“How do you…” He stopped. “That’s not true.”
“It’s true. I took a long look at all the people trusted to care for Jane. You were high on my list of suspects. Let’s check it. Give me your phone.”
“No. You have no right to—”
But Caleb had already grabbed Chalce’s cell from his pocket and was going through the directory.
“Why me?” Chalce asked. “Why would you think I’d do it?”
“You’re so nauseatingly wholesome. That automatically sends up a red flag to me. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing the least wholesome about me. I was going to steal your cell anyway, but you moved too fast today.”
“Steal?”
“It’s easy for me. I seem to distract people when I get near them.” He nodded. “Here it is. Manuel Dorgal.” He shoved the cell back to him. “I want you to use that phone right now.”
“Why should I?” he said defiantly. “Why should I do anything you want? This is all guesses and lies.”
“Why should you?” Caleb’s hands were suddenly on his throat. “Because I’m very angry with you. Because you might live a little longer if you give me Dorgal. Tell me what you were supposed to do after you killed Jane.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“Don’t lie.” His hands tightened on John’s throat. “That annoys me, and you don’t want me annoyed any more than I am right now. Do you feel the blood pumping in the veins of your throat? So fast … Soon it will be even faster, and the pain will start.”
It was starting now, and so was the panic. He couldn’t keep his eyes from Caleb’s. “I … didn’t mean to kill her. Dorgal made me.”
“Liar. Tell me what you’re supposed to do.”
“Leave the hospital and call Dorgal. He has orders to personally validate the death. I think he wants to take pictures or something.”
“When?”
“Right away. Tonight. Though they might do an autopsy since the death was unexpected.”
“Completely unexpected,” he said grimly. “She was on her way back.”
“I had to do it. I was afraid.”
“You should be afraid right now.”
He was terrified. He had never seen anything like the ferocity that Caleb was showing him. And the blood was pounding, choking him, causing his eyes to bulge in their sockets. What was the bastard doing to him? “Please…”
“I’m going to take my hands away from your throat. You’re going to make that call. You’re going to tell Dorgal that everything went well, and she’s ready for her close-up. You’re going to sound absolutely normal, then you’re going to hang up. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “Anything you say. And then you’ll let me go?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I might exchange one murderer for another. But you won’t have a chance if you don’t do what I tell you.”
“I’ll do it.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket. “It was Dorgal who’s to blame. It’s not my fault.” His hand was shaking as he dialed Dorgal’s number. Two rings, and Dorgal picked up. “She’s dead,” John said. “No problem. I’m leaving for the airport now. Transfer the rest of the money into my account in Grand Cayman.”
“You’ll get it after I verify that you did the job.” Dorgal paused. “You sound a little breathless.”
“I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m glad it’s over.”
“I hate working with amateurs.”
“Just give me my money.” He hung up. He looked at Caleb. “Okay?”
“Good enough.”
“Then let me go.”
Caleb shook his head.
Panic. “You said that maybe you’d do it.”
“You told Dorgal that you were glad it was over. Did you think how Jane might feel as she took those last breaths? You didn’t care whether she lived or died as long as you got your money.” His hands closed on his throat again. “But I care, Chalce. Do you feel how much I care?”
Blood pounding.
Heart pounding.
Was he dying?
Darkness.
4:22 A.M.
The morgue was cool, almost cold.
The lights over the three metal tables brilliant and glaring.
And on one table, a figure covered by a white sheet.
Dorgal moved quickly from the door toward the table.
Shoot the damn photo and get out of here. The place was beginning to stir, and he’d noticed that there was a light on in the small reception office across the hall. He wouldn’t have risked going through with the damn verification if Santos hadn’t insisted. He’d said that it would be more effective if he could show Ling a photo of the actual body.
And he would show MacGuire’s body, and Santos would realize once more what a valuable asset Dorgal was to him.
Quick.
He flipped the sheet down and aimed his phone at that beautiful, peaceful face.
One picture.
Two.
Three.
Enough.
He jammed his phone back in his pocket and started for the door.
“Dammit, he’s getting away, Caleb. Do something!”
Dorgal froze.
What the hell?
He whirled back around.
Jane MacGuire’s eyes were open, and she was glaring at him. She said softly, “Surprised?”
He reached for his gun.
And tumbled to the floor as Seth Caleb sprang from behind one of the file cabinets and tackled him. “I was getting to it, Jane.” His fist crashed into Dorgal’s jaw. “I wanted him to get a little farther away from you.”
“I didn’t want to wait. I felt … violated.”
“Bitch.” Dorgal grunted. He was struggling wildly. “Chalce sold me out?”
“Not in the beginning. He didn’t know. I switched the poison you so kindly provided him.”
“Fool. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you.” He rolled sideways and broke free. Suddenly, there was a knife in his hand, plunging at Caleb. He made contact, but Caleb slid away. And then the knife was gone, skittering across the floor toward the door.
The door was opening, and the knife was being snatched up by the man standing there.
“Get off him, Caleb,” Joe Quinn said grimly. “I want my turn with him.”
“Not now. We still have a use for him.”