Read Provoked Online

Authors: Angela Ford

Provoked (17 page)

              The Tatra mountainous climate was cold due to high altitude, with much precipitation. They produced superb ski conditions for most of the year, but the temperature could change drastically with fierce rainstorms or snowstorms.

             
 
Basia recollected that cold winter night. T
he temperature reached below zero, and the wind chill made it feel more like minus thirty-five. She couldn’t sleep and lay on the sofa, in the dark, waiting for him to get up for their hike. She didn’t know whether she shook from the cold winter night or from what she was about to do.

              She heard him get up for a drink in the middle of the night. She hadn’t slept; hadn’t moved. Wrapped in a blanket like a mummy, she’d shivered uncontrollably. Basia remembered pulling the blanket further up her face and closing her eyes. She pretended to be asleep. She prayed he wouldn’t disturb her, tear the blanket from her, and demand sexual favors. The smell of his cologne hit her nostrils. Her eyes remained closed, but she could sense him lurking in the dark to where she laid on the sofa. Basia listened to his footsteps walk down the hall toward the kitchen. She lay still, frozen in time.

              It seemed like an eternity before he went back to bed. Basia knew he’d purposely opened the front closet by the sound of the creaky hinge that he never got around to fixing. The rattle of a hanger swinging against the closet wall, and the sound of boots hitting the floor disturbed her, but her eyes remained shut. He purposely made noise in an attempt to stir her from her sleep. Frozen still, she refused to open her eyes. He coughed and then sighed loudly. Finally the sound of his footsteps disappeared. He’d gone back to bed.
Thank God, I don’t have to sleep with him one more time.
The thought of him groping her all week had sickened her. But she’d kept him quiet and peaceful. There had been no more outbursts since she’d played the perfect wifey he wanted. It was a game to him. One he wanted to win. Brainwashed to play his game; his game of control. One he was about to lose.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

              “Briggs, you’re going to want to see this.”

              Riley lifted his head out of the hands and turned his head. Kennedy spoke from the top of the stairs. He motioned for Riley to come upstairs. Riley’s hope for a lead made him take two steps at a time. He saw Kennedy enter the bedroom. The CSI team had since arrived and dusted for prints. They were in the bedroom when Riley walked in. One was holding the hiking rope in a gloved hand. The rope was tied to the bedpost. Riley wondered if Darek had hurt her. Kennedy patted Riley on the shoulder.

              “I don’t believe this was a sexual attack. The rope is tied at the bottom post near the floor?”

              Riley thought Kennedy had a good point, and it didn’t necessarily mean that it had been Basia tied to the post. Officer Morris was still missing.

              “Dust the rope and post for prints,” Kennedy requested to the CSI officer and turned to Riley.

              “We don’t have anything yet that proves Darek was here and took Basia.”

Riley nodded but his gut told him differently. He knew the bastard had her. He wondered how he entered and asked Kennedy. “How did he get in and out of the building without being noticed?”

              “He may have already been here. You and Basia were at the hotel, then the hospital all night. Maybe he slipped in last night.”

              Riley called Mark’s number in the lobby and asked if he could search the surveillance camera for the past twenty-four hours. Kennedy could be right, but Riley wasn’t certain. He walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Kennedy followed him.

              Riley went out the door and into the hallway. He stopped and looked up and down the hall. Kennedy watched him without a word. Riley announced that Mark mentioned the only route the tenants take is the front door or the underground garage. He motioned for Kennedy to take the elevator to the garage and check it out. Riley said he’d head down the staircase. Basia’s apartment was the last one on the floor, the door next to hers—the back staircase. Riley took notice that the elevator was about halfway down the hall on the opposite side. There were only two ways to get in and out of Basia’s. Riley’s gut was the back staircase. Kennedy stepped into the elevator and Riley opened the stairwell door. He made his way to the bottom and ended up in the parking garage.  He saw Kennedy get out of the elevator and he waved him over. Riley saw it—the exit door to the left of the staircase door. Riley pushed it open and looked out into the alley. He stepped outside and the door closed. He noticed there wasn’t a door handle, which made sense for an exit door. But Riley looked a little closer and noticed the door hadn’t completely closed. He looked up and saw that the corner of the door had something attached to it that prevented it from closing. Riley reached up and grasped what he believed to be rope. It felt like the same rope that they found in Basia’s bedroom. He pulled on it and the door opened. Riley smiled at Kennedy, who was just about to open the door for him.

