The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  “No!”

  “Ok, then I’ll take it.” Chris turned and took his seat behind the desk.

  “You can’t do that, either,” Steve said.

  Chris waited.

  “Victim’s fund?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll set up a trust: we have the victim’s names right?”

  “Yes.” Steve went over to the box and brought out the names he mapped the victim’s pictures to and handed the list to Chris.

  “I still haven’t been able to get the payroll list for the shell corporation,” Chris said and he banged commands on the keyboard. “So we don’t have everything. Yet.” He smiled. “When the next transfer fails, we’ll get that information.” He activated a series of transfers first into the Bondino’s account, then out to a numbered Swiss account held in trust that he’d set up earlier with his banker. The money moved through four different shell corporations into a trust fund in New York for victims he added to the charter, based on Steve’s list. The transfers happened instantaneously and the only ones that triggered federal review were those out of Kyle’s shell corporation and into the Bondino account. There was a transaction for moving the money out, but it didn’t have the destination account information.

  The destination accounts immediately closed after the money left their hosts and the transfer account record erased, leaving no financial trail outside of funds in and out, making it look like an error at the bank. Chris looked up after a few hours of executing commands and erasing history. “I left him a hundred dollars and we’ve got roughly ten million dollars to distribute to the families of his victims.”

  Steve grinned. “I have a feeling there’s gonna be a blood bath in Vegas this week.”

  Chapter 35

  Steve fell sound asleep as soon as he hit the bed. Waking to the sound of his phone ringing, he grabbed it off the nightstand, flipping it open without looking at the number.

  “Hello?” He opened one eye to look at the clock. It was only eight in the morning and he felt like shit.

  “Drop dead asshole? That’s the best you can come up with?” Kyle’s voice mocked.

  Steve catapulted out of bed, fully awake and charged with fury.

  Keep your fucking mouth shut! Chris’s voice penetrated his mind just before the bedroom door opened.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Kyle persisted. “Did you enjoy the pictures? Your mother was an exceptional fuck. Not as good as your wife, but, hey, I got my rocks off,” he taunted.

  Chris shook his head. Don’t react.

  “I promise I will find you,” Steve said.

  “Ooo, I’m scared,” Kyle laughed.

  “You’d better be,” Steve said through clenched teeth.

  Cut the call. Now.

  Steve pushed the off button. “What the fuck was that all about?”

  “He’s tracking the call trying to find out where you are,” Chris answered. He ran his hand through his hair. “He now knows you’re in the city. If he calls again, only stay on for fifteen seconds at a time until I can reverse engineer the trace.” He wandered away, leaving Steve alone in the bedroom.

  Steve threw on a pair of jeans and wandered out to the living room, finding Chris at the computer controls madly typing commands. He hacked into the Federal Reserve database and was wiping out all traces of the transfers he did the prior evening.

  “Did you find him?”

  “I need to finish what I started last night. The trace is running,” he said glancing at the other screen attached to Steve’s laptop. Chris exited the site, leaving only a ghost trail. “I couldn’t do that last night. They don’t allow access over night while the system is backing up.” He now focused on the laptop. “Shit.” He swore under his breath.

  “What?” Steve crossed the room and stepped behind Chris, looking at the computer.

  “He doesn’t have a land line,” Chris mumbled. “Wireless encryption,” he clarified. “It’s harder to hack into hardware with wireless encryption.”

  “I thought it would be easier.”

  Chris looked up at him. “Hacking into the wireless service is easy; cracking wireless encryption is harder, especially if he’s pirating the connection.”

  “Oh, so you can’t get into his computer?”

  “I never said that. I just said it’s going to be harder.” He went back to typing commands.

  Steve disappeared into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He raised his eyebrows at the full contents. Chris had gone shopping.

