Shattered by Death (A Jo Oliver Thriller Book 2) Read online

  Gino must’ve been making some serious bank on this one. You’d never know it by looking at him, though. He kept most everything he did on the down-low. Except for his faith, and his choice of hot little sports cars, of course. And then there were his stories of a host of orphanages, schools, and church plants all over the world he seemed to bankroll single-handedly. Would it kill a guy to talk a little more about killer-hunting technology and a little less about suffering for Jesus?

  Much as I respected him for his habitual self-sacrifice on behalf of others, I was dying of curiosity about his professional world. But Gino had his own timetable. His stories included what he thought I needed most, when he thought I was most open to hearing it. More often than not, his twenty-first century espionage skills took a back seat to the gospel. Fair enough. First things first.

  Gino led the way to his black SUV. He’d had it tricked out with lots of security features, most of which were borderline legal in this or any other country. When would I have time to have him walk me through the special upgrades?

  He held the passenger door open for me. “Señora?”

  I air-kissed his cheeks and got in, smiling. He headed us back down Highway 120, well-acquainted with the route. Gino was my mother’s most gracious and patient visitor. It must’ve irked him to think there had been something going on under our noses for quite some time. It sure bugged the heck out of me.

  “You must tell me all that is going on between you and your good saint Nicolas. He remains as handsome as ever, and yet you seem to have grown a little cold. Why is this so?” Gino doubled down on his accent.

  Must’ve been gearing up for a real good lecture. One I’d just as soon miss. Fat chance. “I can’t have him coddling me in front of the guys, for one. Heck, I can’t have him coddling me period. I mean, I get it. I do. There’s a lot of crap going down in all directions, but I like to think I handled it all alright before he came along, and that I’ll handle it all just fine the day he drifts off in the middle of the night.”

  “Ah. That is the whole enchilada, m’hija. Tienes miedo.”

  “No, I’m not! I’m not afraid. I’d call it more a low-grade, ever-present annoyance. But if I was, what would I be afraid of?”

  “Death. Death by falling in love, having to trust a man again, of having to dive in and see whether or not his arms are strong enough to support you both.” Gino slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

  “But what if what I need right now is a little time alone? Fewer arms, more solitude? I don’t know if I want to jump into a relationship with Nick right now, G—it’s too soon. I don’t even know who I am anymore. With Nick or without him. With Del or without him. I just don’t know.”

  “That is why you must seek the Lord in prayer. He will lead you, but you must go to Him first. He wants nothing more than for you to delight yourself in Him.” Gino was on a roll.

  “But if I can’t trust a man, how can I possibly trust God?” There it is.

  “M’hija. God loves you. And He is not a man. He will never break His promises. He is the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. And I believe His plan for you will include the perfect man for you. Maybe even an Italian.” He winked.

  “So, that’s what? A push in the Nick direction? Again, not so fast, not so sure. And please don’t get me started on the will of God. I’ve been praying and asking Him for guidance. I swear I have. So far, I got nothin’. All I know is, I’m on edge. Seems like it’s time for me to make a decision. And I’m leaning toward taking a break from Nick.” The last row of cornfields flew past us. We’d be at my mom’s very soon.

  A slight smile crept across Gino’s face. His profile was regal and uncompromising, like my father. When was the last time my father had even called my mother? He knew she was here.

  My father was a multi-decorated vet and something of a rogue himself. He and Mike McCaskey had served our country with distinction, earning their Purple Hearts in concert. One-time foxhole buddies, now my father was in a retirement community in another state, and McCaskey was working for me. As far as I knew, they hadn’t spoken for thirty years.

  And all the Purple Hearts in the world didn’t seem to matter to either of them now.

  As we pulled into the parking lot of Riverside, I pushed my maudlin thoughts aside and turned to look at Gino.

