by Diane Capri
“I will, Amy. I promise. And don’t forget you’re welcome here with us as long as you’d like to stay.”
From the kitchen where she was pouring coffee, Claire said, “I guess you’re giving my bed back to Amy, huh?”
Jordan felt her ears burning and her voice jumped up an octave. “What? No! Of course not!”
Jordan’s dad said, “We love having lots of company.” But he must have noticed Jordan’s mortified expression because he grinned and added, “How about I change my answering machine greeting from ‘Nelson Fox on Wheels’ to ‘You’ve reached Nelson Fox’s hen house?’”
“Not on your life.” Jordan scowled. “I’ve had enough squawking chickens to last three lifetimes.”
“It’s no problem if Amy needs the bed. I’ve got a perfectly good apartment and enough work to keep me occupied.” Claire patted his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek before she joined them at the breakfast table. “You don’t need to treat me like a porcelain doll.”
Jordan opened her mouth to protest, but Claire jumped in ahead. “Sounds like you know something about Ruby Quinn’s murder that you need tell that hot Tampa cop. Better get a move on toward that shower you promised or you’ll be late for work.”
Crap! Jordan glanced at the time displayed on her phone. She glared at Claire and then at her dad, who were both smiling. “You’re right. I’ve got to go. But I’ll be back tonight and then I’ll have two days off to spend with two of my favorite people. All right?”
Her dad flashed a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Claire sipped coffee and said nothing, but Jordan caught the gleam in her eye and felt better about Claire than she had in months.
She dashed toward the shower, calling Clayton Vaughn on the way.
CHAPTER 9
The Plant University clinic was now a crime scene. Which made it off limits until after investigators completed processing. Meaning no chance Jordan would be allowed inside before work today. Instead, she’d asked to meet Clayton at his office.
“We’re a little busy here, Jordan.” On the phone, Clayton had actually sounded preoccupied instead of dismissive. She took that as a good sign. “How can I help you?”
“I saw the Media Alert this morning about the nurse from Plant University. Ruby Quinn.” He didn’t hang up. So far, so good. “I might have information about the crime.”
“You might? Or you do? Which is it?” He covered the phone and she heard muffled conversation with someone else. “I can’t go chasing every clue that every wannabe reporter brings to me.”
Wannabe reporter. The jab stung. She clamped her teeth together before she called him a wannabe cop. It wouldn’t help to insult him at a time like this when she needed a favor.
She scowled. Face it. He was right. He was already a cop and she wasn’t a reporter. Yet. The scowl hung around until a better thought popped into her head. Maybe he was flirting with her again.
So she played the flirty girl game and giggled instead. “I’m on my way over. See you in five.” Good thing he couldn’t see her face because he’d never have bought the act.
She hung up without giving him a chance to reply. A calculated risk. Would he wait five minutes for her? She was betting he would. And if he didn’t? Well, he wasn’t the only cop at Tampa P.D.
The police department was busier on Monday than it had been the day before. Jordan drove around the block twice before she found a parking spot for Hermes farther down Franklin Street. Heavy humidity swallowed her whole the second she stepped out of the car. She dropped a few quarters in the meter. The last thing she needed right now was a zealous meter maid to put a boot on her car.
Jordan slogged back to the cop shop and finally made it to the miniscule cell that Clayton called an office. Elapsed time was closer to ten minutes than the five she’d promised.
He was waiting at his desk with the door open, head turned toward his computer.
A grin stole onto her lips, and she grimaced to get rid of it before he noticed. She knocked on the door frame. He looked up quickly and his eyes widened as if her presence was a total surprise.
“Someday, you’ll actually look at that watch on your wrist, right?” Clayton’s words were tense, but his tone was still flirty.
“You guys inspected the crime scene at the clinic, right?” Jordan sat in one of the metal chairs.
“Naturally, Sherlock. We’re cops. That’s what we do.” He grinned a moment and then his expression became serious. “But back up. Tell me about Ruby Quinn.”
Jordan took a deep breath. “Yeah. I knew her.”
“I’m so sorry,” Clayton said, gently.
“Thank you. I only met her once, but I could tell instantly that Ruby was such a lively soul. Dedicated, too.” Jordan cleared her throat.
She’d been thinking about the murder as a reporter, professionally, as a story. She didn’t want to think about the end of Ruby’s life or the consequences to her family and friends and everyone she’d touched.
“Ruby was a friend of a friend.” Jordan’s chin dropped. She watched her hands, which she’d clasped in her lap. “I only just met her last week. But I’m curious about the case.”
Clayton’s style changed. He folded his hands on the desk and leaned closer. “Tell me you’re not wasting my time, Jordan.”
She cleared her throat and looked directly at him. “I’m working on a news piece about Haiti, and the doctor Ruby worked with is Haitian-American.”
“And the two are connected…how?” He leaned back in his seat watching her with raised eyebrows and a slow nod. Like he could tell she knew something that she wasn’t telling him. Maybe because of their last crime-solving experience when she’d done exactly that.
