by Karen Rose
However he’d achieved it, he was happy the boy was here. He felt a little closer to Colin every time he held Benny in his arms. The child had already quieted, a combination of the rocking chair and the finger he’d offered for Benny to gnaw.
A rustle of silk had him looking toward the door. Margo stood in the doorway, her face in shadow. ‘Papa,’ she whispered.
‘He’s fine,’ he murmured, continuing to rock. ‘Just fussy.’
She crossed the room and knelt beside the chair, touching her son’s forehead. ‘His fever has broken,’ she said gratefully. She stroked Benny’s cheek. ‘Does that taste good, little man?’ She glanced up, met his eyes. ‘You’re going to spoil him.’
‘That’s what grandfathers are supposed to do,’ he said with a smile for the child in his arms. ‘You should sleep. I have to stay awake for a while anyway.’
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Is Kathryn okay?’
‘She’s fine.’ He sighed. ‘But Thorne found Ramirez.’
Margo frowned. ‘How?’
‘He must have followed him.’
‘That makes sense.’ She frowned. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘Nothing you have to worry about.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Papa?’
‘Fine. I’m hitting him a little closer to home. His papas,’ he said mockingly, because he did not believe such things were natural or proper.
‘Will you finally give a kill order?’
She hadn’t agreed with his decision to have Patton intentionally miss Gwyn and Stevie earlier today.
‘Not yet,’ he said soothingly, unwilling to disturb Benny, who’d started to fall asleep. ‘Patience.’
Even in the semi-darkness, he could see her rolling her eyes. ‘Yes, Papa.’
Her sarcasm made his chest tighten, because in that moment she sounded very much like his Madeline. How he missed her. He pressed a kiss to Benny’s forehead. ‘You are very sweet,’ he whispered. ‘Your grandmother would have loved you so very much.’
Margo’s smirk drooped. ‘I’m sorry. I know you miss her.’
‘We were married for nearly thirty years. Every day that I wake without her seems like a thousand years. Which is why I have not given a kill order. I want to draw this out. I want him to feel pain.’
‘Striking his papas is a good first start. He loves them.’
‘I know. I only wish I could be there to see his torment.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 12.55 A.M.
Thorne said nothing as JD got back in the car and started the engine, sending the A/C blasting. JD had been inside the Ramirez house for an hour with Hyatt and Joseph Carter. During that time, one of Hyatt’s detectives – not Brickman, thankfully – watched Thorne like a fucking hawk, daring him to move a muscle.
Thorne hadn’t had the energy to even flip the asshole off. Not that he could really blame the guy anyway. This is starting to look bad even to me, and I know I’m innocent.
He’d texted Gwyn a few times, cursory one-word answers to her questions.
Are you okay? she’d asked.
No.
Is your contact alive?
No.
Are you still with JD?
Yes. That hadn’t been exactly true, but it met the spirit of her question.
Come back to me soon.
Yes. He’d swallowed hard as he’d typed the three letters, then added, Sorry.
For what? And don’t be an idiot.
He’d almost smiled at that. Thank you.
You’re welcome.
He rested his head against the window, patiently waiting for JD to speak.
‘They’ve been dead for at least a week,’ JD said finally.
‘They?’
‘Ramirez and his wife.’
‘Fuck,’ Thorne breathed.
‘Indeed. At least the A/C was on. It was pretty miserable in there.’
Thorne absorbed the words. At least a week. ‘I hadn’t heard from him in about a week. Not until I texted him Sunday after I woke up. The phone he used was a burner that he kept secret from Tavilla. Someone’s either gotten his phone or knows his number to spoof it on his replies to me.’ He blinked hard and forced himself to focus. Why? What had happened a week ago? Nothing that he could think of. ‘So even if I’d given Joseph and Hyatt his name during the meeting this afternoon, it wouldn’t have made a difference.’
‘No.’ JD sighed. ‘I’m not telling you any of this, by the way.’
‘Any of what?’ Thorne asked.
