Authors: James Kipling
Chapter Sixteen
Everything you can imagine is real. ~ Pablo Picasso
Clara, the medical examiner, looked again at the results on the monitor and she could not believe what she was seeing. Usually, she never second guessed the results, but now she was doing just that. Maybe the machines malfunctioned or her vision was defective.
She picked up the phone and put it down again. If she made this call it may raise questions about her professional competence. She was the doctor who had produced the evidence that allowed the authorities to declare Emilio De Leon dead several years ago. And now, after all this time, the DNA from skin samples found under Austin De Leon’s finger nails matched his father’s perfectly. That was impossible, unless Emilio De Leon was still alive. But that was ridiculous. He has been dead many years now.
With much hesitancy, she again picked up the phone. She was not sure yet how she was going to explain herself. Pierce was soon on the other end.
“I’m going to tell you something which will surprise you and for which I have no explanation yet. We found DNA on Austin De Leon’s body, under his finger nails. It seems he struggled with someone before he died. And guess what? It matches that of his father perfectly.”
She did not hear the expected gasp and shock.
“Why do you sound so afraid of this fact?”
“Because I pronounced his father dead,” she said slowly. “That explosion several years back – I found evidence that suggested he was one of the victims…I….” her voice trailed off.
“It happens all the time, Cara, don’t blame yourself. He wanted to disappear to escape the heat and I am sure he made that explosion happen so he could fall off the grid.”
She breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Is there anything else you found?”
“Yes, the sweat on Ashlee Thompson was most certainly from Justin Quincy. She was also carrying Austin’s child. There were no drugs in her system, just in her wounds. You can now get a warrant to search Quincy’s home.”
“You sound as if you’re holding something back from me. What is it?”
“There is something odd, I mean, I sense an anomaly in my findings but I can’t put a finger on it yet, but I know it’s there, somewhere.”
“Then I would advise you to step away for a moment and then look over everything again. That should clear your head.”
“Okay, I’ll take your advice.”
“Good. Got to go. There are some things waiting to be done.”
“All right, Pierce. When I figure it out, I will surely give you a call.”
She could not easily shake her guilty feeling. She looked at the bodies of the two young people - Ashlee and Austin - on the autopsy tables. And all this happened probably because she pronounced a man dead who wasn’t. Maybe, if she had been more observant this would not have happened.
She tried to massage her temples to relieve the stress. She heard footsteps approaching and looked over her shoulder to see Josie standing at the entrance.
“Is everything all right, sis?”
“Yes, just a little tired right now.”
“Then why not take a break?”
“Good idea.”
“If you need anything, I will be out front.” Josie said before moving on.
Cara paused for a moment and watched as Josie walked away. Their mother would have been proud of the young woman she had become. How terrible it would have been if her sister was lying on the autopsy table instead of Ashlee Thompson. Immediately her head started to ache again.
She would take a break to clear her head and try to look at things with new eyes. She replaced the covers on the bodies. She still had that nagging feeling that something was amiss. But she couldn’t put her finger on it at the moment.
With her frustration mounting again, Cara took off her gloves, washed her hands and left the lab. She went into her office where she placed one of Bach’s soothing symphonies in her DVD player. Gradually, as she listened, the case slipped further and further away from her mind and she forgot her sense of foreboding that something terrible was going to happen and she was powerless to prevent it.
Chapter Seventeen
Love cures people – both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it. ~ Karl Menninger
Chelsea stirred in her sleep, opened her eyes and sat up. She glanced at the LED clock. It was only six-thirty. It took her a while to remember that she was at Dean’s apartment. She heard sounds coming from the kitchen and memories of last night flooded her. She felt a little self-conscious about what happened. She wondered how he was feeling.
Putting on her robe, she went out into the living room. The delicious smell of scrambled eggs and bacon assaulted her nostrils.
“Morning”, she said shyly as she sat on the sofa.
“Good morning. Had a good sleep?”
“Couldn’t have been better.”
“I wonder if I had anything to do with it.”
She blushed and did not answer.
“Okay, time to eat.”
