by T. K. Leigh
She shook her head. “I don’t. An exterior escape will draw too much attention. He has lots of plain clothes guys roaming the hotel at all times. Their photos are in the file here. Toby tried to determine whether there’s a pattern, but he couldn’t find one. I did make a friend. She used to be his head of housekeeping, but now she’s forced to work as a dishwasher. Her name’s Rosa. She’s Columbian, too. She helped Jolene and quite a few other girls escape. I knew I was taking a risk talking to her, but I could tell something was wrong. Apparently, this Falconi guy killed her husband and now has her daughter. He’s using her as one of his girls. Anyway, between everything I’ve found out from her and what both Toby and I have observed, the service elevator is the best way to go without involving too many civilians. You don’t know what this guy will do if you try to take her out through the front door. There’s a huge risk of too many people getting harmed, if that’s the case.”
“We need to stay as far under the radar as possible to get Jolene out and then, hopefully, the rest of the girls. But Jolene’s our priority right now.”
“Understood. Okay. Time for me to get back to work.” She raised herself off the couch. “I’ll maintain radio silence until I hear from you. Good luck.”
He nodded, walking Cora to the door. “You, too.”
~~~~~~~~~~
LANEY SAT AT HER office all day, combing through the reports on Holly’s body sent up from Houston. She always found it odd that another body was discovered in a similar manner in Chicago within a few month period, and she was thankful someone else finally did, too.
Analyzing the bullets found in the two men that were discovered next to the body in question, she scrunched her eyes to make sure she wasn’t trying to see something that wasn’t there.
“Joey!” she called out to her assistant. “Can you come here for a minute?!”
“Coming!” a voice responded, a stout man in his early thirties running into her lab.
“I’m not crazy to think that these bullets were fired from the same weapon, correct?” she asked, gesturing to the image of an intact bullet and a bullet fragment on the large screen of her computer. “The rifling marks are nearly identical, but I just want a second opinion.”
Joey analyzed the images closely. “I’d say it’s a high probability. Have the bullets pulled from the bodies in our custody been run through our database to see if it was registered?”
Laney looked through the file, thinking that was every forensic scientist’s first step when dealing with ballistics. “No,” she said, her voice low. “It doesn’t even look like these cases were ever assigned to anyone. That’s a bit odd.”
“There’s a lot of odd things going on here, isn’t there?”
“There certainly is. Let’s run it through.”
“You got it.”
Several hours later, after they were able to match the bullet to the weapon that fired it, Laney’s heart sank when she had to make the phone call that would change Greg’s world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
GUILTY NO MORE
“MR. BURNHAM!” FALCONI ENTHUSIASTICALLY greeted Alexander and David as they made their way into the darkened suite that housed the poker room.
Alexander scanned the smoky area, surveying the fifteen or so patrons that were drinking and smoking cigars as girls, wearing next to nothing, delivered drinks. He prayed that these men kept drinking in case they had to make their escape from that room. He had a bad feeling in his gut about tonight.
“Mr. Falconi,” Alexander said, returning his attention to the broad-shouldered man, cordially shaking his hand. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Nonsense. It’s the least I could do for such an important guest. But who’s this?” He gestured toward Martin behind him.
“He’s my assistant. I don’t go anywhere without him.”
Falconi gave him a concerned look. “I agreed to let you come play, not your assistant.”
“He won’t be playing. Don’t worry.”
“Still, I’m hesitant to…”
“Well, I’ll just reverse the wire transfer then. I’m sure someone else, who won’t have a problem if I brought my assistant with me, would gladly take my money. He goes where I go, except, of course…”
“Naturally, naturally,” Falconi said. “Of course. Please stay. But first, I must insist that my men search both of you. It’s standard practice.”
“I completely understand.” Raising his arms, Alexander allowed two guards to pat him down.
“What’s in the pocket?” one of the overweight men asked upon feeling something, his voice rough from years of smoking cigarettes.
With a sly grin, Alexander emptied his shirt pocket, showing the guards several foil packets, thankful that his tech was able to hide a tiny microphone and transmitter in the small wrappers. While he couldn’t directly communicate with Cora and Miller, they would at least still have ears on what was going on in the room.
“Like I always say… Be prepared.” He winked.
Falconi chuckled heartily. “Be prepared,” he repeated through his laughs. “I like this one. Please, enjoy yourself and have a seat at the table. I’ll be sure to send a girl your way. Anything you see catch your fancy?”
“I have somewhat distinct tastes. Blonde. Tall. Blue eyes.” His stomach churned from having to play the part of an arrogant scumbag, but it was necessary.
“I believe I have someone who fits that description perfectly. Enjoy yourself.” He nodded to David. “Both of you. Have a great time. In the meantime, please let me know when you’ve found something you might want to order off the menu.”
“I sure will,” Alexander replied, trying not to put a bullet in the man’s head at that moment. He followed David’s lead across the extravagant poker room, the sound of ice clinking in rocks glasses permeating the atmosphere. Fifteen steps. That’s all it took to get from the front door to the bar. Glancing toward the poker table, he estimated it would only take another ten more. If he had to make the snatch-and-grab there, it was possible. He had faced worse odds in the past.
