LIES OF THE PHOENIX (A Lieutenant Cassidy Mystery Book 1)

by Jeanne Tosti

  He felt he needed to say something. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out for you and Jordan.”

  “His name isn’t Jordan.”

  “I mean with your marriage and everything.” He knew he wasn’t handling this very well.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re not married. We never were,” she said curtly.

  “Uh, yes, well anyway, I’m sorry. I guess I should just shut up before I make things worse.”

  Sarah’s face softened. She knew she had been sharp with him for no reason. He was just trying to be nice. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I was venting and you got in the way. Sorry.”

  “No problem. I have a thick skin. Feel free to vent away.”

  A fleeting smile crossed her face and they both relaxed.

  Sarah gave a long sigh releasing some of the tension that she had been holding in. “It really was too good to be true. Too perfect. Like a fairytale. He was acting. The happier he made me, the fewer questions I would ask. I fell for it all.”

  “It’s not wrong to think the best about a person.” Ben was cautious with his comments. He had a lot of other opinions about the piece of trash that had taken advantage of Sarah’s good nature, but he didn’t want to burden her now with them as she was sorting out her own feelings.

  “It’s painful, but I can live with the fact that I was stupid and naïve. Jordan was only in my life for a few months. I was O.K. before I met him, and I will be O.K. again. What I don’t understand, though, is why he did it?”

  Ben hesitated for a second and then decided Sarah was ready to hear the answer to her question, “Sometimes hiding in plain sight is the most effective disguise. New identity, new city, new life. ”

  “I sure made it easy for him. He was probably laughing at me the whole time.”

  “You gave him instant credibility in a new community. Who’s going to be suspicious of a middle class newlywed with a lovely wife, a ready-made circle of friends, and a respectable, albeit fictitious, job?

  Sarah stared across the room thinking about Ben’s words. “He was like the mythical phoenix bird that bursts into flames and disappears, then rises again from his ashes to live a whole new life. He vanished from his life as Lloyd Nash in L.A., and then suddenly reappeared in Chicago as Jordan Lawrence in a whole new life—only it was my life, my house, my friends, my bank accounts. God, I was stupid. Why didn’t I see it?

  “Stop blaming yourself. He was running a con. At the time of the first break-in he knew his false identity cover had been blown, but he thought he took care of the problem when he killed Zykov. That proved not to be true. His Los Angeles associates found where he was hiding and he went on the run to get away. The question that we need to answer now is, what did Jordan have that they were willing to send a professional killer across the country to obtain?”

  He used the word we and caught himself. He wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure how Sarah felt about him butting into her life. Sarah gave no indication she even noticed his choice of words.

  She just leaned her head against his shoulder and said, “Yes, I agree with you. I’ve been going over everything and I am just drawing a blank on what it could be. I need to get back into my house and start looking for an answer.”

  “Whoa! You can’t go back there! Not for a while at least.” Again, his words were more commanding than he meant them to be, but he wanted her to know it was a really bad idea.

  She sat up and looked at him. “The police said I could go back there as soon as they finished collecting evidence.”

  “Well, yes, as far as the crime scene is concerned. But someone may still be watching your place. It’s not safe.”

  “I don’t plan on staying there! I just want to search through everything. I might find something that the police missed. After all, it’s my stuff and I’m the only one who knows what should or shouldn’t be there.”

  He had to admit she was making a valid argument, but he didn’t like the idea at all. “How about this. When Cassidy gives the Crime Scene Unit all clear for your townhouse, I will take you over there. We’ll go in daylight and you can look around for an hour or so, but no more. It’s just too dangerous.”

  Returning to the townhouse scared her, but she felt that she needed to go there in order to find answers. She accepted Ben’s offer immediately. She was beginning to appreciate his police sense. Maybe something would catch his eye that others had missed.

  As they sat in the Ruth’s family room she started to feel uncomfortable. She shouldn’t stay here any longer than necessary. It was time for her to leave—for Ruth’s family’s sake.

  “I think we should go,” she announced abruptly.

  Ben was caught off guard. “O.K., but Ruth is expecting us to stay for dinner.”

  “I’ll talk to her, she’ll understand.” Sarah got up from the couch and went to the kitchen.

  * * * * *

  Sarah had all her things packed and ready to go at the door. She said her goodbyes to Ruth and gave each of the kids a hug.

  “I don’t like this at all.” Ruth said as she tried to coral Brandon and Kate away from the door. “You call me if you need anything. Better yet, just call me every couple of hours so I know you are all right.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just trying to be extra cautious. You should be happy about that. Ben is taking me downtown and no one knows I will even be there so don’t worry. Things will calm down in a few days and everything will be back to normal.”

  The anxiety on Ruth’s face still showed and nothing that Sarah said made her feel any better.

