Stepping out of the minuscule bathroom, she pulled the Glock G26 from her purse and secured it in the drawer next to the fold-down bed. Sitting down at her computer she quickly worked for a couple of hours, continuing to build a fake identity for one of her ongoing clients.
Finally, she was able to ascertain Luke was on as well. If anyone can help me … and find out who killed Eli … it's got to be Luke.
*
Beginning with the most basic information, Luke delved into Eli Frederick. Not trusting the FBI report, he preferred to begin from square one and peel back the layers of Eli's life, while keeping the Bureau's file next to him when he needed it for the posthumous information. He slowly created the background to the young man whose life had ended so horrifically.
The beginnings were easy to decipher. Eli Frederick was an only child of two academic parents. His school records indicated a brilliant young man but his high school social media indicated a tendency to be bullied. Taking a fortifying breath, Luke recognized much of himself in Eli's upbringing, with the exception of having someone like Chris in his life.
Eli's parents moved several times due to different jobs at various universities and Luke began to see a pattern evolve. With each move, Eli had few new friends on social media and more problems with bullying. He not only had to contend with being the smartest, but was always the new kid on the block as well.
Methodical, thorough … Luke poured over the information he was gleaning. His stomach growled and, glancing at the clock, he realized he had worked straight through supper. Finding a few pieces of bread and a half full jar of peanut butter, he made a sandwich and grabbed a water bottle. Stepping out onto his back patio, he watched the sun slide over the trees. Leaning back at the waist, he cracked his neck a few times before bending over.
Grabbing a cup full of seed, he walked out into his yard and filled the birdfeeders before moving back to the patio. Stretching his stiff muscles, he toyed with the idea of going for a run, but the lure of the investigation called.
Finishing his meager supper, he walked back to his desk and continued for several more hours. Finally the yawns took over and he shut everything down. Securing his home and turning out the lights, he walked by his kitchen, knowing that in the recent past he would have cranked up his coffee maker and worked long into the night. No more, he lamented, acknowledging that his ulcer was so much better without his high-octane caffeine.
Climbing into bed, he checked his phone before placing it on the nightstand by his bed. He wondered if the woman from the diner would actually call or text sometime. Chuckling, he remembered how many times Bart or Cam would wink at a woman at Chucks and go home with them for the night. Well, at least before Faith and Miriam entered their lives.
Rolling over, he punched his pillow. I've never been very interested in getting someone for a night … but finding someone for a relationship was proving to be much harder.
*
The patient smiled up at the surgeon, Dr. Cheung, whose face was hidden behind the scrub mask. Anesthesia created a blurry, happy world and the patient was more than willing to rest comfortably.
"The pain you've been having will be alleviated," Dr. Cheung promised, nodding to the head surgical nurse. "So close your eyes, count backward from one hundred, and it will all be over soon."
Truer words were never spoken, as the patient slipped into unconsciousness and Dr. Cheung began the operation of removing the kidneys. Both of them. And then the harvesting of other organs to be delivered across the nation to needy patients with enough money to fetch them. Keeping the patient alive long enough to complete the harvesting, Dr. Cheung worked swiftly before nodding to the assistant to turn off the machines.
Turning from the bloody operating table, he walked through the surgery doors, snapping off his gloves. Standing at the sink, he scrubbed his hands methodically. A shadow approached from his left but he did not startle, confident in his security measures.
The woman's voice bit out, "I told you to take it easy. To slow down. There are those that may start looking a little closer at your business here."
Drying his hands on the towel provided to him, he tossed it into the laundry bin before turning to face the angry woman. His eyes moved over her appreciatively. Sleek black hair bobbed to her shoulders. Her oval eyes expertly made up. Her boring clothes. The same boring, institutional clothes.
She caught his eyes roaming down her body before coming back to rest on her eyes. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared. "I'm telling you, once and for all, to chill the fuck out here. Until we know what your fuck up with the computer nerd is costing us, you need to keep up with your legitimate medical business!"