by Tia Louise
I look forward to our meeting.
Signed,
A Friend
Tossing the paper back on the table, I exhale and stand. “Fuck it. I’ll meet him tonight, and I’ll go alone. I’m not worried about any of this. I’m ready to unmask this asshole.”
Stuart’s eyes flick to the clock then back to me. “That gives us two hours to work out a Plan B.”
“I don’t need a Plan B. We’ll follow his Plan A. I’ve handled rats like this before. I’m happy to do it again.”
“At least wear my Kevlar.” He heads to the master bedroom, and I wait, turning his instructions over in my mind. An accomplice.
Star has Cammie in the living room, and we decided they should stay with Stuart and Mariska the rest of the night in case it’s a setup.
My partner’s back with his black vest in hand. “The perfect double-cross would be to pretend he’s after you in order to pull us all away from covering her. Or to lead you out in the open alone.”
“You read my mind, partner.” I pull my black sweater over my head and take the vest from him. Once it’s securely fastened, I restore my top layer and add a lightweight grey blazer.
“I’d feel better having you covered.” Stuart hands me a small pistol I slip in my boot. “I don’t need a gun to end this.”
“You never know how he’ll come at you.” He steps to the door and opens it, and I follow him back to the kitchen. “This fucker didn’t give us any time. If Patrick were closer, we’d have at least one more set of eyes.”
“I give our friend credit. He’s bringing you two together in a way I never could.”
“Extra muscle is always helpful in situations like this. Regardless of whether I agree with him.”
Clapping Stuart on the shoulder, I head for the exit. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
* * *
The Palomino bar is adjacent to one of the nicer steak houses in town. The main bar is large and traditional. Wooden booths line the perimeter and a matching bar is located in the center of the room. A layer of tall tables with high chairs ring the space between the two, and it’s all shiny brass and low lighting. Off to the side is the dim-lit martini bar where I’m looking for an asshole with a Gibson. And a gat.
It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the change in lighting. For a Thursday night, it’s pretty deserted, but it’s early.
A couple sits in one corner leaning close together. The female holds a pink martini, a cosmopolitan, I’d bet. Her date has something with a curled lemon peel slivered in it. Lemon drop. A table of three women is across from them, but again, pink drinks. Finally my eyes land on a patron in the very back, dead center of the room. I can’t make out the face. Whoever it is has leaned out of the light, but on the table directly in front of him or her is a martini glass containing clear alcohol. In the bottom middle of the crystal is a small, white onion on a toothpick. Our “Friend.”
Without hesitation, I walk straight to where he or she is sitting and stop, waiting for the snake to slither into the light. When it finally does, I’m momentarily winded. I have to take a step back.
“Bennett?” Confusion lines my face as I recognize the contract private investigator I’ve worked with for years. I’ve trusted him on several cases, and he’s been my right hand tracking subjects in remote locations. The last time we worked together was... last year. He kept an eye on Sloan for me in Baltimore when I was in Wilmington with Melissa. Anger mixed with betrayal fires in my chest. I’m ready to kill this guy, but for the moment, he has the upper hand.
“Derek Alexander.” He leans forward, placing his elbows on the table and giving me a sick grin.
“Robert.” I pull out the chair across from him and sit. “I confess, I’m surprised. You’re better at your job than I gave you credit for.”
His eyes narrow before they travel over my torso. “Credit is hard to come by in your business, Mr. Alexander.”
“The bird in the hand is always preferable to theories and promises.”
He exhales a short laugh. “You’re so fucking smooth. You with your suit and tie, your fancy car, your ultimate bachelor pad, and sexy-assed fiancée.”
My fist tightens. “A smart guy would keep his thoughts about Melissa to himself.”
“Or what?” He leans back and really laughs. “You’ll kick my ass? She’s not even yours anymore.”
I meet his ice-blue stare. “I’ll break your neck.”
