Hunted by the Mob

by Elisabeth Rees

  “It’s a fake one, like a party costume, but from a distance it looks just like the real thing.”

  Zeke took off his jacket and loosened his tie. “One of the officers is certain to be the culprit,” he said. “Only they would’ve known the perfect opportunity to strike. Where are they now?”

  “They’re being interviewed at headquarters, but I have to say that they both appeared to do a stand-up job today. They saved Goldie’s life. Officer Moss got her back into the house while Officer Diaz apprehended the shooter.”

  “Then what on earth happened here today, sir?” Zeke said. “Who is doing these things?”

  “That’s what we need to discuss,” Karl said. “We’re having a crisis meeting in the cinema room in two hours. It’s the coolest room in the house, but that’s not saying much, so I suggest you change into something a little less formal.”

  Zeke looked down at his black suit pants. “I’ll be ready.”

  He started up the stairs, leaving his jacket on the banister and removing his tie.

  As he neared the top, Goldie held up a palm, like a traffic cop signaling a stop. “I know what you’re gonna say, Zeke, so I’ll save you the trouble. I should never have gone outside. I was stupid not to realize it was a trap, and I should be more careful next time.” She folded her arms. “Does that just about sum it up?”

  She looked beyond his shoulder, at a fixed point on the wall, unwilling to meet his gaze. Her skin was pale, but dark circles had formed beneath her eyes and she was clenching her jaw, possibly holding back tears. She was forlorn, most likely embarrassed at having been fooled once again, and not likely to respond well to criticism. Remembering his conversation with Garth, Zeke took a step forward and gathered her into his arms, cradling the back of her head, feeling the heat of her nape on his cupped hand.

  “Everything will be fine, Goldie,” he whispered. “I promise.”

  The stiffness in her body loosened in an instant, each of her limbs relaxing and leaning into him. Then she slid her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his shoulder, sighing sadly.

  “I wasn’t expecting this reaction from you,” she said quietly. “I thought you’d be mad.”

  “Why would I be mad?” he asked. “You thought an officer was drowning. And you wanted to risk your life to help him.”

  She let out a tiny sob, but quickly silenced it. “I thought I was going to drown, right there in that pool, and all I could think about was you.”

  His heart exploded in a flutter of beats. What exactly was she saying?

  “Something is happening between us, isn’t it?” he said. “Even though we promised to be strictly professional.”

  “I can’t help it, Zeke. I tried to fight it, but it’s not easy pushing you away all the time.” She sagged a little more. “It’s exhausting.”

  He allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of her body in his arms, in spite of the overwhelming heat and humidity.

  “I think we both knew that there was a strong chemistry between us,” he said. “But we didn’t want to acknowledge it. Seeing you again was like slipping back into a familiar routine. I know we argue, but the love is still there, right?”

  “I don’t know what it is,” she said. “But it keeps drawing me toward you and I don’t know how to make it go away.”

  “Do you want to make it go away?” he asked.

  “Of course, I do. There’s no way you and I can be romantic again, so what’s the point in having these feelings if I can’t do anything with them?”

  He waited a little while before asking his next question, almost certain that he knew the answer but hoping he was wrong anyway.

  “Why can’t we be romantic again?”

  She laughed, not unkindly but loudly enough to let him know that she was dead set against the idea.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? We can barely make it an hour without fighting about the past. You’re always trying to force me to change, and I don’t think you really listen to me when I talk. You only hear what you want to hear.”

  “I haven’t been much help to you, have I?” he said, looking into her eyes. “I thought I could just drop a Bible on your bed and expect God to do all the hard work for me, but that’s not how it works. I know God puts in the hours for us, but I think He expected a little more humility from me. And a little more effort.”

  “What kind of effort are you talking about?” she asked. “The kind of effort that involves an apology perhaps?”

  He ran his gaze across her face, contemplating her words. Could he give her the apology she craved and move forward? If this was the only barrier preventing them from being closer, it was easily removed by the words I’m sorry. He willed himself to say them, to be the bigger person and give her the closure that her father had refused to give her. Yet the apology stuck in his throat, suspended there by the memories of how much damage had been done by his past failure to stand his ground. His false apology to Susan had upended his life, driven him from the church, from his friends and his support network. Starting over in a new place of worship had been tough, and he still resented the fact he’d been forced to do it.

  “I can’t,” he said finally. “It may seem like such a simple thing to you, Goldie, but I can’t give you an apology when it doesn’t come from the heart. It would make me bitter and might even eat away at me.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I want to give you everything you need to be happy, but I have to draw a line here, because it would probably destroy us in the end.”

  “Won’t you at least consider whether you could’ve done things differently?” she asked. “I feel like you’ve dismissed my pain as collateral damage.”

  “No,” he protested. “How could you think that?”

  “You wanted to get on with your life and forget me, so you moved away from the only place I would come looking for you. You took care of your own well-being first and foremost and, even though you didn’t mean to hurt me, you ended up breaking my heart.” She slid his hands from her face. “I can’t think of any other way to describe it than collateral damage. My pain is an unintended consequence of you running away to start over.”

