Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2 (12 page)

Lonnie's head listed slightly to the side. Her eyes were open and showed petechial hemorrhaging. A thin dark bruise circled her neck above the collar of her scrubs.

Sami holstered her weapon, slid on a pair of gloves and checked Lonnie's pulse. She was dead. Sami didn't need a medical examiner to announce the cause of death. She'd been strangled. And the weapon, a computer cord, lay coiled on the floor like a snake ready to strike.

Another realization slammed into Sami and she snatched her hand back.

“She's still warm.” Alarmed, she met Drew's gaze. Lonnie hadn't been dead long. “If Corben's on a plane to New York, then—” Her lungs seized, refusing to take in oxygen.

“Then Birdman has a partner. And he's on the loose.” Drew finished her thought. His grim voice matched the expression on his face.

The ramifications sliced through her. She still wasn't safe. No one was safe. “Uh, so I told my boss you would act as my, uh, bodyguard until this was over.”

Drew's expression softened. “You don't have to ask. And I'm honored. I know accepting protection is hard for you.”

It dawned on her how well he'd come to know her in such a short time. The knowledge was alarming and yet made her feel cared for, special.

But it didn't matter how she felt. She'd made a gross error. “I failed Lonnie.” Disappointment bowed her shoulders. “How could I have been so wrong?”

Drew pulled her close, wrapping her in a soothing cocoon. “Don't. There was no way
we
could've known she would be a victim.”

She rested her forehead against his chest. “But why?” She fisted her hands. A hot fury flushed through her. “Why would Corben allow this? She loved him. It doesn't make sense.”

“We can't hope to know the mind of a psychopath.”

She straightened and couldn't keep the venom she felt from invading her voice. “I'd like to crawl inside his head and scramble his brains.”

Drew smiled and the impact was like a cooling spray of spring water on the hot fire of her anger. “Maybe you can when the New York federal agents pick him up.”

“Yeah.” Sami wasn't sure she'd get the opportunity to interview Corben. Now that the brass had taken an interest in him, the higher-ups would do the heavy lifting. “Do you think Corben's partner was afraid Lonnie would point us in his direction?”

“Or hers.”

“Right. Could be a woman.” She sighed and looked around, realizing there were wooden photo frames turned upside down on the floor and broken pieces of glass glinting in the sun. She adjusted her gloves and picked up a frame. The picture had been taken out. She checked the other frames. “They're all empty.”

“The partner protecting Corben.”

“Or him or herself.”

Talbot walked in. “Local police are here. Our forensic team is on their way.”

Sami nodded her thanks. “Where are we on obtaining a judge's order for Dr. Cantwell's file on Corben Kraft?”

“I'll check on it.” Talbot headed back outside, already on his cell.

“It's good to have minions,” Sami remarked drily.

“It's good to work with a team,” Drew replied.

She met his clear dark eyes, hit once again by the force of her trust in him. “True.”

It was good to work with him. But she couldn't let herself get too used to having him around. The warm, almost heady feeling he gave her drained away. This partnership was temporary, she reminded herself, and for a single goal—to stop Birdman.

Once Corben Kraft and his partner were behind bars, Drew would return to his life and his work with IBETs, and she'd move on to the next case. Without Drew.

Purposely, she turned away from Drew and made a slow search of the studio apartment, looking for anything that might help them to understand Corben and why he, or his partner, had wanted Lonnie dead.

She paused at the desk in the corner where a computer monitor took up most of the space on the desktop. Next to it was a raised platform where a laptop would sit, acting like a desktop computer. The platform was empty. “The killer took her computer.”

“More pictures?”

“Possibly. Or information on the dummy corporation that provided a home for Becca and her son.”

“You think Lonnie was involved?” Drew stared at her with a quizzical expression. “I didn't get the impression Lonnie was hiding anything.”

“She had to have known about the house in Detroit, right?”

“Maybe. But if a dummy corporation bought it, then maybe Lonnie expected that the company had reclaimed the place.”

“Could be.” Her gaze slid back to Lonnie. Her heart ached at the loss. “We may never know.”

Talbot returned. “An agent will meet us at Dr. Cantwell's office with a judge's order.”

Drew headed toward the front door. “Let's see if the doctor can shed some light on the situation.”

