Remember Me (22 page)

What’s wrong with me, this is too much, too soon!
Her
mind screamed.
This woman moves me like no other woman can, still….
he thought as he gazed into her eyes. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers, then traced the soft, fullness of her lips with his tongue. Feeling her body shiver, he thought,
She may not remember me yet, but her subconscious and her body does.
Her entire body heating from the touch of his lips, she was completely unaware of the moan of pleasure that was escaping deep from within her. Closing her eyes, she shivered with delight again as his mouth finally bore down full-force on hers, his tongue exploring, probing. Squirming, she was acutely aware of how wet her panties were becoming.
It’s been so long, too long…
she thought
Slow down!
Granger’s better judgment screamed in warning, but the throbbing erection that was pressing painfully against his zipper of his tailored pants screamed,
GO GO GO, DON’T STOP!
What control he was holding onto by his fingertips quickly slipped away when her hands buried themselves in his hair, and her nails scraped his scalp. Lowering his head, he began
kissing and nibbling her neck, and the sounds of her desperate panting only served to fuel his primal need even more.
Pressing her back against the couch, he grabbed her leg and pulled it over his lap. With one quick motion, his large hand found
its
way underneath the waistband of her pants, then slid inside her panties.
“We should stop." she whimpered helplessly as she felt his large hand groping, searching, probing.
Kissing her passionately on the lips to silence her, his probing fingers found her hot, throbbing center. Sliding one thick finger inside her, he slowly began working it in and out, in and out, then began moaning himself as he felt her orgasm.
The shrill ring of his cell phone broke the passionate moment.
With a dazed look on her face, Cassandra sat forward, grabbed his hand, and pulled it out of her pants.
“How could you take advantage of me like that, my vulnerability?" she asked in a tremulous voice, then bolted from the couch, sobbing.
Leaping to his own feet, he watched helplessly as she ran down the narrow hall, went inside a bedroom, then slammed the door shut. He flinched when he heard the click of a lock being thrown into place.
Groaning and cursing his own impulsive behavior, he tried to adjust his throbbing manhood. Pulling the cell phone off his belt, he had to fight an urge to hurl it against the wall. Instead, he clicked ignore, and sent his mother’s call to his voice mail.
Settling back on the couch miserably, he looked down the hallway at the locked bedroom door, and knew she wouldn’t be coming out until her mother and Cynne’ returned.

                                                            Chapter 19

Martina opened the door, greeting her unsuspecting prey. “Mr. Martin, come in, come in, please.” her eyes glowed with pleasure as she waved her hand in grand fashion.
Uncomfortable with the look on the redheaded vixen‘s face, Buddy’s normally silent inner voice whispered,
Just say to hell with the money and leave, something’s not right here!
But in typical fashion, his greed overrode what little intuition he possessed. Running his hand over his mouth nervously, he stepped inside and mumbled, “Listen, my plane is leaving in just a few hours, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just get the cash and leave. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.”
Closing the door and locking it, she smiled winningly and hooked her arm through his, leading him into the dining room. “Slow down, relax.” she cooed . “Brett will be here
shortly, so don’t you worry, you’ll get yours in a few minutes.” Chuckling softly at her own play of words, she said, “Let’s have a drink. I have some brandy, and you simply must have dinner with us!
Humor me, please?" she pouted.
“Brett rarely has company here, he works so much. We also have some plans we need your help with.” she finished, then released his arm and made her way to a small, but expensive bar in the corner.
Looking at the elegant table that had been set up like a feast for a king, his stomach rumbled.
Hell, I could use a drink, and a good meal..
He
thought. His nerves had been on edge for several days, what with the specter of Raidon Bishop and Granger Mortensen’s potential wrath bearing down on him, and he had eaten very little. He had lost five pounds, in fact.
Pouring brandy into a fine crystal goblet, Martina approached him and handed it to him.
Taking a huge gulp immediately, he closed his eyes in anticipation of the burn, but it never came.
Smooth stuff. Well, I suppose they can very well afford the best of everything..
He
thought, just as a sudden voice made him flinch and open his eyes.
“I see our guest has arrived. Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Martin!” Brett said as he stepped into the room. Nodding at Martina, his smile broadened with approval as he looked at the table.
“Well, you boys sit down, and I’ll be right back.” Martina smiled.
“Well, let’s have a seat, shall we, Mr. Martin?" he said as he gestured to an empty chair, then sat himself at the head of the table.
