Just Cause

by Carolyn Arnold

  “Well, well. I’m surprised you answered for me, or maybe you never saw your caller ID.”

  “What do you want, Mr. Golden?”

  “Oh, we’ve gone back to the formal name. How have you been?”

  “Stuff it. Point.”

  “I heard you showed up at my client’s house, Donald Barnes. His wife is livid, Madison.”

  “You can call me Detective Knight.” Madison couldn’t believe what she had ever seen in Golden. Her mind traced to their intimate encounters and how he had been so affectionate. Despite her hatred for him, she found herself craving a man’s touch. Troy Matthews’s words came to mind, if you wanted to be in my arms, Madison, all you’d have to…

  She realized the phone was left to hang in silence and Terry had gotten into the car.

  “You can’t talk to these men, Mad—Detective Knight. They are protected by representation.”

  “They have never stated this to me,” she lied.

  “Well, they are. Know it, and stay away from them. I don’t want the next call to be from McDonald’s wife.”

  Madison hung up on him and got into the car. She yanked out on the belt and did it up. “Ol’ McDonald had a pig—and that was his lawyer. The nerve of that man.”

  “What bothers you more—the fact he’s on Dimitre Petrov’s payroll or the fact that you used to sleep with him?”

  She glared over at him. “I’ll pretend you never said that.”

  Terry pointed to the clock on the dash. “Time to go see Freeman.”

  “Nice subject change.” She dragged her eyes from him, her mind going down a dark path that somehow involved a lawsuit against her along with Blake’s two so-called witnesses. “Do you think it’s possible that they’ll come after me in some way?”

  “Lawsuit or murder?”

  “Lawsuit. This is why you looked these men up, isn’t it? You wanted to be prepared for me, in case they found a hole that made it possible.”

  “I—”

  “Well, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. If there is anything to find against these men, you’ll find it.”

  She glanced over at Terry.

  He held his palms out, face up. “Hey, I know you, and you don’t stop at anything.”

  Matthews’s nickname for her came to mind—Bulldog. Hopefully, he would come up with something else. She shook her head at that thought, why did he need one for her at all? “And since when is being thorough a bad thing?”

  “I never said it was. But when you put your life, or the lives of others, in danger, it is.”

  “Oh, we’re back to that. Are you sure you want to talk about this?” She took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel.

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” Terry undid his belt and positioned his body to face her. “Tell me the truth, I’m your partner. Did you go in with your gun pulled?”

  She studied his eyes. They analyzed hers in return. Maybe it was time to speak the truth. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” He mocked laughter.

  “Terry, I’m being serious here. I don’t remember. I think it was just the entire experience. My mind’s shut that part down.”

  “But it didn’t shut down the part about being tortured, did it? I see how you disappear on me.”

  She took a stymied breath. She did her best to replay it in her mind, but her thoughts went from shades of gray to a white canvas. She shared what she remembered. “The girl from the front left after I asked for Sergey. I heard a noise. I remember Sergey was on the staircase. He was surprised to see me. Anatolli came up behind me and put a gun to my head.” Tears filled her eyes. They came too fast to hide them. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t have to explain myself to you, or to anyone.”

  She put the car into gear, depressing the gas pedal a little too far. The car lurched forward as it accelerated.

  He straightened and did up his belt. “I’m not asking you to explain yourself. I just want to know exactly what happened. I’m your partner.”

  “You say that like we’re married or something. You live your life, I’ll live mine.”

  Silence.

  “That’s how you want it, then that’s how it will be.”

  “Terry.”

  “Nope, that’s okay. You keep it all bottled up, and someday when you explode, I hope I’m nowhere around you.”

  THEY DROVE TO KNOCKTURNL IN SILENCE, with each of them absorbed in their thoughts. Madison focused on what doctors labeled PTSD, what happens when a person needs to cope with a life-threatening, or extreme situation. She had lived through hell and emerged from its flames with only the odor of smoke on her clothing.

  What if she wasn’t so lucky next time?

  On the count of three, pull the trigger.

  She pinched her eyes shut. When she opened them, instead of seeing the cityscape around her, she was back inside the torture room. It was so clear.

  The flavor of blood was all I could taste, all I could inhale.

  Sergey paced around in front of me while Anatolli held the gun against my forehead.

  Terry shoved her arm. “Madison? Maddy?”

  “Yeah?” She felt like she was being torn from the waking nightmare. Maybe if she sounded disinterested, he would buy it and move on.

  “Madison,” Terry yelled and reached for the wheel.

  It was then she noticed that the car had veered to the right.

  She made the correction.

  “I’m fine.” She rubbed a sweaty palm on her thigh.

  He looked at her lap, back to her eyes. “I know you’re lying to me.” He glanced at the road, then back to her. “Can you be honest with me for once?”

  There was an earnestness in his eyes, begging her ego to let go so that she would answer him and not divert. To do so, though, she would become vulnerable.

