by Ciana Stone
* * * * *
Reedy Creek Park
“Why did you want to meet here?” Konnor asked as he took a seat on the park bench beside Shen.
“There is little privacy in your home at this time.”
Konnor didn’t bother to ask who Shen referred to or how he knew. “Why did you ask me to come?” he asked instead.
“It seems that new players may have entered the game.”
Konnor couldn’t hide his surprise. “New players? Who are they working for?”
“That remains to be seen.”
Konnor waited for Shen to elaborate. “And?” he asked when Shen said nothing more.
“The game of life is much like the Western game of chess. One mind directs all the pieces on the board in a united strategy. The essential difference between the game and life is that in life, often the pieces being manipulated are operating under the delusion that they are acting in the role of manipulator instead of manipulated. Their greed for power, riches and glory blind them to the fact that there is someone other than themselves moving them in the direction they think they choose to go.”
Konnor knew there was a message buried in the words and so he gave it thought. Shen sat relaxed and seemingly at ease, his face turned up to the washed-out winter sky, as if basking in a warm spring day.
“So, we’re dealing with another player who thinks he’s pulling the strings,” Konnor said. “Like Slater.”
Shen chuckled. “Slater likes to consider himself a master manipulator, hiding in the shadows, playing his games of intrigue.”
“Are you telling me that we shouldn’t consider him a major player?”
Shen turned to look at him. “He should not be discounted. He has many resources and is a clever and cunning man. He makes an excellent implement. Maintain your relationship with him for the time being. As long as he believes he is in control, he is controllable. We may have need of him.”
“And our opponent?” Konnor couldn’t call their adversary by name because he didn’t know it. While Shen had taught him many things, he had never divulged either the name of their rival or the prize for which they were in competition.
“His moves are those of the viper. Silent, swift and deadly. We must be vigilant and circumspect so as to mislead him with well-placed truths hidden between credible lies.”
Konnor nodded and started to stand but Shen put his hand out and stopped him. “There is more.”
Konnor sat down again to listen as Shen spoke. Within moment a dark scowl had taken hold of his face. When Shen finished, Konnor rose and gave him a brief bow before hurrying to his car.
* * * * *
Southpark Mall—Charlotte
Senna parked her car in the lot under the mall and walked to the glassed entrance. She had only been standing there a few moments when a dark sedan pulled up to the curb.
“Dr. Laserian?” an older man, nearly bald, wearing a brown tweed jacket, asked as he rolled down the car window.
She gave him a suspicious look. “Your father’s favorite dessert was strawberries dipped in chocolate on vanilla wafers, but he always told everyone it was peach sorbet because your mother teased him about it,” the man said.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she slid into the car beside the man. “Where’s Harlan?” she asked.
“Nearby,” he said as they pulled away. “He was hesitant to come himself as there have been several disturbing incidents of late.”
“What kind of disturbances?”
“It would be best if he told you himself.”
She nodded and looked around as they left the mall parking lot. “You didn’t tell me your name,” she commented.
“Oh, my. How rude. Please forgive me. All this cloak and dagger business seems to have me addled. Emory Ashbrook at your service.”
“Emory Ashbrook? I don’t think I’ve ever heard Harlan mention you.”
“Is that so?” He smiled and said no more.
“So you and Harlan are old friends?” she asked as he turned off the main thoroughfare.
“Oh, yes. For a great many years. As a matter of fact, I was quite close to your father.”
That surprised her even more. “Really? I don’t remember him ever mentioning you.”
“Perhaps because I’m a relatively boring chap,” he chuckled. “Now, here we are.”
They turned into the drive of an expensive hotel that specialized in suites to accommodate visiting executives. He parked and Senna followed him to the door of one of the suites. He unlocked it and stepped aside for her to precede him.
She stepped past him and stopped just inside the door. The room was empty. The door closed behind her. She started to turn and ask where Harlan was, but before she could, she felt a sharp prick at the base of her neck. Then everything went black.
* * * * *
Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department
“Dalton!” someone shouted from the squad room, making Ryan look up from the stack of paper on his desk. “Captain wants to see you in his office. Where’s Landers?”
“Late,” Ryan said as he headed for the captain’s office. “You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked as he walked through the open door of Captain Prichard’s office.
“Got another one,” Prichard announced, shoving a piece of paper across the desk at him. “Male, age sixty-two, registered under the name of Benjamin Harlan. Take Landers and get over there.”
“Yes, sir.” Ryan didn’t mention that Paige was not in yet.
“Dalton!” Prichard called as Ryan was leaving.
“Sir?”
“Have you made any progress locating Southgate?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“Well, stay with it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ryan returned to his desk and called Paige’s home phone. When her voice mail answered, he hung up and called her cell phone. He got no answer. “Damn!” He couldn’t wait around for her to show up. He had to get over to the scene.
