Hour Game

"I wasn't. I was going to order some new scrubs and surgical masks that we need both for the morgue and here. I found a much cheaper deal on the Web than we're getting through our current supplier."

"Kyle, that's okay for my medical practice, but the morgue is a government entity. There are procurement procedures in place, very rigid ones. You can't just order something on your own and have a government check issued to pay for it."

"Jeez, Doc, I'm trying to save us some bucks here."

"I appreciate your initiative. I'm just telling you there are certain channels we have to go through."

"Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Nothing but red tape."

"You think I like dealing with it? Look, just shoot me an e-mail about it, including comparison costs, and I'll put it in the system. If it's that good of a deal, we'll do it, both here and next door."

Kyle brightened. "Okay, Doc. That's cool."

She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. "You look like you've fully recovered from being sick. Must have been a really fast bug."

"It was. How about you? Feeling better?"

"No," she said bluntly. "But I don't have a choice about showing up."

"Come on, Doc, it's not like dead people are going to know if you're a little late."

"Morgues around the country have bodies stacked up, and every minute that goes by, the victims deteriorate further and further, vital evidence is lost and the chances increase dramatically that a criminal will go free. I refuse to let that happen here."

"I hear you, Doc. You're the best."

"Uh-huh. Finish up there. We need to complete the reports on the Hinson and Battle posts, and we have a full slate of patients scheduled today."

"Right you are."

After Sylvia had left, Kyle quickly completed what he was actually doing: manipulating the pharmacy inventory records to cover up his theft. Finished, Kyle reminded himself that he'd have to find a deal on the Internet for scrubs to present to Sylvia. One thing he'd learned about the woman: she never forgot anything. If he didn't come up with it, she'd ask, and if he didn't have an answer, she'd grow suspicious. He wasn't supposed to have the pass code to get into these files, but he had scammed it from the woman who handled that part of the operation. The woman only came in three days a week, which gave him plenty of opportunity to cover his tracks each time he made a "withdrawal" from the pharmacy.

However, Kyle hadn't given Sylvia Diaz enough credit. She was already suspicious of him. And that suspicion would only deepen as time went on.

As Kyle rose to join her, he glanced at the newspaper lying on the desk next to the computer. The headline was the same one the man in the cave had ranted about: Battle murdered and the serial killer blamed. He quickly read through the accompanying story. It had happened on the same night he'd taken the woman the drugs at the Aphrodisiac. In fact, according to the newspaper account, it had occurred at the same hour Kyle had driven past the hospital on his way to the men's club. He could have passed the killer on the way, a realization that made him squirm in his seat. As his thoughts returned to that night, it suddenly struck him what he'd seen. And as Kyle had been wont to do his whole life, he immediately started to wonder how this knowledge might best serve him.

CHAPTER 34

JUNIOR DEAVER HEAVED A FLAT of asphalt shingles off his pickup truck. They landed with a thump that broke the quiet of the morning. Junior jumped off the truck and took a look at the home he was building for his family. It was all framed, the roof was on and it would soon be under shingle. It had been slow going, though. He'd done most of the work himself, calling in favors from buddies from time to time. It wasn't a large house, but it was far bigger than the double-wide trailer they were currently living in. He pulled his tool belt off the truck, put it on and headed over to fire up the gasoline generator that would power the air gun he'd use to drive the shingle nails.

It was only then that he heard the stealthy footsteps coming toward him. He spun around. He'd expected no visitors at this isolated place. No one knew he was here other than his wife. And he hadn't even heard a car pull up.

The sight of the woman drew the blood from his face.

Remmy Battle was dressed in a full-length black leather coat with the collar turned up. She had wide sunglasses on. Boots covered her feet and she was wearing gloves, though it wasn't chilly.

"Mrs. Battle? What are you doing here?"

She stopped about a foot from him. "I wanted to talk to you, Junior, just you and me."

"How'd you even know I was here?"

"I know a lot, Junior, far more than most people think. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

Junior held up his hands. "Look, I got me a lawyer. You better talk to him."

"Ihave talked to him. Now I want to talk to you."