The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 1-3: Redemption Thriller Series 7-9 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  “That’s an expensive strategy.”

  “Are you serious? A few thousand bucks to him is like a dime to me and you.”

  He had a point. “But with her trying to sell off Emma, wouldn’t he have enough pull to divorce her and get full custody and not go to all of this trouble to control her?” I wondered if watching Cheryl fall off the wagon so many times had allowed bitterness to blur Pudge’s objectivity.

  “I questioned the same thing,” he said as we pulled up next to the tank for the killer whales. “I could only talk to Cheryl briefly, because they were controlling her phone calls. She had to pay off some orderly to give her five minutes on the phone with me. But I got the feeling she had a lot more to share than asking me to just watch after Emma.”

  I saw a trainer working with a whale in the enormous tank of water. We were so close that I could see the sun’s rays glinting off the sharp teeth of the whale.

  While I tried not to draw a direct correlation between what I was watching and thinking—the natural instincts of a killer whale versus someone like Dillon, a possible natural-born predator—I knew that Pudge’s insight had enhanced my perspective on this entire situation. Which only led to more questions.

  I had to figure out how to get access to Cheryl Burchfield.

  I parted ways with Pudge and headed for Burchfield Manor, kicking around exactly how much of this I should share with Stan.

  23

  Emma pulled away from my hand and ran across the back patio to her play area, a playground that I might see at a private school. It contained a jungle gym, slide, and swings. Three-dimensional, animated movie characters were also positioned around the area. I walked in her direction, but kept one eye on Stan, who stood near where Dillon had been shot by the pool. He, along with Moreno, were nodding a lot, as Herbert Ross seemed to be in full-on preacher mode. I had no clue if he was sharing the details around Claudio Belsito’s threats to Dillon—and the implication that he could be behind the attempted murder—or if he was simply bragging about his latest Bentley purchase. Saul stood nearby while Zeke was positioned just behind them looking at his phone, then talking into his Bluetooth earpiece, most likely to his security team.

  Stan signaled to me with a raised hand that he’d seen me. I assumed he’d walk over once they were done. I turned to see Emma at the top of kiddie slide, the sky behind her filled with cotton-ball clouds that were helping to keep the temperature below a hundred degrees.

  “Watch me, Ivy Nash,” she said with her hands clutching either side. “Watch how fast I can go.”

  Not wanting to take a chance on an injury, I jogged across a bed of woodchips and reached the bottom of the slide just as she pushed off from the top. She yelled, “Whee!” as she leaned into the curve, but her speed was nothing to fret over. She slid to a stop three feet before the end of the slide.

  “No fair,” she said, crawling off the slide. “Daddy always puts stuff on the slide to slow me down. But I want to go fast, like one of his rocket ships.”

  She walked up to a plastic figure of Buzz Lightyear and touched the jetpack on his back. “This is what I really want, a rocket on my back, so I can fly through the air.” She spread her arms and spun around in circles while making engine sounds.

  I laughed. “Should we tell airplanes in the area to move out of the way because Emma is about to take off?”

  “Come on, Ivy Nash. Fly with meeeee.” She whirled around Buzz and then zoomed past me.

  I had no modesty. I spread out my arms, revved up my own imaginary engine, and caught up to Emma. We flew around Cinderella and Shrek, then tilted our wings to cut in between two swings. Then we zoomed around the outer edge of the play area, occasionally dipping inside to say hello to one of the movie-character friends. Just as we approached the slide, she came to a jump stop. I had to veer right to avoid tripping over her.

  “Why’d you stop, Emma?” Breathing heavily, I turned to face her, pushing my frizzy blond locks out of my eyes.

  She had a pouty scowl on her face. “I want Daddy to fix my slide.” She stomped a foot to the ground.

  I bent lower. “Sweetie, your daddy is still at the hospital so they can take care of him. He should be home soon.”

  “In ten minutes?”

  Of course, she had no concept of time. “More than that. I’m guessing in the next day or two.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “No fair. I want Daddy here now to fix my slide.”

