The Harvest Club (17 page)

Read The Harvest Club Online

Authors: Iona Morrison

Tags: #romance, #Fantasy, #ghost, #murder, #mystery

“What are we talking about then?”

“He is just the tip of the iceberg, and that scares the hell out me.”

Matt turned on the TV while Dylan caught a little shut eye, and then around two-thirty it was Matt’s turn. By the time Jessie’s alarm went off at seven-thirty, both of the guys were gone.

****

Jessie wondered, as she dressed for church, if she would ever feel safe again. Even with the two guys here last night, she had awakened several times through the night. She didn’t like this cat and mouse game. Closure would only come from knowing who’d killed Gina and why. Matt wasn’t helping, either. This new Matt was hard to handle. One minute he was lecturing her, and the next he looked like he wanted to kiss her.

The church service was pleasant, the people were all sympathetic to each other, and Pastor Mark did a great job. He actually sounded the way a pastor should. After the service, Jessie said hello to Andria and told her she had given Gina’s letter to the police. Reba was the next to get a hold of her.

“Jessie, dear, are you doing okay?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“I had the strangest dream last night. It was about a large man, crashing through trees. He kept yelling strike one, which hardly makes sense.” She patted Jessie’s hand. “Unlike his prediction, I don’t believe for a minute strike three will be the end for you. Maybe for him, but not you. He’s only the distraction.”

How did she know these things, Jessie wondered. When everything was over, she would have to sit down with Reba and let her know how much she had gotten right.

She walked out the church doors into a glorious day. A nice breeze from the ocean kept it from being too hot. Just once, she would like to enjoy the beauty of her surroundings without worrying about what was waiting around the next corner.

Chapter Seventeen

Jessie picked up another of the great chicken salad sandwiches from Java Joe’s and headed home. She changed into shorts, a T-shirt and sandals. She left a message for Pam Bradley to let her know she was sending a copy of part one of Gina’s story to them.


Please feel free to make any changes, deletions, or let me know any additional items that you would like to see included in the story.

She got some iced tea from the kitchen and sat down at her computer to read her emails and eat lunch. She really did like Joe’s chicken salad.

I can’t believe I’m thinking about chicken salad. She laughed at herself. Shouldn’t she be considering deeper things with everything else going on in her life? It showed how crazy she was or how resilient. Life still goes on even in the face of fear, she thought.

She noticed an email from Jeremy saying he would call her after five and maybe she should have someone from the police department there.

Jessie finished lunch and decided to go outside and sit in the sun. She would call Matt in a little while, but for now, in this moment, she wanted a little peace and quiet. She didn’t want to read her book, which was a murder mystery. Why read it when she was living it? The warm sunshine made her drowsy. She closed her eyes, and her last thought was that she needed to get Matt to come at five if he could make it.

****

Jessie jumped as Matt touched her shoulder. “Jess, what in the hell are you doing? I’ve been calling you for the last hour and a half.” He glared down at her. “I didn’t know what to think. Your doors are unlocked and you’re sleeping outside; could you give this guy a bigger invitation?”

“I came out here to enjoy the warmth. It was so peaceful, and I must have fallen asleep.” She stammered the words out, still groggy.

“Why isn’t your phone with you?” The muscle in his jaw flexed. “In case you haven’t noticed, the sky is dark. There’s a storm building.”

As if on cue, a clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. “I’m sorry I worried you.” She returned his glare, wide awake now. “I didn’t know when I sat down that I would fall asleep. I was going to get my phone and call you to see if you would come earlier. Jeremy is going to call at five and said I should have someone from the police department here. I guess the warm sunshine and peace was a sleep inducer.”

Matt wasn’t finished yet. “What if the guy that was outside your house last night had come back today and found you like I just did? Geez, Jess, I can’t imagine what he’s capable of.” He scanned her face. “We’re going to talk about this again.” He kept his voice even. “Keep me in the loop, keep your phone with you at all times, and need I add, no sleeping outside, leaving doors unlocked, or giving an open invitation to a criminal.”

