Roadkill

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  The escalation of events had happened so fast, Adam couldn’t even think. As much as he wanted to save Max, he needed to save himself. “I tell you and I get no prison time?”

  “The crimes you committed—were all of them at the request of someone else?”

  Adam glanced up at the tiny red light below the room’s surveillance camera. “Off the record until I see the deal.”

  Whitaker stared into the tinted window on the wall across from the table, making a back-and-forth sweeping gesture in the air with his hand. Seconds later the light turned off. “We’ve done what you asked. Now it’s your turn.”

  “My crimes were at the request of someone else. But I was paid. If that affects my deal, we have nothing left to talk about.”

  Whitaker took some time to think and then said, “I believe we can work something out.”

  “I’ll also only disclose information about what’s happened in the last few weeks with Juliette Granger and her death. I’ll tell you about the business, but I’m not giving up the names of anyone who has hired our company. And I’ll need to be in the Witness Protection Program. Even if I don’t give up our client list, they’ll assume I have. I’ll be a target, and they’ll come after me.”

  Whitaker nodded. “I understand. I’ll check with my superior to confirm, but I believe we have ourselves a deal.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Whitaker entered the same room he’d questioned Adam Chase in an hour before. He didn’t sit this time, choosing instead to lean against the wall, tilting his head toward the man he was certain knew the answers to all his questions. Rattling him would be easy. Getting him to admit his guilt wouldn’t be. “Tell me about your side business, Max.”

  After a brief pause, Max said, “There is no side business.”

  Whitaker exchanged glances with Ford, who had entered the room alongside him. “So, you don’t run a murder-for-hire business using a handful of dishonorably discharged military snipers?”

  “Sounds like an interesting theory. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Whitaker held the black business card in front of him. “Really? Because I was told if you dial this number and use the word ‘brugad,’ a meeting is set up wherein payment is made in exchange for killing someone your client wants dead. Brugad. It’s a curious word. You know what it means, don’t you? It’s mob-speak for family.”

  A smug, unimpressed Max leaned back in his chair, bringing one foot over his knee. “Why don’t we dial the number listed on the card and see what happens?”

  “Oh, I have. Problem is, it’s out of service now, unlike the first time I called when a man answered and then hung up when I didn’t give him the password he wanted.”

  “What a shame. My lawyer will be here shortly. Until then, I must insist you don’t ask any further questions.”

  Whitaker removed a small tape recorder from his pocket. “I’d like to play something for you, if you don’t mind. Hell, I’ll play it for you even if you do mind.”

  He placed the recorder on the table and pressed play. Adam’s voice streamed through the speaker.

  “I started working for Max Duran six years ago, shortly after the military let me go. He gave me an investment job at his company while he groomed me to work for a secret side business he’d started.”

  “What business is that?”

  “Murder for hire.”

  “Turn it off,” Max said. “He’s only saying what you want to hear because you’ve bullied him into a false confession. Happens all the time.”

  The tape played on with Adam explaining how the business worked, how the deals were made, and how many people he estimated he himself had killed.

  “What was Juliette Granger’s relationship to Max?”

  “She was his girlfriend.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know. Two or three years, I guess.”

  “Why was she murdered?”

  “She witnessed him kill another man. After it happened, he worried she’d run, and so he had us all take turns tailing her in case she did. It was a pain in the ass, to be honest. We sat down the street from her place day and night, just sitting. It got old real fast. I thought he was paranoid. But I also knew if she ran, she was a dead woman.”

  “Who killed her?”

  “Victor. Jonas was also there. He was supposed to do it himself. He couldn’t, so he had Victor take care of it, which was how everything got screwed up in the first place.”

  “And Nora—what happened to her?”

  “She was removed from Juliette’s car before her car went over the ledge. Jonas was supposed to deliver her to Max when he got back that day, but he didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re not sure. He was packing his bags and planning to leave the morning he was supposed to deliver her. We assumed he intended to take Nora with him. He took her to Kimberly Crosby’s house, thinking no one would know she was there. Max knew, though. He knows everything. He’s always watching.”

  “Who killed Jonas?”

  “Max.”

  “Where’s Seth Granger?”

  “Dead.”

  “How do you know? Did you kill him?”

  “I picked him up at the bar and took him to Max’s house. Not long after, Max asked me to make a call to arrange to get rid of the body.”

  “Are you willing to testify to all of this in court?”

  “If I’m protected—yes.”

  “Your associate goes on, of course, but I think you’ve heard enough.” Whitaker pushed a button on the recorder, stopping it. He waved a hand toward the door. Two armed police officers walked in. “These two officers will escort you to holding while you wait for your lawyer to get here. It’s a good thing he’s coming. The sooner the better, I say. You’re going to need him.”

  CHAPTER 56

  I sat in the passenger seat of Ford’s vehicle. He’d refused to bring me along at first, but then changed his mind after deciding Nora had been through enough. She deserved to see the face of a person she knew and trusted as soon as she was safe. I’d been given strict instructions to remain in the car when we arrived, which I agreed to do—for now.

