Part 19

Kermit Griffin was angry. Actually, he was more than angry. If Peter Caine were in the room, the department wouldn’t have to worry about the stalker killing him, Griffin would beat him to it. His head pounded, his arm ached from being cuffed to the bed frame, and that damned fool kid moved the phone. He would have to use some of his ill-gotten skills to get himself out of this situation. Caine would pay for this one.

The former spook had no sooner opened the cuff with his hidden pick than he heard the front door close. Grabbing his laser-sighted Desert Eagle from the nightstand, he silently thanked Peter for having enough sense not to leave him weaponless. Kermit moved low and silently as he hugged the wall near the bedroom door, waiting for the intruder to enter the room. Wait. . . wait. . . he could hear them get closer and closer. He held his breath, leveling the gun at chest height. A shadow extended into the room, a forerunner of the person in the apartment. The moment the first glimpse of solid form came into view Kermit grabbed cloth with one hand and pressed his gunmetal security blanket firmly against. . . Karen Simms.

Kermit released the petite woman immediately and turned the gun away. He closed his eyes and tried to get his racing pulse under control. The adrenaline was making his heart pound. He had almost killed the one woman he let get near him in the last few years. They weren’t lovers yet, but they would be soon if he had his way about it.

"Have you ever thought of announcing your presence?" he asked her once he was sure of his voice.

"Detective Griffin," the Captain said with composure that she didn’t feel. "How good to see you up and about. Detective Caine led me to believe that you were . . . shall we say. . . . a bit tied up."

Kermit sank down on the bed, storing his Desert Eagle away. "I got myself untied. What the Hell was that idiot thinking? I let my guard down because he’s a friend. Now, he’s all alone out there with a madman killing people all around him. It’s only a matter of time before he becomes the target."

"Calm down, Kermit, and stop blaming yourself. He made the choice," the woman near him spoke. She was Karen Simms now, not Captain Simms. "He was thinking that he doesn’t want his friends hurt because of him. Do you have any idea where he would go?"

"If I were him, and in a way I am because Paul trained me, too, I would go to the cabin on the lake. It has all of the modern amenities, but it is isolated. Annie and the girls are out of town for a two weeks going to that wedding in Arizona. No one else would be using the cabin. He won’t have to make contact with anyone for weeks. The pantry is stocked. There is firewood cut if the power goes out. He could hole up there for a month or better without having to see anyone," Kermit shared his theory.

"I want you to get up there and keep him company. I have you two down on the roster as out of town investigating a lead on a corpse we found in the river today. His ID lists him as Ben Macena. He has a long record as a freelance hitter. It will go well with the Ketterling investigation that Peter was working on. The man was shot in the same manner, dropped in the same location. He just didn’t stay down as long."

"It will be a valid excuse for getting the two of you out of town when you have no vacation left. I don’t want all of these unexplained absences to go on Peter’s record. He doesn’t need trouble from IA as well. He’s a good cop."

"What do you know? The Captain has a heart," Kermit teased, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"You should know that better than anyone, Kermit. Just get your hands on Peter Caine and keep him safe by whatever means necessary." A little twinkle came into Karen’s eyes as she watched Kermit rub his wrist. "I would prefer not to have to explain his untimely death at the hands of one of his coworkers, but if you have to restrain him to keep him there, I wouldn’t object."

"Oh yeah," Kermit said, envisioning his revenge on the reason his head hurt.

********

Jessica had found the cabin with very little trouble. Peter gave excellent directions. It had taken her nearly two hours of driving, but her destination was in sight. The end was also in sight. It was time to end the game and get even for Charlie. She looked over at Jaisen, belted into the passenger’s seat of her Porsche. He was nervously checking and rechecking his Sig Saur handgun.

"You won’t need that," Jessica told him, smiling. "I told you, Caine will end his own life."

"And just how are you going to get him to do that. This isn’t your office. We can’t blind side him and shoot him full of drugs like we did there. He is jumpy. He knows he’s being followed. That’s why he’s here," Jaisen tried to reason with her. He didn’t like her plan one bit. How do you make a man commit suicide, slash his wrists and watch while the blood emptied out of his body?

"The hypnotherapy, combined with the drugs I prescribed, will keep young Detective Caine pliable. He won’t do anything that would go against his principles, just like with regular hypnosis. He won’t have to, though. Time after time he has risked his life for complete strangers. He would gladly give his life for a friend. The drugs just keep him off balance enough that he won’t be able to come up with a viable alternative."

"Did you bring the pictures?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jaisen said, pulling out a manila envelope. "They’re all here."

"You did develop a fresh set. No pesky fingerprints on them, right?" the doctor asked, then seeing Jaisen’s ‘just how dumb do you think I am?’ expression, she continued.

"Good. They will be extra leverage in case we need to convince Mr. Caine that the only way he can save those around him is to end his own miserable existence. " Her eyes glowed with fury. Mentally torturing the detective had been fun. Making love to him was even better. Watching his blood run out of his arms and onto the floor would be the best.

***

"Kermit, before you leave, there’s something I think you should see. This was FedEx-ed over to us this morning from Langly. It had your name on it, but you weren’t there so Blake signed for it. He said that it is the analysis that you were waiting for," Karen Simms handed Kermit an envelope as he settled into the Kermitmobile for the drive to the cabin. He was taking a chance by just going there without calling to see if that is where Peter was. If he was wrong, he was a couple of hours away. That time could mean the difference between life or death if Peter needed him. It wasn’t really too much of a gamble, however. He patted the tracker unit that he had picked up from Blake earlier in the day. As soon as he was within 30 miles of the cabin he would know if Peter was there. The tiny tracker/bug planted in Peter’s bag was a wise choice on his part.

