Undercover Elite (Undercover Elite Book 2) (18 page)

Dr. Brinkley

“Windy, you seem to be having a difficult time sleeping. If you need something to help I can write you a prescription.” I note the reservation in her expression and continue before she can reply. “Nothing says you have to take it. It will just enable you to have something on hand if you need it.”

“That’s true. I think I’m still adjusting to my schedule. I got some troubling news last night. The man who accosted me in the elevator, well, somebody killed him.”

I act like I don’t know her boyfriend is working on a car theft ring. I read all about it on her laptop memory I loaded onto the flash drive. I’ve also placed spyware on her computer. She’d be shocked to know she’s become my favorite hobby as she studies and goes about her…more personal business. Years ago when I had my home security system enhanced to monitor the hospital’s private wing that houses our criminally insane, I began studying how to hack into systems. The technical age has opened up a whole new world for those of us who are given to the act of stalking. I enjoy the power of a good stalk. There’s nothing quite like watching someone when they have no idea eyes are on them. People let their guard down when they believe no one is around. Turnabout is fair play; after all, they did break into my office. I need to keep an eye on those two.

“I’m certain with the element he associates with he has or had enemies,” I suggest benignly. “When you run with criminals, you have to expect these kinds of things will happen. I just hate that you’re being subjected to danger because of the man you’re dating.” I lean in her direction in an effort to close the emotional space between us, even though I’m still seated at my desk. It’s a trust-building move, demonstrating to her that I’m concerned for her safety. And I am concerned, very much so; but I’m attempting to lay blame on her boyfriend for her present predicament. I’m still pissed at these two for breaking into my office; what would be more gratifying than to cause a bit of discord in their little corner of the world?

“I hardly think I’d go so far as to say my life is in danger.”

“A man accosted you on the elevator. He had to have followed you here, that gang he ran with may even know where you live. Maybe you should think about going back home to live with your parents.”

“This man’s death has nothing to do with me, Dr. Brinkley.”

That man’s death has everything to do with you, my dear.
She has no reason to think I was anywhere near that man last night, and certainly not because of her. Most people would never have the nerve to confront a man who is a member of a deadly gang. But I’m not afraid of a gangbanger or anyone else.

Thorn

More and more, it seems that my suspicions of Windy’s boss being dangerous are justified. Could this guy be crazy enough to kill that kid down by the river because he had threatened Windy? I, of all people, understand the need to protect her, but that’s to be expected because I take care of what’s mine. The doctor is showing signs of obsession and that’s never a good thing. It doesn’t take much for someone who has developed a fixation on a woman to become a danger to the same person they believe they love—if I’m right, I’ll be here to protect her.

I hate cases like this. I know the guy’s guilty of
something
, but I have no proof. All I can do is warn Windy about what to look for and keep an eye on her.

“Well, that was wild finding our guy dead last night, wasn’t it?”

I look up to see Harley lowering himself into the leather chair on the opposite side of my desk, leisurely stretching his long legs out. The guy doesn’t sit; he sprawls. “Who do you think did it?” he asks.

“Well, it’s just a theory, but I can’t shake the fact that the doc Windy works for always manages to be around when something bad happens. I found out last night that kid followed Windy to work and threatened her in the elevator. The doctor went crazy on him and had him thrown out of the building. The guy was only half-conscious when he hit the sidewalk. What’s the Hippocratic Oath doctors have to take…Do No Harm? Jesus...”

“Are you sayin’ you think he’s got a thing for your woman and he killed the kid because of it?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a psychiatrist has turned out to be a kook.”

“Man…that’s some scary shit. Oh, and nobody says ‘kook’ anymore.”

“Asshole. All the more reason for me to keep an eye on him. I’ve never felt good about the guy.”

“That’s the green-eyed monster talking, dude.”

“Maybe so, but I’ll be damned if I’m taking a chance with the life of the woman I love. I’m telling you, Harley, there is something about this guy I don’t like. Oh, and nobody says ‘green-eyed monster.’”

“Dick… Seriously, dude, you’re jealous. And you just said you love her.”

I always enjoy conversations with Harley. He doesn’t talk, he spars. We both know we’re just giving each other shit, but to outside observers it can look pretty intense sometimes.

