by G. K. Parks
Muffled Echoes
G.K. Parks
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and other concepts are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, establishments, events, and locations is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author.
Copyright © 2017 G.K. Parks
A Modus Operandi imprint
All rights reserved.
Print ISBN: 1942710054
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-942710-05-9
Full-length Novels in the Alexis Parker Series:
Likely Suspects
The Warhol Incident
Mimicry of Banshees
Suspicion of Murder
Racing Through Darkness
Camels and Corpses
Lack of Jurisdiction
Dying for a Fix
Intended Target
Muffled Echoes
Crisis of Conscience
Misplaced Trust
Whitewashed Lies
On Tilt
Prequel Alexis Parker Novellas:
Outcomes and Perspective: The Complete Prequel Series
Assignment Zero (Prequel series, #1)
Agent Prerogative (Prequel series, #2)
The Final Chapter (Prequel series, #3)
Julian Mercer Novels
Condemned
Betrayal
Subversion
For the real heroes
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
One
My ears were ringing, and the world spun in dizzying circles. I rolled onto my side, gasping at the sharp pain that suddenly replaced the constant throbbing. Blood ran into my eyes, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. A burning sensation ran from my fingers to my wrist. Where was I? Grey and green, those were the only two colors I could make out. One was sky and the other ground. I was outside. A vibration shot through my hip, sending a jolt of adrenaline into my system. My phone. It took three tries before my fingers slipped inside my pocket, scraping against the fabric that felt like jagged pieces of glass against my fingertips. I bit back a whimper and blindly hit answer.
“It would have been nice if you called to say you were running late,” Agent Eddie Lucca, my new partner at the OIO, said. “Are you even planning to show up at work today?”
“Lucca,” I managed to sit up, nearly blacking out in the process, “I need you to come get me.”
“Seriously, Parker, I’m not your chauffeur. It’s not my job to pick you up and take you to work.”
“No, you don’t understand.” I blinked a few times, hoping to steady the world. “Ping my phone.”
“Is this a joke?”
“No. I don’t know where I am or how I got here.” I tried to swallow, but my throat was devoid of moisture, causing me to gag and choke.
He must have heard the pain in my voice. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better.” I tried to get my legs under me, falling face first to the ground. Black bubbles clouded my vision, and I decided not to try that again. When they cleared, I was staring at a concrete curb.
“Parker, are you still there? Come on, Alexis, answer me.”
“I’m here,” I looked around, not seeing anything except a retaining wall or maybe it was a concrete structure, “wherever here is.”
Muffled words came over the line, and Lucca thanked someone. “Alex, what do you see? Describe what’s around you.”
“A fucking concrete wall. The ground is wet.” A stabbing pain shot through my back, taking my breath with it. “It might be blood.”
“Shit,” he yelled something to someone in the background, “I’m on my way, just keep talking.”
“Don’t bother stopping to pick up breakfast. I’m not hungry.”
“Are you the only one that counts? Talk about selfish.” A static burst erupted from my phone. Lucca must have entered the elevator. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
My pulse pounded loudly in my ears, and I closed my eyes. The panic was rising, bubbling to the surface. “Bring some forensic experts along. They’ll need to protect the evidence before I’m moved.”
“Parker, that’s not important right now.”
“Yes, it is. I don’t know what happened, but we need to find out.” The phone slipped from my hand, but it landed close enough that I could still hear Lucca’s voice. “Do you have my location?”
“Yeah, we’re close.”
My eyes closed, and for a time, there was nothing but the sound of my heartbeat in my ears. It came with pained exhales, and then a cacophony of sirens broke the rhythm. Doors slammed, and I winced. More sirens. Voices. Someone was close.
“My god,” Lucca cursed. “Alex, I’m here. Paramedics are a minute out, just relax.” He eased me onto my side. “It’s not so bad. You’ll be fine.” He reached for my wrist, stopping when he saw the condition of my right hand.
“Maintain the crime scene,” I hissed. “And no drugs. Don’t let them give me anything. I want a tox screening.”
He let out an uneasy snort. “Wow, and I thought your cognitive functions might be impaired. Are you sure I can’t go grab a cup of coffee while you call the shots?” He brushed my hair away, examining the gash on my forehead, and I grit my teeth. “We’ll figure out what happened and find whoever did this, but for right now, why don’t you let me take over?”
“Okay.” I swallowed, staring at the area around me as numerous people trooped past. Lucca barked orders, and from the frequent flashes going off in the distance, I suspected the area was being photographed. The paramedics arrived, and then everything began to blur. They took my vitals, assessed my injuries, and lifted me onto a stretcher. “Lucca?” I whispered, hoping that he had my back, even though I’d made his life a living hell since the moment I’d been reinstated at the Office of International Operations, a branch of the FBI.