  “Maybe there’s something I can do, or Cristina.” I gently moved her curly hair out of her face.

  She shook her head. “I just want Daddy to be here, even if he’s working.”

  Of course that would be what she wanted. “Tell you what, Emma, why don’t we give him a call right now?”

  Her little eyes lit up. “That would be cool!”

  I pulled my phone out of my back pocket, found Dillon’s contact information, and tapped the number.

  “Here, here…let me surprise him,” she said, pawing at my phone.

  I lowered to one knee, put the phone on speaker, and held it in between us, hoping he’d answer the call. I didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “Hi there, Ms. Nash.”

  Dillon had picked up. He sounded cheerful enough, although his voice was still a half-octave lower than usual.

  “Hi, Daddy, it’s me, your daughter Emma.”

  “Oh, hi, daughter Emma. How’s my angel doing?”

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “The doctors here are really good, and they say I’m getting better and better. Are you having fun with Ivy?”

  “Yes. We’re pretending to be rocket ships, kind of like Buzz Lightyear.”

  “That’s really cool, Emma. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

  Emma nodded while shuffling her feet. “Did you like the Get Well card I sent you?”

  Crap. I’d forgotten to drop off her card at the hospital.

  “Oh my, Emma, this is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me. Thank you for making this card.”

  After a second of hesitation, I quickly realized that Dillon had fabricated his story so Emma wouldn’t get upset that he hadn’t received her card. A very caring father. Some might say he was simply a very perceptive person.

  “You’re not saying anything, Emma,” Dillon said in a sweet voice, “which tells me your smile is a mile wide.”

  He was right.

  “Oh, Daddy.” She giggled and jumped up and down. I was in the process of moving to a standing position when Emma tugged on my arm to bring the phone down to her level. “Daddy, can you come home and make the swide go faster? It’s really slow now.”

  “That will be the first thing I do when I get home.”

  “When will you be home? Ivy said it will be longer than ten minutes. Maybe thirty minutes?” Her voice pitched higher with each word.

  “The doctor said I can come home in a day or two. I just have to be a good patient and do everything he says.”

  “I’ll help you when you get home, don’t worry,” she said. I smiled at her attempt at the word “worry.” She got it right most of the time, but still struggled with some pronunciations, as most children her age did. It was precious. “Okay, I gotta go now. I need to go get my energy out. Bye.”

  “Bye, angel,” he said.

  Emma ran toward the jungle gym, and I followed, the phone at my ear.

  “Has Emma run off?” he asked.

  I had so much I wanted to confront Dillon about, starting with his motivation for putting his wife in a private rehab facility. Was Pudge’s assertion correct—that it was all about control? Did Cheryl know something that would hurt Dillon’s reputation? As tempting as it was, I knew now wasn’t the time to grill him.

  “Yes,” I said. “She’s climbing all over the jungle gym. She seems pretty fearless. You might have your hands full when she becomes a teenager.”

  He coughed and laughed at the same time. “I don’t want her to grow up, even though I know she�
�ll be an amazing young woman, a visionary entrepreneur.”

  “Like her dad.”

  “I wasn’t going to say it, but if you must…”

  We both laughed, but it quickly dissipated.

  “The nurse just came in and told me I need to get some sleep, but I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for you and Cristina taking care of my little girl. It truly means the world to me.”

  “You’re welcome, Dillon. She’s a jewel.”

  “Just keep her safe until I get home. Hopefully in the next day or two.”

  “You have my word.”

  We ended our call, and I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Stan walking toward me, another man in a gray pinstripe suit matching him stride for stride.

  “Thanks for your patience, Ivy,” Stan said. “I know we need to talk, but I figured we could talk in front of my FBI buddy here.”

  The man had a red tuft of hair and the same beady eyes as Stan. Despite his gaunt frame, he looked like Stan…if Stan had been on a year-long hunger strike.

  The man extended his hand. “Nick Radowski, FBI.”

