Chapter Eighteen

 

Jack followed Gemma inside The Pink Kitty. Daylight exposed all its flaws and defects. The owner of the place clearly didn’t see the need to invest in the business.

Canned music echoed through the speakers, a soft melody that didn’t interfere with the guy snoozing in the corner or the one with three empty glasses in front of him, working his way through another. Neither guy was Moretti or Jack’s so-called twin.

Gemma pulled herself up onto the tall bar stool. Her fingers tapped a rhythm on the counter. No one manned the space behind. “He’s probably in the back,” she said.

A topless waitress with straw-colored hair that hung to her shoulders came up to the counter on the other side of Gemma with a tray loaded with three empty glasses. Gemma shifted in her seat and Jack noted the slight pink tinge to her cheeks.

Gemma might act worldly and project the air of the intrepid reporter, but she really wasn’t as comfortable with it as she made out.

Jack pulled out his badge and flashed it at the woman. “Have you seen Lenny?”

She flicked a look at his badge, her expression giving nothing away. “Hey, Lenny,” she shouted towards a door set at the end of the bar. “Some people here to see you.”

“Thanks,” Gemma said.

“Forget it,” the waitress said and moved away.

The door at the back opened and Lenny sauntered out with a cocky swagger that made Jack want to wipe the floor with him. The guy oozed slime. When Lenny’s step faltered upon seeing him, Jack smiled but there wasn’t an ounce of friendliness behind it.

“Whaddya want?” Lenny’s sneering tone only affirmed Jack’s opinion of the guy.

“Where’ve you been, Lenny? We wanted to talk to you, but you gave up your shift.” Jack drummed his fingers on the counter top.

Lenny threw a towel over his shoulder. “This is a bar. You want to talk, you got to order something. House rules.”

“I’ll take a cola, diet if you have it,” Gemma ordered.

“Water,” Jack said.

Lenny took his time as he got them their drinks. His features appeared tight and his movements were jerky. He delivered their drinks, pulled the towel off his shoulder, and began wiping the counter’s surface.

“So, why’d you miss your shift, Lenny?”

“None of your business,” Lenny said, not missing a beat or a spot.

Jack moved the water glass out of his way, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and leaned on the bar. “Wrong answer, Lenny. You can tell me here or we can take it downtown.” He hit the button on his phone and swiped the screen to bring up the main menu.

Gemma sipped from the straw in her cola, her gaze bouncing between the two of them.

“Put it away,” Lenny said. He stopped wiping and leaned on both hands. “I drove over to Albany to see a buddy.”

Jack pulled out his notebook. “What buddy? I’ll need a name and address.” Lenny let off a few curses, but eventually coughed up the name. Jack wrote it down. He’d get someone to check on it.

Gemma glanced over at him and he nodded. She drew the photo out of her bag and laid it on the bar’s surface. “Lenny, have you seen any of the people in this photo?”

Lenny shifted into smarmy guy on the make when Gemma talked to him. He wiped a hand over his hair and thrust out his chest. Gemma bit down on her lip and she looked away. Clearly a woman with discerning taste.

Lenny pressed up against the bar, his cologne blasting over them. He must bathe in the stuff. Jack took a step back from the bar. Gemma tried to lean back, but any farther and she’d fall off her stool.

Lenny pointed one index finger at the picture. “This here guy is him,” he said, nodding his head towards Jack.

“Yeah?” Gemma said. “So, when was he last in here?”

Lenny looked at her in confusion. “You putting me on? He was here the other day with you.” His brows lowered and he scowled. “It’s because of you two that Candy’s in bad shape.”

“And maybe it’s because of you that Candy’s in bad shape,” Jack accused softly.

Lenny practically leaped back from the bar, both hands up, palms out. “Hey, I had nothing to do with that, so lay off.”

Jack held up his notebook. “You’d better hope your buddy alibis you then.”

“Lenny,” Gemma called, getting his attention. “What about this other guy in the background. Ever see him?”

