Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [229]
Detective Ford had assured her that Albert Stucky would, indeed, be considered a suspect in Rita’s murder, despite their not finding the missing kidney. Maggie couldn’t understand why Stucky would deviate from his game, or had some unsuspecting customer taken the container home? Was it possible someone could have placed it in his refrigerator without looking, without knowing what was inside? That seemed ridiculous, and Maggie didn’t even want to think about it. The fact was, there wasn’t anything more she could do.
As soon as she came into her room, she noticed the phone’s red message light flashing. She grabbed the receiver and punched in the necessary numbers to retrieve her voice messages. She was used to getting emergency messages about her mother who attempted suicide as often as other women her age treated themselves to a manicure. But weren’t her mother’s new friends supposed to be taking care of her? Who could be calling? There was only one message, and it was, indeed, marked urgent.
“Agent O’Dell. This is Anita Glasco calling for Assistant Director Cunningham. He needs to see you in his office tomorrow morning at nine. Please call me back if you won’t be able to make it. Thank you and have a safe trip home, Maggie.”
Maggie smiled at Anita’s soothing voice, though the message itself set her on edge. She listened to her options, punched the number to erase and hung up. She began pacing, trying to contain the anger before it grabbed hold of her. It was Cunningham’s way of seeing to it that she returned immediately. He knew she would never blow off a request to meet with him. She wondered what he already knew about Rita’s murder, or if he had even considered looking into it. After all, Delaney had probably made it sound as though she was losing her mind, simply imagining things.
She checked her wristwatch and scraped something dry and crusty from its face. She still had about six hours before her rescheduled evening flight. It was the last one to D.C. tonight. If she was to make the appointment with Cunningham in the morning, she couldn’t afford another delay. But how the hell could she leave Kansas City knowing Albert Stucky was here, lurking somewhere in the city? Maybe looking for his next victim right this very minute.
She double-checked the door, making sure it was locked. She added the chain and rammed the back of the wooden desk chair up under the knob, kicking the legs until she was satisfied it was secure. Then she stripped down to her underwear and bra and tossed her smelly clothes and shoes into one of the plastic dry-cleaning bags in the closet. Still smelling them, she triple-bagged them, until the scent seemed to be contained.
She brought her Smith & Wesson with her to the bathroom, leaving it close by on the counter. She left the bathroom door open, slipped out of her bra and panties, then crawled into the shower.
The water beat and massaged her skin. She turned the temperature as hot as she could stand it. She wanted to be rid not only of the smells, but of that crawly feeling just under her skin. That infestation of maggots that invaded her system every time she knew Albert Stucky was nearby. She scrubbed at her skin until it was red and raw. She wanted her mind to be swept clean, and her body to forget the scars.
When she stepped out of the shower, she wiped at the foggy mirror. The brown eyes stared back at her with that damn vulnerability so close to the surface. And the scars were still there, too. Her body was becoming a scrapbook.
The scar began just beneath her breast. With the tip of her index finger, she forced herself to touch it. To trace its puckered line down