Page 115 of Mistaken Identity
I watched dispassionately, only slightly alarmed by the sight.
Audric crossed his arms over his chest and watched with a dispassionate gaze.
Dr. Stoker started making a gasping noise that was somewhere between a wounded elephant and dying rhino.
“Man.” Apollo came storming through the door at my back, startling me. “I had so many things in store for him! Why’d you kill him?”
Audric turned a glare on his good friend. “Maybe if you weren’t stuck up the president’s ass, you might be able to live your life.”
Apollo grimaced. “I had no fuckin’ clue I’d be rubbing balls with the president, okay? It was an accident that I was put on that committee.”
“Whatever,” Cutter muttered. “Just tell us you like licking his balls and we won’t keep asking.”
“Fuck off,” Apollo said. “It’s interesting, okay? You would be there, too, if you could win an election.”
“Did you win an election, though?” Cutter taunted. “Or did you rig it?”
They said more, but I ignored them in favor of watching Dr. Stoker take his last breath.
I thought I’d feel a little more messed up about it, but to be truthful, I felt nothing.
I should probably get my head examined.
Most people would feel at least a little bit of sympathy.
Not me, though.
And that was okay.
At least, I thought it was.
Once the breaths stopped rattling in the doctor’s lungs, and his chest was still, I said, “Now what?”
“Now we untie him and leave. They’ll assume he did this himself,” Apollo said. “Who wants to ride with me so I can fill them in?”
“You rode in on your bike, you moron.” Audric snorted. “How, exactly, do you think that’s going to work?”
“It’s a joke.” Apollo rolled his eyes. “I’ll meet y’all back at the clubhouse.”
Everyone started to leave but us.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” Audric said. “I need to look through his shit and see if he has anything else that might implicate us in any way.”
I fell into step beside him and we started going through the doctor’s rooms.
We didn’t find anything that would implicate us. But what we did find was a room full of photos and printed maps and locations of women that he’d apparently stalked.
“Who else do you think that he’s targeting this way?” I asked as I moved closer to read the “doctor’s notes” underneath the photos. “Mary, age twenty-five. Victim of sex trafficking. Gets upset easily when you ask her about her sister. Talks in her sleep. Has nightmares that are exacerbated by alcohol.”
“Sick fuck,” Audric murmured as he read the woman’s information that he was closest to. “This looks like all of his stalking victims were his patients. He also learned what they feared the most and exploited it.”
I left the room. “I can’t be in here looking at this anymore.”
“Same,” he murmured as he followed me out, placing his hand on my back to guide me out into the backyard where all the bikes had been left. “This place is about to be a swarm of cop cars once I call this in. Let’s go.”
We wound up back at the clubhouse an hour later with dessert since mostly everyone was full, and sat around the huge table in the clubhouse to discuss what Apollo found.
“First, let’s discuss Goodwin.” He looked at me. “He’s dead, by the way. Let’s celebrate.”
