Extreme Liquidation: Caitlin Diggs Series #2 Page 9

  A blinking message interrupted her thoughts, telling her she had received voicemail. Her spirits began to pick up. Maybe a few of her girlfriends had called. She scolded herself for entertaining the thought of deleting their numbers only seconds earlier. Filled with excitement, her eyes glanced right over the source of the calls. She played the messages, expecting a human greeting.

  A Tonkinese opera greeted her instead. She played nine messages, each filling her room with shrieks and cries, all undoubtedly sounding like a cat. Doubting any of her friends had suddenly morphed into felines, she sat on her bed, dumbstruck. As the screeching continued, Celeste popped out from underneath the bed where she had been hiding since Caitlin’s abduction.

  Tara had turned her cell phone off, believing an interruption during breakfast might offend her latest suitor. Now, she felt stupid for enveloping herself in a selfish shroud of privacy. Something too awful to contemplate popped into her head. Caitlin had nearly fallen earlier that morning. Maybe Caitlin the workaholic hadn’t simply decided to go to work. Could she be lying somewhere, helpless, dependent upon assistance which might never come?

  Tara dialed her sister’s cell. Panic turned into all-out terror as the cell rang in the next room. Bolting from her bedroom to the kitchen, Tara found her body moving a lot faster than her mind. She also found Celeste pawing at the front door. She opened the door to find Caitlin lying face down in the hallway, about a meter away.

  “Sis, talk to me!”

  Celeste danced around Caitlin’s body, sniffing furiously.

  Caitlin groaned. Tara willed herself to believe this was a good sign. It had to be. She cursed her self-absorption. Had she willfully let Caitlin face the risk of serious injury—or worse—over a date? Her new surroundings began to speak to her, reminding her Virginia was a fresh start, a place where she could grow and leave irresponsibility behind, not bed some new boyfriends. How many times had she propositioned Caitlin for loans over some crazy scheme? They didn’t seem like schemes at the time, but history was the final judge. None had ever come to fruition. She hadn’t repaid Caitlin one cent either. And worse, Caitlin had risked her life for her only three months earlier.

  “Sis, please. Talk to me.”

  “Where...am I?”

  “You’re safe. You’re home.” Well almost. Tara dragged Caitlin over the threshold into the kitchen. “Wait there.” Tara wished she could take the words back. She had committed the same blunder most Hollywood movies made. She always cursed the screen when some actor or actress blurted out the painfully obvious.

  Now Tara realized why frightened people overstated the obvious. Their brains are already too scrambled to think up clever conversations. The odds of her sister suddenly springing up and launching into a jig were quite remote. Tara turned her back to Caitlin to fill a glass of water. In those mere seconds, the FBI agent propelled herself from the floor to a seat.

  Tara gasped, almost dropping the glass of water. Caitlin appeared lucid. Her eyes were now open. Celeste utilized the opportunity to jump upon her lap.

  “I was attacked. It must have happened right after you left.”

  Ever the investigator, Caitlin immediately began assessing the situation as if she were meeting with Assistant Director Dudek.

  Tara again blurted out the obvious. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Numbed from shock, Tara began sipping the water she had poured for her sister.

  “Mind if I get a sip?”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” Tara held the glass to Caitlin’s lips, but the agent refused, preferring to hold it on her own. She downed its contents in seconds.

  Celeste bounded off her lap. Positioning her body directly underneath the overhead ceiling lamp, the feline jumped ten feet in the air. Her claws made brief contact with the fixture before gravity propelled her to the floor.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Yes, I did. She’s telling us something. Something I chose to ignore several times yesterday.”

  Tara bolted to the pantry to fetch a stepladder. She began climbing it without asking what her older sister suspected.

  Minutes later, Tara handed a small dime-sized device to her sister.

  Palming it , Caitlin nodded to herself.

  “Somebody bugged us.” In the minutes she took to wrap the device in a bag, Caitlin surmised why. She had confided some of her insecurities to someone besides Tara. Her mind flashed back to yesterday, recalling Celeste’s agitation. She placed the bag into a briefcase and tossed it into the pantry’s closet.

