by S. E. Lund
"If you think so."
Graham's phone went to voice mail, so I left a message for him to call me as soon as he could.
Then, I dialed my Aunt Diane's number. She answered on the second ring.
"Hi, Auntie," I said, my voice a bit emotional. "Have you heard the news?"
"No," she said, sounding confused. "What news? I've been in the darkroom all morning. What is it? Is your mom okay? Is Graham worse?"
"No, they’re both okay. Spencer's dead. He was shot. That's all I know."
"Oh, thank God," she said and I was shocked to hear her say that. "I mean, I was worried that your mom overdosed or Graham had a complication. So, Spencer's dead? I have to tell you I'm not sad that the bastard is finally gone."
"My thoughts exactly," I said, glad to know that she felt the same way I did.
"God forgive me for saying that, but I hated that bastard right from the start. I tried to tell your mother to leave him but she was so unable to do anything to help herself."
"I know. Listen, speaking of which, can Mom come and stay with you for a few days until we can find some care for her? I can't stay here and she needs help."
"Why can't you stay with her, hun?"
I hesitated. How could I explain things? There's a Russian mobster who thinks I'm juicy bait to ensnare my gangster lover…
I couldn't tell her the whole truth.
"I can't tell you now, but I have good reasons."
She hesitated, but then I heard her sigh. "Of course she can come and stay with me. She's my sister. She can sleep in the spare bedroom."
"Good," I said. "Thank you. We'll bring her over after the detectives come and we can get her things together."
We said goodbye and then I turned to my mother, who sat watching me expectantly.
"You'll go and stay with Aunt Diane until we can get someone to come and stay with you."
She nodded. "I'm sorry about all this. I just don't know what to do…"
I put my arm around her and hugged her more tightly.
"Don't worry about anything," I said, kissing her cheek. "I'll make sure you're taken care of."
I glanced at Amy, who sat watching, an expression of sympathy in her eyes.
About ten minutes later, Graham finally called.
"He's dead?" Graham said, his voice shocked.
"Yes," I replied. "Shot twice. He was in Alexandria. That's all I know."
There was silence on the other line for a moment. "Well, I can't say I'm unhappy. I know mom will be devastated but really? I'm glad the bastard's dead."
"I know," I said, unable to disagree. "I'll come by later once I get mom settled at Aunt Diane's."
"Okay," he said and we ended the call.
Two detectives arrived about fifteen minutes later. The older man – balding, a paunch barely hidden by his suit jacket, his face red from exertion – introduced himself as Detective O'Grady and his partner as Detective Álvaro. I doubted either man could pass a fitness test, but hoped they were good investigators.
"We think your husband's death was foul play," he said, his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to look in her eyes. "Preliminary analysis suggests he was shot in the head with a high-powered rifle. Another bullet hit him in the chest. He died instantly and suffered no pain."
I grimaced. I watched enough CSI to know that a high-powered rifle was a sniper rifle. That suggested this was not some random murder, or even a robbery gone wrong. It didn’t sound like an ex-military former MMA fighter gone nuts and beating him to death in anger. It was deliberate. Two shots? One in the head and one in the chest?
He'd been terminated.
"Is there anyone you can think of who might have had a personal grudge against your husband?" O'Grady asked, his voice calm.
"He was the DA and made a lot of enemies," my mother said. "I have no idea who might want to kill him but he was on the trail of some big Russian mobsters. They're known for being barbaric against their enemies. Spencer always knew he was a target, but he was usually so careful…"
My mother covered her eyes and wept for a moment. The rest of us were silent while she regained her composure.
"The murder took place in a relatively isolated part of Alexandria along the waterfront – a mostly residential part of the city and not much traffic. We've done a preliminary canvas of the area, but so far we have no witnesses and no suspects."
The detectives filled us in on what would happen next – a full autopsy to determine the exact time and cause of death and confirm ballistics, and then his body would be turned over to whatever funeral home we requested. O’Grady promised to keep in touch as the case progressed.
The detectives showed themselves out and then sat looking at each other.
"Are you okay to be going anywhere?" I asked. "We could stay here for a while if you want a shower or anything."
My mother shook her head. "I'm too sick," she said and I knew that she needed some of her morphine to fight the pain. She rustled through her bag and took out a pill for the breakthrough pain, swallowing it and lying back on the sofa.
Amy and I gathered up my mother's personal items – her meds, her makeup and toothbrush, as well as some clothes – and then we snuck her out the back way and into the waiting SUV. James had taken a circuitous route through the neighborhood to try to escape notice by the press, who were still outside the house on the street. Once she was in her seat and I'd fastened the belt for her, we drove to my Aunt Diane's house. Amy and James helped me get her inside, and we sat and had a cup of tea and talked about the whole business.
By the time my mom was lying on the bed in the spare bedroom, drowsy from the breakthrough does she'd taken to help manage her pain from all the activity. I was tired and ready for some food. I said goodbye to my aunt and the three of us left.
"Can we stop and get something to eat? Then can you take me to the hospital so I can see Graham? I told him I'd come by and see him tonight."
