I Won't Remember You (Aidan & Vicky Book 6)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “Stop. Don’t worry about stuff like that now, honey. We’ll figure all that out later. Let’s just get through the next couple of weeks, okay?”

  “Okay, kid. I’ll just concentrate on the next couple of weeks. Once they put Harold in prison, and we’re free of him for good, then we’ll worry about the future.”

  “Good girl,” Vicky cooed. “Besides, I’m going to love having you following me around the hospital again. Oh!”

  “What?” Aidan asked, a glint of a smile in her eyes. Just making the decision to be with Vicky no matter the cost, lifted the weight of anxiety from her heart. That feeling told her it was the right decision.

  Vicky giggled. “You could have your old job back as photographer, if you want it?”

  “Uh, thanks, but no thanks. Listen, I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed to be with you twenty-four seven. I don’t think the subpoena is the only trick he has up his sleeve. This will not only test our marriage, but my patience, as well.”

  Vicky shook her head. “Honey, you don’t have any patience.”

  Aidan laughed. “You’re right about that,” she said, looking from Vicky’s eyes to her lips. She leaned over and kissed Vicky, gently at first, and then more possessively.

  Margie coughed politely to remind them that she was in the room.

  “Oh, Margie. I’m so sorry,” Vicky said, running a finger under her lip.

  “Quite all right. If you don’t have any other questions, I will leave you to it.”

  “Thanks, Margie. My wife may have some questions, but I need to go lose my job,” Aidan said, and then turned back to Vicky. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, don’t go anywhere, okay?”

  “I’ve got a meeting in forty-five minutes, but it’s here at the hospital. I’ll be fine, don’t worry, sweetheart.”

  “Not possible,” Aidan said with a smile, and grabbed her jacket, and soda. She leaned closed and whispered, “I love you.”

  “I love you too, honey.” God, I love you so much.

  Aidan closed the door behind her, leaving Vicky alone with Margie.

  Vicky’s smile faded. “Margie, how much trouble is she in if they find her guilty of assault?”

  “A Class D felony is punishable by up to six years, but most likely, if she’s found guilty, she’s looking at two to three years and a fine of up to ten-thousand dollars.”

  “Shit!” Vicky exclaimed.

  “That’s the worst case scenario, Victoria, and while it might be good to prepare yourself for the possibility, like you said, don’t fixate on it. I recommend that you take it one problem at a time. I also recommend that you call your lawyer and get him on the case, ASAP.”

  “Yes, of course you’re right. I’m just tired of it all. That man has hurt Aidan from the day she was born. He kidnapped her mother when she was pregnant with Aidan, and abused her. Then, after she gave birth, he abused her until she was forced to run away. Her only mistake was that she left Aidan with him. I’ll never forgive her for that.”

  “I can’t imagine what Aidan must have suffered,” Margie said, “but she grew up to be a respected hero in this state, with past presidents shouting her praise. That says a lot for the woman.”

  “Yes, it does,” Vicky said, her heart swelling with pride. “She’s always had that courage inside of her. The first time I met her, she scared off a bully that was pestering me in first grade. Now, all these years later, she’s still trying to protect me from the bully, only this time, the mentally unbalanced man is her father. Actually, he’s her adopted father. She doesn’t recognize him as her father.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Oh, um, Margie, this is all strictly confidential. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

  “Victoria, you pay my firm a big, fat retainer already. Besides, we’re friends. I would never betray your confidence.”

  Vicky nodded, then smiled. “If we’re such good friends, then why can’t I get you to call me Vicky?”

  Margie laughed. “Because my boss would wet his jocks if he heard me being familiar with a client.”

  “Ew, what a lovely vision,” Vicky chuckled.

  ***

  “Hey, boss, got a minute?” Aidan asked, tapping on his open door.

  “Sure,” he replied, waving her in. “Got an update for me?”

