by Style, Linda
“What did the letters say?”
Adam cleared his throat. He was obviously avoiding something.
“I need to know, Adam.”
“Yes, you do,” he said, his voice soft. “It has to be tough not knowing whether the person you love is dead or alive. It’s just that this is truly sensitive information, and if it gets into the wrong hands…”
There it was again. Distrust. “I don’t know what you think I’d do with whatever information is in there, Adam, but I assure you my interest is strictly personal,” she said as she snatched the packet from his hands. “I have two children who need to know if their father is dead or alive. And if you won’t tell me, I’ll read them myself. I need to know.”
He chewed on his bottom lip, watching her. What did he think she’d do, rip them to shreds?
Finally he said, “If you must, at least wear these.” He reached into his pocket and took out the latex gloves, then set them atop the letters in her hands.
She turned her back to him and walked to the end of the window beside the fireplace. Standing there, she put on the gloves and pulled out the most recently dated letter first.
Dear Mom,
This is the letter we talked about before. If you receive this letter, it means that the worst has happened. I know that’s going to be a shock to you, but remember, I knew this could happen from the beginning. The important thing is for you to give the key I sent you to the Los Angeles Police Department. Then you must find someone to go to Mirador to bring my son home. Please take care of him for me or find someone who can.
Jillian’s world started to spin. She reached out to clutch the window ledge and felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders, supporting her from behind. Adam led her back to the couch.
“You okay?” From the look on Jillian’s face, Adam knew she wasn’t. Who could be okay after seeing in his own handwriting evidence of her husband’s duplicity? He’d deceived her for years. The sleazebag had been alive all along, and now, presuming the note wasn’t a fake or something meant to lead the law off track, he was dead.
It made Adam’s job easier in a sense, but gave him little satisfaction. Nothing in his life had been more difficult than seeing the despair in Jillian’s eyes. She’d lost her husband, the man she loved, not once, but twice.
He realized then that her happiness meant more to him than any score he’d wanted to settle. If he could’ve changed her husband into a hero, he would have—just to see her happy.
But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t even soften the blow. The guy was a rat who’d sell his family for a buck. And Jillian was still in love with him.
He crouched down beside her and eased the packet from her fingers. “I don’t think you need to read all these right now.”
“Adam…he was alive all along,” she said incredulously. “He was alive and his mother knew it. I can’t believe it. That’s…it’s…it’s inconceivable that he could simply drop out of our lives as if we meant nothing to him.”
She looked up at Adam. “You knew, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “I suspected, but I didn’t know for sure and I still don’t.” God, he hated saying that.
He hoped to hell she wasn’t going to cling to the hope that her husband was still a good guy, because if Jack Sullivan wasn’t dead— He stopped the thought in motion … because if Sullivan wasn’t fucking dead, he’d want to make him that way so he couldn’t hurt Jillian or her daughter ever again.
“Like I said,” he went on, “I need to have the evidence checked out, because all this—” he gestured at the envelopes in his hand “—could be a ruse to throw off law enforcement officers. Make us think he’s dead. I’d like to take the letters with me, have the DNA done and go from there. That okay with you?”
She nodded. “Well, at least one of us got what we were looking for.”
He felt the bite of her words. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I wish it hadn’t been me.”
“Why? You wanted your proof and you got it. Everything else was just part of the job.” She shook her head. “God, I can’t believe I was so stupid. First with Rob and then…” She ran a hand through her hair and flipped it back over her shoulder and away from her face. She turned away as if she couldn’t even look at him anymore.
“Then what?” But he knew what she meant. She meant that making love with him had been stupid, a mistake. Maybe so. It had been a mistake for him, that was for sure.
Because if he hadn’t, he might not be in love with a woman who was still in love with a dead man. Or if Sullivan wasn’t dead, he might as well be because he was going to spend the rest of his life in jail.
But none of that made Adam feel any better. And it served him right for getting emotionally involved while on the job in the first place.
“Nothing,” she said, her words laced with bitterness. “Take the damn letters. I don’t want to see them again.”
He bowed his head, wishing he could do or say something to make her feel better. Hurt less. But nothing came to him.
When he didn’t respond, she waved him off. “Just go.”
“I’ll go. But not before I talk to Harriet again and find out about that key. Will you come with me?”
Jillian raised her gaze to his; the hurt in her eyes was almost palpable. “I took her to the bank just a few weeks ago so she could put some things in her box. That’s when she must’ve put the last letter in. Maybe the key is there, too?”
Adam shook his head. The key hadn’t been in the box. He reached out to take Jillian into his arms to comfort her. She stiffened, pulled away and shot to her feet. He got up, too, and for a moment, they just stood there, face-to-face.
Then she said, her voice unnaturally calm, “I know you have a job to do, Adam. I know it’s important to you. My problems are my own and I need to deal with them. So you’re right, let’s find out about the key, then you can finish up whatever it is you have to do.”
“And what about you? What will you do?”
She shrugged. “Life goes on. I have a job and two children to raise. If—” her voice cracked “—if something else comes up with all this, I’ll deal with it when I need to. You’ve got my signature on your papers, and all I ask is that you, or someone, let me know the outcome of the DNA testing.”