  24

  From the first words that came out of his mouth, I could tell Nick Radowski was Stan’s cousin. Stan had previously sought Nick’s input on a couple of cases in the past, but never in an official capacity. Not until now, it appeared.

  Stan elbowed his thinner cousin. “Nick here was on a plane the moment after District Attorney Ballard spoke with the FBI suits in DC.” Stan paused, looking to the sky for a moment. “Well, actually our illustrious DA first talked to you-know-who back there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of Ross. “And then he sought help from the FBI.”

  “So Ross actually talked to Ballard about Claudio Belsito?”

  A confirming nod from Stan. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about—Belsito.”

  That was only the beginning of what was on my mind, but I wanted to understand what the cousins knew and where they thought the investigation might go before I told them everything I knew.

  “Do you believe it?” I glanced at both Radowskis.

  “You mean Ross?” Stan said. I nodded, and he continued. “He was giving us the same pitch he gave Ballard earlier. It’s hard to tell with Ross, you know that. He’s a damn good lawyer, which is another way of saying he’s a professional bullshit artist.”

  “You sound like my partner, Stan,” Nick said. “She’s got it out for lawyers. I’m telling you, man. Best agent I’ve worked with, but she’s got no love for that profession.”

  “Ivy got burned by that asshole over there, so maybe we can all form a self-help group,” Stan said, and we all chuckled. Stan’s Brooklyn accent seemed thicker with his cousin around. Or maybe it was his heavy use of sarcasm.

  “My past with Ross has nothing to do with this case,” I said. “For starters, I’m more interested in understanding what Belsito’s involvement might be in this shooting.”

  “Under investigation,” Nick said abruptly, pulling out a notepad.

  I looked at Stan, who then nudged his cousin. “Hey, she’s kind of like one of us, just not officially.”

  Nick’s forehead folded up.

  “I’m serious. We worked together when she was with CPS. Now, she’s got this ECHO company, where they help troubled kids.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Emma, who was still climbing on the jungle gym. I could hear her talking to herself.

  “Her dad’s worth a billion,” Nick said. “She doesn’t seem like a kid who needs the world looking out for her.”

  “Money doesn’t necessarily equate to happiness—or safety, for that matter—and certainly not for a kid who has no comprehension of what a billion dollars means,” I said.

  “Point well taken.” Nick ran a finger inside his collar, glancing up at the sky. The sun had come out in full force. “I can’t deal with this heat. It’s still in the seventies back in Boston,” he said, removing his coat, unbuttoning the top button on his dress shirt.

  “How were you able to get your cousin on this case?” I asked Stan.

  “Not his choice,” Nick interjected. He took a moment to review his notes, then related that one of Belsito’s holdings is a renewable energy company out of Boston. “Our White Collar Squad has been looking into some stuff,” Nick said, apparently still apprehensive in sharing much with me.

  “You’re too much,” Stan said, tapping his cousin’s arm. “Ivy and I got an agreement. She shares everything with me, and I do that same. We got trust.”

  I began to feel guilty for not opening up about Pudge. Not yet. I still had time.

  “I don’t know her. No offense,” Nick said.

  “I’m cool.”

  Stan stared at his cousin.

  “What?”

  “If I say she’s cool, she’s cool,” Stan said with his palms facing skyward.

  “Okay, okay.” Nick checked his notes, then looked me in the eye. “Bribery was the focus of the FBI investigation.”

  “Of whom?”

  “State and federal government officials.”

  “For what?”

  He snickered. “Tax breaks initially. Then the investigation found evidence that connected Belsito’s firm with bribing officials to get government contracts. That led to speculation that they might have bribed government figures in foreign countries. Although our jurisdiction is limited outside of the US.”

  I nodded, taking it all in while turning to watch Emma play by herself. I turned back around and looked at Nick. “Is the FBI thinking that this sniper shooting is connected to the bribery investigation?”

  “Not specifically,” Nick said, shifting his eyes to Stan.

  “Tell her, dammit.”