Lenny approached the bar cautiously, his gaze darting to Jack. He picked up the photo again and stared at it. “This guy?”

“Yeah,” Gemma nodded. “Have you seen him in here before?”

Lenny dropped the photo back onto the bar. “Nope. Don’t remember him.”

The blonde waitress came up to the bar and called out an order of drinks. Lenny nodded and picked out a glass.

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and looked at the two of them. “I’ve got to work. Cops are bad for business, so get the hell out of here.”

Exiting the Pink Kitty, Jack set a brisk pace for his car. Gemma hurried to keep up. When they got to his SUV, he unlocked it and waited for her to get in.

Gemma leaned against the door, showing no interest in getting in. Her forehead wrinkled as she spoke. “You know, Moretti, has to be staying somewhere. He had an ex-wife. Think she might know where he’s hiding out?”

Jack ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he didn’t feel like he was walking through a maze blindfolded. “It’s possible. Anything’s possible.” He put his hand on the hood of the car. “If the guy’s alive, he’s been living off the grid. He has to be getting money from somewhere and, yeah, he has to be staying some place. I’ll have T.J. run a check on his bank accounts and we’d better talk to his ex-wife. We’ll head over to Sutter Street now.”

Gemma drew her phone out of her bag. “The neighbors didn’t mention seeing any men going in or out of her place.”

“Her neighbors like to mind their own business.” He’d gotten an earful from the geriatric tenant.

“True,” Gemma agreed. “I’m going to make a call and see what other info I can dig up.”

As she began talking to someone named Millie, Jack’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw T.J.’s name on the screen. He tapped the screen to accept the call.

“Donahue. What’ve you got for me.”

“Nothing good. The hospital’s fire alarm has gone off, they’re evacuating, and someone got into Candy’s room. It looks like our killer was tying up loose ends.”

“Why take such a risk?” Gemma asked for the umpteenth time. “He had to have known that Candy would be under police protection.”

Jack drove with finesse and a great deal of speed. He’d set a siren on the SUV’s roof, and cars pulled to the side to let them pass.

“You’re assuming,” Jack said “that the killer is rational. I’d say anyone sick enough to do what he did to Candy is operating in a different universe. But whatever plan he has, it makes sense to him.”

Gemma shivered. The killer had contacted her. What kind of plans did he have for her?

The hospital loomed in sight and Gemma leaned forward as if that would make them go faster. She wanted to see Candy with her own eyes. The feisty stripper had been attacked twice and had managed to survive both times. Some guardian angel must be watching out for her.

Jack turned into the parking lot. Chaos reigned outside the hospital. A fire truck sat behind an ambulance. Firefighters moved in and out of the entrance. Hospital personnel moved among ambulatory patients and several others in wheelchairs.

Gemma’s reporter instincts kicked in, but she swiftly pushed them down. She wasn’t here to cover this story.

Jack pulled up behind a squad car and they both got out. Gemma rounded the vehicle and joined him on the sidewalk.

“Stay with me,” he ordered, his eyes reflecting a concern that made her want to stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to those lips. “We don’t know where the killer is.” He glanced over his shoulder before facing her once again. “I want to talk to the cop assigned to Candy’s room, and to her doctor.”

Gemma hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. “All right. Let’s go.”

Jack seemed to blaze a trail through all the people until he reached a police officer who told them it was a false alarm, and they were trying to get everyone back inside and settled.

They entered the hospital to see order was not much better inside than it had been outside. Patients and visitors milled about the lobby, while several nurses tried to get them sorted.

Jack bypassed them all and made a beeline for the elevators. “Candy is in ICU.” He pushed the button and they waited. Gemma caught sight of one of the Gazette reporters entering, but before she could catch her colleague’s attention, the elevator dinged its arrival.

They climbed in along with a bunch of other people complaining loudly about the false alarm. The elevator seemed to crawl upwards and they were forced to stop at each floor and wait patiently for people in slippers and on IVs to get off. ICU was on the fourth floor, and they were the only ones to exit the elevator.

