CoyoteWhispers Read online

  “By the time I see the rest of the pack I’ll have an answer ready. For now though I’d rather stay quiet on the subject.”

  “Okay.” They reached the back door and Gordie slid the key into the padlock and then the two deadlocks. “Let’s get in out of the cold.”

  The clinic was dark and freezing, no warmer than outside but at least they were out of the wind. Gordie flicked the light switch and the gloom vanished. She pushed the door closed behind them and led Tatum through the building, giving her a brief rundown of what each room was used for.

  “I’ll give you the full tour on your first day but for now let me grab that kit.” Gordie started back to the storeroom.

  “Mind if I just sit here for a minute? I’m suddenly tired enough for my legs to shake,” Tatum said.

  “No, that’s fine. If it’s okay with you I might just give you a quick once-over before we head back to the café.”

  “Sure.” Tatum covered a yawn with her hand. She smiled. “Sorry, really tired.”

  “Why don’t you come into the exam room and lie down for a bit?”

  “No way. I do that and I won’t get up until I’ve had at least an hour’s nap.”

  “I’ve got nowhere to be in a hurry.”

  “Thanks, but no. I want to get home and curl up in a nice, warm bed.”

  “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Gordie left Tatum to rest while she went to the supply room. She was occupied scanning the shelves for the new kit she’d recently ordered in preparation for her nurse starting work when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as though a cold wind had blown across her skin. She’d shut the back door hadn’t she? Locked it? Footsteps echoed behind her and her stomach clenched. Leaning out the door of the storeroom she glimpsed a flash of black disappearing into the reception area where she’d left Tatum.

  A shiver rattled her spine and her heart sped up. Gordie stepped into the hall as Tatum’s cry of distress reverberated off the walls. Her feet moved before the thought formed and she ran the length of the corridor.

  “No!”

  Gordie could hear Tatum’s struggles before she entered the waiting room. She skidded to a halt at the sight of a familiar-looking man in black. Every hackle rose and sweat popped out of every pore as she remained frozen in place while the two figures fought.

  “Gordie, run!” Tatum’s shout got Gordie moving again.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs and her lungs refused to take more than small gulps of air. She would not let him win this time. There wasn’t much in the way of weapons in the clinic but she could improvise. Gordie picked up the bundle of magazines on the corner table and threw them at the mass of wrestling bodies. It was enough to draw the masked attacker’s attention away from Tatum.

  With a growl he shoved Tatum aside and came at Gordie. Spinning on her heel she ran toward the room most likely to hold some kind of weapon. The morgue. Moments ago the hallway had seemed short, now it appeared to go on forever before she reached her destination. Trays of sterile surgical implements sat to one side of the large room and Gordie headed straight for them. Scooping up a handful of plastic-covered steel, she darted around the end of an exam table, putting the slab of cold metal between her and Marcus.

  She had no doubt who hid behind the ski mask. Gordie would never forget those eyes. He’d been wearing the same clothes two days ago so it was obvious who had returned. Tatum hadn’t made a sound after he’d flung her against the wall and the doctor in Gordie wanted to go check to see if the other woman was all right but she couldn’t afford to let her guard down or neither of them would be okay.

  “You can’t hide from me, non-blood bitch.” His shout echoed down the hall.

  Gordie crouched down behind the table and peered around the pedestal base to watch the doorway. If he kept going she could sneak out of the room and back to Tatum. His heavy footfalls grew closer.

  “I’ll kill you when I get my hands on you.” He was moving from room to room, searching for her.

  Fear sliced into her. He outweighed her by at least one hundred pounds, probably more, but Gordie knew the soft spots, knew where to strike to inflict the most damage if she had to.

  “You can’t hide and that bitch out front isn’t going to save your sorry ass from what I’ve got planned.”

  His words chilled her blood, the venom in them unmistakable. She also couldn’t miss the slight tinge of madness ringing in his voice. Gordie knew he’d checked most of the other rooms, knew it was only a matter of time before he reached this one and she needed a plan. Two plans. One for when he found her and one for if he passed on by.