She straightened in her chair. “If you think…”

He put his fingers to her mouth to silence her. “The thing is, you
weren’t
thinking or you wouldn’t be out here like this. You know I’m right, Jess.”

“Point taken.” She raised her hand in a conciliatory gesture.

He was right, she hadn’t been thinking. She was overwhelmed by too many events to manage. There must be a way to process this sanely. Fear started to grip her. How could she possibly control the whole mess? She was dealing with some kind of white collar crime syndicate, a ghost, an intruder, and threats on her life. All she wanted to do is sleep and forget about it.

His voice eased her budding panic. “It’ll be okay. We’ll manage this together with the help of a whole lot of people. But, and this is important, Jess, you can’t do things this stupid. You’re strong, but you’re not invincible.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“I’ll try not to lecture you if you try to use the astuteness that I know you are capable of. Truce…” He extended his hand to shake hers.

“Truce…” She took his extended hand.

He held on to it, liking the feel of it in his. “What were you saying about Jeremy?”

“He’s calling at five and told me to have someone from the police here. Put simply, he’s found something too important to put in an email.”

“Do you have something we can make for dinner? I might as well hang out here until he calls. It’s my night to see you tucked in and shut up tight.”

“I have plenty of food. We could barbeque some chicken if the rain holds off, or I can bake it in the oven,” Jessie answered. She slipped her hand out of his and walked inside.

Matt turned on the TV to watch the Yankees play, and Jessie answered emails, talked to her parents, and her grandma Sadie. Then she went into the kitchen, put the chicken into the oven, along with two potatoes. She put together a fresh salad with raisins, sunflower seeds, green onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, and avocado and put it in the fridge to chill.

To an outsider it might look like a very domestic Sunday afternoon scene. But to one dark figure, it meant he had to wait another day.

****

He had been just a little too late getting there. If he hadn’t stopped for the hamburgers...oh well, he was a patient man. He would officially give the second strike before his boss returned.

He had gotten there just in time to see her sleeping so peacefully, unaware that he was less than a hundred feet away crouched behind the tree. She was pretty. He almost hated to mess up her face. Almost. He grinned. He would do it and relish the job. It would have been done now, but the cop had come around the corner. He was hanging out at her place a lot lately. He wondered if she was the cop’s woman. It would make it even better, because his boss wanted him gone, too.

The dark clouds started producing a gentle rain. The droplets trickled through the leaves on the tree, splashing his face. Maybe there would be more money in it for him, a bonus of sorts for wounding two with one punch so to say. He smiled with smug satisfaction at his own pun and watched the two of them for a few more moments, not minding the rain, before he slunk back the way he had come.

Chapter Eighteen

Jeremy’s call came promptly at five, and Jessie put it on speaker as soon as she told him Matt Parker was there, and he was the officer in charge of the investigation.

“First, I have to say this is a pretty big operation with some fairly well-known individuals. They have an elaborate technical monitoring device protecting their information, and they’re good, but I’m even better.” Jeremy’s voice came through the speaker clearly. “And as you know, I taught you all I know about encryption bypass,” he added. “Someone who isn’t familiar with firewalls could inadvertently trip their warning devices and be known instantly to have been an unwelcome visitor in their information.”

“Maybe that’s what happened to Gina.” Jessie winced.

“I’m glad you called me and didn’t attempt this yourself. Anyway, I found two streams of money that went to all the accounts. Most of the ones you named seem to be the small fish. They’re the buyers in the organization.”

“What is their primary function in the organization?” Matt’s hand curled into a fist.

“They visit the countries and arrange to buy organs through brokers from the sellers in that country.”

“Who are the sellers?” Jessie wrote down notes as Jeremy talked.

“The sellers may be people selling their own organs or a person selling kidneys taken from someone without their permission.”

“So basically, they could buy anyone’s kidneys.” Matt was angry.

“Yeah…It used to be that a kidney had to come from a close relative, but now because of anti-rejection drugs, that is no longer necessary. Buyers can get a kidney from anyone, anywhere.
Unscrupulous as that sounds, what’s worse in the black market buyers mart, a kidney taken from a living donor will keep a person alive twice as long as one taken from a cadaver, so it’s worth more money.”

