Hunted: A Suspense Collection

by J. L. Drake

  He received an email back from Harmon, but it wasn’t what he’d expected. The response simply said to call him.

  Frowning and sitting at the foot of one of the beds in his hotel room, David called his boss.

  “You said to call…?” he said as soon as his boss picked up.

  “I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible that a new case has been found,” Harmon said.

  “Holy shit! You’re serious? You’re not just messing with me…?”

  “No, I’m not messing with you,” Harmon said, and chuckled. “The search you had running in the database got a hit on a report only a couple days old, in Pittsburgh.”

  “I guess I’ll be changing my travel plans,” David said, standing and pacing while he thought about what this meant for his case.

  He was close—only a couple of states away.

  “We’ve booked you a flight to Pennsylvania, but it doesn’t leave until tomorrow afternoon.”

  David wanted to travel right then, but he knew the urge wasn’t practical. Even if he drove, he wouldn’t get to Pennsylvania any sooner.

  “I think the organ harvesting theory is plausible—it makes sense,” Harmon said. “Go ahead and go into the Memphis office as you’d planned. Do more research while you wait for your flight.”

  “That’s a good idea,” David admitted. “I’ll do that and I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  With that, the agents ended the call.

  David stopped his pacing at the window. He was three stories up and had a great view of the surrounding area, but he didn’t see it.

  His cell phone weighed heavy in his hand. He wanted to call his mother to tell her what was going on and how close he might be to finding out what had happened to Daniel. Then he remembered how he’d fallen apart at the mere idea of Daniel being dead. He couldn’t bring himself to do that to their mom on a maybe. He wanted to know something definite before he hurt her. But he still wished he had someone he could talk to about what he was thinking and feeling.

  With a sigh, he turned back into his room and laid his cell phone on the small desk between the window and the dresser that supported the TV in his hotel room. His plans for the night were to take a shower, find some food, and try to sleep so he could have a successful day of research before he headed out to his new, promising destination.

  Everything seemed to be happening really fast all of a sudden. As he stripped before stepping into the shower he mumbled to himself, “Be careful what you wish for—you might just get it.”

  He was going to find out the truth and he feared he wasn’t ready for the reality that sped toward him, especially since just the idea of what might be left him shaking.

  Chapter 18

  “Watch your back.”

  The words wouldn’t stop running through Sonya’s mind. She kept wondering what she was supposed to be watching out for. Lloyd knew she could handle herself, so it baffled her that he would even bother sending her such a message. She was also wondering what had prompted him to say Roger could be included in the plan.

  When she pulled into the hospital parking lot, she checked to see if he’d responded to her text, asking him what was going on—he hadn’t. With a sigh, she decided to text Jan and tell her she’d check and see if anyone at the hospital had admitted an unidentified man.

  Opening her car door, she balanced her travel mug full of coffee and her keys in one hand, and stood, holding her phone in the other. She slid the electronic device into the front pocket of her shirt and slammed the door with her foot, heading toward the medical facility twenty yards away. As an afterthought, she pulled her phone back out and texted Miles as she entered the building.

  Sonya: How are things?

  She jumped when her phone vibrated and chirped almost instantly after she hit send. She frowned down at the phone.

  Miles: Fine…you coming down?

  Quickly, she put her things in her locker and headed to the elevator bank to ride up to her floor and start her shift.

  Sonya: Later. Have to get to my floor.

  ***

  Several hours later…

  Sonya headed downstairs, tired after her shift. They’d been short-handed and all the rooms had been occupied. Running her ass off and working like a dog at the whim of sick, grumpy people wasn’t her idea of a good time, but she kept herself going by thinking of ways she could murder them and make lots and lots of money. The morbid thoughts had kept a smile on her face all day.

  Knowing Bill Housen was dead, she didn’t even bother going and checking about him. Instead, she exited the elevator and headed down the hall to collect her things from her locker. When she came back out into the hallway, she turned the corner to the elevator that would take her down to the morgue.

  She pressed the button and stepped in when the doors slid open. She pressed the button for the morgue and waited. The doors slid shut and she was alone for a moment to lean against the wall and close her eyes. The ding when the doors opened signaled it was time to get the meeting over and done with, so she straightened up and trudged out into the hall.

  Normally the cool, shadowy corridor soothed her, but she was so tired, just being down there annoyed her, and she had a feeling Miles was going to annoy her to the point of anger.

  She spied him through the window, weighing a heart he’d taken out of a body. He spoke as he did so, recording dialogue notes as he proceeded with an autopsy.

  Stepping up to the door, she knocked, and he glanced up.

  He smiled behind the clear face shield he was wearing and tried to wave, almost dropping the heart he held in his rubber-covered, bloody hands.

  Despite her bad mood, she couldn’t help but laugh at his blunder. She shook her head and nodded to the left of the doorway, indicating she’d be waiting in one of the chairs in the hallway.

