“What's wrong?” she asked and damn him if there wasn't a smirk to those words. Like she knew the hold she had over him. Like she had that hold over everyone.
“Nothing.” As he kissed her everything melted away. Maybe it was the same for her. Maybe this was the best thing he could do for them both. And maybe it was just another regret in the making. Whatever, he didn't care anymore. Another set of lips was pressing against his and for that moment all the hurt was gone.
37
The sea of pedestrians naturally parted for John, as though his magnetic negativity repelled them. And, despite their inclination to move away, none of them ever really noticed him. He was like a moving abyss, giving off a subconscious warning of the darkness within him. When Rachel walked alongside him she felt just about as dangerous as he was. And she liked it too.
As they neared the hospital she reached for his hand, wondering if he felt any more demigod-like when she took charge. It used to take a lot of effort and concentration to make them both invisible, but now it was nothing at all. They walked towards the hospital, unseen but still avoided. And, as she tried to conceal her own self-satisfaction, she noticed John wasn't even trying. They did this a lot, pushing the boundaries of what they could do together, and they both got a kick out of it.
“So are you still mad with Charlie?”
“I'm not mad,” John replied far too quickly.
“Yeah and I'm not sick of this godforsaken city. Spill it, what's wrong?”
The hesitation was barely there – he knew better than to withhold information from her. “The woman.”
“You don't like her?”
“I don't like him with her. Charlie loses his head with women. When he met Sarah he went fucking nuts. He gets infatuated, distracted, and stupid.”
“Stupid?”
“Stupider. You'll see. He makes stupid decisions.”
“But Sarah was the love of his life. You liked her.”
He shrugged, trying to be indifferent and failing. “Sarah was good for him, but he was still crazy. He loses his common sense and then we all end up in the shit.”
They were nearing the hospital.
“Well we'll be out of here in a couple of days and he probably won't even remember her. Hey, if we find what we're looking for on Dr Curtis' computer, is he going to know it's me?” she asked.
John stopped walking and like an explosion of energy the people around him branched out into a circle. Oblivious or uncaring, he ignored them and gave Rachel a look he usually reserved for Charlie.
“Fucking hell! Not you too!”
Rachel continued walking, she wasn't about to get caught in a staring match with John. He had eyes that rivalled a gorgon, she'd never win.
“No, not me too asshole,” she grumbled. “But I like the guy and…”
“You like the guy?”
“Not like that. Jesus, I am not Charlie. Jan is a decent guy, but I don't want to jump into bed with him. I just want to know if he's going to know it was me.”
Charlie played the parental older brother. He liked to teach her things, make the rules and generally take charge. But it was John who struggled with the idea of her with anyone. He didn't like the thought of her changing and, when she thought about it, she didn't like it either. She'd spent four years with Mark – a prisoner in that relationship – the last thing she wanted was to embark on another foolhardy romance.
They reached the hospital entrance when he stopped her. “If it plays right he won't know,” he conceded.
She smiled. “Are you ready for this?”
He looked at the hospital and his face greyed somewhat. With a reluctant nod he allowed her to hold the door open and, surreptitiously, he followed her onto the ward and into Roxy's room.
“What the bloody hell is he doing here?” Roxy spat with more venom than she felt John deserved.
“He came for the spoils,” Rachel explained, while she checked the medicom. He was ready to be discharged, but still had two more days worth of treatment paid for.
“So no flowers, no chocolates. Just bang and thank you very much for your service.”
“I never said thank you,” John replied.
Roxy scowled. He reached into his bedcovers and threw the dupi at him. John caught it and instantly it was gone, concealed somewhere in his jacket.
“I also got this,” he handed over a creased sheet of paper.
“What is it?”
“Hey, I find the information, now it's your turn to do some work,” he replied. “I copied it from a book he was hiding, very unimaginatively, in his desk. The rest of the office was clean. I'm sure Rachel got much more than I did,” he said with a wink.
They both ignored him.
“Where's Charlie? Isn't he normally on fetching and carrying duties?”
John hesitated, clearly reluctant to share any more of the job than they had to with Roxy.
“We found something last night. You know Harvey O'Connor?”
Roxy nodded. Everyone knew Harvey O'Connor.
“He's the one that has been killing those girls,” she said.
This he definitely didn't know. Roxy sat up, a serious look on his face. It was then Rachel realised those girls were a big part of his world. Roxy was like the patron saint of hookers and exotic dancers in S'aven. This meant more to him than it did to anyone else.
“Harvey O'Connor? That twat from the Voice? You're serious?”
“Evidence all over his computer,” John added.
Roxy shook his head. He turned to John. “Where is he?”
“Missing.”
“You going to find him?”
John tipped his head. He was going to try. “Watch Rachel's back,” he warned Roxy.
“I watch all of her.”
John wasn't going to rise to the taunt. He left without a word. There was still more work to be done.
“What a wanker,” Roxy said once he was gone. “So is that what Charlie's doing? Looking for O'Connor?”
“More like doing O'Connor's wife.”
