The Night Bird (Frost Easton #1)(61)

“No, but I called him earlier and left a message. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“What do you want with Darren?”

The woman asked the question with a personal interest in her voice. She was in her twenties and attractive, but her lips turned downward with a hardness that gave her a bad case of resting bitch face.

“I just really need to talk to him,” Frankie replied, offering a smile that wasn’t returned.

“Try the warehouse across the street. He might be over there.”

Frankie brushed past the woman, who followed her to the building door. When Frankie was outside, the woman locked it behind her. She crossed the street to the windowless warehouse, which occupied the entire block. Its walls were drab tan. Garage doors and loading docks faced the street. One door, toward the far end of the building, was open by three or four feet.

She walked the length of the warehouse and bent down to slip under the open door. Inside, her eyes adjusted to the semidarkness. Thousands of crates, many stamped with Chinese characters, filled the space almost to the ceiling. Gaps large enough for a forklift interrupted the wall of storage every twenty feet. Lightbulbs, dangling on cords from the ceiling, did little to illuminate the closed space. The interior was cold. She saw dust and spiderwebs.

As she followed the corridor, she passed a crate on the floor near one of the loading docks, and its lid had been pried off with a crowbar that leaned against the coffin-shaped box. She peered inside and saw vacuum-sealed electronics components. Looking to the ceiling, and in both directions, she figured the contents of the warehouse could be valued in the millions of dollars.

Where the corridor ended, she faced a stone wall with a single metal door leading in or out. A Lexus sedan was parked by the wall near one of the large garage entrances. As she stood in front of the metal door, it opened. Darren Newman stood in the shadows immediately in front of her. He closed the door behind him before she could look inside, and his lips creased into a smile.

“Dr. Stein,” he said. “It’s been a long time. How are you?”

“Hello, Darren.”

“Simona called and said a woman was looking for me. When she described her, I knew it was you. I was surprised.”

“Really?”

“Well, as I said, it’s been a long time. Of course, I got your message that you wanted to talk. I spotted your name on the news, too. Patients going crazy can’t be good for business.”

“Having a patient stab a girl to death wasn’t good for business, either,” she told him.

“Except that was all a mistake. Remember?”

Darren made sure the door behind him was locked. He stepped toward her, and his closeness made her back up and bump against the Lexus. Her face flushed. Despite everything she knew about him, she felt his sexual aura like warm fingertips on her skin. He looked the same, with his blond hair and hawk-like eyes. He wore a navy sport coat over blue jeans, a peach-colored shirt, and a psychedelic tie. His black boots were shined.

“So what do you want with me, Frankie?” he asked.

He reached out a hand to touch her face, and she jerked away.

“What’s behind that door?” she asked him.

“I’m an importer. Some goods are more sensitive than others.”

“Illegal?”

“Not at all. Just sensitive.”

“Why don’t you show me?” she asked.

“Because then I’d have to kill you,” Darren replied. He saw her flinch, and he added with a wink, “That’s a joke, Frankie. You never did appreciate my sense of humor.”

She wondered what was really behind the locked door. More cartons of electronics. Or guns. Or drugs.

Or a white room.

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Darren said.

“I want the truth. Someone’s trying to destroy me. I think it’s you.”

He smiled at her with no humor. “Why would I want to destroy you? You were such a big help to me.”

“I don’t know, but then again, I never understood how sick you really were. You kept it well hidden.”

“That must be ironic for you. After all, it was your job to get inside my head. So what is it you think I’m doing, Frankie?”

“You’re abducting my patients. You’re using my own treatment methods to play on their fears. If you want to go after someone, then go after me. Leave my patients alone.”

Darren struck like a snake, coiling his arms around her body and pinning her against the car. She struggled to free herself, but he held her tight, unable to get away. His sweet breath was in her face. His lips were an inch away from her own. “Oh, if you want me to go after you, then I will. Just say the word.”

“Let me go!”

He pushed his lips against her mouth, and she swung her head violently away. He whispered in her ear. “You don’t want me to let go. You want me to take you right here, don’t you? That’s what you’ve dreamed about.”

“Get your hands off me!” she said. “Jason knows I’m here. He’s expecting me to call back.”

“I think you’re lying. I don’t think you’d tell your husband you were coming to see me.”

“I’m not lying.” Frankie squirmed in his grasp, and finally, she shoved his chest hard and ripped herself away from him. “You bastard! I know what you’re doing. I’m on to you and your games. You’re not going to get away with it this time. It won’t be like Merrilyn Somers.”