“You’re okay. I’m sticking with you,” he assured.
The doors slammed on the back of the ambulance, causing me to jump. One of the paramedics reached around to secure the belt on the stretcher, and I panicked. Immediately, my sympathetic nervous system went into overdrive, and the monitors hooked to my chest beeped a staccato rhythm, quickly approaching a crescendo. The paramedic checked the monitor and picked up a syringe. Practically bringing myself to the brink of unconsciousness, I fought against the few buckles that were holding me on the gurney, somehow managing to slip out of them and backing myself into the corner, like a wounded animal searching for a defensible position.
The paramedic
moved closer, and I freaked out. Intellectually, I knew he was here to help, but I couldn’t override my instincts. A scream ripped past my lips, and the paramedic took a step back.
“Parker, easy,” Lucca said. “No one’s going to hurt you.” He slowly approached, holding his hands up in surrender. I nodded and collapsed against the seat. “Let’s get her to the hospital. Now.”
“Sir, it’s policy to have the injured strapped down. We don’t know how extensive her injuries are. She could—”
“Then light ‘em up and roll.” Lucca’s voice left no room for argument. It was the last thing I heard before falling back into the abyss.
* * *
“Thanks for disregarding the rulebook today, boy scout,” I mused, struggling to keep my eyes open.
Lucca nodded and bit his lip. He had taken a position in the far corner of the room while I had been scanned, poked, prodded, photographed, and otherwise analyzed. My clothing and other belongings had been taken to the crime lab, and every piece of trace evidence had been collected from my body. Frankly, that was one experience I never wanted to repeat.
One of the few benefits of being a federal agent was that this was being handled internally. At least I didn’t have to answer a million questions that some overzealous cop would surely ask. I’d been in and out of consciousness since the ambulance. The medical staff was still determining the extent of my injuries, but I could tell something wasn’t right. There was a huge gap in my memory, and I had no idea what happened or how I ended up on the side of the street.
“What do you see?” I asked, forcing Lucca to come closer. “It’s not like I have a mirror so describe my injuries.”
“Parker,” he licked his lips, “this isn’t a good idea. You’re a victim.”
“The last thing I want to be is a victim. This is a case, just like any other, and the first thing we need to do is determine what happened.”
“Fine, but for the record, you’re insane.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and stood at the end of the bed. Except for two strategically placed towels, I was completely exposed. “There’s extensive bruising on the side of your right knee. It appears to be a point of impact. Lacerations run around your lower abdomen in a circular pattern.” Slowly, I shifted onto my side. “You’ve been shot?” His voice held surprise.
“Again?” I asked, feeling panicked.
“No, it’s a faded scar, at least a year old, I’d guess.”
“Let’s keep the scar commentary to a minimum, okay?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “why didn’t you ask one of the techs to do this instead of me?”
“Why? Does the female body make you squeamish? You’re married and have a kid, so you should know what a woman looks like by now.” I glanced down to make sure the towels were still in place. Despite the dig, I didn’t want Lucca to see the goods either. Unfortunately, I had to focus on something, or I was bound to have a total meltdown. “Continue.”
“Extensive abrasions to your left side. They resemble road rash. Then there’s a large bruise on your upper back, between your shoulder blades, and what looks like blunt force trauma to your forehead.” He backed away from the bed. “And you can see for yourself the condition of your right hand.” I met his eyes, but he looked away. “You really don’t remember how any of this happened?”
“No.” I shuddered. “Is Jablonsky on his way?”
“He’ll be here soon. Right now, he’s breathing down everyone’s neck to get some answers.”
“Sounds like Mark.” Supervisory Special Agent Mark Jablonsky was my boss, mentor, and one of my oldest friends. It also explained why he wasn’t here yet to make sure I didn’t escape the confines of the hospital. “Did he send my go-bag? I’d like to get dressed.”
“Yeah, he knew it’d be in the trunk of your car.” Lucca’s brow furrowed. “Your car was parked underneath the federal building in your usual spot. What time did you leave work last night?”
“I don’t remember.” He gave me a look as if my words proved that I wasn’t in any condition to be assessing these circumstances like they were any other case. “Look, you can ask all the questions you want once we get back to the office. Until then, give me a minute to process and remember. The doctor said it might come back, so don’t push.”
“You’re the one that’s pushing,” Lucca retorted. He went to the door and spoke to someone who handed him a duffel bag. “Don’t you think the doctors would prefer you to wear a hospital gown?”
