Jessie Black Box Set 2

by Larry A Winters

  “Barrel of laughs.”

  A gun shot rang out. The side of the car punched inward no more than an inch to Leary’s right. Jessie realized it was the force of a bullet hitting the vehicle’s frame.

  “Don’t fucking move.” A familiar voice, calm but steely.

  Ray Briscoe.

  “Shit,” Graham said.

  “Someone find Vicki,” Ray Briscoe said. “The rest of you kill these bastards.”

  Jessie glanced at Graham, then exchanged a look with Leary. The three of them ducked and moved quickly. Jessie could hear other voices now, and boots pounding the wet grass. More gunshots split the quiet of the night. The rear door’s window shattered. Jessie crouched by the driver’s side door, opened it, and got behind the wheel. Leary got in on the other side. Graham climbed into the back, squeezing next to Kelly. The lawyer lay prone across the back seat, covered in pieces of glass from the exploded window.

  “Go!” Leary said.

  Jessie stabbed the ignition and shoved her foot down on the gas pedal. The Mercedes leapt forward.

  In her haste to swing the car around, she almost lost control. The steering wheel jumped in her hands and the left-hand tires went off the gravel road and into the grass. She righted the vehicle and got it turned in the direction of the main road leading out of the property. Gunshots continued to fire from behind them.

  Leary put a reassuring hand on her arm. “Stay calm.”

  “Kind of hard to stay calm when people are shooting at us.” She floored the accelerator and the car rocketed along the narrow gravel road toward the exit of the compound. The gunshots petered out, but a new sound replaced them. Engines. Cars and motorcycles came to life behind them, dozens of headlights spearing the darkness.

  “That’s not good,” Jessie said.

  “Just drive.”

  “They didn’t teach car chases in law school. Maybe I should have let one of you take the wheel.”

  Graham said, “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything at the time, but—” The side view mirror on Jessie’s left exploded.

  They bounced along the gravel road and swerved from there onto the main road. The members of the Dark Hounds gang pursued them. In the back seat, Kelly whimpered. The bouncing and jostling of the car must have been painful on her wounded and bruised body, but there was no avoiding it. Jessie wished any of them still had their phones. They were on their own out here in the middle of nowhere. Even assuming Torres was on her way, it didn’t look like she was going to get here in time. If the bikers caught up with them, Jessie could not even imagine what retribution Ray Briscoe would visit on them for the death of his daughter.

  “They’re catching up,” she said, watching her pursuers in the rearview mirror.

  Several of the Dark Hounds peeled off of the road, bounding up a side road that intersected it. They’re going to flank us, Jessie thought. This area was the Hounds’ home turf. They knew the roads around here—the shortcuts and side roads.

  “Speed up,” Leary said. “I have an idea.”

  Jessie had already pushed the Mercedes past ninety miles per hour. On the dark, slick road, she was afraid to go faster. “Leary….”

  He pointed. “See up ahead, how the road bends? Get there.”

  She shoved her foot down hard against the pedal. The Mercedes responded with a growl. The miles-per-hour counter rose, exceeding one-hundred. The car whipped around the bend. The night seemed to darken as the headlights behind them disappeared.

  “Slow down,” Leary said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just trust me,” he said.

  “Do it,” Graham said from the back. “I think I know what he’s thinking.”

  Jessie risked a quick glance at the man beside her. He was leaning forward and peering out the windshield, as if searching for something. Jessie let up the pressure on the gas pedal and the car slowed.

  “There! See it?”

  Jessie had to squint to see what he was pointing at. Then she saw it. A rough path—it looked like muddy straw—running from the other side of the road and down into a field. There was some kind of structure in the field, a shed or a barn, with its doors open. “Yes.”

  She jerked hard on the steering wheel. The Mercedes half-turned, half-skidded. Even with the windows closed, the smell of burnt rubber filled her nostrils. The front tires bounced off the pavement and onto the straw, then the rear tires followed. The car bumped roughly, throwing Jessie against the steering wheel, and then hard against her seat.