He brought out two plates with toast and two mugs of coffee and placed them by the hatch that also served as a table. They ate almost in silence, their eyes frequently locked on each other.
Feeling uncomfortable, but at the same time excited, she put the dishes in the sink and went to watch the early morning news. Shortly afterwards he joined her on the sofa.
“Well, what are you going to be doing today?” He asked since she would not be going to work because of the suspension.
“I haven’t worked that out yet…”
“I’m on the later shift, so we can spend some time together before I go in.”
“That would be good.”
“You really mean that?”
“You know I do.”
“So you are not mad with me about last night?”
“Should I be?”
“All right then. Suppose I tell you that I really care about you. From the moment we met I felt this connection.”
“I must admit, I felt the same, although at first I was not sure of your feelings toward me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was not sure what you saw in me.”
“Everything I have ever wanted.” And he pulled her to him.
She was unresisting as her heart drummed out an erratic beat.
“You make me want to be a better person. I really can’t explain it, but you just seem to be that missing piece to me that I have been looking for all these years. And I consider myself lucky to have found you.”
“And you make me want to trust again…to learn that there are still good people in the world, and not everyone is bad… so please understand if I want to take it slow…it’s not about you, but rather about me. I tend to lose the people I love and I would not want to lose you now that this is happening.”
“I understand.”
He caressed her cheek with his hand, brushed a lock of hair out of her face and sought her lips. They kissed deeply and passionately, clinging to each other. Chelsea decided that this time there would be no holding back, she would let her emotions take her where they will.
Dean sensed her surrender and pressed into her as he showered kisses on her lips, her eyes, and her neck. She in turn wrapped her arms tightly around him as if to absorb him. He stood up pulling her upward too. She wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bedroom. At that moment nothing else seemed to matter to either of them.
After their passion was spent, they lay side by side in companionable silence. Chelsea’s head was resting on his shoulder as she snuggled up as close as possible to him. There was no need for words.
In the silence, Dean’s mind was working overtime. How he wished things were different; that he had met Chelsea earlier. When he had taken the job some months ago, it was no problem. He had no feelings for anyone. He had been recruited for a large sum of money to transfer to the Homicide department so he could spy on Chelsea. It had seemed so easy then and since he was used to being undercover, he knew how to blend in and conceal his tracks. But he had not counted on falling in love with Chelsea, and therein was the problem.
He gently eased himself up and went to the bathroom. He carried his phone with him. While there, it vibrated. Looking at the screen, he read the text message. It caused his blood to turn to ice. It read:
We are moving it up to tonight. Bring her to the place as planned.
Dean’s face was as if he had seen a ghost. When he had taken the job he did not anticipate becoming involved with Chelsea. How was he to know that? Now his affections were involved and it put him in quite a bind. He could never explain to Chelsea that she was the reason why he had taken the job in Homicide. It was to get close to her, find out what she knew and what were her plans for tracking down her parents’ killer. He had done his job very well and had kept his employers current with all that she was doing, without being detected.
Now they were planning to eliminate her because she was becoming a threat to their operations by her persistent digging. If only she was not so curious and stubborn. Why couldn’t she stop pushing and heed the warning of the two callers? Why couldn’t she let the past go?
He was torn between his commitment to the job and his strong feelings for Chelsea. If he failed in his task someone was going to die. Actually, either way, one of them would die and possibly, even both of them.
He stood at the bathroom door observing her as she sat on the sofa watching TV and not knowing that he was one of her worst enemies. She had come out of her shell for once and trusted someone and now he was about to betray that trust. He was sure she would never trust another human being again as long as she lived, if she lived.
It was so ironic, that there he was, knowing where De Leon and his partner, Mendoza, were hiding out while she was desperately trying to find them. A word from him and she would have her revenge. If only things were that easy, he could set her mind at peace and lay the ghosts of her past to rest.
She sensed him looking at her and turned and smiled at him ever so trustingly. He came over and enfolded her in his arms and her kiss was warm and inviting. He felt the desperate need to make love to her again, even if it was the last time. But the thought of the task he had to complete cooled his ardor. If only he could think of a way to save her.
