Lou scratched his head and replied, “the kind they sell in craft stores. Handmade and cheap, I guess.”
“Okay. Thanks, Lou. If you find anything else, let me know.”
“Sure, Lennie,” Lou replied as he headed out the door.
Alone once more, Lennie strolled to a window and looked out into the street. His mind was in overdrive. When Lou mentioned the Glock, his intuition prickled. The case of the missing guns from the armory in Louisiana was worth millions. It landed on his desk because of a tip that the cache somehow found its way to New York. He was working on it when the Chief called and said to drop the case. The order came directly from the Commissioner’s Office. When Lennie asked questions, the chief merely said it was no longer in their jurisdiction.
“What are the odds that a big-shot like Jimmy Torch would be murdered with a weapon from the missing cache? There had to be a deeper connection.” Lennie surmised.
Lennie knew he had very little to work with. A half-eaten sandwich in a wrapper and a backpack could be anything. “Or something,” he muttered.
He returned to his desk and consulted a map. When he found what he was looking for, he picked up the keys to his car and left the precinct.
Chapter 3
Watching the press conference on TV around Jimmy Torch’s murder only made Finn more anxious. All local channels broadcasted it live. Torch Sr., the father of the victim, was distraught even as he fielded questions from the media.
It was the question asked by one of the reporters that shocked Finn. Asked if he had any idea who wanted his son dead, Torch looked at the camera. The anger was apparent on his face.
“There is only one person I can think of who would do this. It’s Victor Saldana. We entered into a business deal. Things didn’t go as planned. I opted out so he took revenge on my son.”
The reporters scrambled closer as each one tried to get more information.
“What kind of business deal and why would he want your son dead?
“He wanted to exclusive rights to sell Harleys to the club. He knew I was trying to unite all the clubs in America under my leadership. After consulting with the different groups, we decided not to pursue it. Saldana was furious. Its revenge, pure and simple.”
One station flashed a photo of Victor Saldana. Finn thought it looked similar to the face she saw that night. But it was a grainy shot and she couldn’t be certain. After a few minutes, the live coverage was transported outside a building in Brooklyn. This was more chaotic. There were a few angry protesters on the street.
One of them was being interviewed by a reporter.
“Torch is an asshole,” the protester fumed. “Victor Saldana has done nothing but good for our community. Saldana has distributed money out of his own pocket to the poor areas, he created jobs that resulted in employment and set up community centers for the homeless. His heart is in the right place. What business is it of a criminal organization like the Hells Angels to accuse someone like that for murder? Saldana is a philanthropist. Torch is a piece of shit.”
Suddenly there was a mad scramble by the reporters. The camera panned to the entrance of the building. A group of men walked out the door and was soon engulfed by the mob. One of the men tried to restore order. He faced the camera and said, “Mr. Saldana will be making a brief statement. His lawyers advised him not to answer any other questions at this time.”
All cameras turned as the door opened a second time. A man in his late sixties strolled out and faced the camera. “I deny all accusations of Mr. Jimmy Torch Sr. I did not murder his son Torch Jr. I can only offer my condolences to him during this time of his grief. Sure I knew Jimmy. We’ve had some falling out in the past. But I had nothing to do with his murder.”
Finn did a double take. Her heart leaped into her mouth. Bile rose in her throat as she choked. She felt nauseous. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the table. Her apartment felt airless she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run and flee - away from the TV. It was as if Victor Saldana could see her right through the screen.
Finn staggered towards the door. She grabbed a sweater and was soon making her way out into the protection of a familiar neighborhood. There was no longer any doubt in her mind. The man denying the murder charge was the man she saw that night. She was absolutely certain it was him. As sure as the rosebud pinned to the lapel of his business suit.
The afternoon sun was shining brightly from above. Yet, Finn felt a chill go through her body as she pulled the sweater tightly around her. Her head swiveled to both sides of the street. She felt like a million eyes were watching her progress as she walked.
“I’m being paranoid,” she muttered.
Finn realized it was also her conscience that bothered her. With the identity of the shooter, the incident that night suddenly became more personal. She knew the victim by name.
“Jimmy Torch, Jr.” The name coursed through her brain branding itself into her psyche.
Her nervousness was more pronounced because now she knew the murderer.
“Victor Saldana.” Another name that stamped itself on her brain uninvited.
If the demonstrator was to be believed, Saldana was a supposed to be a good guy. Someone the community looked up to as a benefactor. But the sound the gun made as it sucked the life away from Torch Jr. kept replaying in her mind. Saldana was a ruthless killer wearing the cloak of a saint, Finn thought.
Finn shivered. She had no idea where she was headed as she turned a street corner. She had lived in this slice of the neighborhood for the last five years. She felt safe here. Except for today. Her ears had become more sensitive to the deafening traffic noise, the sirens wailing in the distance sounded louder, and it felt there was an enormous number of pedestrian traffic in the streets. No one seemed particularly interested in her, Finn thought. Pedestrians made their way to wherever destination they were headed.