  She aimed for the barn, hoping the car would fit. She slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt before just narrowly missing the structure’s rear wall. The Mercedes rocked to a hard stop. Jessie caught her breath, then cut the power and extinguished the headlights.

  Graham jumped out of the car and ran for the barn doors. As she was pulling them closed, Jessie heard a burst of noise. The sound of vehicles racing past on the road above them. Then it was quiet. She looked at Leary. “It worked. They missed us.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Now we wait, I guess.”

  As it turned out, they didn’t need to wait long. Only a few minutes passed before the sound of police sirens wailed through the night.

  Jessie’s breath escaped in a sigh. Leary started to laugh.

  “Better late than never,” Graham said.

  45

  Restaurant week was over, but Leary found himself at another fancy restaurant with Jessie and her father. The ambience was subdued and classy, the tables surrounding them occupied by content-looking people chatting happily over their meals. After recent events, Leary found himself envying their normalcy.

  Jessie smiled at her father. “This time we promise to stay for the whole meal.”

  “Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” Harland Black said. “Besides, the last time you bailed on me, you left me enough delicious food to last a week. I wouldn’t say no to that happening again.”

  He gave her a big smile, but Leary, with his trained eye, caught the effort behind it. There was no ignoring the bruises and scratches beneath Jessie’s makeup.

  Leary remained silent. Under the table, his hand returned incessantly to his pocket, where he traced the hard circle of the engagement ring he’d been holding onto for what felt like an eternity now. Even though he knew what Jessie’s answer was going to be, he still felt a tremor of nervousness as the moment approached to ask for real.

  Jessie’s father put down his menu and gave Leary a wink. “You know what? I think I need to hit the head. See you later, kids.” He rose and gave Leary’s shoulder a squeeze as he walked past. Leary saw Jessie’s face flush red. He was sure his own followed suit.

  Guess that’s my cue.

  Leary got up from his chair, walked closer to where she was sitting, and got down on one knee. He raised the engagement ring. The diamond caught the light from the restaurant’s chandeliers and sparkled.

  “So we’re going to do this the old-fashioned way this time?” Jessie said.

  “Seems a little more romantic than doing it in between being tortured and running for our lives.”

  “Little bit.”

  The other diners in the restaurant took notice, and the murmur of conversation around them died. Waitstaff stopped in their movements to watch. Leary felt as if a spotlight had been aimed at him. He tried to ignore the attention. He reminded himself that only one person in this restaurant mattered right now. Maybe two, if you considered his future father-in-law helpfully loitering near the men’s room door.

  “Will you marry me, Jessie?” He lifted the ring to her.

  “Yes, Mark. Nothing would make me happier.”

  Leary slid the ring onto her finger. His whole body trembled with excitement and happiness, a visceral, physical reaction he could not control, and didn’t really want to—in fact, he wouldn’t mind if the feeling lasted forever.

  Jessie seemed filled with emotion as well, her smile as wide as he’d ever seen it. She wasn’t loo
king at the beautiful diamond on her finger, though. She was looking into his eyes.

  A round of applause thundered around them. Diners rose from their chairs to clap, whistle, and tap their silverware against wine glasses.

  Leary felt instant embarrassment, but not enough embarrassment to stop him from doing what felt natural. He rose to Jessie’s height, pressed his lips against hers, and they kissed.

  When they were back in their seats, Jessie’s father returned. He showed Leary and Jessie a picture on the screen of his phone.

  “You took that from inside the bathroom?” Jessie said with a wry smile.

  “Ha ha. You think I’d miss my only daughter’s marriage proposal?” Her father laughed. He gave Leary another affectionate pat on the shoulder. “You did great, by the way. Very chivalrous and romantic. You’re a natural at this.” He seemed to think about his own words for a second, and then added, “But don’t think you’re ever doing it again. This is a one-time deal.”

  “I’m in this for life, Mr. Black. Don’t worry about that.”