  “You’re going to pay for all the trouble you’ve caused.”

  Trouble? What trouble? Gordie had no idea what he was talking about. She’d never had much to do with Marcus. He’d always considered her beneath him because she was human and then after Anthony had died he’d never even glanced her way. He hadn’t even come to her for medical treatment once since she’d taken over the clinic from her stepfather.

  “You think you’re so smart hooking up with that McKenna bastard.” He was in the next room, moving closer with every breath.

  She fingered the plastic packets in her hands, glanced down quickly to see exactly what she had. Three scalpels, two sets of forceps and two pairs of scissors. What would she do with the forceps? A sound in the doorway drew her gaze. Black boots and jeans up to the knee were visible. She wasn’t game to move for a better look. Gordie watched those boots intently. The second he came toward her or left she’d be ready.

  He turned and went back into the hall. Air rushed from her chest, hissed through her teeth as relief filled her. Gordie carefully removed the plastic from the instruments and counted to one hundred before standing and tiptoeing toward the door. She couldn’t hear anything and that worried her more than having him in the doorway in front of her would have. Soundlessly, she made her way across the room.

  Her skin prickled and instinct made her jump back seconds before he charged into the room. He reached for her throat, his hands wrapping around her neck and hooking in her jacket as she tried to spin away. The zipper on her coat dug into her skin and she gagged as her airway was crushed. Gordie brought her hand up, scissors extended and drove them into the nearest body part. Cloth tore and skin broke as she pushed with all her strength. Marcus howled in pain and his grip loosened, allowing her to twist free of his hold.

  “Bitch!” He’d removed his mask, his gaunt face skeletal in appearance and a mere impression of his former self.

  Marcus lunged for her, the scissors protruding from between the fourth and fifth ribs near the center of his chest. His fingers caught her sleeve and he wrenched her back against him. The steal handles of the scissors dug into her shoulder and she applied pressure to drive them deeper. A curse filled her ears and he shoved her forward, sent her tumbling to the floor. Pain exploded in her back as she went down and she rolled away just before he kicked out a second time.

  “Not so fucking tough now are you?” He lashed out with his foot again, grazing her hip with the toes.

  Gordie grabbed at his pants, tangled her fingers in the fabric and pulled. He teetered above her so she gave the jeans another yank and sent him crashing to the ground beside her. She clambered for purchase but she slid on the slippery tile beneath her hands and feet. Steal glinted next to her and she realized she’d dropped her makeshift weapons in their struggle. Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around the nearest one.

  “Fucking bitch!” Marcus crawled after her.

  With desperation she lashed out, but he dodged to the side and the blade of a scalpel glanced along his cheek, barely leaving a scratch. He kept coming, managed to pin her beneath him, his body crushing hers. She kicked and punched, bucked and thrashed in an attempt to dislodge him. Marcus tangled his fingers in her hair and used his grip to slam her head into the ground repeatedly. Stars burst before her eyes and Gordie’s arms flailed about without purpose.

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sp; He was going to kill her. There was no way she could throw him off, he was too heavy. Tears burned her eyes and throat as he once again wrapped his hands around her neck and began to squeeze. The back of her head pounded but the pain had begun to go numb. Her arms and legs wouldn’t work properly, their weight too much to move. Her vision blurred, blackness creeping in around the edges and she thought she heard someone call her name.

  Steve.

  “He’s too late.” Marcus laughed above her, his face a grotesque, distorted image. “You’re dead, bitch, and he’s next.”

  “No.” The hoarse cry hurt her throat but she couldn’t let him get Steve. With the last of her energy Gordie lifted her arm, the scalpel still in her hand, and slashed out at his face. At first she thought she’d missed. Marcus stopped squeezing and his mouth fell open. Everything happened in slow motion. For seconds neither of them breathed and then blood began to bead in a long line down the side of his neck. The beading quickly turned to a flow.

