by Ali Vali
“Maybe if I’m persistent enough they’ll make an exception,” she said as she searched for the number. It took ten minutes before she was connected to an officer and he asked what she considered to be useless questions.
“Ma’am, we need to wait twenty-four hours, but what probably is going on here is your daughter decided to take the day off. My wife calls them mental health days.”
“She’d take one of those if her mother came over a thousand miles to see her?” she asked, wondering what kind of idiot this guy was. “It doesn’t matter, my daughter wouldn’t disappear for the day and not get in touch with me.”
“I have her license number and her information, and I’ll put that out. If she’s not home by tomorrow, we’ll take a more active approach. Did you call her work?”
“Yes, but I might head over there and talk to them,” she said, done wasting time.
“Ma’am, you should do that, but don’t be confrontational,” the officer said.
She hung up before she really got pissed. The cab took fifteen minutes, and double that to talk her way into the accounting department. “I need to see Dean Jasper,” Wilma said to the receptionist.
“Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked and when she faced Wilma, her eyes and nose were red.
“Are you okay?” Wilma asked. The woman, along with quite a few other people, appeared upset. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but one of our employees and her baby were found murdered this morning. The police just left.”
Wilma hung on to the counter to stay on her feet, and she closed her mouth to keep from screaming. “Who?” she asked, barely above a whisper, and she closed her eyes as a defense against the potential hard truth. “Who?” she asked louder.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, they told us not to talk about it.”
“My daughter and my grandson are missing, so tell me who it was.” Her voice rose, and had there not been a counter separating them, she would’ve struck the woman.
“Ma’am, can I help you?” a man said, coming out of an office.
“Should I call security, Mr. Jasper?” the receptionist asked.
He shook his head. “Ma’am, what can we do for you?”
“I’m Brinley Myers’s mother, and I want to know who the police came and talked to you about.”
“Wait, Brinley’s missing?” the receptionist asked. “Should we call the police to come back?”
“Is she?” Dean asked. “The police were here this morning, but it was about another employee, Naomi Williams.”
“She’s dead?” Wilma’s stomach felt like it’d filled with acid, and she fought the desire to vomit.
Dean took a deep breath and nodded. “The police aren’t sure what happened or why, but they found her and her daughter early this morning.” He motioned her toward his office and she followed him in a daze.
“We have to call the police and get them back here,” she said, sitting in Dean’s office. “It can’t be coincidence that Naomi’s dead and Brinley’s missing, along with her one-year-old.”
“Are you sure she didn’t hear about Naomi and take some time to clear her head?” Dean asked and she wanted to curse him for his stupidity.
“You may not have known Brinley long, but she’s not in a bar drowning her sorrows with her son along. If you don’t want to do it, give me the number and I’ll call.”
Dean took a card from his pocket and picked up his phone. “I hope you’re wrong, and she just took Finn to the park. Losing Naomi has devastated the office.” The conversation with the detective didn’t take long and Dean gently put his phone back on his desk as if he wanted to see any incoming messages. “They’re on their way back.”
“Where did they find her?” She was having trouble breathing and her head was pounding at the thought of a world that didn’t include Brinley and Finn. “Naomi and her daughter, I mean.”
“Outside of town in the desert. From what the police said, it was a fluke they were found this fast, but some hiker saw the fire and called 9-1-1.” Dean poured her some water and sat next to her. “I’m sure Brinley’s fine and she’ll call when she gets a chance.”
“You don’t think it strange that her work partner was killed and now she’s missing? I don’t think Brinley’s fine.” She stared at Dean as all the conversations about him she’d had with Brinley went through her head. Dean, who assigned her the audit, and who was meeting with some criminal for lunch.
“We’re going to do everything in our power to find her, ma’am. Brinley may be new to our organization, but she’s part of the Moroccan family. She was doing important work for us,” Dean said, clearly trying to sound empathetic. “Did she by chance have any files at home? She was so dedicated to her job—I’m sure she did.”
“You want them back now?” she asked incredulously. “If you want them, we’re going to have to find her. She left this morning with my grandson and a couple of boxes I assume were work she brought home.”
“She didn’t talk about her work with you?” Dean slightly cocked his head, like the conversation they were having wasn’t an inappropriate fishing expedition on his part. “Maybe something she said will clue us in as to where she is.”
“My daughter’s like me, Mr. Jasper, when it comes to her job. You can be assured she wasn’t discussing her duties with me or anyone else, and I couldn’t care less about that right now.”
“Mr. Jasper, the detectives are back,” the receptionist informed them.
Dean insisted on staying for moral support, and Wilma wanted to offer him a pen and notepad to take notes, he was listening so intently. She wasn’t about to say anything about the accounting issues in front of him, but she needed to find a way to tell the detectives what Brinley had told her. Instead, she answered the usual questions. “I’m not here because my daughter was having problems, Detective,” she said to the young guy who introduced himself as Corey Grant. “I’m here visiting my daughter and grandson because we missed each other. When she left this morning, we made plans for dinner, and lunch if she could swing it.”
