Body Of Evidence. Debra Webb
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while Dr. Frasier picked at her egg-white omelet. When she’d descended the stairs in those tight-fitting jeans and the navy university T-shirt, she’d looked like a college freshman, not the thirty-four-year-old doctor he’d been sent to protect. He’d learned a lot about her last night from Eva Bowman, fellow Colby investigator Todd Christian’s soon-to-be wife. Eva and Frasier were close friends. Frasier spent an hour in the gym most every day running on the treadmill—which was different from the way she used to run through the neighborhood she loved. Her ex-husband had followed her by car several times so she’d changed her routine.
She worked hard and lived frugally to cover the mortgage for the restored graystone she’d bought when she left Bauer. She’d allowed him to keep the equity in their condo as well as the furnishings to facilitate a speedy divorce.
Between Eva and his online research, he’d learned a great deal about Dr. William Bauer, as well. Like his ex-wife, he’d graduated medical school with lower than average student loan debt because of scholarships and hard work, but the practice he’d been invited to join had not offered much in the way of fringe benefits to cover any of those loans. Frasier, on the other hand, had landed a great offer with complete coverage of any loans still outstanding. Dr. Devon Pierce, the administrator at the Edge, had given her a hefty bonus to join him when he opened the prototype advance emergency medicine facility. That bonus had served as a down payment on her new home.
While Frasier’s career blossomed, Bauer’s had flopped. After ferreting out all he could online about the guy, Lacon had called a friend of his who had made a career writing about life in Chicago and who kept his finger on the pulse of Chicago’s streets. Since Bauer’s prison stint, he sold his services as a physician to anyone who had the money to pay the exorbitant prices, and he asked no questions. He lived in a hotel and used his cell phone like an answering service.
Based on the few questions Lacon had asked her since placing their breakfast order, Frasier was completely unaware of her ex’s dangerous and likely illegal activities. He’d kept the conversation fairly light in hopes she would eat. After the shock she’d suffered, she needed protein.
When she’d finally gotten down a few bites of her food and started on her second cup of coffee, Lacon decided to give her the bad news. “I did some research on Bauer.”
She looked at him, her face reflecting her confusion. She had the greenest eyes. Friendly green eyes, like Eva’s. And then there was that fiery red hair. He wondered if the lady had the temper to go with those wild red locks.
“You did?” She shook her head. “I’m so out of it, I didn’t realize you were already looking into my situation.”
“I started last night, right after I spoke to Eva.”
“Oh.” She looked slightly less confused now, and even a bit hopeful. “I forgot Eva called you last night.” She placed her fork on the table. “I wasn’t actually sure who she called. Only that it was someone from the Colby Agency.”
“We would have had this discussion this morning in my boss’s office except...”
She nodded. “Yeah. Except...”
“Anyway,” he went on, “I discovered a number of things you probably aren’t aware of. You might want to brace yourself.”
The flicker of hope that had flashed in her eyes faded. “Was William in trouble?”
“Considering what happened in your bedroom, I’d say most definitely.”
“What was he involved in?” She moved her hands to her lap, but not before he saw them tremble.
Now for the bad news. “He was practicing medicine as a sort of concierge doctor.”
Marissa sat, obviously stunned, for a moment. “But he was only released from jail about six months ago.” She shook her head. “He had patients? The state board suspended his license for unprofessional conduct. I don’t understand. Had the board reviewed his case recently?”
“I don’t have all the details, but I can tell you his patient list is better suited for the wanted posters on a post office wall than the files in a doctor’s office.”
She sat back. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying he was treating criminals?”
Lacon nodded. “As in, he gets a call when a drug lord or mob boss needs a bullet removed from one of his favorite henchmen.”
“Oh my God.” She closed her eyes in a futile effort to block the reality of what his words meant.
“My source was able to name a couple of top-of-the-food-chain thugs he’s done work for. They were paying him big bucks for the work and for his silence.”
She allowed this news to sink in before asking, “So whoever came into my home last night and killed William may have been hired by an actual drug lord or mob boss?”
“That would be my guess.”
All those soft curls swished as she shook her head. “Then why not kill me, too? What if I had suddenly awakened in the middle of what they were doing? Or if my neighbor heard the gunshot?”
“From what you described and what Officer Tolliver told me, this was a professional hit. Bauer stepped on someone’s toes, and they showed him who was boss. Why they chose your place to carry this out, no clue just yet. If the shooter used your gun, my guess is the police will find a pillow or something along those lines that was used to muffle the sound.”
Her face clouded with worry. “I hadn’t thought of that. Still, I’m not a heavy sleeper. I can’t believe I slept through someone coming into my home and killing my husband right next to me.”
Lacon was having trouble with that one, as well. “While I waited for you to come back downstairs, I noticed there was a half-empty bottle of wine on the counter in your kitchen. Did you have wine last night?”
“Yes. I had one glass. I told the detective as much.”
“Anything unusual about how you felt after you drank the wine or when you woke up? Groggy? Headache?”
“I remember I felt really tired last night, but that’s not unusual. I work long, hectic hours at the ER. So I went straight to bed after the wine. This morning, I did feel a little sluggish, had a mild headache, but I assumed it was about finding William dead next to me. I told this to the detective, too.”
“They’re probably drawing the same picture I am, Dr. Frasier. Most likely they’ll have the wine tested for drugs. It might be best if you had a blood test to see if there’s anything we need to know about.”
“We can stop by the Edge.”
“From there we’ll go to the safe house and get you settled. We can start going over what we know and what we don’t from there. We’ve already got people gathering more accurate and detailed information about your ex-husband’s activities since his release. It won’t take us long to figure this out.”
“Safe house?”
“The police won’t release your home for a day or two, and it’s best that we keep you out of reach of whatever trouble Bauer found himself in until we determine the source and any potential threat to you. You don’t need to worry. We’ve got you covered.”
The first hint of a smile tilted her lips. “Thank you.”
Colby Safe House, 1:30 p.m.
WHEN MARISSA HEARD the words safe house, she hadn’t expected a fortress. The house sat in the woods on the edge of Lake Michigan, a good forty-five minutes from downtown Chicago. A towering brick wall surrounded the property on all sides save the one facing the lake. Enormous iron gates had opened for their entrance onto the property and immediately closed behind them. If not for the large windows, the house would have looked more like a stone prison than a mere house. Lush flowers and shrubs bordered the stone facade, softening it a bit.
Traynor parked his car in front of the house.