              “Clever bastard.” Riley’s eyes travelled to the rope.

              “Looks like he kept it there with a hook in the top edge of the door and left the outside piece long enough to grab onto to open the door.”

              Kennedy put a pair of gloves on and took out an evidence bag from his pocket. He grabbed the rope, jimmied it out of its hook, and placed it in the bag. “We may be able to lift prints, but do we even have a set of prints from Darek to even match?”  Riley shook his head. There’d been prints lifted at the murders that were not the tenants’ or Adam’s. The prints hadn’t matched any in the system, but he was certain they were Darek’s.

              Riley turned when he heard a sound come from the alley. It sounded like a groan. He motioned to Kennedy he’d check it out. Riley heard it again once he hit the dumpster.

              “Morris,” he called out and heard another groan with a confirmation he was there.

Riley looked inside the dumpster and there was Morris. He reached in and helped Morris climb out. Riley hollered to Kennedy to call for medical.

              “Are you hurt?” Riley checked Morris over quickly. He didn’t see any visible gunshot or knife wounds. The officer reached up and touched his head. The darkened alley made it difficult but Riley was certain he saw blood.

              “Were you hit on the head?” Riley asked and he nodded. He informed the officer that medical attention had been called. “Sorry, Briggs, he was already in the apartment when we arrived. I went in first to do a check before I allowed Lieutenant Lis to enter. I told her to wait by the hallway. I was just about finished and thought I had a clear check when I felt something hit my head. When I came to, he’d duct taped my mouth and tied my wrists behind my back. Then Basia came in the room with her gun drawn. He threatened to slice my throat if she didn’t give up her gun. He made her tie me to the bedpost while he reminisced about their so-called love. That man is one sick bastard, Briggs.”

Riley nodded in agreement.

              “That I already know. This isn’t your fault, Morris. This bastard seems to be one step ahead of us. It’s time we get a step ahead of him.”

Riley looked up when he heard Kennedy’s remark.

              “Where the hell do we start? We have no idea where he would have taken her!”               Riley’s emotions had turned into panic. He couldn’t focus. All he could think about was whether Basia was hurt—or alive. Riley paced in the alley. Kennedy followed him. He told Riley he understood the matter at hand was personal and emotions were involved, but he had to start thinking like a cop. A heavy sigh came from Riley. He knew Kennedy was right. If he planned on saving Basia, he had to put aside his personal feelings. Adam came to mind. He remembered asking for his help. Adam Crawford was the only link to Darek Bernard. Riley smiled. His homicidal mind was back in action. His love for Basia interfered and fogged the tools he had.

              “Adam.”

              “What about him?” Kennedy asked.

              “He’s our only connection to Darek. Adam should have Darek’s cell number.”

Kennedy and Riley waited for the paramedics to arrive, and then left for the precinct. Adam’s phone would be in evidence.

              “I believe Darek took Basia’s car, but he must have had a rental registered since he’s been following us. It’s time we track him.”

Kennedy placed a call to check all rental car companies that registered a Darek Bernard. An APB was already in place for Basia’s car.

                                                                                    ****

 

              “Pack a bag and don’t forget your passport,” Darek demanded.

              “I’m not going anywhere with you. If you want to kill me, go ahead.”

              Basia stood closer to him. She wasn’t about to give in to his demands. Not again. She obeyed him before, when she thought she played him, so she could kill him. Darek grabbed her arm. His grip only reminded her of his abuse in Poland. She felt the burn beneath his fingers and the threat in his eyes. She ignored the memories both brought back. The memories of the nightmare she’d lived in before with him.

              “You’re still my wife and you’re going to obey me. We’re going home.”

              Darek picked up her gun and held it to the officer’s head.

              “Pack the damn bag, Basia, or else.”

              She knew there was no reasoning with him. His threat forced her to change her mind. She opened a drawer and pulled out her passport, and she shoved it in her pocket without him seeing it.
The fake passport will stop him at the airport when he gives them their real names.
She had to play along with him for the sake of Officer Morris’ life. She heard Darek ramble about the mountains to Morris.

