Troy seemed to be trying to read her mind the way he always did, and in that moment, his eyes reflected her own insecurities and vulnerability.
“Why weren’t you answering your phones?” she asked.
“I was sleeping, and no work calls today. The other SWAT team’s on call.”
“But you still have it on just in case of an emergency, don’t you?”
“Madison, what is this about?”
“Why are you sleeping?” she fired back, overriding his question.
“It’s my day off,” he started, sounding annoyed, “and I like to get a few extra hours sometimes.” He paused. “Tell me what’s going on.” His tone was no-nonsense now, but then she remembered the backup Terry had called.
“Just give me a minute.” She rushed from the room and looked out the front window. Two cruisers, three officers. Two of them were coming toward the door—Gardener and his trainee. She saved them the trouble of knocking and opened the door. “False alarm.”
“Everything’s okay, Detective?” Gardener asked, leery and cautious. Madison appreciated why the officer would react that way. It could be that Madison and Troy were being coerced to act a certain way so the cops would leave.
She smiled and nodded. “It will be.”
“All right, then.” Gardener and his trainee turned around and left.
Madison closed and dead-bolted the front door and spun to head back to the bedroom, but she ran smack into Troy.
“Oh—” She tilted backward but quickly regained her balance. “What the—”
“You really need to start talking to me.” His words were rushed and punchier than before.
Hershey was playing referee wedged between them, and when Madison looked down, the dog was looking back up at her and wagging his tail.
Troy tugged on her arm, and she met his gaze. She didn’t say anything as she slipped a hand into her coat pocket where she’d shoved the letter and envelope. Her hand wrapped around the former, but she hesitated to pull it out. In the past, she’d handled situations by herself, tamped down her feelings, and managed. But life was supposed to be more than managing or getting by, and it wasn’t just her life in danger now. She closed her eyes, took out the letter, and handed it to him.
“What’s this?” he asked hesitantly, like a man who hated surprises.
She swallowed hard. “Read it.”
He unfolded the paper. She turned her back to him, as if not watching him read it meant it didn’t exist.
Hershey got in front of her and sat at her feet. His head was still bent and looking up at her. His tail was wagging—all unconditional love and innocence. What was it like to be a dog with no worries in the world? Cared for and loved just for being cute and cuddly? No Mafia out to—
Constantine is holding Hershey under his right arm. “We’ve been waiting for you. Why don’t you put the gun down?” He places his hands on both sides of the dog’s head, staring down into his eyes. “Cute dog you have here. But I’ve never seen the purpose of dogs. They are so vulnerable. It would only take one twist and your little hush puppy would be in doggie heaven.”
“You sick son of a bitch! I’ll kill you myself, I swear it.”
“Weapon down and out of reach. Now.” He pulls a gun and holds it to Hershey’s head.
“Maddy?” Her name sounded like it came from far away.
“Maddy?” Louder this time.
She felt a hand touch her shoulder, and she jumped.
“A flashback?” Troy’s question was filled with empathy but had been sparked by fire. It was his own inner turmoil she was well familiar with: as much as he loved her, it made him angry to see her hurting. She couldn’t bring herself to nod. Her body was paralyzed despite its trembling. She tried to take a long, solid inhale, but she’d have to settle for small, choppy breaths.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” He must have sensed her unspoken answer, obviously benching any curiosity and concern he had about the letter.
Even Hershey isn’t safe…
Madison shook her head and licked her lips. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine.”
“It does matter.” He waved the letter in the air. “Where did you get this? This is the only time I’m asking.”
“It was under my windshield wiper when I came out of my doctor’s appointment.”
“So he’s been following you?” She could see his pulse tapping in his cheek.
“He has to be.” She swallowed back the urge to cry, trying to ignore the burning of unshed tears and the lump in her throat. “And he threatened my loved ones. When I couldn’t reach you…”
“Come here.” Troy opened his arms and drew her to him.
She fell into the embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder, and she soaked in the security that came from being in his arms. She allowed herself to languish there. That was, until Hershey started butting his head against her thigh insistently. She pulled back from Troy and patted Hershey on the head, then got down on her haunches and cupped his face, her fingers rubbing behind his ears. She pressed her forehead to his.
“I want you off this case,” Troy said.
She glowered at him. “I told you this morning—”
His jaw clenched, and his body went rigid. His green eyes were now chiseled emeralds. “Things have changed. You need to take yourself off this case and get twenty-four-hour protection. Even take a few days off, or a week, or more.”
“I’m not going to hide,” she fired back. “That’s what he wants.”
“So you’d rather get killed?” he served back with heat, but his words chilled her.
“Of course not,” she spat.
“Then I don’t see a choice.” He took off toward the bedroom.
“Are all my loved ones supposed to hole up, too?”
Troy came back to her. “If that’s what it takes? Yeah.” He stomped away again.
What was she supposed to say to him? He was right. About all of it. But she just couldn’t bring herself to back down, no matter how severe the threats. She had a hard time believing that removing herself from the investigation would really do anything for her welfare.
