Storm's Cage

by Mary Stone

  The more times Amelia recited the explanation, the more official her story sounded.

  She had to remind herself that she wasn’t lying. If the Leónes were involved in Ian Strausbaugh’s murder, the case would go straight into the Bureau’s mounting RICO investigation.

  One of Natasha’s eyebrows quirked up. “Leóne involvement? The prime suspect right now is a D’Amato lieutenant.”

  Amelia reined in her expression, not wanting to give away her knowledge. “You’re a damn good detective, so you have to have realized that more than a few parts of the Strausbaugh case don’t make any damn sense, right?”

  With a half-laugh, half-snort, Natasha punched a code into a keypad next to one of the precinct’s side doors. “Okay, you might be right there.” Propping the heavy door open with a shoulder, she slid to the side to make room for Amelia to enter. “Well, come on in, then. We’ve actually got Badoni and his lawyer heading over here in a bit to go over everything one more time before the case goes to the grand jury.”

  “Wow, finally a little good luck.” The words slipped from Amelia’s mouth before she could stop herself.

  Natasha’s chuckle turned into a laugh. “Send a little of that luck my way when you’re done with it.” She beckoned Amelia to follow her down a dim corridor. “My partner doesn’t usually get here for another hour. Only reason I’m here this early is because Badoni and his lawyer are due in at about eight, and I wanted a chance to go through all my notes beforehand.”

  As they came to a stop in front of an elevator, Amelia held up the manila folder. “I’ve looked through everything that’s been logged digitally, but I’d love to hear your take on it. Especially since it sounds like you were having the same doubts I had when I looked it over.”

  Natasha elbowed a button, and a green up-arrow glowed to life. “It’s just…my partner and I have interviewed Badoni a few times now, and the guy seems, well…smart. He’s articulate, and other than a few DUIs, his record is spotless. I’m having a hell of a time understanding why he’d fly off the handle and kill a homicide detective with his own registered handgun, you know?”

  “What’s your theory?” The stainless-steel doors slid open, and Amelia followed the detective into the empty car.

  Natasha winced as she shook her head. “We don’t have much of one right now, unfortunately. Like I said, Badoni’s record is clean, so there’s nothing in his background that makes me think he’d be targeted. Nothing other than the Portelli case, but that’s been a done deal for three years.” Her brows creased as she turned to Amelia. “You don’t think the Leónes would kill a cop just to frame a guy who shot one of their people in self-defense three years ago, do you?”

  “I’m not ruling it out.” Hoping her poker face would be convincing, Amelia added a noncommittal shrug for good measure. “It does sound ridiculous, but maybe there’s something we’re missing. Some other beef the Leónes had with Gabriel Badoni. Or maybe it’s not an issue with Badoni, but with Badoni’s commander.”

  Natasha readjusted her handbag as they closed in on the third floor. “That’s true. Detective Yoell and I thought that might be the case, but we don’t know much about the guy Badoni reported to.” She glanced at Amelia. “I don’t suppose you know a little about him?”

  Making a derisive sound, Amelia shook her head in feigned defeat. “No. Probably not any more than you do. The D’Amatos don’t get a lot of attention at the Bureau. You know, because they don’t leave bodies across the city.” She finished with a friendly chuckle to play off her attempt at deflection.

  At least half of her statement was true. The D’Amatos hadn’t been high on the Bureau’s to-do list for years.

  With a cheery ding, the silver doors slid open, revealing a short hall. Amelia and Natasha made their way to an open area filled with desks in various states of organization—the heart of the homicide department. Another couple halls branched off the other side of the room, and she assumed the corridors led to interview rooms and holding cells.

  Amelia wasn’t surprised to learn that Natasha’s desk was one of the neat ones. The detective pulled over a mesh-backed office chair and motioned for Amelia to sit.

  Once Natasha had retrieved a steaming mug of coffee from the breakroom, she returned to walk Amelia through the Strausbaugh case.

  Most of the information wasn’t new. Strausbaugh’s body had been found by his stepdaughter, and the medical examiner put Ian’s time of death at approximately one in the morning. All of Ian’s immediate family were ruled out right away due to their alibis.