Up ahead, a police car cruised the street as other cars gave it plenty of ditch room to maneuver. Finn gulped at the sight of it. Her whole being was possessed with an urge to flee. She panicked at the thought the police were there to arrest her. The patrol car passed by without coming to a stop. Finn breathed a sigh of relief.
“Stop it,” she mumbled angrily to herself. “No one even knows I was there last night.”
Finn tried to console herself. But she couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling. She looked all around her and saw nothing unusual. She crossed to the other side of the street intending to take a roundabout and head back home.
It was then that she noticed him. He must have been a few meters behind her before she crossed the street. She passed a store with a glass window display. Finn pretended interest in the display and watched his reflection in the glass. The man walked past from where she stood on the other side. She waited till he was a few meters ahead before proceeding to walk on her side of the street. The man suddenly stopped and waited for the light to change. He crossed the street and was now on her side of the pavement.
From where she stood a few meters away, Finn saw that his coat was almost to his knees. It wasn’t the scruffiness that caught her attention, but the bulges it had in several places. That only meant one thing. The guy had hidden weapons stashed inside his jacket.
Her heart beat fast as she pretended to search her pocket. Finn intended to double back and retrace her steps and avoid passing anywhere near him. As she turned, she caught a fleeting look of his face. He seemed edgy and nervous. There was a something ominous about the way he stared in her direction. Finn thought he was trying hard not to look at her but instead at something behind her. Everything about him made her wary and suspicious.
“It’s Victor Saldana’s boys coming to kill you. They know you were there,” a voice in her head warned.
Finn was suddenly a ball of adrenaline as she quickened her pace. She glanced behind her shoulder. The man was only a few feet away and from the quick steps, Finn knew without a doubt she was his quarry.
Finn was breathi
ng fast. She was no longer pretending to walk as she sprinted down the sidewalk. She heard the man’s footfall following her fast and going even faster. All sane thoughts fled her mind. All she wanted was to get as far away and as fast as her legs could muster.
Even before Finn could decide what to do next, she felt him hurtle and wrestle her to the ground. Finn’s breath was knocked out of her as she felt the weight of his body holding her down to the pavement. His arms pinned her as she struggled to break free.
Finn screamed, but her voice was lost in a hail of bullets coming from the window of a passing car. Suddenly, there was bedlam everywhere. From her position on the ground, the scene unfolded in slow motion, clear and defined. The air was filled with frightened yells as pedestrians sought to take cover. A mother walking her baby in a stroller screamed and shouted for help. Some ducked and dropped low to the ground. Drivers honked their horns loudly. A car caught in traffic stepped on the gas and ran into another car just ahead.
It all looked surreal, even as Finn realized she was going to die soon. Fate did a number on her when it spared her from being killed last night at the waterfront. But her number was up. She was certain the man on top of her wouldn’t miss his mark. She knew it was useless to struggle. Better to meet her maker in the most dignified way possible.
Then the man shouted in her ear. “I’m a cop, stay down,” he said in a voice that allowed no argument.
Chapter 4
“Are you hurt?” He asked.
Finn, dazed and confused, stared into a pair of penetrating brown eyes. The shots still reverberated loudly in her memory.
“Were you shot,” he asked again, searching her body for any signs of bleeding.
Her back hurt from being tackled and thrown to the ground. That was his fault. “N-no, I don’t think so,” she replied.
“We have to get out of here,” he retorted, scanning the street that was now in pandemonium.
He pulled her up, and taking her hand, sprinted down an alley with Finn in tow.
It occurred to Finn that he was a complete stranger although he said he was a cop.
“Where are we going,” she asked wheezing.
“As far away as possible. They might be back,” he replied.
He led her down circuitous backstreets, entered a neglected building where a hallway led to an open exit. They both emerged in another street where he and Finn sprinted across and headed for a squat edifice with a torn marquee. He looked around before pushing open heavy double doors and ushered her inside the dark interiors of an old cinema.
The smell of metal and rotting animal flesh was a choking aroma. Finn dropped to the filthy floor panting for breath. The man walked with steady steps to a nearby window with broken glass. He peered out and slowly removed a pistol from inside his jacket.
Finn saw the small movement. She crouched back against the wall and flinched.
“Don’t worry. I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Detective Lennie Palermo,” he said, pulling out a badge.
Finn was still shaken from the shooting incident. But the detective had an assuring presence that calmed her down a bit.
“Wh-what just happened out there?” She asked.
“Why don’t you tell me,” Lennie retorted. “You were obviously the target.”
Finn gasped in surprise. Lennie sat down beside her. From the weak light that filtered through the window, Finn saw splotches of red on his chin.
“You’re bleeding.” She sounded inane even to her own ears.
“It’s nothing. Probably from broken glass,” He replied, wiping a sleeve across his jawline.
Fin sensed the kinetic energy emanating from him as he rose and returned to the window. The gridlock from the shooting was making its presence felt in the street fronting the theater. Cars came to a standstill as roads up ahead were blocked. Sirens from police, fire trucks and ambulance wailed close by. A chopper flew low overhead making a sweep then disappeared into the distance.