  “We’ve got to learn to pay attention to Celeste, Tara. She was conversing with us the whole time and we ignored her.”

  “Conversing?” Tara had known about the cat’s penchant for dialing phone numbers, but nobody said she could communicate.

  Tara’s quizzical expression prompted an impatient reply from Caitlin.

  “It’s a long story, but it will have to wait till another day. Whoever bugged us shouldn’t be able to hear us now. I’ve got to arrange a meeting with Agent Rivers.”

  “Hold on. You’re going to the hospital first, for a complete checkup.”

  “I will go, after I meet with Rivers.”

  Tara surrendered to her sister’s stubbornness, on one condition. “I’m coming with you.”

  “You’ll stay in the car, out of hearing range, understand?”

  Celeste plunged into Tara’s arms.

  “Okay, girl. You can come with us too. This is about family.”

  An hour later, the meeting convened in a parking lot of a nearby diner. Diggs explained the threat of surveillance was too great to converse indoors.

  “It’s too damn cold for an outdoor meeting, Caitlin. I’m putting whoever did this on the top of my most wanted list.”

  Caitlin grinned, resisting the urge to shiver. The comfort of her partner’s banter warmed her insides. Despite Rivers’s rough demeanor, she believed Deondra possessed a good heart underneath it all. And as the stars twinkled in the overhead sky, Diggs allowed herself to believe in creationism for a brief instant, shaking off the cold rationality of agnosticism. She turned her head upward and thanked whoever was responsible for reuniting her with Tara and Celeste—even Rivers.

  Deondra recounted her interview with Spears, explaining how the CEO gave credibility to Diggs’s theory that somebody had used a drug to make Greg Salinger a murderer. Caitlin listened, wondering in silence if those responsible for creating such a psychotropic drug might also have included her in their agenda.

  In the warm confines of the car, Tara sipped coffee, sharing a packet of cream with Celeste. Diggs traded glances between Rivers and the frosty rearview window of her Pontiac, fearing the close proximity to danger her sister was now in. Rivers finished her briefing, unaware of Diggs’s mental chatter. She noted her excursion to the medical waste facility had left the investigation at a precarious dead end.

  “How will we ever be able to secure these drugs, Caitlin? Sutter isn’t around for questioning. He applied for a passport five months ago. He’s left the country.”

  “And you don’t believe the new CEO is involved in any way?”

  “No.” Deondra feared saying more. Her trust in Spears was based upon feelings, not rationalism. She would never admit this to anybody, not even herself.

  Diggs didn’t press further, observing how Rivers’s eyes were cast toward the ground.

  “I guess we can wrap things up here,” Diggs said to Rivers.

  “What about a report?” Rivers asked.

  “I will apprise Dudek of my ordeal first thing tomorrow.”

  Rivers’s eyes shifted. She would not let Diggs get off that easy.

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. Tara insists upon a complete examination. We’re headed to George Washington Medical right now. I’ll be fine. I think my abductors even gave me a lead.”

  Rivers’s face contorted from wrinkles. Diggs took perverse satisfaction in leaving it that way. Her mind flash
ed upon the robe. Aside from visions, it was her one and only connection to her kidnappers. It also might provide an answer to the Salinger case.

  As Diggs entered her car and slid onto its frigid seat, the hopeful ideas she had entertained seconds ago began to fracture as if they were broken glass. She glanced through her windshield once again, focusing upon the stars. She realized family often sparks the need for religion, or at the very least, a small prayer or two. All she could do at this point was pray, and hope for the best. Answers were still miles away, and embracing rationality would be the same as embracing pain. Forecast and analysis would only cast doubt upon her ability to protect her loved ones. They say numbers don’t lie, but Diggs secretly hoped they did.

  Like the January weather, Diggs forced herself to look beyond cold logic and probability. She prayed for a warmer conclusion, dismissing the harsh prognostications of recent dreams. She had to. Bundled up in coats and blankets, Tara and Celeste watched her, a mere arm’s length away. Filled with the innocence of children, they provided two great incentives for faith on a harsh winter night.

  Aside from wrinkled skin, hospital staff pronounced Diggs to be in excellent condition. The examination did leave one nurse puzzled.

