by G. K. Parks
“The ME will let us know.”
“Poor Steve.” I felt queasy and heartbroken. “What about surveillance?”
Kendall pressed his lips together, waiting a beat before answering. “That’s not your concern. Let the authorities handle this, Parker. You’re a civilian.”
“Yeah, and the only person this asshole’s contacted. That makes me more than a civilian. I’m your MVP. Put me in, coach. I’m ready to kick ass.” But Kendall didn’t respond to my comment.
“Off the top of your head, how many cases did you and Jablonsky work with Cooper?” Kendall asked.
“A few.”
“Do you remember crossing paths with anyone violent and crazy enough to do these things?”
Only one name came to mind. “Vito, but he’s dead.”
“I thought about that too,” Kendall said. “Organized crime already pulled records and assured me Vincenzo’s empire died right along with him. Every lieutenant and head honcho in his organization either perished in that fire or left the city soon after. They haven’t been back since.”
“Are you positive? Have you checked everyone and everything?”
“We have, but I’ll have Davis look again, just to make you feel better. In the meantime, is there anything else you can think of? Any other reason someone would shoot Jablonsky and filet Cooper?” Kendall must have seen something disconcerting in my eyes because he said, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. You’re right. Ghosts can’t kill people. And you’re absolutely sure no one is left to exact revenge on Vito’s behalf?”
“Antonio Vincenzo’s dead. So is Eli Gates. And so is everyone else in Vincenzo’s inner circle. Parker, I know the man once put a hit out on you, but he’s dead. No one’s left to carry that torch. So who else would do something like this?”
“I don’t know.” Vito was dead. I knew it for a fact. After all, I killed him in cold blood. But only a handful of people knew that. Jablonsky being one of them. Cooper being another. I didn’t believe in coincidences. That secret connected us. And I wondered if that was the reason a man had been viciously slain and another was fighting for his life.
Eight
“Derek,” I said as soon as he answered his phone, “we need to talk. Can you meet me?”
“When and where?”
I told him we’d rendezvous at Martin’s. The Cross Security team followed me home. Cross didn’t send them to assist the police and FBI at Cooper’s. He sent them to protect me.
While driving, I called Martin and asked if a team of Lucien’s goons was keeping an eye on him too. They were. One thing I could say about my boss, he knew how to protect his assets. And after the horrors I’d just witnessed, I had no intention of arguing with Cross’s rationale. Right now, we all needed someone to watch our backs. Plus, I liked having the team at the hospital to watch over Martin and Mark should that demented piece of shit show up to make good on his threat.
After pulling into the garage, I went upstairs and monitored the security feed until Heathcliff’s car pulled onto the private road. The two company cars sat outside the main garage entrance. One of the bodyguards stepped out of the car when Derek parked behind them.
I opened the front door and waved off the detail before they assaulted a police officer and faced charges of their own. Cross’s lawyers had enough to deal with already, especially if he got caught hacking into phone records and private security networks.
“I’m so sorry,” Heathcliff said. “I can’t believe this bastard was ballsy enough to go after a second FBI agent. Moretti’s still at the scene. Half the detectives from major crimes were there. O’Connell said it was a mess. He’s never seen anything that horrific.”
“Neither have I.”
“Shit.” Heathcliff exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
“You already said that.”
Heathcliff looked around. “What’s so urgent? What’s going on?”
“The asshole called me again. That’s how we knew what he’d done to Cooper.” I paced the length of the living room. “He blames me. He says I destroyed him. And now he’s going to destroy me. Us. I don’t know. Everyone who fucked with his life, I guess. Jablonsky, Cooper, me.”
“Alex, this isn’t your fault.”
“I don’t know. It might be. I don’t know who he is, but I had a thought. And it’s crazy. I don’t even want to bring this up, but right now, you are the only person in the world I can say this to.” I stopped pacing, put my hands on top of my head and tried to remember how to breathe. “I killed Vito.” Heathcliff already knew my secret, even though I never admitted it to him. We both knew if I hadn’t killed Antonio ‘Vito’ Vincenzo, he would have done it instead.
“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know a thing about it.” His expression turned to stone, and the sympathy left his eyes. “What does that have to do with this?”
“Maybe nothing, but Mark knows. He covered it up. He destroyed evidence of my involvement. He protected me. And Cooper,” I nearly gagged on his name when the gruesome images flooded over me, “he got screwed by Vito too.”
“That can’t be the only connection between Jablonsky getting shot and Cooper getting killed. O’Connell said you had a list of cases. Surely, the three of you worked on other things that didn’t relate to Vito.”
“But it makes sense,” I insisted. “Who else has the cojones to go after federal agents and enough rage to,” I cringed, “maim and mutilate like that?”
“Psychopaths. Serial killers. The kinds of people you mess with on a daily basis.”
But I couldn’t wrap my head around the possibility that someone else could do something like that. “Aside from a few former SAS operatives and Martin, no one else knows the truth about what happened that night, except you. So stop pretending you didn’t know all along. We don’t have time to play these ridiculous games. The killer could be coming for you next. Didn’t you say someone spray painted a threat on your front door? What if it wasn’t some kid? What if he tries to kill you next?”