  “Uh, I just got back this morning, and—”

  “I know, Cassidy. I was pulling your leg. Glad to have you back.”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to see you about. I need to take a leave of absence, and I’m not sure for how long.”

  He shook his head, ready to say no, and then remembered who he was talking to. Aidan wasn’t the typical special agent he was used to commanding. She worked best on her own initiative and had instincts he envied. If she had the balls to ask for more time off, something was wrong. He tossed his ink pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair.

  “What’s going on, Cassidy?”

  “I’m not sure I can explain it, really. I have this, uh, my gut is telling me that, uh—”

  “Spit it out, Cassidy.”

  “Sir, I love my job. I love catching the bad guys and protecting this country. But I love my wife more, and I need to be with her until Harold is sent away to prison, or dead, which would be preferable.”

  “So, you want to take off indefinitely?”

  “The trial starts next week and isn’t expected to last a week, so I only need a couple more weeks, just until he’s in prison.”

  “And if he isn’t found guilty?” Tom asked.

  “Then I will resign and work for my wife,” Aidan replied. It would be the last thing Aidan wanted, but it would also be an easy decision. Vicky came first, no matter what.

  “Drastic, but unnecessary.”

  Aidan shook her head. “Sir?”

  “Aidan, you have sacrificed everything for the good of your country, including your honeymoon. The least your country can do, is give you all the time you need. Your job will be waiting for you when you are ready to return to it.”

  Fuck me! “Sir, you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

  “Yes, I think I do. Do you still want Williams in charge of your team while you’re gone?”

  Aidan snickered. “Considering he’s the only one on my team, I think that’s probably a good idea. I’d like for him to check in with me now that I’m back, if that’s okay?”

  “As long as you know you won’t be paid for it,” Tom advised her. “Well, except for that week you were working on your honeymoon.”

  “I figured as much… what?”

  “Yeah, you were on the job so of course you’ll be paid for it.”

  Damn, it’s like it was meant to be. “Thanks, boss. That takes a lot of pressure off of me.”

  “There is one caveat, however,” Bradshah stated.

  Aidan couldn’t imagine what it would be, but whatever it took to be with her wife, she was happy to do it.

  “I want you to interrogate your gang buddy first. I think you can get more out of him than we’ve been able to.”

  Aidan suppressed her excitement. She really wanted another crack at Malachy because her gut was telling her that there was more to him than just carrying drugs. He had denied being with Rebels without a Cause, but if that were true, who was he with and how did he end up in Ireland?

  “What has he told you so far, sir?”

  “Not much. He’s not talking. Said that if the mob didn’t kill him for squealing, al-Qaeda would.”

  “Which mob, sir?”

  “We’ve traced his movements back to the Irish mob out of Chicago,” Bradshah replied. “The gang that you were in once upon a time.”

  “Fuck me!” Aidan exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I thought you might find that interesting,” Bradshah said with a chuckle, becoming used to Aidan’s way of reacting to surprising news.

  Aidan’s mind raced a mile a minute. Her instincts were telling her to continue acting tough, like when she was a gang
member with Malachy. “Sir, can I interrogate him with prejudice?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Aidan smiled. “I owe him an eye for an eye.”

  ***

  “How did she look, when you handed her the subpoena?” Harold asked expectantly.

  “I thought she was going to hit me,” the young man replied. I heard her cussing as I left.”

  “That’s my girl,” Harold quipped.

  “So, can I get my hundred bucks now?”

  Harold nodded. “As soon as my cousin gets here, he’ll pay you.”

  A heavy set man in a wrinkled, cotton suit, walked in carrying a briefcase that looked like it was made in the seventies.

  Harold looked up. “Ah, speak of the devil.”

  The man sat down with a huff, tossing his briefcase on the bench beside him. “Damn, it’s hot in here,” he complained.

  “It’s always too hot for you, George,” Harold retorted.