  The flow increased rapidly until blood pumped from the slice in gushing waves. She’d hit his carotid artery. Marcus let go of her throat and grabbed his neck but he couldn’t stop the surge. He fell to the side and Gordie used her hands and feet to scramble backward. She slipped and slid in the pool of blood forming on the floor, the slick warmth made her move quicker in a bid to get away. But it was all around her, over her. His hands fell from his body as he collapsed with the gurgle of his final breath in his throat.

  Gordie stared at Marcus’ lifeless body, the sea of red spreading out around him and began to tremble. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she curled into a ball and brought her hands up to cover her face. Sobs racked her chest, the heaving gasps compressing her ribs and stomach with pain. Wetness soaked into her clothes and she uncovered her eyes to see nothing but the blood she’d spilled surrounding her.

  A cry of anguish echoed in the room, the sound vibrating in her ears as her scream of agony went on and on.

  * * * * *

  Steve walked into the café with Dale. They’d spent the morning combing the clinic and then the roof cavity at Doc’s place but other than a few broken shingles they hadn’t found any more clues. He headed for the counter, searching the room for Doc as he went, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Kat was serving a customer so he slid onto a stool and waited for her to finish.

  “Do you want to check the roof at the clinic again before you head home?” Dale asked.

  “No. We’ll do that before she opens up again though. I want it checked before she goes back there.”

  Kat put a couple of mugs down and filled them with coffee. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  “No thanks, coffee’s fine. Where’s Doc?” he asked.

  “She and Tatum walked over to the clinic to get something for Tatum.”

  Steve jumped from his seat. “Alone? You let them go alone?” He headed for the door at a run, dodging tables and chairs on the way.

  “What’s wrong? She said you’d checked it this morning. That it was safe,” Kat protested behind him.

  “We did,” he yelled as he yanked the door open. “But I don’t want her going there alone.”

  Dale was right behind him when he hit the sidewalk. They ran across the empty street and skidded to a stop at the front door. Steve tried the handle and finding it locked, began thumping on the door and calling out to Doc.

  “Wait.” Dale grabbed Steve’s arm. “Listen.”

  He turned his head and held his breath. The murmured cry for help was barely audible through the thick timber panel. “That doesn’t sound like Doc.”

  Dale put his ear to the door but he didn’t need to, the next cry came through loud and clear. “What the fuck? Tatum!” Dale banged on the door.

  Steve started down the sidewalk at a flat-out run as his stomach cramped with the fear that threatened to take him to his knees. Where the hell was Gordie?

  “Where are you going?” Dale yelled behind him.

  “Around the back.” He breathed hard but kept running, Dale’s footsteps pounding behind him. “We’ll never break down the front door but there’s a window above the back one.”

  Steve would smash through the timber wall if he had to. He ran past the clothing store, the small bookshop and slid sideways in the snow as he rounded the corner of the building. The alley was unplowed and he could see footprints where Doc and Tatum had walked. As he got closer to the back of the clinic he was hit by déjà vu. The back door stood ajar and his blood ran cold.

  “Let me go in first.” Dale had caught up to him and pulled his gun from its holster.

  “Fine, but I’m right behind you.”

  They entered the building at a slower pace. Dale took the lead but Steve stayed right on his heels. No sounds came from the interior and he thought maybe they’d imagined the cry from Tatum. The sight that met them in the morgue almost crippled him. Doc lay curled on her side, covered in blood. A huge pool of the stuff lay between her and Marcus. Neither of them appeared to be breathing.

  Steve dropped to the floor next to Doc and felt for a pulse. The hard, fast beat he found in her neck produced a gust of breath from his lungs. He tried to find her injuries but the blood was everywhere, he couldn’t tell where any of it was coming from. “I can’t find where she’s bleeding.”

  Dale checked Marcus. “I’m not sure it’s her blood. He’s dead, looks like she slashed his throat.”

  “Jesus. What the fuck happened?” He tapped Doc’s cheek. “Doc? Come on, Gordie, talk to me.”

  “I’ll be back. I need to find Tatum.” Dale left the room with his gun drawn.

