by Vonna Harper
“You think your brother has—had—good instincts when it comes to people?” Korbin had asked during their initial conversation.
“I’m a cop. I suspect everyone. Nate picked up a lot from me.”
“And you don’t trust me. You’d tell me who your brother was working for if you did.”
“If that’s what it takes for you to get involved, I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.” He’d hung up.
Two days later, Korbin had paid for a plane ticket to bring Joe south. That was when Joe concluded Caleb knew what the hell he was talking about when he’d said Korbin could accomplish things no one else could. Caleb had one piece of advice. The fewer questions Joe asked about the relationship between Korbin and local law enforcement the better.
“Korbin will tell you what he believes you need to know,” Caleb had explained. “Let him run the show. Take his advice.”
“What if I don’t agree with him?”
“Then you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”
No matter what his reservations were, and he had them, Joe would do as Caleb suggested because his brother deserved justice.
Caleb, a big, unsmiling man who reminded Joe of himself, had picked him up at the airport and taken him to a mansion that sported a wall of windows overlooking the Pacific. The two law enforcement officers hadn’t said much during the drive, hadn’t so much as shaken hands when Caleb dropped him off.
“Do what you have to,” Caleb had said.
“I will.”
Joe had spent his first night in southern California trying to sleep in a bedroom that was larger than his apartment. The next morning he’d met Korbin. As he’d sipped strong black coffee on Korbin’s expansive outdoor patio while being lulled by the scent of sea air, the tall, slender sixties-something man with little hair and a right pinky finger that didn’t straighten had admitted he’d known Caleb for around a half dozen years. He’d been sparse on details, something about both men being opposed to organized crime. Korbin wasn’t and had never been involved with law enforcement. He just hated seeing the bad guys get away with anything. Joe had no doubt there was more to the story.
By the time he’d finished his third cup of coffee while seagulls floated overhead, Joe had admitted that his brother’s death had nearly destroyed him. He’d managed not to reveal the details about why the brothers had been so close, but that might change.
Korbin’s expression had morphed from non-committal to dark when Joe told him he believed Nate had been working for Ethan Crowl. Did Korbin know who that was, Joe had asked.
“Oh, hell yes.”
“What do you think of him?”
“He should be dead. Before he can do any more damage.”
“Why haven’t you done it?”
Korbin had stood and walked to the railing that stopped fools from landing on the boulders below. “Because someone with more reason than I have to put Crowl down should get the honor. Is that you?”
“I’d like nothing better.” Killing Ethan might be the only thing that makes my life worth living.
“What are you thinking?” Korbin asked as he pulled into the parking lot reserved for residents of the short-term apartment complex he’d arranged to move Joe into the day before, Korbin’s explanation simple. He didn’t want anyone spotting Joe at his place.
Joe didn’t move. “That the next step’s yours. You’ve had a couple of days to check me out.”
Korbin chuckled. “I did that prior to flying you down here. A compliment. You’ve done a good job of staying under the radar.”
“It’s a job requirement.”
“In other words, you might not be alive if you can’t stay in the shadows.”
“I don’t have a choice. I’m hoping to hell my talent will work to my advantage here, but Ethan’s going to want to know who I really am.”
“We’ll take care of that.”
“We?”
“I don’t work alone. For now that’s all you need to know. What do you think of Ethan?”
Despite his curiosity about who Korbin meant by we, he focused on the question. “He wants the world to believe he’s a respectable businessman. He might want to relax and enjoy what he’s worked to accomplish but he can’t.”
“Why can’t he?”
“His is a dangerous existence. He can’t trust anyone, not even his wife.”
“What about his stepdaughter?”
“She’s beautiful.”
Korbin turned off the engine and stroked the steering wheel. “What do you think of her relationship with Ethan?”
Joe tried to concentrate, but snippets of the time he’d spent with Lainey got in the way. She’d been as curious about him as he’d been about her, not trusting and not caring whether he knew.
“I didn’t really observe them together. A couple of times one of his guests pulled Ethan aside. Judging by body language, I’m fairly sure the guest wanted to talk to Ethan about Lainey.”
“What do you think the conversation was about?”
“Whether she was available. Whether she could be bought.”
“That could make for a complicated relationship between the two of them.”
“Yeah, it could.”
“Do you think she’d satisfy your curiosity about her stepfather if you went about it the right way?”
Caleb had made it clear Korbin demanded honesty from those he dealt with. As a cop, Joe knew how rare that was.
“Ethan’s wealthy. Not as rich as you, but he has enough to buy her loyalty.”
“Yeah.” Korbin patted the steering wheel. “So it’ll take more than a wad of bills to open her mouth.”
His heart rate kicked up like it did when the clues in a case started coming together. “Yes.”
“And what might that be?”
“I’m not sure, yet. I got the sense there’s holes in her.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m no shrink, but she’s restless. Unfulfilled. Looking for something she’s reluctant to share with anyone.”
“You want to be that person?”
“Maybe, if I can use her weakness, if that’s what it is, to my advantage.”