JD’s mouth quirked dryly. ‘Yeah.’ He blew out a breath. ‘He was shot in the gut. It wouldn’t have been a slow death. She was shot in the head.’ He rubbed his temples. ‘But she’d been tortured first. Lots of little punctures in her torso and groin. Not by a knife. Maybe a screwdriver.’
‘Fuck.’ Thorne swore again.
‘They suffered. Both of them.’
Thorne scrubbed his face with his palms. ‘Am I a suspect?’
‘No. But they will ask you why Ramirez agreed to sell you secrets. He was one of Tavilla’s top men.’
‘I know. I was surprised too. He wouldn’t tell me, but I figured it out. His nephew was gunned down by one of Tavilla’s thugs in a drive-by shooting. He wasn’t a target, but Tavilla’s boys sprayed the house with bullets and the nephew got caught in the crossfire. Died.’
‘Did Ramirez ever confirm that?’
‘Yes, once I presented my theory. He hated Tavilla, but he was not “in a position” to take him out. Which meant he feared retaliation on his family. He has children. Given that his wife is dead too, we should check on them.’
‘We found their addresses on some mail on the hall table. We’ll contact them, don’t worry.’
Because if JD and the cops had seen the addresses, the killers had too. ‘Were Ramirez and his wife eviscerated?’
‘No. That seems to have been reserved for Patricia and the two Circus Freaks guys. So far,’ JD added grimly. Thorne knew the cop was thinking about Lucy, Gwyn and Stevie.
‘Were they killed here?’
‘It doesn’t appear so,’ JD said. ‘Why?’
‘Just thinking about what Frederick told us. About there being seagulls in the background on the call from the fake detective to Sally Brewster.’
‘Right. Bernice Brown’s friend. Did Frederick check on Mrs Brown, by the way?’
‘Yes. She and her cousin have relocated. She didn’t tell him where. She said she’d be in touch.’
‘We’re going to need to talk to her at some point.’
‘I know, but she’s pretty spooked. I don’t think she’ll be coming out of hiding any time soon.’
They were quiet for a while, when both their phones started ringing at the same time.
‘Shit,’ JD barked.
‘Fuck,’ Thorne said at the same time, because this could not be good. ‘Mine’s from Jamie.’
‘Mine’s from Lucy,’ JD said.
They answered the phones simultaneously. ‘What’s happened?’ Thorne demanded.
‘Thomas.’ Jamie sounded terrified, and Thorne had to fight back nausea.
‘I’m here. Tell me what’s happened.’
‘It’s Phil. They got him.’ Jamie’s voice rose, hysteria breaking through. ‘They got him, Thomas.’
No. No, no, no. He found himself chanting the words in his mind for the second time that night, and fought for calm. ‘Where are you?’
‘On my way to the hospital. Frederick’s driving me.’
‘Which hospital?’ Thorne asked.
‘County.’ It was JD who replied, having obviously heard it from Lucy. He put on his emergency flashers. ‘I’ll get Thorne over there,’ he snapped into his phone. ‘You and Gwyn stay the fuck put.’ He hung up and pulled away from
the curb, radioing Hyatt. ‘Something’s happened to Phil Woods. I’m taking Thorne to the hospital. Will keep you informed.’
Thorne returned his attention to Jamie. ‘We’re on our way. Tell me what happened. Where is Sam? And Agent Ingram.’
‘Sam’s unconscious,’ Jamie said hoarsely. ‘He was hit in the head. Ruby’s on her way to the hospital. Ingram . . . God, Thorne. He might not make it.’
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Thorne drew a breath and let it out. ‘One at a time. What happened to Phil?’
‘He had a heart attack. He lost consciousness for a while, but came out of it long enough to call 911. Ingram also called before he passed out.’ Jamie’s voice broke. ‘Blood loss.’
‘Who found them?’
‘I did. Frederick and I got there about a minute ahead of the first responders. Frederick took care of Ingram and I rushed into the house. Sam was on the floor near the front door. And Phil . . .’ He choked on a sob. ‘Phil was lying on the floor in the kitchen. I checked his pulse. It was really irregular. Ingram managed to call 911 for an ambulance. I called for two more, for Phil and Sam.’