* * *

“What do you mean, the doctor left?” Sami's incredulous voice rose, rousing the interest of two of the three people waiting to see the doctor.

Drew did a quick assessment of the three people in the quiet waiting area. A family, he guessed. The husband glanced at his watch, clearly annoyed by the delay. The nervous mother darted a glance from her husband to her teenage son and back. The boy, probably about fifteen, sat slouched in the chair with earbuds clinging to his ears, the cord running to an electronic device tucked inside the pocket of his shirt. A bomb could go off and the kid wouldn't notice.

“She stepped out right after you left.” The receptionist lowered her voice. “She said she'd be right back but she hasn't returned.”

Drew focused on the receptionist. “Did she receive a phone call before she left?”

The receptionist shook her head. “Not through the office phone.”

“But she has a private phone,” Sami said. “We need that number.”

The woman quickly wrote the doctor's private cell number on a sticky note and handed it over to Sami.

“We have a judge's order for Dr. Cantwell's file on Corben Kraft.” Drew gestured to the FBI agent, who handed the order over to the receptionist.

“Uh, Dr. Cantwell would need to find it. She's very particular about her files,” she said, clearly unnerved.

“We'll find the file,” Sami said.

The receptionist rose. “I don't think Dr. Cantwell would want you in her office without her here.”

“Doesn't matter with a judge's order.” Sami opened the door to the office and went inside.

Drew followed. The office looked exactly as it had a few hours ago, except the doctor wasn't behind her desk.

“I'll take the filing cabinet. You check her desk,” Sami said as she opened a file drawer marked with the letters
I-J-K
.

Drew moved to the desk and opened the large file drawers. He checked the names on the files. No Corben Kraft.

“It's not here,” Sami said slamming the cabinet drawer closed.

“Not here either.” Drew checked the shallow middle drawer to find a plethora of pens, paper clips and prescription pads. Something caught his eye. Using a pen, he pushed the pads aside. On the bottom of the drawer was a bird drawing.

“She must have taken it with her.” Sami's frustration echoed in her words.

“Look at this.” Drew made room for her to step beside him.

“That bird again.” She shook her head. “What does it mean?”

“And how did it get here?” Drew shut the drawer. “I didn't peg Dr. Cantwell as homicidal but...”

“She could be Corben's cohort. I don't think it's coincidence that she disappeared after our visit.”

“Right.” Drew had a hard time wrapping his brain around the concept. “So after trying to kill you three times, Corben flees after following us from Victoria. He finds out we talked to his aunt.”

“She could've called him,” Sami stated. “We need to get Lonnie's phone records.”

“So Lonnie calls Corben while we're talking to Dr. Cantwell.”

Sami nodded. “Then while we're at Corben's house, Dr. Cantwell takes Corben to the airport, where he gets on a plane bound for New York, where he could hop on another plane to leave the country.”

“And then Dr. Cantwell drives to Redmond and kills Lonnie?” Drew shook his head. “You've seen the traffic out there. How could she get from her office to Sea-Tac Airport and then Redmond in the amount of time it took us to search Corben's house?”

“Driving in the car pool lane?” Sami guessed. She shrugged. “Once we find her, we can ask her.”

Drew stepped into the waiting area. “We need Dr. Cantwell's home address.”

The receptionist bit her lip and regarded him with uncertainty. “I don't think the doctor would want me to give out her private address.”

“We could charge you with obstruction of justice,” Sami said, joining Drew. The threat was becoming her favorite shtick.

The receptionist hesitated a second or two, then nodded. On another sticky note, she wrote down the doctor's home address.

They left the doctor's office and headed to the Queen Anne neighborhood northwest of downtown Seattle. Traffic crawled up the tight streets of the hill that made up the popular and posh area. Talbot did his best to maneuver around cars but the sea of vehicles was thick. Drew took a page from Sami and tapped his foot impatiently, his tempo matching the drumming of her fingers on the door handle.

Finally they reached the doctor's residence, a Queen Anne–style home like most of the other houses from which the area took its name. The house sat perched on the side of the hill with spectacular views of Elliott Bay and the Puget Sound.

Drew whistled through his teeth. “Nice place.”

“Worth a few million,” Sami said as they stepped onto the wide wraparound porch.