  George Peterson, Harold’s cousin once removed, barely made it through high school, his grades were so bad. He didn’t want to be a lawyer, but that’s the only thing his father would agree to pay for. His father, long dead, was a lawyer and wanted his son to join him. That is until he had to pull some strings to get him past the tests. If George had applied himself, he could have been a corporate lawyer like his father, but instead, he ended up as personal injury lawyer, chasing after ambulances for cases. As much as he disliked being a lawyer, he disliked Harold even more, but he was a paying client. Well, except for the fact that Harold hadn’t paid him yet.

  “Give the kid a hundred bucks, George,” Harold said.

  “A hundred bucks? What makes you think I’ve got that kind of money?” George retorted.

  “Just give it to him, damn it.”

  Annoyed, George exhaled and pulled out his wallet. “I’ve only got…” he thumbed through the ones and tens, “sixty-six dollars. Take it or leave it.”

  The young man looked from George to Harold, who nodded, then back at George. “Okay, I’ll take it,” he said, and snatched the bills from George’s hands.

  Harold watched him walk away and shook his head. “What a putz.”

  “You know you don’t have a snowballs chance in hell of winning your case against your daughter, right?” George asked condescendingly.

  “Of course I know that. I didn’t do it to win the case, stupid. I did it to piss her off.”

  “Why? What will that get you?”

  Harold laughed and said, “Satisfaction.”

  “Harold, I think you should reconsider the insanity plea. You’ll get a reduced sentence, and—”

  “Don’t you ever fucking say that I’m insane again! I’m not insane, and do you know how I know that?”

  George swallowed hard and shook his head. He’d always thought that Harold was crazy, as did most of their family.

  “Because I’m having too much fun acting like I am,” Harold retorted.

  “What does that even mean?” George asked timidly.

  “It means that I can get back what is mine by playing mind games with the bitch who took it.”

  “What bitch? Harold, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re about as useless as tits on a boar hog, you know that? I’m talking about pretty little Vicky, the all American girl who lived next door.”

  “The little girl you raped, and then you ran for the hills.”

  “Yep, that’s the one. Too bad, too. I had a good thing going in that little town. Why do you think I stayed in that town longer than all the others?”

  “I don’t know, I thought maybe it was because you wanted to start a new life, raise Aidan the right way.”

  “I didn’t want to raise Aidan at all,” Harold retorted angrily.

  “Then why the hell did you take her away from her mother? Why did you adopt her in the first place?”

  “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

  “I guess I am, because none of it makes sense to me.”

  Harold shook his head. “It’s all about the game, George. Who can play it the longest, and who has the better connections.”

  ***

  Malachy, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, sat in an interrogation room at the city jail, his hands and legs shackled to the table. Tom Bradshah and Jerry watched through a one-way glass as Aidan walked in and casually sat down across from Malachy.

  “We meet again?” she said, interlacing her fingers and resting her hands on the table.

  Malachy opened his mouth to say something, but Aidan cut him off.

  “And don’t bother cussing at me, I’ve heard it all before and it doesn’t mean shit to me.”

  “What do you want, soith?”

  Malachy was a bully, usually towards those weaker than he was, and Aidan knew that he had always felt superior towards her only because she was female. So she needed to show him who’s boss.

  Aidan stood up and walked around the table and stood in front of Malachy. She cupped his chin in her hand and smile down at him. Then she raised her fist and punched him hard in the eye.

  “What the fuck?” Malachy cried, trying to reach his hands up to his face.

  “Just returning a sucker punch you gave me back in the day,” Aidan replied, standing up and walking back to her chair. “Call me a bitch again, and I’ll kick your balls into next Sunday. Do we have an understanding?”

  Aidan thought she heard Bradshah laughing in the observatory room.

  “You’re real tough, aren’t you girl?” Malachy challenged. “Take these chains off and let’s just see how tough you are.”

