Chapter 8 #2
Foster moved in beside him before turning and leaning against the wall. He rolled his right shoulder a few times as he shook out that hand before shoving it in his pocket. He didn’t talk, just stared at Chase until the man’s unspoken questions grated on Chase’s last nerve.
He grunted, shifting over to steal a peek through one of the windows, not that he could see anything important. “Whatever’s burning a hole in your ass, buddy, just spit it out before you pop some of those screws in your shoulder lose from the strain.”
Foster glanced at the closed door, then back to him. “Not sure you really want to hear what I have to say.”
“Since when has that ever stopped you before?”
“Fine. What the hell’s going on between you and Greer?”
Chase straightened. He’d expected Foster to talk about Rhett, about Chase’s obvious fixation on everyone’s safety. How he hadn’t really slept, had barely eaten, since that night. Hell, his undeniable spiral into the abyss Greer had mentioned. Not this. “Nothing.”
“Seriously? That’s your answer?”
“Yes, seriously, because it’s the truth. Nothing’s happened.”
“Which I suspect is the issue because if it had been any colder inside the chopper, my damn instruments would have frozen.” Foster pushed off the wall.
“You barely looked her in the eyes, and there’s no missing the freaking walls between you, despite the fact you’re dancing around her like a damn satellite, trying to protect every angle.
I’ve never seen you this hyper-focused about someone’s safety before.
Not even after Sean died. So, I’ll ask again. What the hell’s going on?”
“Of course, I’m focused on her safety. Someone killed Rhett. Killed that nurse. For all we know, they’re targeting Greer.”
“Or this is all about Rhett, and they killed Stacey because she overheard something damning he muttered while coming out of that coma.”
Chase clenched his jaw. “I can’t afford to take that chance.”
“Why? When you’ve made it clear she doesn’t mean anything beyond a friend to you.” Foster shook his head. “And honestly, that’s up for debate, right now.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“You. Sabotaging the best thing that’s ever happened to you, because you haven’t dealt with the past.” Foster paced the width of the hallway before facing Chase, again.
“We’ve all got demons, buddy. And we’ve all been fighting them since long before that damn flight.
It took me and Zain nearly losing Mac and Saylor to finally pull our heads out of our asses.
And Kash had to nearly drown before he grew a set. But you…”
Foster snorted. “You’ve been quietly treading water, pushing it all down while pretending you were healing.
That you’d found some form of inner peace, all the while being secretly relieved Greer wasn’t ready to commit.
That you could stay in the friend zone while you waited for some kind of abiding forgiveness.
Then, Rhett miraculously wakes up, and all the guilt you’ve been hiding finally starts to lift.
And for the first time in your life, you took the kind of risk you can’t train for. Until some bastard stole it.”
Foster loomed closer. “I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, but if you don’t shake it loose, she’s gonna run.
Not just from you, but from Raven’s Cliff.
From everything. Because if I’ve learned anything about Greer, it’s that she’s not the kind of person to come between others.
And she knows, if she stayed, there’d always be a wedge between her and us, regardless of what we said. ”
He tilted his head when Chase went to break eye contact.
“I know you don’t think you’re worthy, and I get you need time to work through this.
Just don’t take too long, brother, or the only woman you’re ever going to love will be long gone.
And you’ll have to spend the rest of your life knowing you had your happy ending, and you threw it away because you were too fucking scared to believe you deserved anything other than endless suffering. ”
Foster straightened, clenching his hand as he rolled his shoulder, visibly pushing down some of his tension. He held firm, still standing too close, when the doors opened on a whoosh, cold air tinged with a slight chemical odor spilling out along with Greer.
She held one of the doors ajar, gazing between them as if she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt or go back inside. “Everything okay out here?”
Foster stepped back and plastered on a fake smile. “Golden. You finished?”
Greer looked at Chase, lips pursed, some of the color draining from her face before she sighed. “Dr. Pike’s willing to edge into one of those gray areas I mentioned last night, if you think you’re okay to come in and hear what he has to say.”
Chase moved forward, Foster’s words still ringing in his head. Thoughts he’d unpack once he’d had some time to process them without the stain of Rhett and Stacey’s deaths tainting them. “Totally focused.”
She stopped him with her palm on his chest. “Before I do this, there’re a few ground rules. One, nothing you hear goes beyond the team.”
Chase arched a brow. “The entire team?”
“I’m not an idiot. I know how you guys operate, and I know you’ll share the intel with Kash, Zain and the others. But if I hear any rumors, I’ll arrest your asses for obstruction.”
Foster nodded. “Understood.”
“Second… I know you guys are tough sons of bitches, but…” She glanced over her shoulder for a moment. “It’s different when it’s someone you love on the table. And yeah, I know firsthand how that feels, so… Be very sure before you step inside because you can’t uncross this line.”
Chase looked over at Foster, his buddy’s answer already evident in the way he narrowed his eyes as he drew himself up. “Not sure it can be any worse than finding him…”
Chase didn’t finish, the truth already hanging between them like an omen. “Anything else?”
Greer opened the door wider, waving them in. “Yeah. Don’t make me regret this.”
Chase nodded, then followed Foster into the room.
The bright lights glinted off the expanse of metal surfaces, that chemical scent saturating the air as they headed toward the tall man standing behind a silver slab.
A white sheet glowed in the harsh light, the silhouette beneath more than a bit familiar.