  He pulled out the fixings to make strawberry crêpes. The only missing ingredient was whipped cream and Steve improvised, sprinkling confectionary sugar on the rolled treats instead and walked back into the living room putting one of the plates on the edge of the desk, surprising Chris. He took a seat on the couch, flipped on CNN and began to eat.

  Chris looked at the breakfast. “I didn’t realize when you said you did the cooking that you meant you were a gourmet chef,” he commented after he took the first bite.

  “This is Jenny’s favorite,” he said without turning.

  “I can see why,” Chris said and finished what was on the plate. “Is there any more?”

  Steve pointed at the kitchen.

  Chris got up and snagged four more crêpes, leaving the last two for Steve. He wolfed them down and dropped the plate into the sink. He glanced at the computers as he passed, heading to his bedroom to change.

  Steve got up and wandered over to the computer.

  “Don’t touch,” Chris yelled from down the hall.

  “Don’t touch,” Steve mimicked irritated at the prospect of hanging out in the apartment all day. He wandered out to the balcony. The New York skyline did nothing to improve his mood.

  “You don’t have to hang here all day,” Chris said from the balcony doors. “I’m going running. I’ll be back in a while.” He started to turn. “If he calls again, remember what I told you,” he added and left Steve staring after him.

  Steve turned back to the view letting his mind wander back to the prior evening. “Stupid,” he muttered and retreated into the apartment, changing into his workout clothes. He locked up the apartment with the set of keys Chris gave him and took the elevator down.

  “Sir,” the doorman acknowledged and held the door open.

  Steve offered an uncomfortable smile and a nod. “Thanks,” he mumbled, not used to anyone holding a door for him. He crossed the street and broke out into a moderate jog, traversing the paths throughout Central Park.

  Chapter 36

  Central Park was one of her favorite places to jog and on a warm spring day like today, Sarah particularly enjoyed her stride until she looked up to see Chris Ryan heading her way.

  His gaze locked with hers and he slowed down to acknowledge her. She followed suit, stopping as he approached.

  “Officer Connelly,” Chris said.

  “Detective Connelly.” She corrected.

  “Detective,” he repeated. “I understand you were a part of the investigation of my stepdaughter’s death.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “I helped secure the building.” She shuffled her feet. “I thought you were blind?” she blurted out while thinking of something intelligent to say. Chris Ryan was an exceptionally good-looking man with an intense gaze that made her feel like he could see inside her soul.

  Chris chuckled and shrugged. “I was for a while. Guess it was a psychological thing after all.” He shifted and glanced around. “But I’m damn glad to have my eyes back.” He smiled and found her gaze again. “Hear you gave my boy a hard time.”

  “Your boy is an asshole.”

  Chris laughed. “Yeah, he certainly can be.”

  “What’s he got on you?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “I’m trying to figure out what a billionaire is doing with an FBI agent with a chip on his shoulder the size of Staten Island,” she said, shifting her weight and looking him over.

  Chris took his sunglasses off. “My son was shot and killed
by the man he is trying to find and I’ve got more resources than the FBI.” His eyes bore into her.

  “Don’t you mean stepson?”

  Chris slid his sunglasses back on. “That’s just semantics, I considered him my son,” he said and jogged away leaving her staring after him.

  Chapter 37

  Steve stopped in his tracks when he saw Chris talking to Sarah and knew Chris was not happy when he jogged away.

  “You seem to have a knack for pissing people off,” Steve said approaching her from behind.

  Sarah’s head jerked in his direction, her ponytail whipped around hitting her cheek. Her brown eyes widened with shock behind the sunglasses. “Fuck off, Williams,” she said as she regained her composure.

  Steve started laughing. “Always a lady.” He started to jog away.

  “Asshole!” she called after him.

  “Bitch.” He smiled back at her and promptly tripped on the curb. Steve pin-wheeled onto the grass, losing his balance, he fell on his ass.

  Sarah burst into hysterics at both the lack of grace and the wide-eyed, gaping mouthed expression on his face. She couldn’t stop, his glare just making the gales of laughter louder.