  He pulled a piece of gum from his suit coat pocket and starting chewing. “An Energy undersecretary was mugged while visiting Boston two weeks ago. His name had already surfaced in our bribery investigation. He’d just met with officials at Leaf, Belsito’s company. We had part of his visit picked up with our audio surveillance. It was heated, and both sides were accusing each other of not following through on their deal. So, that’s when I was pulled in from Violent Crimes.”

  “As soon as Ross hollers about Belsito threatening Dillon, he gets the DA and the FBI to jump,” I said.

  Nick twisted his lips. “We don’t jump as much as search for the facts and determine if there is evidence of a crime committed.”

  I gazed across the property, my eyes finding Emma jumping off the jungle gym and running to the swings. She leaned her torso over the seat of the swing and rocked back and forth.

  “Seems like a sweet girl,” Stan said.

  “She’s adorable, and she really loves her dad. And frankly, he’s great around her,” I said. “Which leads me to my next question.”

  “I won’t even try to guess,” Stan said.

  “Ross mentioned that he had a strategy about talking to you guys.”

  “A strategy,” Nick said. “His client almost lost his life. And from what I understand the shooter could have killed Emma and many other innocent people.”

  “Ivy too,” Stan said.

  Nick looked surprised. “You were at this fancy fundraiser?”

  “I guess I hide my net worth well,” I said, drawing a smile from both men. “Back to my question. Did Ross try to imply that, because Belsito made the threat, not only could he have been behind this shooting, but could he have also set up Dillon on the sexual-assault charge?”

  “We certainly know about the threat. Not to say we’re not taking it seriously. It’s something both Nick and I will dig into, but the timing of Ross telling us this is very odd. He waits until after Dillon’s arrested, even after he’s shot. If it was so damn serious, why not tell us right after Belsito threatened his life?”

  “I wondered the same thing. Was he pressuring you guys to find evidence to release his client?”

  “He was, but my guess is he really hammered that home with Ballard. The DA’s office
would be the one to drop any charges.”

  I could hear Emma’s giggles from behind me, and I took a another peek at her. She was off in her own world, one she was sharing with Shrek and her imaginary friends. As I turned back, Stan looked to the ground.

  “Now you’re not telling me something,” I said.

  “Yeah, Stan, you can’t have it both ways,” Nick chimed in.

  Stan pulled a candy bar out of his pocket, tore the wrapper, and took a bite. “This is extremely confidential.”

  I flicked my fingers, even more eager to hear what he had to say.

  “We’ve got our hands on a piece of video that appears to show Dillon dropping something in the victim’s drink.”

  I didn’t blink. “Does Ross know this?”

  “He does, but from what I’ve heard, he brushed it off like it was nothing.”

  “Like a good lawyer,” Nick said.

  “Like a sleazy one,” I added.

  Nick shrugged his bony shoulders.

  “Hey, you never told me how you lost so much weight,” Stan said to his cousin, devouring another chunk of his candy bar.

  Nick laughed so hard his pale face turned red. “Wow, Stan, even after all these years, you crack me up.”

  Stan grimaced.

  Nick pulled the piece of gum from his mouth and held it up. “I chew on this instead of that,” he said, pointing at the candy bar and grinning.

  If we weren’t dealing with murder and mayhem, I could have a lot of fun hanging with the Radowski cousins.

  25

  It was close to midnight, and I stared out the window of Dillon’s office as a steady rain drenched the backyard. Emma was fast asleep, and Cristina was curled up on the couch, a random TV show playing as she read from her phone. After attributing her black eye to breaking up a fight at a shelter, she shut off almost all communication with anyone over the age of four. I didn’t bother asking about the scrapes on her face that had become more visible throughout the day. What was the point when she was in one of her funks?

  With so many landscape lights shining from the trees, it made the raindrops seem fake, as if I were watching a Hollywood movie set. A yawn escaped my lips as I turned around and scanned Dillon’s office, lifting my eyes to the door every few seconds to ensure I wasn’t being watched. Zeke and two of his men were roaming the property to hold down the fort, but they rarely walked to this part of the house at night. I was counting on that trend to continue.