Ash Reckoning

by Samson Weld

  “You want to explain that?”

  “What is it?” Dale asked, leaning over to read.

  Ash watched him closely. Dale’s breath caught and then his face became deathly pale again. Was that a tremor in his hands? His brother cast calculating eyes at him.

  “Looks like some kind of report,” Dale said. “What does that have to do with me?”

  Hands curling into fists, Ash stepped closer. He got right up in his brother’s face.

  “That’s not my signature,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s yours. I recognize your handwriting, little brother.”

  Dale cringed, whether from the accusation or the hissed “little brother.” Ash didn’t know. Didn’t care. His brother had the guiltiest look on his face and Dale normally had an amazing poker face.

  “Feeling guilty?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “I disagree. It’s exactly what I think,” Ash snapped. “You forged an official report and signed my name. That’s fraud, any way you fucking slice it!”

  “Ash…”

  “How much did Steinberg pay you? And why would you do such a thing?”

  “I-I owed him a lot of money,” Dale stammered, backing away as he shook his head. “I never dreamed it would escalate like that. It never occurred to me that he’d put a hit out on you to cover his tracks.”

  “You know all about it,” Ash said, feeling sick. “And still you said nothing to me, or the authorities. Instead, you still help him.”

  “He’d kill me!” Dale cried. “I swear, I never wanted Milly and the boys hurt, but…”

  “What?!”

  For a moment, Ash couldn’t think or breathe. What did Dale and Steinberg have to do with his family’s murder? They were just innocent bystanders when a drug deal had gone sideways. They’d been caught in the crossfire. That’s what the police had said. Ash had never heard anything to the contrary.

  “What are you talking about, Dale? Did Steinberg kill my family?”

  Dale looked stricken. “I don’t know. He hired some street thug, drug dealers or something, to kill you. But the fuckups killed Milly and the twins, along with a few other bystanders, instead. I guess they thought you were dead, too.”

  Dale gave him a look that said his brother wished it was so.

  A right cross sent Dale crashing into the door. Ash jumped on him, yanking his brother off the floor and hurling him atop the bed. Dale rolled off the other side, trying to keep the bed between them.

  Ash growled, too angry and heartbroken to contain it. His brother had helped his family’s killers. He wasn’t just responsible for Deanna’s death, but also for the death of his wife and kids.

  “What did you do?” he demanded. “Why?!”

  “For the money, okay? I needed money! I’d lost a bundle to him in a high-stakes game,” Dale said. “He threatened to kill me.”

  “So you helped him kill my family?”

  “No, I just signed the document Steinberg provided. Then I went over to visit Milly in the middle of the afternoon while you were at work,” Dale said. “While she was in the kitchen getting us a snack, I got onto your home computer, logged into your company account, and submitted the report.” He nodded hopefully. “That’s all I did.”

  “How did you log into my company’s system?”

  Dale smiled. Ash noted a bit of disdain in his eyes.

  “I’d noticed you keep a list of passwords under the keyboard. Not smart, brother.”

  Ash surged up onto the bed in a flash and plowed into Dale. He placed his shoulder into his brother’s solar plexus, knocking Dale’s breath out as he tackled him. And then Ash unleashed on him.

  He couldn’t recall if Dale put up any semblance of a fight. All Ash knew was cold fury as he pounded fist after fist into his brother’s face. Dale lay unconscious by the time Ash came to his senses.

  Blood was splattered all over both of them, all over the carpet around Dale’s head. It was so bad that he had to check for a pulse.

  “Good. I don’t want you dead,” Ash growled. “I want to put you in prison.”

  Chapter 41

  Nathan Ogden had called in sick at work today but he wasn’t at his apartment. Bellucci contacted his wife and known friends for a list of his favorite hangouts. It proved to be a long list and no one knew where he was. So on a hunch, Bellucci called his estranged wife back.

  “Mrs. Ogden, this is Detective Bellucci again. I was wondering, do you still share a checking account with him?”

  “Yes. I haven’t started my own yet,” she said. “Why?”

