Savage Peril: Military Romantic Suspense (Stealth Security Book 6)

by Emily Jane Trent

  Her friend lived in a two-story home in Pasadena, a good place for raising a family. The neighborhood was quiet, but it would come to life later when school was out. Before that, Lori would have a chance to talk over her situation and decide how to proceed.

  Jess was in sweats from her early morning jog. She had her hair in a headband and wore no makeup. “I haven’t showered yet, but this sounded important.”

  Lori followed her to the dining room and sat at the table.

  “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure, that would be great,” Lori said. “I could use one.”

  The coffee was already made, so Jess poured two cups and came back to sit across from Lori. “So, what gives?”

  Lori took a sip of the black coffee. “Remember when we talked before, and you mentioned toxicity?”

  “Of course. What did you find out?”

  Lori shared the facts she had so far, and confessed what she suspected.

  “That is heavy,” Jess said. “Who would want to kill your father?”

  “I can hardly believe that it’s a possibility,” Lori said. “But if it’s true, I’ll have to prove it.”

  “How do you plan to do that?” When Lori didn’t reply, Jess widened her eyes. “Are you considering what I think you are?”

  Lori scrubbed her hands over her face. “I don’t see any other option. I’ll have to request the exhumation of my father’s body, so an autopsy can be performed.”

  “Will that be allowed?”

  “I think so,” Lori said. “When I couldn’t sleep last night, I spent some time on the computer. I learned that it is possible, but there is stringent legal procedure.”

  “You can’t just pop into the cemetery and request your father’s body.”

  “It will require a court order,” Lori said. “The key to approval for my application is that credible information has to be presented, so the need for an autopsy will be clear.”

  “I’m not an expert on thallium,” Jess said. “But it’s not like you can request a blood test, as you would with a live patient.”

  “Nope, I don’t have to,” Lori said. “The medical examiner will test a sample of my father’s hair. If there was thallium in his system, the test will show it.”

  “It’s fortunate that hair fibers don’t decompose like the rest of the body,” Jess said. “The hair and nails last long after death.”

  “The challenge is going to be obtaining court approval,” Lori said. “I’ll go see our attorney and hire him to handle the request to the court. He has handled legal matters for the family for years. I hope he will be willing to help with this.”

  “Isn’t it expensive to exhume a body?”

  “From what I could find out, it’s many thousands of dollars,” Lori said. “Plus, there are the attorney’s fees and the cost for the medical examiner.”

  “Can you afford it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I don’t see why you must finance the process without contribution from the family,” Jess said. “What about your uncle Sheldon? My husband has mentioned how well he does as an investment banker.”

  Lori considered that for a moment. Sheldon had prospered in his career, much more than Lori and her father had with the medical clinic. Her uncle had a more opulent lifestyle, ate in expensive restaurants, drove a new car, and lived in a home that cost millions. But Lori hadn’t begrudged her uncle his success; he’d been good to her over the years.

  “I can’t ask him to do that,” Lori said. “It doesn’t feel right. Just because he has money doesn’t mean he’s obligated to finance this. I’m more comfortable dealing with this myself.”

  “You’re going to let pride stand in your way?”

  “I suppose,” Lori said. “We’ll see how it goes. If I get in a tight spot, then I might ask Sheldon. But I can probably take care of the cost. Even if it wipes out my savings, it will be worth it.”

  “I don’t envy you this task,” Jess said. “It was very traumatic when your father died…and now this.”

  *****

  Lori left so Jess could get ready for work. She went to the clinic, but the environment didn’t feel the same. The thought that her father might have been murdered haunted her.

  As Lori walked down the hallway to her office, an eerie feeling came over her. Danger seemed to surround her, making her shudder at the hidden threat. For the first time, she didn’t feel safe in her own clinic.

  When Lori got to her office, she locked the door, then called her attorney. As calmly as she could, she relayed the nature of her business. It sounded a bit crazy, yet she had to pursue this course of action. Her attorney understood and agreed to handle the matter for her. She made an appointment to see him to discuss the details and sign the required documents.

  With that behind her, Lori should have felt better, yet relief escaped her. Now that she had taken action, she would need to tell the others. She had no idea how they would respond.

  Lori would need to tell her brother and her uncle, but she preferred to do that in person. She went to the nurses’ station and asked Sarah to step into an exam room with her.

  Sarah’s reaction to the news wasn’t as dramatic as Lori had envisioned. She wasn’t family, so that made a difference. But she didn’t seem shocked by the notion of murder, just saddened that Lori had to face such a horrible thing.

  Next was Adam. He was the on-duty doctor, so Lori waited until he had finished with his morning patients. In the privacy of his office, she told him what she intended. He asked a few questions but didn’t try to talk her out of it.

  Adam was a friend, and he wanted the best for Lori. He had tried to convince her not to give in to nagging doubts about her father’s death. But once he heard the facts, Adam agreed that she was doing the right thing.

  When Matt returned from lunch, Lori spoke to him in his office. She didn’t relish the idea of sharing the news. Yet Matt had been good friends with her father, and he had a right to know.