  Steve’s face turned red as he picked himself off the ground. He turned away as her laughter infected him. He glanced back at her, the humor finally reaching his eyes as he chuckled. “Call me grace.” He shrugged.

  Sarah fell to her knees holding her stomach. Every now and then, a squeak or a snort of a sound would come out but for the most part, she was laughing so hard that it was silent.

  “It wasn’t that funny,” Steve said, stepping in her direction.

  All she could do was nod. “Your face,” she sputtered wiping the tears from her eyes. “Priceless.”

  Steve shook his head, still chuckling himself. He held his hand out to help her up. “Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

  Sarah’s laughter wound down. “Oh, man, I needed that today.” She smiled as she took his hand and stood.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Cause I met a real prick last night and he put me in a foul mood.” She grinned as they started to walk in the direction Chris went.

  “Mhm,” Steve replied. “Perhaps you should kick his ass.” He smiled as he glanced sideways at her.

  “The sidewalk did a good job of that for me.”

  “Ah.” Steve tilted his head slightly, picking up her thoughts—her dirty thoughts. “Sorry about that.” Steve said, surveying the landscape and trying not to blush at the innuendos playing behind those tinted glasses.

  Sarah shrugged, giving the impression she could care less. “I let you see my case notes. I’d say quid pro quo is in order.”

  Her audacious comment irked Steve and he stepped in front of her, blocking her forward progress. “The FBI doesn’t do quid pro quo with a renegade city cop.”

  “It’s my case,” Sarah snapped. “Stay out of my way.”

  His expression shifted, his eyes holding a fraction of the fire fueling his rage. He shook his head and pointed at her. “If you get in my way, I’ll make sure you’re sitting at a desk for the rest of your career.”

  Sarah’s lips pressed together as she glared back at him. “Arrogant son of a bitch,” she said and stepped around him.

  Steve stepped in front of her, blocking her forward progress, and on impulse grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, crushing her lips under his.

  Her knee connected with his groin and pain exploded.

  Steve slowly lowered to the ground, holding his throbbing balls and looked up at her in shock. Her thoughts were not centered on hurting him, they were centered on fucking his brains out, so this—this came out of nowhere.

  She left him kneeling on the sidewalk trying to catch his breath.

  Chapter 38

  Steve stumbled into the empty apartment twenty minutes later, still in pain. His pride wounded more than his groin and he was glad Chris wasn’t back yet to razz him about this. He knew that would come later, but for now, he headed into the bathroom to clean up, hoping that would dull the tormenting ache between his legs.

  Under the warm spray, his thoughts turned to Sarah. Feisty bitch. He chuckled at the understatement, but feisty or not, she was a smart cookie. She’d come to the same conclusion he had last summer—the connection to Tony Bondino.

  Regardless of her deductive reasoning skills, he did not intend to share information with her. Although, Chris’s continued prodding about sleeping with her didn’t seem as far-fetched now as it had the night before. After all, the lewd thoughts running through her mind had triggered his actions in the park. It had been way too long since he’d had any kind of sexual release.

  He shook the thought out of his head and focused back on Kyle. A slow smile found his lips as he thought of the chaos Chris created. Damn, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to see Kyle’s reaction.

  He turned off the shower and headed to the bedroom wrapped in one of the plush green towels and flipped open his phone, calling into the hospital. “Dr. Nevins, ICU,” he said when the operator picked up. He waited, pacing.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Nevins.”

  “Morning doctor. It’s Steve Williams. How’s Jenny?”

  “Your wife’s muscle tone has improved but there is still no sign of brain activity.” He said. “I received the injunction from your lawyer and I assure you, we will not be following through on the request to remove the feeding tube until the courts resolve the issue.”

  “Thank you.” Steve took a deep breath. “I’ll check back tomorrow.”

  “I have your number. If anything changes, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Thanks.” Steve flipped the phone closed and pulled on a clean pair of jeans. He headed into the living room, stopping at the sight of her.