He disengaged from the kiss and asked her, “How would you like for us to go out tonight? On a real date, I mean?”
“That sounds good.” She was smiling and seemed quite happy at the thought.
“About seven, then?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll make sure to leave work early.”
She nodded.
Much later, as he set off for work he reminded her not to let anyone into the apartment and to be on the alert since they didn’t know who was looking for her.
“You’re talking to me as if I’m not a police officer.” She threw a pillow at him.
“Just making sure. You’re special to me, remember.”
“I will.”
As Dean made his way down the stairs, he thought about De Leon and his killing ways. How could he have allowed himself to get involved with people like him? Then suddenly, an idea flashed across his mind. Just maybe, it was the answer to his problem and perhaps it would work. It was dangerous and would require perfect timing. Any foul-ups would be deadly.
If he decided to pursue it, he would be laying his life on the line. He was forced to ask himself if he cared for Chelsea that much to take such a risk. That was something about which he would have to do some more thinking.
Chapter Eighteen
Other things may change us, but we start and end with family. ~ Anthony Brandt
Finding someone named Bianca Rodriquez in Tucson was proving to be challenging. There were quite a few listed in the online directory and in Google, but none of them seemed to fit. Plus the videotape was done quite some time ago and maybe she had died or moved away.
Pierce decided to take a break. Then his phone rang. It was his wife. She rarely called him at work. He hoped nothing was wrong with the twins.
“Hey, honey, what’s up?”
“Were you expecting a package today?”
“No.”
“Well, someone rang the doorbell and he seemed like a delivery man. When I opened the door, he just said special delivery for Detective Carson. By the time I was about to ask him where to sign, he was gone. So I just dragged it inside. It’s kind of heavy although it is not so big.”
Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Emma, where is the package now?”
“Near the door on the living room floor.”
“Listen to me, Emma, grab the children and get out of the house immediately. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“But…but…”
“Do as I say, Emma, right now!”
He slammed shut the phone and quickly went into the main work area where several officers were standing around talking.
“Get them to dispatch a bomb unit to my house, immediately, Parker.”
He issued the order without breaking his stride. He dashed into the car park and jumped into his vehicle. His heart was racing at nearly a hundred beats per minute. His chest felt like it was going to explode while his breath came in quick short gasps. He turned on the siren and floored the accelerator.
He prayed nothing would happen to his family, not Emma, nor his twin daughters or it would kill him. All the possible scenarios rushed through his mind as he wove his way through the traffic like a stunt driver in a movie.
When he finally pulled into the driveway he leapt out of the car and ran past the squad car which just arrived a little ahead of him.
“Emma, Emma!” He started yelling.
Then he saw her and the children standing further down on the sidewalk while the bomb squad went into the house. Relief flooded him as he hugged them to him fiercely. She was looking pale and frightened.
“What’s going on, Pierce? What’s in the box?” She asked.
“I don’t know, honey, the team will look and let us know. I’m just glad you and the kids are safe.”
“Looks like your work is following you home. What’s really going on, Pierce?”
“Before I answer that, would you be able to describe the person who delivered the box?”
“Well, he was about average height, a bit on the heavy side, and now I think of it, he had his cap pulled down over his face, and he was wearing what looked like a delivery man’s uniform.”
“That could be anybody.” He said.
“Now will you answer my question?”
Letting out a sigh, he knew that the less she knew the better off she would be. However, she worked in the media and would catch wind of what was happening, even if he did not tell her. Looking over to his twin girls and then back to his wife, he took her hands in his. He looked into her eyes and knew he would have to tell her the full story – Chelsea’s story, and how it connected to what was happening now.
At that very moment, the officer in charge of the bomb squad called him into the house. There was a strange sounding urgency in his voice.
“Just a minute, Emma, I’ll be back, and then I will tell you the whole story.”
As he entered the house, he noticed how grim the officers’ faces were. They were standing around the box, so obviously it was not a bomb.
“Take a look, Detective.”
Pierce gasped, instinctively drew back and felt like retching when he saw the contents.
It was a human heart!