He takes a long sip of the Gibson in front of him. “Your preferred method of disposal.” A pause as he evaluates my response. “Such a rookie mistake, losing control like that. You honestly thought no one would find out? I’m disappointed.”
“The feeling is mutual.” The waitress puts a short glass of scotch in front of me and sashays off again.
Lifting the toothpick, he slips the tiny onion into his mouth. “Even more disappointing. I gave you the perfect setup. That hot piece of ass right in your condo. You never even fucked her, and I hear she gives a hell of a hummer.”
“You’re talking about Star?” My eyes narrow. “Is she in on this?”
He shakes his head and frowns. “I’m no amateur. All she could talk about in Baltimore was how you believed in her. It was pathetic, and I fucking thought after the way she played your partner—”
“You asked her to help you?”
His cold gaze lands on mine. “Of course not. I knew she’d never turn on you. She’s too in love with you.” A disgusted noise, and he takes another sip.
I’ve heard enough. “What do you want, Bennett?”
“My letter was perfectly clear,” he says with a smirk. “I want you, big guy.”
Leaning back, I shove my drink forward. “What the fuck? I’m not gay.”
“HA!” He says loudly, leaning forward in mock laughter. “Your ego is only outsized by your stupidity.” Straightening, all traces of his smile disappear. “I want you taking a dose of your own medicine.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Let’s see... You’re Mister Alexander, fucking American hero, fucking top in your field, fucking paragon of truth and virtue. Am I right? Or do I exaggerate?”
“You exaggerate.”
“Maybe, but you do blaze in like the scales of justice ready to put anyone away, ruin his life, without a shred of mercy.”
Studying his face, I remember the last letter. Revenge is a dish best served cold. “You said you wanted revenge. What have I ever done to you?”
He’s collected again, running his finger around the lip of his now-empty martini glass. “Do you happen to remember a young man named Shane?”
Filtering through my memory, I come back with nothing. “No.”
His head moves slowly side to side. “You wouldn’t. You only knew him as Slayer. Slayer Bennett.”
Lightning flashes behind my eyes, but I remain cool. “You’re related to Slayde?
“You might say that.” He exhales a chuckle and signals the waitress. “You might say I’m the reason he exists.”
Another Gibson is placed in front of him, and we both wait until the young, tattooed lady is gone again.
More than any other, that court case is etched in my memory. I remember what they said about Slayde’s father.
“Are you pretending to care?” I evaluate the fucker sitting before me. “The court psychiatrist said you beat him regularly within an inch of his life.”
“I didn’t know about that.” Staring into the drink, his voice drops, and for the first time, he doesn’t come off as a raving fucking lunatic. “Shane doesn’t know I’m his real dad.” Bennett’s eyes slide closed. “His mother was the most beautiful woman...”
“So you abandoned him.” My empathy for this guy evaporates as quickly as it tried to appear.
“It wasn’t like that. Mary pushed me away.” He shakes his head. “When she got sick, she said it was God’s judgment for violating her marriage bed.”
“Sounds like Slayde’s
had a lot of crazy to overcome in his life.” I take a long drink of scotch.
“But you knew the hell he survived. You had all the evidence. The psychiatrist said he had intermittent explosive disorder. They tried to reduce his sentence. But you wouldn’t let them. You had no mercy.”
Glancing away, I can’t help admitting I still have a problem with that diagnosis. At the same time, I can relate to a father’s concern for his son. I have Dex, after all. “So what? You want revenge because I did my job?”
His crazy returns with his rage. “You wouldn’t stop until you finished him. He was destined to be a boxing legend, and you took it all away.” His voice is a breathy growl. “Look at you. You’re no better than him. You fucking hypocrite.”
Quiet settles over the table. I think about his words, that case. “I was a lot harder then. I’d just lost Allison—”
“Save the sob story. It’s time for payback, and you know the saying. She’s a bitch.”
“You want money?”
“Fuck no!” A spate of real laughter erupts from him now. “I want you to lose everything. I want your ass in prison, rotting away just like my kid’s.”