  “I’m not worried at all,” he said. “And call me Dad”

  After dinner, Jessie and Leary walked back to their apartment holding hands. It was more of a public display of affection than they normally engaged in, but neither could resist. “I guess we’ll have to tell everyone at work,” Jessie said. Leary heard the note of nervousness in her voice.

  “I don’t think anyone’s going to be too surprised.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance and bumped her hip against his as they walked. “Probably not.”

  “But just in case,” Leary said, “maybe we should take tomorrow off. Spend it at home. In bed.”

  Her smile widened. “I think that’s a very prudent idea.”

  46

  Jessie and Leary visited Kelly Lee’s office about a week later. The Rowlands were there, as was Noah Snyder, who was filling a rocks glass with Scotch. Cheyenne was there, too, looking happy to be back at work, although still wary of Snyder.

  “Anyone want a drink?” The silver haired lawyer smiled graciously, as if he were welcoming all of them to his office. “How about you, Leary? Jessie, you want another glass of my good stuff?”

  Leary accepted a glass, but Jessie declined. Her focus was on Kelly, who seemed to be recovering reasonably well from her ordeal. Her body still bore the evidence of what she’d endured, and she would walk with a limp for the rest of her life, but the distant, shell-shocked expression she’d worn during her rescue had been replaced with the bright, intelligent look Jessie remembered from law school.

  Kelly was working again. The class action suit was moving forward, and Jessie’s understanding was that the case was progressing well. Kelly relied on Snyder to be the face of the team in court while she recovered. Kelly believed—probably correctly—that her physical condition would distract the jury. But knowing Snyder as she did, Jessie assumed Kelly was doing all of the heavy lifting behind the scenes. Nevertheless, the two seemed to get along and make a good legal team.

  The Rowlands, while not exactly happy, seemed to be in better spirits than the last few times Jessie had met with them. The progress they were making in their case against Boffo Products Corporation seemed to be having a healing effect on them, and they made no effort to hide their satisfaction about the mess of civil and criminal suits in which Douglas Shaw was currently embroiled. Jessie supposed no courtroom victory could ever heal the wound of a lost child, but she could see that it was helping. Maybe that was enough.

  The door opened behind them, and Jessie and Leary turned. A large man burst into Kelly’s office. He wore a bulky, ill-fitting suit, under which Jessie thought she recognized the bump of a concealed weapon. Leary stepped protectively in front of her.

  “Get to cover,” he said. The words came out quietly, through gritted teeth.

  “You know this guy?”

  “Shaw’s personal thug. Met him at Boffo.”

  “This is a private office,” Graham said. She had her gun in her hands. “Leave now.”

  The man didn’t leave. He had the steely gaze and grim expression of a hardened criminal. Jessie’s body went tense. She mentally braced herself for a firefight.

  “I’m not going to ask twice,” Graham said.

  The tension in the room was abruptly broken by a laugh. It was Snyder, wearing a huge and very amused smile.

  “Easy, supercop. Troy is a friend.”

  “He’s no friend,” Leary said. “He’s one of Douglas Shaw’s henchmen. A bodyguard or something. Trust me, we encountered this goon at Boffo’s headquarters.”

  Snyder laughed. “This goon, as you call him, is the linchpin of our case. Jessie Black, Mark Leary, meet Troy Fowler. You remember when Kelly told you she had a mole inside Boffo who was helping her? Troy’s the mole. When Kelly was thought dead, he stopped communicating. Can’t really blame him. But now that Kelly’s back, Troy is back, too, along with all his wonderful, juicy, incriminating witness testimony.”

  Leary turned to Kelly. His face looked incredulous.

  Kelly nodded. “It’s true.”

  Troy approached Leary and extended a hand. “Sorry I couldn’t tell you. With Kelly gone, I didn’t know who to trust.”

  Leary shook the man’s hand. Graham put away her gun and did the same.

  “No apology necessary,” Graham said. “Thank you for doing the right thing.”

