Soothing, comforting words from an angel calmed her, and she drifted on the nothingness. A voice filled with anguish called her name, stopping her from moving deeper into the void, and holding her in place. She wanted to leave, wanted to see what was in the mist in front of her, but the voice compelled her to stay.
“Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”
Exhausted, she sank into oblivion once more.
* * *
The sounds of the hospital rousing for the day woke Neil. He yawned and stretched, amazed he’d gotten any sleep. The night had been a long one, and he was glad it was finally over. For a while there, he’d thought he would lose Nancy, and just when he believed she’d left him, she’d come back. He’d begged her not to go, and it seemed she’d listened.
The door opened once more, and he turned, hand on his gun, as alert as he’d been since entering the place. Doris came in with a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, inspector. I brought you something to eat. It isn’t much, but I figured you wouldn’t want to leave her.”
“Call me Neil, Doris. I’m going to be here awhile.”
Setting the tray down on the bedtable, she removed two small pouches, two syringes, and one large fluid-filled bag from the tray. After taking Nancy’s vitals and recording the information in the chart, she changed the IV bags and gave Nancy a couple of injections.
“Relax. She made it through the night, and she’s holding her own. That doesn’t mean she’s out of the woods yet, but it’s a good sign. Keep talking to her. It helps. I’m off until Friday. Look after yourself.”
After Doris left, Neil approached the bed once more. The nurse was right. He needed to take care of himself because Nancy would need help when this was over, and he had no intention of letting her push him away this time. Reaching for her hand, he grasped it in his. Her fingers were still cold, not as frigid as they’d been last night, and a memory of better times filled him.
He chuckled. “What is it they say? Cold hands, warm heart? Yours must be a veritable furnace. Do you remember the weekend I took you skiing in Vermont? Your hands and feet were like blocks of ice when we got back to the chalet. You sat so close to the fire, I was afraid you’d get singed, but you never complained. I’d known you were the one for me from the beginning, and that weekend cinched it.”
He sobered and raised her hand to his lips, fighting to keep his emotions in check.
“I don’t know where we derailed, Nancy. We’ve been through some tough times, but instead of pulling together, we pushed one another away. I just didn’t know how to deal with that much pain, and I’m sorry for that. Once you’re on the mend, we’ll go back to that chalet in the mountains, and figure out how to fix things between us. I’ll try to teach you to ski again. Maybe you’ll get it this time. We’ll make it work—we have to—because life without you isn’t worth living.”
He put her hand under the blanket, reached for the coffee Doris had left, walked over to the window, and stared outside, admiring the beauty and promise of the early morning sky.
Mid-morning found him next to the bed reading the latest news on his Smartphone. There wasn’t much about the previous day’s attack beyond what had been known last night. So far, no one had claimed responsibility for the massacre and that in itself was troubling. Terrorists were always eager to brag about their coups. He was about to open the Baltimore Sun to read the front page article when the door opened, admitting Meredith and Todd.
“How is she?” the lawyer asked, stepping over to the bed.
“Holding her own,” Neil answered. “She had a few rough moments last night, but the doctor’s hopeful, and so am I.”
Todd handed him a cup of coffee and his overnight bag.
“I brought you a few things.”
“Thanks.” Neil stood. “You know, one of these days, I’ll have to cut back on this stuff, but not yet.” He took a mouthful of coffee. “I’m going to get cleaned up. The nurse left soap and towels, and I can use the facilities in there.”
Stepping into the small washroom, he stripped off his clothes, examined his haggard face in the mirror and then scraped the razor across the stubble. He really needed a haircut, but that would have to wait. After using the handheld shower to wash, he donned clean clothes, and put on both his ankle and shoulder holsters, making sure both weapons were loaded and ready if needed. Until they knew exactly what had happened and who was responsible, he would stay armed and ready.
When he returned to the room, Tom stood by the window checking his notepad, while Meredith sat in the chair by the bed, reading aloud. She looked up as he closed the bathroom door.
