Locked in Temptation Page 28

  No one looked at her like she’d lost her mind. They were well aware of her psychic abilities. “Video from the security cam?” One of the agents asked to clarify. “We just finished watching it.”

  Randi nodded. “I know, but that’s the video I assume he meant. Evidently we missed something. Is it possible for me to watch the security cam again?”

  Agent Felton nodded. “Yes, we’ll watch it as many times as we need to.”

  * * *

  “I WANT TO go to Charlottesville to check on things there.”

  Norm Austen glanced over at Jerome Post. He knew Jerome was a man he could count on to make sure things ran smoothly. When Norm had been handpicked to replace Erickson, he knew he needed people around him he could trust implicitly. He and Jerome went way back, and he knew if Jerome wanted to go check on their East Coast operation, there had to be a reason.

  “Why? Is there something I should be concerned about?”

  “Not sure, which is why I want to go check on things. Hopkins claims he has everything under control but it appears that he’s making mistakes. Too many. Pretty soon they will draw attention, if they haven’t already. I have a gut feeling things aren’t right.”

  Norm didn’t say anything. He’d been in control only a year. Unbeknownst to Murphy Erickson, Norm had officially taken over the moment Erickson had been arrested on those federal charges. There was no way the federal government would have released Erickson from prison, no matter who he’d tried to intimidate and blackmail. And hiring an assassin to kill everyone who’d been in the courtroom that day had been the man’s last-ditch effort at freedom. That was when it was decided by the Brotherhood that Erickson would never leave prison alive.

  Now Norm had the power, and he intended to keep it. With Jerome’s help he knew that he would. “Alright, go to Virginia and take Conyers with you. If you find a problem, fix it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  JOY LEFT HER office and caught the elevator to the basement for her meeting with Taren and Sanchez in the tech department, where Taren’s team worked their magic. A serious brain when it came to technology, Taren was a MIT graduate whose skills had helped solve numerous crimes for the department. More than once the FBI had tried persuading Taren to come work for them, but so far she’d turned them down.

  Walking into Taren’s work space was like being in a NASA command center, with huge screens monitoring various areas of Charlottesville and several projects in progress. She saw Sanchez had arrived already.

  After greeting everyone, she knew Taren was ready to get down to business. “First off,” Taren said, leaning back in her chair, “I ran that background check on Oliver Effington and his wife. So far I’ve found nothing. They have been married ten years and before that, both were divorcés. No criminal records for either. Not even speeding tickets. Beautiful Creations seems to be one of the top places if you’re in the market for a surrogate. It costs more than the other places, but you pay for the results you get. Their satisfaction rate is ninety-eight percent. They vet the women they use as surrogates thoroughly and have a team of lawyers who are good at what they do.”

  “And Oliver Effington interviews each potential surrogate before bringing them on board like he claims?”

  “Yes, from what I can tell. It’s all part of his vetting process. Appears that he’s more hands-on than any of the others. I can’t get a listing of the women without a warrant, though.”

  Joy understood. “There has to be a reason Effington was certain of Mandy Clay’s hair color.”

  “There is one thing I did notice,” Taren said.

  “And what’s that?” Sanchez asked.

  “Effington does more traveling than any of the other CEOs of similar surrogate agencies. Most are for pleasure trips. In checking Beautiful Creations’ tax records, I see they are doing extremely well financially, but I’m not sure if that’s how he pays for the trips.”

  Joy nodded. “I’d like to see a list of all his travels over the past twenty-four months and who went with him.”

  “Okay.”

  “What about those prescriptions?” Saying the word prescriptions made Joy think of the other homicide she was working. Dr. Langley’s funeral was today, and she needed to talk to the woman’s brother.

  “There are a number of doctors who regularly work with the local surrogate agencies. Here is the list.” She handed a copy to both Joy and Sanchez.

  “And just so you know, the prescription could have been written by a doctor anywhere and not just in this area.”

  Sanchez shook his head. “That doesn’t make our job easier if we wanted to track one of them down, does it?”

  “No.”

  Joy scanned the list, and immediately one physician’s name stuck out. Dr. Kelly Langley. “This is interesting,” she said aloud.

  “What is?” Sanchez asked.

  “Dr. Kelly Langley’s name is on this list. She was one of the victims in the double homicide Friday night.”

  “That’s right,” Sanchez said. “She was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Yes, but now we have reason to believe she might have been the intended target.” She brought Sanchez and Taren up on what she knew so far. “I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection before. Dr. Langley was a fertility specialist.”

  “Think it’s a coincidence?” Sanchez asked, rubbing his chin.

  Joy drew in a deep breath. “In our line of business there are no coincidences.”

  “But in this case, it might just be,” Taren pointed out. “There are a lot of doctors who work with these agencies. It would have been just part of her job, referring her patients to surrogate agencies.”