  In fact, as Detective Reyman went on, Amelia realized that Gabriel Badoni was the only suspect they’d truly investigated. Aside from the ballistics evidence, no clues were left at the scene.

  It all sounded cut-and-dried until Natasha explained where she and Detective Yoell had found the murder weapon.

  “Hold on a second.” Amelia didn’t try to hide her look of pure incredulousness. “The gun was in a neighbor’s trash bin?”

  Natasha brought up the photo of the nine-mil on her computer screen. “Yeah. Two houses down. Glad we got there before trash pickup. We’d already ruled out the owners of that house, so we’ve got no reason to think they were involved.”

  What the hell?

  Amelia scrutinized the picture of the weapon. Maybe if she glared hard enough, the Glock would say something.

  As Natasha opened her mouth to elaborate, she jerked her head to the side, toward the shadow of an approaching man. “Oh. Good morning, Detective. I didn’t expect you’d be here so early.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Amelia swiveled to face the newcomer.

  Right away, she connected the familiar blue eyes and wavy, sandy brown hair to an image she’d seen more than a hundred times in her research the night before. Hell, she’d even seen a shirtless photo of the tall man. He’d been jumped by a pair of meth heads out in East Garfield Park, and the crime scene techs had taken pictures of his injuries when he’d been treated at a nearby hospital. Later on, the prosecutor had used pictures of the nasty welts and bruises to seek a harsher penalty since the assailants had used brass knuckles.

  Cliff Allworth’s eyes flicked from Natasha to Amelia and back. “Good morning.” He tilted his chin at Amelia. “Who’s here to visit us so early in the day?”

  Amelia pushed to her feet and extended a hand. “I’m Special Agent Storm with the FBI. You were Ian Strausbaugh’s partner, is that correct?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his expression tightened as he accepted her handshake. “Yeah. For almost ten years.”

  Amelia straightened the front of her black button-down shirt. “I’m sorry for your loss, Detective Allworth. I can’t imagine how difficult that must be for you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is the FBI doing investigating my partner’s case, if you don’t mind my asking? Unless you can’t talk about it. That wouldn’t be a first.”

  Blinking at the abrupt and hostile transition, Amelia shook her head. Though she, personally, had never talked down to a city cop during a case, she still had to reap the fruits of those who’d come before her.

  But just because she took an amiable approach to her interactions with the CPD didn’t mean she turned into a doormat for pissed-off cops.

  “I’m sorry, Detective.” Her snide tone was enough to assure the man that she wasn’t actually apologizing. “That’s not information I’m cleared to discuss with you. Might I ask you what in the hell you think you’re doing trying to work your own partner’s murder?”

  With an indignant huff, he shook his head. “I’m not working Ian’s murder. I’m here to ask Detective Reyman about her investigation into Ian’s case. Unless that’s something you Feds don’t allow anymore?”

  Amelia narrowed her gaze on the aggressive detective, refusing to be baited and reply to his rudeness.

  “Okay, Detective.” Natasha made the universal sign for time-out with her hands. “There haven’t been any developments, but we can t
alk later, okay? Gabriel Badoni and his lawyer will be here any minute for one last interview before the grand jury trial tomorrow.”

  The detective’s gaze shifted to Natasha, and some of his tension vanished. His nod was slow and mechanical as he took a step back. “Okay. Thank you, Detective Reyman.”

  Without so much as a sideways glance at Amelia, he turned around and took off toward the breakroom.

  Though Amelia wanted to make a comment about Allworth’s rude behavior, she swallowed the words and returned to her seat.

  Rubbing her forehead, Natasha let out a quiet breath as she dropped into her chair. “I’m sorry. A lot of the detectives that have been in the department for a long time are…well, they aren’t fans of the FBI or any of the federal agencies.”

  Amelia waved away the apology. “It’s fine. I have something to ask you, though. Something I was about to ask before Detective Allworth showed up.”

  Natasha stretched her legs beneath the desk. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “When Badoni and his lawyer get here, do you mind if I have a few words with them?” Amelia glanced to a security camera for emphasis. “Alone, preferably. And off-camera.”