Pulling a thick envelope out of his suit pocket, he slid it in Buddy’s direction, then smiled as the man’s beady eyes locked on it.
“Dinner is served!” Martina chirped eagerly as she returned from the kitchen and placed a steaming plate in front of the private detective. On the plate sat a thick rib eye steak smothered with mushrooms and onions, and mashed potatoes smothered with gravy.
Going back into the kitchen, she returned seconds later with a nearly identical plate for Brett, and a plate of chicken salad for herself, then sat down to join them.
Mouth watering and stomach rumbling, Buddy hesitated for a moment and thought,
Why am I so jumpy? They wouldn’t do anything to me, it would be too obvious. After all, Bishop knows Brett hired me.
Cutting into his own steak, Brett forked a steaming morsel into his mouth, began chewing, then mumbled, “Dig in, Buddy, while it’s still hot!”
Setting to with a will, Buddy began cutting his steak into chunks and shoveling them into his eager mouth with the rapidity of machinegun fire.
Watching the man dig in, Brett exchanged a quick, furtive glance with Martina. “Mr.
Martin, my cousin and I need to get an untraceable weapon, along with some identification and passports for ourselves. Like you, we think it’s time we flew the coop, things are getting a tad messy here. We’re willing to pay ten thousand if you can produce them by tomorrow.” he said.
A huge smile spread across Buddy’s face, it seemed his luck was finally taking a turn for the better. “That could be arranged, but I would need twelve thousand.” he replied, then thought,
And if I play my cards right, I can have these two on the hook for a while. Shit, I’ll never have to work again! I could be in women and booze heaven. I think I could get used to the good life!
“I hope you like the steak. You should try the potatoes, our grandmother gave us that recipe. I grow the herbs myself, gardening is a hobby of mine. It’s a valued family recipe, and we only serve it on special occasions.” Martina purred, then exchanged a glance once more with her cousin.
Shoveling a mouthful of the potatoes into his mouth, Buddy mumbled, “Damn good, my compliments to the chef.”
He looks like a pig feeding at a trough…
Brett thought as he watched the man eat, disgusted at his lack of table manners.
Grabbing a dinner roll from a dish in the middle of the table, Buddy took a large gulp of wine, belched heartily, then froze as his face heated up suddenly. Feeling trickles of sweat beginning to run down his forehead, he put his wineglass down and loosened his tie.
Studying him for a moment, Martina took a sip of her own wine, smirked, then turned to her cousin. “Brett, I found the most interesting dress shop today. The young lady creates one-of-a-kinds that are simply amazing! I’m talking, better than most of the designer stuff I’ve ever bought.”
Now perspiring profusely, Buddy blinked several times as his vision began to blur, and he felt his face grow even hotter. With dawning horror, he began to feel numbness creeping through his entire body. Opening his mouth to plead for help, all he heard come out was a high-pitched wheeze.
“Indeed? Did you buy something for yourself?” Brett asked Martina conversationally as he took a sip of his own wine.
“Better than that! I made a deal with her to sell some of her stuff in my own shop. The clothing has
an
urban hip-hop elegance, it’s the kind of clothing that the younger crowd will love.” she replied with a sunny smile.
Feeling like his heart was being squeezed in a vice, Buddy put both his numb hands over his chest as he felt his throat constrict, and suddenly found himself struggling to breathe.
“Well good for you! Listen, the night is still young, would you like to take in a movie?” Brett asked her as he casually glanced at the private detective, who had somehow managed to stagger to his feet.
He looks like a fish out of water, gasping for air…
he thought.
“Oh goodness, I’ll have to give you a rain check on that, sorry. I’m going to see Granger later, so I need to do some primping.” she giggled, playing with and then tossing her gorgeous red hair over her thin shoulders.
Through a haze, Buddy noticed both of them looking at him as if studying the death throes of a dying insect, and his eyes grew even wider with horror as he finally realized what had happened, realized he would never leave the house alive.
Looking back at Martina, Brett frowned and put his fork down. “Do you think that’s wise? The man is an animal! Why you want him is beyond me.”
Lurching forward, Buddy grabbed weakly at the tablecloth, clutched it with one hand, then fell face forward.
With lightning-like reflexes, both Martina and Brett lifted their wineglasses off the table, just as the tablecloth was yanked off, sending all the remaining dishes and cutlery crashing to the floor.
