by Soraya Naomi
“Thanks, Doctor.”
I scoot back down in the bed to wait for Luca, but it’s not he who enters my room next. It’s Detective Wade with a repentant flicker in his eyes.
“Detective—”
He shakes his head. “Don’t say anything. You’ve been released from the hospital. I’m here to take you into custody.”
I sit up instantly. “Why?”
“Kelli Ann Collopy was found dead last night.” He studies my reaction. “You were the last person she called, and you were attacked yesterday. This is pretty odd, Fallon.”
Shit! If only the doctor hadn’t released me yet!
She was killed last night? By whom? Oh my god, please don’t let me have trusted the wrong person again – since I really have a talent for that. Luca wouldn’t lie; he already made the threat that she would pay, so he wouldn’t lie to me if he’d already killed her. Would he? No, and Luca is too smart to kill her and let it lead to me.
Wade holds out a pair of handcuffs. “Come on.”
“Is that necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Climbing out of bed, my sore body protests as I turn my back to him. At least I was already dressed in my grey sweatpants and long-sleeve cotton shirt.
My arms are pulled back, and the cold metal is locked around my wrists. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”
“Yes.” My trembling lips relay my anxiety.
Wade’s fingers curl around my arm, and he picks up my bag to head out.
I’m searching desperately for Dr. Calderone while we step through the quiet hallway of the hospital, but I don’t spot him.
I’m an official suspect in a murder case.
***
In the interrogation room, which is dark except for a single bright, white light that’s pointed directly at me, Wade sits across from me after handing me a cup of black tea. I’m thankful that he took off the cuffs as soon as we entered this depressing, small room.
My head is pounding in nervousness, my nose is aching, and I’m completely wound up because I don’t know what to reveal.
Wade points to the mirror over my shoulder. “There’s no one behind that. We’re alone.” He brings his ugly purple mug to his lips. “Look, I know more is going on here than what we all seem to be thinking. I know Kelli was a crooked cop. And I think you knew it too. I don’t believe you had anything to do with her death, just as I don’t believe you had anything to do with Alex’s death. But she was a cop nonetheless, and therefore, this case has been given high priority. There was an anonymous caller that gave us your name, and a tiny fragment of your DNA was found under Collopy’s fingernail. This all gives you motive, Fallon. Your name keeps popping up, so I’ve been digging a little deeper into your recent past.”
I stay quiet because I’m in way over my head, and I blink back the gathering moisture. I’m clueless as to what’s going on in my own life, and the tears gush out as my walls instantly break down.
Wade’s eyes round, and he stands to hand me some tissues. “Talk to me, Fallon. I’m in your corner. I’m one of the few good ones in this entire precinct, and I know how many are paid off by the Chicago Syndicate. I’m just lacking any tangible evidence. And I also know you’re somehow connected to the Syndicate.”
I press my hand to my forehead as if I can hold the pieces of my shattered mind together.
Where the hell is Luca?
CHAPTER 17
Luca
I slide into Adriano’s car to visit Security Simplicity – since it’s Saturday, the place will be deserted, so we can work quietly from the office.
“Doc took Fallon as a patient last night, and I talked to her right before I left the house. She’s cooperating because she doesn’t have a clue what to do herself.” I pause before I disclose, “I won’t be able to keep my distance anymore. She actually listened to my orders on the phone.”
The corner of Adriano’s lip lifts slightly. “You’re just getting a hard dick because she’s obeying you.”
I grin at him. “I’m glad she’s finally opened up to me. She tends to anchor onto her initial impression of a situation and has such a hard time forming a new one, but I have faith that we’re at a turning point.”
A turning point I didn’t think would come; that’s why I left with Brenda. But after speaking with Fallon this morning, I was pleasantly surprised at how cooperative she was and how much trust she was putting in me.
“Even after all these months, the need to protect her hasn’t diminished,” I add. “It’s only intensified, and seeing her hurt makes me want to kill someone. After work, I’m off to the hospital.”
Shaking his head, Adriano switches lanes and maneuvers through traffic easily. “You can’t. We have to attend the Conversion Gala.”
“Gala?” I hate those events with all the pretentious wealthy people. I try to avoid them whenever possible.
“Seriously, do you ever read the e-mails our directors send us?”
I laugh. “No, I have you for that.”
“Fuck you!” Adriano throws back. “I’m not going alone.”
“Did I just completely forget?”
“Apparently, because I did inform you weeks ago. The company has run a successful conversion program for a bank where they converted historic data from one administrative system to another new system – the new system for which we built the security software. The gala is huge; our directors are giving a speech, and we need to attend because we haven’t shown our faces at a public event in a long time.”
Bringing my fist to my mouth, I cough before agreeing. “True...Fuck! I was planning to go to Fallon right after we were finished at the office. Why the hell’s it called a gala anyway?”
“I don’t know. They want to be fancy?” He chuckles loudly.
“Enough about the gala. Tell me you’re close to finding Collopy.”
“We’re not, but two teams are looking for her. She can’t be far.”
“I expect our best soldiers to be on this until she’s found,” I demand.
