“I don’t see her as being altruistic,” Kyle bit out. “More like fuckin’ scared.”
“It’s hard to imagine a bitch like her willing to go to jail without rolling over on anybody else,” Carter added.
“That’s why I say she was fuckin’ scared. Somebody higher up. Somebody with power.”
“We went through her phone log, emails, and social media with a fine-toothed comb. Nothing.”
Scrubbing his hand over his chin, Kyle said, “Instead of looking at the who, how about looking at the why?” Seeing he had everyone’s attention, he explained. “Beth Washington didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who wanted to go to prison. Hell, she looked like the kind of woman who wouldn’t be able to function if her fingernail polish didn’t match her lipstick.”
Alex grunted, and Kyle knew his partner agreed. “So, maybe, instead of hunting for a needle in a haystack of who was jerking her chain, the question would be why. What could make her so afraid that she’d be willing to risk prison?”
“A payoff? Is she protected? Is someone making sure she remains quiet?” Carter asked.
Captain Hollister lifted his eyebrow. “If she wouldn’t divulge anything beforehand, what makes you think she will now?”
“I doubt she will, but I’d like to try,” Kyle said.
“Have we got anything else on Kilton Pharmaceuticals?”
Kyle shot a look toward the others at the table and shook his head. “Nothing. Not yet. But there’s no way Beth Washington or Dr. Tiller came up with this scheme by themselves.”
Captain Hollister nodded. “Okay, Kyle and Alex, keep digging. Follow anything that even looks like opioids, legal or not, that ties back into Kilton.” Turning his attention to the other cases, Kyle let Carter and Evan take over. His mind was settled firmly on finally being able to come face-to-face with the ones who put his sister in danger.
Making arrangements to visit the women’s prison the next day, he tossed a wave toward Alex as he left the station, eager to get to the Celtic Cock. It was too early for the evening crowd to have gathered and, without a local game being televised, the bar would be emptier than the previous evening. Catching the eye of Torin, he headed straight to the bar.
Hefting up on a seat, he ordered a beer and waved as Maeve came in from the back. Torin and Maeve Flanagan’s grandfather had opened the Celtic Cock many years ago. The popular pub was located in the downtown area near the Briar Hill precinct. Centrally located among several of the fire stations, it had become the watering hole for many first responders since its inception.
Torin was large, muscular, with his arms covered in tattoo sleeves, and it wasn’t hard to imagine he started out as a bouncer for his grandfather.
Taking a pull from his beer, he tried to think of a less revealing way to ask about Kimberly. Oh, fuck it. “Look, man, I need to ask you something. Do you remember the girl I was sitting with last night? We were down at the other end and you served her white wine.”
Leaning his thick forearms onto the bar, Torin held his gaze. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”
“No.”
“We were packed last night.”
“You always keep an eye on this place. Man, you brag that you know who’s in your bar.”
“Yeah, usually. But on a night like last night, the only reason we weren’t shut down by the fire department for being over the legal limit of customers was because half the fire department was in here watching the fuckin’ game. I couldn’t tell you who was in here.” He stood straight and crossed his arms over his chest, his brow lowered. “Actually, that’s not true. I saw your sister and Bekki King sitting over on the side at one time. I don’t think they stayed long, though. Other than that, it was the usual crowd plus a fuck ton more.”
“So, you don’t remember seeing her at all?”
“Shit, Kyle. I remember you yelled for a house white and seeing a blonde sitting on the stool next to you. But her back was to me, and I figured if you were buying her a drink, she was old enough to be in my bar.”
Shoulders slumping, he drummed his fingers on the top of the bar and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks anyway.”
Torin leaned against the back counter, his lips quirking, and Kyle groaned.
Laughing, Torin tossed the dishrag over his shoulder and stalked away. “I’ll let you cry in your beer alone, man.”