Dr. Jonas Pike looked up, waving them over as he squared his shoulders, shoving the bridge of his glasses against his face. “Beckett. Remington.”
Foster stopped a couple feet back. “Thanks for bending the rules for us.”
Pike shrugged. “It’s not something I do lightly, but considering the results, I felt you should be adequately prepared, just in case.”
Chase swallowed, nearly choking on the lump in his throat. “So, these deaths are linked?”
Pike crossed his arms. “We’ll get to that, but to start…” He waved at the sheet. “May I?”
Foster flashed Chase a quick side-eye, waiting until Chase nodded before answering. “We’re ready.”
Pike grabbed the edge of the sheet, then eased it down until he’d exposed Rhett’s torso. That number glaring up at Chase like a hieroglyphic curse. Sharp. Unforgiving. He spared a quick glance at Rhett’s face, swallowing against the crest of bile at the back of his throat.
Twenty years in the service. Rescues and missions that had scarred him in ways he couldn’t put into words.
Brothers he’d lost. Nightmares that haunted even his waking moments.
And yet, seeing Rhett lying there, silent, almost vulnerable, eviscerated Chase to his core.
Reminded him of all those reasons he’d stayed distant, just like Foster had claimed.
Without making eye contact, Greer shifted closer and squeezed his hand. Just her small palm brushing across his for a second before easing free. As if she knew even that light contact was too much.
That it threatened to take him to his knees.
Yet, her gentle touch anchored him. Calmed the panicky roil of his gut in a way no one else ever had.
Pike motioned toward Rhett. “You’re already aware of Mr. Oliver’s obvious injuries — the gunshot and knife wounds — but it’s what I discovered during the autopsy that’s relevant.” He pointed to a small mark on Rhett’s arm. “Do you know what this is?”
Chase leaned in closer, staring at the tiny hole for a few seconds. “Looks like a needle stick.”
“Good eye. We’re talking extremely small gauge.”
“But the nurses always used the IV to give him any meds.”
“Which I already confirmed with Dr. Tremblay, myself. So, how did he get it?”
“Wait.” Chase inched forward. “Are you saying Rhett was injected with something that killed him?”
Pike blew out a long breath, glancing at Greer, and Chase knew everything was about to change.
“Potassium chloride, actually, which is hard to determine as natural levels rise astronomically after death. But using liquid from the eye and some other techniques, I’m confident that whoever attacked him gave him a lethal injection likely five to ten minutes before you reached him.
Just enough time to give the illusion of life before his body succumbed to the overdose. ”
Pike stood there, staring, before sighing. “What I’m saying is, there was no way your teammate could have been saved. No amount of intervention that would have brought him back. Diabolical, really.”
Foster scrubbed a hand down his face. “Christ. What about Stacey?”
Pike shifted to the table behind him. “I haven’t done the full autopsy, yet, but I did check her for puncture marks, and she’s clean except for a suspicious one between her toes.
Now, that’s a popular injection site for anyone abusing a substance who hopes to keep it hidden.
Nothing suggests that, but I won’t know if it’s the same MO or if this is something different until I get the results back.
I can tell you that she recently got a tattoo on her hip of the number fifty-five. ”
“Damn.” Foster glanced over at Greer. “Can we confirm with family or friends if she had the tattoo before last night?”
Greer nodded. “Faraday’s sending over her file. He asked around for me and everyone’s fairly certain she didn’t have any tattoos.”
Foster crossed his arms. “So, these are connected.”
Pike shrugged. “I can’t confirm that until after I have all the results, but I thought you should know, in case there’re more victims. I’m not telling you not to provide advanced life-saving measures, but you should be aware that if this is the work of one man, it’s possible none of his intended victims have a real chance at survival. ”
Greer stepped forward. “Thanks, doc. I’ll look for a copy of your report once I’m back at the station. I’d appreciate an update on whatever you discover with Ms. Bradford as soon as you’re able.”
Greer motioned toward the door, ensuring it closed behind them before raking her hand through her hair.
Foster glanced back at the autopsy room. “That was… unexpected.”
She looked them both in the eyes. “I’m really sorry about Rhett.
I should have forensics back this morning, and I’ve asked for a rush on Stacey’s.
I also got a message from the DoD. They’ll be sending me a heavily redacted file today.
” Greer toed the floor. “I know you guys are on call, but I could use some insight later, if you’re around.
I won’t ask you to break any confidences involving national security, but I might have questions only you four can answer. ”
“We’ll be as open as we can.”
“That’s all I can ask. Whoever’s doing this is sending us a message. And it’d be nice to know who he’s talking to before another body drops.” She gazed fleetingly at Chase. “Now, I just need a lift back.”
Foster waved toward the door, pinning Chase with a hard stare before following her. Chase looked at the autopsy room doors, chest tight, cold sweat beading his brow.
Potassium chloride.
He hadn’t seen that coming. Hadn’t considered all his efforts had been pointless. That he’d never had a chance to save his buddy. Knowing…
He wasn’t sure if it stung more or eased some of the guilt.
Either way, he needed to get a grip. Get his head out of his ass and into the game — figure out who this asshole wanted to impress.
Not just to salvage his relationship with Greer, if he hadn’t already destroyed it beyond saving, but because she was right.
This wasn’t just a random killing. It was personal. And he had a bad feeling it was only the beginning.