They walked down a hallway until they came to a door with a window. The words ‘Intensive Care Unit’ were stenciled in black across the glass. Jack opened the door and gestured for Gemma to precede him.

She swallowed down the instinctive nausea that rose as she walked towards the central desk. On either side, rooms with windows showed patients inside hooked up to tubes and machines. Her footsteps slowed.

Memories of pacing back and forth in this same hallway day after day, willing Dana to wake up, assaulted her. She breathed in the scents of disinfectants and other hospital odors and recalled how they had seemed to cling to her like a second skin she couldn’t scrub or peel away. None of it had mattered; she couldn’t let it matter, when she’d had to hold it together while her world fell apart.

“Gemma, you okay?” The words seemed to come from far away.

She blinked and realized that she’d come to a stop several feet short of the nurses’ station. Jack peered down at her, concern etching his features.

“I forgot,” he said. “This has to be hard for you.” He put a hand on her elbow as if to steer her back in the direction they had come.

She put a hand on his chest to stop him. “I’m okay. Really. Let’s check on Candy.”

He nodded, squeezing her elbow and pivoted away. A male nurse came hurrying towards them. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave. We’ve been asked to keep this floor clear.”

Jack flashed his badge. “Which way…?”

“The guard’s over there.” The nurse waved to the far side of the station. “I have patients to see to.” He strode away.

They found the guard standing at attention near a closed door, his arms crossed over his chest. Behind him, Gemma caught sight of Candy attached to machines and tubes. Her mouth went dry and her stomach soured. She averted her eyes almost instinctively and then had to drag her gaze back and force herself to look.

Candy wasn’t Dana. She wasn’t a tiny little girl who had lived through a nightmare and still had to be told that her mommy and grandma were with the angels. Gemma blinked back the tears that threatened to rise up.

She focused on Candy, seeing her pale face against the brassy hair, lying helplessly in the bed. Candy might not be Dana, but she still needed protection and an advocate for justice. Gemma could do that for her and the thought steadied her nerves.

“What the hell happened here?” Jack asked the guard.

The officer looked to be around thirty. His lips tightened before he responded. “The alarm went off and this place went crazy as nurses and doctors started yelling out procedures for evacuation.” He jerked a thumb to the room next door. “The guy in there went into cardiac arrest and the machine went crazy.” His fingers curled into a fist. “I turned my back for a moment. Then word came down that it was a false alarm. The nurses went around to check on all the patients, and that’s when we found it.”

He didn’t elaborate on what “it” was and Gemma stayed quiet, sure that Jack would ask.

“What is ‘it’?” Jack asked.

“A message.” The officer pulled a notebook out of his shirt pocket. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

Jack shook his head. “I want to see it for myself first.”

Gemma bit back the urge to ask to see the officer’s notes, knowing she had no standing at this scene. She had to hope that Jack would share once he got out of the room.

The officer gestured towards the door. “I’m afraid only one of you can go in. Doctor’s orders.”

“Is Candy okay?” Gemma asked.

The officer nodded. “The nurse called the doctor in. They checked her over carefully and said there was no change, and no sign of tampering.”

Gemma considered asking the officer more questions to get at the details, but she knew it would annoy Jack. That wasn’t the only reason, though. Just as importantly, this place held too many memories of long nights, lengthy prayers and buckets of tears.

“All right,” the officer addressed Jack. “When you go in, face the door.”

Through the glass, she watched Jack enter. He paused a moment to check on Candy and then turned around to face them. His expression darkened and it seemed ages that he stood there. Then he took his phone out and took a picture.

Gemma moved closer to the door. It opened and Jack stepped out.

She practically pounced on him. “What does the message say?”

He put his phone away. “We’ll talk somewhere else.” He switched his focus to the officer. “Other than hospital personnel—and you check their badges—no one goes in there. I’ll be sending a forensics team down to dust for prints and collect the evidence.”