  Joy nodded. “Is there any way we can get more detailed information, like how many of Dr. Langley’s patients got referred to Beautiful Creations versus the other agencies?”

  “Due to privacy laws, not without a judge order,” Taren said.

  “Good luck on getting that,” Sanchez chimed in to say. “I can’t see a judge giving us that kind of order without just cause.”

  Joy knew he was right about that. Still, there was something about Dr. Langley being connected to Beautiful Creations that didn’t sit well with her. She couldn’t wait to review the woman’s phone records.

  * * *

  “WOULD YOU LIKE a cup of coffee, Dr. Fuller?”

  Randi shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” Already they had watched the video footage five times, and she hadn’t seen anything. No one had come into Erickson’s cell, not a single person.

  She was certain Erickson wanted her to see this particular video, but what had he expected her to find? Not having a clue, she was about to watch it for the sixth time. “I want to see it again, Agent Felton.”

  She was grateful the man didn’t say anything but gave the order for it to be replayed. They had sat through the first hour of viewing when she heard a voice say to her, “There. Look closely.”

  Automatically she said out loud, “Slow the video.”

  The technician did as she asked and everyone stared at what was happening in the video. Erickson was sitting at a small table and was about to stand when he put his hand to the back of his neck in a move as if he was working out a kink.

  “Go back a few frames, magnify and go in slow motion,” she said.

  She still didn’t see anything other than Erickson making the same gestures and movements. “Magnify frame and slow pace even more.”

  Randi wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she knew Erickson would not have given her the word that something was there if it wasn’t. A part of her was certain if she continued to watch she would see it. She just had to pay close attention to every single thing. Her gaze took in the whole cell, scrutinizing the walls, the floors and every piece of furniture, but she still did
n’t see anything.

  “Go back another two frames and magnify even more,” she said in an anxious tone.

  “Can I ask what you’re looking for?” Agent Felton said, analyzing the huge screen just as closely as she was.

  Not taking her eyes off the video, she said, “I’m not sure yet.”

  Then suddenly she felt it, the physical signs she always experienced when her psychic abilities were kicking in and she was witnessing something crucial. Cold chills passed through her body and there was the fiery feel of blood rushing through her veins. “Magnify the frame five times, please.”

  The technician once again did as she asked, and she saw it. It surprised her when she did to the point that she drew in a sharp breath that echoed in the room. “What is it, Dr. Fuller?”

  Instead of answering the agent, she said to the technician, “Hold the frame right there.”

  He did, placing it in a pause mode. She then glanced over at the others. “Take a look and tell me what you see.”

  The agents did as she requested and then turned back to her, appearing confused.

  “Look again,” she instructed softly.

  They did, and a few moments later they reached the same conclusion. They hadn’t seen anything. Randi nodded, then told the technician to go back at least three frames. Erickson was shown pacing around in his cell a few times before sitting down at the table.

  “Notice that piece of lint in the air,” she told the others.

  “What piece of lint?” one of the agents asked as he moved closer to the screen.

  Getting up out of her chair and using a pointer, Randi showed them what had caught her attention. It appeared as a piece of lint floating in the air and would have been barely visible to the naked eye if she hadn’t asked the technician to magnify the frame as many times as she had.

  “Okay, we see it now,” one of the agents said. “It’s nothing more than a piece of lint. I see small particles like them floating around in the air all the time. If I’m not mistaken, I believe the prison’s laundry is two floors up.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’s a regular piece of lint. Watch where it goes the moment it floats into the cell.”

  They watched and saw that like a magnet, the piece of lint moved toward Erickson and seemed to attach itself to the side of his neck. That’s when Erickson rubbed his neck with his hand before standing. They had watched him do that over and over with each viewing of the video but had assumed he’d made the gesture because he’d gotten tired. But it was clear he had rubbed the side of his neck after that piece of lint had attached itself to him.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” one of the agents said. “That piece of lint contained poison?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Randi said. “In one of the classes I teach at Quantico, we were presented data about Vertay VCT, which was developed by someone who worked for the Bureau. Unfortunately it got into the wrong hands. It doesn’t introduce poison into your bloodstream but works on your nervous system. Erickson felt a twinge in his neck for a mere second, which is probably why his hand went there and he rubbed the area. He was fine until he lay down. Once he went to sleep, the rest of his body shut down, and within two hours, he was dead.”

  “But how did that piece of lint land directly on Erickson?”

  “It’s programmed to a person’s DNA,” she explained. “It will bypass everyone until it connects to the person’s DNA it was sent to attach itself to.”

  Felton shook his head, amazed. “Not that I don’t believe you, Dr. Fuller, but we’re going to need scientific proof that’s what happened.”

  “Then I suggest you scan the clothing that was taken off Erickson. Hopefully the lint piece is still there.”

  “But that will be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” one agent said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration.

