“Quite right,” Ice said, her voice thoughtful as she considered it. “I think that’s a valid point. Might be a little hard to prove though.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “It’s also come to my attention everybody on my team has apparently been on a hit list.”
“Yes,” she said, her tone dry. “So far, you’ve been outfoxing them all.”
“Thank God. Listen, Ice. Do you guys have any manpower to spare?”
“Always for you,” she said. “What do you need from us?”
“A full investigation into that doctor. His background and everything you can dredge up that we can use against him. The hospital, the family of the patient who basically killed Leia’s career,” he said, “and—”
“Any other suspicious deaths,” she said. “It wasn’t the first time he’s done this. My father’s contact implied the same thing. Apparently this guy has quite a mercurial track record. Sometimes he’s brilliant, but sometimes, with no rhyme or reason, his patients just up and died from accidents in the operating room.”
“Maybe like a ruptured artery that somehow didn’t rupture on its own?” Bullard asked.
“Exactly,” she said. “Now that I’ve brought it up to my father, he’s quite alarmed that this loose cannon is out there.”
“I’m actually more concerned that he could be a paid assassin,” he said. “When you think about it, it wouldn’t take much for someone in that position to kill off whatever patient needed to go.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she said. “And we’ve certainly seen our share of killers doing things for plenty of reasons.”
“In this case, I’m wondering if he does it for the thrill, getting away with it under the eye of all these respected doctors and assistants,” he said. “Like that nurse who’s just raised a hullabaloo. I’d say her life is in danger.”
“I’ll see if we can track her down,” Ice said, “and talk to her ourselves.”
“And you better do it quick before somebody decides she’s dead weight and needs to go,” he said, before ending the call. He looked at Dave. “A killer doctor? What do you think?”
“Unfortunately there’s a whole niche market of various assassins these days,” he said. “But not normally for pay because they’re a bunch of sick bastards, yet why not? If it’s something he enjoys and is doing anyway, why not get paid for it at the same time? I’m sure some very grateful and wealthy heirs out there want access to their inheritance but need dear old dad to die first.”
“Yeah, I think you’re probably right,” he said. “With help from Ice and Levi, we’ve got people on that angle,” he said, “so what we have to do is focus on finding Leia.”
Just then Fallon turned and called back, “We’re coming up on the location.”
Immediately Bullard made his way forward and sat down in the co-pilot seat. He looked around at the boats and shook his head. “She could be anywhere.”
“I know,” Ryland said. “We need to find somebody who’s been watching for new arrivals.”
“But, in a fishing village like this,” he said, “they won’t have any registration or check-ins, so we’ll have to stop and talk to the locals.”
“Not a problem,” Fallon said. He motioned up at one of the small piers, where a group of people were gathered, and said, “Drop me off there, Ryland. I’ll give you a call when to pick me up again.” At that, he prepared to hop out, but Bullard didn’t want him to go alone, so Garret ended up getting off with him.
Dropping off the two men, Ryland pulled the boat around, as Bullard said, “I think we should check the boats on the edges. I can’t see him pulling right into the middle of things.”
“That makes sense,” Ryland replied, as they all gazed around, wondering at what point in time they might actually find a fishing boat that held a woman who was likely either unconscious or being held captive belowdeck.
“Would she scream out?” Dave asked.
“Only once,” Bullard said. “This guy would take her out in a second if she makes a noise to bring trouble down on him.”
“Good point,” Dave replied. “Any idea if she has any self-defense skills?”
“I don’t know,” Bullard said, “but I doubt it.” Just then he pointed out a large boat set a little farther back from the others. They drifted toward it, but they saw no sign of anybody on it. “Take some photos,” he said, “and see if we can find anybody to recognize who owns it. We need that old guy from the marina,” he said.
“I’ve got his number,” Dave said. “That old fisherman’s grandson had a phone.”
Bullard looked at him in surprise. “I guess in this corner of the world, most people still don’t have phones, do they?”
“Nope, just the younger generation,” Dave muttered. He took a picture of the boat and sent it to the grandson, along with a message. “Now we have to wait though,” he said. They drifted back toward the shore again, seeing if anybody else was of interest. They took photos of a couple other boats, but nothing appeared to be half as interesting as that first old boat. By the time they made it back to where they had dropped off Fallon and Garret, the grandson got back to them.
It wasn’t the same boat.
“Of course not,” Bullard muttered. “So, who the hell would know where the boat is?” As they drifted closer, he pointed out another handful similar to the one they’d taken a photo of. “What about these?”
“I don’t know,” Dave said. “It’s easy enough to send photos though,” which he did. By the time they’d sent half a dozen photos, they got a call from Garret.
“A boat over here on this side,” he said, “arrived about twenty minutes ago. One man got off but no woman.”
“Any chance she’s in there still?”
“I’ll make our way over there and check it out,” he said.
“It’ll be a trap if she’s still there,” Bullard warned Garret.
“I know,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for it.”
They too moved quietly in the direction of the boat, their engine at a slow idle as they barely moved forward. Bullard saw Garret walking toward the boat in question, getting in position. Maybe forty or fifty boats were here, and men were all over the boats, the docks, and the shore. Some were just sitting around, smoking; others were working on nets, cleaning boats, or bringing in their catch. But this one boat just sat there. They motored ever closer, and Garret came up from the water on their side and slid into the boat. He did it smooth and strong.
“It was touch-and-go for quite a while with him,” Dave said. “It’s really good to see that he’s recovered so well. They all have really.”
“Yeah,” Bullard said, his voice choking up. “Even me.”
“We’ll get her back,” Dave said. “I promise.”
“I know we will,” Bullard said. “But until I actually have her safe—” He watched, his throat tight as Garret moved around on the boat checking out the surface, but staying low in case anybody from the shore was watching, which was highly likely. Then he disappeared from sight, and Bullard guessed he’d gone down below. Soon he came back out and slipped back into the water. Bullard’s heart sank. “She’s not there, is she?”