  The plan was simple. Using Max’s cell phone, a text had been sent to Victor saying Adam would be there to hand the money over in exchange for Nora. Adam rebuffed the idea at first, until he was reminded that his cooperation in Nora’s rescue was part of the deal he’d made with police.

  We parked a good distance from the restaurant, and Ford switched the car off. “You’re going to stay put this time, right?”

  I nodded. “Right.”

  He waited for the SWAT team to arrive and then exited. The armed men filed out, disappearing into the night. Seconds later, Whitaker walked past my car, with Adam by his side.

  Five minutes passed, then ten.

  I heard nothing, saw nothing.

  What’s happening?

  At fifteen minutes, I crept toward the restaurant with only a single dim light to guide me. I neared the side of the building, hearing the sound of raised voices nearby. I leaned against the brick exterior of the building, sliding my body forward a few inches at a time until I reached the edge.

  Two men stood in the alleyway, guns drawn.

  One said, “You’re twenty minutes late, Victor.”

  The other replied, “Why are you here, Adam? Where’s Max?”

  “He texted you. You knew he wouldn’t be here.”

  Victor scanned the area. “Come on out, Max. I know you’re here.”

  “I told you. He sent me. I’m alone.”

  “And here I thought he’d show up and try to kill me. Where’s the money?”

  “Where’s Nora?”

  “She’s close by.”

  “I need to see her.”

  “Money first.”

  “Kid first.”

  “Money, Adam. I won’t ask again.”

  Adam opened the duffel bag he was carrying and removed a stack of bills. �
��It’s all here, five million. You want it, you give me Nora. We both walk away. And if you want some unsolicited advice, I suggest you leave the country before Max finds you.”

  Victor waved his gun in the air, laughing. “You’re a funny guy, Adam. Do you really think I believe Max isn’t here? The minute I give her over to you, I’m a dead man. He killed Trevor over nothing. I killed his only sibling. There’s no chance he’d ever let something like that go. It’s not in him.”

  A thick, strong hand reached around me from behind, pressing against my lips.

  I turned, facing a ticked-off Ford. He held a finger to his lips, ensuring I kept quiet. I nodded.

  “So how’s this going to work?” Adam said. “You want the money, and I need to take Nora to Max, and I don’t know what else to say to convince you he’s not here.”

  “Put him on the phone.”

  The suggestion took Adam by surprise. “Even if I call him, he won’t talk to you.”

  “He’ll talk to you, though, his favorite whipping boy. Do it, or we’re done here.”

  Adam slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, took out his phone, dialed, and waited. “It’s ringing. What do you want me to say to him?”

  “Hand me the phone when he answers. I’ll say it myself.”

  Adam paused, then said, “He didn’t answer. Told you.”

  “He parted with five million dollars to get the little brat back and he can’t take your call? Where is he?”

  Max stepped into the alley, hands raised. “I’m right here, Victor, and I’m not armed. You can check if you like.”

  “I do like.” Victor walked over and patted Max down. “Why didn’t you come out before?”

  “I only just arrived. I sent Adam along ahead of me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t care whether you believe me or not. And I don’t care about the money. I can always make more. All I care about is Nora.”

  Victor pressed his gun to the center of Max’s head. “Why? Why is she worth so much to you?”

  “It doesn’t concern you. Hand her over and go. I never want to see you again, and if you’re stupid enough to stick around, consider yourself dead.”

  Victor grunted a laugh. “Stand next to Adam.”

  Max walked over, glaring at Adam. He held out a hand, and Adam gave him the bag of money. Max whispered something to Adam, which seemed to spook him, but he quickly regained his cool.

  “I’d like to see Nora now,” Max said. “Let’s make an even exchange.”

  Victor walked backward toward the restaurant, his eyes locked on Max and Adam. He passed it, opening the door of the next building over. He reached in, grabbed hold of Nora’s arm, and pulled her out, pressing her against his body while he walked forward. I clasped my hands over my mouth, steadying myself against Ford to keep my wobbly legs from buckling beneath me.

  There she was—dirty and scared and beautiful. And best of all ... alive.

  Victor stopped a few feet in front of Max and said, “Toss me the bag.”

  “Let her go,” Max said. “Let her walk to me.”

  Max bent down, his arms open wide.

  “Walk to Max,” Victor said.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Max said. “Come to Daddy. It’s all right.”

  Daddy?

  No.

  It can’t be.

  He’s lying.

  He has to be lying.

  Thumb jammed inside her mouth, Nora walked toward Max. Feeling safe, Victor did what I assumed he’d planned to do all along. He held one gun in each outstretched hand and fired.

  Adam’s gun, given to him by police, had no bullets. Victor’s gun, aimed at Max, missed its target, grazing the side of Nora’s head instead.

  As the SWAT team moved in, I sprinted toward her, scooping her up in my arms.