“What?”
“She hit him over the head. That seemed to do it for him. Now he's smitten.”
“Smitten with that tart.”
“I thought you loved all street girls.”
“Jessica O'Connor is not a street girl. Street girls look out for each other. All that cow ever did was get off her face and screw everyone over. She's a liar, a thief, and normally I don't have a problem with that, but you don't shit on your own doorstop and she pretty much sold out every sister she ever had.”
He didn't see the hypocrisy.
“Isn't that what you did to us?”
He was about to argue and realised she was right. He glanced away. “It's different,” he finally said.
“How?”
“Jessica O'Connor doesn't give a flying fuck about the people she hurts.”
“And you do?” She already knew the answer. “Why'd you do it Roxy? I know it wasn't just about revenge.”
“I was angry,” he said. “I missed my best friend and I blamed Charlie and John. When Sarah was killed I helped them get out of London and afterwards words were said. They both owed me, but I never heard from them again. Not for a whole year.” He forced a smile. “I suppose I'm just a selfish arse really.”
“No, not always,” she said softly.
It was hard not to like Roxy. On the outside he was like a circus, full of intrigue and excitement, but inside there was a little boy, trying to stand up on his own and trembling with nerves. That was what made him so desirable, people just wanted to put their arms around him and, when they did, he made sure they had the ride of their lives. Rachel contemplated it, not for the first time, but decided that was a line better uncrossed.
There was a commotion outside. They both hurried out to see what the shouting was all about. A doctor was clutching a pillow to her naked torso while Dr Curtis screamed at her. It wasn't a secret that the staff supplemented their income by giving special favou
rs to the patients, but not under the nose of the chief of the hospital. The woman was sobbing, too embarrassed to fight back. She clutched a fistful of notes in her hand – her tip.
Jan told her to leave and ignored her protesting otherwise. He turned away as she scurried down the corridor and, as he faced Rachel, she could see the helpless despair on his face. He was trying to do good in a place that was no better than a sex spa. He reeled off a warning to the others. If he caught anyone fraternising with patients again they would be transferred to the community hospital. It was an idle threat. Even the dismissed doctor would be back on her rounds soon enough. The patients expected extra treatment and they would pay for the staff that gave it to them.
“You have a shoulder to cry on, go offer it,” Roxy hissed in her ear. “Get him talking about the vote.”
He was right. She nodded to Jan, not having to feign her empathy. He grumbled to the others to get back to work before striding towards her. Exasperated and frustrated, the only thing he could do was laugh in defeat.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Definitely.”
They avoided the canteen, favouring the coffee machine in his office instead. It made a good cup too. Jan sat at his desk, leaning back on his chair. He could be imposing when he wanted to be, but sat together alone she saw him for what he really was – a desperate soul trying to sort out hell.
“Well I think you put the fear of God into them,” she said.
“I don't think God dares come anywhere near here.” He sighed. “I'm not a fool, I know it happens, but it's just so brazen. Nobody seems to care how immoral it is. We're supposed to have a code of conduct. Is it like this at St Mary's?”
Rachel laughed. “Given that at least seventy percent come in with venereal diseases, would I surprise you if I said no? Anyway the patients there can barely afford medication. If they're in hospital their wounds are so bad they usually need emergency treatment and, if you've got a fiver to spend in that situation, you're going to buy a shot of morphine over a hand job every time.”
“I suppose you're right. Sorry, I shouldn't be moaning at you. What you had to deal with in St Mary's…”
“I understand. It's wrong, you want to change it and you can't. It's exactly the same position you're in here as I was there. Okay the balance is the other way, but I get it.”
He put his cup down. “I don't want you to think that I don't see it. I'm doing everything I can.” He picked up a picture on the desk. A white man and a black boy. “My father. I was adopted when I was three. Most people wouldn't take in a kid that old, especially not one with my complexion, but Dad looked at the world differently from most. He used to say that there was always a clear line between what was right and what was wrong, but it was never as easy as following a rule book. He said you have to just listen to your heart.”
He put the picture down, clearly struggling with his next thought. “My mother got sick when I was fifteen and the pain got too much. She conspired with my father, even though he was a religious man, to end her suffering and he did. It's not a big secret, he went to a work camp for it. Everyone here knows that. But he swore, until the day he died, that it was the right thing to do, even though the rest of the world said it was wrong.”
They said Reachers were wrong – abnormal – freakish. She knew exactly what he was talking about.
“He died a couple of months back and since then I've…” he paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I've followed my heart and took this job so I could make a difference.”
“I think I understand.”
“Can I ask you something? If I offered you a job here would you take it?”
She sat back surprised. A job in a London hospital – how many times had she dreamt about that? She smiled to herself – the answer was already on the tip of her tongue.
“No.”
“That's what I thought you'd say.”
Rachel finished her coffee. “Are you disappointed?”
“Actually, I think I'm relieved,” he said and a curious smile touched his lips. “Do you fancy having dinner again, just as friends?”