“Alex, calm down. You’re acting insane. Do you honestly think these crimes are about Vito’s demise? You think someone from Vito’s family is exacting revenge after all this time?”
“I don’t know. But what this shithead did to Coop, it was more than just murder. He didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that.” Tears welled, but I forced them back. “Despite everything, at one time, Coop and I had been friends. And now some animal has ripped him apart. Doesn’t that sound like something Vito’s people would do?”
Heathcliff rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I thought you recognized the caller’s voice.”
“Vaguely.”
His eyes burned with a rage I only glimpsed on rare occasions. “I recall every single one of those assholes’ voices. I could identify any one of them with a single syllable word. Don’t tell me you can’t do the same. Vito’s men threatened your life. They threatened Martin. And Jen. All of us. They killed Gwen.” His jaw muscles clenched, and he turned around, slamming his fist against the door so unexpectedly I jumped.
“In that case, I need you to listen to something.” I dug out my phone and found the audio recording. Even though I’d already sent it to everyone I could think of, I kept a copy of the audio file on me. I hit play and turned up the volume. “Well?”
“You’re wrong,” Derek said quietly, his voice lethal. “This has nothing to do with Vito. He’s dead. That’s someone else.” He squinted, and I saw recognition in his eyes.
“You recognize it too.”
He hedged. “I don’t know, but I’m damn sure this has nothing to do with Vito.”
“Okay.” But at the moment, it was the only connection I could see, even though from a practical standpoint, it didn’t make much sense. “I agree that it can’t be Vito or one of his guys, but the killer said I destroyed his life. I took everything away from him. And based on his actions, I can’t help but think this ties into what happened that night at Vito’s club.”
/>
“You can’t tell that to Kendall,” Heathcliff said. “You could face charges.”
“But he has questions.”
“That’s your guilt talking, Parker. You want to explain this. You need this to make sense. But it doesn’t. The killer blamed you, so you want to figure out why. And since doing in that fucker Vito is the worst thing you’ve ever done, you think that must be it. Sure, it might look feasible on the surface, but it’s fucking bonkers. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” Though I didn’t agree that was the worst thing I’d ever done, but now wasn’t the time to argue. I’d rarely seen Heathcliff this upset.
He strode across the room and grasped my arms, giving me a good shake. “Pay attention. You’re not listening. Jablonsky is an FBI agent. You and Cooper used to be FBI agents. This is about a case. A different case.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I just am.” Heathcliff held tight, as the wheels spun in his head. “We all worked together with Cooper the first time you tangled with Vito. Nick, Thompson, Moretti, me. If it’s related, someone else from the task force will be targeted. What about the other agents? Darli, Webster, Sullivan, that one chick who tried to impersonate you?”
“Agent Navate. And for the record, you can’t call FBI agents chicks. They don’t appreciate it.”
Heathcliff tried a smile, but only one corner of his mouth quirked upward. “There’s that pain in the ass private detective I know.” He let go of my arms, his tone softening. “Think of it this way. If it has to do with that, we know who else this bastard plans to target. Let’s make sure everyone is aware of the threat and maybe we’ll get some backup nearby to monitor the situation. Does that sound good?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Derek made a few calls and hung up. “That’s the easy part. But I’m telling you this has nothing to do with Vito, so we need to focus on the facts. Who else did you, Jablonsky, and Cooper piss off?”
“I don’t know.” I watched him pensively. “Why do you think the voice sounds familiar to you too?”
“I don’t know.” He met my eyes. “But I’ll be okay. Stop worrying. No one’s stupid enough to mess with me.” He looked around the empty house. “Well, since you dragged me all the way here, you might as well put me to work. Where do you want to start?”
“Nick and I already went through my old case files and notes, but that was before.”
“So we do it again, and maybe something will strike a chord this time.”
* * *
Heathcliff left around midnight, leaving me with a dozen case files to dissect. Cooper only crossed paths with us on those cases, but they were large, sweeping ordeals with lots of moving pieces. Even though it was a smaller number to examine, a lot of players and potential players were on the field. And since these were all big cases, a lot of other FBI and law enforcement officials had been involved, increasing the killer’s potential targets exponentially.
After leaving voicemails for Kendall and Moretti, I took a shower, changed clothes, grabbed some things for Martin, including his watch, and headed back to the hospital. Admittedly, Cross Security took the security part of their name seriously. We drove in a convoy, my vehicle sandwiched between the two company cars. Two men escorted me to the front entrance but remained outside. When I stepped into the sitting area outside the ICU, I spotted another two-man team and mouthed thanks. Randall, a guard who’d protected me before, winked in response.
“Martin,” I slid into the empty chair beside him, “what are you doing out here? I thought you’d be in with Mark. Is he okay?” I twisted in the chair, desperate to see into his room, but the blinds were drawn and the room was dark.
“He hasn’t woken up.” Martin took my hand, brushing his lips against my knuckles before holding my palm against his cheek. I stroked his jaw. “At the changing of the guard, they kicked me out.”
“Changing of the guard?” I blinked, taking a moment to process his words. The two FBI agents stationed outside Mark’s room had been replaced by two other agents. “When was that?”
