Gideon Read online

  Kelly wouldn’t find forgiveness. Not here. Not ever. But that’s not why she came. She had something else on her mind.

  “Jess, there’s another man. Someone who might be a threat to us. The problem is, I can’t go through this again. I’m hoping there’s another way.” Kelly stopped. She didn’t know what to say. Could she really sit here and tell her sister that they could be in mortal danger and that she had no idea how to protect them?

  It was a lie.

  “You understand, right? I killed one man and I can’t kill another. I promised to look after you, but…”

  Jessica slowly raised her eyes skyward as if searching for answers somewhere deep in the infinite universe, then lowered her head and stared into Kelly’s eyes. Kelly broke out in goose bumps and felt a lump in her throat. “Jess?” she whispered.

  Jessica kept her stare, boring into Kelly’s very soul.

  Kelly knew her sister’s reactions were involuntary, but nevertheless wondered if this was sign. A sign that Jessica was counting on her to follow through on her promises. To do whatever was necessary. To quit her whining and her excuses, and take care of business.

  Wasn’t that what family was for?

  60

  After reading aloud another chapter of the wizarding adventures of Harry, Ron and Hermione, Kelly left Jessica safe and warm in her room and headed back to the freeway. It was going on three o’clock, and city traffic was a bitch. It would take her an hour to make it back to the clinic, which meant the day would be more than half over. On top of that, she was on the verge of collapse. She called Vik to see if they could handle things without her for the rest of the day. He reported it was unusually light today and that everyone had already committed to stay on until closing. “Even Nathan?” Kelly asked. Vik confirmed that Nathan had happily agreed to do whatever was needed.

  Kelly was impressed. Maybe Vik could take a more active hand in running the clinic and give her some time off to deal with… whatever. Before Vik hung up, he reminded Kelly that it was the 15th of the month, and the payroll checks were sitting on her desk waiting to be signed. He thought everyone would be okay getting paid tomorrow, but Kelly wouldn’t hear of it. She knew that Ramona, for one, lived paycheck to paycheck.

  She told Vik she’d swing by on her way home.

  There was a three-car accident just south of Brisbane and traffic was backed up for miles. Kelly got off at Hillside Blvd and wound her way north. Hillside took her directly through Colma and past the myriad graveyards, including Cypress Lawn, where her father had been interred just a week earlier. She thought about stopping and putting fresh flowers on his grave, but the memories were still too raw.

  She wasn’t ready to visit.

  It was after five when Kelly entered the rear door of the clinic. Vik was tending to an elderly man with a cut on his forehead and Sonita was wrapping the ankle of a grass-stained high school soccer player with a bad sprain. He was clearly in pain, but that didn’t stop him from awkwardly trying to hit on Sonita.

  Nathan was busy treating Olivia, an eight-year-old wailing girl who’d been bitten by a Mastiff. Fortunately, the dog was a puppy and had only nipped the girl’s calf. The standard treatment in cases like this was to administer antibiotics and tetanus shots, which were a nightmare for a terrified second grader. The good news was they could forgo expensive and painful rabies shots since there was no reported outbreak of rabies in the area. That news failed to leaven the mood of Olivia’s mother, who was hysterically ranting about “finding that dog’s owner and suing his Mexican ass off!” (which everyone within earshot knew was both ludicrous and wildly offensive).

  Kelly leapt into the fray, taking the mother aside and calming her down by explaining that her ravings were creating a frenzied situation that only made her daughter more frightened. Kelly firmly and compassionately made it clear that the mother needed to wait in the reception area so the doctors could give their undivided attention to her daughter.

  As the mother was begrudgingly led away by Ramona, Kelly wheeled a stool next to the bed and soothed the terrified little girl, stroking her hair and speaking in tranquil tones. “Olivia, I’m Dr Kelly. We’re going to make you better, okay?”

  Olivia’s tears ran down her reddened cheeks. Kelly gently wiped them away with some tissues and then removed the stethoscope from around her neck.

  “Do you want to hear your heartbeat?”

  Olivia stopped crying long enough to manage a nod. Her breathing was jagged as her sobs weakened to a snivel. Kelly gently put the eartips of the stethoscope into Olivia’s tiny ears and placed the bell on her chest.

  While Olivia was distracted and calm, Nathan and Kelly exchanged glances, then he carefully slid a syringe of antibiotics into her rump. Olivia winced, but Kelly kept her pacified with the stethoscope.

  “Can you hear that sound? It goes like ‘thumpity-thump’.” Olivia meekly nodded. “That’s your heart. Isn’t that cool?”

  Kelly removed the eartips and put them into her own ears, then listened. “Wow. That’s the strongest heartbeat I’ve heard all day! You’re in very good shape. Do you play soccer?” Olivia nodded, the faintest crinkle of a smile beginning to form.

  “I’d bet you’re really good.”

  “I scored two goals last week!”

  “Two? That’s amazing. What are the names of kids on your team?”