  “You’re going to dig up your father’s body?” Matt said. “I find that appalling.”

  “What would you have me do?” Lori said. “There are questions concerning the cause of death.”

  “You really think that someone murdered your father?”

  “At this point, I only have suspicions,” Lori said. “But I can’t brush those aside.”

  “You have the death certificate with the cause of death determined by the coroner,” Matt said.

  Lori fought back tears; she didn’t want to cry in front of Matt. She pushed away her grief, annoyed with Matt’s coldness about such a personal issue.

  “Can’t you see how important this is?” Lori said. “You’ve known me for many years… We’ve been intimate, for Christ’s sake. Do you really think that I would do something like this if I didn’t believe it was the right thing?”

  “Have you considered the scandal that this will cause?” Matt stood and paced behind his desk. “You aren’t the only person involved here. Such a story will affect the reputation of the clinic and affect more lives besides yours.”

  “That’s not the issue,” Lori said. “If someone killed my father, I want to know—I need to know.”

  “But who would do something like that?” Matt said, then sank into his chair. “I mean, really, can you imagine anyone?”

  “No, I can’t,” Lori said. “That is the reason that I didn’t ask for an autopsy before. I accepted the coroner’s decision. Only…I wasn’t satisfied.”

  Matt stared at her. “Why the hell not?”

  “Matt, please, try to understand,” Lori said. “Opposing me will only make this more difficult.”

  Matt closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Then he let out a long breath. “All right, if you must do this, I’ll try to understand. But you aren’t going to find anything.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “I apologize,” Matt said. “I reacted…what can I say? It’s distressing to think of your fa
ther exhumed. He was a good friend, and I don’t like the thought of disturbing him. But if it will put your mind at ease, if you will accept the cause of death and put this behind you, then go ahead.”

  Lori was pleased that Matt had changed his view. He had his flaws, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He wouldn’t want a murderer to roam free. And whether he admitted it or not, it would be a relief to know what really happened—whatever that was.

  “Also, I wanted to mention that I’m overseeing our supply orders,” Matt said. “I’m not leaving it up to Katherine.”

  Katherine Evans was the office manager in charge of billing and other administrative tasks, plus she supervised staff involved with medical supplies and drugs for the clinic. Matt was her direct supervisor. “That’s good to know. I’d like to be informed about what you find.” She wondered if Matt would track down the reason for the errors and discrepancies.

  Chapter 7

  The next day, Lori got a call from Marco Bacci. At first, she didn’t recognize the name, then she remembered he was the passenger she’d saved. His issue wasn’t pain-related, so she wasn’t sure why he was contacting her. Maybe it was to thank her, but that was unnecessary.

  Marco wanted a favor, but not for himself. He’d raved about her skill as a doctor, and an important client of his wished to see her. For some reason, coming to the clinic wasn’t an option. Lori wasn’t in the habit of doing house calls, yet she felt obligated.

  Saving a man’s life had strings attached. Lori felt responsible for Marco and didn’t have the heart to refuse to help. Instead of meeting at the Bacci law office, the client’s preference was to meet at his home. Despite her misgivings, Lori agreed.

  That afternoon, Lori put aside other tasks and drove to Brentwood to meet the client. She took medical supplies with her, not knowing what she’d be dealing with. All she was told was that the client had pain in his shoulder.

  The home was a mansion, hidden away in the hills. Lori had trouble finding it, since it was secluded behind a thick grove of trees. At street level, she buzzed to signal her arrival and the iron gate opened. She stopped halfway up the long paver driveway to gawk at the place.

  It was an enormous white stucco two-story mansion. Lori guessed that it cost multimillions, based on what she knew of Brentwood. The neighborhood was a favorite of sports stars and entertainers. She wondered what Marco’s client did for a living to afford such luxury.

  Lori hadn’t been in a mansion of that quality before. Her uncle lived in an expensive home, but it wasn’t in the same class as the house that towered before her. The opulence was intimidating, making her wish that she had worn nicer clothes. Since it was a medical visit, she wore a white lab coat.

  Off the circular drive was a parking area, where Lori found a spot. The paved area was large enough to accommodate many vehicles. When she got out of the car with her medical bag, a burly man startled her. He had silently appeared at the entrance to the lot.

  The man had a dour expression and was dressed in black. His dark image contrasted with the brilliant white of the home and the luxurious grounds. He was in a guard’s uniform, which was alarming more than reassuring.

  “I’ll show you in,” the man said, without introducing himself. He wasn’t friendly or welcoming, giving Lori second thoughts about agreeing to come. Without another word, he ushered her inside.

  The interior was just as impressive. The home had high ceilings, rich wood paneling, and expensive décor. Lori would have liked a tour, but she was there for business. She followed the guard down the hall, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

  Lori entered an expansive room where several men were seated. Marco rose then walked toward her, and it was a relief to see a familiar face. He looked different than the last time she’d seen him. He wore an expensive suit and his hair was neatly groomed—plus, he appeared healthy.

  “Doctor Waters, it was kind of you to come. These gentlemen are clients of mine,” Marco said, indicating the other two sitting in padded chairs by a stone fireplace.