He stayed for another hour, greeting some of his friends that came in, his gaze continually scanning the bar, but Kimberly never showed. The niggle of doubt crept through his mind and he wondered if she was avoiding him. Jesus, get a grip. It was just last night. But as he walked to his truck, the question of whether she had thought of him since leaving that morning stayed with him.
For the entire two-hour drive to the women’s prison holding Beth Washington, Kyle kept up a running dialog with Alex… anything to keep from thinking of the woman they were interviewing.
“How’s your sister?”
“Hannah’s great. She’s a Police Chief in a tiny-ass town on the Eastern Shore of Virginia.”
Shaking his head, Kyle asked, “How’s your dad taking that?”
“Oh, you know dad. He thinks she lost her mind when she turned down a position with the FBI to move to a no-wheres-ville place.”
“What do you think?”
“Personally, I think my sister’s the shit, man. She’s smart, not afraid to go for her own dreams, and I’m fuckin’ proud of her. I just hope dad eventually sees the same.”
Kyle pulled into the lot of the prison. After parking, he stared out the windshield, his hands still clamped onto the steering wheel. The brick buildings sat behind a wide yard of green grass. It could have been mistaken for a small college campus if it weren’t for the tall, barbed-wire-topped fence surrounding the entire area and the guard gate at the entrance.
Inside was the woman who’d held a gun to his sister’s head. It was his choice to come to see her, but it wasn’t until his gaze landed on her incarceration facility did the punch to the gut hit him.
Grateful Alex sat quietly, giving him a moment to clear his head, he finally unclenched his hands. “Let’s go.”
“You got this?”
“I got this.”
After passing through the prison’s security checkpoints, they were escorted down a long hall. An initial antiseptic smell hit, followed by the assault of stale air from an area with lots of bodies and no windows. What struck him most was the color of the cinder block walls… pale purple.
Alex caught his eye and mouthed ‘Purple?’, and he shrugged his shoulders in response. The guard escorting them down the hall must have caught the exchange and grinned.
“The color of the walls used to be yellow. Then someone read that yellow was an energetic color, and the last warden said that blues and purples were calming.” The woman snorted and added, “Can’t say I’ve seen a decrease in irritating behavior even if we do have lilac-shit walls.”
Appreciating her candor, he kept his thoughts to himself but grinned, and a little tension slid from his shoulders. Reaching a series of doors, the guard threw one open. “You can use this interview room. Ms. Washington will be escorted here in just a few minutes.”
Stepping inside the room, he noted the utilitarian interior. Grey metal table bolted to the floor. Grey plastic chairs. Bare walls except for a list of rules, the corners of the tacked poster curling and frayed. The walls were painted light grey… guess they don’t care if the prisoners are calm in here. Kyle shook his head but remained quiet. As far as he was concerned, whatever the prison officials felt they needed to do to keep the prisoners in check was up to them. Settling into a seat, he placed his forearms on the top of the cool metal of the table and clenched his hands once again. It did not escape his notice that the purple had had no calming effect on him.
Beth Washington had pleaded guilty, insisting to the end that the drug scheme was nothing more than something she and Dr. Tiller cooked up between them. The last time he had seen her this close in p
erson, she’d been standing in the hall of the homeless shelter Tara worked in, holding a gun to his sister’s head. Sucking in a ragged breath, he let it out slowly, catching Alex watching him carefully. “I’m okay.”
“You sure? Cause as much as she deserves it, I don’t want to have to haul you outta here for kicking her ass.”
Chuckling, he shook his head, then sobered quickly as the door opened. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the Beth Washington he observed now was greatly different from the high-heeled, tight skirt, perfectly made-up and coiffed woman of months ago. But she still appeared more put-together than most of the women he’d seen in the prison. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail but clean. Her lips had a slight pink sheen as well as her cheeks. Uncertain if makeup was allowed, she obviously had access to some. Her outfit was the most striking difference to her former life… similar to nursing scrubs, only orange.