  She sighed as she sat, feeling the muscles of her body momentarily relaxing. She wished for a bubble bath…a bubble bath with Lloyd. Sighing again, she bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, envisioning what she would do with Lloyd if her wish came true.

  The door clicked open and made her jump. She opened her eyes to see Miles standing in the doorway.

  “Were you asleep?” he asked, smiling awkwardly. “You look tired.”

  “I am tired,” she said, standing and walking over to the doorway, “but no, I wasn’t asleep.”

  “Okay…” he said, stepping back to allow her entrance to the morgue.

  “You sounded…strange earlier,” she said, turning to him after the door had closed. “Is everything okay?”

  “Uh…” he said, shifting back and forth and rubbing his now bare hands on his pants. “I’ve been thinking about this entire family thing.”

  “And?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

  “I don’t know if it’s possible,” he said, not looking at her.

  “What do you mean you don’t know if it’s possible?” she asked a little harsher than she meant to.

  He visibly cringed, and raised and clasped his hands in front of his chest in a pleading manner.

  “I don’t mean to upset you,” he almost whined, “but I don’t know how we’re going to get them pushed through. The paperwork…” He shrugged, dropped his hands back down to his sides to fidget with his pants, and looked at the floor.

  Sonya’s face was red and her hands were balled into fists. She wanted to hurt him, and hurt him bad. She took a couple of deep breaths and let her mind work for a moment, forcing herself to smile.

  Finally, Miles chanced a glance up at her and was surprised to see she was smiling.

  “You’re not mad at me?” he asked cautiously.

  She sighed, tilted her head to the side, and looked at him like he was silly.

  “No, darling,” she said softly. “I’m not mad. But I really need this to work. Is there any way you can get around these…issues?”

  “Um…” he said, glancing around nervously and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t
know. I suppose I could check into it.”

  She stepped forward, put her hands on his shoulders, and blinked her green eyes seductively.

  “Would you do that? For me?” she asked, leaning forward to kiss him.

  “I can try, but I don’t know that there’s anything I can do,” he said, gripping her hips in his clammy hands.

  She kissed him again, flicking her tongue lightly against his lips and closing her eyes.

  “I really need you to make this work for me…for us,” she whispered against his lips, relaxing her body against his.

  He cleared his throat and croaked out: “Okay.”

  She smiled and kissed him again, sliding her hands up his neck and into the hair on the back of his head. Grinding her hips against his, she moaned like she was enjoying herself and wanted him.

  He clumsily slid his hands under the hem of her shirt and reached up to fondle her bra-covered breasts.

  She whimpered and pulled back, looking up at him.

  “Miles…” she whispered, “I don’t think this is a good idea. Someone could see us.”

  “Please,” he moaned, planting wet, sloppy kisses on her jaw and neck. “I’ll do anything you want if you’ll let me have you.”

  She closed her eyes tight and forced herself not to flinch away. For a few moments she battled within herself, unsure if she wanted to go that far for the job—she’d done it before, but she’d never liked it. She thought of Lloyd, knowing he would be pissed, but hoped he would understand as she made her decision. They would need Miles as a scapegoat and distraction.

  “Okay, but we have to be careful,” she said, and clenched her jaw as he ground his hips against hers and she felt his arousal. She wanted to vomit.

  “We can go over behind the cabinet…” he panted, grabbing her and squeezing her body randomly.

  “Okay,” she said, and nodded stiffly.

  He drew her back to the corner of the room where a large stand-alone cabinet blocked them from the windows. Kissing and licking at any part of her skin he could reach, Miles yanked her pants, slip-on rubber clogs, and panties off, then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his own pants, sliding them and his underwear down.

  Before Sonya knew what was going on, he was shoving her up against the back wall of the room, thrusting roughly into her. She closed her eyes tight, pressed her face against his neck, and balled her fists in his shirt.

  He grunted repeatedly as he pumped into her, pulling her legs higher up and around his waist with shaky, sweating hands.

  Focusing on drawing into herself, she let her subconscious come forward and do the actions needed to perform the task at hand. She made noises, offered whispered encouragement, and prayed it would be over quickly—it was.

  With a wild cry and a shudder, Miles reached his orgasm.

  Sonya clenched her inner muscles around him and cried out as well, faking her climax.

  “You’re amazing,” he panted as he leaned back and looked at her.

  She smiled and said, “You are too.” She leaned forward and kissed him, slow and lingering.

  A loud, long beep sounded from overhead.

  Sonya jumped, startled.

  “What was that?”

  “Oh, shit,” Miles said, letting go of her legs and stepping back, severing their physical contact.

  “Oh, shit, what?” she asked, looking around and up at the ceiling while gathering her clothes off the floor, putting them on.

  “I left the recorder on,” he said flatly, zipping his fly and buckling his belt.