  “Does your husband use a bank card? Like a Visa or MasterCard?”

  “Yes. Again, why?”

  Bellucci smiled. She nodded at Boone.

  “Could you do me a favor and check the account online?” she asked. “Check to see if he’s used his card this afternoon, and how recently.”

  The soon-to-be-ex seemed to like that idea. She put Bellucci on speaker. The two cops listened to Mrs. Ogden typing away and then heard her cry of pleasure.

  “Detective!” she said, after picking up the phone again. “Got him. Bank records show he just used his card at Samuel’s.”

  “Is that a bar or restaurant?”

  “Yes. It’s a party bar he likes, over on Lower Greenville,” she said. “I’m sure he’s there right now.”

  After thanking Mrs. Ogden for her help, Bellucci stood up and smoothed her skirt. Boone and about half the squad room paused to watch. She felt her face heating up. Yeah, definitely the last time she wore a skirt and heels to work.

  “You’re with me, Boone,” she said. “Let’s go talk to Mr. Ogden.”

  Lower Greenville was an entertainment district. Indeed, she’d recently learned that Greenville Avenue had two popular entertainment districts along its length. Upper Greenville was closer to her home so she’d visited a few places there. It was her first visit to Lower Greenville.

  Samuel’s Bar and Grill was a lot more upscale than she anticipated. When Mrs. Ogden described it as a party bar, she’d envisioned something like Dave & Buster’s. It wasn’t. The place was crowded for a Monday afternoon, with college-aged kids barely old enough to drink. Mostly hot young women in small groups. There was a lot of intermingling of groups and sexes too.

  “Well, now we know what kind of party Ogden likes,” Boone said. “If this isn’t a hookup place, I don’t know what is.”

  Bellucci agreed, even though no one seemed dressed to impress. Casual attire ruled, with only a few men in suits or women in sexy outfits.

  “Split up,” Bellucci said. “But don’t confront Ogden without me.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Bellucci went right as Boone left. She pushed through the crowd, wondering if the music could be louder. No, impossible. She found the reason for the loud music a moment later—DJ in the house. He played a nice mix of rock and pop, with a heavy sprinkling of Top twenty rap.

  A tall, slim man suddenly blocked her passage. The look on his face screamed drunk as a skunk. He bit his lip as he looked her up and down. Bellucci guessed his age around twenty-five, more than a decade younger than her.

  “Oh baby, I love me a hot MILF,” he slurred. His eyes dropped to her chest and then lower. “Those hips don’t lie.”

  “MILF?” she repeated. Kind of pissed her off. “I’m not anyone’s mother.”

  “If you say so, beautiful. How about you and me go…”

  Bellucci flipped her badge open in his face. “Go to jail? Is that what you wanted?”

  His jaw dropped.

  “Did you drive here? Where’s your designated drive, mister?”

  “Uh, uh,” he said before darting into the crowd.

  Bellucci grinned and shook her head. I’m so glad I’m not that young and stupid anymore. And then, MILF? How old does he think I am?

  “Bellucci!” Boone screamed.

  All hell broke loose on the other side. Bellucci heard Boone, and then another man, start c
ursing. The other cop came stumbling backwards as she rushed over, followed by a large, angry man.

  “Stop!” she cried, reaching for her pistol. “Police!”

  He froze, looking her dead in the eyes. Right off, she recognized him as Nathan Ogden. A very enraged Ogden at that. Right then, he snatched up a chair and hurled it at her.

  Bellucci had to duck and dash to the side. Boone rolled back to his feet at that time and charged straight into Ogden.

  They traded a flurry of blows, punching and kicking. She could tell both men had martial arts training. Ogden got the best of the exchange and was able to shake Boone long enough to take off running.

  “Boone, he’s going for the back door!” Bellucci cried.

  Boone took off after him. She turned and ran out the front door. Ogden didn’t stand a chance if they got him between them. Her shoes seriously slowed her, but it wasn’t her first bust in heels. She was outside in nothing flat, charging around to the side.