Her gaze darted between the two men and she hesitated before moving to the chair on the other side of the table and sat. Kyle could feel her anxiety zapping about the room, but she appeared composed.
“I’m Detective Alex Freeman, and this is Detective Kyle McBride. We’re with the Hope City Police Department.”
Kyle kept his eyes on her, but she gave no indication she knew him. Since his sister was using her married name at that time, he doubted she made the connection between Tara and himself. Her gaze moved between the two men, but she remained quiet.
“When you worked for Kilton Pharmaceuticals, you must’ve known everything there was to know about the drugs they produced.” Kyle knew he’d caught her off-guard when her brows lowered and she was not able to hide her surprise.
“That’s hardly a secret,” she replied. “I had to learn about almost all the drugs. I was the liaison between the manufacturer and the doctors.”
“More like a distributor, wouldn’t you say?”
“Everything I had to say, I’ve already said—”
“You had a condo overlooking the Inner Harbor that, according to the real estate listing, was stunning, exclusive, one-of-a-kind—”
“So what? What’s your point, Detective?”
“What’s it like in here?”
Her brows lowered again, his question obviously not what she was expecting. “Why do you want to know?”
“I guess I want to know if it’s what you expected.”
She opened her mouth and then snapped it closed, her jaw tight as she clasped her hands together on top of the table. She remained quiet for a moment, then looked up and held his gaze. “I can’t imagine that I have anything to tell you that you don’t already assume. No privacy. No autonomy. No friends. No freedom.”
“So, why didn’t you fight this? Why weren’t you willing to make a deal for a lesser sentence? Why were you so willing to give up everything you worked for? Everything you risked?”
Her back stiffened and her eyes narrowed as she sneered. “You’re going over a well-trod path, Detective. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Dr. Tiller and I came up with the scheme to distribute the drugs—”
“Bullshit. That’s complete bullshit and you know it.”
She opened her mouth again, but Kyle jumped in. “You might as well know, we’re digging. We’re going to keep digging until we find out where the trail at Kilton Pharmaceuticals leads to. You can help with that or keep sitting in here doing your full time, but we’re not giving up.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then shook her head slightly and huffed. “That’s a foolish endeavor, Detective.”
“Might be, but you could make the process faster.”
“Not going to happen.”
Alex jumped in. “Because you’re afraid. You’re so afraid of whoever’s calling the shots that you’re willing to sit in prison.”
“But you gotta figure, somebody’s got their eye on you,” Kyle added. Her nose flared, and he zoned in on the minute sign of stress. “And it’s not going to be a secret that we came to talk to you.” He waited to see how long it would take before the import of his words hit her. Not fuckin’ long at all.
She sucked in a quick breath and leaned forward. “You’re using me,” she hissed. “One way or the other, you’ll make it look like I talked.”
“Still got nothin’ to say?”
Leaning back, she pinched her lips tightly together. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
Kyle and Alex nodded and stood at the same time. Her gaze jumped between the two men, a questioning crease now marring her brow.
“That’s it? I can’t believe you came all this way just to try to mess with me.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should be flattered with the attention.”
Leaning forward, he placed his fists on the table. He felt Alex shift slightly, but his partner had no worries. “Nah, don’t be flattered. You see, this is personal. The woman you held hostage… that was my sister.” Beth’s quick intake of breath echoed in the small room. Grinning, Kyle stood to his full height. “One way or the other, I’m not gonna stop digging. And when I get them, whatever protection you’ve got here will be gone.”
Opening the door, he and Alex stalked out, nodding to the guard that they were finished. Walking back down the hall, the guard jerked her head in the direction they just left. “Don’t know how, but that woman seems to always have money for the extras. Prison salon does her dye jobs. Laundry always has her uniform pressed. And protection? She’s not touched by the others.” As they reached the security checkpoint, she shrugged. “She’s quiet and not a problem, so I don’t care where her money comes from. Just thought you might like to know.”
