The Appointment Killer

by Remington Kane

  When she entered the coffee shop, she walked up to the table, leaned over, and kissed him softly on the lips.

  Jason had jerked his head back in surprise and stared at her as she sat across from him.

  “What was that kiss for?”

  “What do you think it was for?”

  He gestured at her. “What’s going on, Heather? What do you want from me?”

  “Why do I have to want something?”

  “Because you’re being too nice. I know you say that you were nasty to me in the past because you were drinking, but the truth is that you just didn’t like me.”

  “I didn’t like myself, Jason, so how could I like anyone else?”

  “I wasn’t particularly crazy about myself either back then and I never lashed out at anyone.”

  “What did you do with those feelings?”

  “I kept them inside me… and they’re still there.”

  “Then I guess we’re different. Please trust me when I say that I’m not up to anything, all I want to do is to get to know you better,” Heather said, as she reached over and took his hand.

  Jason felt a jolt of desire pass through him. He looked down at their clasped hands, and then up into Heather’s eyes.

  “You’re so beautiful, Heather. Why would you want to be with someone who looks like me?”

  Heather released his hand as she sat back in her seat with her jaw going slack. She stared at Jason, then laughed.

  “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “What don’t I know?”

  “Jason, news flash, you’re not the nerdy kid I used to pick on anymore. Maybe you haven’t taken a good look in a mirror lately, but—you’re a hunk.”

  “A hunk? Me?”

  Heather laughed again. “If you were a girl, I would say that you’ve blossomed. When I first saw you again a few weeks ago, it blew my mind. You’re taller than I remember you being, and no longer skinny. I’m no fan of the glasses, but I can live with them.”

  “I grew several inches in college, and I joined a gym three years ago.”

  Heather leaned across the table while grinning. “A friend of mine is throwing a party. I want you to go there with me.”

  “You’re trying not to drink and you’re hanging out at parties?”

  “This is a friend from AA, so no booze. Are you all right with that?”

  Jason made a small shrugging motion. “I’ve never been a drinker. Alcohol usually makes me sleepy.”

  “Are you saying you’ll come with me?”

  “Like a date?”

  “Yes,” Heather said, and then she sat back. “You’re not already seeing someone, are you?”

  “I haven’t had a date in over a year, but why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  “I… it’s not easy for me with most guys… because of the rape. I have trust issues.”

  “Oh.”

  “You already know about it, and we’ve known each other for years.”

  “Do you ever think about her, Heather, about Lila?”

  “Lila,” Heather said, as she looked down at the table. “Yes, I think about her, and I wish she was here so that I could apologize to her.”

  “You think she would forgive you?”

  “Maybe, we were just kids years ago; as an adult, she might understand what I was going through back then.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as what Lila went through.”

  “No, and it’s such a tragedy that she killed herself.”

  “Yes, it is,” Jason said.

  Heather rose from her seat and stood. “Will you go to the party with me?”

  “I’ll go; where is it?”

  “It’s in the Village.”

  “We’ll take my car, or actually, it’s Mr. Marx’s car, since he lets me keep it.”

  They left the coffee shop together, and as they strolled along toward Jason’s car, Heather reached over and took his hand.

  Chapter Sixteen

  WASHINGTON, DC, SUNDAY, JULY 14th

  Erica began Sunday morning with a trip to the gym that lasted nearly two hours and included a lot of time on the treadmill. She had been eating too much in New York City, as she often did while on the road. Having battled a weight problem as a child, she was on guard against her tendency to gain pounds.

  She hadn’t told Angel that she would be returning to town for a day and wanted to surprise him. Since he usually worked at her mother’s restaurant on Sundays, Erica assumed he would be there.

  Carlotta greeted her youngest daughter at the restaurant’s entrance with a kiss and a hug. The restaurant, Carlotta’s, was clearly named after Erica’s mother, and was popular enough to be crowded every night.

  Erica’s sister, Cassie, worked alongside their mother. Cassie handled the recordkeeping, ordering, and employees, while Carlotta concentrated on the kitchen and the customers.

  Erica envied her sister’s closeness to their mother but knew she would never be happy working outside the Bureau. It thrilled her whenever she helped to apprehend a violent criminal. Erica’s passion was the hunt, and she had bagged her share of big game over the last few years.

  Inside the Bureau was a division that focused on apprehending serial killers. Erica hoped to be assigned to it someday. The truth was, all other cases bored her. What greater stakes were there than life or death?

  Erica had gotten her alluring curves and strawberry-blonde hair from her mother, but her large green eyes were a gift from her late father.

  Erica’s father had been a decorated Washington, DC cop. He had drowned in the Potomac River after rescuing three young kids from a car that had crashed into the water. Despite his exhaustion, Officer Novac went back to save the children’s mother from a faulty seat belt. The young mother had been trapped in the submerged vehicle. Officer Novac succeeded, but it cost him his life. The mother of the children was resuscitated after being dragged from the water by a fire & rescue unit. The body of Erica’s father was recovered the next day. Erica had been only eight years old.

  “Angel’s not here?” Erica asked her sister, Cassie.