Drew knocked. The house remained quiet. Eerily so.

Exchanging glances, they separated, going in opposite directions, peering into the house through the large windows. They worked together like a well-oiled machine. Words weren't necessary.

They met in the back of the house. There was no sign of anyone in the house, no car in the carport. Disappointment seeped through Drew but he refused to give in to hopelessness. God had led them this far; He'd lead them the rest of the way.

“Place looks empty,” Sami commented. “But we'll have an agent sit on the house in case the doctor comes home. If she's Corben's accomplice, maybe she's running, as well.”

“Perhaps the doctor left with Corben?” Drew's lip curled. “She's been treating him since he was eight.” The professional, regal woman they'd met earlier that day came to mind. Drew shook his head. “I have a hard time envisioning Dr. Cantwell and Corben in a romantic tryst.”

“Yeah, that seems unlikely but then again...” Sami shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

TWELVE

A
n hour later Sami restlessly paced the office of the Seattle FBI's SAC—special agent in charge. Drew leaned on the edge of the desk and loosened his tie. Talbot and his SAC both stood near the large windows that looked out of the high-rise building, which sat on a corner, surrounded by similar structures. The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the blue-carpeted offices and making her aware of her exhaustion.

A sofa pushed up against one wall was tempting. She needed to rest, but there was still work to be done. She rubbed the temples of her aching head.

Talbot brought his SAC up-to-date on Corben and Dr. Cantwell. “We've got a BOLO out for Dr. Cantwell.”

Which meant that all law enforcement agencies would be on the lookout for her. She wouldn't be able to board a plane or train or bus easily. And if she was traveling by car...well, the license number, make and model of her Mercedes-Benz were in the hands of every police officer, trooper and federal agent across the country, not to mention at all the border crossings.

Corben's plane was still in the air, winging its way to New York and the waiting FBI agents. There was nothing left for Sami and Drew to do.

Except...Sami had an uneasy sense that it was all too easy.

“As slippery as Birdman, aka Corben Kraft, has been up to this point, why would he telegraph where to capture him?” Sami said aloud.

“And what's Dr. Cantwell's part in all of this?” Drew said.

Sami contemplated what Drew said. “I agree with you it seems highly unlikely that Dr. Cantwell and Corben are linked romantically.”

“But that doesn't mean they can't both share an affinity for murder.”

A shiver of dismay made goose pimples rise on Sami's arms. “Could the doctor have killed Lonnie Freeman? Why?”

Drew shook head, his expression perplexed. “And the missing computer. What's on it that's worth killing for?”

“And don't forget the house in Michigan,” Sami stated. “Who paid for it?”

Sami blew out a breath that did nothing to relieve her tension. “I'll call Jordon.” She plucked her phone from her pants pocket.

When he answered, she said, “Talk to me. Tell me you have a name for the person who paid for Becca's house.”

“Sorry, not yet,” Jordon said.

Discouraged, she sat on the suede sofa and sank into the comfortable cushions. “Bummer.”

“However, I did find out something about James Clark.”

“He's been found?” Sami couldn't stem the tide of hope. If he was alive, then maybe he could tell them why Corben had his credit card.

“No, he's still missing. His company is in disarray. Seems Mr. Clark was the heart and soul of Jaybird Aviation.”

The name slammed through Sami's brain. Jaybird. Ugh. More birds. Drew had mentioned Clark owned an aviation company but at the time the knowledge held no significance.

Now... Did the fact Clark owned an aviation firm tie into Corben being a pilot? Had Corben worked for James Clark?

No, Lonnie had said Corben went straight from the military to the airline. So was Clark a victim or an accomplice? “Tell me about his company.”

“Jaybird Aviation specializes in the production and manufacturing of parts and accessories for the commercial and military aerospace industry. James inherited the company from his father. They've been in business since the mid-'50s.”

“Why the name Jaybird?”

“According to their website, Jay was the father's name. Maybe he added the word
bird
because of the reference to flying. But the interesting thing is James took over for his father thirty-eight years ago.”

“Around the same time that Becca Kraft's house was bought.” Sami could see the dots starting to line up but they weren't fitting together yet. “There has to be a connection between Clark's company and the corporation that purchased and still pays for Becca's house in Michigan.”