  Zeke’s shirt had begun sticking to his skin, and his physical discomfort only added to his emotional distress. He felt as though he was stuck in a loop, rehashing the same old problems and feelings, never reaching a conclusion or resolution, but destined to remain in the same place forevermore.

  “You already know how I feel about this, Goldie,” he said. “I can’t bear to see you hurting, but I can’t do anything to change it.”

  She stepped back. “Of course you can. You can own it.”

  He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, again considering whether this was a blow he could possibly absorb. Not only would an apology help Goldie heal, but it would smooth the way toward a rekindling of their love. They had never gotten over each other, that much was clear, and no woman had ever come close to filling her shoes.

  “Your father owns all the hurt that’s been inflicted on you,” he said. “You know he does. Your issue is with him, not me.”

  “Does that really matter?” she said. “I just want someone to say I’m sorry.” Tears were filling her eyes. “Why can’t that person be you?”

  Closing his eyes briefly, he reminded himself of the damage he could inflict by compromising his principles. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t.”

  “I understand,” she said, turning to head in the direction of her bedroom. “It’s obviously not meant to be.”

  He watched her disappear into her room, firmly closing the door behind her, as if closing the door on their relationship. He wanted to go after her, to promise her everything she wanted. But how long would he be able to hold out before acrimony set in? How long would it take for their happiness to deteriorate into a quagmire of squabbles and recriminations?

  When
it came to taking the blame for Goldie’s pain, his heart told him yes, but he was determined that this time his head would rule the day.

  * * *

  “Well, here we all are once again,” Christina said, standing in front of the huge screen in the cinema room, in an uncharacteristic loose and flowing dress. “I apologize for my informal attire today but it’s as hot as the desert out there, so I ditched the suit.” She looked around the room at Zeke, Goldie, Garth and Karl, noting the assortment of shorts and T shirts. “And I can see that you guys wisely did the same.”

  “The technician completed the repair and has left the house,” Karl said. “But he said it might take a good hour or so for the central air to start functioning on full capacity.”

  “It can’t come a moment too soon,” Christina said, turning to the screen and activating it with the remote control in her hand. An image of the backyard flickered to life, taken from the CCTV camera that was rigged up on the back wall of the house. “I thought I’d show you what happened today and give you an overview of developments.”

  She pressed the controller in her hand, and the image came to life. Goldie was shamefaced to see herself appear on the screen, flitting across the tile with a slight limp and diving headfirst into the pool to try to save a tailor’s dummy.

  The screen showed Goldie turning over the dummy, realizing her mistake and staring around the yard in confusion and panic. Then, somewhere in the corner of the yard a light flashed twice, just for a fraction of a second, but bright enough to catch everybody’s attention.

  Christina paused the image. “There.” She pointed to a spot on the top of the fence. “Did you see that? Something flashed right there.”

  “What was it?” Zeke asked.

  Christina held up a cell phone. “It was this phone. It had been stuck into the barbed wire, facing the hills, and was subsequently remotely activated to flash twice.”

  “It was a signal,” Zeke said. “A signal that Goldie was out in the open.”

  “Correct,” Christina replied. “We think that someone was giving the green light to a sniper, letting him know that his target was available. It works on a simple phone signal and can be activated with a touch of a button on another cell. But it requires a close proximity, so the person would have to have been nearby.”

  “Can’t we just check the CCTV footage to see who placed the cell phone there?” Zeke asked. “That should also tell us who pushed the dummy into the pool.”

  Christina smiled wryly. “Just after 7:00 a.m. this morning, someone obscured the camera lens with this.” She picked up a piece of cardboard from a chair next to her and held it aloft. “It was presumably intended to remain there for the entire day but ended up being dislodged when Goldie opened the patio door. Therefore, we have no footage of the culprit or culprits.”

  “Officers Moss and Diaz are the first people I’d want to question,” Zeke said. “They had the time to tamper with the air-conditioning and the CCTV and the opportunity to go into the garage to find a dummy to use as a decoy. It has to be one of them.”

  Christina nodded. “I agree, but they did such a great job today that I’m not sure I can put them on the list of suspects.” She restarted the footage, using the remote to fast-forward. “Here you can see Officer Diaz hauling himself over the barbed wire to try to locate the shooter in the hills. He wisely strapped on a bulletproof vest from his patrol car beforehand.” She fast-forwarded again. “And here you can see Officer Moss shielding Goldie with the portable ballistics shield from the panic room, which I have to say was an excellent idea and I’ll be putting him forward for a commendation.”

  Goldie held up a hand. “Actually, that was Zeke’s idea, ma’am.”

  Zeke silenced her with a quick shake of the head.

  “What?” she argued. “It was your idea.”

  “Officer Diaz left the scene,” Garth said incredulously. “How does that make him a hero?”