Continuing toward the table, noticing lots of dark corners where he could easily disable and disarm if need be, his eyes fell on the woman for whom they were all putting their lives on the line. She was standing toward the back of the room, her eyes downturned.
“Don’t worry,” David muttered. “You have plenty of money. The only way Falconi won’t be able to give you the girl is if he owes someone a favor.”
Alexander nodded his head, breaking his gaze from the skinny blonde. “Does he owe you a favor?”
A sly grin crossed David’s face. “I did put out the video that led him to her. I’d say that counts as a pretty big favor.”
Spinning around, Alexander’s expression remained calm as he leaned into him, plastering a fake smile on his face. “You do understand that if I don’t get the girl into a private room, I’ll have to take her out of this room, and if you get in my way, I will snap your neck, right?” He patted David on the back, laughing as if he just heard a rather amusing joke. “Now let’s play some cards.”
David swallowed hard.
~~~~~~~~~~
“MARK! WHERE ARE YOU, you son of a bitch?!” Greg shouted, busting through the door of his apartment only to find that it was empty. Heading toward his home office for some clue as to where his traitorous friend could be, he jimmied open the locked filing cabinet. Combing through it, he ran across what appeared to be a multitude of room service bills from Falconi’s hotel spanning the past several years, all with the same room number.
He dashed out of the apartment, fuming as he drove through the streets of Chicago, hating himself for not putting all the pieces together before. Now that he knew Mark killed Holly, it all made sense.
Mark told those men where he and Angelina were hiding out all those years ago and they struck when he was out of the house. They didn’t kill Mark, even though they shot him from point blank range, because he was working for them.
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The weekend of Holly’s and Jolene’s disappearance, he was the one that encouraged him to get more drunk than he ever had in the past, all under the guise of being the compassionate friend who was helping him get one last bender out of his system before checking in to rehab. And he bought it. He actually believed that Mark was being a good friend, helping him cope with his past so he could make a clean plan for his future. It made Greg sick to his stomach to think of all the lies the bastard fed him over the years, knowing that he was the cause of his heartache and pain. The remorse for drinking and missing all the signs was eating him up inside, but it was time to finally place that guilt on someone else.
He pulled up in front of the hotel and tossed the keys to the valet. Passing by the bar in the lobby, he figured that today was as good of a day as any to have that one drink. It had been years since he’d had one, but it was time. He finally knew how to control it. And he no longer felt guilt for what had happened to three of the most important women in his life. He had no fault in what happened to them. Finally, he realized that he couldn’t have done anything to stop it. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders, only to be replaced by an intense desire for revenge…and bloodshed.
~~~~~~~~~~
MARK WAS LYING ON the bed in his hotel room, wondering when his debt to Falconi would finally be forgiven. He had gotten in too deep years ago, and now it had become rather impossible to shake him. He was starting to think that he would go to his grave still owing him.
A quiet knock woke him from his thoughts, wondering what Falconi had up his sleeve this time. Another job. Another day. One step closer to being rid of the debt.
“What does he want now?” he asked, swinging open the door.
“Hello, Mark,” Greg hissed, pointing a gun at his chest.
Mark’s eyes momentarily grew wide in confusion before a look of resignation crossed his face. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”
Greg’s blood spiked in anger as he pushed into the foyer, keeping his weapon trained on Mark. “How could you?”
He sighed, retreating into his room, but keeping his eyes focused on Greg. “I was stupid. This guy was the one who said he could help me make detective, but that he would have to call in a favor one day. I was young and naïve so I agreed, thinking it would be something small, like fixing the occasional parking ticket here and there. Never did I think he would ask me to…”
“To what?!” Greg yelled. “To tell these fuckers where Angie and I were hiding? To kill Holly? To help them kidnap Jolene?”
“Don’t you think I live with that regret every day? I do, Greg. I told Holly to run…to hide. And she stayed hidden for over a decade. Hell, I was the one that kept her in a safe house in Houston all those years! Why do you think I was down there every month? Yes, to see you, but mostly to check on Holly! I hated keeping her existence a secret from you but, to keep her alive, I had to! When you moved up here but I kept going down to Houston, it raised red flags. He approached me with surveillance footage of the safehouse and sent me to finish the job, ordering me to kill her in that horrific way. I hate myself for everything I’ve had to do. But I’ve also seen what happens if you don’t follow through on his orders. He’s one sick fuck. Hell, practically the entire police force is in his pocket.”
“You knew when you suggested that I go see a girl all those years ago… You knew what this guy was like, didn’t you?”
Mark continued backing up, trying to keep Greg distracted. He was overly emotional and people like that couldn’t be trusted to be rational. He just wanted to keep him talking.
“I knew what was going on, but I had no idea how he was treating them until Angie told us that story about what he did that time he found out one of the girls got pregnant. Honest to God.”
“But you helped us. Why?”