  The introductions were made, and Lori shook hands. The older man was Lorenzo Cambio. He had dark hair, thick brows, and creases lining his forehead. He scrutinized Lori, making her nervous.

  The middle-aged man was Flavio Zucco. He had dark hair and eyes like Lorenzo; their appearances were so similar that they had to be related. His posture and attitude gave him a tough-guy persona. And his muscles strained against his shirt, making him more threatening.

  The men were Italian, so spoke English with an accent. Politely, Lori inquired about their business. It was a sensible question, since Marco was their attorney. Their answer was vague. They were independent distributors and had “done well with investments.”

  Their expressions prohibited Lori from asking more. She was curious, but they didn’t seem inclined to share anything private. The mansion, their Italian heritage, and their demeanor indicated a mob connection.

  “I trust that you haven’t had another incident?” Lori said to Marco.

  “I’ve stayed clear of peanuts,” Marco said.

  “Which one of you requires treatment?” Lori said.

  “That would be me,” Lorenzo said. “Marco speaks highly of you.”

  “Thank you,” Lori said. “I was only doing my duty as a doctor.”

  “I appreciate you making a house call,” Marco said. “It wasn’t convenient to travel to the clinic.”

  Lori regretted agreeing to treat a patient outside the clinic. There were risks involved, as she had to cope without the clinic procedures, and she didn’t have all of her equipment available.

  “Are you experiencing pain?” Lori said.

  “It’s my left shoulder,” Lorenzo said. “It aches at night and is a nuisance.”

  Lori stood beside his chair, despite her trembling. She put on a brave face. Her role was to help the patient if she could. “How did you injure it?”

  “It’s an old sports injury.”

  Lori knew that was all she would get from him, even though she suspected he hadn’t played sports. His gangster appearance didn’t fit with an athletic past—unless street fighting qualified as sport.

  After a brief exam and a few more questions, Lori determined that the pain resulted from a fracture of the humerus bone in his left arm. The injury had happened so long ago that it was a matter of controlling the pain and keeping the joint limber.

  Lori recommended physical therapy, yet cautioned that treatment could relieve the stiffness, but not resolve the condition. She learned that Lorenzo had tried physical therapy, but the pain persisted. Since he had a doctor, Lori began to wonder why she’d been asked to visit.

  “I can prescribe pain medication to make you more comfortable,” Lori said.

  Marco and Flavio looked on during the exam without interrupting. Lorenzo’s attitude made it obvious that he was in charge.

  “We thought you’d be able to provide what he needs,” Flavio said.

  That seemed like an odd way of phrasing it, but Lori nodded. “I’ll give him a prescription for ten days, but then he should see his regular doctor.”

  “But you could give him more, if he needed it?” Flavio said.

  Lori wasn’t sure what he was getting at. She wasn’t going to overprescribe, if that was what he was implying.

  “I knew your father,” Lorenzo said. “I respected him for establishing the largest pain clinic in this city.”

  “I don’t recall him mentioning you.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know him well,” Lorenzo said. “But I admired his work. He was in a lucrative field, considering he dealt with pain relief.”

  “I suppose.”

  “A couple years back, OxyContin was in high demand,” Lorenzo said. “Your father dispensed plenty of it, I’m sure.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Just that the same drugs used in your clinic are worth big money on the black market.” Lorenzo let that sink in.

  “Pain medication is highly addictive,�
� Lori said. “Demand might drive illegal drug sales, but any competent doctor controls the use for the patient’s safety.”

  Flavio shifted in his seat and Marco stared at the carpet. Lori felt like she’d missed something—or maybe she hadn’t.

  “OxyContin is the most popular drug on the street with addicts,” Lorenzo said.

  “It seems like you know a lot about it.” Lori held her breath, unsure how to proceed.

  “I hear many things.” Lorenzo gave her a penetrating look. “There is a lot of money to be made.”

  Lori returned her medical supplies to her bag, taking the opportunity to turn away and regain her composure. She scribbled out a prescription for a low dose of pain medication and handed it to her patient. “I’ll be on my way.”

  Marco stood to escort her out. “I want to thank you for coming.”

  Lori wanted to get out. It wasn’t that she thought the thugs would gun her down, but she was anxious to get away from the unsettling atmosphere. The mob wanted her to funnel drugs to them for profit.

  She was insulted, and terrified that they would pursue her. Most of what she knew about the mob was from movies, and she feared repercussions from refusing their offer. It had been a mistake to visit a new patient at his home.

  She wouldn’t return or write any more prescriptions for Lorenzo Cambio. It was a shame that Marco had turned her good deed against her. She had saved his life, and in return he’d put her in a dangerous situation.

  The guard watched Lori walk to her car and drive down the hill. She must have read too much into that conversation. As the massive gate slowly opened, she felt like a trapped bird gasping for oxygen. But once she was on the road, her mind began to clear.

  Lori had treated a mobster for shoulder pain; that was all. He was a patient like any other. The conversation had drifted onto unwelcome topics, but what else had she expected to talk about with them? There had been no agreement proposed or any business offer made. It had been only idle talk—upsetting for sure, but nothing to worry about.