  “Emma, she’s my best friend, Lily, Natalie, Addison, but everyone calls her Addie, Brooklyn, Isab… OW!”

  Nathan finished up the tetanus shot and covered the spot with a Peppa Pig bandage.

  “You’re very brave,” said Kelly. “Doctor Nathan just gave you two shots and you made it through without a single tear. I’m pretty sure we’ve got a candy bar that you can take home with you.”

  “My mother doesn’t let me eat candy. She says it’ll make me fat.”

  Kelly hid her disdain for Olivia’s helicopter mom behind a smile. “Okay. I’m going to tell your mother what a great patient you were and that you deserve a treat. Would that be alright?”

  Olivia nodded. “Maybe we could stop for Froyo on the way home?”

  Kelly nodded sagely. “Frozen yogurt is an excellent idea. I’ll suggest it to your mom.”

  Olivia beamed. “Thanks, Doctor Kelly. And thanks Doctor Nathan for making me better.”

  Nathan grinned. This was the best part of being a doctor.

  A short time later, Kelly was in her office, signing the last of the checks, when Nathan entered. She smiled. “Dr Curtis. I wanted to thank you for working an extra shift today.”

  Nathan motioned toward the chair. “Can I…?”

  Kelly nodded. “Nice job with Olivia.”

  “If you hadn’t defused the mom and calmed down the daughter, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve handled it fine.”

  “I’m not so sure. You may not have noticed, but I don’t deal with people very well,” he said with a half smile. “Maybe my father was right. Maybe I should be a surgeon. They wear their lack of compassion as a badge of honor.”

  “Some do. I think once you have more experience, you’ll have a better idea of where you want to specialize. Maybe pediatrics.”

  “Maybe. I wanted to talk to you about the clinic…”

  Kelly wearily shook her head. “Nathan, please don’t…”

  Nathan raised his hands in surrender. “That’s not where I’m going with this. I’ve done a lot of thinking, about my father, about this place. He wants to broker a deal to buy you out. Don’t do it.”

  Kelly raised her eyebrows, wondering where this was going. Nathan rushed on, “This clinic is special because you make it that way. The way you treat the patients, the way you embrace this neighborhood, the way you care. The Mission needs you, not some faceless corporation that would turn this into a factory.”

  Kelly was impressed. “Where’d that come from?”

  “The heart. What I really wanted to say was, if you need some mo
ney to keep this place going for a while, I have a trust fund I can borrow against.”

  Kelly smiled warmly. “That’s very kind of you, Nathan, but I can’t accept that. Somehow, we’ll manage. And for the record, don’t ever let anyone say you lack compassion.”

  Nathan paced in the parking lot, his cell phone pressed against his ear as he listened to his father rail at him for screwing up this deal. Randall pulled no punches in his assault against Nathan’s intelligence, backbone and even questioned his parentage. Nathan took the punches in stride, giving his father all the time he needed to vent his anger and frustration over the fact that he had guaranteed his client he could deliver. Not only was Randall going to look like a fool, but losing this client could potentially cost him millions down the line. As usual, Nathan fucked up. And as usual, Randall would need to do the job himself.

  When the call was finished, Nathan calmly slid the phone into his pocket with a satisfied smile. He doubted his father would ever get over this “grand betrayal of trust”, and frankly, didn’t care. He knew his father’s rep; whoever had dealings with Randall Curtis thought he was an abrasive and abusive prick. Nathan, on the other hand, had always been the faithful son, straining to find rationalizations to explain away his father’s heavy-handed dealings.

  Those days were over.

  61

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, Kelly had stood outside The Patch, debating whether or not she should go through with her so-called plan. Between then and now she’d come face-to-face with her father’s killer, been drugged, raped, and committed murder. As if that wasn’t enough, she’d also discovered there was another person out there who might be gunning for her and Jessica. The capper was the suggestion that she should consider donning the mysterious mantle of Gideon and become a crusading assassin.

  Kelly knew she’d been drinking too much since her father died, but now was not the time to stagger aboard the wagon. She poured herself two fingers of the Clynelish she’d brought home from the clinic, and nestled into her reading chair with her scotch and her father’s journal. She flipped to the end, interested in only reading the final entry.

  (David’s Journal)

  I’ve been offered an assignment that I find intriguing, primarily because it’s the first time I’ve been approached to take out a family member of someone I previously killed. The target is Angelo Moretti, the son of Arthur Moretti. As always, I don’t question who wants him off the board and why. Benedetto handles those details and I trust him. However, I’m extremely interested in the crimes (or more biblically, the sins) this person has committed to determine for myself if he or she warrants the attention of Gideon.

  Benedetto provided me with a dossier on Angelo’s violent and perverse appetites. Simply put, this piece of filth is a serial pedophile/murderer. A destroyer of young lives; in his case, the younger the better. He’d been accused of two counts of statutory rape/assault (twin sisters), but the cases were dropped when the girls’ parents changed their story. Without their testimony and cooperation, there was nothing to pursue. It seemed obvious to all that the parents had either been bought off or scared off.