He grabbed his jacket and went down the hall to the elevator. For once, he didn’t have to wait on it. It opened just as he reached it. When the doors opened again to let him out in the basement parking lot, Paige was waiting.
“Come on.” He swept by her.
“What’s up?”
“Another murder.”
She hurried along beside him and slid into the passenger seat. “Where’ve you been?” Ryan asked as he started the car.
“Running down a lead.” She pulled a notepad from her purse. “Did you know that Doctor Dud’s uncle was some sort of mad scientist?”
“What?” Ryan cut her a look.
“It’s true! Seems like he was some kind of genius or something. He went into medical research and supposedly was killed while on some expedition in South America.”
“Supposedly?”
“Yeah, no body was ever recovered. They found what they thought were his remains, but the hands, feet and head were missing.
Ryan grimaced at the image that conjured. “What happened to him?”
“The official story is that he was whacked by a group of natives who were pissed about him poking around in their jungle.”
“And the unofficial?”
“That’s just it. There is no unofficial. In fact, there’s no one alive who was with him on that expedition. The ones who survived died under mysterious circumstance within weeks of returning home.
“So?”
“So, it’s just like her father. He dies, or supposedly dies, and not only is no body ever found, but everyone associated with his work at the time is either killed at the same time or dies under mysterious circumstances within days of getting home.”
“And your point is?”
“That this whole fucking family is a walking curse! Everyone who gets involved with them ends up dead.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well, you would.”
Ryan didn’t bot
her to argue. He could see no reason for Paige wasting time digging up dirt on Senna’s family. It wasn’t relevant to the cases they were working.
There were a number of police and crime lab vehicles on the scene when they arrived. Ryan steeled himself for what they would find when they entered the hotel suite. Even so, his stomach lurched when he got his first look at the victim.
The man was lying on his back, his legs crossed at the ankles, as if in repose. His arms were bent and his hands positioned at waist level, holding his severed head. An expression of pain and shock was frozen on the corpse’s face. Like the two previous murders, the victim had multiple cuts on his body and one of his index fingers had been severed and stuck behind his right ear like a pencil. There was a blood inscribed note rolled up loosely and inserted between the victim’s parted lips.
Ryan went over to the medical examiner. “Any idea on the time of death?”
“I’d guess he’s been dead close to twenty-four hours. We’ll know more after the autopsy.”
Ryan nodded and wandered over to a couple of the technicians who were off to the side, arguing quietly.
“What’s up, guys?” he asked.
“This room’s been cleaned,” one of them, a middle-aged man named Raymond, declared.
“No way,” his partner, a younger man by the name of Joe argued.
“I’m telling you it’s been cleaned,” Raymond insisted. “Look at this.” He held up a plastic evidence bag in front of Ryan’s face. “I just vacuumed the bathroom and this is what I got.”
“What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?” Ryan asked. As far as he could tell the bag was empty.
“That’s my point! If this room hasn’t been cleaned by the hotel since yesterday morning then there should be something in this bag—hair, dust, fibers…something.”
“I see what you mean,” Ryan said thoughtfully and left the two men to their argument.
When he finished all he had to do, he went to his car. Paige was waiting for him.
“Well?” she asked as she got in the car.
“Looks like someone else got there before us.”
“Huh? You want to run that by me again?”
“In a sec.” Ryan turned out of the parking lot and reached for his phone. He dialed Senna’s number. Her voice mail answered so he hung up. He considered calling her at Konnor’s but decided against it.
“Okay.” He gave Paige his full attention. “This is what the lab techs say…”
* * * * *
Jackson Township
Konnor was pacing the floor when the phone rang. He snatched it up before it completed the first ring. “Yeah?”
“I think we may have a lead.” Slater sounded like he hadn’t slept either.
Konnor was already reaching for his jacket. He had only been home an hour and had done nothing but pace the floor and try to come up with an idea of what to do. Since Senna’s disappearance, there had been no leads on what had happened to her.
He had been all over the city, gone through her address book, and called everyone she knew, and no one had seen or spoken with her. If it were not for Shen’s assurance that their adversary didn’t have her, he’d think it was hopeless. He hadn’t realized until she vanished just how deep his feelings for her were. The fear that something had happened to her filled him with rage and despair.
“Where are you?” Konnor asked on his way through the house.
“A mile from your house. Put on some coffee.”
Konnor set the phone on the kitchen counter, peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of one of the barstools. By the time a thin stream of coffee was filling the coffee decanter in the machine, he heard a car coming down the driveway.
He unlocked the door then turned and took two cups from the cabinet. Slater didn’t bother to knock. Two men followed him inside. Konnor glanced at them but didn’t comment. He just took two more cups from the cabinet.
“Well?” he asked Slater.
“Caffeine first.” Slater took a seat at the end of the bar and lit a cigarette.
“Answers,” Konnor demanded.
