straight here. You could have told them they were late paying the skim by phone. Remember, your deal blows up if you lie or fail to cooperate. Why did you drive there in person?”

  Nick clicked his pen as he listened. “Who was there?” Nick wrote on his desk pad. “How much did they give you?” Nick wrote again. “That was two months’ worth? Didn’t you think it was strange they gave you cash? What were you going to do with it?” Nick listened quite a while and then asked, “You’re sure the only people that knew you had that money were Dr. Elmhurst and this other guy? You say your briefcase with the cash in it was stolen while you were purchasing a phone?” Nick looked at Jen and rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you mention this missing cash before?” Nick stopped clicking his pen and frowned. “You were afraid to admit that you lost Dom’s money? That’s bull. You offered to turn over all of that to the FBI, remember? What else was in that briefcase?”

  Travis Cummings was many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. Stryker was going to kick this nest until something came out. He couldn’t afford to have the FBI back out on his deal. “What else was in the briefcase that was more important than the cash? My personal ledger tracking my kickbacks from Milo Spulane. Milo wants to incorporate the Westside crew into his own and needed to know specifics. I gave them to him. The real reason I don’t want the FBI getting my notebook is my offshore account numbers are in there. That notebook never left my sight. I planned to use that money to hide after I testified.”

  Nick said, “So, you didn’t mention the notebook because it could lead the FBI to your assets.”

  Nick hung up from his call with Travis and walked over to the murder board. He wrote Dr. Elmhurst and mystery man under the heading Brookfield. He drew a red line from Cummings’ name to Brookfield and from Cummings’ name to Joey Lacastra’s name under the mob heading.

  Wayne walked in the room, followed by Eli, and smiled at Jen and Nick. “Well, at least I don’t have to chase you two down. Sam is on his way in.” Wayne sat at his desk and rolled his chair toward the murder board. “We need a bigger board. We have got a whole group of people on the way here to report murders, missing people, and a kidnapping at your Brookfield Place.”

  Jen looked at Wayne, “We also have a massacre at Dominick Guioni’s estate.”

  Wayne stood and headed for the door, “I’ll go steal the white board from the Chief’s office.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Wednesday 10:30 pm

  Jake Billow secured Lacey in a closet. Her mouth, hands and feet were duct taped. He injected Lacey with what was left in the syringe. He had no idea if he was overdosing her or not. He didn’t care. The gash on the side of her forehead had stopped bleeding and now had swollen into a good sized goose egg. Too bad, she was quite the beauty otherwise. Billow felt a chill rush up his spine. He imagined Nick’s rage finding out his precious Lacey now belonged to him. Satisfied that Lacey was properly secured, he locked the closet door and pushed the tall chest back in front of it.

  He was too wired to sleep. It was time to mess with Nick. He wanted Nick furious. What better way than to shoot a few cops? He always killed in threes. He was sure that Nick would remember. He grabbed a handful of ammunition and dropped it in his coat pocket. Billow headed outside to his van. Nick would know he was back when he heard that third call.

  * * *

  Agent Phillips stood outside Dom’s house and watched as the Crime Scene Techs and Coroner’s team investigated the scene and the bodies. A fellow agent walked up and shook his head. “He’s not here.”

  Phillips said, “Then he’s not dead.”

  Agent Phillips walked over to where the one surviving guard was being interrogated. He grabbed the guard’s shoulder and turned him. “Where did you take him?”

  The guard looked puzzled. “Take who?”

  “You know who: Dom. You’ve had plenty of time to take him somewhere.” Agent Phillips looked around. “Or maybe he drove himself out of here. Or maybe he’s been kidnapped. Did you check the shooter’s trunk?”

  Phillips looked at the other agent, “Do we have a handle on what cars might be missing from here?” The agent turned and walked away quickly as he talked into his cell phone.

  Agent Phillips studied the guard’s face. Phillips didn’t know if he was scared to death, in shock, or in on some plot. “What’s the mob’s punishment for a guard that lets something like this happen?”

  The guard had dead eyes and answered, “I’d rather be one of them right now.” He pointed to the bodies waiting to be loaded into the coroner’s wagon.

  Phillips responded, “You’ll be safe for a while. Turn around; you’re under arrest for accessory to murder.” Phillips cuffed him and then pushed him toward another agent. “Read him his rights.”

  * * *

  Frankie woke to the ear blasting shrills of his new phone. He turned on the bedside light and saw that the caller had blocked the ID. It better not be Artie wanting to move back in.

  “Yeah?”

  It was Dom. Frankie listened for a very long time, all the while trying to dress. Finally Frankie spoke, “Your trust is not misplaced. Give me the address.” Frankie had Dom repeat the address a second time. This would not be the time to make another mistake.

  Dom said, “I’ll be in touch. Only a trusted few know I survived tonight. I expect you to keep it that way. Punk didn’t think I’d wear a vest and plate inside my home.” Dom coughed, “I don’t want him to see daylight.” The line went dead.

  * * *

  Renee, Ryan and Dr. Elmhurst arrived at the 107th Precinct and were escorted upstairs to the homicide room. Wayne was already talking to Eli at a long table they had set up in the center of the room. Nick, Jen and Sam were at their desks working.

  Sam suddenly shouted to Nick. “Hey, ballistics just confirmed the rifle used to shoot out Cummings’ car was the same rifle used on Lomas and the rest of those mob hits you have in the big red circle.”

  Wayne turned his head, “What? If there was already a mob hit man out for Cummings, why was Joey Lacastra hired?”


  Nick and Jen exchanged questioning glances.

  Nick said, “Same gun doesn’t mean the same shooter.”

  Jen raised her arms in a stretch. “Could this case get any stranger?”

  Renee, Ryan and Dr. Elmhurst entered the room.

  Eli looked at Jen. “Yep.”

  Sam, Wayne, Nick, Jen and Eli listened as Renee and Ryan ticked off every strange thing that had been happening at Brookfield Place. When they finished talking, Eli rested his head in his hands and moaned.

  Wayne asked Renee, “Your decision to remove Dr. Elmhurst from the facility was based on your belief, and some evidence, that he was in grave danger, correct?”

  Renee nodded and answered, “Yes.”

  Wayne glanced at Nick and then said, “I don’t think you two have to worry about being in trouble, especially since you came straight to the police.”

  Nick asked Renee, “Who is taking care of the patients in Building D now?”

  Renee and Ryan answered together, “No one.”

  Nick directed his next question to Ryan, “Are you a nurse there, too?”

  Ryan’s cheek twitched when he answered, “I’m a paranoid schizophrenic. With my medications I function well and live off campus. I have a job at Brookfield to assist with patient care. I’m not really a nurse.”

  Eli whispered to Wayne, “He’s a patient?”

  Wayne ignored Eli and directed his next question to Dr. Elmhurst. “You were the Administrator to Building D before being abducted?”

  Dr. Elmhurst answered, “I believe so, yes. At least that’s what Ryan and Renee have told me. I don’t remember much. I’m so sorry, but I just don’t have my memory back yet; there are too many drugs in my system. Could I lie down somewhere?”

  Nick had wanted to ask Dr. Elmhurst about the release hearing request for Billow, but realized that Dr. Elmhurst was in no condition to give an answer.

  Jen offered, “We have a holding room that’s mostly used by us for naps. Would you like to go there?”

  Dr. Elmhurst shrugged, “I’ve been in a cell for weeks. The prospect of going in another one doesn’t sound very appealing.”