Mark shrugged. “Because I felt guilty about everything else. I figured if I could help you guys find your happiness, maybe it would cancel all the other shitty stuff I’d been doing for this guy. But he figured it out one day. He realized that I knew where Angie had escaped to and he wanted me to pay. So I had to tell him where you guys were. I put it off as long as I could, at least until Jolene was born, but I couldn’t stall anymore. At least two of his guys were killed that day.”
“But so was my Angie, you son of a bitch!” he roared, his face flaming red with fury. “That’s no fucking consolation prize, Mark! You’re the reason Angie’s dead! You’re the reason that Jolene…!” He trailed off, his entire body trembling at the very notion that his best friend and former partner was the cause of his pain and suffering.
“Don’t you think it’s been eating me up inside?!” Mark exclaimed passionately. “I fucking loved Angie just as much as you did! I loved your daughter like I would my own!”
“No!” Greg yelled. “You do not get to say that about Jolene! Not when it’s your damn fault that she’s been tossed between men for the past ten years of her life, you sick bastard! No man I know would ever let that happen to his daughter! They would rather die!”
“It would have happened eventually, Greg,” he said, backing up against the desk. “Nothing either one of us would have done could have stopped it. He was determined to get his revenge no matter what. When he wants something, he’ll stop at nothing to get it. And he wanted Jolene, especially once he saw that she had her mother’s eyes.”
“That document you had me sign the weekend of Angie’s birthday… That wasn’t for rehab, was it?” Greg asked, his voice shaking. “No wonder they didn’t have the intake form on file when I checked in. That was…”
Mark nodded his head slowly, recalling the part he was forced to play. “I didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t an official document. He just needed something to convince Jolene to go with him.”
“You…”
“Please, Greg,” he interrupted. “Put the gun down. You don’t want to do this. Killing me won’t make you feel better.”
Greg’s expression grew manic. “Oh, no! I do! It will absolutely make me feel better!” He released the safety. “You deserve to die a thousand deaths for what you did!” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, summoning the strength to kill his best friend. Could he really do this? Angie’s brilliant blue eyes flashed in his memory and he knew that he had to. It was no longer a choice.
As Greg was about to pull the trigger, he heard Mark softly say, “I’m so sorry.” A gunshot sounded and Greg flung his eyes open in response to the sharp pain in his chest. He saw his former partner standing in front of him, a solemn look on his face as he fired his weapon one more time at his stomach. He instinctively grabbed on to his abdomen. Taking several steps back, he collapsed on the ground, guilt overwhelming him for letting Laney down.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
END GAME
“HEY, DOES THIS GUY look familiar to you?” an overweight man asked his associate as he surveyed the security camera footage from the lobby of the hotel, seeing a tall man walk frantically toward the bank of elevators. “I don’t think he’s a celebrity, but I feel as if I should know him from somewhere.”
Ralph turned his attention to the monitors, hating that he had been demoted to work in the security office of the hotel. It wasn’t his fault he never found the girl.
His eyes growing wide, he knew how to get his old job back. “You absolutely should know him from somewhere.” He grabbed the remote and paused the screen, taking a snapshot. “I gotta call the boss.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“MR. BURNHAM,” FALCONI BELLOWED jovially as he approached the poker table.
Alexander’s expression remained calm when he spotted Jolene walking reluctantly beside him, his hand clutched rather firmly around her arm.
“This is my Jolene. You can call her princess. She’s a very special girl to me, and goes for a very special price because of that. But as she appears to be one of the few blonde-haired and blue-eyed girls here, I’ll let you see if she’s what you want.”
Alexander licked his
lips, reminding himself to play the part. Scanning Jolene’s body up and down as if she was merely a piece of meat, he had to control his anger and instinct to snap the neck of every man in that room.
“Princess, would you like to have a seat?” he asked, his voice soft.
She turned her eyes down, remaining locked in place, and refused to respond. She was done playing Falconi’s stupid little games. Every second she was there, her desire to end it all increased little by little. She didn’t care anymore. She meant what she had said. She would rather die than have to live like this for another minute.
Falconi grabbed her by the hair, pulling her into his body. Running his greasy hands over her exposed abdomen, he brought his mouth to her neck. “Play nice, Jo-Jo Bear. If you don’t, you’re no use to me. And you know what I do to girls who have no use to me. Now tell the nice man thank you and ask him if he minds if you sit on his lap.” He pushed her onto her knees.
She cried out in pain from her broken ribs. Alexander refrained from helping her off the ground at first, not wanting Falconi to grow suspicious. Eyeing her frame as she remained on her hands and knees at his feet, he slowly squatted down next to her.
“Jolene…” He brought his lips to her ear, his voice barely audible. “Show no reaction. Keep your eyes lowered. My name’s Alexander and I’m here to help you. I’m a friend of Cam’s. Do not respond. Just act as if I’m any of these other scumbags, okay? You need to sell it, and I do, too. It’s the only way I can get you out.”
Her heart raced as she processed the words that were being whispered into her ear by the attractive man at her side. It sounded too good to be true. Was it just a dream? Would she wake up only to find herself still chained to Falconi’s bed? She prayed that this man was there to follow through on his promise.