“And you tried her phone?” the older guy, Detective Wamsley, asked.
“Numerous times. She wouldn’t ignore that many calls and messages, so something has to be wrong.”
“Let’s see if we can use that to find her, ma’am,” Wamsley said. “Do I have your permission to track her cell to try to narrow our search?”
“Yes, anything you need, you do it.”
Wamsley placed his hand on her forearm and smiled. “I believe you that something’s wrong, but if you can think of anything else, call me directly.” He handed her a card and pressed her fingers over it. “You have my word we’ll do everything we can to find her.”
“Thank you.”
Wamsley’s face seemed to change when he turned his attention to Dean. “Tell Mr. Wallace we’ll be back, so don’t think of avoiding the meeting.”
“Come on,” Dean said a bit too loudly. “We care about Brinley—we had nothing to do with this.”
“Two employees on the same day, from the same department?” Grant pointed at Dean. “The only other things they have in common is you, and that they’re missing. In police work, that’s what we call a big clue.”
“If you want to come with us, Mrs. Myers, we’ll get started on that phone trace,” Wamsley said.
“Let’s go before it’s too late,” Wilma said. “I refuse to believe anything other than they’re okay.” She looked at Dean before she walked out. “And if they’re not, someone will pay.”
Chapter Twelve
“Tell me you’re fucking kidding,” Robert said as Alex told him about the police visits to their offices. “They killed some kid?”
“Both women had children, and I told the guy to make it look like an accident,” Alex said calmly. “All I can think is something went wrong.”
“Killing a kid isn’t an accident, Alex, it’s a fucking disaster. It’s the kind of fucking disaster that makes peo
ple crazy about demanding the police find whoever did it.” Robert banged his fist on the desk a few times before he glared at Alex. “This was an easy job. Kill the accountants. That’s it.”
“I know that, but I didn’t kill the kids, and I sure as hell didn’t order that.” Alex stood and turned his back on him. “Jesus, who the fuck does that? Did he think there was a bonus for both of them?”
“Get Dean up here.”
Alex walked to the door and opened it. “I already called him up since I figured you’d want to see him.”
“Tell me.” He hoped Dean was smart enough not to need a ton of directions here.
“The two detectives came to ask questions about Naomi first, and they seem satisfied we didn’t have any connection to this.” Dean’s hair was out of his usual neat style, and his shirt was sweat stained. “When Brinley’s mother got here asking questions, I had no other play but to call them back. Shit, guys, we killed a kid? Or two?”
“Myers’s mother came here?” he asked, and Dean nodded. “I thought you both said she had no family here.”
“She doesn’t,” Alex said. “She arrived last night for a visit from New Orleans.”
“And she’s the type who’s not going to let this go,” Dean said and told him about his talk with Wilma. “I asked if Brinley mentioned anything about work and she said no, but I think she’s lying.”
“No one in the building is paying you to think about anything but the books, smart guy. Telling her or the police we had nothing to do with this is like telling them we did it,” he said, punching the desktop twice more. “If anyone else comes, you send them up here.”
“Yes, sir. What about Brinley and her son?” Dean asked.
“With any luck she’ll never be found. Let’s hope our other guy dropped the kid somewhere, or this will be radioactive.” Dean stood up and Alex placed his hands on his shoulders from behind. “Dean, you’ve been here long enough to know to keep your mouth shut, right? You letting anything slip to the police over a girl who was never going to fuck you unless she was tied down would not be healthy for you. You screw up, and we’ll introduce you to Caterina Terzo’s dark side, and she will fuck you.”
“Come on, Robert. You know I’m solid.”
“Get out of here and finish all that audit stuff yourself,” he said and dropped into his office chair. When he opened his eyes he noticed Dean’s pained expression. “What?”
“Brinley took a few boxes to finish at home since we’re on a tight deadline, and so did Naomi.”
“We all know Naomi’s aren’t a problem, but that’s not true of the rest. If Myers’s car gets dumped and the police get to it first, and those boxes are in there, I’m going to kill you to make myself feel better.” He leaned back and closed his eyes again. If he could kill Francesco and his two evil spawn, he would. That’s who was to blame for all this, since they’d pushed to expand way too fast and without a lot of planning. Francesco and his need to rush had pushed him into this fucked-up corner.
“You want me to call and have the car torched? Have him search the house?” Alex asked when they were alone.
“And invite our contractor to make some more money off me when they try to sell the paperwork back to us?” He poured himself a finger of whiskey and swallowed it. “Let’s give it until tonight, and if this one did his job, the cops won’t find the car.”
“Then I’ll check in the morning and get the boxes myself if they’re in her place.” Alex sat back down and shook his head when Robert picked up the bottle again. “It’s no time to lose your head.”
“The day can’t get any worse, unless there’s something else you’re not telling me.” He poured a little more, but as he lifted his glass, Caterina Terzo came in with her man Leon Santiago.
“That was like tempting fate.” Alex sighed and poured himself a drink.
“You don’t seem happy to see me,” Caterina said, motioning for Leon to stand by the door. “You put my father off, and for what?” She glared at them. “Then imagine my surprise when I watched the news this morning…Still, my phone was silent.”
