Page 90 of Ground Truth

Drake finished his sandwich and pushed the plate away. “Now what? Back to the hospital?”

“Yeah. Greta’s not here.”

“How do you know?”

“Sammy would have reacted differently if he’d ever seen Greta or heard anything about her. And Brand wouldn’t be with another woman if Greta were living with him,” Flint replied, draining the last of the tea. “This town’s too small for secrets like that.”

“Agreed. What about the crematorium? How’s that fit in?” Drake asked.

“The only answer that fits the known facts is too heinous to believe. Greta Campbell might have taken her own life if she’d found out,” Flint replied stone-faced. “Unless Brand killed her before she had the chance.”

“That can’t be true. Because Hanna saw Greta on that video,” Drake said like a petulant bulldog refusing to accept defeat.

“Did she actually see Greta, though? She can’t prove it. Neither can we.” Flint tossed a few bills on the bar. “Let’s find the bastard, get what we came for, and get the hell out of here.”

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Chapter 45

Flint led the way to the gravel parking lot at Breeze In’s back exit. The crematorium van was gone, and the parking lot was almost deserted.

“Brand is expecting us to show up at the hospital. He’s a coward. He’ll leave early if Genevieve delivered our message,” Drake said, taking long strides to keep up with Flint.

“That’s why we’re getting there before he can hightail it off the island.”

“You’re planning to stop him?” Drake said. “I’m up for that.”

Flint grinned. “Thought you might be.”

“What did you find in that van that’s got you so riled up anyway?” Drake asked as they rounded the corner.

Flint took a deep breath to steady his queasy stomach. “Looks like Brand may be selling organs to wealthy patients and killing the donors to get their hearts and complete the deal. Just like he did to Ella Belle.”

Drake turned green. “Was he planning to do the same thing to Greta?”

“I wouldn’t put it past the bastard,” Flint replied without pausing.

They retraced their route to the parked Vespas, fired them up, and rolled past the country club toward Atabei Hospital.

The tropical community was still pristine and beautiful.

Yet, after finding the desecrated bodies in the van, the inviting paradise made Flint’s skin crawl. Deep malevolence was thriving here. Hedinger and Brand were to blame.

Ernst Hedinger was the furthest thing from a Boy Scout, but this was a new level of depraved, even for him.

They pulled the Vespas around to the hospital’s back parking lot. Flint rolled along slowly until he found a parking place reserved for Dr. Stephen Brand. He parked the Vespa behind Brand’s luxury sedan and dismounted.

“Wait here,” he said as he removed his helmet and hung it on the Vespa. “Keep a lookout for Brand.”

“You’re going inside alone?” Drake asked. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

Flint ignored the question. “I’ll flush him out. If we’re lucky, he’ll come back here for his car.”

“And if he does?”

“Hold him. We need to know about Greta. He might know where she is,” Flint said. “But if he strikes, take him out. We’ll find her without him if we need to.”

Flint hurried past Brand’s car and headed toward the hospital’s back entrance.

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