  She thought back to Dr. Connor and what she had said about Terry. He had a lot going on in his life and it wasn’t fair to gamble with her life when his lay full of uncertainties.

  “I’m fine,” she said the words while inside she screamed for help.

  She knew he watched her profile, but if she made eye contact, he would have inquired more than she felt like satisfying.

  -

  Chapter 50

  BRITNEY SMILED WHEN THEY CAME through the doors at Knockturnl. “Mr. Freeman is back, but I’m afraid he’s in meetings all day.”

  “I’m sure he will find a few minutes for us,” Madison said.

  Britney glanced to her computer monitor and back to them. “He’s in a fifteen-minute window right now. I can try him.” She pressed a button on the headset she wore. “Detectives are here to see you, Mr. Freeman.” Her eyes shifted between them. “Uh-huh, okay...will do.” She disconnected the call. “He’ll be down. In the meantime, if you want to make yourselves comfortable in the conference room.” Britney gestured to a corner room.

  MASON FREEMAN DIDN’T LOOK MUCH different than he had years ago. His skin was kissed by the sun, likely from his recent trip, and he was still handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes.

  The discernible difference in Freeman’s eyes was the fleck of experience. He was both a father and the owner of a successful company.

  “Detective Knight, it’s been a long time.” He shook her hand.

  “We have some questions for you.”

  “Let me guess. This is about Bryan Lexan. Jessica said you were by the house, but I thought we answered all of your questions years ago.”

  “Some new developments have come up.”

  “I saw the assassinations on the news.”

  Madison played the art of silence. The thought that Freeman was behind the Russians’ murders never really held weight for her. But one never knew, and with his father having had prior connections to the mafia, it was possible Dimitr
e had him do his bidding.

  Freeman must have sensed her thoughts as he looked from her to Terry, back to her. “You think I had something to do with that?”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course not. I have nothing to do with them or with Bryan’s death.”

  “Jessica told us about a threatening letter she saw.”

  “Well, if she saw something, she never told me about it.”

  Madison didn’t believe him. Something in the reflection of his eyes gave him away. “So you’ve never heard of this before now?”

  “No.”

  “This letter was given to Bryan Lexan weeks before his murder.”

  “As I said, I had nothing to do with it.” Freeman leaned back into the plush leather of the swivel chair he sat in.

  “Your claim to innocence years ago was that you wouldn’t have a motive. You had the girl.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You also provided us with an alibi for the night of his murder.”

  “Yes, I was with Jessica.”

  At the time, Madison hadn’t given much thought past the fact that he had an alibi. Jessica had confirmed they were together, and because Madison was fixated on Dimitre Petrov, it made for an easy pass.

  “We have questions about your father’s business dealings.”

  “What about them?”

  “Our research,” Madison gestured to Terry, “has led us to discover that Mr. Freeman Senior had business dealings with Dimitre Petrov.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.” Freeman crossed his arms.

  “So you’re not denying this knowledge?”

  “I don’t see your point.”

  “You knew that he had dealings with the Russian Mafia boss?”

  “I know that if he did, it was for a very good reason. And I’m not going to sit here and listen to you destroy his name. My father was an honorable man, Detective.”

  Madison studied his face and she was buying some of what Freeman said. He was aware of his father’s dealings, but not necessarily the details. She switched the subject back to the letter.

  “Do you know why Jessica never mentioned this letter until now?”

  “I don’t. I guess you’ll have to ask her that question.” He twisted his wrist to check his watch and bounded up. “I’ve got a meeting. I trust you understand.”

  “Actually, there is one more thing.” Madison put an envelope on the table and shuffled it toward him.

  “An envelope?”

  “Yes. Do you recognize it?”

  “Detective, I’ve been cooperating—” He lifted the stationary from the table, flipped it over, and then put it back down. “It’s the same style we have here, less the name in the top right-hand corner.”

  “So you admit to having this type of envelope?”

  Freeman took a seat again. “Where are you headed with this?”

  “Well, you had reason to hate Bryan Lexan. He misled Jessica, hurt her deeply, as I recall.”

  “But it was over between them. I really have to go.”

  “A piece of this envelope was found in the driveway where he was shot. Do you know how it got there?” Madison asked.

  “Did it have my company name on it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then I fail to see your point.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I mean, even it did, it doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it. On top of that, hundreds of companies would use these envelopes. What about the Russians? I thought they were the focus of your investigation? Why are you coming back now and trying to upset my life? Jessica’s life? She doesn’t need this. I’m sorry, but if you need anything further from me, you can do it through my lawyer.”

  Freeman got up and headed to the door. “I trust you’ll see yourself out.”

  MADISON SETTLED BEHIND THE WHEEL and turned the ignition. “We still need to answer why Jessica held back about that note all this time. It doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “But still, murder her ex-boyfriend?”

