Shattered by Death (A Jo Oliver Thriller Book 2) (16 page)

Scenes of Angela Murray’s office. Her chair pressing against a barren wall.
I was born for a storm, and the calm does not suit me.
All cylinders clicked at once. “The Jackson quote! That picture on the wall—it’s the same one that’s shown on the top of picture number four!”

Nick approached from the back, nodding his head.

“We were just there. Riverside. My mother’s a resident in the A.L. wing. There’s uh… there’s been some trouble there this week.”

“Evidently.” McCaskey was at it again. “Check this out.” He held up his cell phone, reading a report. “Riverside’s second-in-command just called dispatch. Apparently, Ms. Murray didn’t show up for work. It took them a while to notice her absence, because her car was in her usual parking spot and her calendar was filled with meetings. She’s not responding to any of her phones and it’s not like her.”

I looked down at my phone, read the same message, and moaned. “Oh no. Besides this woman maybe being taken, there’ve been indications of abuse. I have concerns about my own mother. Maybe our killer does, too. It looks like the killer’s taken the Riverside director.”

“I agree. But where? How long ago? How much time does she have left?” Nick pushed the podium to the side and stood in front of the whiteboard. He drew a rough outline of Paradise County and put four Xs in different locations, one just outside the northern border. One of the Xs was much bigger than the others. “Four bodies in three different locations. And Riverside is right in the middle of the kill zone. What’s the killer trying to tell us?”

“And what’s with the creepy photos?” McCaskey was on his feet, arms crossed. “Why start toying with us now? Why not start with the taunts earlier? What have we missed along the way?” He scratched his chin with a thick knuckle. “I mean, sledgehammer littering ain’t exactly subtle.”

“Right. But it
is
an unusually creative way to terrorize the Chief. Think about it—framing her for her husband’s murder, right off the bat.” Mitch remained silent on the girlfriend part.

“And the sonuva—” I was just getting warmed up when Nick cut me off.
In front of the guys. Talk about your disrespect.

“Each of the victims shares an intimate connection with the Chief.” Nick still held the red dry erase marker.

Intimate connection
? What was he thinking? I waited for snickers to roll around the room. There were none. Maybe it wasn’t noticeable. To a room full of detectives.
Yeah, right.
Another reason to think about making a different choice with Nick.
One of these days
.

Time to tune in. Nick was still droning on, with the occasional chirp from McCaskey. The rest of the staff in the room seemed fidgety, ready to hit the streets.

“You got any more enemies left, Chief?” McCaskey looked at me.

Nick picked up the thread without missing a beat. “Let’s put it another way, detective. Chief, if you were going to make a list of the people who might have the biggest ax to grind with you, who might that include? Think about it. Anyone out there you’ve arrested and thrown away that might still be harboring a grudge. Someone who could hate you enough to frame you for these murders? I was going to suggest the Mentor Sister Serial Killer, since he had accomplices. But he doesn’t fit. Who knows you well enough to be able to create a kill list that looks like it came right out of your darkest fantasies?”

My head swirled, and I waivered on my feet.

Besides Nick? Gino? Donna? Mitch? Who indeed?

Tension pinged off the walls. Most of the detectives broke into motion, some jumping to their feet, some throwing hands through their hair, others pulling out cell phones, notebooks, pens. The blood was in the water, and we were on the move. McCaskey lost no time reading between the lines. “Isn’t elder abuse one of the top ten issues for lawmakers on both sides of the aisle in DC and Springfield?”

Nick looked at me, ignoring McCaskey, and softening his tone. “And your mother’s gonna be fine, what with you visiting her as much as you do. Right down the hall from a decorated vet we all know and love who experienced a strange episode while we were talking to the head nurse not quite three hours ago. There was a look of…”

Nick paused.

I didn’t appreciate him answering for me. Between his open expression of our inner relationship, and his take-charge attitude, was this is the kind of man I wanted to let any closer to my heart? Was this sentiment an expression of my nerves? Or inner alert system kicking in? Why was I spending so much energy looking under non-existent rocks? Why couldn’t I relax into the idea of having this great guy in my life?
Three hours ago, I was ready to walk down the aisle with Nick, and now just being in the same room with him gives me the heebie-jeebies. What’s going on with me?

“’Tragedy’ is the word you’re looking for.” I’d never forget the look in Nick’s eyes. Time to take back control of this investigation. Again. And let the love thing sort itself out later.

“Yes, tragedy on his face. Even without this new twist, I’d want to go back and see what’s really going on. Something just isn’t right about that place. Elder abuse isn’t the only thing wrong down there.” He failed to mention the surveillance cameras he’d already installed that would let us do exactly that, remotely.

“What are you waiting for? Saddle up and ride out there.” God bless McCaskey for ignoring Nick and directing all attention to me again. Could I get him to join me for any future near-dates with Nick? To make sure I behaved myself.