  “As I already explained, Diaz went in search of the shooter, hoping to root him out at the source. The SWAT team we sent to scour the hills discovered that Diaz had already captured the sniper a few minutes previously. So we have our bad guy in custody thanks to Officer Diaz’s quick thinking and bravery. And Goldie is alive thanks to Officer Moss’s ingenuity.” Christina smiled. “Although it looks like he might’ve had a helping hand from Agent Miller. Well done, Zeke. Using the ballistics shield was a great idea.”

  “Who’s the shooter?” Goldie asked, wondering if she really wanted to know the name of the person who wanted her dead.

  “His name is Marty Foster and he’s a former staff sergeant in the Marine Corps. He was something of a legend in the military because of his sharpshooting ability, but he built up quite a poor disciplinary record toward the end of his career. He was bitter about not rising further up the ranks and accused his superiors of jealousy. He was eventually discharged and subsequently served time for armed robbery.”

  “He sounds like a piece of work,” Zeke said, reaching out to hold Goldie’s hand, presumably to let her know that she wasn’t alone. She shifted away, her guard still just about strong enough to repel his kindness. “Has he given any indications about who might’ve assisted him today?”

  “He’s saying nothing,” Christina said. “And I mean nothing. We managed to identify him through his fingerprints, but he wouldn’t even confirm his name when asked.”

  “But he’s not acting alone, right?” Zeke said. “Someone probably hired him to kill Goldie and told him exactly when to target her.”

  “It seems like he’s working with an insider to share the two-million-dollar reward.” Christina looked squarely at Goldie. “Goldie can’t stay here any longer. She’s been compromised.”

  Garth shook his head in disagreement. “I spoke to my most trusted informant this morning, and he told me that Goldie was reported to have been spotted in Santa Fe by a pickpocket. It was probably just a woman who looked like her, but it was enough to get all the bounty hunters converging on the city. They’re convinced she’s in New Mexico. This Marty Foster guy would appear to be the only person who’s got access to inside information, and now that he’s in custody Goldie should be safe again.”

  “Our inside informer will almost certainly find another bad guy to fill Marty’s shoes,” Christina said. “Goldie will never be safe here. She has to leave.”

  “The question we desperately need to answer,” Karl said, entering the conversation, “is how did Foster find out Goldie was here? Who is our informer?”

  “Let’s look at the evidence,” Christina replied. “In our quest to find out as much about this ex-marine as possible, we came across one very interesting piece of information. Three years ago, just after he got out of prison, Foster was arrested for a home invasion and he successfully fought the charge in court. His slippery lawyer managed to get the charges dismissed.”

  Zeke gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed, taking a likely guess. “The lawyer was Willy Murphy?”

  Christina pointed at him. “Bingo.”

  “Well, that sure is interesting,” Goldie said with a slow nod. “There’s a proven link between my attacker and Mrs. Volto’s lawyer.”

  “We have to consider the possibility that this is simply a coincidence,” Christina said. “Willy Murphy is one of the most successful lawyers in Philadelphia, so it’s not unusual for a criminal like Foster to be associated with him. Their connection may be entirely innocent.”

  “Or it may be a sign that Willy is hoping to pocket that two-million-dollar reward,” Zeke said. “We need to interview him.”

  Christina’s expression was doubtful. “What we have is entirely circumstantial. Willy would tear us apart if we implied he was involved in criminal activity without solid evidence to back it up. He’d probably sue the Bureau for tarnishing his reputation. Let’s keep this under our hats for now but be extra vig
ilant. Whoever covered the CCTV camera, tampered with the air-conditioning and put the dummy in the pool knows the house well and was able to cover his tracks. He was also able to access the garage with a key, so that means he could have a close link to Mrs. Volto. But Willy was at court today so that rules him out. If you see anyone acting suspiciously, report it, no matter who it is.” She suddenly raised her chin toward a vent and closed her eyes. “Ahh, I think I feel the air-conditioning beginning to work. I’ll be taking a moment to enjoy this.” She waved a hand through the air. “Talk among yourselves for a little while.”

  Goldie looked across at Zeke, her mind full of worries about who she could trust in this law enforcement team. If Willy was selling her out, should she warn Mrs. Volto? A man prepared to betray a woman for two million dollars surely couldn’t be trusted around a baby.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Zeke whispered, while Karl and Garth held a deep and serious conversation next to him. “You’ll be fine.”

  “How can you say that?” Her stomach was in knots. “Nothing is fine.”

  “Remember what I said earlier about putting in more effort to help you?” he said. “Well, I’d like to make good on that promise. I’d like to be assigned to your next safe house.”

  “Really?” She was shocked. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course. You need good friends in your life, Goldie, people who’ll help you figure out a way to build up your self-esteem.” He smiled. “I want to be one of those people. I’d like to help you find your faith again without being patronizing or flippant, because it’s a long road ahead, right?”

  Did he have any idea exactly how long the road was? Goldie wondered. She would likely never leave the Witness Protection Program. She’d be in it for the rest of her life.

  “My life is about to be turned on its head,” she said. “I’ll never go back to my home in Philly, or back to the office, or back to my job. It’s nice that you want to help me, Zeke, but you have a life of your own to go back to in New York.”