The Body Thief (18 page)

Running her hands across his chest, she
reveled in the feel of his muscles. Moving lower, she snagged the
end of his T-shirt and tugged it out of his jeans. He stared at her
as if he didn’t dare breathe. She eased the shirt upwards, exposing
his taut flesh inch by inch. Her fingers skimmed over the flatness
of his belly and he sucked in a breath.

Slowly, the T-shirt and her fingers crept
higher until they skimmed across his nipples. She flicked at the
hard brown nubs with her nails and was rewarded with a groan.

“You’re killing me, Samantha!”

“Good things come to those who wait. Don’t
you know that?” she smiled, feeling all-powerful and in control. It
was intoxicating. At last, taking pity on him, she pulled the shirt
over his head and discarded it.

Her breath caught at the sight of his male
beauty. His broad chest was almost hairless and rippled with
definition. Even in late winter, he sported a pale golden tan. She
could stare at him for hours.

As if impatient, he stood on one foot and
pulled off each shoe before tugging at his belt and loosening the
clasp on his jeans. A moment later, he stepped out of them and
stood before her, clad only in his underwear.

The snug pair of briefs hugged his hips and
stretched taut over his erection. Sam stared at the bulge in
fascination, wondering how it would feel. She wanted to see him
naked and to press herself against all that hard, warm male
flesh.

He must have seen the need in her eyes
because he slowly drew her forward with his hands firm on her hips.
Pulling her close, he rubbed against her and her knees went weak
with need. She could feel the long hard length of him pressing into
her belly.

“I want you, Samantha.”

She stared up at him and nodded. “I want
you, too.”

His hands went to the clasp of her jeans and
he slid them down her hips. She toed off her shoes and then grabbed
the bottom of her Levis and pulled them the rest of the way off.
Clad only in their underwear, they stood and stared at each other,
their breath coming fast.

Then Rohan reached out for her hand and drew
her slowly out of the kitchen. With her heart pounding in
anticipation, Sam followed him down the hall.

He paused at the spare room that was set up
as an office and then continued on. Past the bathroom, he halted
outside her open bedroom door. Turning, he took her in his arms and
kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “Are you sure about this?”

She gazed at him. She was unsure about a lot
of things, but making love with Rohan wasn’t one of them. They
might not have seen each other for a decade, but she felt like
she’d come home to someone warm and familiar; someone she cared
about.

“I’m sure,” she whispered and meant it.

“Do you have any condoms?” he asked and she
blushed to the roots of her hair.

“No, I’m sorry. There hasn’t been any need…
“Besides, I take oral contraception to help with my periods.
They’ve always been heavy and I get cramping and… She dropped her
gaze to the floor, beyond embarrassed. “Too much information,
right?”

With gentle fingers, he tilted her chin
until she was forced to meet his gaze. “Hey, I see and hear a whole
lot of things in my job that most men wouldn’t be able to stomach
and I have three sisters. Talking about periods and cramping won’t
send me running for the hills. And as for being without a supply of
condoms, that’s nothing to be ashamed about. I like that you’re
unprepared. It means you’re not into bringing men home with you too
often and that makes me feel special.” He winked. “Lucky for us, I
have one in my wallet.”

“If you’re worried about disease, I assure
you I have regular check ups and being in the police force, I
assume you do, too.”

He nodded. “Of course, but it isn’t only
STD’s I’m concerned about.”

His words took a moment to register inside
Sam’s brain, but when they did, she tensed. Anger stirred inside
her. “Thank you very much, Rohan Coleridge,” she snapped.

He frowned in confusion and shook his head.
“What did I say?”

She was filled with disbelief. “Really?
You’re really going to pretend you don’t know how much you just
insulted me? There’s only one other thing that concerns a man when
he’s about to have sex without a condom and we both know what it
is.”

She jammed her hands on her hips and her
anger found its head. “Admit it! You think I’m lying when I tell
you I’m on the pill! It’s the only reason why you still feel the
need to use a condom.”

