Grave Christmas Secrets, page 18
Taya examined the skull, noting a small hole where the bullet entered, but no exit wound. Most likely the cause of death, but she couldn’t guarantee yet.
She gathered the three envelopes marked Evidence, containing the SIM card, bullet casing and Patrice’s butterfly ring. She glanced at Officer Quincy, not wanting him to view the SIM card with her. Perhaps she’d wait until Keegan arrived. She set the envelope down and opted to start with the ring.
Quincy continued swiping at his phone, preoccupied with the game.
Taya walked to her microscope at the far side of the room, withdrew the ring and set it on the glass. Peering through the microscope, she zoomed in on the prongs of the ring’s setting.
A beep, and then a voice boomed over Officer Quincy’s radio. “I have a 10-100.”
“What’s a 10-100?” she asked nervously.
Quincy walked to the door. “Means he needs to use the restroom. Excuse me a minute.”
“Sure. Take your time.” She peered again into the microscope, excitement building. “Well, what do we have here?”
Using a pair of tweezers, she extracted a tiny sliver of what appeared to be dark hair. She placed the strand into a plastic vial and set it aside. Upon further inspection, she noticed a small rust-colored spot on the ring’s surface. Taya swabbed a sample and tested it with luminol. Sure enough, it glowed blue.
Blood. She took a second swab of the sample and added it to a separate vial for DNA testing.
With Quincy still absent, Taya returned to the table. She lifted the envelope containing the SIM card. Glancing at the double glass doors, she spotted no one and hurried to her office. Taya propped open the door to avoid drawing unnecessary attention when Quincy returned. She slipped the card from the envelope and slid it into the reader connected to her laptop.
Taya inserted earbuds and replayed the entire first video of Keegan and Skull entering Patrice’s car. An involuntary shiver coursed through her at the sight of Skull, intimidating and nefarious. But her heart did a double thump at Keegan’s handsome face.
Stop it.
The video was anticlimactic and ended with Patrice offering to meet them again.
Taya removed one earbud, concerned Quincy hadn’t yet returned. No, his absence was better for her. She’d maximize the privacy.
She played the second footage. Again, it began with the familiar background of Patrice’s car.
Taya scooted around her desk, unable to see out the door from her chair. She peeked into the lab. Still no Quincy.
Maybe he grabbed a snack on the first floor.
She hit Play and reinserted the earbud, leaning closer to the screen.
Patrice’s heavily made-up face peered into the camera. Her hazel eyes gleamed behind the thick eyeliner. “Huge progress. Today is September 8 and I’m meeting with Chelsea.”
Taya gasped.
Patrice continued, “She’s in tight with Brando and I’ve worked hard to befriend her. I’m hoping she’ll finally reveal his identity.” She glanced up at the rearview mirror and applied a too-dark lipstick. “Showtime.” She smacked her lips, then sat back.
Within a few minutes, the passenger door opened and the same woman Taya battled entered. “Hey, Butterfly.”
“Chelsea, are you okay?” Patrice’s tone was soft.
The woman’s right eye was black and blue and she had a small cut above her lip. “Yeah, no big deal.”
“What happened? Did Brando do that to you?”
Chelsea grimaced and her lip quivered. “He got angry when I asked him to meet you. He’s getting anxious. Says the Feds are onto him.”
“Do you think that’s true?” Patrice glimpsed at the camera.
Chelsea shrugged. “Who knows? He’s so paranoid. Maybe it’s for the best.”
“You could turn him in. The cops would see that as a good thing and you wouldn’t get in trouble, too.”
“I can’t do that to Brando! No way.” Chelsea’s eyes filled with tears. “I love him.”
“How long are you going to live this way?” Patrice laid her hand on Chelsea’s shoulders. “He’ll kill you.”
“I ain’t leavin’. Where else would I go? Brando takes care of me.”
“Abuse isn’t love, and it’s not taking care of you. You could go to a shelter.”