“Exploit it, you mean?”
“If that’s what it takes to charge Ethan Crowl with murdering my brother or arranging to have him killed, hell yes.”
Korbin jerked his head up and down which caused his gray hair to fly about. “That’s something else I might be able to help with.”
There it was again, the increased heart rate that made him feel alive. “In what way?”
Korbin leaned toward Joe, extracted an envelope from the glove compartment, and gave it to him. His fingers not quite steady, Joe opened the envelope. Several pieces of paper and an embossed business card were in it. The card contained an address and phone number. J&J in large dark lettering was embossed in the top left corner.
“J&J?” Joe asked. “What does that stand for?”
“Judge and Jury. The longer you and I work together the more you’ll understand. Plug in the directions to the address. Check the place out before you make use of it.”
“Who lives there?”
“No one. The doors are locked, but they’ll respond to your fingerprint.”
“How did—”
“Technology. My—staff has access to what’s real about you. J&J has a mission you don’t yet comprehend. For now it’s enough to say it exists to stop illegal activities that go beyond what law enforcement is able to accomplish. The mafia’s our primary focus. I’d love to bring the whole damn enterprise down, but that’s a tall order. Putting a stop to any part of the operation would be very satisfying.”
“The mafia,” Joe repeated. “You’re sure Ethan Crowl—”
“Don’t. You’ve already come to that conclusion, right?”
“Yeah. I have.”
“I appreciate your honesty. In fact, I’d send you packing if you weren’t. The next step’s yours, but J&J is behind you. We
’ll provide you with many of the tools you’ll need.” He indicated the envelope.
His head pounding, Joe exited the Cadillac. He wanted to call Caleb and tell him what had taken place that night, maybe get his fellow detective to tell him everything he knew about Ethan so he wouldn’t have to rely on Korbin.
“There’s one more thing,” Korbin said.
“What is it?”
“Use Lainey Stanfield, but don’t let her distract you from your goal.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t question your methods.”
“Never.”
Lainey groaned when her mother’s name came up on her cell. Her night class had just let out and she was on her way to the campus café for a much needed bite to eat. She was hoping to chat with several of her fellow biology students about their reaction to the night’s test, not listen as her mother detailed her day, detail being the telling word.
“I don’t know,” Megara said in response to her ‘hello’. “I’m hoping something will come of it. Ethan feels the same way. What do you think of Korbin Aldrich?”
It took Lainey a moment to switch gears to her conversation with the older man during the party she’d attended three days ago. She had no trouble bringing his serious, physically intimidating financial advisor to mind.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say about Korbin. We hardly spoke.”
“Well, I have,” her mother gushed, then followed by explaining that Ethan had ‘just happened’ to run into Korbin Aldrich at a car show a couple of days prior. One thing had led to another and Ethan had brought up his wife’s acting experience.
“Korbin knows who I am,” Megara said. “And he remembers my asking if he or his financial advisor know any directors who might be looking for a mature and experienced actress. In fact…”
“In fact what, Mom?”
“Ethan gave Korbin my personal cell number. Korbin got in touch with me this afternoon.” She sobbed. “Honey, it’s looking good. The way my beloved husband talked me up—I know that’s why Korbin went to the effort he did. I’m supposed to meet with a director whose career I’ve followed for years on Wednesday. Ethan’s excited for me. I love him so much.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“You know how it is,” her mother said. “How hard I work to stay relevant. By the way, Korbin mentioned he enjoyed talking to you. I’d love to have you with me the next time I see him. You can, can’t you?”
Groaning to herself, Lainey agreed. Then, not giving her mother a chance to tell her for the millionth time how cutthroat the movie industry was and how much this opportunity meant to her, she lied a little, saying she was heading home and couldn’t talk while behind the wheel. After ending the conversation, she looked around. She’d wandered off the sidewalk and was on just-watered lawn heading toward a mass of jacaranda trees. The sweep of purple flowers contrasting with dark trunks and branches slowed her. Usually she loved seeing the well-tended trees. Tonight they surrounded her, isolated her.
Maybe she should have gone on talking to her mother, asked if Megara was as happy being Ethan’s wife as she wanted people to believe. As she professed to be.
“Hello, Lainey.”
She started, tugging her backpack off her shoulders and holding it against her chest like a shield. “Who…” She stared into the night-dark trees. Darn it, there should be streetlights here. And if not decent illumination, other students.
“Daniel Jackson,” he said.
It shouldn’t surprise her. After all, she’d been thinking about him more than she wanted to admit. “What are you doing here?”
“Would you believe it if I told you I was going for a run?”
Now she could see him, notice his slacks, front button shirt, and dress shoes. “Not dressed like that you aren’t.”
“You’re right.” He emerged from his surroundings and sat on a metal bench. “Truth is I’ve been talking to an economics professor. He’s a client, wants me to talk to a couple of his classes about understanding investments once they’re in a position of doing so.”
Relaxing a little, she sat on the bench which was wide enough that they weren’t in contact with each other. Still, he was too close to ignore, not that she wanted to.