“Alright, Nick, Gino and I are heading back to Riverside.” A game plan formed.

Mitch stepped in before I could send out my teams. “I know you want to go back and check on your mom, and nobody’s going to bring the passion to the table in tracking this director better than you right now. So go check on your mom while you interview folks out there. Two birds, one stone. You’ve given these muscle heads enough to do.”

“Thanks.” I nodded to Nick and Gino, and the three of us turned and headed out of the bullpen toward the parking lot exit. “Let’s hit it, gentlemen.”

Nick wedged himself in between Gino and me and slid his arm around my waist. I shrugged it off. “Gino and I are going to ride back to Riverside. I need you to follow up with your hotsy-totsy bad boy predictor program and add this new vic ID.” It wouldn’t change anything, but it sounded good.
Didn’t it?
If nothing else, it was a face-saving way for Nick to hit the road and give me some breathing room.

He got the hint. He stared at me coolly for several seconds and then turned on his heel and headed toward his car, waving goodbye as he walked away in silence.

This would give me a good reason to dump all my irrational fears of commitment out on the dashboard for Gino to dissect and reassemble on our way.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “
Es cierto
that we have much to discuss.”

I managed a snort and a nod. “Let’s just put it this way, my friend—I wouldn’t mind a little friendly advice on the Nick front.”

Gino was a master at figuring stuff out, especially with matters of the heart. But back to the case, I was interested in anything that could get us any closer to saving someone’s life—even if, in my own personal economy, I didn’t think they deserved saving. “Plus, I’m looking forward to hearing more about your new geo-locator toy.”

“If only you were half as eager to spend time on spiritual matters.” Gino grinned at me.

“Well, let’s hope I’m in the mood for that, too.” I’d been struggling with the concept of God being present in my life when it just kept going straight down the toilet. I knew God loved me and had a plan for my life, but I just wasn’t seeing how His goodness was reflected in the crap conditions I’d been served up ever since He came into my life. Gino had been trying to talk to me about trusting God in the midst of my circumstances, but I’d been avoiding the subject. It’d be more refreshing to talk about another business success in the colorful life of one of my dearest friends.

Gino must’ve been making some serious bank on this one. You’d never know it by looking at him, though. He kept most everything he did on the down-low. Except for his faith, and his choice of hot little sports cars, of course. And then there were his stories of a host of orphanages, schools, and church plants all over the world he seemed to bankroll single-handedly. Would it kill a guy to talk a little more about killer-hunting technology and a little less about suffering for Jesus?

Much as I respected him for his habitual self-sacrifice on behalf of others, I was dying of curiosity about his professional world. But Gino had his own timetable. His stories included what he thought I needed most, when he thought I was most open to hearing it. More often than not, his twenty-first century espionage skills took a back seat to the gospel.
Fair enough.
First things first.

Gino led the way to his black SUV. He’d had it tricked out with lots of security features, most of which were borderline legal in this or any other country. When would I have time to have him walk me through the special upgrades?

He held the passenger door open for me. “Señora?”

I air-kissed his cheeks and got in, smiling. He headed us back down Highway 120, well-acquainted with the route. Gino was my mother’s most gracious and patient visitor. It must’ve irked him to think there had been something going on under our noses for quite some time. It sure bugged the heck out of me.

“You must tell me all that is going on between you and your good saint Nicolas. He remains as handsome as ever, and yet you seem to have grown a little cold. Why is this so?” Gino doubled down on his accent.

Must’ve been gearing up for a real good lecture. One I’d just as soon miss.
Fat chance.
“I can’t have him coddling me in front of the guys, for one. Heck, I can’t have him coddling me period. I mean, I get it. I do. There’s a lot of crap going down in all directions, but I like to think I handled it all alright before he came along, and that I’ll handle it all just fine the day he drifts off in the middle of the night.”

“Ah. That is the whole enchilada,
m’hija. Tienes miedo.”

“No, I’m not! I’m not afraid. I’d call it more a low-grade, ever-present annoyance. But if I was, what would I be afraid of?”

“Death. Death by falling in love, having to trust a man again, of having to dive in and see whether or not his arms are strong enough to support you both.” Gino slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

“But what if what I need right now is a little time alone? Fewer arms, more solitude? I don’t know if I want to jump into a relationship with Nick right now, G—it’s too soon. I don’t even know who I am anymore. With Nick or without him. With Del or without him. I just don’t know.”

“That is why you must seek the Lord in prayer. He will lead you, but you must go to Him first. He wants nothing more than for you to delight yourself in Him.” Gino was on a roll.

“But if I can’t trust a man, how can I possibly trust God?”
There it is.

“M’hija.
God loves you. And He is not a man. He will never break His promises. He is the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. And I believe His plan for you will include the perfect man for you. Maybe even an Italian.” He winked.