Jessie frowned. “Now that’s just sick.”

“That’s probably what this trip to India is all about.” Jessie saw Matt’s jaw flex and knew he was angry.

“Yes, and I’m sure there are a few brokers intermingled in the group to watch over their clients’ interests. There are a lot of people living in the slums willing to sell their own or someone else’s organs. And, believe me, there is always someone here trying to buy one for a
family member, and they are willing to pay.” Jeremy paused.

“Whether by accident or design, some top surgeons in three hospitals that I tracked have been transplanting black market kidneys from residents of some of the world’s most impoverished slums into some of the world’s wealthiest failing bodies of dialysis patients.”

“How do you figure that?” Matt asked.

“The story is all in the money. For about $100,000 to $150,000, a broker will connect buyers and sellers and guide them to broker-friendly hospitals. I traced the flow here to three hospitals and transplant teams.”

“This is unbelievable.” Jessie shook her head.

“Here’s the kicker—you mentioned clergy and a rabbi. Brokers often pose as clergy to accompany their clients to the hospital to ensure the process goes well. It makes it all appear above board. It seems to me these men are going to broker and buy organs to bring back and sell to their clients. Some goodwill tour, huh?”

“So where is the money coming from?” Matt frowned.

“The brokers and buyers are getting paid from the hospitals. Clients and some other sources are giving the brokers money to buy the organs. I would say, and this is my opinion only, Brad is a buyer, along with your mayor and city councilman. The pastor, rabbi, and most of the clergy are brokers. They get paid larger pay-outs for a single transaction. Although, Brad got a hundred thousand, I notice a couple of dates for that. Still $30,000 to $50,000 is nothing to sneeze at.”

“Who is the other source?” Jessie asked


The other source is one of the pharmaceutical companies that market the anti-rejection drugs. With the long wait lists for transplants and the very rich who get promoted to the head of the lists, it’s easy to understand how about one-fifth of the seventy thousand kidney transplants world-wide every year come from the black market, and then the drugs are needed for the rest of that individual’s life. It makes for big money all around.”

“Is there any way we can prove any of this or get any convictions?” Matt asked.

“In my opinion, the hospitals are safe and so is the pharmaceutical company. They’ll be able to say the money was given to promote research, and because the hospital is helping patients, they’ll claim they thought the donors were legitimate. However, you’ll be able to get the brokers and the buyers and stop this black market ring. I’m sure there will always be more willing to take their places. One of these guys is the head of this ring. I’m not sure yet who.” He paused to take a deep breath and then added, “The money is a major draw. Hopefully in the process of rounding up this group, you’ll find the murderer you’re looking for. Oh and by the way, Jessie, the letters HC are the initials in the name of their group. They call themselves the Harvest Club.”

“It’s a fitting name,” Matt said sarcastically.

“Jeremy, how can I ever thank you?” Jessie asked.

“You can come to New York or, better yet, you can ask me to your place and feed me dinner. I’ll keep looking. I know the head guy will surface. Talk to you later, Jessie, and be safe.”

“You have an open invitation. See you soon.” She let out a deep breath.

“From the moment I saw Gina’s body, my gut told me it had to do with organ trafficking.” Matt started pacing. “You helped push the case along when you got the information from their bank accounts, and bringing Jeremy into this was brilliant.”

“So what happens next? Will you arrest them when they get back?”

“No, the long process of building a case against these guys begins.” He paused to look at her, and then resumed his pacing. “It must be meticulous, thorough, and well documented.”

“Sounds like what Neil demanded of me.”

He nodded and grinned. “What’s needed is admissible evidence that won’t be thrown out because we didn’t do our job right. We could bring some of them in for questioning, hoping someone will crack, but these guys have been pretty good about covering their tracks up to now. Murdering Gina may have been their one real mistake.”

Jessie went to the kitchen to check on dinner. Everything was ready so she set the table. Lightning lit up the room, and the thunder boomed close on its heels. The gentle rain turned to a real gully washer in a matter of a few minutes. She was glad she had opted to bake the chicken.

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