“Long story.” Jordan didn’t have time to play cat and mouse today. She pulled out her notepad and pen. “The Media Alert your Public Information Officer released said Ruby was killed in the Plant University Health Clinic. But how do you know it was homicide?”
“No other reasonable conclusion, our medical examiner says.” Clayton ticked off a few facts. “She was found this morning by another doctor. Probably killed a few hours before. The body was inside one of the exam rooms. The door was closed and locked from the outside. No unlock on the inside.”
Jordan scribbled furiously. “Why would an exam room door not have a way to unlock from inside?”
“Sometimes they have to lock aggressive or uncontrollable patients inside until security arrives, I’m told.” He shrugged.
“Seems pretty clumsy to lock your murder victim in an exam room, though. Doesn’t it make it pretty obvious then that it’s a murder?”
He shrugged again. “Killers are not all that smart sometimes. Maybe he was in a hurry. Maybe he forgot. There could be a hundred explanations.”
Jordan nodded. “Wait. He? Do you know something I don’t?”
“Assuming it was a guy. I shouldn’t assume, I know. Equal-opportunity cop here, promise.” Clayton raised both of his palms, as if he’d been caught red-handed. “He or she may have been in a hurry.”
“How was Ruby killed?”
“Can’t say. We’re barely into the first forty-eight hours of investigation. We’ve got a lot of work to do still.”
Which meant there was something odd about the method. Jordan nodded. “Violent?”
“Probably not.”
Jordan thought about that a couple of seconds. “What about her phone? Did she have her phone?”
“Her cell phone wasn’t in the room when we got there.”
“Which could mean someone stole it, right?” At least, that was one possibility. It could have been in her purse. Or maybe she laid it down somewhere.
“All right, investigative reporter.” Clayton placed his forearms on the desk and leaned forward. “That’s enough leaked info for one day. This is all off the record, okay? You don’t know any of this until I tell you otherwise.”
“Of course.” Jordan wrote a few more notes, including his reques
t to keep his comments off the record.
“It makes me a little nervous that you claim to understand we’re off the record, yet you’re taking notes. Jordan, please stay out of this. We can’t have a reporter doing police work. Last time you took matters into your own hands you almost got yourself killed.” He paused and flashed her a genuine megawatt ladies’ man smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “I can’t spend all my time rescuing Jordan Fox, you know. And I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said as she closed her notebook and tossed it into her bag. “Hey, are any of her coworkers suspects?” She tried to ask it casually, like the thought had just occurred to her. But her aching shin reminded her of the potential suspect she had in mind.
Clayton laughed. “You know I can’t tell you that Jordan.” He paused and winked. “But the answer is no.”
Jordan had intended to get more facts on her own before she turned anything over to Clayton. But Ruby’s death turned her plan upside down. What was more important than breaking her story first was stopping these guys before they killed again. She had a lead no one else had. Now was the time to deploy it, either way.
CHAPTER 10
“You heard Plant University had to forfeit the soccer game on Saturday because too many members of the team were too sick to play, right?” Jordan took another deep breath and gave Clayton a little prod in what she believed was the right direction. “Ruby was worried about drug overdoses on campus.”
“What kind of overdose?” Now it was Clayton’s turn to pull out a pad and a pen.
“She thought it was something like Adderall, only a stronger, illegal version. A dangerous synthetic drug. It produces a little high, but mainly increases focus and energy, and somehow helps students excel in their course work, too.” Jordan waited as Clayton made notes. When he looked up again, she said, “I think Ruby might have found out something about the drug or the distribution or something that got her killed.”
“Such as?” Clayton waited.
“This has been going on for a while. The whole Tampa medical community is aware of the problem, but no one knows what’s causing the flu-like symptoms for sure.” Jordan shrugged. “It can’t be coincidence that she’s dead the day after the soccer team epidemic.”
“Sure it could be.”
“Nah, there’s a connection. I know it.”
Clayton put his pen down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “We don’t investigate Jordan Fox’s intuition.”
“Look at the timing.” Jordan squared her shoulders and stuck her chin out. She locked her gaze steadily onto his. “Ruby was worried about students getting sick from Super Adderall overdose on Tuesday, the team forfeits on Saturday, and she’s killed on Sunday. That can’t be a coincidence, Clayton.”
He was the first to break visual contact. “Maybe not. But it isn’t much of a lead, either. Got anything else?”
Jordan hesitated. “You willing to tell me how Ruby was killed yet?”
“Can’t.” He shook his head. “What else have you got?”
She took another deep, shaky breath. She’d been back and forth on this a thousand times since Thursday night’s disastrous visit to the Medicine Factory. She had hard evidence in her possession. She’d risked her life to get it. Auntie Marie and maybe Jean Saint Louis had lost their lives for Jordan’s recklessness. If nothing good came of her efforts, well, she couldn’t even let her thoughts go in that direction.
“Off the record?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
The only thing that was holding Jordan back was not knowing whom to trust. She’d been just that close to telling Dr. Ross the whole truth on the plane yesterday, but she’d held back from showing her the orange tablets. She’d only told Dr. Ross half the truth.
“I don’t have all day, Jordan.” He rapid-tapped his pen on the desk.