“They’ve been instructed.” He checks his rearview mirror and turns the steering wheel. “By the way, how do you feel? Doc seemed pretty worried about the waterboarding incident last night.”
“I feel as normal as every other day, only my throat is a little sore. I’m used to having bruises anyway.”
In our Syndicate life, we’ve had broken bones, lacerations, bruises, and even a few bullet wounds, but it’s of utter importance to hide it from the outside world. And an entrepreneur in an expensive, clean-cut suit is the most perfect, yet simplest, disguise. Our society likes to label people, put everyone in a tidy box. Looks can create an entire identity; it’s what the entertainment industry is built on, and it’s what the Syndicate has adopted.
“I forgot to tell you that the man holding the watering can slipped up because I noticed a pendant hanging slightly off his black collar,” I say. “The pendant was a silver cross with a red stone in the middle that I also saw at Club 7 when we were in the fight club. Unfortunately, I didn’t see the man’s face. I just distinctly remember seeing the pendant hanging out of his pocket in the club. And the pendants are pretty common – I researched it.”
Adriano shudders dramatically. “That place gave me the fucking creeps.”
“But we need to go back to that club.”
Adriano groans, not hiding his discontent in the least.
“My capture and Fallon’s attack are too coincidental, and the pendant could be a dead lead, but we need to exclude it first. It fucking irks me that when it comes to her, I’m always chasing after the facts, and now she’s the victim. First, I want Collopy found, and second, I want to know who captured me. You and I will focus on finding the men who took me while the soldiers hunt for Collo
py.”
***
Abandoning the file I’ve been studying on Collopy, I lean my face into my hands and decide to call Fallon, but I’m informed by the doctor that she’s asleep.
I glance over my screen at Adriano, who’s typing away hurriedly behind his laptop and ask, “Do you know Detective Richard Wade?”
Wade’s one of the few cops not on our payroll; he’s clean. But he’s shown too much interest in Fallon, and that worries me immensely.
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” he replies without looking up.
I cock my head sideways. “What are you doing?”
His gaze snaps to mine and back down.
“Are you still searching for Cam?” I ask.
He ceases typing and raises one brow.
“I knew it. It’s understandable that you’d want to find her. Did you?”
Bracing his neck with two hands, he answers, “She’s disappeared – not a trace of her anywhere.”
I wonder whether Adriano has genuine, deep feelings for Cam. “Did you ever bind Cam into silence?”
Usually, only Syndicate members are bound into silence by committing murder; therefore, they can never break the code of silence and secrecy without facing murder charges. We were supposed to bind Fallon and Cam into silence in a more lenient way, so I told Fallon she was connected to the crimes we committed in the parish, but at that moment, she was too shocked to even comprehend what I was implying.
“Did you bind Fallon into silence?” he retorts.
“No, I didn’t see the point. She thinks I did though and that she can somehow get into trouble over the shooting at the Parish of the Blessed.”
“Before I could figure out a way to do it, Cam was already missing,” he clarifies.
“Don’t let James or anyone else know that you’re still looking for her,” I warn.
“I won’t,” he responds and changes the topic hurriedly. “So the building you were held at yesterday is owned by”—he moves closer to his screen—“an unpronounceable Russian name.”
Getting up, I stand beside his chair. “Let me see.” The name is unfamiliar. “Let Henry cross reference the name through his system. Did he already check the camera feed of the parking garage and the industrial area to see if the license number of the van might be on it? I do believe there’s a connection between Club 7, Collopy, and my capture last night.”
The men who captured me probably had the cameras from the parking garage disabled, but I want Henry to check it nonetheless.
“He’s on it as we speak,” Adriano confirms and pulls his phone out of his pocket to answer a call. “Henry,” he greets and looks at me.
Returning behind my desk, I contemplate how to get out of the gala function but come up blank because it’s imperative to show our faces at these public events once in a while.
Adriano puts his phone on speaker so that Henry can update me.
“Luca, I don’t think this was pre-meditated because the cameras weren’t disabled in the parking lot, or they’re really stupid to have forgotten.”
“They’re stupid,” Adriano remarks before Henry continues.
“It was a black van you were taken in. License is registered to a Justin Belfort. Criminal record consists of misdemeanors and DUIs. And he’s a registered offender.”
“Anything else?” I ask.
“No, he’s a small-timer. I tracked him down in no time.”
“Text me where we can find him, Henry. Thanks.”
“Will do. Later.”
Adriano eases back in his chair as my phone alerts me of Henry’s incoming message. This guy is fast; I’m quite pleased with him.
“Get Justin Belfort to the warehouse today,” I instruct. “We’re going to have a chat with him.”
“I’ll have two soldiers bring him in,” Adriano answers with a playful salute.
***
Around dinnertime, I receive confirmation that my soldier has captured Justin Belfort, and Adriano and I drive up north to the warehouse where Damian meets us.
Entering the enormous brown-brick space of the warehouse, we turn right toward the private rooms just as Damian is exiting the third room.
“Any trouble?” I ask.