  Jessie felt a touch on her arm and turned to see Kelly looking at her with an uncertain expression. “Can we talk? In private?”

  “Of course,” Jessie said.

  When they were alone in another room, Jessie said, “How are you holding up?”

  Kelly’s shoulders sagged, but then she seemed to rally. “I’m doing okay. I feel like I’m working through it. Sometimes, I still wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares, and sometimes I find my mind wandering during the day, or just, like, shutting itself off. But slowly, I’m becoming the old me again. I can feel it.”

  “Good,” Jessie said.

  “What about you?”

  Jessie thought about it. She had a lot to be thankful for. She was engaged to the man she loved. The Rowlands’ trial was back on track. Ray Briscoe was in custody—arrested by Lorena Torres—and facing murder charges now that the real identity of the body in Kelly’s car had been formally established as that of the missing councilwoman. But Jessie still had sleepless nights. She would often lie awake thinking of what could have happened to her in Briscoe’s torture room, and of what actually had happened. Sometimes she would remember, too vividly, the sensation of driving the scalpel into Briscoe’s chest.

  “I guess I’m working through it, too,” she said.

  “I never really thanked you,” Kelly said. “I want to do that now. From what I’ve heard, you were the only person who didn’t give up on me. You didn’t believe the car accident was what it appeared. I owe you my life.”

  “You’re welcome. But you don’t owe me anything.”

  Kelly’s gaze wandered to her feet. “Are we friends, Jessie? Ever since you got me out of that hellhole, you’ve seemed…. I don’t know. Cold.”

  Jessie looked away. Had her feelings been so obvious? “It’s nothing.”

  “Please, Jessie. If something’s on your mind, just tell me.”

  Jessie took a breath and met the woman’s gaze. “Emily Graham.”

  “The cop who helped rescue me?”

  “The cop you brought a misconduct claim against years ago. A claim that was bogus and could have—maybe did—hurt her career.”

  Kelly took a step back. Her face changed as she seemed to remember. “I thought the name sounded familiar. Look, Jessie, if my client’s claim wasn’t true, I didn’t know that. I—”

  “It’s not a one-time occurrence.” Jessie felt anger rise within her like heat in her chest. She hesitated, not sure whether she should continue. Kelly was still recovering from a hugely traumatic event. Was this the right time for this discussion? But she continued bec
ause something inside her wouldn’t let her remain silent. “It’s a pattern, Kelly. Vicki Briscoe—”

  At the sound of the woman’s name, Kelly shuddered.

  “The medical malpractice claim against Vicki Briscoe was false, too,” Jessie said. “Leary talked to your client. We know you fabricated the lack of informed consent. You manipulated the facts to extort the hospital’s insurance company, and in the process, Vicki Briscoe lost her job and her medical license. Her whole career.”

  “I think I’ve been punished enough for that.”

  Jessie didn’t respond. Whether Briscoe’s revenge absolved Kelly wasn’t Jessie’s call to make. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “The Rowlands’ case is real. And from now on, cases like theirs are the only ones I intend to take. I’m done with the legal games.”

  “I hope that’s true, Kelly.”

  “It is.” Kelly shifted uncomfortably, almost shyly. “Do you think we could have lunch sometime?”

  Jessie thought about it, then nodded. “Sure.”

  Kelly’s face brightened. “I’d like that.”

  They returned to the main office, where Snyder was regaling his audience with a courtroom war story. Leary caught Jessie’s eye from across the room. His expression asked if everything was okay. Jessie nodded, and walked over to join him.

  47

  Jessie took a deep breath of the elevator’s stale but familiar air. It felt good to be back inside the Criminal Justice Center, where courtrooms buzzed with the routines and traditions of Pennsylvania criminal law and procedure. She touched the button for her floor. The elevator doors were about to close when Randal Barnes darted into the elevator.

  “Morning, Jessie.” The defense attorney smiled, catching his breath.

  “Hi, Randal.”

  “I heard the big news. Congrats!”