“No! It has nothing to do with you,
Samantha! You have it all wrong! Daphne’s the one who screwed with
me. When I questioned her about how she could be pregnant, she gave
me the story about the antibiotics messing with her on the pill,
but later, she told me she’d stopped taking them. Apparently, the
pill was making her fat. At least, that’s what she thought.”

He laughed without humor. “Too bad she
didn’t think to tell me she’d stopped using contraception. I would
have made sure we used condoms and I’d have known right away the
baby couldn’t have been mine. I wouldn’t have gone through all
those sleepless nights, wondering how the hell I was going to
support a wife and child because don’t get me wrong, I would have
married her.”

He dragged in a ragged breath and tiredly
ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I learned from that moment on
not to trust sole responsibility for contraception to the woman.
It’s nothing personal.”

Sam shook her head in disbelief. “Nothing
personal! How else am I supposed to take it? Here we are, with
barely any clothes on, about to engage in wild, spontaneous sex and
you’re insisting on a condom when I’ve already told you I’m on the
pill. How is that not personal?”

His gaze pleaded with hers. “You’re
misunderstanding me, Samantha. My reluctance to trust a woman to
take care of contraception relates to
all
women, not just
you.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?
What the hell planet are you on?” she shouted.

Hurt and confusion filled his eyes. “I think
it’s time I left,” he said, his voice thick with tension. “Let’s
just say, I’m no longer in the mood.”

She took a step toward him. “Rohan—”

Without another word, he stalked away from
her and disappeared into the kitchen. Clad once again in his
T-shirt and jeans and carrying his shoes in his hand, he opened the
front door. It closed with a click that sounded so final the
hollowness of it reverberated all the way through Sam’s heart.

Dear Diary,

It seemed like such a good idea, a win for
everyone. Now, I’m not so sure. The pressure to supply more and
more tissue is consuming me. I was under the impression
Biologistics was in this business for much the same reasons I was:
to increase the supply and availability of viable human tissue and
give a greater number of people a better chance at life.

But it seems I’ve been led astray, or
perhaps I just didn’t want to see. For Biologistics, it’s all about
quotas and money and I am powerless against their contagious
greed.

With no government restrictions, Charles
Shillingworth and his company are free to take whatever they can
get. The quotas get higher and higher. Where will it all end?

And then I look at the money in my account
and I just want more and more. The truth is, I’m as bad as Charles
Shillingworth. The money and the promise of more has corrupted my
soul.

I’ve cleared Richard’s gambling debts and
paid off the next year’s school fees in advance. The money is
everything I thought it would be, but I’m frightened of its hold.
Of
their
hold.

I’ve stepped into a yawning abyss and I have
no way to get out. God, help me! What have I done?

* * *

“What the hell do you mean, you need more
money? I already told you I’m cutting back on my activities,”
Alistair growled at Richard, already regretting his decision to
meet with the deputy coroner after the man left a message on
Alistair’s cell phone. It had been filled with desperation and
none-too-subtle threats.

They sat, hidden in a booth in the back of
yet another secluded bar in the city. Alistair clenched his jaw in
an effort to keep his anger in check. Over the past few months,
he’d not only cleared Richard’s sixty-thousand-dollar gambling
debt, but he’d given the deputy coroner a fifteen percent cut of
the earnings he received from Biologistics.

Even before Alistair decided to reduce his
extracurricular undertakings, only a small percentage of the
tissues he delivered overseas came from bodies that passed through
the Glebe Morgue. He’d been willing to give his friend a
respectable share of the booty in return for his cooperation and
silence, but he was damned if he’d increase the percentage or be
intimidated by the man’s threats.

“I did some research on the Internet,”
Richard said in a whining tone that grated on Alistair’s ears. “The
supply of human tissue is big business overseas. There are
companies in the US who pay a fortune for that kind of thing. I’ve
done a few sums. All I’m saying is that fifteen percent isn’t
enough.”

“You stupid idiot! Do you have any idea the
risk involved in doing what I’m doing? If I get caught, I’m facing
serious jail time, not to mention the end of my career. You’re the
one who begged me to keep going, cried on my shoulder about how you
couldn’t afford for me to stop. Now you’re sitting back, keeping
your hands clean and raking in the cash. You can’t have it both
ways, Richard. Fifteen percent is fair payment for your
services.”