“I thought I’d read to her a bit,” she said. “Is that okay?”
Neil tossed the bag of dirty clothes on the floor near Todd and Meredith’s coats, reached for his cooling coffee, and nodded.
“It’s a great idea. She loves being read to, but you know that. How many times have you attended the reading of Dickens, A Christmas Carol, with her? She said it always put her in the holiday mood.”
“We haven’t gone since, you know...”
He wouldn’t have bothered to celebrate the holiday either if it hadn’t been for Rebecca and Scotty.
“It hasn’t been a good time for either of us,” he said, regret filling him. “Todd and I have some things to talk about. Why don’t you keep reading to her? We’ll be back shortly.” He bent and kissed Nancy on the cheek. “I’ll be right outside. Enjoy your visit with Meredith while I’m gone.”
The lawyer smiled up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and picked up the book once more.
Closing the door behind them, they walked down the empty corridor to the deserted solarium. Through the windows, Neil could see all of Baltimore spread out in front of him. Sighing, he turned to Todd.
“According to the news, they still don’t know who did this. Is that true?”
“More or less. Have you seen the paper?” Todd asked instead of answering directly.
Neil frowned. “Not yet. I read a few articles online on my phone. I was about to have a look at the Sun when you arrived.”
“Al Jazeera commented on it,” Todd said, “but no one over there is claiming responsibility. It’s possible it’s a domestic terrorist attack, but none of the usual suspects have stepped up to the plate either.”
“What do the police have? Evans must’ve told you something.”
As a marshal, Neil’s job wasn’t to solve the cases but to protect the victims and witnesses. Sometimes, when the witness was as dirty as the person he was rolling on, it was difficult, like with Fred, but most of the time, his job was to save lives. There was a good working relationship between the marshal’s service, the JD, the FBI, and local police forces, but at times like these, Neil regretted not having chosen to work for one of the investigative branches. He wanted to find the men who’d done this and see them punished to the full extent of the law. In truth, he wanted to do it himself.
“He couldn’t tell me much since the FBI have stepped in and taken over. Whoever did this has pulled one hell of a Houdini. BPD found the van, wiped clean, down at the Inner Harbor, beside an empty slip. The crime scene techs recovered a significant amount of blood inside the vehicle. They have DNA, but without a sample to check it against...” Todd shrugged. “The van was reported stolen in New Jersey late Monday night. Something just doesn’t fit. The shell casings recovered came from AK 47s.”
“That doesn’t help. You can get those damn things almost anywhere for a price.”
“True.” He pulled out his notebook and flipped it open. “Thanks to forensics and the system the hostess used for reservations, it didn’t take as long as it might’ve to identify the dead and wounded patrons. Nancy was with Larry Jackson and Melissa Paxton. They identified your wife by her medical bracelet. There was a large bag under the table that might be hers, but there’s nothing of any value in it—no cellphone, computer, or wallet. They took all the identification off the diners they sho
t ... Left rings and expensive watches, so robbery probably wasn’t the motive. Incidentally, other than a bus boy who survived, all fourteen of the other employees died.”
Neil frowned, trying to process what Todd was saying. “Killing all of the staff could point to disgruntled employees, but then why kill restaurant patrons and take wallets and ID? That sounds like something you’d do if you needed proof of death. How many diners were killed?”
“Ten. Nine men and Melissa Paxton. It doesn’t make sense.”
Still trying to put the puzzle together, Neil pursed his lips. “If the bag under the table was the size of a backpack, it’s probably Nancy’s, but she didn’t carry her computer in there ... not enough room with everything else she had in it. If she had her computer with her, it would’ve been in a red satchel. What do you know about Jackson and Melissa Paxton?”