  “He put her through a lot. I remember she told me they went a long ways back. She seemed affected when we delivered the death notice.” Madison remembered that point in time perfectly. She’d gone to her place of work. Jessica’s female friend was there, and Freeman came running into the room not long after. In fact, thinking back on it, the timing had been impeccable as if he were on standby for the call. These thoughts went through in rapid progression and then a revelation hit her. “Terry.”

  “Yeah.”

  She looked over at him. “Freeman said he thought the Russians were the focus of the investigation.”

  “Yeah, so.”

  “What would make him say that?”

  Terry let out an impatient exhale. “He knew who Lexan represented. Any human being who watches thrillers, or reads them, would have their mind jump to mafia retaliation. Besides, wasn’t Dimitre’s threat against him even in the news?”

  “No, there was something more there.” She sat back, taking her hands off the wheel, letting the vehicle idle in the lot. “He had firsthand knowledge that they knew.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Okay,” she shifted to angle toward him, “Lexan loses the case. Fine. Dimitre threatens his life.”

  “Yes, it was in the media like I said. It’s probably why Freeman jumped to that conclusion.”

  “Dimitre threatened him, but when Lexan was declared dead the first time, it wasn’t the Russians behind it.” Her eyes enlarged. “Yes, that’s it. It explains a lot.”

  “Mind filling me in?”

  “I’m trying. Okay, so the lawyer schemes his death, Dimitre finds out about it.”

  “All right, so then you’re thinking Sergey and Anatolli told Dimitre they took care of him, when they hadn’t?”

  Adrenaline beat through her system. “They did fail him, but they ended up making things right.”

  “So you don’t think that Freeman killed Lexan?”

  She shook her head. “You know what I think.”

  “Please tell me.”

  “He told Dimitre that Lexan was still alive.”

  “I get where you’re going with this. Freeman would have revenge for Jessica, for all the pain Lexan caused her by staging his death.”

  “And the Russians would get what they wanted.”

  “The AWOL lawyer.”

  “Yes. Freeman got Lexan killed, but didn’t pull the trigger.”

  “And it explains why Sergey and Anatolli were killed.”

  “Dimitre must have waited for the perfect time all these years. When I came around and dredged up the past and brought it to light.”

  “Time was up.”

  Madison nodded. “So they ended up coming through for Dimitre or hired someone who did. Possibly the same killer we have running around trying to clean up messes right now, but now that killer is working directly for—” She slammed her palm against the steering wheel. “Oh my God, it just struck me now.”

  “Maddy?”

  She turned to him. “The letter I got from Dimitre came after Lexan staged his death. Dimitre was saying he never killed him then, but if what Jessica says is true, she saw the letter threatening Bryan’s life before he proposed. He proposed just before faking his death.”

  “What a gem.”

  “Yeah.” The word slipped out, distractedly. “This just confirms what we were talking about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It confirms that Dimitre knew his men had lied to him. They would have told him they killed him when, in fact, Bryan had disappeared. When he turned up ‘dead’ then Dimitre knew that his men didn’t do it.”

  “He has been biding his time all along.”

  “Yes. Now, he must have let it rest because they eventually did follow throu
gh.”

  “They hired this assassin we’re looking for now.”

  “I believe so.”

  -

  Chapter 51

  “WE NEED SOME ANSWERS, CYN.” Madison stormed into the lab, Terry following her.

  Cynthia folded up a sweater she had been examining and put it back into an evidence bag. She made her notations on it and looked up at them over her glasses. They were perched halfway down her nose, but instead of making her look older, it gave her a studious appearance most men would term “sexy librarian.”

  “What do you think I am? An answer machine?”

  “I’m hoping so.”

  “Well, Sam’s processing the bullets taken from Douglas’s maid, and the two Russians.”

  “And?”

  “Patience, woman. As I said, she’s processing, as in still working on it. As soon as I know something, I’ll let you know. You have my word.” Cynthia went to her computer and turned it off, then grabbed her jacket.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have a date.” Cynthia passed a glance to Terry.

  “In the middle of all this?”

  Cynthia stopped moving. “Yes, in the middle of all this. One, it will still be here tomorrow, and two, I’ve been pulling a lot of overtime lately. I need a break.”

  “You’re leaving us like this?”

  Cynthia was already at the doorway, where she spun and waved good-bye.

  MADISON WAS FURIOUS THAT CYNTHIA had left them hanging like that, but rationally she also saw that her friend needed time out of the lab. She thought about going back to Cracker Jack but shook the notion as juvenile. The goal would be a hopeful expectation that Matthews would show up again. What was her heart trying to get her involved with?

  She picked up an order of Chinese and opted for going back to her apartment. After taking Hershey out, she came back in and hugged him briefly before rooting through her utensil drawer for a fork. She had never gotten the knack of chopsticks.

  She ate quickly. If she wasn’t careful, she’d give herself indigestion from the speed. She remembered she hadn’t eaten since that morning and today had been a tough one. She took a draw on the wine she had also bought.