  After that, Angelo conveniently took a yearlong vacation to Southeast Asia, where a man with enough money could play out just about any sexual fantasy that suited him. Evidently, Angelo did just that. During his spree in Thailand, two underage prostitutes were strangled to death. The Thai authorities, who had a reputation for leniency toward wealthy foreigners, refused to look the other way and they arrested Angelo. His father paid double the government’s usual bail/ransom and they in turn happily shipped his son back to the States.

  When he returned home, Angelo was given an insignificant job in Arthur’s organization, but only lasted a few months before he was cut out of the family business. The details were foggy, but Benedetto heard it had something to do with Angelo’s inability to control his anger.

  The last piece of information on Angelo is unsubstantiated (but one that Benedetto is trying to confirm), and if it turns out to be true, my decision to take this contract will be made much easier.

  A few months back, a fourteen-year-old girl in Oakland was raped and strangled. Her body was discovered behind Carmen Flores Rec Center. No prints were found and there were no witnesses, so the case was never solved, but word on the street was Angelo had been bragging about how he’d gotten away with murder… again.

  As I read the report, my blood was pumping. My heart was filled with rage. Was it because I have two daughters? Was it because of what happened to Mary? Or was it because this man was clearly a menace to society and shouldn’t be allowed to be walking around where he could inflict pain and misery on others?

  I’m awaiting an update from Benedetto, but my gut tells me that Angelo will be Gideon’s next mark. In anticipation of that, I’m starting the process of gathering personal information and will then begin to formulate a plan.

  So there it was. Angelo Moretti had been destined to be Gideon’s latest victim, and ironically, it was his cousin Tommy who’d saved his life without even knowing it.

  Kelly reread her father’s entry and imagined herself as a would-be executioner. Did Angelo Moretti’s unsubstantiated crimes warrant the death sentence? She remembered being outraged when she’d read about the teenager who was found in East Oakland. At the time, Kelly had felt a sense of indignation and hoped the guilty bastard would be caught and hung by his balls. Could this be her opportunity to carry out that sentence?

  Her train of thought was derailed by a knock on the door. Pete had left a message on her phone suggesting they get together for a drink or dinner, but she was in no condition to see him.

  She had a lot of issues to unpack first.

  After closing the David Harper case, Pete’s life was back to normal. Kelly’s was anything but. In fact, her life seemed to get more complex and dysfunctional with every passing hour.

  A second knock prompted her to get up and quietly cross to the door. Kelly peered out the peephole, then broke into a smile. She swung the door open for Alexa, who was holding a bottle of Marcassin Chardonnay in each hand.

  “I seem to recall that you liked this,” she said with a grin. “Would you happen to have any wine glasses?”

  “If you’re not too fussy, I think I have some plastic cups.”

  “Plastic, paper or a wooden chalice. I’m not precious about my stemware.”

  A short time later, they clinked their Riedel glasses and repeated their usual toast to friendship, health and finding true love. It was silly, but heartfelt.

  “Where’ve you been?” Alexa asked. “I left you a few messages.”

  “It’s been a crazy day,” said Kelly without a hint of understatement. “I meant to get back to you, but…”

  “It’s okay. Running the clinic by yourself, not to mention all of the other things going on in your life. Speaking of which, anything new on the finance side?”

  Kelly shook her head. “I’m looking into a few options. So far, we’re still managing to keep the doors open.”

  “You’ve got a standing offer from me if you find you need some gap financing.”

  “I know. You’re the best. So, what’ve you been up to?” Kelly asked, changing the subject. She adored Alexa, but had no desire to get into a heavy conversation about life. Not now.

  “Same old. Long hours, unrealistic clients all looking to make a fast buck with no risk.”

  “Sounds as boring as my life.”

  “There was a little excitement today. Have you ever heard of a local drug dealer named Tommy Moretti?”

  A shiver ran through Kelly’s body. “No. I get all of my drugs legally,” she said, as she downed the rest of her wine and refilled her glass. “What about him?”

  “I was at a club in Dogpatch last night and Moretti was there. I heard he got into a fight in the VIP lounge, then split with some woman.”

  Kelly feigned disinterest, but was anxious to hear the word on the street. “And?”

  “T
hey found Moretti this morning, dead. He ODed on heroin.”

  “What happened to the woman?”

  Alexa shrugged. “No idea. Pete probably has the details. All I know is, the club scene’s getting dangerous. You’re lucky you’re not out there trolling.”

  “There’s something to be said for living a predictable, monochromatic life.”

  Alexa sipped her wine and fixed Kelly with a look that only close friends could get away with. “How is your life going?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you’re dealing with your father’s death, and the clinic, and Jess. Any one of those would be a hell of a lot to take on, but the mental and physical strain of handling all of that is immense.”

  “Then you know how my life’s going.”