  “You took long enough in the god damn shower,” Sarah said with her hands on her hips.

  Chris came out of the kitchen, handing Sarah a glass of water. “She followed you home,” he said and walked past Steve. Get rid of her.

  Steve caught Chris’s thought as he walked by and turned his attention back to Sarah. “I’m not sharing information with you.”

  Sarah tried not to stare, but to Steve’s amusement, she couldn’t help it.

  He almost chuckled at the rosy hue of her cheeks and the fact she couldn’t concentrate enough to form words. Steve approached her. “Cat got your tongue?” He tilted his head a fraction and stopped a few paces away, playing on her attraction.

  She blinked and shook her head. “No, I just, um.” She stumbled on the words.

  The edges of Steve’s lips began to curl upward. He raised an eyebrow. “You um, what?”

  “I don’t want you messing with my case,” she spit the words out and stood a little straighter, getting her mind out of the gutter and projecting the tough bitch of a cop image she wanted him to believe.

  The trace of a smile disappeared, and with it, any humor that had surfaced and he stepped closer. “It’s not your case,” he warned.

  She stepped away. “I’ve been working on this case for three years and lost my sister in the process,” she snapped. “I’m close to catching the son of a bitch.”

  Steve laughed. “Do you know how long it took me to figure out who Kyle was and his connection to Bondinos?” He stepped closer, cornering her. “Six months,” he growled. “I even found where he lived and paid a visit. And I’ve seen his face.” His voice shook with the anger throbbing in his veins.

  “He killed my sister.” She placed her hands on his abdomen, trying to push him away, but he was as solid and unyielding as a brick wall.

  “He killed everyone who ever mattered to me.” Steve trumped her loss in spades. The ring of his cell phone interrupted the escalating hostilities. He dug into his pocket, flipping it and putting it to his ear.

  “New York,” Kyle’s voice taunted.

  Heat enveloped his face turning his anger into a boiling rage. “Yeah, come find me you son of a bitch,” he gr
owled, keeping eye contact with Sarah. He flipped the phone closed and held it up for her to see. “And the fucker seems to think it’s funny to taunt me.” He turned and stormed out to the veranda, throwing the phone on the couch as he passed.

  He paced back and forth in the morning sun trying to get a handle on the fury. Spinning on his heels, he walked back into the apartment. “That bastard is mine,” he said through clenched teeth. “And if you get in my way, I’ll run you over.” He turned and continued his pacing, muttering under his breath.

  The click of the front door stopped his mad pacing, and he shot to the door, whipping it open. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Sarah turned toward his voice. “If you kill him, I’ll throw you in jail,” she said and stepped onto the waiting elevator.

  Steve bolted, shooting his hand between the closing doors, triggering the sensors that opened them back up. “He blew up my month old daughter.”

  The hard lines in her face softened. “Still, if you kill him without provocation...”

  “If I find him...” Steve began and looked down, leaning on the elevator door. He closed his eyes shaking his head slowly. “If I find him, I don’t know what I’ll do.” He looked back at her.

  Steve stepped away from the elevator, watching the doors close on her questioning eyes. He sighed and let the small smile find his lips as he stepped back into the apartment. “It really isn’t fair to know what others are thinking,” he said as Chris came back into the living room.

  Chris shrugged. “You drive that cop insane.” He chuckled as he slid behind the computers.

  “He called.” Steve switched gears on Chris, wandering to the balcony, taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs. He didn’t want to discuss Sarah Connelly.

  Chapter 39

  Steve swore under his breath as he looked out over the city. Both the morning incident with Sarah and the call irked him. He couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept alternating between Kyle, Jennifer, Sarah and the injustice of allowing the man inside to walk free. His promise to Eric weighed on his conscience and Chris’s clickety-clack on the keyboard was driving him crazy. He stood up and wandered in.