  Despite Ruth’s misgivings, Sarah knew that leaving was the right thing to do. She couldn’t expose Ruth and her family to any danger. “O.K., I’d better get going. I’ll call you after I get settled in. Will that make you feel better?”

  “No, but call me anyway,” Ruth said as she bit her lip.

  As Sarah gave Ruth one more hug, Ben picked up the bags and headed to the car. Sarah followed him out. He loaded the bags into the trunk and then slid into the driver’s seat. They pulled out of the driveway and drove toward downtown. A black sedan that had been parked around the corner on a side street watched as they pulled away.

  Chapter 16

  HE WAS SITTING on a hard kitchen chair in the tiny apartment that he had sublet. His breaths were coming in gasps and a trickle of blood tracked down from the corner of his mouth. Another crushing blow slammed into his face and sent him sprawling to the floor. As he writhed in pain, the person responsible landed another blow with a kick to his midsection.

  “You worthless piece of shit! Get up! You had one thing to do and you couldn’t even get that right. Or maybe you were thinking you could cut your own deal with him and get away with it!” He kicked the writhing figure again to punctuate his words. “Tell me where he is.”

  Kyle Mason groaned in pain and tried to get up on his knees. His tormentor kicked him again and then sat down on one of the upright kitchen chairs.

  Kyle let out another groan and managed to crawl to his hands and knees. He inched his was to the table and pulled himself slowly into one of the chairs. His left eye was swollen shut, his lip was split and bleeding, and two teeth felt loose when he ran his tongue over them. The inside of his mouth felt like raw meat and he tasted the metallic tang of blood. He felt the urge to vomit, but thought better of it.

  “I can explain, just listen to me.”

  “I don’t want to hear your shit explanations. You knew the deal and what would happen if you didn’t deliver. Now I have to try to clean up your mess. If Zykov had been successful, there wouldn’t be this problem. You would be dead by now. His orders were to clean up all the loose ends and that’s what you are.”

  Hector Bazarov was a high ranking L.A. syndicate enforcer. He was trusted by his criminal betters and was as lethal as a cobra. He was old school and loyal to a fault. When there was a botched job, they would send Bazarov to clean things up. He was a bull and could intimidate by
his mere presence. His face was square and full with a nose that attested to having been broken several times. He was taller than average, with a short neck, massive arms and a barrel chest leaving no doubt that he could back up his words with power. And he was smart. Most of his criminal associates were no match for his guile and cunning.

  The Potestas crime syndicate of Los Angeles was a formidable organization. It wasn’t a family, but a group of nefarious elements that had joined forces for mutual gain. Their name was the Latin word for “power” and was meant to intimidate. Their collective resources were immense and any interference with their business was considered a death sentence. They routinely used independent enforcers to eliminate obstacles in their path. These freelance assassins had no connection to the syndicate making it hard for law enforcement to trace a trail back to the organization.

  “You’re going to tell me where he is.” Bazarov’s fist hit the table with the force of a sledge hammer and the table jumped sideways a half a foot.

  Kyle swallowed hard. He was trying to keep a grip on things, but he was in over his head. Bazarov’s appearance meant that the L.A. crime syndicate had lost patience with his scheme. He had to think of something to appease Bazarov and to buy himself some time.

  He tried to clear his dizzy head and think. “I, uh, don’t know where he is right now, but I know where his wife is.” He hesitated a second, fearful that his words would cause Bazarov to unleash another series blows. Bazarov sat quietly with cold dead eyes fixed on Kyle. He looked like a coiled cobra ready to strike.

  “She’s the key.” Kyle continued. “He’ll contact her. She trusts me. If I stay close to her, I’ll find him. I can get what you want. You just have to give me some more time.”

  Kyle had worked with Lloyd Nash, now calling himself Jordan Lawrence, for several years in L.A. He had discovered what Jordan was doing and knew the value of what he had acquired. He wanted in on the deal, but Jordan had kept him at arm’s length saying it was too dangerous.

  Nash’s syndicate partners were not happy when he disappeared from Los Angeles. They turned over every rock in L.A. looking for him and stumbled upon Kyle Mason. It was at that point that Kyle saw his chance to cash in on Jordan’s criminal efforts. Kyle flattered himself into believing that he was smarter and more cunning than both the L.A. syndicate and Jordan. He hatched a plan to play both sides of the fence that would provide him with a double financial reward.

  Kyle boasted about his experience in wheeling and dealing on the international investment market and offered his services to the Potestas organization. He said he could find Jordan and, for a fee, could bring back what they wanted. In reality, his goal was to take the syndicate’s money and then cash in on the lucrative international business deal that he was sure Jordan was trying to put together. With the L.A. mob breathing down Jordan’s neck and Kyle’s added threat to turn him in to the authorities, Kyle felt he held all the cards. He was sure Jordan would agree to divide up the purse and they could both disappear into a rich new life.