Chelsea laughed bitterly. “And what? Hide out until they kick me to the curb? This is my life, Butterfly. But you wouldn’t understand.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’ve never been homeless. When a man wants to take care of you, you stick by him. Loyalty. That’s what the group is about.”
“I understand loyalty to the people you love.” Patrice sighed and reached into her purse, retrieving a tissue. She passed it to Chelsea.
“If Brando found out... No, it’s too risky.” The woman fidgeted.
Several moments passed. Patrice glanced at the camera. “I need to tell you something. A secret. I’ll help you get away.”
Taya’s hand flew to her mouth. Don’t tell her!
Chelsea sniffled. “How?”
Patrice blew out a long breath. “You’d have to tell me who Brando is. His real identity.”
Chelsea shook her head, her long hair sweeping back and forth in vehement disagreement. “No. I can’t. He trusts me.”
“I trust you enough to tell you my secret.”
The woman’s large eyes blinked at Patrice. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I care what happens to you. You’re my friend.”
Chelsea swiped at her nose and nodded. “Okay.”
Taya gripped the sides of the laptop, as if doing so would stop Patrice from speaking the dreaded words.
“I’m not who you think I am. I’m a DEA agent.”
“You are?” Chelsea’s eyes grew wide. “You’re the Fed?”
“Yes. But we’ll help each other.”
Taya listened in horrified silence as Patrice revealed her undercover status to Chelsea, promising to keep her out of jail if she turned on Brando. They agreed to meet again the next evening and Chelsea left.
Alone again, Patrice shut off the camera without a word.
Taya reached into her purse for her cell, realizing she didn’t have one anymore. Swiveling in her chair, she grabbed the desk phone and dialed Keegan’s hotel. The phone rang four times before a clerk answered.
Which room was he in? “I need the room for Keegan Stryker.”
“What room number?” The clerk’s boredom oozed through the line.
“I don’t know.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but without—”
“This is an emergency! Find him. Now!” Taya slammed her hand on the desk.
The sound of keyboard clicks. “Please hold.”
At last the line rang again.
“Hello,” Keegan croaked, his voice deeper and raspier.
“It’s Taya.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I couldn’t sleep and came into work. I’ve watched the second video.” She rattled off the details, explaining how Patrice promised to help Chelsea if she turned on Brando. “Keegan, Chelsea must’ve turned on Patrice and got her killed.”
A pop echoed from the lab. Taya froze, eyes fixed on her open office door. She tried to stretch, but the desk phone cord leashed her, restricting movement.
“Keegan. Wait. I just heard something, hold on,” she whispered.
“Taya, don’t—”
She set down the receiver and rounded her desk.
The overhead lights went out, plunging her into darkness. Taya spun on her heel and reached across for the phone. A slam to the back of her head flattened her on the desktop. She placed both hands on the surface and pushed herself up. Another hit to the side of her head sent her stumbling into the wall.
“I gave you chances. Told Folze to encourage you to leave for Christmas. All you had to do was leave for one stupid night.” A familiar voice.
Only the soft glow of her desk lamp and computer filled the room.
Taya braced herself and turned. “Chelsea. How did you get in here?” She raised her voice, hoping Keegan heard her. “Where’s Officer Quincy?”
“He’s indisposed.” Chelsea chuckled.
“What about the campus security officer, Emmett? They’ll be coming.”
The slender woman blocked the exit, gripping a pistol. Her dark eyes narrowed and a reptilian smile creased her face. “Emmett? Oh, he’s doing great. The reason I’m here after all. For a smart doctor, you aren’t very perceptive.”
Keep her talking. Taya focused on Chelsea, determined not to draw her attention to the laptop or the receiver on her desk. “Why do you say that?”
“I told Emmett it was too much of a risk for him to be your ‘security guard.’” Chelsea made one-handed air quotes on the last words. “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize him from his daring rescue on the four-wheeler.” She rolled her eyes and tsked. “Too bad. If you’d paid better attention, you could’ve warned poor Officer Quincy.”