Damian shakes his head in denial. “He was found easily, and I drugged him, but he’s conscious now.”
Adriano orders Damian, “Stay at the door. Where’s the second soldier?”
“He had a money pick-up in Lake Forest.”
“He needs to come back here when he’s finished,” Adriano commands. “I need two soldiers to clean up when we’re done.”
Damian nods in understanding as we proceed to the room where Justin is blindfolded and strapped on his back, spread-eagle, on a metal table. His head jerks to the sound of the door when I let it fall closed, and Adriano silently moves to him, bringing his mouth close to his ear.
“Boo!” Adriano screams, and Justin startles and yanks at his chains.
His panicked voice thunders between the brown walls. “Where am I? Who are you? You motherfucker, let me go!”
I remove my suit jacket and roll up my sleeves slowly, letting him brood in distress while I prepare to get even for him waterboarding me last night. The soles of my shoes echo off the dirty concrete floor.
Every one of the private rooms is equipped with diverse tools, neatly stacked in a drawer in the corner. Without speaking, I take out the cutting tool with the sharpest blade and press the point of the knife lightly against the pad of my forefinger, testing the sharpness. Then I cut two pieces of duct tape with a pair of scissors.
Towering above him at his head, I make my presence known. “Justin Belfort.”
Adriano takes up position at Justin’s feet after taking his gun from its holster, arms tucked behind his back.
Justin sways his head anxiously from left to right. “Who the fuck are you?”
I slide the blindfold onto his forehead, and in a quick move, tape his eyelashes against his brows so his eyelids can’t close.
“What the fuck...” His watery blue eyes strain to focus.
Digging my fingers into his cheeks to still his head, I bend down so that he sees me up close, upside down. From behind me, I grip the handle of the knife with my left hand and show him the blade.
“Hello there; I’m the person you so generously waterboarded yesterday,” I state in a low voice.
The veins in his eyes are becoming darker and clearer as he desperately tries to close them, rattling in his chains and spitting while he protests, “Wh-What?”
Fucker! Not so tough now.
“Why did you take me?” I demand to know.
“I-I don’t know—”
Before he gets a chance to deny everything, I bring the point of my knife close to his left eye and graze it over the slime of his eyeball while holding a fierce grip on his cheeks. He screams out in agony, but I haven’t cut him.
“I’m not a patient man. One question, one answer. For every denial, I’m going to press deeper,” I warn while starting to sweat from steadying the knife in my hand so close to his eyeball.
My patience is already wearing thin because Fallon’s hurt, and I don’t know why. I can smell his fear, which spurs me on.
“Why me?” I inch the knife away slightly.
Justin blows out an unsteady breath of relief. “Because he wanted to know what your connection to Michaels is.”
I continue hurriedly, “Who is he?”
“Ashton.”
“Ashton who?”
“Ashton Banks,” he reveals. “My eyes burn...argh.”
Covering my hand over his mouth, I look up to Adriano, who clearly does recognize the name, but I have no clue who Ashton is. “Banks?”
Adriano answers, “Alex.”
I frown and focus back on Justin, pressing the flat side of the blade right under the skin of his left eye and slicing it open. Blood trickles down the side of his face.
“Fucking shit!” he yells, tugging and pulling the chains ince
ssantly. His screams resound loudly through the bleak room.
“What does he want with her? Speak quickly,” I order in a louder tone.
“He wants her to pay for Alex’s death.”
“Why does he think she’s responsible?”
“Alex left him a note before he died,” he replies through uncontrolled breaths.
Collopy’s note is stirring up all kinds of shit! “Why take me last night?”
“We wanted to know if you might be the person pulling the strings in the investigation,” he answers.
And he inhales without elaborating, so I press the blade harder against the edge of his eye, cutting deeper into his skin, almost wounding his eyeball. More red lines dribble from his eyes.
“STOP! Arghhhh... He-He doesn’t understand how she’s getting away with it. Her police file keeps changing.”
That is my doing. I didn’t make the note disappear in the beginning because of my resentment toward Fallon, so I told Adriano to do nothing until she came to me for help. However, I did tamper with the investigation just to throw the detective off.
“Did you follow Fallon for Ashton?”
“Yes, but sometimes he stalked her himself.”
“Did you spike her drink at Cocktails & Heels?”
“Yes,” he confirms.
“And you two were following her last night to the coffee shop and then followed me after she and I parted?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s Ashton now?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Don’t you dare deny!” I told him I would fucking cut his eye out if he starts with denials.
“I-I swear I don’t. After last night, I was told to stay away from him.”
“Who the hell are you to him?” Adriano asks.
“No one. He doesn’t tell me what’s going on. He gives me a job, and I do it.”
Standing back, I release my grip on Justin as Adriano points his weapon at his chest and pulls the trigger. Three bullets to end Justin’s life.
I gesture to Adriano to move out because we have that damn gala before I can see Fallon.
“It was staring us right in the face,” I grind out. “So much could’ve been prevented! Fuck! I thought you looked into Alex’s family? Who the fuck is Ashton Banks?”
