Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) - Karen Rose Page 0,119

which the light was yellow, about to turn red. Gunning it, he flew through the intersection a second after the light turned red, earning him a cacophony of blown horns.

Ignoring them, he turned at the next corner, following the road to the rear lot of a grocery store, where he parked and made sure his mask was still in place.

“Where are we going?” the nurse asked fearfully.

“Well, you’re going to hell,” he said pleasantly. Not prolonging things, he dragged her across the console and out of the car and tossed her to the pavement. She immediately tried to run, but he drew his gun, tightened the silencer, and shot her in the head.

She dropped and he shot her in the head a second time, just to be certain. Then he slid behind the wheel of her car and drove away—just in the nick of time. In his rearview mirror he saw the white panel van pulling into the grocery store lot as he turned the corner. He didn’t see anyone following him the rest of the way back to Sunnyside Oaks.

He was met by the same charge nurse, who wore a forbidding frown. Standing behind her was the big-ass security guy from that morning. He did not look pleased.

“Where did you go? Where is Nurse Gaynor?” she demanded.

“She’s permanently resigned,” DJ snapped. “She agreed that she wasn’t competent enough to care for my father. I dropped her off at a grocery store nearby. Come with me.”

The two followed him into Pastor’s bedroom. Putting a finger to his lips, DJ lifted the lamp on the nightstand, holding it so that the underside of its base was visible. He could see when the security guy saw the bug. The man’s jaw tightened, making a cheek muscle twitch.

DJ laid the lamp on its side, then pointed at the lampshade, showing them the second bug. He opened the nightstand drawer and withdrew the Bible, exposing the third bug.

It wasn’t Pastor’s Bible. Pastor only waved one when he was preaching. Wasn’t like he read it every day. Or any day, for that matter.

Nurse Innes’s lips had thinned. She motioned to DJ and the security guy, leading them into the hallway.

“Who?” she asked sharply.

“A guy who wants to kill me,” DJ told her. “He already tried once today.”

“How did he turn her?” the security guy wanted to know.

“Her son is in prison, waiting for trial.”

Innes shook her head. “We would have known.”

“It’s new, apparently. You can check it out.”

The security guy made a call, then scowled at whatever he heard. He ended the call and gave Innes a nod before turning to DJ. “Was she ambulatory when you dropped her off?”

“Not really,” DJ said.

The man sighed. “Can’t say I blame you. Which store? I’m going to need to grab her before the cops find her. Did you use a silencer, at least?” DJ gave him a look and the man sighed again. “Of course you did. What a mess.”

Innes suddenly looked exhausted. “I told you to come to me with concerns, Mr. Belmont.”

DJ blinked at her. “I thought you meant if my father needed extra pillows.”

Innes rolled her eyes. “Get her body,” she said to the security guy. “You may return to your father’s room,” she said to DJ. “I’ll send our tech guy to retrieve the bugs. We’ll destroy them.”

DJ shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll sit with my father until you assign him another nurse.” He turned away, but not before he saw Innes shaking her head. It was her mess now.

SIXTEEN

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

THURSDAY, MAY 25, 7:30 P.M.

Raeburn was staring down at the body when Tom and Croft arrived at the crime scene, located behind a grocery store. The victim lay on her back about a foot from the dumpster, two gunshot wounds in her head.

One of the head shots had taken a chunk of her skull with it.

“Which one is she?” Tom asked quietly. All they’d been told was that their mole was dead.

Raeburn was visibly disturbed. Likely not at the gruesome scene but at the reason this woman had been targeted. “Penny Gaynor.”

Tom closed his eyes, visualizing the pages of the employee database scrolling in his mind. Penny Gaynor, age fifty-three. Mother of four. She’d been a nurse at the rehab facility for nearly ten years and was one of their most trusted employees.

“The one whose son is sitting in prison awaiting trial?”

“Yes,” Raeburn said. “She was only supposed to plant a few bugs and wear a wire.”

She wasn’t supposed to die hung in the air