Jack stalked down the hallway, tension vibrating off him in waves. Gemma hurried after him, the hollow feeling in the pit in her stomach growing. What had Jack seen behind that door? Her imagination was busy conjuring up all kinds of scenes that could have been straight from a horror film.

“What did you see?” she asked again.

He shoved open the door to the emergency stairs. Exasperated, she followed him. He jogged down the stairs to the landing and halted. He put his back against the wall and waited for her to join him.

She stood toe to toe with him and poked her finger into his chest. “Spill. You’re starting to spook me. What did you see?”

Jack took out his phone and switched it on. He turned it so she could see the screen. It was a photo of the door in Candy’s room. A piece of paper was tacked to the door.

She took the phone from his hand to blow up the view. Words leaped off the screen. ONE MORE UNWORTHY ONE LEFT TO GO. THANKS FOR PLAYING.

“What the heck does this mean?” She stared at the screen, the words repeating in her brain.

Jack took the phone from her. “He’s jerking us around.” He started down the next flight of stairs.

“You think he’s playing us?” Gemma asked.

“I think he has his next victim in sight and I think he believes he’s smarter than us.” Jack paused on the landing, his gaze locking with hers. “Cocky bastards make mistakes. When this bastard does, I’m going to get him.” On those words, Jack trotted down the next staircase.

Gemma continued to trail after him, her mind analyzing and dissecting the message for some kind of clue.

Jack thought the guy was cocky. Was that it? He hadn’t left messages before. Why now? What had changed for him? He hadn’t killed Candy, though she might well have died if they hadn’t found her when they did.

Why hadn’t he killed Candy? He’d had the opportunity twice now. That the guy was sadistic was clear. He’d cut Candy up badly, but he hadn’t finished the job. He hadn’t cared if she lived or died.

Now in the hospital, again, he could have killed Candy to leave an even stronger message. He hadn’t.

The killer had made his point that he could get in and out any time he wished. He really was playing them.

He didn’t bother with Candy because she didn’t matter in his game, whatever game that was.

He didn’t care if she lived or died. His victims, though, had meaning for him. Special meaning.

Are you worthy, Gemma?

The words in that weird distorted voice crawled through her mind.

Worthy. Unworthy.

Over and over they repeated in her head.

Why were the two dead women unworthy? What in their backgrounds were they missing? There had to be something. She and Jack needed to dig more.

On the first floor, they exited into the lobby. Some people still milled about, but the fire truck no long sat parked outside the main entrance. At the information counter, Jack asked where security was and was given directions.

“What are you doing now?” Gemma asked.

“I want to get a look at the security tapes. Maybe we’ll get lucky and spot our guy. He got into that room somehow. It’s on the fourth floor. He didn’t fly up there. Somewhere on one of those tapes, we’ll find him.”

Jack paused in front of a door marked ‘Security,’ knocked and pushed the door open. He showed his badge and asked to see the security tapes.

Gemma caught his arm before he entered the room. She waved towards the ladies’ restroom across the hall. “I need to use the restroom a moment.”

A frown crossed Jack’s face. Gemma jumped in first. “Go on and start looking at the tapes. I won’t be long and I’m just across the hall.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t look too pleased. “I’ll have them keep the door open. If you aren’t here within five minutes, you’ll have company.”

An image of Candy in the hospital bed kept Gemma from rolling her eyes as she might normally have done at his highhanded tone. Instead, she squeezed his arm where she clasped it and nodded in understanding.

She felt Jack watching her until the restroom door closed behind her. Mindful of his warning, she used the facilities quickly. She was washing her hands when her phone sounded from within her bag. The funeral dirge didn’t seem quite so amusing anymore and she made a mental note to change it soon.

She pulled out her phone and saw her aunt’s name on the screen.

“Hey, Aunt Sylvie, what’s up?”

“Hello, Gemma,” came that weird, distorted voice. “It’s time to come out to play.”