He nodded. “Of course. I promise. Now, let’s go find out about that key.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ADAM’S ADRENALINE RUSHED AS he handed the search warrant to the bank manager.
They’d found the key in Harriet Sullivan’s jewelry box, but there was no way to know if it was the same key given to her by her son or what it was for. Harriet couldn’t remember.
A couple days of investigation to determine the key came from a California bank, another day to get the warrant, and he was in Chula Vista, a small town just north of Tijuana.
The manager asked him to follow her to the back of the bank, where she unlocked a set of barred doors. She used a master key to pull out a safe-deposit box about two feet long and then led him into another room where he could view the contents in private. When the woman left and closed the door behind her, he pulled on his latex gloves and shoved in the key.
He tensed in anticipation of what he might find. Slowly, he turned the key, and the box clicked open.
Inside was a manilla envelope that contained to CDs, a couple data flashdrives, some photos and a note from Sullivan that said he’d prepared the information as his safety net. There was also a small packet addressed to Jillian Sullivan. The back of Adam’s neck prickled. Even in death this guy had a hold on her.
But he couldn’t think about that. As he read Sullivan’s note and the words slowly hit home, he sank back in his chair.
Stunned. Shocked. Blown away.
He had in his hands all the information needed to take down the leaders of the largest drug cartel, and some major players in the largest crime syndicate, in the Western Hemisphere.
Damn.
But where d
id Bryce fit in? In the message he’d left on Adam’s machine, Bryce had mentioned a covert operation, the biggest ever. He’d also mentioned Manolo.
Bryce’s voice had been frantic, and it’d been hard for Adam to understand half of it. He’d mentioned an organization but Adam didn’t recognize the significance of it at the time. He’d begged Adam to meet him that night. He needed his help. No details beyond that. Adam would’ve dropped everything and gone to meet him if he’d only known in time.
By the time he’d come back from vacation, the funeral had already been planned. Everyone knew before he did. Everyone, dammit. It still galled him that the chief hadn’t called to let him know. So what if he was off trying to save his marriage?
Then he’d only connected Sullivan to Bryce after the photo and letter from Sullivan’s wife number two had come in. Based on the letter, he’d done a search on the police database for Sullivan and discovered the cold-case file. When he’d picked it up, he’d felt as if he’d been whacked in the gut.
On the same night Bryce had died, not far from where he’d asked Adam to meet him, Robert Sullivan’s truck had gone over a cliff and ended up incinerated at the bottom of a ravine. Sullivan’s wife’s photo was in the file, and he remembered the woman he’d seen in the interrogation room the day he’d talked to the captain about the case.
Based on that little bit of information and a hunch, he’d done some digging around, and when he saw the investigation on Bryce had holes as wide as Montana, he knew he was on to something. He just didn’t have all the pieces.
And now, everything he’d been looking for, and more, had fallen into his lap. Like magic. The puzzle was still incomplete—but not for long. He hoped.
On a high he hadn’t felt since his first arrest, Adam picked up the packet to view the photos. He recognized a couple of guys he’d busted before on minor drug charges, as well as several names, big names, which were well-known to law enforcement agencies. Many others were new to him. No surprise, since he hadn’t worked Narc in several years.
But when he reached the last two photos, the faces he saw leaped off the page. Father Martinez. And, more jarring, Bryce.
What the hell? Martinez he could understand, since Adam had gone to the prison and discovered that Martinez’s cellmate had been Manolo’s brother. But Bryce? He was undercover and he’d been murdered because he’d been made. It didn’t make sense that Sullivan had his data along with the others.
Three hours later and still reeling from the impact of what he’d found, Adam was back in L.A. He’d gone home, copied the data, just to be on the safe side, was now at the station barreling into Captain Carlyle’s office.
“Ramsey.” The captain greeted him as if this was like a normal day and Adam hadn’t just found his best friend’s photo lumped in with a powerful and dangerous crime syndicate.
Adam knew he shouldn’t be upset. Bryce had been undercover for a year before he died. So there was an explanation. There had to be.
He slapped the folder on the captain’s desk. “I want to know what this is all about, Jeff.. What the hell is going on?”
The captain weighed two-fifty and stood six-five. His close cropped nappy hair and a badass tattoo that everyone knew was hidden under his shirtsleeve gave him a further aura of menace. If Adam didn’t know the man, he wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.
His boss picked up the folder and drew out the photos. “Where did you get this?” His voice was even, but the hand that held the folder visibly tensed. The other hand was balled into a fist at his side.
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
A muscle in the man’s square jaw twitched. “Leave it alone, Ramsey. It’s not your gig.”
“You’re wrong. If it involves the Sullivan case, it is my gig. If it involves my former partner, I’m involved.”
“You’ve already overstepped your authority by going out of the country without approval.”
“I was on my own time.”
“With a suspect’s wife.”
Adam glanced through the glass at Rico’s desk. “Who told you that?”
“Not your partner. And that’s not the point, anyway. The point is that you need to leave it alone. You’re off the Sullivan case.”