  Natasha pushed the computer mouse to keep the monitor from going dark. “Of course. Contrary to what you saw from my colleague,” she gestured to the breakroom for emphasis, “we’re always happy to cooperate with the FBI. I figured an interview with Badoni was part of why you were here, anyway.”

  Amelia chuckled. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Scooting closer to the keyboard, Natasha minimized the images of the Glock. “We’ve got a little time before he gets here, so let’s go through the case again. Maybe I can pick your brain about it a bit.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Gabriel Badoni and his lawyer, Elana Haviv, didn’t arrive at the precinct until closer to nine. Amelia sat with Natasha and her partner during most of that time, but she didn’t broach any new theories with them.

  With all the oddities and the holes in the current story, Amelia was certain the Leónes were responsible for Ian Strausbaugh’s murder. Chances were, the detective had been on their payroll, and he’d crossed a line better left untouched. Maybe he’d slept with the boss’s wife, talked smack to the wrong person, or overextended his reach.

  If anyone knew the reason, it was Ian’s partner, Detective Cliff Allworth.

  Once she’d had time to process her initial interaction with him, Amelia was sure his hostility ran deeper than just a few negative encounters with FBI agents over the years. If she had been a dirty cop, she wouldn’t be keen on the Feds either.

  In fact, the longer she sat there, in the middle of the precinct’s fourth floor, the more certain she became that this place was a hotbed for Leóne activity. As someone who was loosely affiliated with the D’Amato family, she was technically behind enemy lines and needed to leave as soon as possible.

  When Natasha and Floyd’s sergeant swung by to tell them that Gabriel was waiting in an interview room, Amelia barely stopped herself from leaping to her feet like a fan whose team had just scored a goal. Pushing down her enthusiasm, she followed the detectives to a hallway and then to the last door in line.

  Floyd’s pale eyes flicked from the heavy door to Amelia before he rubbed his hands together. “Okay. Cameras are turned off, and there are no mirrors in this room. How long do you suppose this’ll take?”

  Amelia painted a thoughtful look on her face and rubbed her cheek. “I’m not sure. Shouldn’t be too long, though. I just need to ask him a few questions to see if this is something that’s in line with our investigation over at the Bureau.”

  Natasha stepped over to a wooden bench. “Take all the time you need, Agent. We’ll be here if you need us.”

  Even as Amelia’s heart thudded against her chest, she steadied her breath and turned to the windowless door.

  The time she’d waited for Gabriel to show up had been useful to hone a strategy, at least. Elana Haviv was a mob lawyer, but even so, Amelia preferred to keep the fact that she was here at Alex Passarelli’s request a secret.

  That meant she couldn’t barge in and tell Gabriel that his capo needed him to pull his head out of his ass before sharing his new alibi with him.

  But it didn’t mean she had to be diplomatic. She was fine with coming across unhinged, so long as neither Elana nor Gabriel realized the real reason she was here.

  Pressing down on the cool metal lever, Amelia shoved the wooden door inward with her shoulder.

  Gabriel froze mid-sentence as his dark green eyes shifted to face Amelia. “Who are you?”

  Amelia shot him a flat look as she waited for the door to latch.

  Without speaking, she strode to the corner of the small room, pulled over a chair, and stepped up on top of the seat. Ignoring the way her stomach flip-flopped as she balanced on the rickety perch, Amelia tilted the digital video camera down to check the power. She pulled a couple cables loose for good measure.

  As she hopped back to the tiled floor, she ignored the incredulous stares of Gabriel and his lawyer. Brushing off the front of her shirt, she scooted the chair back to the table and took a seat.

  “To answer your question, Mr. Badoni, I’m Special Agent Amelia Storm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

  Gabriel’s gaze shifted between his lawyer, Elana, and Amelia.

  Clearing her throat, the lawyer pushed a piece of caramel-tipped hair over her shoulder and folded her hands. “I’m sorry, Agent. When did this case come under federal jurisdiction?”

  Amelia forced herself to rein in her shit-eating grin as she glared at the lawyer. “It’s not.”