  Aidan, feigning anger, jumped up, knocking her chair over on purpose. “You’re on, mother fucker. It’s just you and me here now. Let’s do this!” She dug in her jeans pocket as if to pull a key from it, but Malachy was already backing down. Her bluff had worked.

  “All right! All right, damn it,” Malachy shouted. “What do you want?”

  “Great bluff,” Bradshah said quietly to Jerry. “She’s a natural interrogator.”

  Aidan sat down and rested her hands on the table again. Calmly, she said, “Tell me about our old gang. What happened after I left?”

  Malachy looked at her for a moment, and then began to explain. “You were there when Truck was killed, right?”

  Aidan nodded, realizing that it was because Truck, the leader of their gang, was killed that she left the gang and ended up in Maryland. She shuddered to think what might have happened if she’d stayed in the gang. I never would have found Vicky again.

  “Yeah, well, too bad you left when you did because the war with the east side gang killed off half our numbers on both sides. A new gang moved in and told us to join them or die. We joined them. Both gangs did.”

  “What new gang?” Aidan asked.

  “A drug cartel out of Mexico. But that didn’t last long, a couple of years, maybe. The cops shut us down.”

  “How did you end up with the Rebels?”

  “I told you, I’m not with them,” Malachy complained.

  Aidan redirected the question. “How did you end up on that plane, packing drugs?”

  “It was a test,” Malachy said, shaking his head. “I guess I failed it.”

  “A test for which gang?” Aidan asked.

  “It’s not just a gang anymore. I’m in the syndicate,” he said proudly.

  “The syndicate,?” Aidan asked, laughing. “Seriously? You?”

  “Hell yeah. What’s so funny about that?”

  “How did an Irish street kid from Chicago end up in the mob?” Aidan bated.

  “The same way an Irish runaway from Arkansas ended up in a street gang in Chicago,” Malachy quipped. “What other choice was there?”

  He had a point, Aidan thought. “So, you want me to believe that you’re in the syndicate, and was on my plane as a test, is that pretty much it?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying, and now, I’m not saying any more. Not without a deal.”

&n
bsp; “What kind of deal?” Aidan had never bargained with a suspect before and wasn’t sure what she could offer him.

  “Probation and protection, only then will I tell you who I work for.”

  Aidan leaned back in her chair and calmly said, “That’s not worth anything.”

  Malachy thought for a minute, and then looked at the door as if he was making sure they were alone. “All right, I am with Rebels, and they occasionally team up with, uh, other factions.”

  “You mean like al Qaeda. I already know that, Malachy,” Aidan bluffed. “Like I said, that’s not worth anything.”

  “Not even if I know where they’re going to hit next?”

  Aidan’s instincts told her to play it cool, Malachy was not the most honest person, and he knew going to jail would be certain death. He would say anything to manipulate the outcome in his favor.

  “It depends,” Aidan said. “Give me something that’s worth going to my boss with.”

  Malachy didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward and said, “I overheard people talking. They’re going to hit here, in whatever baile olc this is.”

  “Little Rock? They’re going to strike here, again?” Aidan asked incredulously. She had wondered if they were still in the area.

  “Yeah, they’ve got a stick up their arse about something that’s been going on here.”

  “Who? Who has a stick up their ass, Malachy?”

  “Are you daffed, girl. I said I wanted a deal first.”

  Aidan nodded and left the room. She went into the observation room where Bradshah and Jerry were waiting. As much as she wanted to stay on the case, and as much as she wanted to catch those guys plotting another attack, she knew she couldn’t properly protect Vicky if she’s distracted with the case.

  “Okay, Jerry, get his statement and we’ll give him the deal he wants,” Bradshah instructed.

  “Me? He’s obviously talking about the same group who hit the hospital. Shouldn’t Aidan be leading the investigation?”

  “I can’t, Jer. I’ve got the trial and Harold is still pulling crazy shit, even from the jail cell,” Aidan said, and then turned to Bradshah. “You should probably know that he had papers served on me today, boss, for aggravated assault.”