James nodded and we went for some McDonald's. I was so exhausted I could barely think. We dropped Amy off at the dorm with her bag of food and then James and I drove to the hospital. In the entire day, I hadn't received one text or call from Hunter. I was afraid of what I might hear when I did.
Had he killed Spencer?
We arrived at Mass Gen and I went in, finding Graham alone in his room. He was waiting for me, his expression almost gleeful.
"So, the old bastard's dead, is he?"
Graham's expression said it all. He didn't break down and cry. Neither did I, of course. I would have liked to high-five someone, but my fear that Hunter had killed Spencer stopped me from celebrating. How could Graham and I not be happy to hear Spencer had died? He'd been a bastard to us from the start.
I hated him.
Now he was gone and maybe, finally, my mother would get better.
"He's dead. Shot in the head and chest."
"Good, " Graham said. "Did Hunter killed him?"
I shook my head. "Why would you ask?"
Graham shrugged. "He's the logical suspect."
"I can't believe he'd killed Spencer." I said it, but doubt was starting to creep in. He'd said he wanted to kill Spencer. He had a motive – revenge against Spencer for the arrest of Donny and Sean's death.
Did he do it?
I felt slightly sick to my stomach, mostly due to my fear that if he had killed Spencer, I wouldn't see him again outside of prison for a long, long time.
I spend about half an hour with Graham and then, when I yawned for the fourth time, he waved at me.
"Go home," he said. "I'm tired and you're tired. We can talk tomorrow."
I gave him a kiss and then trudged out to the waiting SUV. We drove through the dark Boston streets to the safe house, and I was so exhausted I didn’t even try to make polite conversation with James.
I felt sick as I trudged up the stairs to the building entrance and James keyed in the entry code.
When I got to the third floor, George was there to greet me.
"Where's Hunter? I've tried to get in touch with him all day. Have you talked to him?"
He shook his head quickly. "No. He has not answered my calls."
"Do you think something happened?" I asked, a surge of adrenaline flowing through me. "He always gets back to me quickly. I haven't received a text from him all day."
George held up his hands. "I'm sure is okay. Probably just had trouble with cell phone. Don't worry."
I plopped down in front of the television, feeling like a dark cloud was hanging over my head.
I couldn’t get it out of my mind that Hunter had killed Spencer in a fit of rage. He'd been so mad when he saw my neck.
I ate my McDonald's, but by that time my stomach was a bit sick from worry. Now that I knew my mother was safe at Aunt Diane's, I had to start worrying about Hunter.
Why hadn’t he called?
Where was he?
I went to bed after having a warm bath, thinking of the last time I’d spent with Hunter and how pleasurable it had been. I wanted him to open the door and poke his head in. I wanted to see that gleam in his eye.
Most of all, I wanted to know he was safe.
My stepfather was dead – murdered. My lover – such as he was – was missing and hadn't contacted me for more than twelve hours, which was so unlike him.
I went to bed, tossing and turning for several hours, worrying that something bad had happened and I'd find out the next morning that he'd been arrested. Abducted.
Or worse.
Chapter 3
Celia
I woke in the middle of the night to sounds in the apartment, and a light flicking on over George’s desk, where he sat hunched over his laptop. He was speaking into a microphone in Russian, his words sounding angry.
I sat up in bed and watched as George closed his laptop and came over to my bed.
"I hear from Hunter's lawyer. Hunter was taken in by police earlier in evening."
Adrenaline coursed through me once more and my heart pounded. "Do they think he killed Spencer?"
George nodded. "Yes. But I know he did not. He would not, Celia. That I know for true."
"He was really angry when he saw my neck," I said doubtfully. "He even said he wanted to kill Spencer."
George shrugged. "He says many things in anger, but he is soldier. Special Operations Forces. Hunter does not lose control."
"I hope you're right," I said and sighed. "At least we know he's alive. I was afraid someone killed him."
George nodded and rubbed his forehead. "He is alive. You go to sleep, now, Celia. You have had big shock. You need rest."
"I can't sleep," I said and wrapped my arms around my knees. "What time is it?" I glanced over to the bedside table and saw that it was three o'clock in the morning.
"When did they take him in? Has he been in custody all day?"
"I don’t know. They arrest him in Alexandria. That's all I know."
Oh, God… Hunter was arrested in Alexandria? That's where Spencer was murdered. It had to mean only one thing – Hunter killed Spencer.
"Spencer was killed in Alexandria."
"Hunter is not killer, Celia."
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling sick that Hunter might have killed Spencer because he saw my injuries. "I hope he's okay."
"He will be fine," George said, nodding. "He is strong. Tough. You'll see. Lawyer will get him out and he will be home soon."
I lay back down when George left and tried to sleep, but it was a losing venture. Finally, I took out my cell and checked my texts one more time.
There was nothing from Hunter, of course. It was too early to text Amy so I spent an hour searching on Google for news about Spencer. Much was made of the fact he was supposedly investigating the Russian mob. Political pundits talked about his work prosecuting thugs in the mafia.
A reporter claimed that someone identified as a 'close family friend' said Spencer was targeted by the mafia. Who was that? I had no idea who the 'close family friend' was.