And what about Ruby? If she’d given the evidence to Dr. Ross, Ruby might be alive right now. Jordan could help bring Ruby’s killer to justice, which felt like so very little help at the moment.
“Anything else I need to know? Otherwise, my boss is waiting for my call. You know these first forty-eight hours are crucial if we’re going to find Ruby’s killer. We’ve got to get it done.” His pen tapping speed increased as if he expected that to move her along.
She trusted Clayton. He’d helped her before. She didn’t have anyone else to turn to. She hoped she was doing the right thing. Oh, for cripes sake! Spit it out, already!
“Ruby had a patient on Tuesday night who was taken by ambulance to Tampa Southern. I don’t know who he was, but he’s related to all of this somehow, too.” Jordan took another deep breath and before she could talk herself out of it again, she blurted, “I think Ruby was poisoned. The toxicology report will show an overdose of the drug that made Ruby’s patient and the soccer players sick.”
“Poisoned?” His eyes widened.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue containing two of the orange tablets she’d grabbed at the Sabatier Medicine Factory. She placed the tissue on the desk and opened it. “I think the poison was this stuff.”
“Where’d you get those?” He stared at the tablets, but he didn’t touch them. His forehead wrinkled into another scowl. “What are they, anyway?”
“I think they are Super Adderall. I’ll tell you where I got them when you confirm my theory.” She winked to distract him from asking more questions she wouldn’t answer, but her heart wasn’t in the flirting.
“Oh come on.” He pouted a little and he didn’t seem like his heart was in it either when he said, “The wink is my closing line.”
“I’ve got to get to work.” She stood and grabbed her bag. “Check out that patient. And call me when you know for sure whether an overdose of those pills caused Ruby’s death. Then, if I’m right, I’ll tell you the rest.”
Jordan stopped and looked back from the open doorway. “And Clayton?”
“Yes?”
“Please find out as fast as you can. We don’t have a lot of time to stop these guys.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He scowled at her before he picked up the phone.
She ducked out while he was calling his boss.
As she was walking to her car, her phone rang. It was Patricia. Jordan groaned. What did I do wrong now? “This is Jordan Fox.”
“Hey, Dr. Peter Wren stopped by looking for you,” Patricia said.
Jordan nearly dropped the phone. “Who?” She’d only met the guy once and he hadn’t been pleasant. The second encounter she’d had was with his armed guards and the damage to her shin throbbed afresh simply hearing his name.
Patricia replied, “Dominique Wren’s father. He said to call him about your Instant Pop Star feature.”
What feature? Dominique had skipped the audition. She wasn’t a contestant. Dr. Peter Wren was responsible for tanking that story and a big segment of the hard work she’d done in Haiti. But she didn’t want to tell Patricia that chunk of bad news just yet. “Did he say what he wanted?”
Patricia’s tone sounded more than a little like gloating when she said, “He didn’t look happy.”
CHAPTER 11
Jordan detoured to drive past the Plant University clinic on her way to work. She didn’t have enough time to go inside, even if the crime scene had been cleared, which it probably wasn’t. But she wanted a closer look at the place in the daylight.
From the road, she saw the clinic’s parking lot was still blocked off by squad cars. Yellow crime scene tape marked a line past which only investigators were permitted. She didn’t see any news trucks or reporters. They’d probably already completed their initial breaking-news reports and there wasn’t much to cover now while the tedious work of gathering evidence and processing the scene continued.
Only one of the vehicles she’d noticed on the weather cam before she left work last night was still in the lot. The white SUV. Was that Ruby’s vehicle? She made a mental note to find out.
Too many people connected with Dr. Peter Wren seemed to end up dead. The ones Jordan knew about were his wife, probably Saint Louis, and now Ruby Quinn. Maybe there were more. Either way, she didn’t want to be alone in a shadowy parking garage with the guy.
Jordan kept glancing over her shoulder as the security guard walked her to the building.
“You all right?” the security guard asked.
“I think so. Just feeling a little jumpy, you know.”
“That’s what we’re here for.” He walked her all the way up to the second floor newsroom.
She was probably safe now. Anyone entering the building had to go through multiple levels of security and badge access points.
Unless Peter Wren was already inside the building.
Knock it off, Jordan.
Right. She was safe.
As long as she didn’t leave the building, she’d be fine.
Jordan had a full workday today to compile the Instant Pop Star and Haiti pieces.
On the way through the newsroom, she almost bumped into Drew Hodges. He put a steadying hand on her arm.
“Hang on there, intrepid intern.” His perfect smile and perfect teeth perfectly complimented his perfect tan. “Aren’t you joining us for the dreaded daily hazing?”
Drew was really too charming for his own good. And he was definitely too charming for hers. If Drew were a nasty curmudgeon, maybe Patricia wouldn’t be so heavily invested in his success and trying to ruin Jordan all the time.
“I’m excused from the Afternoon Meeting. Too much work to do.” She grimaced a bit, as if her work and her trip to Haiti wasn’t a thousand times better than anything he might be assigned for this shift. “I won’t be leaving the building today, unfortunately.”