“You coming over here isn’t going to help anything.” He was starting not to care how Caterina or anyone in her family felt about how he spoke to them. None of them understood the importance of not going through life like Godzilla in one of those old movies. Rushing and smashing things that were hard to put back together wasn’t his style, even if he had played his card on the accountants a little quickly. Their business had to be planned out if they wanted to keep going, but the Terzos were only interested in getting their money cleaned while everyone else took all the risks.
“Bobby, don’t get ahead of yourself. When you took my father’s deal, you understood what was expected of you. If you didn’t, keep that to yourself.” Caterina, as always, spoke like she was ordering in restaurants or talking about the weather. It was like killing and threatening people was an everyday occurrence. “Explaining now would have to take place somewhere you could scream all you want.”
“Let’s be honest with each other, Caterina, and admit you need me as much as I need you. This deal needs both sides, so don’t fucking come in here and threaten me.”
Leon got to him with impressive speed, but he didn’t say anything else after the big guy took the glass he’d been drinking out of and smashed it against Robert’s forehead. He blinked against the blood dripping into his eyes.
“The other thing to remember,” Caterina’s tone hadn’t changed, “is you’re an asshole we found with the qualifications to run a used-car lot and not much more. You’re here because you can follow directions, not because you’re a genius.” She might as well be saying it might rain tomorrow.
He pressed a wad of tissue to his head. “I was at another casino, so don’t try to rewrite history.” He tried to turn away before Leon hit him again but the fist to the side of his head hurt just as much. He leaned against the desk, determined not to drop to his knees in front of her. “Come on, Caterina. I’m not your enemy.”
“What the hell did you do?” Caterina asked, putting a finger up when Leon cocked his fist back to hit him yet again.
There was no other choice but to explain. He slumped into his chair. “I was doing research on the numbers to see how much more we can filter through this casino, since you and I both know this place is a dump. If, all of a sudden, we’re dishing out millions more, someone’s going to notice. You want that kind of heat on you?” He rolled his chair a little away from Leon to buy time. “Give me Victor’s slot next door, and Francesco would have to triple his operation to max out capacity.”
“You bring down an iron curtain on this place when the cops start to squeeze everyone for information on two dead women and their kids, and you expect to be rewarded for that?” Caterina laughed and shook her head. “Are you delusional?”
“Did you want me to leave them out there with the real picture of what we’re really doing?” He hoped she’d see reason. “We needed the report to move forward, to prove to your father we couldn’t handle a lot more at once. But we couldn’t have loose ends when it came to who knew about the numbers.”
“Get Dean up here,” Caterina said and snapped her fingers, prompting Alex to dial. “Shut up,” she said when Robert opened his mouth again. “You had your chance to talk, and I’m tired of listening to your long list of mistakes.”
Dean arrived and explained what the audit was supposed to prove, and how it differed from the books they kept for the purpose of the gaming commission. “Robert’s right in that adding much more isn’t impossible, but it has to be done slowly. There’s no way to hide much more than we do already.”
“If this audit was necessary to prove that, why didn’t you do it?” Caterina asked, and Robert saw how Dean swallowed hard. His pronounced Adam’s apple was a dead giveaway.
“I gave him two weeks because I didn’t want to put Francesco off longer than that,” Robert said. “He wouldn’t have made the deadline on his own. The women were
expendable.”
“You’ve got an answer for everything.” Caterina stood. “Concentrate on your business and stop dreaming about the place next door. That might be a reach unless you can prove to us you can navigate your way out of this shitstorm. From what I can tell, all you can do is get yourselves into a world of hurt. At some point, I think you’ll become expendable too.”
“Do you want to stop moving money until the cops are finished with whatever they’re going to do about our two problems?” He wiped his eyes again and his fingers came away bloody. If he needed stitches after the big son of a bitch Leon hit him, he was going to be pissed.
“If you want to keep breathing, then you’ll keep working, and do whatever you can to send the cops somewhere else.” Caterina turned toward the door but stopped. “Who’d you ask to help you? Their names,” Caterina asked, staring at Dean.
Robert glanced at Dean and nodded slightly. “Naomi Williams was found dead this morning, but one of our new hires, Brinley Myers, is missing,” Dean said, and Caterina mouthed something under her breath.
Caterina looked from him to Dean. “Were you drunk when you came up with this plan?”
“I was only looking out for our business,” he said, but his stomach clenched, since now it sounded even dumber than it had before.
“It’s a casino, Einstein. Laundering money through a casino isn’t exactly difficult,” Caterina said loudly, finally looking like she was pissed off. “But instead of doing what my father asked, you set your sights on bigger things and completely lost your mind. Now you’ve fucked us because the cops are going to be relentless on account of the little kid. Add another one to that, and someone has to go down.”
“Naomi Williams didn’t have any family except for her daughter, and she wasn’t anyone important, so it shouldn’t take long for the police to disappear. We went over this already.” Robert didn’t care how it looked—he poured himself another drink.