              “It’s such a pity that death happens all the time in our beautiful mountains. I mean, you can go out hiking on a sunny morning, but then a storm strikes, and you fall down a cliff from a trail that even a child could navigate when the weather is good. The deaths that occur in these beautiful, dangerous mountains are far more common than one imagines. The sheer rugged stone of our mountains is what brings the tourists, but it’s also what makes them so hazardous. Some people can be so ignorant of this. Then again, it’s very helpful for the conspiracy to murder someone. Isn’t that right,
Basia
?”

              He placed extra stress in his sarcastic question to her. She continued to pack her bag and ignored him. Darek turned back to Morris and continued, while he held the gun to his head.

              “But the danger continues to go largely unnoticed and people die, especially for one to fall one hundred meters down a cliff. I was almost another casualty of the Tatras, at the hands of my darling wife. Though I do commend her on a brilliant plan, the thallium, I mean. I had just planned on the storm to kick in and let her fall to her death. She made it so much more exciting. I underestimated my darling.”

              Basia made a slight sound from her throat.

              “What was that you said
Moja kochana
? You agree?”

She didn’t comment and he continued with his story.

              “I remember your father’s teachings when I first began to guide under him. He told us that people did not realize that the mountains cover a relatively small area when compared to the Alps, but are not as high. They think they can go out less prepared than they would in the Alps. They don’t believe anything bad happens. If they only did their research before they planned to hike. For those who don’t, it can be a fatal mistake. Their worst enemy is the volatile weather at the high elevations. Sunshine one minute—a blizzard the next, and it doesn’t matter if you hike in the summer months. Such dangerous weather changes should alarm hikers, but they have that false sense of security because there are no glaciers. Without the permanent ice, they believe they do not have to be as prepared as they would hike other mountains. All the wise advice your father gave us, Basia, and we seemed to use it against each other.”

              Darek looked down at Officer Morris.

              “That is what my darling wife wanted officer, a sudden explosion of bad weather on that sunny morning, not long after she believed she had poisoned me with this thallium.”

              Darek reached in to his pocket and pulled out the vial of thallium he’d carried since that day. Basia knew that vial was filled with the thallium she’d had for his coffee, but then she wondered how he would have obtained the thallium he’d used to murder the tenants at the brownstone.

              “How did you obtain thallium? Did you even know where to get it?”

Darek smiled. “I stole it from you, Basia.”

              “That’s not what I meant. Where did you get the thallium you used on the tenants from the brownstone?”

              Basia confidently stepped closer to him. It just hit her that he couldn’t have worked alone. He’s not smart enough. He may know the mountains like the back of his hand, but he’d never survive in a lab with her. Darek’s grin told her she’d been right with that thought.

              “Does it matter, darling?”

              “Yes, it does.” She didn’t elaborate with her answer. Darek laughed.

              “Well, if you must know, it was your college friend; the one who helped me after my fall from the cliff. She’s as beautiful and smart as you, Basia. But to make the deal sweeter, she’s a friend of yours. Or an old college buddy, shall we say, because your choices of friends are low-life-drug users, who blame their men for their faults.”

              Basia stopped.
Friend...College buddy,
Basia repeated the words Darek said. She raised her hand to her mouth and gasped. Darek grinned. Sick bastard seemed quite proud of himself and elaborated.

              “She despises you as much as I do, darling. We have a common goal--to eliminate you. You’ve taken from us both. I want my money and guide business. You took the lovers she’d wanted. You apparently believe you should have it all, whether you push aside your husband or your friend. We met when she came to Poland. At first she’d been shocked of my plan to kill you. But then I told her about the size of your inheritance. She agreed we both deserved to take something from you. But when I came to New York; I discovered you had a life. It was too easy to just kill you. I wanted you to suffer first. My new friend took care of the supply, and I took care of the dirty work. It’s been a beautiful partnership.”

It sickened her to listen to him. If he had it all figured out, she wondered why he involved Adam Crawford.

              “What about Adam?” 

              “That weasel. He’s like insurance so we’d get away with it. He actually wanted to take the fall for the murders so his book will sell. He isn’t very bright.”

              Darek’s cocky laugh only made Basia fume. He moved the vial back and forth and watched it intensely and then looked at Morris.

              “This one is special. I have kept this one for my darling wife. You know, Officer; this is the thallium I retrieved from her purse. The poison she’d intended on using in my coffee that morning before we began our hike. But I’d found it and was a step ahead of her. At first, I thought I would add it to her coffee that morning, but that would have been too easy. I needed her to suffer for her actions. You know, she isn’t as sweet as you think she is.”

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