And a connection between James and Corben. Was James Clark Corben's father?

“If you're right about a connection, I haven't found it yet,” Jordon said. “You asked if I could find out if James Clark was in Victoria at the time of Becca Kraft's murder.”

Her pulse sped up. “Was he?”

Drew pushed away from the desk and moved to sit beside her. At his questioning look, she pointed to the phone and said, “Jordon has information on Clark.” Into the phone she said, “So was he in Victoria?”

She tilted the phone so Drew could hear the answer. He pressed his head next to hers. The scent of his aftershave teased her senses and distracted her from Jordon's answer. She mentally forced herself to listen.

“I can't confirm that he was in Victoria, but I found a rental agreement with his name on it for a vacation home on Vancouver Island for around the same time.”

Sami mulled that over. “Was he with his wife?” His kids wouldn't have been born yet.

“I don't know. That'd be something your inspector could have his people ask Mrs. Clark.”

“Thanks, Jordon. Let me know if you find out anything else.” She hung up and quickly relayed the information about the Clarks' business to Drew.

“Let me get someone out to the Clark house to ask the wife about Victoria,” Drew said, and used his cell to make the call.

When he was done, Sami said, “The house in Michigan bugs me. I want to go there. It could have answers for us.”

Drew considered her for a moment. “All right. Let's do it.”

* * *

Since the next available flight to Detroit was in the morning, they spent the night in a hotel by Sea-Tac Airport in separate but connected rooms. They shared a late meal, then retired to their rooms. Sami had asked if he'd mind keeping the connecting door open. He hadn't. Acting as her protector filled him with a sense of responsibility he'd never had before. Not that he thought Sami wasn't capable of defending herself, but he was glad to watch her back.

When the alarm went off the next morning, Drew and Sami grabbed a quick bite from the hotel's continental breakfast and then rushed to the airport terminal to catch their flight. By the time they arrived at Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport, Drew's limbs were stiff from sitting for so long. His phone had died midflight, as well. He stopped at a kiosk in the airport and bought a car charger, which he plugged into the rental car.

He let Sami drive the thirty minutes to the house on Bloomington Drive in the Detroit suburb of Franklin. The sun was setting; the last few rays of light glinted off the house's numbers.

She brought the sedan to a halt on the curve of a cul-de-sac. The Kraft home was set off the road. It was an eyesore. Abandoned, uncared for. The shrubbery was overgrown and weeds had overtaken the tall grass. Windows were boarded up. The front porch sagged and the screen door hung off its hinges, making Drew think a good wind could send the metal and mesh door flying.

“Doesn't look like anyone has been here in a long time,” Sami stated, opening her car door.

“I'm sure the neighbors are thrilled,” Drew commented as he stepped out of the vehicle.

Compared to the more temperate weather of Seattle, Michigan was hot. But not nearly as hot as Arizona, for which Drew was thankful. He'd take a bit of humidity and high eighties over the blazing heat of the desert any day. But his cotton dress shirt still stuck to his skin. He rolled up the sleeves. Sami, however, appeared unperturbed by the weather.

She looked fresh in her flowered top and black utility pants tucked inside her boots. She'd twisted her hair up and secured it in back with a clip. He remembered the way all that blond hair had looked flowing over her shoulders. He wanted to pluck the clip out to let the strands dance free. Instead he put one hand on his weapon and used the other to bat away a bee.

Carefully picking their way through the knee-high grass, Drew and Sami reached the porch stairs.

“Watch your step,” he cautioned. The wood groaned beneath his weight as he stepped onto the porch.

Sami's phone rang. She paused on the bottom step to answer. “Agent Bennett.”

Drew tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. Caution tripped down his spine. He placed a hand on the butt of his gun. Figuring Sami would be right behind him in a moment, he pushed the door open. The house was dark inside because boards covered the windows. He had just crossed the threshold when a trapdoor in the floor beneath him gave way.

Stunned, his arms windmilling, searching for something to grab on to, he fell into inky blackness.

* * *

With her back to the house, Sami's jaw dropped. She couldn't have heard Agent Talbot correctly. “Wait! What? Corben Kraft wasn't on the airplane when it landed in New York? How can that be? Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?”

“We wanted to make sure he hadn't slipped through,” the agent explained. “I did call you earlier but it went to voice mail.”