  “You did what?” Sonya yelled.

  “Calm down,” he said, glancing at her and then shuffling over to a small control panel. “I can record over it later.”

  “Later? Can’t you just erase it now? How much did it pick up?”

  He shrugged and rubbed the bald top of his head with one hand.

  “The recorder picks up all noise in the room, so it probably got everything,” he said.

  “Erase it,” she demanded, marching over to him as she adjusted the waistband of her pants and straightened her shirt.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said defensively.

  “For all I know you did,” she snapped. “Erase it!”

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “I can’t just erase it, since I have most of the autopsy on the tape already,” he said calmly, like she was being unreasonable. “I have to tape over it when I continue.”

  “Well, you’d better damn well tape over it, because that could get us both in serious trouble!”

  He sighed, turned to her, and pulled her into his arms.

  Sonya’s instinct was to fight him, but she reminded herself that she was supposed to be all loving since they’d just fucked. She sighed and relaxed into his embrace.

  “Don’t worry—I’ll take care of it,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead. “I won’t let anyone hurt you or let anything happen to you, okay?”

  She wanted to laugh hysterically at his stupid, misplaced promise, but she nodded and pretended she wasn’t as upset, while inside she was seething with anger.

  “I have to go home,” she said. “I’m tired. You promise you’ll fix the tape?” She looked into his eyes, searching for whether he was telling the truth.

  “Yes, my love,” he said, and kissed her. “I’ll take care of it. You go home and get some rest. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  Again, his silly, lovesick endearments and promises made her want to laugh.

  She nodded and headed for the door.

  He rushed forward and opened it for her.

  She stopped and kissed him gently before leaving, smiling sweetly and waving her fingers like a teenage girl as she exited.

  She sauntered down the hall, swaying her hips, knowing he was watching her, but after she was inside the elevator and had pressed the button to go up, she doubled over and gagged, feeling filthy and violated.

  Her phone vibrated and chirped in her pocket—twice, right in a row—making her jump and stand up straight. She pulled it out and saw that Lloyd and Jennings had both texted her.

  Lloyd: I’m at your place. Where are you?

  Jennings: Meeting tonight. Usual place and time.

  She sighed as the elevator ding resounded and the doors slid open because she wasn’t looking forward to facing Lloyd.

  Heading toward the parking lot, she thought about what she would say to him…wondering how he would take the news of her recent actions.

  Chapter 19

  David hadn’t slept well. Every time his eyes closed, his brain projected scenes of his brother being chopped up. The bloody images made him sick. He woke up multiple times in a cold sweat, shaking.

  Finally he’d given up on resting and opted to make a list of what he wanted to look for when he went into the Memphis field office. He planned to follow both of his theories, just to cover his bases. He would look for human traffickers and for medical personnel.

  He made two lists of things to look into—one for each. For the human traffickers, he would look for foreigners in the areas that had criminal records and were associated with gangs or mafias that could afford to export human cargo. For the medical team, he would look for new employees at local hospitals or new practices. He would look into any new hires’ references to see if they matched up with Nashville and Cleveland. Beyond that, he would try to get some feelers out to the black market to see how hard it would be to get human organs. For either aspect he would need help. He would need a couple of agents who were willing to go undercover to infiltrate both aspects. Or at least agents or cops from the area that might already have contacts.

  He’d been excited when he’d gotten the new leads, but as he sat down and faced the work that needed to be done to move forward, his heart sank. Just from what he was putting down on paper, it looked like it would take six months to a year before he would have the information needed to find the people he was looking for. He hoped it would
n’t, that he’d somehow figure something out, but things didn’t always work out the way he hoped.

  With a lot on his mind and not being able to sleep, he decided to go down to the hotel’s gym and burn off some excess nervous energy while he let his mind process all the information it held. He’d always considered a treadmill a thinking machine.

  ***

  By the time the sun was shining its light on the world, Agent McCoy’s muscles were tired and his mind was clear. He’d come up with multiple ways he could search for information on his theories. He would put them into action along with what he’d already written down once he made it into the Memphis office. Agent Harmon was supposed to have greased wheels for him so he would have access to all the information he needed.

  He helped himself to the free continental breakfast provided by the hotel and then headed up to his room to take a shower. After his shower, he dressed, packed the few things he’d gotten out of his bags, and headed to check out of his room. He planned to go straight to the airport from the Memphis office.

  “Checking out,” he said to the young woman behind the lobby desk as he dropped off his key.

  She picked the key card up off the counter, smiled at him, and asked, “Did you enjoy your stay, sir? Is there anything else we can do for you?”

  “Yes, my stay was fine,” he said. “Could you call me a cab, please?”

  “Sure,” she replied, typing on a keyboard and checking the information on his room in the computer. “Should I charge the card you checked in with? Or would you like to use another form of payment?”