  “Come on, Gordie, don’t do this to me. Not again.” He turned to the doorway as people started pouring into the room. “Stay back,” he yelled.

  “Dad’s here,” Kat said as Doctor Monroe pushed past the cluster of bodies.

  “Hey, Steve.” The older man kneeled beside him. “What you got?”

  “Don’t know. She was out when we found her.”

  Doctor Monroe ignored the lifeless body not six feet away and went to work on his daughter. “Jackie, get over here and help me with our girl.”

  “I’ll do it. What do you want?” Steve asked.

  “Let’s get her checked over for broken bones first then we’ll get her up on one of those tables.”

  “Can we move her into another room?” Jackie asked as she crouched beside them.

  “Yes, love, that might be a better idea.” Doctor Monroe turned to yell over his shoulder. “Kat, go get one of the rooms ready.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “And the rest of you can get out,” the older man said with an authoritative voice Steve remembered from his youth.

  “Doctor Monroe?” Dale came in carrying an unconscious Tatum.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What went on here?” He turned to his wife, his hands never leaving Gordie. “Jackie, go with Dale and see about that one for me. I’ll bring Gordana in a minute.”

  The older man spent what felt like hours checking Doc over before speaking again.

  “Young man, I’m gonna ask you to carry Gordie for me. These old bones aren’t as strong as they used to be.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Steve waited for Doc’s father to get up before pulling her limp body into his arms. He stepped across the wet floor with care and ignored the way his boots stuck to the tiles as he walked down the hall behind Doctor Monroe. They passed the first room where Dale and Jackie were talking to a now-awake Tatum and entered the next one. Kat waited for them, closing the door behind him as he cleared the threshold.

  “Get her out of those clothes so I can clean her up,” Doctor Monroe ordered as he went to the sink in the corner and scrubbed his hands.

  Steve laid Doc on the table and helped Kat remove her soiled clothes. They threw them in the trash. Even if they were salvageable he was sure she wouldn’t want them. He was relieved to find no visible wounds other than some bruising and the angry red ringing her neck. The thought of wh
at those red marks meant boiled his blood and if Marcus wasn’t already lying dead in the other room Steve would be out committing murder right now.

  “Steve?” Doc’s voice was a raw, gravelly whisper that hurt his ears, he could only imagine how it felt to her.

  He finished tucking the blanket around her and leaned closer. “I’m here, Doc.”

  “Tatum?”

  “She’s in the next room. Your mother is looking after her.”

  “Mom’s here?”

  “Me too, sweet girl.” Doctor Monroe stepped up beside the bed.

  “Daddy?”

  “Hey, sweetie, wanna tell me what hurts?”

  “Everything.” A slight smile curled her lips. “Nothing’s broken. Took a kick in the back and hip, he bashed my head into the floor and tried to choke me.” Her hand came up and brushed against her throat.

  “I see that. You don’t look so bad, considering.” Doctor Monroe took the wet cloth Kat handed him. “We’re just gonna clean you up a bit, you can take a shower back at the house later.”

  “What happened to Marcus?” she asked.

  “He’s dead.” Doctor Monroe wiped the cloth over her face, removing the dried blood.

  The color drained from Doc’s face. “Dead?” She licked her lips. “I’m gonna be sick.”

  Steve grabbed the wastebasket and shoved it under her as she leaned over the side of the bed and emptied out her stomach. Her father held her hair back and Kat handed Steve a clean cloth when Doc had finished vomiting.

  “I want to go home.” She slumped back against the pillow.

  “Okay, I’ll get your mother to take you while I check on our other patient.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t want to go back to the house.” She turned away and curled into a ball.

  Steve took pity on the older man. “Can I talk to you outside, sir? Kat, keep an eye on Doc.”

  They stepped into the hall as Mrs. Monroe came out of the other room, Dale and Tatum behind her.

  “Hey, you okay?” Steve asked.

  “Yeah, a little embarrassed at passing out and not helping Doc, but otherwise I’m good.” Tatum leaned into Dale.