  “Dammit,” she cried. “Boone!”

  “I see him,” Boone called.

  Ogden ran over to the next business’s parking lot and vanished behind the building. Boone was hot on his tail so Bellucci headed straight across the front parking lot, again hoping to trap him between her and her partner.

  “I got him!” Boone cried.

  Bellucci redoubled her efforts. She could hear Boone fighting Ogden around the corner. It didn’t take more than a dozen seconds, but when she rounded the corner Ogden was flipping Boone over and onto the concrete ground. Her partner looked stunned.

  And then she noticed the pistol in Ogden’s hand.

  Boone’s weapon!

  “No!” she cried.

  Pap-pap-pap-pap!

  Bellucci’s heart stopped. Ogden emptied the pistol into Boone’s chest. The young cop was not wearing a vest. Blood flew everywhere as he fired. Then she saw the slider lock back on the pistol, showing he was out of ammo.

  She stared at the scowling man in horror. His head slowly turned toward her, a cruel smirk starting to spread. Ogden’s hands began to lift up in surrender.

  Boone didn’t deserve to die. Ogden had actually enjoyed killing him.

  Something snapped. Bellucci wasn’t even sure she’d pulled the trigger. The first time. She definitely pulled it the second and third time. Ogden looked shocked as his arms flew wide, losing the stolen pistol as he fell straight back.

  The blackest despair washed over her.

  Chapter 42

  “This is unacceptable,” Steinberg said. “The son of a bitch tried to kill me this morning.”

  “Well, we don’t know he was specifically coming after you,” Fiona said.

  “I disagree. He shouted threats at me. He used my name, Fiona,” Steinberg said, hand curling into fists. “How did he find out about my involvement?”

  Steinberg’s phone sat on the motel room’s table as he paced around it. The billionaire paused to look around. It’d been decades since he’d stayed in such shabby accommodations. He eyed the queen-sized bed, so poorly made, and couldn’t imagine what kind of vermin inhabited it. Probably bedbugs. Definitely roaches.

  “I have to get out of here, Fiona,” he said, producing a half-empty pack of Marlboros. He put one between his lips and started patting his pockets for his lighter. “I want my jet on standby.”

  “Already done,” she replied. “The pilot is on site now and the co-pilot is on the way.”

  He stared at the phone, wishing he were back home in California. Why did he think being here would expedite things? Killers like Carpenter moved at their own pace and didn’t appreciate supervision.

  Finding his Zippo, Steinberg flipped it open with his thumb as he lifted it toward his face. He’d used that gold lighter so long that he didn’t have to think about it. His thumb flicked the flint wheel, causing a spark and lighting the flame a bare second before it reached the end of his cigarette. A second later, his cigarette was ablaze, the lighter back in his pocket.

  “You’re the best, Fiona. I’m not going to stay one minute longer than necessary in this flea-infested room,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m working on finding you a safe haven to stay as we speak.”

  He heard typing over the phone. Safe haven. Because of Wexler, now he had to go into hiding. It should be the other way around. Everything he’d worked so hard for was in jeopardy.

  “Oh, I just got an alert on my phone,” she said. “Looks like Wexler has arrived outside.”

  Steinberg’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t think or breathe, until he remembered she’d warned him that Dale wanted to see him. Ashley Wexler’s idiot brother swore that it was urgent. Really, the last person he wanted to see was anyone with the Wexler name.

  “Did you have to tell him where to find me?”

  “You authorized it,” Fiona said. “And I actually booked the Uber for him, just so I could get the alert and give you a heads up.”

  His longtime assistant could be annoying, but did she think of everything. He took another long drag while thinking back over their years together. To think, he’d only hired her right out of college because she was drop dead gorgeous and willing to sleep with him. He never imagined just how important she’d become to his everyday life, both personal and business.

  “Fine. I’ll speak to him, but I’m heading to the airport immediately afterwards.”

  “Wonderful, sir. I’ll alert the jet to expect you,” she said. “Will any of your, uh, men be flying out with you?”