My brow lines. “You know he’s out, right?”
“He’s a fucking janitor. A nobody living in a shit town.”
With an exhale, I lean back. “I don’t know what to tell you. It was the right thing to do at the time. Slayde’s paid his debt, and from what I understand, he’s happy now.”
“What the fuck do you know about his happiness?” Bennett shoves his glass forward. “I’ve been watching, waiting for the great Derek Alexander to slip up, and boy, did you ever.”
“You want me to go to prison.” I nod, looking at my glass. “What’s your plan for making that happen?”
“Easy. You have two choices. The whore goes to prison or you do.” He leans back, a calm smile crossing his lips. “What’s it going to be, hero?”
Ice settles in my stomach. He’s prepared for this. He’s crazy like a fox, and he’s left me no options. “That will satisfy you?”
“Watching you clean shit off of fucking toilets just like my boy had to? You bet your ass.” He leans forward and his voice becomes a hiss. “I’ll be fucking jerking all over your fucking photograph.”
The image forces a grimace. “Turn myself in.”
“You’ve got twenty-four hours, Big Guy.” The smile on his face is testing my ability to not snap him like a toothpick. “I know that look. You touch me, you seal her fate. My accomplice has everything she needs to put Star away for life should anything happen to me.”
Standing, he shoves his chair in. “I’m listening to the wire. By this time tomorrow, your ass had better be in a cell.”
Sitting back, I watch him walk out of the bar. For the moment, it appears my former PI has the upper hand. I’m not sure how we’re going to resolve this, but I have to talk with Stuart and Patrick. Then I have to call the Maryland State Police Department.
Chapter 11: Old Friends
Melissa
Stuart paces the office, his fists clenched as hard as his jaw as he shouts into the phone. “Derek is not a fucking flight risk. He turned himself in for Chrissake. I can’t believe this bullshit.”
I’d spent a restless night at the condo, sleeping alone in Derek’s king sized bed, worrying, praying for his safety in Baltimore central lockup. Star was in the guest room with her daughter Camille. It was the first time we’d ever met, but she was demure. Shy and apologetic. Her daughter was beautiful.
Now I’m back at the office with Stuart, and the two of us are trying to think of any way to shorten Derek’s stay, to prevent this from going any further. I watch Stuart talking to Patrick.
“We need your ass here now.” Silence as he listens to his brother. “Because I can’t fucking keep my eye on everyone alone.”
My eyebrows rise. I can’t help wondering what might happen with these two in the same room and Derek gone. Bolt down the furniture.
Stuart ends the call and turns to me. “How you holding up? Need anything?”
Shaking my head, I look down at Derek’s desk. “I need him home.”
“We all need that¸” he says through an exhale.
Just then, Nikki scampers into the room. Her eyes are red as if she’s been crying, and she holds a brown envelope. I smile at her, glad she’s stuck around. Having to find and train a new assistant would not be ideal at the moment.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Her voice is high and quiet.
“It’s okay,” I say. “What do you need, hun?”
“I just wondered if Mr. Alexander... If Derek still needs me to mail these files for him.”
“What files?” Stuart growls and doesn’t make eye contact.
She’s flustered and holds them out. I notice the tremor in her hand. “Bennett? His old PI said it was for a case he handled. He said it should go to the police department in Maryland.”
“What the FUCK?” Stuart explodes at her, and her eyes widen suddenly before she drops the papers on Derek’s desk and runs out the door.
He’s right behind her. “You’re Bennett’s accomplice?”
I jump out of the chair and run after them. Nikki’s behind her desk, tears streaming from her eyes in black lines. “I don’t know what you mean!” She wails, but Stuart’s not stopping.
He rounds the desk and grabs her by the upper arms, shouting in her face. “How long have you been working with that fucker?”
“I don’t know!” She’s crying harder, her face an ugly red mask. “Two years? H-however long Mr... Derek’s used him!”
