Chapter Twenty

“Chita Mendez,” Kaplan flashed his badge at a harried nurse. “She just arrived here in an ambulance.”

“This way.” The nurse wheeled around and led them down a short hall to a waiting area. “Let me ask at the desk. They'll get the information about her condition.”

No one sat down as the nurse talked with a woman behind a glassed off desk.

The nurse left the room quickly without making eye contact. For tense moments they all waited until the nurse came back frowning.

“I'm sorry. She died in the ambulance en route to the hospital.”

Jacie turned to vent her fury on O'Donnell and saw no sign of him. “Where'd O'Donnell go?”

Womack vanished out the door, Kaplan on his heels. Brett quietly questioned the nurse. Jacie felt the guilt eating at her for questioning the woman in that awful apartment when the EMTs wanted to take her away.

Womack returned before Jacie was finished beating on herself.
“O’Donnell’s gone. I saw him run across the street and get into a car that seemed to be waiting for him.”

“How could O’Donnell have arranged a meeting with anyone?” Kaplan asked sharply. “He’s been cut off from outside communication.”

Kaplan’s alarm drew Jacie out of her anguish.

Kaplan added, “Hasn’t he?”

Womack and Kaplan stared at each other for a long minute. Then their eyes went to the bag O’Donnell had kept at his side through the entire mess. Kaplan went to the bag and rummaged around until he produced a cell phone.

“I never even searched him,” Womack punched the side of his fist into the wall. “We did several scans for electronic bugs, but if he kept the cell phone turned off, it might have escaped detection. Why would someone marked for death the way O’Donnell is, run away from his protection?”

Jacie and Brett exchanged a long look.

“We ran away,” Brett reminded them. “It wasn’t hard because you were trying to keep the bad guys out. You didn’t try to keep us in.”

Kaplan and Womack nodded.

An alarming thought invaded Jacie’s already overtaxed brain. “What if O’Donnell’s the leak?”

“The bomber tried to kill him at the lodge. He wouldn’t leak the information...”

“If the bomber tried to kill him, why isn’t he dead?”

“But if Chita’s involved with The Destroyer, then it makes sense that he’s doing this for revenge.”

“Retribution for Chita is a good motive, but come at it from a different angle,” Jacie insisted. “How closely have you looked into O’Donnell’s background? What if somehow this fifteen-year-old accusation came up again? Maybe O’Donnell had someone else accuse him of something. Didn’t you say he’s a college professor? You know creeps who hurt women or children or both aren’t one-time offenders. Maybe another young girl made charges. Maybe someone remembered this old crime.”

Brett snapped his fingers. “Like a member of O’Donnell’s old team.”

“Think about who is dead.” Jacie started pacing up and down the hallway. “The old team and Chita. Who had the most to lose if they go public?”

“O’Donnell.” Brett slid an arm around Jacie's waist and drew her to a halt.

Kaplan added, “Especially if he was facing sexual assault or harassment charges. I wanted to bring charges against him for the way he was looking at Jacie. If he treated a student or a fellow employee that way, he could have been fired, at the least.”

“And as arrogant as he is, he’d believe he was the injured party,” Jacie pointed out. “

“Think about the things Chita said. She’s in love with The Destroyer. And the bruises look like they’ve been dished out over a long period of time.”

“We don’t know the injuries are all from the bomber,” Womack cautioned.

Jacie said, “If he’s been involved with her, maybe he met her when he went to shut her up for O'Donnell. Maybe the Loona-Bomber changed sides. A woman who needed to be punished meets a man who likes to inflict pain.”

“Maybe O’Donnell isn’t as safe as he thinks he is,” Brett said.

“But where do you two come in? There is a motive for the rest of them, but why try to kill the two of you?” Kaplan asked.

“If we’re pinning the hits on O’Donnell, then it follows that he’s the one who wants you two dead,” Womack shook his head. “You’ve never met O’Donnell before, or seen him or heard of him?”

Jacie shook her head.

“Never,” Brett said.

Everyone stood in the hospital hallway, twisting the facts and the suppositions around trying to make sense of them. Jacie went back to pacing. Womack joined her. Kaplan leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Brett stood like a dividing line between the Hyperactives and the Laid Back, resting his elbow on an arm wrapped around his waist, rubbing one thumb across his lower lip.

Brett finally threw his arms wide. “Maybe, it’s just as simple as he’s crazy. He saw us at the hotel, and he got it in his head that we were somehow part of this and we had to die. I know whoever blew up my house...” Brett shuddered, “...was a madman. I don’t care if The Destroyer is a hired hand of O’Donnell’s, no one is safe around that lunatic.”

Kaplan pulled out his phone and started issuing orders to do a more extensive check on O’Donnell’s recent history.

“Don’t forget to check on unsolved sexual assaults near places he’s lived,” Womack said. “It’s probably been going on his entire life.”

“And sexual harassment problems at old jobs,” Brett added.

Kaplan hit the button to hang up his phone. “We won’t know much until we start getting info back on O’Donnell. For now, we need to find a place to keep you safe for the night.”

Kaplan pulled his phone out again. “I’ll make some arrangements with the local authorities. Womack, you pick a safe house.”

“With O’Donnell out of the picture,” Womack said, “if he was the leak, this one could actually be safe.”

Jacie smiled coldly at their protectors. “Well, that’d be a switch.”

 

 

 

 

O’Donnell scribbled the number of his bank account so quickly is was unreadable.

The Destroyer jerked the paper away, then backhanded O’Donnell hard enough to send him crashing backward over his chair. The Destroyer kicked O’Donnell in the stomach, mindful of the ribs he’d broken earlier, aware of the fine line between pain and death. He leaned over and jerked on that head full of overlong hair O’Donnell was so proud of. He lifted O’Donnell and hissed into his ear, “Write it again. This time so I can read it.”

O’Donnell had been his first customer. He’d been cruising bars shopping for help with a ‘woman’ problem. He’d told the Destroyer who needed to be shut up, money had changed hands.

The Destroyer had killed a lot of people for a lot of money over the years. O’Donnell came to him now and then, and the Destroyer always remembered who had given him his start.

But now The Destroyer’s loyalty had shifted to Chita. O’Donnell would hand over everything. The Destroyer didn’t need the money, but the point was atonement. Then the Destroyer would get Chita and disappear, go somewhere far away.

But there were two more to kill first. The Destroyer looked at O’Donnell’s quivering, battered face. It wasn’t time for O’Donnell to die yet.