  “It won’t be hard with the use of a high-powered scanner. I believe the Bureau has such equipment,” Randi said.

  Felton frowned as if he was thinking hard. “Using that weaponized technology is damn serious. I don’t want to imagine what could happen if someone gets the DNA of a high-ranking official. Like the president.”

  Randi nodded and said, “Then you guys need to do whatever you can to stop it from happening.”

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING, Joy got a visit from Detective Acklin.

  “What you got?” she asked him when he sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

  “Went over Dr. Langley’s phone records. Not a lot of texts but a number of calls on Friday. The last one Dr. Langley received was at noon that day.”

  Joy nodded. “Do we know who the call was from?”

  “The phone number is registered to Anderson Hopkins,” Acklin said. “In checking, I saw there were a number of calls made either to his number or from his number over the past two years.

  “And what do we know about Hopkins? Is he a fellow doctor? Boyfriend? Church member?”

  Acklin chuckled. “Not sure about the last or the first, but I believe he might have been a boyfriend. The calls were made frequently enough that we can assume it. As far as his occupation, he’s a genetic counselor at Parkmoore Research.”

  “Genetic counselor? Interesting. Give me a full report on Dr. Langley’s phone activities as well as a report on Mr. Hopkins. We’ll visit Dr. Langley’s brother first thing in the morning to see if he can shed light on anything.”

  “And what about Anderson Hopkins?” Acklin asked.

  “He’ll get a visit from us, as well.”

  * * *

  JOY HAD JUST walked out her bathroom after taking a shower when the buzzing of her phone let her know a text message had come through. Dropping the towel, she slid into a short baby doll nightgown before picking up the phone. Thinking about you.

  She couldn’t help the sensations that raced through her in knowing that although they were miles apart, she was in Stonewall’s thoughts. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, she texted back. U in mine 2.

  Too late to call?

  She quickly responded, No.

  No sooner had her finger finished hitting Send than her phone rang. She hurriedly clicked on. “Hi.”

  “How are you, Joy?”

  She just loved it when he said her name in that deep, husky voice. “I’m fine? How are you?”

  “Doing okay.”

  Before she could stop herself, she asked, “And how is your socialite?” Earlier today when she’d had a few free moments, she had looked up the woman. Mondae Reddick was beautiful, polished and elegant. Her family boasted strong ties to W.E.B. Du Bois.

  “Mondae is okay.”

  Umm, so they were on a first-name basis? Was there a reason they wouldn’t be? And why did it bother her that they were? “Define okay.”

  “I think she’s a nice person. Easy to get along with.”

  Joy knew she should let it go. After all, she had no designs on Stonewall and he had no designs on her. And the one thing she couldn’t lose sight of was the fact that he had texted her tonight because he’d been thinking of her. And he had called her. He was talking to her when he could very well be doing other things. She forced to the back of her mind what some of those other things could very well be and with whom.

  “So how was your day today?” he asked.

  Was he intentionally changing the subject? She drew in a deep breath, refusing to go there. She’d never been jealous over a man before him, but this wasn’t the first time she’d allowed the green-eyed monster to rear its ugly head. “Today was busy as usual.” She found herself telling him about some of the recent developments.

  “I knew you would figure things out.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Again.” More than once he’d not only expressed his faith in
her abilities but also given his encouragement and support.

  “Don’t mention it.” He paused a minute and then said, “I thought of you a lot today.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She’d thought of him a lot today, as well, even those times when she’d been busy. She’d discovered that being busy did not eliminate him from her thoughts. And him being in them hadn’t sidetracked her or distracted her from the cases she was working. They had been pleasant thoughts. She’d purposely saved the more heated ones for later, after she’d gotten home from work.

  “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

  His words made her smile. “I was just thinking I thought of you a lot today, as well.”

  “Really?”

  She chuckled. “Yes, really.”

  “And what did you think about?”

  Suddenly feeling shy, she said, “You first.”

  “Okay. I thought about how beautiful you look in the mornings.”

  She frowned. Beautiful? In the mornings? No makeup and hair not tied down? “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. You’re beautiful when you sleep but even more beautiful when you wake up. Do you know I consider you my Joy in the morning?”

  A gush of pleasure rocked her with his words. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “Now you do.”

  His Joy in the morning. Wow. “That’s real sweet, Stonewall.”

  “You’re a sweet person. And I also thought a lot about making love to you. Being inside you. Hearing you scream my name. Damn, I love it when you do that. Scream my name.”

  Heat curled inside her, and she was convinced every single hormone within her was sizzling. If this was considered phone sex, then she was enjoying it. Probably a little too much.

  “Now, what were you thinking when you thought of me?” he asked her.

  “Do you really want to know?” She wondered if she could be daring enough to tell him.

  “Yes, I really want to know.”

  She closed her eyes. “I was thinking a lot about your tongue.”