“Jackson’s a lawyer. Meredith said they were old friends which was how she’d convinced Nancy to help out. Ethan Paxton was screwing around on his wife, and it looked like he might be doing it again with the alimony and support. The husband and his lawyer B.J. Pratt didn’t make it to the restaurant. The reservation was in Pratt’s name not Jackson’s.”
“Convenient of that scumbag to be late,” Neil mumbled.
“If he ever planned on attending. The FBI have more theories than evidence right now. While they can’t completely dismiss the idea of angry employees, some think it might be a mob hit and that Pratt, not Jackson, was the intended target. They’re also checking out the husband. The wife’s injuries were substantial, worse than anyone else’s. He identified her by a birthmark on her stomach, and apparently kept muttering that she wasn’t supposed to be there.”
Neil shook his head in disgust. “He wouldn’t be the first man to decide a casket was cheaper than alimony payments.” The thought that what had happened to Nancy and the others might be collateral damage made him sick. “As far as Pratt goes, the man’s as slippery as an eel and as trustworthy as a hungry shark. Nancy dealt with him just after we were married.”
“That’s Meredith’s take on him, although she wasn’t quite so polite about it.”
Neil paced the small room. “If the wife didn’t want to play ball, a last minute hit wouldn’t leave much time for finesse. Messy might work, throw suspicion elsewhere as it has. I might believe Pratt could arrange something like this if so many hadn’t been killed. He’s probably lower than a snake’s belly, but I can’t see him condoning mass murder. Besides, if he wanted his client’s wife killed, why take out all the staff? We’re missing something.”
“Speaking of snakes, the police aren’t ready to give up on the gang angle. Snakebite’s still the frontrunner,” Todd continued. “He was there with his uncle, a two-bit lawyer who claims he was working out a deal between the Warriors and the Cobras.”
“Sure he was. The day gang turf wars are settled by lawyers like land disputes is the day I win Powerball.”
Todd chuckled. “I agree. When you get your ticket, I’ll pay half. The police talked to the lawyer last night. He was cowering under the table. Took two in the leg and one in the butt.” He sniggered. “Can’t think of a better place for a scumbag lawyer to get shot. He claims Snakebite saved lives by shooting one of the assailants—making out like the kid is a hero and should get a medal.”
“Any way to prove it’s the truth?”
“Yup. The police recovered a Smith & Wesson at the scene—numbers filed off—and one of the killers definitely bled out in that van,” Todd said. “If the cops find out the lawyer knew this was going down, the guy’s going to wish he’d died. They find it hard to believe the Warriors would do something of this magnitude, especially when they don’t think the gang has any ties to Jersey. The van might’ve been stolen there, but the Russian mob has a tight rein on everything. I suppose someone could’ve called in a favor ... Still, the cops are canvassing all the clinics in the area on the lookout for any gunshot or knife wounds. Around here, they’ll dig out a bullet themselves and mess up the area to disguise it.”
“Ouch!”
Neil shook his head. “None of the scenarios you’ve mentioned fit with what we have. Employees gone postal wouldn’t have killed the diners. With the manpower they had, if this was a gang hit, they’d have gone after the Cobra nest, not just their number two man. If Paxton wanted his wife dead, he would’ve arranged something less public and made sure he had a rock-solid alibi.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Right now, the only thing that does fit is a terrorist attack. So why isn’t someone claiming responsibility?”
“There’s something else,” Todd admitted, “but I’m not sure what it means.”
“Let’s hear it. Since it’s obviously bothering you, it must mean something.”
“Pratt and Paxton weren’t the only ones who didn’t show up for their reservations. Evans had the book with him, and I caught a glimpse of the names. One of them was Fred Russell. Reservation for two.”
Neil’s eyebrows grew so close together they looked like one. “Like our package?”
“Yeah, but it’s a popular lunch place, so it could be a completely different person. Before I say anything, I’m waiting to see what Evans turns up.”
“I hate coincidences.” Neil scowled. “What do we know about the attempt on his life?”
“Not much. Had it not happened, he would’ve been back here on Sunday.”