“I guess around seven or eight. They said only authorized personnel was allowed inside.”
“Kendall upped the security.” Four uniformed police officers covered the two doors. “And from the looks of it, so did Moretti.”
“Aren’t we all on the same side?” Martin asked.
“One would hope. But given the limited amount of evidence we’ve collected, Moretti might be afraid another agent did this. He wants his guys watching Kendall’s guys just in case.”
“It can’t hurt. But do you think it’s necessary?”
After seeing the way Cooper had been torn apart, I didn’t know. Rage fueled the killer. And Cooper had pissed off and betrayed the office, his oath, and each of us. He endangered our lives, which would enrage any federal agent worth his salt. Plus, the killer used nine millimeter hollow points, just like the majority of law enforcement officers in this country, both local and federal. “I don’t know. I’m too twisted around to know anything right now.” I fished Martin’s watch out of the tote bag. “Put this on. It’ll make me feel better.”
He took it, giving me a cockeyed look as he fastened it around his wrist. “I take it you haven’t made much progress since you left.”
“Nick and I went through my old cases. Then Derek and I went over everything again. Tomorrow morning, Moretti wants me at the precinct to answer questions, and I’m sure Agent Davis will drag me back to the federal building for another round of interrogations.”
“They can’t believe you’d do this.”
“No. It’s not about that.” I licked my lips. “The killer called again.”
“When?” Martin’s eyes grew wide, suddenly far more alert than he’d been up until this point. “What does he want?”
“He wants to destroy me and anyone else who had a hand in destroying him.”
Martin’s gaze darted to the security team. “You called Lucien. That’s why he sent the team. Are they here for me or Jabber?”
“Both, I think. But Cross hates Mark, so I can’t be sure they’ll step in to protect him. They will protect you, though. You’re Cross’s golden goose.”
“Did he send a team to protect you too?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” But the news didn’t do much to quell Martin’s fears. “Do you think the shooter will attack you next?”
“No.”
His brow furrowed. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad to hear it, but why not?”
“He isn’t finished yet. My name’s the last on his list. You were right. He wants me to suffer.” And I told Martin about the call and Cooper. “I just wish I could figure out who he is. I know him. That much is clear. So why can’t I place the voice? On the phone, he couldn’t believe I hadn’t given him a second thought.”
“That almost sounds like an angry ex.” He snorted. “I would know. Apparently, so would Jabber. Maybe O’Connell’s theory wasn’t that far off the mark.”
“It’s not Renee. She never met me before today. And this asshole, he knows me. Really knows me.”
“How? You’re always so guarded, even with me.”
“Yeah, but you see right through me. I’ve always hated that about you.”
He smirked. “I thought women liked it when men pay attention.”
“Not when I lie for a living.” A thought tugged at the corner of my mind, just out of reach. I sighed and got up and moved closer to Mark’s room. The FBI agents guarding him recognized me.
“Hey, Parker. You going inside?” Agent Hennessy asked.
I glanced back at the nurse’s station. Visiting hours were over, but I didn’t think anyone would stop me. Martin had given them the paperwork. Apparently, that gave me the same privileges as a blood relative. “Just for a minute. I have to tell him something.” I turned and pointed to Martin. “That’s James Martin. Do whatever’s necessary to have him put on the approved list. Call Kendall if you have to and tell him I said so.
”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Agent Hennessy said. “While you’re in there, tell Jablonsky we’re pulling for him.”
Nodding, I braced myself and stepped inside. The only light came from the machines and monitors behind him. I approached the bed, my heart racing.
“Mark, I doubt anyone’s told you this yet, but Steve Cooper’s dead. The asshole who shot you, he went after Coop. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t know what’s going on, but it obviously has something to do with the three of us. For the life of me, I can’t figure it out. So I need you to wake up and help me with this. That’s right. I’m actually asking for help, so you damn well better not let me down. You listening, Jablonsky? Cooper’s dead. And I don’t know who’s next. But I have to stop it. Carver and Boyle died because of me. Because I screwed up. Now Cooper’s dead because of something I did. Or something we did. I don’t know. But I gotta do something. Help me. Please.”
The machine beeped, and Mark let out a wheeze around the plastic tube taped to his mouth. But he didn’t wake up. I squeezed his hand. For the first time in my life, Mark Jablonsky seemed small and frail.
Nine
“What do we know so far?” Moretti asked. He stood in the center of the bullpen, lingering beside O’Connell’s and Thompson’s joined desks. “Anything come back on the surveillance footage?”
I hadn’t said a word since entering. It was barely eight a.m. Shift change only happened moments ago, and Moretti had already leapt into action. Heathcliff placed a cup of coffee in front of me and took his seat.
“A few rental cars passed by Jablonsky’s neighborhood around the time of the shooting. But none of that panned out. We’re checking every vehicle that drove past and speaking to the owners, but it looks like a dead end,” Heathcliff said.
“Did you run each of them through the criminal databases and also cross them with witness lists and FBI records?” Moretti asked.
“Yes, sir,” Heathcliff said. “I even gave them to Parker to take a look.”