  “I guess I just need to know that I can live this life alone and be happy. Thrive and not just survive, even if it means I go it alone for the rest of the journey. And what about Sam? Shouldn’t I make sure I can handle the whole motherhood thing solo before adding a man to the equation? Having Nick front and center just muddies the waters for me right now. Keeps me believing the fantasy that I need someone else to make me complete—that focusing on Nick is enough to keep me happy. And it’s not, G.” I looked down at my hands. My voice had grown quiet.

  “That is a good thing, m’hija. A very good thing. For only God can take that rightful place on the throne of your life, and He will not give it to another. Not even one as handsome as our Nick. Perhaps God is calling you to give Nick and your marital status over to Him, to lay them both like a sacrifice at the foot of the cross. Amada, God is bigger than your divorce.” Gino’s voice was strong, rich, Columbian, full-bodied coffee after a month of freeze-dried decaf.

  The audio screen on the console lit up with three life changing letters: SAM. Gino’s Bluetooth automatically connected with my phone whenever we were in his truck. Another advantage of having a techno-geek for a friend.

  I pressed the button to accept her call.

  “Hello, darling girl!” Joy warmed my voice.

  “Josie! I miss you! Where are you?” Samantha’s girlish trilling rang throughout the car.

  Gino turned to me and smiled. I nodded.

  “Como estas tu? Un abrazo fuerte de Tio Gino para ti, Carina.”

  “Tio Gino! When are you coming to see me?” Sam’s excitement warmed my soul. I winced at her question.

  “Very soon, bonita. And I will have a little regalo for you.”

  “I love you, Sam. And I can’t wait to see you again… very soon. Uncle G and I are in the middle of a big investigation. When it’s over, we’ll both come and give you the biggest hugs ever.” I kept my tone upbeat.

  “And a regalo?”

  “Si, bonita!” Gino reached over and gave my hand a squeeze.

  “When?” A hint of a whine from the bravest little girl I knew.

  “Soon, sweetheart. Soon.” My fingers caressed the volume button.

  “Okay. Gotta go! I love you, Tio! I love you, Josie! Bye!” Sam ended the call, breathless and happy sounding.

  Gino glanced at me. “You two are perfection itself together. You know this, verdad?”

  “I do. It’s just, I worry all the time. I love her, and I can’t wait to have her in my life—in my arms, in my home—full-time. But I’m scared to death. And I don’t even know what to do with Nick in the midst of all of this. Does he even want to be a father? Will having him around while I sort out my own crazy feelings just confuse her? I don’t know, G.” I shook my head, trying to get in front of the pressure building behind my temples. A remnant of yesterday’s migraine? I hoped not.

  “What we do know, m’hija, is that God has placed both Samantha and Nick in your life for a reason, and He is bigger than your fears.”

  “Here’s hoping He’s also bigger than this psycho. Let’s go in there and figure out where she’s taken Angela Murray.” I opened my door and was about to spin out of the seat when Gino’s paw found my shoulder.

  “Let us do more than hope.” Gino took my hand in his, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, we come before Thee, begging Thy divine intervention as we come to this place in Thy holy name to do Thy work. We love Thee, Dios todo poderoso. And we pray that Thy love would cover Miss Angela as we seek her. Please protect her from the power of the evil one who has snatched her away from here, and give us wisdom and direction that we might find her before it’s too late. Am
en.” He squeezed my hand and then dropped it.

  I stepped out of the truck and into the pathway leading to the front entrance. Gino hesitated in the parking lot. “What’s up, G? What are you looking at?”

  “Is this not the place she would park?” He was staring at a blue and white sign reading “Director” and the blue sedan parked in front of it. “And is this not her car? Perhaps we should learn how long the car has been here. There are exterior cameras.” Gino pointed to the gutters.

  Small bubble cameras were mounted at consistent intervals along the roofline. Could it be that simple? No way. They couldn’t have been operational when the killer had come for Angela. That would be too easy.

  “How would any killer smart enough to administer scopolamine be dumb enough to be caught on video abducting one of the victims?” Gino had unshakable faith, but this was a little much.