  “No. They still have a job to finish here,” he said. Dale began knocking on the door. It was a hard, urgent knock. So aggravating. “I have to go.”

  Steinberg ended the call and pocketed the phone before answering the door. Dale Wexler stood there with a desperate, haunted look. More worrisome, his face looked bruised and swollen.

  “What happened to you?”

  “My brother happened to me,” Dale said, pushing past him. “Ash knows I helped you! Back in LA, five years ago.”

  “Jesus…”

  “He almost beat me to death. What am I going to do?”

  Steinberg stared at the man. Wexler had almost killed his own brother over it? Maybe he’d underestimated Ash, and overestimated Dale. The man before him was clearly coming unraveled.

  “You have to protect me.”

  Steinberg’s eyes narrowed. He pulled out his phone and sent a text message before looking at Dale straight in the eyes.

  “Tell me what happened. What exactly does your brother know?”

  “He figured out I signed the insurance report with his name on it,” Dale said. “He knows I did it for you. For your… insurance scam.”

  “How does he know I put you up to it?”

  Dale stopped moving, eyes looking anywhere but at him. Then he shrugged. “He’s a smart man, and experienced. He was basically an investigator at the insurance company. Besides, everyone knows that the person profiting is the guilty party.”

  “I see,” he replied. There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

  Carpenter came into the room. Dale watched him warily.

  “Who are you?”

  “His name is unimportant,” Steinberg said. “He is a trusted associate of mine. We can speak freely in front of him. Now, tell me where I can find your brother?”

  Dale looked confused. “I don’t know. Ash didn’t say anything about moving, so his apartment, I guess.”

  “No. He’s not staying there anymore. And his farmhouse has been destroyed,” Steinberg said. “Where would he go? Do you know of any place or an area of the city he prefers?”

  “What about Deanna’s place?”

  Steinberg looked at Carpenter. The mercenary shook his head confidently.

  “No. We have remote cameras on both his and her apartments,” Carpenter said. “Is there a particular chain of motels your brother always uses? Is there a certain part of the Dallas/Fort Worth area he prefers
to stay in?”

  “I’m not that close to my brother,” Dale said. “It never occurred to me to ask him anything like that. I hadn’t seen him in years before this week.”

  “Do you know anything at all useful?” Steinberg asked.

  “Only that he’s violently angry. You have to protect me. I served you well, Mr. Steinberg. I’ve stayed loyal to you, too.”

  “Have you? You didn’t tell your brother everything you know?” Steinberg asked, voice becoming icy. “Did he beat it out of you, Mr. Wexler?”

  “No, no, that’s not what happened. He just barged into my room and accused me of helping you in that insurance scam,” Dale said. “He didn’t even know you put a hit out on him that resulted in his family’s death.”

  “He really knows?”

  “Yes!”

  “So that means you told him.”

  Dale froze. He started backing away, shaking his head. “No. Wait, I’m getting confused. What I meant to say…”

  “Is that you are weak and pathetic, and told your brother everything,” Steinberg said. “Carpenter.”

  Dale made a dash for the open door. Carpenter intercepted him.

  “No, wait!”

  Steinberg watched in morbid fascination as the hired killer caught Dale, forced him to his knees, and then seized his head in both hands. He snapped his neck, almost casually.

  It all happened in less than ten seconds.

  “That was amazing,” Steinberg whispered. Dale’s body collapsed bonelessly to the floor, his dead eyes still wide in shock. “Leave him. Get me to the airport. I’ll leave you to take care of the other Wexler brother as you see fit.”

  “Good,” Carpenter said. “With you safely away, we’ll be able to put all of our efforts into finding and killing Wexler. I promise you, he will be dead by the end of the week.”

  Chapter 43

  “Holy crap!” Ash cried, gaping.

  He’d watched Carpenter enter the motel room, only moments after his brother had entered. Ash never got a good look at the man who’d let his brother inside. Carpenter being here confirmed that Dale had led him to the right place.