Was that the case? Spencer had brought in Hunter's uncle and charged him with several offenses under RICO. The Irish mafia, the Russian mafia, the Italian mafia…
I hoped that Hunter hadn't gotten any more mixed up in it than he claimed – just providing security for them, legitimate work.
Finally, an hour before dawn, I got up and had a shower, deciding that since I couldn't to sleep, I might as well start my day. After drying off and dressing, I went to the kitchen to pour myself some juice and think about what to eat. The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon; its warm orange glow reflecting off the water in the bay. It was beautiful, and I could have appreciated it, if only I’d known what was going on with Hunter.
I couldn't stop thinking about him, wondering if he really had killed Spencer. I would never have thought it possible, but he was so angry…
I'd seen the results of his anger before in the broken and bruised skin on his knuckles after he beat up Stepan. He hated Spencer so much more than he did Stepan. What if he'd lost control? George didn't think it was possible, but Hunter hated Spencer was almost as I did.
I spent the early part of the morning reading over journal articles and trying to distract myself from thoughts of Hunter, wondering when he'd finally call. At about ten, I called over to my Aunt Diane's to see how my mother was doing.
"She slept like a baby," Aunt Diane said softly. "She seems oblivious, frankly. I think she needs to have her meds checked and maybe the levels adjusted. She's on a pretty high dose."
"I know," I said and chewed a fingernail, feeling guilty that I hadn’t paid more attention to her over the past few years. "She becomes tolerant to the smaller doses, so they keep having to up the amount. I want her to cut back, but she says she can't tolerate the pain. What can you do?"
"She's a pain patient. For them, they're sometimes just as dependent on the thought of taking the drug as they are the drug itself. They structure their entire lives around the pain and it controls their every thought. She needs therapy, Celia."
I sighed. "I know. When this all settles down, we can talk with her, but she's resistant. Maybe now without Spencer around, we can get her to consider going into the hospital to get her meds adjusted."
"It's a deal. Once things are calmer, we'll have a family discussion. Speaking of family, how's Graham doing? He must be going insane stuck in the hospital for his rehab."
"I saw him last night, but I feel guilty I haven't visited as much as I'd like. He's doing well enough, getting better."
"That's good," she said, her voice sympathetic. "You can't be expected to do everything."
"I'll go over this morning and see him."
"Okay, sweetheart," she said. "You give him my love and tell him I'll drop in to see him later today when I know your mom is sleeping."
As we ended the call, George came over to my office space.
"How are you, Miss Celia?"
"I hardly slept. Did you hear from Hunter yet?"
He shook his head. "His lawyer calls me. Hunter is fine but is probably not going to get out for few days. Preliminary hearing is tomorrow so he stays in jail until then."
"What's the charge?"
"First degree murder," George said, and made a face. "So no bail."
"Do they really think he killed Spencer?"
George shrugged. "They must, but I know Hunter. He didn't kill."
"I hope you’re right," I said and finished packing my book bag. "Can you ask if James can take me to see my brother at the hospital? Then I have to go to class."
"Sure," George said and left me in my little cubbyhole of an office. I checked my email once more and found one from Hunter's lawyer, a Frank McNeal, with McNeal Crowe and Torrance, Attorneys at Law.
Ms. Franklin,
Hunter asked me to contact you on his behalf. He is currently remanded in custody at the county jail and will remain there until a grand jury is convened to determine if there is enough evidence to move forward with the case.
If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. If you would like to visit, I can arrange it but Hunter is only entitled to three visits a week and I know his father wants to visit as well. Let me know.
Yours truly,
F. J. McNeal, J.D.
I sent him back an email immediately:
Dear Mr. McNeal,
Thank you for writing me. Please arrange a visit as soon as you can. Thank you.
Celia Franklin
I went over to George's office. "I got an email from Hunter's lawyer. He'll be in custody until a grand jury is convened to consider the evidence. I asked him to arrange a visit so I can see Hunter."
"Oh, that's good," George said, obviously upset. "Hunter will be happy to see you. I get James to take you."
"Thanks. I'll let you know when I go."
He nodded and opened the door for me. I made my way down the stairs to the main floor where James was waiting with the SUV.
Chapter 4
Hunter
While I watched the stars twinkling in the vast expanse of sky overhead, I got a text from Millar, my contact in the FBI.
MILLAR: You up?
HUNTER: Yes.
MILLAR: Can we meet? There's some movement on that matter you and I discussed earlier about Alexandria. My contact in the Crimes Against Children Unit called me and needs to talk with you.
HUNTER: At this time of night? Don't you FBI types sleep?
MILLAR: The task force never sleeps because these creeps come out at night.
HUNTER: Sure, I can meet you. Our usual place?
MILLAR: No. There's a warehouse down by the old docks. We can spend some time going over things. Meet me in thirty minutes.
I checked my watch. It was three o'clock in the morning. I had enough time to get to the gym, have a shower in the apartment, and make it to the waterfront in time to meet Millar if I hurried.
HUNTER: Okay. I'll be there as soon as possible.