"There is a search I’m running that should be done soon. Don’t let anyone near my computer, I’ll access it remotely," Kermit called as he pulled out of the parking space.

*As if anyone would dare!* Karen thought as she watched him drive away.

[end part 19]

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Part 20

Kermit read the report when he stopped to gas up the Kermitmobile halfway to the cabin. He shook his head at the results of the analysis of Peter’s antidepressant pill.

His friend wrote that even though the pill looked exactly like a 10 mg Elevil tablet, it contained an entirely different list of components. Mosley suggested that it had been made like a placebo was made up in drug research. . . identical to the real thing by design. It was easy enough to do if one had the right connections.

The analysis made Kermit even more apprehensive. One of the ingredients of the prescription had been something called warfarin sodium, an anticoagulant. Why the Hell was a psychiatrist giving Peter something to prevent clotting of the blood? It didn’t add up. The computer whiz couldn’t wait to get to the cabin and download Jessica LaKaisen’s "personal" file from his computer. The man behind the green shades smiled wickedly. It paid to hack into the FBI and CIA’s confidential files. There was so much there that other agencies left out. . .

***

Dr. Jessica LaKaisen didn’t know whether she should feel elation or let down. The end was in sight. Her revenge would be complete; Charlie would be avenged. The only man that she had ever really loved would be able to rest. Seeing Peter’s Stealth parked outside the cabin caused a wave of excitement to pass through her.

"Jaisen, I want you to wait in the car until I come out for you. I need to make sure he is "under control" before you go in," the psychiatrist instructed. She picked up a package from the back seat before proceeding.

"Damn," Jaisen thought aloud as he watched the doctor proceed to the cabin. "I wouldn’t want to be him."

****

Peter had remained in the "twilight state" as Jessica liked to call it since he had revealed his whereabouts to the doctor. He had been told to expect the doctor, and to greet her when she arrived. Seeing her enter the cabin seemed like the most natural thing in the world to him at that moment.

"Dostoevsky," Jessica uttered the magic word, a needless precaution. Upon observation of the detective, she knew that the "sessions" had finally taken complete hold of him. He had remained "under" for nearly an two hours without reinforcement. Pity there wouldn’t be more time to make use of that.

"Peter, I want you to put this on." The doctor handed him the package she had carried in from the car. He obediently took the parcel and opened it to reveal a men’s straitjacket, one size fits most. Without hesitation he stripped off his shirt and pulled the jacket on over bare skin. A puzzled look appeared on his features when he could not get his hands through the sewn-shut sleeves.

"Don’t worry about it. That is good enough. Here let me fasten it for you," Jessica offered in a voice that suggested she was going to help him with a pesky cuff link. He remained completely docile while she fastened the buckles in the back. She threaded the straps at the ends of the sleeves across his chest, then through the loops on the sides. Finally, she pulled the straps tight, binding his arms crisscrossed. He did not protest. Jessica considered the strap that was supposed to pass between the legs to anchor the jacket down, then discarded it. The strap was too narrow. I would cause bruising if he struggled and she did not want to leave any evidence.

Making sure that the jacket was properly secured and adjusted, she instructed him to sit in a straight back dining room chair. He sat. A smile crossed Jessica’s lips. Perhaps just once more, she thought as she considered his lean body. After all, she had enjoyed making him her physical lover so much. Glancing at her watch, she sighed.

"Sorry, Peter, we need to get this show on the road. I guess you go to your grave without one last fling." With that statement, she walked over to the door and signaled Jaisen to come in. She met him at the door.

"There is a roll of packing wrap in the trunk. Be a dear and bring it, won’t you?" she commanded with words that asked.

Jaisen Washington looked at the doctor quixotically then shrugged. He retrieved the roll from the Mercedes’ trunk. It looked like really thick Saran Wrap, about 18" wide. What the Hell did she want that for? He carried the stuff into the cabin, then asked that very question.

Meanwhile, Jessica had placed a pillow in the chair behind Peter’s back and had another on the floor near his feet.

"The wrap is to secure him to the chair. I want him aware when I talk to him, when I tell him why he is going to die. I want to look into his eyes and see the terror, then the resignation as he realizes that he has no choice. Either he does this, or more of his friends die. I can’t use ropes or cuffs because I have been giving him blood thinners with the other meds for nearly a week and he will bruise just by looking at him. We can’t have rope marks or hand prints on him, now can we?" Jessica explained without emotion, as if she were describing a clinical study.

"Jesus, you are a cold bitch," Jaisen could not help muttering.

"You’ll never know how cold, my dear man. Now wrap that stuff tightly around both him and the chair. Use a lot of layers. They use the stuff to keep boxes on pallets during transportation. It should hold one slightly weakened super cop." Jessica watched as the man followed her instructions. Peter sat calmly in the chair, as if he were watching a magic show and the magicians were preparing for the next trick. When Jaisen had encased the detective’s chest in wrap, Dr. LaKaisen placed the second pillow behind his legs and instructed Jaisen to secure them as well. His task completed, she sent her pet killer to watch the road, in case anyone should happen to come to visit.

The doctor stood back and eyed the cocooned cop a moment, evaluating just how securely he was held to the chair. It would do. Now for the next step.

"Peter, I am going to count to 10. . . When I reach 10, you will wake up and be completely aware. . . You will feel trapped. . . You will remember everything that occurred during our sessions together, including making love to me. . . 1. . . 2. . .

[end part 20]

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