“Don’t tell me I’m sitting back doing
nothing! I’ve been copping some flak from the State Coroner. That
sister of yours has been causing trouble. Apparently, she mentioned
her concerns about a missing consent form to the coroner and yours
truly was closely questioned.”

Dread filled Alistair’s gut, but he refused
to show any sign of weakness. “Just so you know, my sister didn’t
stop with your boss. She and a friend of hers, who works in a
funeral parlor, went to the police.”

“The police! Fuck! Why the hell didn’t you
tell me?” Richard wailed.

Alistair shrugged. “Why would you be
concerned? I’m the one knee deep in all of this.”

“You’re right. The retrievals happened well
before the bodies arrived at the morgue. I can claim I didn’t have
a clue you were acting outside the terms of the consent.” He stared
hard at Alistair, gaining confidence. “Or should I say, without
any
consent.”

Alistair gritted his teeth and accepted the
gibe. It was true, after all. In order to keep up with the endless
demand from Biologistics, he’d started forging the signatures on
the consent forms. Sometimes, he hadn’t bothered with a consent
form at all. He tried to limit those to the bodies who were sent
directly to the funeral homes, but every now and then, he slipped
up—like with the one Sam had discovered.

Anger, tinged with a little desperation,
coursed through Alistair’s veins. All he was trying to do was save
a bunch of people’s lives. Otherwise, the organs and tissues would
go to waste. What harm was there in that? In rescuing them for
someone else? He couldn’t understand why the law wasn’t with him on
this and, despite their potential involvement, he wasn’t prepared
to stop.

For one, he needed the money. He’d splashed
out on some big-ticket items over the past couple of weeks. The
bright red Ferrari 488 GTB that now sat in his garage had cost more
than half a million dollars. It was extravagant, but he hadn’t been
able to control himself. Once he knew he had a bank account with a
balance of seven figures, it had done his head in and he’d lost his
common sense.

He’d told his wife he was minding the car
for a friend who’d gone overseas for several months. The man hadn’t
wanted to leave it unattended in the garage beneath his building.
Nancy didn’t argue with him over his explanation, although she’d
walked away with an expression of doubt on her face.

He didn’t know what he was going to do when
the months passed and the Ferrari wasn’t returned. He’d deal with
that headache when he had to. Right now, he had more pressing
matters requiring his attention.

“Give me an extra ten percent and I’ll head
your sister off at the pass.”

Richard’s statement jerked Alistair’s
thoughts back to the present. He stared at the deputy coroner in
disbelief. “Didn’t you hear what I said, Richard? Sam’s filed a
report with the police. This has gone way beyond what you can
control in your little domain. Deborah Healy and I have already met
with two detectives. They asked a lot of questions and requested
the records of any patient who’d died and donated organs since
June. If they’re on the ball, they’ll discover the rates of organ
and tissue donation have skyrocketed over that time.”

Richard shrugged, looking unconcerned.
“It’ll be easy enough to pass that off as a result of a successful
advertising campaign. You have the backing of the State Government.
The police won’t be able to argue with that.”

“True, and if they leave it at that, we’ll
be safe. What I’m worried about is if the police get a hint that
the organ retrievals weren’t done in accordance with the terms of
the consent or done without any consent.”

“There’s no reason to suspect they’ll even
consider it,” Richard replied nonchalantly and Alistair wished he
could feel so blasé.

“You’re getting way too anxious about this,
Alistair. Trust me, the people who work in the funeral parlors
won’t know one way or the other what was taken and what wasn’t.
Short of exhuming bodies, the police will never know, either. It’s
only the morgue staff who have access to those kinds of
records.”

Alistair threw Richard a hard stare and
responded. “
Exactly
. That’s the reason I wanted to stop
harvesting additional tissues from the bodies destined for autopsy.
If I recall correctly,
you
were the one who begged me not to
exclude them from my work.”