“So, that’s what? A push in the Nick direction? Again, not so fast, not so sure. And please don’t get me started on the will of God. I’ve been praying and asking Him for guidance. I swear I have. So far, I got nothin’. All I know is, I’m on edge. Seems like it’s time for me to make a decision. And I’m leaning toward taking a break from Nick.” The last row of cornfields flew past us. We’d be at my mom’s very soon.

A slight smile crept across Gino’s face. His profile was regal and uncompromising, like my father. When was the last time my father had even called my mother? He knew she was here.

My father was a multi-decorated vet and something of a rogue himself. He and Mike McCaskey had served our country with distinction, earning their Purple Hearts in concert. One-time foxhole buddies, now my father was in a retirement community in another state, and McCaskey was working for me. As far as I knew, they hadn’t spoken for thirty years.

And all the Purple Hearts in the world didn’t seem to matter to either of them now.

As we pulled into the parking lot of Riverside, I pushed my maudlin thoughts aside and turned to look at Gino.

“I guess I just need to know that I can live this life alone and be happy. Thrive and not just survive, even if it means I go it alone for the rest of the journey. And what about Sam? Shouldn’t I make sure I can handle the whole motherhood thing solo before adding a man to the equation? Having Nick front and center just muddies the waters for me right now. Keeps me believing the fantasy that I need someone else to make me complete—that focusing on Nick is enough to keep me happy. And it’s not, G.” I looked down at my hands. My voice had grown quiet.

“That is a good thing,
m’hija.
A very good thing. For only God can take that rightful place on the throne of your life, and He will not give it to another. Not even one as handsome as our Nick. Perhaps God is calling you to give Nick and your marital status over to Him, to lay them both like a sacrifice at the foot of the cross.
Amada
, God is bigger than your divorce.” Gino’s voice was strong, rich, Columbian, full-bodied coffee after a month of freeze-dried decaf.

The audio screen on the console lit up with three life changing letters: SAM. Gino’s Bluetooth automatically connected with my phone whenever we were in his truck. Another advantage of having a techno-geek for a friend.

I pressed the button to accept her call.

“Hello, darling girl!” Joy warmed my voice.

“Josie! I miss you! Where are you?” Samantha’s girlish trilling rang throughout the car.

Gino turned to me and smiled. I nodded.

“
Como estas tu? Un abrazo fuerte de Tio Gino para ti, Carina.”

“Tio Gino! When are you coming to see me?” Sam’s excitement warmed my soul. I winced at her question.

“Very soon,
bonita
. And I will have a little
regalo
for you.”

“I love you, Sam. And I can’t wait to see you again… very soon. Uncle G and I are in the middle of a big investigation. When it’s over, we’ll both come and give you the biggest hugs ever.” I kept my tone upbeat.

“And a
regalo
?”

“
Si, bonita
!” Gino reached over and gave my hand a squeeze.

“When?” A hint of a whine from the bravest little girl I knew.

“Soon, sweetheart. Soon.” My fingers caressed the volume button.

“Okay. Gotta go! I love you,
Tio
! I love you, Josie! Bye!” Sam ended the call, breathless and happy sounding.

Gino glanced at me. “You two are perfection itself together. You know this,
verdad
?”

“I do. It’s just, I worry all the time. I love her, and I can’t wait to have her in my life—in my arms, in my home—full-time. But I’m scared to death. And I don’t even know what to do with Nick in the midst of all of this. Does he even want to be a father? Will having him around while I sort out my own crazy feelings just confuse her? I don’t know, G.” I shook my head, trying to get in front of the pressure building behind my temples. A remnant of yesterday’s migraine? I hoped not.

“What we do know,
m’hija
, is that God has placed both Samantha and Nick in your life for a reason, and He is bigger than your fears.”

“Here’s hoping He’s also bigger than this psycho. Let’s go in there and figure out where she’s taken Angela Murray.” I opened my door and was about to spin out of the seat when Gino’s paw found my shoulder.

“Let us do more than hope.” Gino took my hand in his, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, we come before Thee, begging Thy divine intervention as we come to this place in Thy holy name to do Thy work. We love Thee,
Dios todo poderoso
. And we pray that Thy love would cover Miss Angela as we seek her. Please protect her from the power of the evil one who has snatched her away from here, and give us wisdom and direction that we might find her before it’s too late. Amen.” He squeezed my hand and then dropped it.

I stepped out of the truck and into the pathway leading to the front entrance. Gino hesitated in the parking lot. “What’s up, G? What are you looking at?”

“Is this not the place she would park?” He was staring at a blue and white sign reading “Director” and the blue sedan parked in front of it. “And is this not her car? Perhaps we should learn how long the car has been here. There are exterior cameras.” Gino pointed to the gutters.

Small bubble cameras were mounted at consistent intervals along the roofline. Could it be that simple?
No way.
They couldn’t have been operational when the killer had come for Angela. That would be too easy.