Because she'd been on a plane and then hadn't checked her messages. She'd been too intent on reaching the house.

Talbot went on to tell her that apparently, Corben had hired someone to pose as him for a thousand dollars and a free flight to New York. Which meant Corben hadn't left Seattle. At least not the way they'd thought. Talbot assured her they had every available officer in the state of Washington looking for Corben.

Sami looked toward the house and frowned. Drew had gone inside without her.

“Keep me updated,” she told the agent.

She jammed the phone into her pocket and carefully went up the porch stairs. Rage burned like acid in her gut. Corben had played them. She'd known it had been too easy. While they were laying a trap for him in New York, he was... She didn't know where he'd gone. Was he still in Seattle? Had he crossed the border and was now in Canada or headed south through Oregon and California to Mexico?

She could only hope God saw fit to give her the knowledge necessary to capture Birdman.

She paused at the front door of the abandoned house. The interior was pitch-black. A musty, moldy scent hit her in the face. She wrinkled her nose. This wouldn't be good for her allergies.

“Drew?” she called out.

Silence met her voice.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. Caution sent her senses into overdrive. The absolute lack of noise ratcheted the creep factor to high. She certainly wouldn't go inside alone.

But Sami wasn't alone. Drew was here, somewhere in the house, and she wasn't going to let fear derail her from her training.

With one hand on her weapon, she stepped inside the house. The floor creaked beneath her feet. Through the light coming in from the open door at her back she could tell the house was empty. No furniture to bump into, nothing to trip over. But shadows concealed the corners of the wide room she guessed was the living room.

Where was Drew?

She ventured farther into the house and could just make out the darker outline of a hallway straight ahead. “Drew?”

A whisper of noise from behind her startled her. She whirled around just as the front door slammed shut, throwing her into complete darkness. No light came through the slats of the boarded-up windows.

Terror streaked through her. Immediately, she crouched, making herself less of a target. With shaking hands, she dug out her phone, intending to use the flashlight feature, but before she could turn it on, something knocked the phone from her hand. The device skittered away and so did she until her back hit the wall.

Her mind scrambled to comprehend what was happening even as muscle memory kicked in and she pulled her gun. An assailant hid in the dark. Corben? Dr. Cantwell?

What happened to Drew?

Her partner could be hurt. Or worse, dead. Bile burned her throat. The thought of losing another partner twisted her heart. But her priority had to be eliminating the danger.

Still in a crouch and leading with a two-handed grip on her gun, she moved slowly in the direction of what she hoped was the front door. She mentally ticked off the steps. The dark overwhelmed her, playing havoc with her equilibrium. She bumped into something solid and froze. Her pulse jumped. Not a wall, and there was no furniture.

Panic jolted through her. She jumped away and whipped around, looking for a target. But the blackness concealed the threat.

If it were Drew, he'd say something, right?

The scuff of a shoe on the wooden floor sounded as loud as a gunshot.

“Drew?” she whispered.
Please, dear God, let Drew be okay.

She prayed nothing had happened to him...not only because he was her partner, but because, she was forced to acknowledge, she cared for the big Canadian. Maybe could even let herself love him if given a chance.

Something touched her hair. She jumped sideways, hesitant to fire until she located Drew. Her bullet could find him by mistake.

The door. She had to find the door and get out. But then what? Leave Drew inside? No, she couldn't do that. But if she could open the door, light would reveal the person lurking in the shadows and she could neutralize the threat. She inched her way in the direction of the door.

In the back of her mind, this all felt familiar. Like something she'd seen in a movie or on television. Then it came to her with a sinking sensation in her gut. Her heart beat at a rapid clip, she struggled to breathe. If she weren't living this, she'd never believe it. They were playing out a scene from a popular thriller. Had the movie been the impetus that started Corben on his killing spree? Art becoming reality. “Corben, is that you?”

A snickering came from her right. She spun around.

“It's me.” A singsong voice assaulted her from behind. “You are clever, Agent Bennett, as I knew you would be.”

“What did you do with Drew?” she demanded, though her voice didn't hold as much threat as it did fear.

“Oh, you'll see soon enough.”

The disembodied voice had moved. She homed in on the spot where she thought he was and fired.