‘All right,’ Thorne murmured, more for his own benefit. ‘Is Phil conscious now?’
‘I don’t know. I couldn’t ride with him in the ambulance. My chair . . .’
His chair wouldn’t fit in the back of the ambulance. God. Poor Jamie. ‘Phil will understand when he wakes up,’ Thorne said, amazed to be maintaining his calm.
‘I know. Frederick wouldn’t let me drive.’
‘Good. Frederick’s got a head on his shoulders. Let him take care of things at the moment. How did they get in the house?’
‘I don’t know. It’s not like Phil not to set the alarm.’
‘I know. We’ll figure that out. For now, know that he will be okay.’
‘What if he’s not?’
‘He will be,’ Thorne said forcefully. ‘I’ll be there in . . .’ He looked to JD.
‘Fifteen minutes,’ JD said.
‘I heard,’ Jamie said, his voice breaking again. ‘Hurry, Thorne. Please.’
‘I am.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Phil loves you. He will fight for you.’
‘But he was so tired. What if he’s too tired?’
Jamie sounded like a frightened child and it was breaking Thorne’s heart. ‘I’m on my way,’ was all he could think to say. ‘I love you.’
Jamie sobbed once. ‘Me too. We just got here. Frederick is stopping at the ER door. Hurry.’ And he hung up.
Thorne pressed his fist to his mouth. ‘Gwyn’s okay?’
‘Yes. Clay and Stevie are sticking close. Ford and Taylor are backing them up. Paige is taking Ruby to the hospital. She’s apparently a mess. Ruby, not Paige.’
God. Ruby and Sam were so damn happy. And they would continue to be, he told himself sternly. Sam was a tough bastard. But Ruby . . . ‘This can’t be good for Ruby or the baby.’
‘Let’s not borrow trouble,’ JD said sternly. ‘We have enough of our own already.’ He turned on his siren and punched the accelerator. ‘Hold on.’
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 4.30 A.M.
‘Good Lord, Gwyn.’ Lucy tiptoed into Clay’s kitchen, Wynnie in her arms. ‘You scared me. I didn’t expect anyone to be in here.’
Gwyn looked up from the article she’d been reading on her laptop. ‘I was banished.’
Lucy chuckled. ‘Why?’
‘I was pacing and everyone was trying to sleep, but there’s no way I can. Not with Thorne so wound up over Phil. And Sam. And Agent Ingram.’ His texts over the last few hours had all been the same. Still waiting. No news. ‘I kept asking if anyone else had news, but I was doing it kind of often.’ She was actually annoying herself with her anxiety, so she didn’t blame the group for becoming impatient.
Yawning, Lucy settled herself in one of the chairs and cradled her baby to her breast. ‘I know there hasn’t been any news, because JD just called me.’
‘Then why did he call you?’
‘He says it’s because he found a big bag of your dog’s food in the back of Jamie’s minivan and figured you’d be needing it. I think he really just wants to see me and the kids. He does that sometimes when the stress starts to build, but don’t tell him I said so. He thinks he’s being all stealthy about it. Anyway, he wanted to be sure someone was awake to take the dog food, because he can’t stay long.’
‘Thank you. Thank him, I mean. I was going to have to go out and get some.’
‘Like anyone’s going to let you do that.’ Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Well, I went through the club’s books, making sure that there wasn’t any trail that would lead from Mowry to the Circus Freaks, because the cops will subpoena our files. It’s just a matter of time. I mean, I could see the pattern now that I know it’s there, but I don’t think even a seasoned forensic accountant will find any irregularities. But my audit didn’t take as long as I thought it would, so I started looking into the Lindens, specifically Patricia. She gets mentioned a lot in the society pages, but I went back to the articles around the time of Richard’s murder.’
‘Anything interesting?’ Lucy crooned, not wanting to disturb Wynnie, who was suckling with concentrated determination.