  He concluded his roofline examination and joined me at the entrance. “Perhaps it is not about the desire not to be seen but rather the opposite.”

  “As in, she’s taunting us again?” Just like in the photos. We pushed through the double sets of doors and turned left into the assisted living part of the facility. Two polyester-clad nurse’s assistants tended to residents. A third woman, in loose blue pants and a V-neck, cartoon-splashed top, pushed Arnie down the hall.

  “Perhaps.” Gino stepped into the cafeteria and took over Arnie’s chair, steering into dining position.

  He locked the wheels and bent down low to talk to him. The man’s head swiveled to look at Gino. His eyes were quite clear today, opening a window into the valiant, soft-hearted warrior he’d once been. The picture on his door featured a pixie-eyed blonde in a yellow sun dress looking up at her handsome man in uniform. Cuban phrases popped up out of their murmurings every few words. Maybe Gino’ll get something out of him.

  Ceci walked in my direction from the station down the hall. When our eyes met, she looked down at the threadbare floor.

  “Good afternoon, Ceci.” I smiled and walked past her.

  She murmured a response, but I was already at the station. Two TV monitors were mounted behind the desk, in full view. One recorded inside shots, and one seemed to display nothing but outside shots. Please be recording and not just displaying. It was disheartening how many times people installed security equipment just for show. Why hadn’t I thought about this system before? I hadn’t needed to. I’d thought this place was safe.

  Safe. Is anything, anyone, any place, safe anymore?

  I stepped back out into the hall toward the cafeteria. Gino was seated next to Arnie, drinking what was probably luke-warm, watery coffee. With generic non-dairy creamer. God bless him. Everyone knew he’d rather drink weed killer.

  “And now our lovely Chief approaches. Could it be she wishes to dance with one of us?” He gave Arnie a light, conspiratorial elbowing. A slow, half-grin etched itself across Gino’s face as he put his arm around Arnie’s back, then rose to his feet. “Alas, companero mio, I fear it is me she seeks. Like the black widow spider stalking her prey.”

  “Relax, G. If I was stalking you, you’d be the last to know.” I bent down and landed a kiss on Arnie’s cheek. “I’ll be back to walk you to your room after snack time.” I waited for his slight nod before following Gino’s receding figure down the hall.

  If anyone could reveal the mysteries captured on tape by outdated security cameras, it was Gino.

  Gino stopped at the empty nurse’s station, looking around as if to assure himself that all staff and residents truly were otherwise occupied for the moment. He glanced down the hall a final time and then swung behind the laminate divider and started messing with dials and switches on a panel in front of the monitors. Within seconds, he had the footage moving forward and back with ease.

  “We shall soon learn how lucky we are or are not today.” He squatted in front of the panel.

  “Looks like I’ve got a little time to kill.” I wandered toward my mother’s room. She rarely went to afternoon snack time, opting instead for her tray to be delivered. It would be better for her to get out more, but it would also be better for me to visit more often and take her out more. I sighed. At least she could afford a facility with tray service. Tradeoffs.

  Her door was closed, as usual. I pulled the handle down and entered her little apartment. Her oxygen machine whooshed and hummed, but she wasn’t in the kitchenette or living area. The plastic tubing lead from the oxygen unit into her bedroom. I peaked in. She was sound asleep. I stood over her bed for several seconds, staring at her bruises and offering up fervent prayers for safe-keeping and protection.

  My cell phone buzzed with a text from Gino.

  VENGATE. AHORITA.

  Get over here. Now. I tucked a stray hair behind my mother’s ear and left her sleeping. Then, I hurried to join Gino down the hall.

  “Mira. Just take a look at this.” Gino was on fire. Something big was up. He was wearing a rarely-seen pair of glasses. He’d managed to find a way to display a time and date stamp for the video feed from the various security cameras located inside and outside the facility. He finished rewinding one of the tapes and turned to look at me.

