Jethro cut the engine. “Take a minute here, mate. Lassiter is a killer and he enjoys getting close and personal, right? So, there can’t be any connection between him and the paramedic’s death. It doesn’t make sense. If he wanted her dead because she knew something that you didn’t pull out of her before, he wouldn’t cause an accident, would he?”
Angus slipped his phone in his pocket. “He’d much rather kidnap and torture her, I know.” Yet it might have been even more important to keep her quiet. Six months ago Lassiter hadn’t wanted to make his presence known. “He’d have the patience to just arrange an accident if he had a bigger plan in mind.” One that started with the killing of victims who looked like the members of Angus’s team. “We need to talk to the doctor.”
“The long-legged one.” Jethro stepped out of his car and scouted the area. “Don’t see any guns pointed at us. It’s probably safe for now.” Sarcasm uttered in a British accent still sounded classy.
Angus stood and shut his door. “We have to find the person who keeps trying to kill me.”
Jethro looked at him over the car. “You make it sound like a nuisance case. Somebody wants you dead, mate.”
“Itisa nuisance,” Angus muttered, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and striding across the long expanse of parking area toward the emergency door entrance. “I can’t be chasing Lassiter and have somebody keep trying to shoot me or blow up my homes.” They had to figure out who the team had pissed off the most, so he could concentrate on the more important case, damn it. He entered the doorway and walked to the receptionist, a sixtysomething woman with long, gray hair styled in one of those fancy braids. “Hello,” he said, wishing for his badge.
“Hi.” She looked up behind thick glasses and smiled. “How can I help you?”
He put on his most charming smile. “We’re looking for Dr. Emily Shelman. Do you know how we could find her in this big hospital?”
The woman reached for her telephone. “Can I tell her who’s looking for her?”
“Of course.” Angus kept his casual smile in place. “Please tell her that Angus Force, from the FBI, and Jethro Hanson, from British Intelligence, just have a couple of quick questions for her about a patient. Nothing scary.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, my.” She twittered and looked toward the mostly vacant waiting room. “I feel like I’m in a James Bond movie.”
“Wouldn’t that be fun?” Jethro asked, the accent in full force.
She blushed a beet red. “Oh, that’s perfect.” She dialed and spoke for several seconds to somebody named Nancy. Then she frowned and hung up the phone. “Well, this is odd.”
Oh, shit. Angus took a step toward her. “What’s odd?”
“Dr. Shelman has been off work since Friday morning and she didn’t show up for her shift this morning. Nancy is quite worried. They’ve called the doctor’s apartment several times but haven’t heard anything.” Before the woman finished speaking, Angus was already halfway out the door.
He sped into a full-out run for the car with Jethro on his heels. “We have to get to her place. Now.” Angus pushed his bulk inside the car and flipped through the file folder for an address. He knew how to get there but couldn’t remember the apartment number. Then he barked out the address while Jethro sped out of the lot.
Jethro wove in and out of traffic, pushing the pedal and breaking the law. Finally they screeched to a stop in front of a modest brick apartment building.
Angus was out of the car before the engine had silenced, running up two flights of stairs to door number six. The memory of the tall blonde with the intelligent eyes flashed across his mind, spurring him on. He knocked on the door while trying to peer through a break in the curtains on the front window. The room beyond was dark.
He tried the knob.
Locked.
“Hold on, Jethro.” Angus turned around and back-kicked the door. It flew open with a crash and collided with the wall on the other side. Angus drew his weapon from beneath his jacket and went in low, while Jethro went high.
Silence. The cold and dusty kind.
He flipped on a light with his elbow and motioned Jethro to the left, toward a living room and an open doorway. Jethro nodded, his movements silent and his gun out.
Angus continued along the wall toward the open kitchen, where he turned right down another hallway to search a master bedroom and bathroom. He returned to the living room. “Clear.”
Jethro emerged from the other doorway. “Office and guest bathroom are clear.”
Angus looked over the kitchen counter to see a clean floor. There were two dishes in the sink: a plate and a coffee mug.
Jethro studied the room. “Nothing is out of place and I don’t see any sign of a struggle.”
Angus forced his breathing to remain calm so he could think. “The receptionist said that the doctor had taken the weekend off. Maybe she stayed away longer.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Jethro or himself. “We need to search the place. Look for any sort of travel plans and a contact list, if she has one.” These days, everybody kept lists in their phones. He reached for his and texted Brigid to start a search for the doctor.
“I don’t have gloves,” Jethro said, looking at him. “Do you?”
“No,” Angus said, eyeing the coat closet near the door. “Maybe she has some mittens we can borrow.”