“It isn’t just that. Behind all the designer suits is a seriously troubled individual with a dark side. The guy’s got demons he’s dealing with and I won’t be satisfied until I find out what they are. And about the other thing…yeah, I do.”

“I hate to break it to you, Thorn, but we’ve all got demons. Some of us are just better at making sure they don’t come out to play.”

Harley gets up from his seat and approaches my desk with his hand extended. I know he’s referring to Windy when he clasps my hand in a firm handshake and says without a hint of his usual smartass humor, “Hey, man. Respect.”

Dr. Brinkley

I hear a commotion in the hall outside my office, and as soon as I look up from my desk I know there’s going to be drama – indiscreet, rip-roaring drama. I loathe drama, but my ex-girlfriend, Deana, has no problem with it, which she demonstrates as she storms into my office and throws her purse down on top of the case file that lays open on my desk.

As is her way, she gets right to the point. “Is this her? Is this your new assistant?”

After fucking Deana for six mediocre months last year, I know that subtlety will accomplish nothing. So I’m direct. “Get out of here Deana! This is neither the place nor time for this discussion.”

No surprise, she ignores me and directs her attention at a horrified Windy. At first glance, she seems paralyzed behind her desk, but I see her hand inching toward the red panic button located on the underside of her center desk drawer. I hope to rid us of Deana’s presence without involving our security staff, but perhaps it isn’t such a bad idea. I’ll see how it plays out.

Deana wastes no time unleashing her tirade. “He’s crazy. Do you know he’s in love with a killer? Watch your back! She got rid of me and she’ll get rid of you. That crazy bitch has more power in prison than the average person free on the streets. She’s got it in her head she’s in love with him and she’ll kill anybody she views as competition.”

“I have a boyfriend; I’m not interested in Dr. Brinkley.”

“She’s a crazy bitch, stay away from her. You work with him, so she’ll see you as a threat. Like I said; watch your back--”

“Restraining orders mean nothing to you, I see?” I ask, and she has the good graces to look a little shamefaced. “No closer than fifty feet, Deana, and not on hospital property. You’re fucking up on not one, but two, levels. If I were you, I’d get the hell out before my security staff,” I give a nod toward the door where two of my men are waiting for her, “give you more help than you might feel comfortable with.”

“That…that woman…got me fired. I struck her in self-defense and you know it! She had it in for me the whole time I worked for you, and you did nothing to stop her. You ruined my career,” she sobs, “and you broke my heart.”

“I will say this once more and never again,” I warn her softly. “The security footage didn’t support your claim--”

“The film was altered, it had to be!” she yells, prompting the guards to quietly advance on her.

“And,” I continue on as if she hasn’t spoken, “nondescript, utterly forgettable fucking for a few months does not a relationship make. I never once misled you and will not tolerate your antics. Abide by the terms of the restraining order or the next time we talk will be in a courtroom. Gentlemen?” I gesture to the guards to remove her.

With that she grabs her purse, scattering pages from the file all over the floor and storms out of my office, slamming the door behind her.
Wretched woman.
Now I have to try and clean up the mess she made—in more ways than one. She was a fuck-up when I was using her body occasionally, and now she’s causing problems for me again. I will not have her unduly distressing Miss Fairchild.

I take a chance getting up and making my way over to Windy. I kneel down next to her chair and wrap my arms around her.
One white knight, coming right up,
I think with a smirk.

“Is it true?” she asks weakly. “Have you developed a fixation on your patient?” I stand and lean a hip against the side of her desk, crossing my arms in front of me in what I hope is a pensive pose.

“Perhaps. But not to the point of her being a danger to me. Or to you,” I say in my compassionate, sincere professional voice. She pulls away looking up at me with a determined gleam in her eyes.

“You know she’s dangerous and that your ex has a point. Deana may have been picking up on something you don’t see. Don’t let your history with her cloud your judgment.”

“It isn’t like that…” I just need time to convince her that my patient’s place is with me. I don’t need anyone raising red flags about my supervision of Georgia’s case -- certainly not that obsessed, worthless cunt, Deana. “I see a lot of myself in you,” I say as I make my way back to my desk, pausing only to pick up the two pages of my file that ended up on the floor. “Your eagerness to get to the bottom of why people do the heinous things they do. You want to give families closure and I find that admirable. But rest assured, Georgia isn’t a danger to me and I would never let her be a danger to anyone else.”