  “Whaddya got?” Electricity flowed up and down my spine.

  He stared at me without speaking.

  “What did you find?” My heartbeat thundered in both ears, and my face burned. “G, what do you have?”

  “It is more of a who than a what, m’hija. Quite the who indeed.” He let out a deep breath and hit the play button.

  The first clip showed footage of the parking lot. Leaves blowing, trees sagging, a very windy day. Gino’s arms were folded across his chest. I mirrored him.

  “Watch this next series very carefully.” He hit a button to slow things down a notch. For several seconds, nothing showed on the screen but the occasional piece of paper flying through the parking lot and tree branches swaying in the wind.

  Then a dark blue sedan pulled into the director’s parking spot. The driver’s door opened, and one boot-clad leg snaked out the door. And then Kira Stoklavich slid out, elegantly dressed, complete with dark glasses and a navy silk scarf wrapped around her head, Joanne Woodward style.

  She walked toward the building, stopping several paces from the edge of the sidewalk, perfectly framed in the shot. She turned her face up to the camera, offered a little wave, and mouthed, “Catch me if you can.”

  I kept staring at Kira’s face on the screen after the clip ended. “What the heck?” Kira? Kira? “Is this some kind of joke? Or is this really possible, G?”

  He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. “It can mean nothing else. And the fact that she is no longer hiding her identity and has led us here may mean that she intends to kill Director Murray and disappear for good… or end herself as well.”

  I shook my head. “But that makes no sense. Why go to all that trouble to frame me if she was just going to walk away from it all? What’s her end game? To tease us, keep us on a string, only to disappear? I don’t get it. And I’m pretty sure I don’t believe it.” I rubbed my temples. The string of violent deaths, starting with Del and leading us to Angela Murray. “Do you think we interrupted her, maybe ruined her timing somehow? This can’t be the script she intended to play out all along. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Gino kept fast-forwarding video clips next to me. I clenched my hand, tapped it on the desk top, opened it and spread my fingers wide. My legs were trembling. I sucked in air, forced it back out, stretched out my neck, and shook my head. I want to run after her. Now. But where? Where would we even start to look for her? I whipped out my cell phone.

  Nick answered on the first ring.

  “Kira. It’s Kira. And if it’s not her, she’s working in concert with someone who’s as evil as she is.” Oops. What about Nick’s broken relationship history with her? Had there ever even been one? Who knows. We could sort through that later. “Put out a BOLO, and then I need you to call in one of your favors and get a court o
rder allowing us into her case files. We need someone to look through everything she’s worked on and documented since the murders, and fast. And… start with mine.”

  “Josie?” Nick wasn’t following me.

  “She’s targeting me. She’s framing me by going after people I’ve talked about during our sessions. Get into those files. Start reading. There’s got to be something to point us in some reasonable direction. Nick, I need it to be you. I know it’s an investigation, but…” God only knew what I’d said during my hours of therapy in her office. I needed some cover.

  “Of course, beautiful. I’ll read it myself and do all I can to only extract what’s essential to the investigation.” Warm tones infused his voice.

  “Um… what about the stuff that isn’t essential to the investigation, but is essential to me?” A bead of sweat broke out on my forehead. A court order would be written in such a way that she’d have to give up all of her files. Once a file was entered into police custody, all real control was lost. “Ugh. What’s one more personal humiliation out of series of thousands in the past several weeks?” I let out a deep breath.

  “It doesn’t have to be humiliating.”

  “Maybe not for you. But it will be for me.” He wasn’t getting it. Again.

  “Some files are a lot less complete than you’d expect.” His voice grew cold. Was he suggesting he was willing to bury evidence to protect me? “Nick, don’t…” I let my voice plead my case with the words I couldn’t form. What would happen if he tampered with evidence and got caught? A better woman would ask a better question. How can I be dancing with the idea of ruining this good man’s career just to protect my self-image?