Heartless: a Derek Cole Mystery Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 1) (35 page)

Derek drifted, thankfully to a place where his pain wasn’t allowed.

Again his eyes captured light and his ears, sound. Ralph was absent as others, unfamiliar but comforting, darted in then out of his field of vision. Each offered something, some to him and some to others. His pain reemerged, and then was muted.

“I saw her,” he said through a voice that sounded much too distorted for his own comfort. “She saved me.”

“Relax and take a deep breath,” a comforter said to him.

“She saved me.”

Derek awoke to the sounds of dinner plates being placed onto a cart and wheeled away. There were sounds coming from a television hidden somewhere in the room that he found himself in. It wasn’t the appearance of the room, the sounds he heard, or even the fact that a nurse was taking his blood pressure that let him know he was in a hospital. It was the person sitting beside his bed that made him fully aware of where he was.

“That was quite a nap you took there, son.”

Ralph Fox sat in a rather uncomfortable-looking blue chair beside Derek’s hospital bed. He has holding a Styrofoam take-out box, overly stuffed with french fries, potato salad, and the remains of three pieces of fried chicken.

“How long have I been out?” Derek asked.

“Two and half days,” Ralph said. “Kind of lost track. Been busy cleaning things up.”

“What happened?”

“You mean after you got your gut all busted up? Hell son, you missed the best part of your whole damn case.”

“You feel like filling me in, or do I have to read about it in the paper?”

“Ain’t never trusted no journalist to tell things accurately. You tell me when you feel up to it, and I’ll tell you the truth. Gotta say, ya]ou ain’t gonna be happy about being in la la land during what transpired in that room you was dying in. Ain’t gonna be happy at all, I imagine.”

“Thomas? Is he okay?”

“Okay is very subjective term, Derek Cole. If you’re asking if Thomas O’Connell is alive, he is. Straus weren’t so lucky, though. As for Alexander, now that is the best part of the story. Truth is, I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, but I suspect he ain’t living.”

“Tell me what happened. I’m okay to listen,” Derek said.

“You sure you’re up to it?” Ralph teased.

“I’m sure.”

As Derek continued to reach full consciousness, Ralph detailed what had happened when he walked into Ward C.

“I suppose that after you walked yourself in, that old Alexander Black forgot to close the door. Hell son, once you told me you was heading down to Hilburn, I jumped in my car and headed down myself. Captain Smith weren’t too happy when he found out that I was the one who stopped Black, but hell, this was my murder investigation from the start.”

“What did you mean when you said you weren’t sure if Alexander was dead or alive?” Derek asked.

“When I left that room, there were a whole mess of NYPD people milling about. Coroner confirmed that Straus was dead and declared Alexander to be dead as well. I told him what I knew about Alexander, but I don’t think anyone in that room believed me.
 

“I was taken outside and was giving my deposition when I saw them wheeling out two gurneys with filled body bags lying atop them. I told them officers again, but I gave up trying to convince them of something that I ain’t sure I fully believe yet. I imagine that Straus and Alexander are together again in some city morgue.”

“If he isn’t really dead, they’re going to have quite a surprise,” Derek said.

“Thomas was telling me, right before they cuffed him and brought him downtown for questioning, that Straus was telling Alexander that he was pretty close to dying as it was. Said that Straus injected Alexander with a virus that was causing his body to start decomposing. Sure did smell like a dog twelve days dead in that room.”

“Straus told Alexander that he brought a cure with him. I didn’t see him for sure but I half remember Alexander injecting a vial of something into his own neck.”

“Yup, that he did. Thing is, Straus had a couple of plans himself. Found out about them once I was allowed to take a few glances at Brian Lucietta’s journal. Seems Straus devised a Plan B and a Plan C. Plan B was to kill off all the other doctors so that he could blame them for everything. He was planning on holing up in Hilburn until he heard that the other doctors were all dead and that Alexander was apprehended.

“His Plan C was devised in case Alexander found his hiding spot. Hell, he even labeled that vial ‘Plan C.’”

“What was in the vial?” Derek asked.

“Pure acid. Ain’t sure which type. Didn’t matter, I guess, but it sure weren’t no cure.”

Ralph and Derek talked about the case, how all the clues were there, and about what would happen to Thomas O’Connell. They talked about Straus and how, in the end, he got what he probably deserved: To die in agony in the same room that he held Alexander captive for so many years.

“What about the message I got when I landed in Albany,” Derek asked.

“Thomas assured us that he had nothing to do with that message. Using deductive reasoning, I determined that it was Ken O’Connell. See, as you know, his plan was all about extortion. Thomas’s plan was all about getting his brother out of the lodge and making everything public. Alexander’s plan was all about killing all the doctors. That Ken O’Connell sure was a smart man, but he also sure did make a lot of mistakes. The way I see it, he called and left that message for you to get you to thinking that Straus was behind Alexander’s release. That way, you’d be more inclined to focus your looking towards finding Straus.”

“I still don’t understand everything,” Derek said. “Like, how did Thomas get away from the guys his father had watching him?”

“According to Thomas, those guys protecting him only did so during the night. During the day, they’d pull that boat up to shore and take off doing whatever it was that O’Connell paid them to do. Thomas received an email from Alexander, telling him that it was time to implement their plan. He just walked off the boat, jumped on a plane, and was going to meet Alexander at the lodge. Thing was, by the time he got there, the lodge was a crime scene. He told us that he and Alexander had a backup plan. Two of ‘em actually. One was the paths marked with the hearts that I showed you, the other was to meet up in Manhattan.”