‘Linden Senior and Mrs Linden had both been married before. Richard and Patricia weren’t blood relatives. But they took very pretty family portraits. I found an archive in the Lindens’ company website with the Christmas portraits they took every year. Patricia was devastated by Richard’s murder and apparently the media attention was pushing her toward a breakdown. Her parents sent her away to relatives in Europe, where she finished high school. Everybody paid a price for Richard’s death. Thorne and Sherri most of all. I found a photo of the two of them together in one of the articles covering her death. Sherri was very pretty. You could tell she was a dynamo, just from her picture and what her friends said about her when she died.’
‘Looks like Thorne has a soft spot for tiny dynamos,’ Lucy said fondly. She cocked her head. ‘That was the front door. JD’s here.’
‘I’ll tell him you’re back here,’ Gwyn said, shutting down her laptop and hurrying to the front door where JD was setting the bag of dog food against the foyer wall.
‘Thank you,’ Gwyn said, and he smiled down at her wearily.
‘You’re welcome. Where’s Lucy?’
‘She’s in the kitchen with Wynnie. How . . . how long are you gonna be here?’
He gave her a knowing look. ‘Not long. I’m going back to the hospital.’
‘Take me with you?’ Gwyn begged. ‘Please? Thorne keeps texting and I know he’s losing his mind. I just want to be there with him.’
‘Security is good there,’ JD said after considering it. ‘Give me a few minutes with Lucy and I’ll be back out.’
She threw her arms around his neck. ‘Thank you.’ He patted her back, but his face looked stunned when she stepped back. ‘What?’
‘That’s the first hug you’ve given me. Like that, I mean.’
Because she’d met JD right when everything with Evan hit the fan. But now I’m back. I’m really back. ‘It won’t be the last.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Tuesday 14 June, 5.40 A.M.
Hospitals were noisy places, even at night. Gwyn remembered that from the two days she’d spent in the hospital after Evan. But she mostly remembered the relief at being able to leave. The arm Thorne had placed around her as he’d helped her into his car. The gentleness with which he’d laid her in his bed and kissed her on the forehead and told her that everything would be all right.
It’s always been him, she thought, slowing her step as she and JD approached Phil’s room in the cardiac ICU. His room was easy to spot – it was the only one with an armed police officer standing guard outside.
There
had been a lot of armed officers elsewhere in and around the hospital. They stood outside the rooms belonging to Sam and Agent Ingram, and by the doors to the waiting rooms where their families and friends had gathered.
The waiting room was where she and JD had gone first. Joseph was there, sitting with Mrs Ingram, who’d been weeping. That did not bode well. They found that Sam had been moved to a regular room and Ruby was with him. She’d had a sonogram, at Sam’s insistence. Word was that the baby was okay, so the news wasn’t all bad.
Gwyn got to meet Sally Brewster, the pediatric nurse, who’d come to sit with Frederick during her break. Frederick looked worn and so damn tired. But clean, because JD had driven him home for a shower and a change of clothes.
JD had been simply amazing, which really came as no surprise. She’d observed him being amazing to Lucy for the last four and a half years.
Now he was being amazing to Gwyn herself, walking her to Phil’s room, where Thorne and Jamie kept vigil. Because now that she was here, she was a little apprehensive. Thorne had told her explicitly to stay at Clay’s. She was nervous about what he’d say when he saw her.
Then she raised her chin. This relationship didn’t have a chance of success if Thorne thought he could command her. She’d nip that in the bud right away.
Still, she was glad JD was with her.
‘You sure you want to do this?’ he whispered.
‘If this were Lucy’s dad, would you?’
‘If this were Lucy’s dad, I’d have set off firecrackers to send him over the heart attack edge,’ JD said dryly. Because Lucy’s dad had been an abusive bastard. ‘But I get your point. I’d want Lucy with me if I were in Thorne’s position.’
‘Thank you.’
She approached the room on tiptoes. As she peeked around the doorway, her knees went weak. Phil’s eyes were open and he was looking up at Jamie, who held his hand. Thorne stood off to the side, tears on his face. But she could see that they were good tears.
Thorne inhaled then, and his shoulders stiffened as his body turned toward the door. His dark brows furrowed, his jaw going tight. ‘What. The. Fuck?’ he whispered loudly.