Neither man spoke until they had completed the checkout procedures and were once more inside Kyle’s truck. Letting out a long-held breath, he leaned back in the seat. “So, someone is taking care of her. Someone who is paying her to be quiet.”
“Could be.” Alex looked his way as Kyle started his SUV. “Feel better seeing her in prison?”
Snorting, he shook his head at Alex’s attempt at a joke. “I know you were worried about me going ape shit on her, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she let something slip.”
Alex chuckled. “I wasn’t sure you caught that. I thought you might have been too interested in getting your digs into her.”
“You know me better than that. But when she said that one way or the other we’ll make it look like she talked, she was admitting that there was somebody out there that would care. And that person is who we want.”
6
Sitting outside Helen Slater’s office, Kimberly ran her hand over her skirt, both to smooth out the wrinkles and to wipe her palm so that she would not greet the Sales Supervisor with a wet handshake.
She had spent the past day planning her assignment with John and was giddy with excitement over the change. She had talked to Bekki the previous evening, picking her friend’s brain for the right journalistic angle for her questions.
It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell Bekki about how her Celtic Cock evening progressed, but she’d hesitated. If it had just been all fun and games, she probably would have. Bekki would have been thrilled that her dry streak had ended. But, while there was no chance her heart was involved with Kyle, it didn’t seem right to joke about it. After all, the best sex of my life is no joking matter. Especially since it’ll never happen again.
“Ms. Hogan? Ms. Slater will see you now.”
Lost in thought, she startled as the assistant waved her hand toward the office door. Leaping to her feet, she smiled. “Thank you.” Wearing heels, she focused her attention on not tripping on the carpet. It was not as lush as Sally Gleason’s office, certainly more utilitarian. Stepping inside the office, she smiled as Helen stood from behind her desk and approached her. Shaking hands, she settled in the seat proffered.
Up close, Helen was older than Kimberly initially thought. Closer to fifty than forty, her white-blonde hair was styled in a severe, chin-length bob.
&nb
sp; Uncertain how she should begin, she was gratified when Helen took charge. “Sally and I have discussed this assignment, and I’m quite excited to have you cast the Sales Department in a better light. I see no reason to beat around the bush, Kimberly, so I’ll be frank. When Beth Washington, who had been one of my most prolific sales representatives, was arrested and admitted to stealing drugs that she delivered to a free clinic’s doctor who was selling them on the black market… well, I was shocked.” Shaking her head slightly, she said, “Actually, the word shock is hardly severe enough. I was angry. Angry at her theft. Angry at her motives. Angry that I had misjudged her. And, to be honest, angry that my department took the brunt of the brutal media and had the job of cleaning up after her.”
Uncertain what to say to that lengthy declaration, Kimberly nodded rapidly. “I can understand those feelings, Ms. Slater. I’m sure that was a difficult time for you.”
“It’s still difficult! Here at work, I try to present a positive attitude, but I’m still not sure when this is going to end!” Blinking suddenly, she rushed, “Don’t write that down. That’s off the record.” An air of anxiety flew about the room as rapidly as her words.
“Oh, Ms. Slater, um… don’t worry. I’ll have questions for you that you can answer, and I’ll write up my information based on that. After all, this isn’t an exposé.”
“Of course, of course. I’m sorry.” Helen lifted her hand and smoothed her fingers over her hair. “As you can see, this entire ordeal has taken its toll on me and my department.”
“Yes, well, Ms. Slater, I thought to start off with, I’d let you give me an idea of what sales representatives actually do for Kilton Pharmaceuticals.”
Helen’s shoulders relaxed and her lips curved slightly. “In a nutshell, a pharmaceutical representative’s job is to educate physicians about the different drugs in our rapidly-changing industry. As you can imagine, new drugs are coming out all the time and, like with any industry, there is competition among the various producers of these drugs. But, unlike other industries where the product is innocuous, we have a great responsibility to make sure that our products are being purchased and used correctly.”
Kyle (Hope City Book 4) Page 5