  The woman opened and closed her mouth before she shook her head. “I’m sorry. If it’s not under federal jurisdiction, then why are you here instead of the Chicago Police Department?”

  Amelia straightened her back. “Because I happen to be a specialist in the Leóne family, and I think that’s who killed Ian Strausbaugh.” She pointed to Gabriel. “Not your client. I’m certain your client is innocent.”

  A crease formed in the center of Elana’s forehead. “Then why are we scheduled for a grand jury hearing tomorrow?”

  “Because there’s physical evidence that supposedly ties your client to Detective Strausbaugh’s murder. And because…” Amelia pinned Gabriel with a withering stare. “Your client is lying to the CPD about his alibi.”

  Gabriel opened his mouth to reply, but Elana cut him off with an upraised hand. “What exactly makes you think that my client is lying about his alibi? Mr. Badoni was at home with his wife all night. Mrs. Badoni has already confirmed this.”

  “No, he wasn’t.” Amelia’s matter-of-fact tone was so final, she might as well have just told them the solution to a math problem. Before either of the two could interject, she laced her fingers together and continued. “Your client has three DUIs, and he hasn’t ever applied for a restricted driver’s license after receiving the last citation. Is that correct, Mr. Badoni?”

  Blinking in confusion, Gabriel nodded. “That’s correct.”

  Amelia speared him with a look that dared him to try to lie to her. “So, you don’t drive then, correct?”

  Another nod. “Right.”

  “Okay, good. I’m glad we got that out of the way.” She leaned forward, her eyes still locked on Gabriel’s. “Now, I happen to be privy to a little piece of information that’s going to make the difference between you walking away from this or you going to prison for the rest of your life. I know where you were on the night that Ian Strausbaugh was murdered.”

  Badoni gulped as his eyes grew wider, but he was quick to temper the surprise. “I don’t know what—”

  Amelia brought an open hand down on the laminate table with a resounding smack.

  As Elana and Gabriel both jumped, Amelia leaned forward. “I’m talking right now, Mr. Badoni. I know where you were. You were overseeing an underground gambling match hosted every Monday night by the D’Amato family.”


  Gabriel looked absolutely terrified as he shook his head wildly. “You can’t prove that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. Not morally, not legally. I don’t care. What I do care about is that you’ve been lying to the CPD about it, and that’s what’s keeping them convinced that you killed Ian Strausbaugh. When, honestly, you and I both know you wouldn’t have been that sloppy if Alex Passarelli had ordered you to kill a cop, right?”

  When Gabriel’s eyes widened this time, the shock remained. “Who the hell are you?”

  Amelia waved a dismissive hand. “I already told you that. We’ve got the same goal here, okay? I don’t want you to go to prison for Strausbaugh’s murder because you didn’t do it, and I want to find the person who did.” She looked from Gabriel to his lawyer. “Now, are you ready to stop bullshitting me?”

  Elana’s nostrils flared as she turned her gaze to Gabriel.

  The man clenched his jaw. “Okay. Fine. I was downtown that night. I’m not going to tell you what I was doing—”

  “I already told you I don’t care.” Amelia crossed her arms. “But go ahead. How’d you get there? Did you take an Uber, or did you take the L?”

  Gabriel raised his shackled wrists to scratch the side of his nose. “The L. I left at about eight, right after dinner.”

  “Perfect.” Amelia flattened her hands on the table. “There are cameras everywhere at the L. And there are probably security cameras near the building you went to.”

  His face twisted into a mask of uncertainty. “I…I can’t tell them where I was. If I do, then…”

  The terror was back. This man knew exactly what would happen to him if he told the truth. Amelia almost felt sorry for him.

  “You don’t have to tell them why you were there, but yes, you do have to tell them that you were there. Make up something embarrassing. Say you were there for a swinger’s party or a furry convention.” She scoffed. “Move the next gambling match if you need to. If you don’t give these two detectives an alibi…a real one…then you’re going to go down for the premeditated murder of a police officer. The ballistics from your weapon, which was found near the scene, is all the jury needs to hand you life without parole. Are you following me? Picking up what I’m laying down?”