The sound of slamming dresser drawers came from down the hall, and a couple of minutes later, Troy emerged fully dressed. “We’ll drop the letter off to the lab. See if they can pull any prints.”
Madison was shaking her head. “He’s a professional. He’s not going to leave prints.”
“He was obviously stupid enough—or cocky enough—to come out in daylight and leave this on your car. Let’s hope he was stupid enough to leave behind some prints so we can undisputedly tie the son of a bitch—”
A tremor ran through her, and her knees began to buckle.
Troy came over to her.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, while hating the fact that she’d dredged out that word again to describe her feelings.
Troy’s stern expression melted away. “Sweetheart, you most certainly are.”
Her open mouth clamped shut. She’d been ready to defend herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” He pulled her to him again, and this time, she put her head against his chest.
Being held in his arms, listening to the sound of his heart beating, and feeling the heat of his breath on the side of her face, Madison felt so safe. The threat of the Russian Mafia seemed to fade into the background. Here, she was protected; she wasn’t alone. In fact, her heart told her that she’d never have to handle anything on her own again. And in this moment, she liked the sound of that.
-
CHAPTER
14
THE SERGEANT’S AND THE CHIEF’S eyes were on Madison, and she hated the probing curiosity and apprehension that she saw in them. They obviously knew something was horribly wrong, and she found her emotions doi
ng their best to destabilize her. She swallowed them the best she could. At least Troy and Terry were there with her, and they already knew the situation.
Madison jutted out her chin. “There’s been a development,” she said, setting a basis for everything that would follow.
“There’s been a threat on my life and the lives of those I love,” she punched out. Maybe it was best to just get it out there and deal with the repercussions that were certain to come.
Andrea turned to look at her brother, then back to Madison.
“A threat?” Winston put an arm on the table and leaned forward. “From whom?”
Madison licked her lips. Constantine being back was one of her worse nightmares come to life, and as long as she harbored the secret, or it was kept to a knowing few, her mind could downplay the urgency. But being here, her thoughts were betraying her. The words from Constantine’s letter slammed against her willpower, and her legs trembled. Maybe sitting down was a good idea. She took a chair at the end of the table.
She took a deep breath as everyone watched. “The threat came from Constantine Romanov.” Her statement hung in the air.
“What?” Winston exclaimed, shaking his head. “How? When?”
Andrea’s complexion paled. Her mouth kept opening and closing as she drew her gaze from Madison to Troy and back again.
Terry caught Madison’s attention, and her partner’s resolute expression buoyed her to continue. Still, there was no way that she could bring herself to look at Troy right now or she’d falter. Around him, part of her strength chipped away, as if she didn’t need to be strong because he was strong enough for both of them. And she couldn’t allow that to happen right now.
“We—” she gestured to Terry “—believe that Bates was connected to the Russian Mafia and it’s what got him killed.”
“Do you have proof?” Winston spat, seeming to have no problem setting aside the death threat for a moment.
“We have good reason,” Madison said. Winston opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him. “There was a piece of letterhead found in his possession that tied back to Mitchell County Prison where Dimitre Petrov is serving time.”
“The head of the Russian mob?” Andrea asked.
Madison nodded. “That’s right. Now, we haven’t tied Bates directly to Petrov, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“You sound quite confident for someone without tangible proof,” Winston said argumentatively.
A sliver of aggravation wormed through her core. What was wrong with this man? She just told him her life and the lives of her loved ones had been threatened, and he was hammering her about evidence?
She hesitated. She knew she had to tell them the rest of the story, but she also knew how they would all react. She swallowed—hard. “We have an eyewitness who saw Bates with Constantine hours before his death.”
Madison’s gaze shot straight to Troy, and he met hers. His face was hard lines, and he shook his head. She cleared her throat and went on to disclose that she and Terry had suspicions about the legitimacy of Berger & Stein Accounting.
“That is why you have officers helping you pull backgrounds on their board members.” Winston slid Terry a sideways glance and a scowl twisted his lips.
Madison dismissed her observation, not knowing what had warranted that reaction from the sergeant. But last night, before she and Terry had headed home, they had enlisted the help of a couple of officers to assist. Additionally, the members of the board would have to be scrutinized closer from both personal and professional standpoints.
“The company was founded by a friend of Rodney Bates,” she began. She went on to share the related information—how he’d reunited with Greg Berger not long before going to prison and, in that same time frame, started the firm.
Winston bobbed his head. “Highly suspicious,” he said to Andrea.
Her weary eyes disclosed that she was torn between focusing on the actual case and the personal facets of the situation at hand. “Get back to the threat on your life,” she said. “When did this happen? How? Also, we should probably take you off this investigation.” She addressed Winston. “I’d even suggest that she take some time off until this threat is neutralized. Same with Troy.”
“Me? I’m fine,” Troy said coolly, his eyes locked on Madison’s. “I’ve asked her to take herself off the case, and she refuses.”