“Miss Allen, I need to…”
“H-how do you even know my name?” Finn asked in utter confusion.
“I make it my business to know,” he barked. Then sensing that she was still in shock, he came near. “You work at the Greasy Spoon. You’re Finola Allen, right?”
“Finn.” It sounded silly giving him a nickname when she just barely made it alive today.
“Finn,” he said in a gentler voice,” I need to get you somewhere safe. I can’t bring you to the precinct. Not after…”
“Not after what?” Finn asked seeing the look on his face.
Lennie inhaled. “I got hold of police report this morning about a murder case. I was following a lead based on some evidence that was gathered at the crime scene. A sandwich wrapper from The Greasy Spoon and a backpack found near the escarpment. A waitress named Selma identified the backpack. She said it belonged to you.”
Finn gulped. She had totally forgotten leaving her backpack behind when she fled after the killing. Lennie watched her reaction then proceeded.
“It was yours. You were there,” he said gently.
Finn couldn’t reply. Her tongue was stuck to the back of her throat.
“Selma tried to answer some of my questions then she wondered why I was there since someone else came earlier asking about you.”
“Are you saying there are two of you working on the same case?” Finn stuttered.
Lennie shook his head. “I’m saying there’s a leak at the precinct. Someone higher up got hold of information even before I did.”
Finn’s brain was having difficulty processing the information.
“I know this is all confusing. But I can’t let you go back to your apartment. Whoever tried to kill you probably knows by now where you live. I can’t have you roaming the streets and I can’t bring you to the precinct until I’m sure you’ll be safe there too.”
“Oh my god,” Finn wailed suddenly feeling faint.
“I can put you in a safehouse but that would leave a paper trail when I ask for the key,” Lennie informed her. Then a sudden thought occurred, “I have a hunting cabin in Albany. It hasn’t been used in a long while. It’s untraceable property. I can bring you there in the meantime,” Lennie suggested.
“How do I know I can even trust you?” Finn argued.
“You don’t have very many options. But you’re still alive. I intend to keep it that way,” Lennie replied evenly.
Finn knew he was right. She’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for him. What choices did she have left?
“Okay,” she agreed, uncertain if she wasn’t getting herself into more shit than she already had.
Lennie wasn’t sure if he was making the right decision bringing her to the cabin. It was an instant decision, and his instincts had always served him well in the past.
When the other waitress at the diner mentioned that someone else had been there earlier, the hair on the back of his neck stood on ends. A brief call to the Chief proved him right. No one else was assigned the case except him. Whoever it was had access to information and moved quickly.
He called Lou back at the lab and asked him to run the name Finola Allen in the system. Five minutes later, he had a face to go with the name.
Finola Allen’s driver’s license indicated she was a 5’4’’, with curly red hair, green eyes, and freckles on her nose. She looked to be no more than her teens although her birth date revealed she was 24 years old.
Lennie drove to the address that Lou provided. He initially intended to do surveillance when he spotted her leaving the apartment. She looked nervous as she walked hurriedly down the street. From a distance, Lennie acknowledged she looked more attractive than the photo from the DMV.
Lennie shadowed her until he came to an empty parking space where he ditched his vehicle. His quarry didn’t look like she had a particular destination in mind. It was when she crossed the street that Lennie noticed another car with missing car plates. It was moving slowly. Years of training told him something was wrong wh
en he saw the glint of metal against the sunlight. He sprinted across the street to get to her and realized she had started running. That was when he saw the barrel of a gun from the car window pointed in her direction. Lennie tackled her to the ground as bullets wheezed directly above his head.
It didn’t take long for Lennie to make the connection. Somebody wanted the girl dead. And if she was a witness to the murder of Jimmy Torch, Lennie had to guarantee her safety, at any cost.
He glanced at his passenger as they left the city. Her eyes were wide and her breaths came in shallow pants. She was still experiencing shock. He couldn’t blame the girl. Lennie surmised she must be under a lot of stress since she witnessed the murder last night. He decided it was best to start questioning her after he got her settled at the cabin.
He reached out for the glove compartment. Finn flinched at the sudden movement.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I wanted to make sure I had the equipment I’ll need.”
Finn gave a tremulous smile while still keeping quiet.
“Are you hungry? We could pass by a drive-thru,” Lennie suggested.
Lennie hoped something as mundane as food would help her recover.
“Yes, please. That would be nice,” Finn replied.
Lennie was glad to see her looking so much better as she munched on a burger and fries. He ordered a tall glass of coke to go with the meal. She appeared famished as she downed the food before gulping the contents of the paper cup.
“Thank you,” she said, crumpling the paper cup and depositing it together with the sandwich wrapper into the brown paper bag.
Lennie realized it was the same habit of carefully disposition her trash that led him looking and eventually finding her.
In a few hours, Albany was in sight. There was an old-world charm to the colorfully painted turn of the century brownstones, the state capitol, and iconic plaza. He drove through the main streets and turned left before reaching the city limits. He followed a dirt road for a few miles with the Adirondack Mountains looming in the distance.
On Fire (Seduction Series Book 3) Page 11