  “Did they immerse you in water or something?”

  “Oh, no. I am a habitual bather. I miss the summer.” Diggs continued even though the nurse had fallen silent. “I had once entertained notions of becoming a world-class swimmer. I built a small pool in my house to accommodate my fantasy and escape the icy throes of winter.”

  Tara chuckled at her sister’s tall tale while the nurse nodded, buying the story completely. The younger sibling relished the distraction. It also gave her the opportunity to realize she and Caitlin were more similar than she believed. Both could be counted upon to stretch the truth for the greater good—or in Tara’s case, the greater scheme.

  Blood analysis showed no traces of drugs. The kidnappers had used an herb mimicking similar properties of the sedative chloroform. Besides wrinkled skin, a slight bruise upon her lips and a change of clothing, one would never know Caitlin Diggs had been abducted at all. She bounced up the stairs to her apartment, refusing to take the elevator, leaving Tara breathless a few steps behind.

  “So, this is where moving guy distracted you isn’t?”

  Tara’s face flushed. She gripped Celeste tighter. How could Caitlin know this? A neighbor’s voice interrupted.

  “Is that you, Ms. Diggs?”

  “Yes, uh...Ms. Petersen?” Ms. Petersen, a seventy-something widow lived in a shroud of secrecy ever since her husband’s passing. Sometimes Diggs could hear the television turned up when passing by. Caitlin deduced the gray haired lady fancied mystery programs.

  Caitlin and Tara traversed the hallway, stopping to meet Ms. Petersen in front of her door, located directly adjacent to Diggs’s apartment. Ms. Petersen got right to the point.

  “I saw you get hit by that evil man.”

  Diggs’s face lit up with intrigue. “What did you see?”

  “Not much.” She grimaced, disgusted with her actions.

  “I closed the door after he struck you. I hope you’re all right.”

  “Yes, Ms. Petersen. I took care of him. There’s no need to worry.” Again Diggs felt compelled to stretch the truth. She didn’t want fear to strike the poor woman dead, when a laundry list of diseases lurked around the corner.

  “I felt a strange compulsion. You know I never wanted to become one of those people.”

  “What people?” Caitlin asked Ms. Petersen.

  “The kind who would look the other way to save their own ass. My Bernie—God rest his soul—vowed never to become one of them either. In fact, if he were still alive he would have shoved a broomstick right up your attacker’s butt.”

  Diggs gave a hearty laugh. Fighting to embrace Celeste with one arm, Tara used her free appendage to needle Caitlin in the ribs. Embarrassment engulfed her face.

  “It’s perfectly all right for your sister to laugh, dear. She needs to alleviate her job stress. I bet you get into all kinds of tussles with humanity’s lowest scum.”

  Diggs’s laughter subsided, realizing this woman spent far too many days in front of the television. In that time, she pondered why she reacted that way, but like her investigation, she had no answers.

  “You know I love those crime shows, MacGyver, Matlock, Magnum P.I. I guess anything that starts with an M.”

  Tara intervened. “I know. I bet you love Murder She Wrote.”

  “Not so much, dear. I kind of like the men, you see. Now that Diagnosis Murder’s on DVD, my heart’s aflutter. That Dick Van Dyke is one handsome devil.” Ms. Petersen stopped a moment to spy on the small creature burrowing its way from out of its protective blanket.

  “Oh, heavens. You have a Tonkinese as well—a platinum mink. Well, well, well. What a pleasant coincidence. Does she watch TV with you? My dear Christopher loves to snuggle up to me, especially when he finds I’m paying more than a fair share of attention to Mr. Van Dyke.”

  Caitlin’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Here she was recovering from an attack, and her hermit neighbor broke into her obsession with TV Land. The woman was indeed a strange bird, one she didn’t feel so bad about avoiding all these years. Deciding to take advantage of the woman’s penchant for chatter, Diggs probed for information.

  “Ms. Petersen, you never explained what you meant by the strange compulsion you felt.”