  Terror-stricken, she clutched me. “Ree-Ree. I want my mommy.”

  I kissed her tear-stained face and turned, sprinting to the protection of Ford’s outstretched arms.

  “It’s okay, baby girl,” I said. “Auntie Raine’s here now. I’ve got you.”

  CHAPTER 57

  Several months later, I held Nora’s hand as we walked out of the Willow Woods nursing home. A few weeks after moving Nora to my place, I’d returned for Aunt Cora, relocating her to an assisted living facility a few miles from my home. She’d continued to decline in recent months, but I was now stopping in to see her a few times a week.

  Nora had experienced a fair amount of post-traumatic stress following the loss of her parents, and some days proved to be more of a struggle than others, but she was starting to thrive, and I was doing everything I could to allow her the time she needed to deal with things in her own way. Being so young, some of the details of what happened had already faded from her mind, but I made sure Juliette and Seth were always present, in photos, in memories, and in her heart.

  “What should we do now?” I asked.

  She grinned, and I tapped her on the nose.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “You want ice cream. Am I right?”

  “Yes, please!”

  “All right. We better get some, then.”

  I secured her into her car seat and she said, “Ree-Ree? Can Will and Sherlock come too?”

  After Juliette and Seth’s funerals, Ford had started calling me, first to see how Nora and I were doing, and then one night, he asked if he could stop by. He showed up with Chinese takeout and a wooden dollhouse for Nora that she loved. Nights together turned into weeks together, and from there, a relationship had started to form. I was learning to trust again. He was too.

  I glanced at the time on the dashboard. “I’m not sure if Will can come with us right now. I think he’s still at work, honey, but why don’t we call him and see?”

  I took out my phone and dialed his number. When he answered, I said, “Your biggest fan requests your presence.”

  “I need about an hour. What can I do for you?”

  “Nora would like some ice cream, and she wants you and Sherlock to join us.”

  “And what about you? What do you need?”

  There was something, one thing I’d thought a lot about lately. “Well, there is one thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “Hurry up and get here, and I will.”

  CHAPTER 58

  The one thing I wanted was a meeting with Max, something I wasn’t sure Ford would be able to make happen, but he pulled some strings, granting me limited access to Max, whose trial was in full swing. Max entered the room and smiled, then looked at Ford and said, “Can I get a moment with her alone?”

  “Not a chance,” Ford said.

  Max turned toward me. “How’s Nora?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “She’s in your custody now, I imagine?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you have a recent photo of her?” he asked.

  “I’m not here to reminisce or to grant a wish you don’t deserve.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  I folded my arms and leaned forward. “I heard what you said the night you made the money exchange with Victor. You asked Nora to come to you, and you called yourself Daddy. Nora is really your daughter, isn’t she?”

  He smiled.

  “I’ve thought a lot about what you did for her,” I said. “At first, I thought you were motivated by guilt, but it didn’t make sense.”

  “You’re right. I was never cursed with a guilty conscience. There’s a reason I’ve gone through the majority of my life unattached. Attachments tend to get in the way, alter a person’s mind, and that leads to poor decisions. But when your sister came to me and said she was pregnant with my baby ... well, everything changed. Suddenly I couldn’t wait to be a father. I never thought I’d give my life for another, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. So, yes. You’re right. Nora is mine. She’s my daughter.”

  Sitting there, listening to his sweet sentiment, made the meeting be
tween the two of us even more worthwhile than I ever imagined. I took my time saying my next words. “Except she isn’t your daughter, after all.”

  He scrunched up his face, confused. “What are you talking about? Of course she is. She looks just like me.”

  “You know what I find shocking? You’re such a structured, organized man, and yet you took my sister at her word and didn’t even bother to take a DNA test. Maybe you did love her in your own sick, twisted way. But the joke’s on you, Max.” I reached in my bag, unfolded a piece of paper, and showed it to him. “I did a DNA test. Here. Look at it for yourself. Nora is not your daughter. She’s Seth’s.”

  He shook his head. “No. You’re wrong. Juliette told me that Nora was mine. She said she hadn’t slept with her husband in months. She never lied to me.”

  Except she had.

  I stood, feeling an immense sense of satisfaction. “What was that one quote about deception, Max?” I put a finger to my lips, feigning deep thought, and then looked him in the eyes. “Ah, I remember. It was something Abraham Lincoln once said. You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time. Looks like you’re the one who ended up the fool. Enjoy prison.”

  THE END

  About Cheryl Bradshaw

  Cheryl Bradshaw is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author writing in the genres of mystery, thriller, paranormal suspense, and romantic suspense. Her novel Stranger in Town (Sloane Monroe series #4) was a 2013 Shamus Award finalist for Best PI Novel of the Year, and her novel I Have a Secret (Sloane Monroe series #3) was a 2013 eFestival of Words winner for best thriller. Since 2013, seven of Cheryl’s novels have made the USA Today bestselling books list.

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