This was her chance. “I'm tied up for the next few nights, but I'm free tomorrow.”
He reached for his diary and frowned, annoyed. “Damn, I can't do tomorrow. I have a stupid election to go to.”
“Not for this job?” she asked, as innocently as she could.
“No, not yet. The acting head of Great General gets a vote in all border decisions because I have to manage the medical stocks going into the south of England. Some woman wants to take over the border security and I have to stop her.” He didn't sound impassioned in the slightest.
“Why do you have to stop her? Sorry, that's none of my business.”
He shrugged. “I guess it's because one person shouldn't have control over importing and exporting. It gives them too much power. Although the head of the current security has all that anyway.” He shook his head at the nonsense of it all.
“Why not blow it off then?”
“I'd best not. I may not be able to do much in life, but, in this at least, if I object, the whole project goes to the wall for a little while.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“When it comes to getting medical supplies to hospitals like St Mary's I honestly believe it is better the devil you know.”
And Rachel hated to agree with him but having Riva Morris with so much power was the worst devil she could imagine.
38
He hadn't meant to sleep with her, but he wasn't about to regret it either. Charlie felt good and it had been a long time since he could honestly say that. Jess was going to take care of Harvey, the colonel was dead, and in a few hours they would have cracked the doctor. This was how a job was supposed to be.
He slipped back into Roxy's flat at lunch time. John was working alongside Jay, filtering out Jay's constant chatter as he continued searching for some sign of Harvey O'Connor – they had no intention of going after him, they just wanted to make sure he wasn't going to show up, vote 'no' and then go off to kill another whore.
Jay was cracking the doctor's computer, while simultaneously enlightening anyone who was stupid enough to listen about world leaders being infected with some vampire virus to make them live longer. He reached for his mug of coffee and for a blissful moment the whole room exhaled in relief as he paused to take a mouthful. Three, two, one. He was back talking again. Not even stopping when John started to speak.
“You slept with her, didn't you?”
“She's going to help us out.”
The look John gave him was an inspired mixture of disappointment and despair. “Are you fucking nuts?”
He wanted to defend himself. Jess was an attractive woman. Their relationship was helping the case. For God's sake he'd been celibate since Sarah died nearly two years ago and a man has needs. Instead he said the one thing he knew would get John off his back.
“Harvey O'Connor is a Reacher.”
Silence. Even from Jay.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Jess pulled out the stuff he kept on the killings. There's autopsy reports all stating that the girls were strangled, windpipes crushed, but not a bruise on their necks. He's a telekinetic like me.”
“Does this change things?” John asked.
“No. We stick to the plan. Jess is going to take everything to the cops and they can try and hunt him down. We're staying away. By tomorrow this will be on every newspaper in London, even if he shows up at the vote, nobody will hang around to hear what he has to say. Look, by tomorrow this job will be done and we'll be out of here.”
“What about the girl?”
Charlie had been deliberately not thinking about that. “What about her?”
“She's not coming with us.”
“Don't throw your toys out of the pram.”
John pushed him. Charlie pushed back.
“What's your problem?”
“When you fuck
around we all get screwed.”
“That was one time and this is different,” Charlie tried to explain, not that he had to justify himself.
“Hey guys!” Jay called.
They'd learnt from experience not to hurry. It was entirely possible Jay was back on his Area 51 sites again. Neither of them were willing to back down from the fight. They stayed, locked in a staring match. Charlie was the first to concede, although he told himself he was just being mature.
“Guys, I think we have found our blackmailer. No wait. John what's the last sequence on that bit of paper Roxy gave you?”
John wasn't thrilled about his new 'assistant role' but he reached for the paper and read it aloud. “Six–eight–two–two–zero–five–GG–five.”
Jay started to laugh hysterically. “I've got it. I know what's going on. The sixth of August, that was four days ago, right? At five past ten at night a supply truck heading in through S'aven to Great General was robbed at gate five.”
“Supply truck?”
“Medical supplies. In layman's terms a shitload of drugs and medical equipment. Curtis was sent a police report about it from a Detective Ruth. This is the eighth robbery this year.”
“Okay, but how is that linked to O'Connor?”
“This doctor, he's not savvy. The computer is barely used but what he does he leaves in plain view for us all to see. All of his emails are still here and he's got a password reminder for the same chat site I found on O'Connor's computer. The doctor's log in details match the user being blackmailed.”
“So Harvey O'Connor was blackmailing the doctor. What about?” Charlie felt a tingle of excitement – it was all coming together. “And what for?”
“To vote no.”
Charlie shook his head. “As long as O'Connor was voting no, Riva was out anyway. This has to be about those supply trucks.” He turned to his brother. “Then I guess it's over to Rachel.”
39
Mark shifted in his seat. He was uncomfortable sharing the interview room with such an attractive woman. He couldn't figure out where to look. Jessica O'Connor was a magazine cover type of girl. She was a pinup, a fantasy for men like him and there she was, chewing on her lower lip, solving all the murders for them.
Border Lines (Reachers Book 2) Page 18