“How did Alexander find Ken O’Connell when he killed him?”

“O’Connell set Alexander up in an apartment in Manhattan. When he found out that Lucietta had been killed, he sent one of his goons over to find Alexander and probably to kill him. Alexander wasn’t in that apartment, but he left a note that was addressed to Ken O’Connell. We found the note tucked into O’Connell’s back pocket. Good thing he wasn’t burned up, or we never would have solved that part of the mystery.

“Note just told Ken where Alexander was expecting to meet him. O’Connell showed up with one of his goons. NYPD found his goon dead outside the old warehouse, and they found Ken dead inside the warehouse.”

“That means Alexander killed seven people, and Straus killed two. That’s a lot of activity for a small town chief of police,” Derek teased. “Good thing my old buddy Jared Smith was there to lend his hand.”

“Yup,” Ralph said, “this old Texas boy sure was in need of some help with this whole case.”

By the time the nurse came into Derek’s room and suggested that Derek be allowed to get some rest, Derek understood everything about the Alexander Black mystery. As Ralph stood to leave, he extended his hand to Derek.

“That glossy card you carry in your wallet? You think you got enough room to add another name to it?”

“I bet I can squeeze in a few more letters,” Derek said

“Put my name down on that card.
 
And Derek?”

“Yeah, Ralph?”

“If you ever get called for another case in my neck of the woods, just give me a call instead of sneaking round. Deal?”

“Thanks Ralph. And yes, we have a deal.”

He was cold. Frigid. He struggled to open his eyes, to move, but none of his muscles responded. His mind swayed from reason to confusion, never remaining in reason long enough for him to string together consecutive thoughts.

The voices he heard, muffled and distorted as they bounced inside what seemed to be a narrow space, could not be understood. He knew that the voices were speaking words, but the meaning of them failed to register.

He slipped again. Somewhere deeper and much darker. His realization returned but offered no solution. No identifiable signs indicating a way to escape the deepness. He felt like he was in a hole, long, narrow, and too smooth for a hand to steal a pulling grip.

He then felt movement, the cause of which was not from his own choice but from some outside force. The movement was brief and halted with a shuttering shake. Instantly, he felt warmth, flooding over his still unreachable body. It offered a hope. A chance to come to some understanding and knowing.
 
He thought the movement would offer an exit.

He imagined himself swimming in the cool waters of Piseco Lake, feeling the soft current wash over him. He knew that he still harbored the wish that he had taken the chance to swim that one day, so as to know what immersion would feel like. This feeling, now seen not as a dream but something foreboding, turned sour. It was cold, too cold, and was followed by pain, enhanced by his inability to prevent it’s directed march.

 
“Son of a bitch!” the medical examiner said. “We have a serious issue over here!”

The medical examiner stopped once the body’s chest cavity was fully opened, skin pulled back, and muscle tissue removed.

“Get someone down here, now!” she said to her assistant. “Now.”

I find the questions and comments I’ve received about this fictional book both amazing and curious. Several readers have connected with me on my Facebook author page,
https://www.facebook.com/authortpp
with questions that, for reasons known only to them, they felt more comfortable asking me in private. While I honestly enjoy hearing comments and constructive criticism, I have received a disturbing number of questions regarding the same topic. So I’d like to answer the most frequently asked questions here at the end of Heartless. I hope that you enjoy some of the questions as much as I did!

“I don’t think it’s realistic that someone could live without a heart or lungs. How can Alexander Black continue to live without these important organs?”
Heartless is a work of FICTION, meaning that it is not based on reality. I agree that living without a heart would present significant challenges.

“You wrote about the role genetics may have played in Alexander. Was his father also heartless?”
No, Alexander’s father was born with a heart. I created his character to be more allegorically heartless.

“Is Derek Cole a real private investigator?”
I’m sure that there is someone out in the world with the same name who may be a private investigator, but, again, this is a work of FICTION and any and all similarities with anyone, living or dead, is 100% coincidental.

“At the end, it seems that Alexander is still alive. Will he make a return in another Derek Cole book?”
Alexander Black is a huge mystery. From his birth to his time on the medical examiner’s table. Will he survive and live to continue his evil ways? Only Derek Cole knows for sure, and he isn’t talking to me since I had him get shot in the stomach. (Sorry Derek).

“When is the next Derek Cole book coming out?”
 
Those of the Margin, the second in the Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Series was released in October. However, it was released in error. It had not been professionally edited before the scheduled release date arrived. We left it up for nearly a full week, received over 5,000 downloads before we realized it was in rough shape. It is being edited now (editor found over 100 errors!), and will be released in November. “The Observer,” the third Derek Cole book, will be released in 2015. And, if I may be so bold, it is the best Cole series written (so far).

I write a lot. Always have. It’s not atypical for me to pound out 5,000 words in a single day. Since I was 11, I knew I wanted to be a novelist, but I had no idea how difficult it is to make your mark in the publishing industry. Beyond producing the best content I can, having thousands (millions) of people read my books and working with my creative team (editor, content editor, beta readers and marketing firm), the best way for a new author to gain some traction is via “Reader Reviews.”

The averages are disturbing: Less than 1% of people who buy a book, leave a review. But with Amazon, it’s very hard to get people to download a book unless it has 100 or so reviews.
 
A horrible catch 22. So on behalf of all my fellow authors out there, please take a minute or two to leave an helpful and honest review of Heartless and any other book you’ve read. It means a lot to me and to authors around the world.