“We can order her to,” Winston put plainly.
“We can order both of them to,” Andrea corrected him.
Madison’s anger simmered beneath the surface—barely. She hated being spoken about as if she wasn’t right there. “It doesn’t matter if I’m on the job or not. Same with Troy. If Constantine wants to find me, he will find me either way, and I’d rather be working the case.”
“It’s not necessarily a matter of what you want.” There was a touch of concern in Winston delivery, and it was probably the only reason she didn’t snap back with something sharp and defensive.
“Show them the letter,” Troy prompted.
She regarded him for a moment, trying to read him, but he was guarded. Probably because he didn’t want to be benched, either. And because she’d kept the eyewitness information from him.
“The letter?” Andrea turned to face her brother across the table.
Madison took the letter out of her pocket. She had put it, along with the envelope, into a clear freezer bag before leaving Troy’s house. She slid the bag down the table toward Winston, and it came to rest in front of him. He picked it up and held it so both he and Andrea could read it.
Andrea’s face blanched as she met Madison’s eyes, and Madison didn’t care for the chief’s unspoken message.
“Please don’t,” Madison said preemptively, assuming that Andrea was going to make her take time off and put her into protective custody.
Andrea took a breath so deep that her chest visibly expanded and her shoulders heaved. She bit on her bottom lip as if mustering the strength to say something. “We need to get the entire department on this, Sergeant,” she told Winston. “Alert them to the threat. And this needs to be taken to the lab and analyzed.”
“That’s my next stop,” Madison said.
“Getting back to this sighting of Constantine and Bates,” Winston began. “Do we have any idea why they were together hours before Constantine supposedly killed him?”
Madison glanced at Terry. At best they had a theory, but given the way the sergeant was keeping his gaze locked on her, there was no way she could completely sideswipe his inquiry. “We believe that Jimmy Bates may have been a numbers man for the Mafia, and we—” her attention went to Terry “—think it may be possible that he was inadvertently paying Constantine for the contract on his own head.”
Andrea’s eyes widened, and she slid her gaze to her brother. Madison followed and found Troy seemingly staring into space, his body rigid.
“Do you believe killing…” Andrea’s words trailed off.
“Killing me was part of the contract?” Madison finished, assuming she was reading Andrea’s mind correctly.
The chief nodded.
“I don’t know.” Coolness enveloped Madison as if she were drowning in a cold lake of fear. The realization struck again that Constantine had been spotted two nights ago and he’d been following her this morning, and she’d had no idea. If she didn’t know about that, how could she begin to assume that she’d have any inkling when he was coming after her?
“We need to get protection on you, Troy.” Winston slid his attention to Terry. “And you and your family.”
Terry winced subtly but Winston’s scowl confirmed he’d seen it.
“Let me guess, it’s already in place,” Winston stated sourly.
Terry straightened. “I just found out about the letter not long before this meeting, but—”
Winston held u
p his hand, staving off Terry’s defense. “I understand the urgency. What I don’t appreciate—” he drew his gaze from Terry to Madison “—is the lack of communication. Although, it’s something I suppose I should be used to with you by now.”
“You know what you need to now,” Troy said, his body language rigid.
Madison’s heart was racing. She didn’t really care for him stepping in to her defense like that. She’d handled Winston fine for years on her own.
Winston glowered at Troy. “From this point on, I must insist that you keep me apprised on this case,” Winston demanded, his focus on Madison. “Do we have an understanding?”
The intensity in Winston’s expression made it clear that this wasn’t a negotiation. At least he wasn’t insisting that she be removed from the case.
“We do,” Madison replied, the haunting thoughts finally loosening their grip on her.
Winston dipped his head. “Everyone in the department will be notified of the situation and briefed on Constantine Romanov. Every cop in this city will be looking for him. One wrong move and we’ll have him.”
Madison breathed a little easier, surprisingly relieved to have her suspicions about Constantine out in the open.
Winston addressed Madison. “I’ll make sure that officers are assigned to watch your family 24-7.”
Terry cleared his throat and sunk back into his chair.
“Already done?” Winston asked with a sigh.
“That’s a good thing,” Andrea said. “This man is a serious threat, and we need to view him as such.” The chief had found her strength again and was infusing Madison with renewed confidence. “As you said, Sergeant, I wholeheartedly agree that bringing down this—” Andrea paused.
Madison guessed the words Andrea didn’t verbalize were along the lines of son of a bitch.
“—Russian hit man,” Andrea continued, “needs to become this department’s priority.”
Winston was sitting with his back firm against his chair, his hands clasped and resting on his stomach. His eyes contained a glimmer of disappointment when they came to rest on Madison, as if she had brought this upon herself. But any time he got that air about him, it usually equated to one thing: the bottom line. The budget and manpower. Pulling officers from the street and their regular duties to babysit one of their own was a predicament that Winston seemed to despise. And now, with the chief’s words, it would be necessary to put aside other cases to focus on this one in particular.
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