Her throat heated, compelling her to remind herself not to acknowledge her necklace. It wasn’t easy.
“Interesting,” she said.
“Not really. How about we don’t pretend investments are a fascinating subject.” He rested his outstretched arms on the back of the bench. She stayed upright to ensure his fingers didn’t accidentally or otherwise touch her because her reaction might give too much away.
“I can’t believe we ran into each other,” she said. Had he been stalking her? Hell no. She just wished he had.
“I guess.”
Darn it, he wasn’t holding up his end of the conversation. “Do you get paid for talks like that? Maybe it’s something you can make a video of. A Zoom presentation.” She shrugged. “College is so different from what it was like just a few years ago. Almost everything is online.”
“Just about.”
This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Her stomach was rumbling, and if she didn’t hurry, her classmates would no longer be in the café. She stood.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
There was something to the question, a sharpness maybe. A little on edge, she slung the pack over her shoulders.
“To hopefully eat. I never have time to grab dinner between getting off work and—”
Something stabbed her thigh. Startled by the sharp poke, she looked down. Daniel Jackson’s hand was against her upper leg, keeping the pain going. Instead of yelling, she made a fist and punched his chest. At least, she tried to but he managed to evade her while keeping the needle or whatever it was buried in her.
She opened her mouth, took an awkward step. She was floating, all loose limbs, mind shutting down. A small part of her insisted she was in trouble, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Whimpering softly, she started to fall. He snaked powerful arms around her and eased her onto the bench. Her thigh no longer throbbed.
“What—”
“You’re mine,” he said. “I don’t have a choice.”
Chapter 4
Consciousness returned a blip at a time. Her head throbbed. Her limbs were muscle-less. Wherever she was, the lights were off. Maybe it was night. Maybe her captor had dumped her in a basement or closet or—
Basement? Alarmed, she looked around, but still had no idea where she was. At least the place didn’t have the stale stench the old house her mother and she’d lived in when she was twelve had. She wasn’t restrained or naked.
Fear tapped at her, forcing her to hammer it to the back of her mind. She wasn’t going to panic, she wasn’t!
She hadn’t been harmed. Except for a dull throb in her thigh she wasn’t in pain. She was counting her blessings, such as they were, when she realized she was on cement flooring. Shuddering, she got onto her hands and knees then stood. Not being able to see was disorienting so she took several tentative steps with her arms outstretched. Her fingers came in contact with metal.
Bars.
Was she in a cage?
A dream. The most vivid dream of her life.
Despite the fallacy of her thinking, she half clung to it until she remembered why her thigh hurt. Daniel Jackson was responsible! Whimpering, she held onto the bars for support. She rested her forehead on the cold metal and contemplated calling out for her mother. After a few minutes, she shook herself free of the ludicrous idea—when had her mother been someone she could lean on—and straightened.
Repeatedly blinking helped her eyes adjust. She was in a cage, all right, but it wasn’t an animal’s cage. She had enough room to freely move about. It was furnished with a single mattress on the floor. A toilet and faucet occupied the opposite corner. Half expecting Daniel to appear and order her not to move, she inched toward the door. A large padlock sporting a key
hole for locking purposes held the door in place. When she struck it with her fist, she remembered trying to punch Daniel when he’d plunged a needle into her.
This made no sense! Kidnappers were lumbering men wearing long black trench coats and ski masks. They had yellowed teeth, scraggly hair, and smelled like they hadn’t showered for a month. Some drooled. All spoke as if they were illiterate.
They certainly couldn’t mingle unnoticed in overdone houses during parties known for endless booze and attractive women at the ready to dispense more booze.
In other words, kidnappers weren’t Daniel Jackson.
“Where the hell are you? What the hell is this about?”
Nothing.
Set on edge by her voice’s echo, she shook the door. Was this what being in solitary confinement felt like?
Much more to the point, why had Daniel done this? It wasn’t as if he could get away with imprisoning her.
“Where are you? They’re going to look for me. When I don’t show up for work, they’ll…”
Would anyone know where she was? She certainly didn’t.
“Daniel? You owe me an explanation. If this is your idea of a joke, I don’t like it.”
No joke. Just saying what she had made her feel like an idiot.
“You need help. Counseling. I had some after—I’ll hook you up with someone you’ll feel comfortable talking to. You have no reason to feel guilty about what you’re putting me through. I understand. Believe me, I do.” No I don’t.
Light exploded overhead. She lifted her arm to shield her eyes then again grabbed the bars because she didn’t trust her legs to hold her.
“Why did you need counseling?”
Her teeth clamped together, she looked toward where the commanding voice had come from. Daniel stood at the far end of a large room; his muscular arms folded over his chest. Her cage took up less than half of the well-furnished room. The way he studied her had her drawing comparisons between herself and a zoo animal. Thankfully, modern zoos were designed to duplicate what wild animals experienced in the real world. Maybe she should be grateful this crazy man had given her a flush toilet and mattress.