  “No,” Cassie said, “he asked to switch his day off this week so that he could do some carpentry work.”

  Erica was talking to her sister inside the office. Cassie was three years older than Erica, married, and the mother of two children. Cassie favored Erica, but her hair was dark and worn longer.

  The office contained a wooden desk, filing cabinets, and a table and chairs set that could seat four. It was where Carlotta and Cassie ate their meals, and where Erica dined whenever she visited alone.

  Her nephew Brady was there as well. He was helping out his mother and grandmother to earn money for a new bike.

  “I was hoping to surprise him; he still thinks I’m in New York.”

  “I saw Angel earlier over at Gabe’s house,” Brady said.

  Erica blinked in surprise. “You saw him there today?”

  “Yeah, he was coming up the steps as I was leaving. Gabe’s mom was talking to him when I left.”

  “Felicia Downing,” Erica said, as she recalled Gabe’s sexy mother, and the way she was looking at Angel when they had run into her.

  Cassie got up from her desk and grabbed a broom and a dust pan.

  “Brady, go clean the walkway out front again.”

  “I just did it about an hour ago.”

  “They get filthy fast, now go.”

  Brady left to do as his mother said, and Cassie took a seat at the table across from Erica.

  “I’ve met Felicia Downing, Erica, and I’d be worried too if Mike was over there.”

  “I’m not… I mean I trust Angel. If he’s over there, he must have a good reason. Felicia did say something about having some carpentry work done.”

  Cassie smiled. “Good, then that must be it. And you’re right, I don’t think Angel is the type to cheat on you.”

  “Do you know where Felicia lives?”

  “Yeah, I’ll write the address down for you; I
drop Brady off there often.”

  Erica took out her phone. “I’ll give Angel a call.”

  “I’ll let you have some privacy while I go check on Brady.”

  Cassie left the office as Erica made the call. Angel picked up on the third ring.

  “Erica, hi, I was just thinking of you. Please tell me you’re coming home soon.”

  “I’m here. I’m at the restaurant… I thought you were working today; I wanted to surprise you.”

  “I switched my days off when I got a handyman job. It was Gabe’s mom, Felicia, you know, the one we met last week at the show.”

  Erica felt tension leave her after Angel mentioned Felicia. It meant that he wasn’t attempting to hide the fact that he had seen her.

  “What sort of work is it?”

  “She needed three new boards replaced on her front porch steps. I just finished installing them, but I’ll have to come back and stain them on another day; they say it might rain tonight.”

  “So, you’ll be leaving there soon?”

  “I was about to head home, but I’ll come to the restaurant instead.”

  “No, head to my apartment and I’ll meet you there. I’ll have mom pack up some food for us too.”

  “That sounds good; I missed breakfast, but I missed you more.”

  “I missed you too, and I… I’ll see you soon.”

  Erica realized that she had almost told Angel that she loved him, then realized it was true. Although they had been together for about seven months, it had been a period in which they were both busy and rarely spent much time together. That would likely always be true for any of her relationships, as active as her job kept her. Angel worked even more than she did, and wanted a career in the restaurant business, which would ensure that he always worked long hours. Could real love form when they spent such limited time together? Or was quality and quantity of time needed to get to know a person well?

  Erica said goodbye to her family and left the restaurant loaded down with the bags of food her mother had given her. Instead of driving straight to her apartment, she made a detour to Felicia Downing’s house.

  Three fresh wooden steps were visible on the home’s front porch, just as Angel said there were. Erica felt bad about checking up on him and wished that she hadn’t done it. When she thought about Frank Vann taking a cab to spy on his wife and her lover, and saw how similar her actions were, it filled her with disgust.

  Angel couldn’t have been happier to see Erica and swept her up in his arms as she stepped out of her car. As he carried the bags of food up to Erica’s apartment, he asked her about the case, and if there had been any further developments.

  “It’s been quiet, but I doubt that will last; these types of killers don’t usually stop unless they’re caught.”

  “Does that mean you’re going back to New York soon?”

  “I fly out in the morning after a quick stop at the office, where I’ll meet up with Brad.”

  “Then we’ll make the most of today.”

  Since they were both hungry, they decided to eat right away. Erica had a small portion of baked ziti and a salad, while Angel devoured a large plate of ham, sweet potatoes, and macaroni & cheese.

  As they were sipping on their drinks after the meal, Erica discussed the case in general. She never talked about specifics, but since Ted Marx had made the case so public, many people knew at least some of the details surrounding it.

  “Is it possible that someone is stalking and killing sexual predators?” Angel said.

  “Why do you ask, because the first victim was a convicted pedophile?”

  “Yeah, and the second victim was sleeping with a high school girl years earlier, right?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “Ted Marx had a new video on this morning. It showed him chasing after a woman named Tiffany Vann. He claims that she had an affair with the second victim when she was just sixteen.”

  Erica sat her glass down and reached for her phone. When she found Ted Marx’s ViewTube channel, she watched the latest video. It was as Angel said, Marx was chasing Tiffany Vann as he shouted questions at her about the affair. They appeared to be outside a crowded church that had just let out its congregation.