“I’m not in the mood for your—”
Slater never got a chance to finish his sentence. Before he or either of his men could react, Konnor had Slater by the throat. “Neither am I.”
Slater had time to wheeze once before the first man rushed Konnor. Without easing his grip on Slater’s throat, Konnor delivered a back-kick that lifted the man up and drove him across the kitchen and into the counter.
“Back off, Del,” Konnor warned the second man who started to make a move, keeping his eyes pinned on Slater.
“Let him go.” Del warily approached. “I mean it, Chase. Don’t make me draw on you.”
A harsh bark of a laugh was all the reply Konnor gave. Del reached into his jacket but never got to his fun. With his hand firmly around Slater’s neck, Konnor twisted and kicked. His move pulled Slater across the bar, flailing and gasping for air. Del rose up off the floor as Konnor’s foot met his abdomen. A moment later Del crashed into the wall.
“Okay, enough!” Rick, the first man Konnor had downed, yelled as he got to his feet with his weapon leveled at Konnor’s head.
Konnor hesitated. He was mad enough to take on all of them and to hell with the consequences. But that would do nothing for Senna. Reluctantly, he released Slater. Rick lowered his weapon and crossed the room to help Del to his feet.
“You fucking psycho,” Slater rasped and rubbed his neck, then laughed. “Goddamn, if I don’t love it when you get pissed, Chase. No one goes ballistic the way you do. Sometimes it’s worth the risk just to watch.”
Konnor turned away. He knew Slater too well to fall for his act. Whenever anyone got the best of Slater, he tried to make it appear as if he had intended for it to go down that way. As if everything that happened was all part of some test he was personally conducting just to see how far he could push people. Sometimes Konnor wondered if Slater was not certifiably insane.
“Now that we have that out of the way, can I get a cup of coffee?” Slater asked.
Konnor put the cups on the bar then grabbed the coffee and poured. “Take yours outside,” Slater said to Del and Rick. “Chase and I need a few minutes alone.”
Neither man argued. They left the house. Slater sampled the coffee and grimaced. “You make one shitty cup of coffee, Chase.”
“What’ve you got?” Konnor ignored the insult.
“Does the name Harlan Pierce-Warner ring a bell?”
“The man who found Senna on his doorstep when she resurfaced.”
Slated nodded. “By now it’s old news that he isn’t among the living anymore.”
Konnor swung one leg over the back of a stool to sit. “Details?”
“We don’t have much. We discovered his name on an airline manifest—well to be correct we found his pseudonym, Benjamin Harlan. Seems like he wrote a couple of science-fiction books some years ago under a pen name. When we made the connection we started checking hotels and found him registered. I sent men over to check it out and they reported that he was dead.”
“Dead as in dropped over with a coronary or dead as in murdered?”
“The latter. In the same manner as the other two. The body was arranged on the bed when my men got there and there was another note.”
Konnor didn’t think Slater’s men would have reported the murder to the local police. Slater wasn’t concerned with such things. Instead, he would have already had someone go over the scene with a fine-tooth comb. “Any evidence she was there?” he asked.
A nod confirmed Konnor’s fear. “Just inside the door we found a hair with enough follicle to run a comparison and it matched.”
“Any idea when she was there or for how long?”
“None. All we know is that another man was apparently staying with Pierce-Warner. We found two teacups and we’re running the prints now, but so far all we have is that both sets of prints are from males.”
Konnor stood and paced across the floor. “It doesn’t make sense. Why kill him? He’s not a physicist and—”
“But he did have a close relationship with Senna Laserian and her family,” Slater interrupted. “Chase, between you and me, I’m beginning to think there are more people in on this thing than we thought. The question is, who are they and do they know something we don’t?”
“Obviously,” Konnor replied. “But right now I think our primary objective is finding…Dr. Laserian.”
Slater smiled coyly at Konnor’s near slip, but nodded. “We’re checking every airline, train, bus, rental car agency and hotel in a two hundred mile radius, as well as running all her credit and debit cards. We’ll find her.”
He swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood. “I’ll keep you posted and I expect you to do the same. If she turns up notify me immediately.”
Konnor nodded. As soon as Slater left the house he turned off the coffeepot and sat down at the bar, staring across the room. There had to be some clue, something he was overlooking that would indicate where she’d gone. He reran the events of the previous few days in his mind.
“Damn!” He jumped up and grabbed his jacket. He should have thought of it before. She had to be looking for clues on the Laserian data and Minora was the only person who might have an idea where Senna would go to look.
Chapter Ten
Light from the window stabbed her eyes when she opened them. She almost acted on her first impulse, which was to groan and close her eyes again. But thoughts of her last conscious moments, the pain in her neck and the unfamiliar man who had introduced himself as Emory Ashbrook, had her bolting up from the bed.
Senna had no idea where she was. The view from the window indicated she was beside a golf course. The window was not locked and neither was the door. That made her feel a little better. At least she wasn’t trapped in the room.