“In plenty of time to meet his friend for lunch,” Neil added, scratching his chin. “Didn’t he claim a client was behind the attempt? As a crooked broker, he could’ve pissed off the wrong people.”
“Yeah, and the one he’s rolling on is Ramirez,” Todd said. “If that crazy bastard found out he’d survived the attempt in LA, he’s just insane enough to do something like this.”
Neil nodded. “But we’re guessing. We can’t even be sure this Fred Russell is our guy. Where’s the gang member?”
“Two doors down from Nancy. He’s in bad shape. They plan to pull the plug on him as soon as his parents arrive, it could be all over but the crying.”
“Well, if Snakebite was the intended victim, let’s make sure the bad guys know he’s on his way out. Come on. I want to ask Meredith a few questions. Since she knows why Nancy was meeting with Jackson and Pratt, she may know more than she thinks she does.”
Chapter Six
Neil entered Nancy’s room with Todd on his heels, convinced his partner was still keeping something from him. Meredith stopped reading and smiled at them.
“How did the briefing go?” she asked.
“As expected,” Neil answered. “The FBI’s running the show now, and they keep their cards pretty close to their chests. By the way, Todd, who’s in charge?”
“Jarett Mahoney.”
Neil frowned. He’d had dealings with the man on other cases, and they hadn’t gotten along well. Getting information out of him would be like herding cats.
“Not my favorite person. Let’s hope he does a better job this time than he did in New York.” He turned to Meredith. “I have some questions you might be able to answer. You knew why she was here. I know it’s a stretch, but since the FBI have so little to go on, an angry husband intent on hiding his money can’t be overlooked. Maybe you know something that might help.”
Meredith placed a bookmark between the pages of the novel and closed it.
“Ask away.”
Neil examined her hopeful face and wasn’t sure where to start. The last thing he wanted to do was come across as an interrogator. Meredith was a friend, not a witness, nor a suspect.
“What can you tell me about the case Nancy was investigating?”
Tears welled in Nancy’s eyes. “Not much. Larry Jackson was an old friend. We both knew Melissa’s family.”
“I didn’t realize you were that close,” Neil said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“It’s the reason why I asked Nancy to help,” Meredith said. “I’d let things lapse. You know how Nancy was. If that man was
trying to cheat Melissa and the girls, she’d go after him with everything in her.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“Go on,” he said, trying to encourage her.
“We met at Lucifer’s for supper on Saturday night. She loves their quiche and toxic margaritas.”
“Toxic margaritas?” Todd made a face. “Give me a beer any day.”
“Sugar,” Meredith laid on the Southern accent. “Those strawberry margaritas are delicious and poison to anyone’s bad mood whether they’re in a glass or flavoring a cheesecake. Once you try it, you’re hooked.”
“Did she say anything about the case?” Neil tried to hide his impatience, but knew he’d failed when he saw the look on Meredith’s face.
“Not much, but I gather she thought Paxton had hidden money somehow. The numbers weren’t talking to her the way they should.”
Neil’s shoulders slumped. That wasn’t much help.
“Oh, she did ask me about something else … an investment company of some sort. Something about Paxton’s portfolio didn’t look right. Apparently, the man had invested heavily in it. Caravan, Clayton … I can’t remember, but it had her puzzled.”
“Claymore Investments?” Todd interrupted, his voice filled with excitement.
Meredith grinned. “Yes! That’s it. Are you familiar with it? I wasn’t. She was going to ask Larry about a subpoena to see if it might be a shell company or a scam stealing the guy’s money. Did that help?”
Before Neil could answer, Todd did.
“More than you’ll ever know.”
Todd turned to Neil and pulled him over to the window.
“I need to contact the Justice Department,” he whispered. “Someone has to talk to the package as soon as possible. Our guy has to be the one who missed his reservation.”
“What are you talking about?” Neil asked, confused by Todd’s excitement.
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