“Brett, lay off Granger why don’t you?” Martina replied as she gave him her best whipped, puppy-dog look. “You have your little plaything, why shouldn’t I have mine?” she pouted.
“Oh, alright, you‘ve got me there…” he grumbled, then looked down at the floor at the stricken man. “It seems our guest has fallen ill, darling.”
“
FALLEN ill." she giggled at the irony. “You’re so clever dear!"
“Runs in the family, my sweet."
Wiping her red lips and tossing the napkin down, she stood and approached the still-struggling man, watching with great interest as his body twitched and his chest heaved.
With one last long, strangled breath, Buddy went limp, his bulging eyes glazed over, and bloody foam began trickling from his mouth and nose, onto the floor.
Bending, she checked his pulse as she consulted her wristwatch. Looking up at Brett, she said, “Grammy’s secret recipe, works every time! But this time I added a little chemical I found in Mexico, one that speeds up the..uhhh…reaction.”
“Is that so? Well, no matter how good something is, there’s always room for improvement.” he mused.
“I do my best.” she purred. “Although I never took into consideration the mess the clumsy lout would make while doing the world a favor here. He ruined some of your best China.” she said as she angrily kicked several broken shards across the floor. “And look at that…stuff, coming out of his nose and mouth. Disgusting!”
“So? You just fine-tune your new element in the recipe, that’s all.” he shrugged. Getting to his feet, he walked over and stood beside her, looking down at the corpse. “Grandmother’s mixtures are indeed amazing, they worked well with all four of her husbands. She taught you well.”
Blushing and giggling, she nodded in agreement. Her grandmother had acquired her fortune from wealthy husbands who had become tiresome to her. She had disposed of each by poisoning, and had proudly passed her recipes down to her daughters and granddaughters. She had instructed each of them,
When disposing of someone, you should always serve them a fine meal. After all, it’s the least you can do, as a good, hospitable Southern lady. Don’t forget, even horrible serial killers get a good last meal.
She had then presented her with a cookbook compiled with great southern recipes, dishes that went well with the poisons. “Well, since I cooked, you should take out the trash.” she said as she nudged the body with her foot.
“Sounds more than fair, that steak was delicious! Shame I didn’t get to finish it.”
“I’ll cook you another one this weekend.” she replied absently, a thoughtful look on her face. Suddenly struck by an inspiration, she smiled broadly and snapped her fingers sharply.
“Why don’t you bury him in the rose garden, the one near the guest cottage?" she said excitedly as she nudged the body again with the toe of her high heel shoes.
“The tea roses are looking a bit puny, and he would make excellent fertilizer!”
They both dissolved into laughter, sounding like naughty children.

                                                    Chapter 20

“We have to be extremely careful Doctor Parker doesn’t find out about our suspicions, there’s no telling how he’d react.” Raidon advised the three people sitting around the table.
Malcolm, Jocelyn, and Cynne’ mumbled in agreement as they fidgeted with their coffee cups.
Turning to face Cynne’, Raidon’s gaze lingered sensually as he asked, “Were you able to swipe a couple of her pills?"
Giving him a saucy smile, she pulled a folded tissue that contained the pills out of her purse, then handed them to him. “I got a good look at the bottles, and there were no pharmacy labels. Instead, there were labels with his office address, her name and address, and a series of letters and numbers at the bottom that I memorized.”
“Photographic memory?” he asked with a warm smile and a wink.
“Something like that.” she replied as her gaze locked with his and she licked her lips subconsciously. “DEA4431967.”
Scribbling the information down in a small notepad, he looked back up and mumbled, “That’s my girl."
Feeling a pleasant tingle running up and down her spine, she uncharacteristically blushed and averted his gaze.
“Do you believe Doctor Parker was the one who hurt, who beat, my daughter so viciously?” Jocelyn asked softly, clearly concerned about her child’s safety.
The pain and fear he saw in the woman’s brown eyes bothered him, and he reached across the table to touch her hand reassuringly, although he had already made up his mind to be totally honest about the situation. “I don’t believe he was the one who actually attacked her. I believe he came into the picture at some point afterwards, maybe to do clean up. But to be honest, it does puzzle me that he seemingly went to such great lengths to hide her and not just leave her there to die, although we’re all thankful for that, of course. He’s still not to be taken lightly, however. I’m certainly not suggesting that he helped her out of the goodness of his heart, the man has a pretty shady past, from what I’ve learned thus far.”