“Just like I was off Bryce’s?”
“If you have a problem with that, stuff it, or I’ll put you on suspension.”
Adam raised a hand for a time out and took a step back. “Okay. I get the picture.”
He swung around to go out, yanked open the door, then stopped. He turned to the captain. “But I can’t leave it alone, Jeff. I’m going to find out what happened to Bryce. Suspend me if you want.” He went to his desk , grabbed his coat, then stormed out the door and down the hall toward the elevator.
He got the picture, all right. He was digging too deep, but into what, he didn’t know. If the captain had said the department had an investigation going that he might screw up, that was one thing.
But this, he didn’t understand at all. Hell, the guy should’ve been grateful for the information. Instead, he’d told him to butt out. It didn’t make sense.
Just as he was stepping into the elevator, two suits came up behind him and physically directed him down the hall to one of the interrogation rooms. He didn’t recognize either of them, but they had feds all but tattooed on their foreheads.
“What’s going on?”
Captain Carlyle entered the room with Chief MacGuire at his side. Adam glared from one to the other. “Tell me what’s going on, Jeff.” He looked at MacGuire. Chief?”
“We’re having company,” the chief said. “You’ll know soon enough.”
***
Unable to contain her joy at seeing Chloe, Jillian swept her daughter into her arms. “Chloe, sweetie, I missed you so much.”
“Mo-om.” Chloe wiggled from her mother’s tight embrace. “I missed you, too. But we had so much fun, I want to go again next year. For even longer.”
Jillian hugged Dana and Logan, then kissed the top of little Zachary’s head while Hallie struggled to get the boy out of his car seat. “I’m so happy to see everyone. I missed all of you.”
“Yeah, right,” Logan said. “I doubt you had any thoughts of us when you were lying on the beach in Costa Rica.”
“Well, I was busy, that’s for sure.” Jillian had many things to tell them all, but first and foremost was telling Chloe about her brother. That had to be done in private, so she’d asked Patti to watch Bobby for a couple of hours while she got Chloe settled in and gave her the news. She so hoped Chloe would be excited.
Later when Chloe had unpacked, Jillian went to her room and peeked in. Chloe was flopped across the bed with earphones on and mouthing words along with whatever song she was listening to. When she saw Jillian, she smiled and took off the earphones.
Sitting on the bed next to Chloe, Jillian said, “Hey, sweetie. I’ve got some exciting things to tell you.”
Chloe perked up, eyes widening. “You went on a date?”
Jillian couldn’t help but smile. She’d done a lot more than that, but it wasn’t the kind of thing one discussed with one’s eleven-year-old daughter. “No. Something else.” After an uncomfortable moment, she launched into it, why Adam had come to the house, why she’d gone to Costa Rica, but she played down Rob’s part in it, explaining that something bad had happened, forcing him against his will to leave Chicago and his home.
“So he went away but he didn’t want to?”
Jillian nodded. “That’s my belief.”
“And is he really dead?”
“The police believe so. And so do I. In fact, because of that, some other things have come up that I need to tell you about.”
Chloe sat up and crossed her legs. “Hallie and I were talking about our dads, and when I started to talk about mine, I couldn’t remember anything. Just the stuff you’ve told me. I only remember what he looked like because you have pictures of him. It made me really sad. It’s like I never had a
dad.”
Jillian took a deep breath, then gave Chloe a big hug. “You had a father, honey, and he loved you very much. No matter what, you need to remember that. You need to remember him as the wonderful person he was when he was with us. Whatever happened after that happened for a reason. We just don’t know what that reason is.”
“But if he left us like he did, and he wanted to, that’s mean.”
“I can’t imagine that he wanted to, honey. I’m sure there was a really good reason. We have to be positive and not let negative thoughts color our feelings. If we do, then we’ll suffer for it, we’re only hurting ourselves. And so far, I think we’ve done pretty well together, don’t you think?”
Her daughter nodded, but Jillian could tell something was still bothering her. She lifted Chloe’s chin so she could see her eyes. Eyes that brimmed with tears. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Chloe’s chin quivered. “I guess being with Hallie and her mom and dad and little brother made me think about what I’m missing. And now I find out all this other stuff and it makes me feel even worse.”
Jillian’s breath caught in her throat and her heart ached for her little girl. She’d tried to dilute the truth as much as she could, but it hadn’t worked. Now, she realized, if she hadn’t brought Bobby home with her, she wouldn’t have had to explain anything to her daughter and Chloe wouldn’t be feeling like she was.
“I won’t ever have a family like theirs, either, because you won’t get married again.”
“I never said I wouldn’t get married again, did I?”
Chloe shook her head. “But you won’t. You don’t even date.”
Oh, my. Should she say something? Would that make Chloe feel better, give her some hope? She hauled in a long breath. “Well, that’s not exactly true. I did date a little while you were gone.”
And that wasn’t exactly a lie. Dinner with Adam was almost like a date. And certainly making love would have to be considered something.
Chloe’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
Jillian nodded. “Well, sort of.”
Her daughter’s blond eyebrows met in the middle. “Sort of? How can you sort of date?”