Taya swallowed. “Please, Chelsea, you don’t want to do this. The authorities are searching for you. Turn yourself in, tell them how Brando used you, and they’ll grant you leniency. You don’t deserve to pay for his misdeeds.”
The woman cackled and raised the gun higher. “All that academic knowledge has eliminated your common sense. You are stupid. So sad your boyfriend isn’t here to protect you this time.” Her tone shifted, growing cold and indifferent.
A chill crept down Taya’s spine.
“Yes, you will die. It’s the only way.”
* * *
Keegan had shot out of the bed at Taya’s call. As soon as Chelsea’s voice came across the line, he’d grabbed his jeans off the chair. The short hotel phone cord entangled him, and he fought to keep the receiver pressed tightly against his ear while grabbing his keys.
Horrified, he listened to the exchange between Taya and Chelsea. How had Brando’s girlfriend gotten into the lab?
No response or sign she’d lifted the receiver again. If he called out and Chelsea heard him, she’d hang up the phone. Maybe she wasn’t aware Taya had been talking to him.
His cell rang. Keegan tucked the hotel receiver against his left ear and stretched to reach his phone with his right hand. He glanced at the screen before answering. Wanda.
“She’ll-kill’er,” Wanda slurred.
“I’ll call you back.” Keegan strained to hear Taya’s side of the conversation.
“Brando will kill her.” Wanda enunciated the words slower.
“Brando’s in jail. He’s not killing anyone,” Keegan replied, patience evaporating.
“No, no.” She wheezed. “Lance is in jail. Brando doesn’t care.”
Keegan’s attention shifted. “Wanda. What’re you saying?”
“Brando.”
He had to help Taya, and Wanda’s words made no sense.
“I had to do it.”
Great. Of all the times in the world for Wanda to lose it and start tweaking again, she chose this moment to call.
“Wanda, I’ll call you back.”
He disconnected and dialed Hawk with one hand.
“I’m an early riser, Stryker, but this is ridiculous.”
“Hawk, get units to UNL now!” Keegan launched into a quick explanation.
“I’ll meet you there.” He hung up.
Keegan didn’t want to let go of the connection he had with Taya, but he had to release the hotel receiver. He set it on the bed, not wanting to hang up and alert Chelsea when the line disconnected.
Please, God, help her.
He sprinted from the room, down the hallway and into the stairwell. He blasted through the lobby doors and bolted for his car.
He drove straight to UNL. Thankfully, the early hour meant minimal traffic, but Keegan struggled to stay within the speed limit. Whipping into the parking lot, his gaze traveled to the familiar unmarked cruiser devoid of Officer Quincy. He slammed into Park, lunged out and jogged toward the building.
No light from the overhead streetlamps illuminated the walkway between Memorial Stadium and Oldfather Hall. Keegan glanced up. The broken bulbs conveyed a purposeful move. Gun in hand, he proceeded with caution. He didn’t have to walk far before confirming his apprehension.
A pair of men’s boots peeked from beneath a bush near the anthropology building’s outer doors. Keegan rushed to where the Lincoln PD officer man lay.
Keegan pressed his fingers against the officer’s neck and sighed relief at the strong pulse.
He groaned and Keegan helped him sit up. “What happened?”
“Not sure.” He put a hand against his head. “Got smacked on the head and everything went black. Where’s Dr. McGill?”
Anger rose, panic on its heels.
“Where did you last see her?”
“In her lab.”
“Help is on the way.” Keegan clutched his nine-millimeter tighter and hurried to Oldfather Hall. Where were Hawk and his backup?
He tugged on the door, surprised at the ease with which it opened. The access to the building should’ve been locked.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he glanced up. The security cameras were in place overhead, but instinct said they wouldn’t help him tonight.
He ran to the elevator and pressed the button, but no light illuminated. Keegan ran for the stairwell. The door opened a few inches, butting against something.