“I’ve already had every alphabet scan imaginable. It shouldn’t matter what I’m wearing since I’m ready to get out of here.”
Before I could ask Lucca to give me some privacy, a nurse came into the room. She brought my updated chart and stuck a few images on the lightboard in the corner. Then she ushered Lucca into the hallway, helped me dress, and said a doctor would be in momentarily.
While I waited, my eyes closed, and I lost another indeterminate amount of time. At least that was one way to avoid the medical professionals. The sound of voices woke me, and I pulled myself higher in the bed.
“Alex,” Mark Jablonsky strode across the room and stood beside me, “how are you feeling?”
“Not so great.”
Mark turned to Lucca. “Give us a minute, kid.” Mark and I had been through a lot together. Once Lucca was out the door, Mark turned back to me. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember anything from last night. Did the tox report come back yet?”
“From the preliminary results, there’s no indication that you were drugged. No chloroform, GHB, or rohypnol. They’re still looking for less common possibilities, but it doesn’t seem likely.”
“Then why can’t I remember anything?”
“It could be from taking that knock to the noggin’.” He frowned at the bandage. “When we found you, you were wearing what you had on yesterday. Do you remember going to a bar or restaurant after work? Did you meet Martin for dinner or drinks? He was the last received call on your cell phone prior to Lucca phoning this morning.”
“I don’t remember talking to him.” Squinting, I tried to recall our last conversation, but it made my headache worse.
Mark sat on the edge of the bed, quietly studying my right hand. My thumb, pointer, and middle fingers were bloodied and damaged at the tips, complete with torn nails. The space between my thumb and knuckles was badly bruised with a large blood blister beneath the skin. On top of that, my wrist had been severely sprained, so the doctors had bandaged and wrapped the entire mess in a temporary cast. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
“I spoke to your doctor. You’ve obviously sustained some head trauma, but the scans came out clean for fractures and bleeds. They aren’t certain if the short-term memory loss is due to physical or psychological trauma, but there’s a good chance you’ll eventually remember what happened.”
“Psychological trauma, my ass. I’ve been through hell, Jablonsky. I doubt that whatever happened last night was any worse than what I’ve already experienced.” I was angry and, admittedly, a bit afraid.
“Until then, the forensic lab is working on the most likely scenario to explain your current state.” He patted my shoulder and stood. “We’ll figure this out. In the meantime, I’ve assigned a detail for your protection. A few agents are reviewing your case files and making a list of possible enemies. The techs are combing through DOT camera footage of the surrounding area for some hint as to how you ended up outside that parking garage.”
“I can help,” I insisted, making another attempt to sit up, but Mark gently pushed me back against the pillow.
“Do whatever the doctor says, and once you’re released, Lucca volunteered to take you home and question you.”
“I thought he couldn’t stand me. Are you sure he volunteered? Maybe he’s planning to take advantage of my weakened state and suffocate me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily blame him,” Mark smiled, “but then he’d have to off the protection
detail too. And that would be a lot harder to explain.” He crossed the room. “Is there anything you need?”
“Yeah, I need to know what happened.”
He nodded and left the room. A few seconds later, Lucca returned to find me struggling to get out of bed. He watched while I wrapped my left hand around the bar and pulled myself up, hissing when the lacerations on my back and torso started bleeding again.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting out of here.” I reached for the FBI emblazoned windbreaker that someone left for my use.
“You shouldn’t be leaving,” Lucca said from the doorway as I fought to get my cast into the sleeve. “The doctors want to monitor you overnight. You could have internal bleeding that they missed or…”
“I don’t care. We have work to do.”
“You’re in no condition to work. You can barely stand. We can handle this.”
“You don’t even know what this is,” I spat, “and I won’t be able to relax until I know what happened.” My memory was a blur. Blocking out trauma was the body’s way of protecting itself, but the horrific things I imagined were sickening. “How long until we get the full toxicology report back?” I wasn’t a blackout drunk, so there had to be an explanation for my fogginess.
“Soon. Probably by tomorrow.”
“Have a complete copy of my medical report, including the scans and tests, sent to our lab techs. Our FBI field office has a stellar crime lab. They’ll be able to determine the most likely cause of my injuries.”
“Jablonsky’s already done that.”
“Great.” Teetering, I leaned back so I wouldn’t fall forward. “Now go find a nurse and get my discharge papers. I’m not sure I’m capable of tracking anyone down at the moment.”
“You should stay here, Parker. The point of this place is to make people feel better.”
“A lot of bad things happen in hospitals, so I’d rather take my chances out there.” I looked pointedly at the window. “C’mon, you promised to take me home, and I’ve been assigned a team of babysitters. It’ll be fine.”