  “I don’t know how to describe it. This black wave of fatigue hit me. The next thing I know, I’m sprawled out on my bed. I woke up hours later, finding Christopher licking my chin. I swear I meant to call the cops. I did.” Her steel gray eyes darkened. “But something prevented me. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “No, ma’am. It doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

  Diggs began to reassess the woman. Maybe she wasn’t off her rocker after all. It’s how her attacker gained easy access to the apartment. He evoked his will upon them. If so, Tara couldn’t be blamed.

  She excused herself to leave, citing weariness from her ordeal. In reality, her mind spun ideas as if it were a neural tapestry of deduction. She needed to go inside to request Tara’s assistance, pronto.

  “If you’ll excuse us Ms. Petersen, we must be going.”

  “Oh, how silly of me. When you’re up to company, I want both of you to stop by for tea and biscuits. And bring your lovely pet...”

  Tara intervened. “Her name’s Celeste.”

  “Yes, and bring Celeste along as well. I know she and Christopher will become fast friends.”

  Tara and Caitlin promised they would visit. Tara managed to break away as Ms. Petersen started to ask what type of tea they preferred.

  Back in the apartment, Tara felt obligated to cheer up Caitlin with some social commentary. “Well, she’s a real hoot.” Tara glanced at Caitlin, receiving a different reaction than expected.

  Instead of joining Tara in the playful attack, Diggs changed gears abruptly.

  “I need your help with something.”

  Tara sighed. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

  “You’re going to apply for a job tomorrow at Genesis Biopharmaceuticals. You’ll not only be helping me pay the rent, but you’ll also be aiding my investigation.”

  Tara’s pallid face turned a whiter shade.

  Caitlin didn’t know if the notion of investigation or work caused such a reaction. In any event, Tara’s sudden loss of body heat prompted Celeste to leap from her arms.

  Chapter 13

  Her tossing and turning had sent Celeste pattering to the confines of her purple cat bed at the stroke of midnight. Despite a restless night, Caitlin Diggs awoke the next morning to a bright, crisp winter day, with her mind as clear as the sky. It all felt quite odd to her. People didn’t feel rejuvenated after a few hours of sleep, especially after being abducted. Illogical as it seemed, maybe the time spent in the isolation tank had indeed been holistic.

  Opting to enjoy her mental clarity
for a few more minutes, she began to prepare breakfast—a rare feat for the veteran agent. She felt so invigorated she opted to skip her usual caffeine fix, scrambling some eggs for Tara. Eyeing the yellow concoction congealing on her stove, she wondered what kind of changes were in store for her as well. Somebody had taken great interest in her psychic development, honing in on her private conversations with Tara.

  On the other hand, whoever was behind the abduction may have also wanted to learn what she knew about the Salinger case. In all likelihood the bug was planted in Diggs’s apartment prior to Salinger’s death, perhaps on the day Tara moved in two weeks ago. This conclusion further solidified Diggs’s theory, that Alyssa Morgan’s involvement with Greg Salinger was no random event. And whoever was involved in their deaths also knew she would be assigned to the case.

  Her mind flashed upon FBI Director Connah Hainsworth. She recalled her vision from yesterday, the one where he sat smiling at her, confident that she and her family would be ripped apart at the seams. Would she suffer the same fate as Salinger or was her mind running rampant from paranoia?

  Fear led Caitlin to suspect the worst. Hainsworth might have ordered Dudek to wait for her return from Miami; his suspected involvement left her little choice. In an hour she would meet with Assistant Director Dudek and willfully withhold information from a man she had grown to trust and respect. Opting to tell Dudek about her visions was far too dangerous. Any report would be privy to inspection by Hainsworth. The dirty director might learn of her abilities for the first time. Or worse yet, take perverse pleasure in reading a report detailing an abduction he himself had orchestrated.

  Caitlin kept her dark theories to herself during breakfast, allowing Tara to enjoy a peaceful meal. In an hour, Tara would interview at Genesis Biopharmaceuticals for a part-time administrative assistant’s position. Caitlin experienced a tinge of guilt, realizing her sister would never thrive in such a structured environment. Her visions from yesterday confirmed this. They had warned her about imposing her lifestyle upon others. Fear that she was losing a handle on the investigation troubled her more. She would have to run the risk of pushing Tara away if it secured her safety. She kissed Tara on the cheek before departing for FBI headquarters.