Stuart’s face is flushed, and I jump between them. “Hang on!” I shout. “Stuart, stop! Let her go!”
He shoves her back, and I catch her arms. “Nikki, what do you know about Robert Bennett?”
She’s shaking and grabbing fistfuls of tissues out of the box on her desk. “He’s a contract PI,” she sniffs, hands shaking as she wipes her face. “He does jobs for Derek here in town. Not as much in the last year, but—”
“Oh my god,” I exhale, leaning heavily against her desk. “He knew all our weaknesses. His accomplice was right under our nose and didn’t even know it.”
Stuart’s still fuming, but I can see he’s slowly getting on the same page as me. “You didn’t know what was in that envelope?”
Nikki’s white-blonde head shakes rapidly. “I never look in his files. Derek said they were confidential. I only type up the reports he specifically gives me.”
Going back to Derek’s office, I scoop up the sealed brown envelope and rip it open. Out drops a photograph and a pair of black lace panties. Digging inside, I pull out the letter that details who Star is, her connection to the murder of Sloan Reynolds, and the address to Derek’s condo in Princeton.
“God... freaking... Stuart!” I shout, and in less than a moment he’s back with me. “He knew Nikki would mail this without question. She only asked because of the arrest.”
Stuart picks up the letter and reads it briefly before glancing at the photograph and the panties. “Are those—?”
“Only one person can say for sure.” I pick up the black thong by an edge of lace and drop it back in the envelope. “It’s probably got both their DNA all over it.”
“A pleasant thought.”
“Tell me about it.” We exchange a glance, but it’s cut short by both the reality of what’s happening and the immediacy of what’s out front.
Nikki is crying at her desk, and I spin on my heel, heading for the reception area. When I get there, she’s packing her stuff.
“Nikki!” I round the corner and catch her hands. “Wait. Please.”
“I can’t stay another day here.” She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all spoiled. I’m nothing but a problem now.”
“It’s not true,” I urge, trying to find the words. “We need you right now, Nikki. It’s a crisis situation. We don’t have time to find a new receptionist.”
�
��No,” she sniffs, touching her face with a tissue. “I’m constantly fucking up everything. I’m a weakness just like you said.”
“Patrick will be here tomorrow. Won’t you at least wait and see him?”
Another sniff, and she considers what I’ve said.
“Patrick’s your friend,” I continue. “Why don’t you take off this afternoon, and come in Monday when he’s back.”
She blinks up at me, and I smile. Leaning forward, I give her a hug. “We need you Nik. You’re part of the team.”
“The weakest link,” she sniffs.
“Not true. You care about Derek, right?”
She nods but doesn’t answer. I watch her dab her eyes more.
“That’s what matters most. We’re all here for him now.” Smiling, I hold her hand. “Now you know to be extra vigilant. Anything unusual, run it past Stuart, okay?”
Her eyes flicker to the office where he remained behind. “I’d rather not,” she says quietly.
“Okay, then run it past Patrick. He’s your guy. Right?”
A wobbly breath and she nods. “Okay.”
Releasing her arms, I head back into the office where Stuart is. I’m not crying, and I’m not fainting. I’m ready to find a solution. My Macbook is on Derek’s desk now, and I stare at the screen thinking.
“What are we going to do?” I say.
He walks over to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick textbook. “We have to think like a lawyer. Our biggest problem is he confessed to the crime. We have to build a defense, find some precedent we can use...”
My mind immediately goes to a person I haven’t seen in years. “I’ve got this.” Sliding my finger across the touch pad, I log into my airline account. “I’m flying to Chicago.”
Stuart doesn’t even question. “I’ll see if there’s any way to sway the prosecution. I’ve been out of the game a while, but maybe I still know somebody in the Maryland PD.”
“Go for it. Patrick will be here tomorrow.” Looking up, I see Nikki preparing to leave. “Nikki! Would you set up the phones before you go? We’re closing the office for the rest of the day.”