“What do you mean?” she asked apprehensively.
“Well, first of all, let’s start with the name Karen Washington, the name Cassandra had been going under the past few years. Well, before Cassandra’s disappearance and her attack, there really was a woman named Karen Washington who worked under Doctor Parker, and she just happened to up and disappear one day herself. The last person who ever saw her alive was, well, him.”
Both Jocelyn and Cynne’s eyes grew wide with a mixture of shock and fear.
Malcolm didn’t like any of this, even though he trusted Raidon’s ability, and he was more than likely right that Brett hadn’t been the one who had attacked Cassandra. All he knew for sure was that there was something very wrong with Brett Parker. From his combat experience, he had seen the look before in other men’s eyes, the look of a bloodthirsty killer.
Looking at the handsome private detective, Cynne’ blurted, “I’m getting the feeling there’s something you’re not telling us.”
Raidon looked at her in admiration, charmed by the fact that not only was she sharp, she was always straight and to the point.
Watching the two of them eyeballing each another, Malcolm became slightly irritated.
Nudging Raidon’s arm with his elbow, he demanded, “If you’ve got something else to say, spit it out man!”
“Alright. Karen Washington, the
REAL
Karen Washington, worked as a research tech at a facility in Radford Virginia. The facility, at the time anyway, was developing and testing drugs for the Department of Defense, which will make digging up info on what exactly they were working on extremely frustrating, but luckily I have a few favors I may be able to call in on that. Anyway, guess who was the head of that research and development team?”
“Jesus, that freak really gets around, doesn’t he?” Cynne’ muttered.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Raidon nodded,
and then
continued. “There’s more. While working under him, Ms. Washington filed a formal complaint with the facility director, claiming Doctor Parker was not following safe testing protocols. I haven’t found out yet what he allegedly did wrong, it seems the records were conveniently purged, but you can bet I will. Well, just two days after filing the complaint, she disappeared. I also know he’s been tentatively linked to several other murders, there‘s simply never been any hard evidence of any kind found. Not enough to officially charge him, anyway.”
“Oh my God.” Jocelyn moaned as she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.
Sliding her chair over, Cynne’ put one arm around the older woman’s shoulder and patted her hand.
“When are you going to report all this to Granger?” Malcolm asked in a quiet voice.
Leaning back in his chair wearily, Raidon crossed his muscular arms over his chest and blew out a frustrated breath. “I think we all know Granger will fly off the handle when and if he finds all of this out. The way I see it, we can ill afford to be so preoccupied with trying to prevent him from hunting the man down himself and killing him, that we lose precious time trying to find out exactly who was responsible for Cassandra’s vicious, near-deadly attack.
Or what role Brett Parker played in all this."
Pinning Cynne’ with his dark gaze again, he said, “I know this, if it was my woman that had happened to, I would want kill the bastard with my bare hands. And let‘s face it, that’s exactly what Granger will do.”
“So you think we should just keep him in the dark for now?“ Malcolm asked with a troubled look.
“That would be my advice." he replied.
“I have to keep digging, sooner or later we’re going to find others who were involved in Cassandra’s attack, and her disappearance. As for Brett Parker, if we expose him too soon, without enough evidence to have him arrested, she will be in great danger, I think.”
Nodding, Malcolm replied in a grave voice. “Myself, I’m not sure what to do here, there’s so much to consider. Granger, as Cassandra’s husband, not only has a right to know all this,
but I think he needs to know. He has to think not only of her safety, but Regan‘s as well. Whoever was behind all this could very well use the boy to get at Cassandra. Also, we don’t know, yet, exactly what kind of drugs he’s been prescribing….I mean, giving to her. I think we should tell him. I’m reasonably sure I can keep him from busting the doctor’s head wide open.” he finished, although his last statement lacked conviction. He had been with Granger long enough to know that when the man got angry, he was like a raging bull.
Shit, if we’re not careful, very very careful, this could turn into a bloodbath…
he thought.
Absorbing everything the man had said, Raidon nodded his head slowly. While he doubted any one of them could control Granger Mortensen if push came to shove, he knew that Malcolm was closer to the man than anyone in the world, other than Regan, and he trusted his judgment.
Things are going to get worse before they get better..
A
voice whispered in Jocelyn’s mind, filling her with dread. Breaking the uneasy silence in the room, she said, “We should get back, before Cassandra wonders where we are.”