Keegan shoved all his weight against the metal, creating a space big enough to squeeze through. His foot slid on the wet linoleum, and he grasped the door for balance. He stepped backward and stumbled over the obstacle that had hindered his entrance.
A campus officer lay sprawled facedown. Once more, Keegan checked for a pulse. The man was alive but out for the count.
Keegan sprinted up the next flight, taking two and three steps at a time. He reached the landing for the seventh floor and rounded the corner.
A slam to his chest thrust him backward and he tumbled down the stairs. His nine-millimeter bounced through the railing and plummeted to the bottom. Keegan grasped the handrail and jerked himself upright. He backed against the wall on the sixth-floor landing.
Footsteps approached and a second campus officer stood above, staring down at him. The barrel of his gun grew to the size of a cannon, aimed at Keegan.
The officer grinned and hefted the pistol higher. Finger poised on the trigger.
The door behind the man opened. “Good job,” the officer said. “Wanda, come on out.”
Keegan shifted to the side as the familiar scraggly blond emerged. “You’re alive?”
She ignored him, focused on the officer. “Emmett, can I see Molly?”
Keegan’s mind raced. Wanda’s daughter had been in the system for over a year and with Wanda’s priors, current parole and drug rehab program still in the works, she didn’t meet the requirements to regain custody of her baby. Had this jerk used that to trip her up?
Emmett chortled. “No, stupid. You ain’t never gettin’ your brat. You’re a worthless mess.”
Something flickered in her eyes and she fisted her hands.
“Wanda. Where’s Dr. McGill?” Keegan purposefully used her title. If this imbecile thought he had feelings for Taya, he’d use it as a weapon.
“With Brando,” Wanda whimpered.
A blast echoed from above. Emmett turned at the noise, and Keegan launched himself at him, tackling Emmett into the door.
They shifted and rolled down the stairs, slamming onto the landing with such force Keegan’s teeth rattled.
He punched Emmett in the stomach. Emmett returned a hit to Keegan’s ribs, but adrenaline masked the pain.
Rolling himself over Emmett, he grabbed the man’s hand to force the gun from his grip. Knee digging into Emmett’s chest, Keegan banged his hand against the stair. He repeated the move twice until the pistol bounced free. The men wrestled as Keegan fought Emmett from recovering his weapon.
“Wanda, grab the gun!” Keegan ordered.
In his peripheral, she moved, but Keegan was busy battling Emmett. Several gut punches nearly had him puking.
Keegan beat his fist into Emmett’s smug face, but it was like hitting concrete. He tried again, hand throbbing. Unrelenting, Keegan thrust an elbow, connecting with the man’s nose. A satisfying crunch preceded a holler of pain.
Jumping to his feet, a blast sent Keegan jerking back. A dark stain grew on Emmett’s white uniform and he stilled.
Keegan turned.
Wanda clutched the pistol with both hands. Determination etched in her expression. “He lied about Molly.” Her eyes darted wildly from Emmett to Keegan.
“Wanda, put down the gun. You’re safe now,” he assured her, inching closer.
She nodded and dropped the weapon.
“Stay here, okay?”
She stared at the dead man.
“He won’t hurt you anymore,” Keegan said. “Help is coming.”
Wanda dropped to a squat, hugging herself. She rocked back and forth, and Keegan recognized the lullaby she hummed.
He snatched up the pistol, grabbed Emmett’s campus identification badge from his uniform and bolted up the stairs to the eighth floor, praying he wasn’t too late.
Keegan thrust open the stairwell door and sprinted down the hallway to the laboratory.
The double set of black glass doors were closed, but he spotted Taya inside. Chelsea’s arm was wrapped around her throat in a stranglehold, gun against her head.
Keegan pressed the ID against the electronic lock and the doors whooshed open. Gun gripped tightly and aimed at Chelsea, he entered the lab.
“Don’t come any closer,” Chelsea screeched, pushing the muzzle harder against Taya’s temple.