  Erica ended the video and had to be careful not to slam her phone onto the table.

  “That was harassment and I hope she sues him.”

  “What’s Marx like? Is he always that intense?”

  “He’s annoying, but we have to deal with him since the perp has made contact with him. We’re still looking into whether the killer could be someone he knows personally.”

  “What if Marx is the killer, and he’s doing this to get publicity and raise his viewership?”

  Erica smiled as she imagined cuffing Marx and shoving him inside a cell. She then frowned. “That would be too good to be true.”

  Angel laughed. “I’m starting to sense that you don’t like Ted Marx.”

  Erica used her napkin to wipe her mouth, then stood, walked over to Angel, and leaned down to kiss him.

  “You’re who I like.”

  “Is that so? Just how much do you like me?”

  Erica kissed him again, with more passion.

  “Let’s head into the bedroom.”

  Angel stood, then surprised Erica by sweeping her off her feet and carrying her. She giggled all the way into the bedroom.

  Chapter Seventeen

  WASHINGTON, DC, MONDAY, JULY 15th

  Erica arrived at the office around eight a.m. and smiled when she saw two friends of hers. They were Troy Carson and Colleen Regan. Colleen had been an agent for four years and was twenty-seven. Troy was fairly new and only twenty-four. Erica was responsible for getting Troy assigned to the FBI’s DC Headquarters. The young man had impressed her and Owens when they worked with him on a case the previous autumn in New Hampshire.

  Colleen was married and the mother of two girls. She and Erica went bike riding together on occasion and Erica had been to her house for dinner twice. Colleen and her family also ate at Carlotta’s sometimes.

  Troy had dark hair, blue eyes, and spoke with a Boston accent. Colleen was black, had shoulder-length hair, and was curvy. She had grown up in the Washington, DC area.

  “Are you two working together?” Erica asked them.

  “We were just assigned an embezzlement case concerning a brokerage firm,” Colleen said.

  “That could be interesting. How much was taken?”

  “Petty cash, just several hundred dollars, but there’s also a missing hard drive that contains client information.”

  “What are you and Brad working on, Erica?” Troy asked.

  “She and Brad hit the jackpot again,” Colleen said. “They’re working The Appointment Killer case.”

  Troy’s eyes lit up. “I wish I was on that, and you’re in New York City too.”

  Erica laughed. “You’ll get your shot at bigger cases, and before this, I spent the last few months doing paperwork and conducting interviews in a money-washing scheme. It’s not all excitement all the time for me either.”

  The three friends talked a little longer and Erica and Colleen made plans to get together when time allowed.

  Owens came in a few minutes later and handed Erica a coffee.

  “Thanks, and you’ve read my mind; I was going to suggest that we stop on the way to the airport.”

  “Coffee is always a safe bet with you.”

  “My mother wanted to send you food, but I told her that we were flying out this morning. She said to tell you to visit the restaurant soon with Rhonda, and that it would be on the house.”

  “Your mom spoils me. Tell her I said thanks, and that we’ll take her up on that someday.”

  “How did yesterday go, with the girls meeting Rhonda?”

  Owens grinned. “I was like the odd man out, they took to Rhonda right away, and my ex was civil to her.”

  “She’s very likeable, and I can tell she makes you happy.”

&nb
sp; “She does, and how’s Angel doing?”

  “He’s great, and he works even more than I do. He’s determined to have his own restaurant someday.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with having ambition and a goal,” Owens said.

  They checked in with their supervisor, Chuck McVie, then headed for the airport. As they were jetting toward Manhattan, a drama was unfolding that would impact the case.

  Chapter Eighteen

  TARRYTOWN, NEW YORK, MONDAY, JULY 15th, 9:25 a.m.

  Richard Behan said goodbye to his live-in housekeeper before entering his six-car garage to drive into the city. Behan was fifty-seven and a successful businessman and entrepreneur. His home was impressive and was set on a hill. At night from his balcony, he could see the lights of the city.

  After setting his briefcase on the front passenger seat and laying his suit coat on top of it, Behan climbed into his White Mercedes and put on his seat belt. He owned five cars, but the others were expensive toys that he drove on the weekend, while the silver Mercedes-Benz S-Class Coupe was his everyday vehicle.

  He went through the ritual he did most weekday mornings, as he checked his appearance in the rearview mirror. He had just eaten breakfast and wanted to make certain that there was nothing stuck between his teeth. Behan knew if he brushed before leaving for work that it would solve the problem and help to avoid dental difficulties in the future. He just couldn’t seem to get into the habit and wound up brushing his teeth before going to bed.

  Looking back at him in the mirror was a stern-faced man with salt & pepper hair. Behan had a reputation as being tough in business dealings, and he was the same way in his personal life. When he discovered that his son-in-law had become violent with his only daughter, Behan persuaded her to divorce the man, then went to work ruining his business.

  After pushing the button that would raise the garage door, Behan started the engine and released the emergency brake. He then applied gentle pressure to the accelerator, and that was when everything went wrong.