  Kyle received the go-ahead from the L.A. organization and was provided a portion of his fee and a generous amount for expenses. He was promised the remainder of his finder’s fee upon fulfillment of his contract, but was warned that failure was not an option.

  Tracking Jordan down proved fairly simple for Kyle. Over the years Jordan had mentioned that the easiest way to disappear would be to go to a big city, establish an average Joe identity, and just blend in. Jordan had mentioned that early in his career he had some connections in Chicago. Given Jordan’s financial background, Chicago’s financial center was the logical big city choice.

  Kyle took himself to Chicago. He knew that Jordan would have to establish a new identity and the first way to do that would be with a driver’s license. After a short search, he found a lonely female file clerk in Chicago’s DMV office. A couple of dinners and a few cheap gifts later she was in love and he was afforded access to all the new driver license applicants’ photos issued in Chicago during the month after Jordan left L.A. It was easy to scan through the photos of new male applicants until he came across the smiling face of Lloyd Nash, now using the alias of Jordan Lawrence. He had successfully found Jordan, but his plan to manipulate him had not worked out as well.

  Jordan was stunned when Kyle came knocking on the door of Sarah’s townhouse. Kyle threatened to expose his identity and location to the L.A. crime bosses if he wasn’t cut in on the Jordan’s international deal. He backed up his demand with threats of going to the police if Jordan failed to cooperate.

  Kyle appealed to Jordan’s business side as well. He bargained by saying he could keep the syndicate wolves at bay while Jordan negotiated his best deal on the international market. He argued that the international sale of the data Jordan possessed would generate more than enough money for the both of them. They could escape the entanglements of organized crime and just disappear financially set for life. In the end, Kyle believed that he had won Jordan over.

  Everything with the transaction seemed to be moving along well. Kyle fed tidbits of information back to L.A. to keep them satisfied that he had things in hand. He told them he had found Lloyd Nash, but needed time to acquire the stolen item. He cautioned that moving too fast could cause Nash to destroy the prize and bolt. Despite the short delay, he promised to have what they wanted shortly.

  In reality he was waiting for the big payoff Jordan was sure to arrange on the world market. Jordan in typical fashion, however, had orchestrated an all-out international bidding war and the transaction was dragging on day after day as the bids escalated. Kyle had pushed Jordan to close the deal, but Jordan resisted saying he wanted top dollar and that it would benefit them both.

  L.A. was pressuring Kyle for results and threatening action. Then, without warning, there was the townhouse break-in and Zykov was dead. The Los Angeles syndicate had grown tired of waiting. Things began to unravel.

  News of Zykov’s death took some time to leak back to the L.A. syndicate. When it did, Kyle was forced to try to smooth things over with Zykov’s handlers. He told them that sending Zykov had interjected unforeseen delays in obtaining what they wanted now that the police were involved. Kyle promised he would complete his assignment as soon as things settled down and the police lost interest. He thought he had convinced the syndicate that everything was back under his control and on track.

  What Kyle couldn’t do, however, was get Jordan to stop playing the market and make the sale. Things were stretching out too long. Kyle was fearful that he could not hold off the Los Angeles boys much longer. He was irritated with Jordan and his high stakes wheeling and dealing. He wanted Jordan to choose the highest bidder and close the deal, but Jordan resisted.

  Kyle added pressure by saying that L.A. was getting ready to send another hired gun to Chicago and they would both be targets. The new threat did not have the desired effect. Instead the threat materialized and Jordan went on-the-run. Kyle was left empty handed and in a panic. He would be forced to face the wrath of the syndicate alone and have nothing with which to bargain for his own life.

  In desperation, Kyle tried to get closer to Sarah Lawrence. He hoped that Jordan had left some clue with her, but so far that had been a dead end. He had torn their townhouse apart, but Jordan had left nothing to incriminate himself or to reveal where he was hiding. Kyle had run out of time. As he looked at Bazarov’s cold expressionless face the desperation of his situation began to set in.

  “I just need a little more time.” His injuries made it painful to even form the words. Kyle doubted that this powerful hulk had enough intellect to even listen to reason, but he had to try. It was the only option open to him. “It’s complicated. I won him over and almost had it. Then Zykov showed up and ruined everything. Police are all over that place now. You can’t blame that on me. I told them he was too smart for that strong arm stuff. They should have left it to me. Now it’s going to take a little more time. Things need time to settle down.”

  “Yea
h. A little more time. That’s just what you’re going to get.”

  Bazarov reached into his pocket and pulled out a length of cord. In one motion he pulled Kyle to his feet and lashed Kyle’s hands behind his back. He pushed Kyle through the door to the outside and walked him to the rear of a dark late model sedan parked in the alley. Bazarov fingered his key fob and the trunk lid popped open. Kyle looked at the gapping trunk and cold sweat ran down his back.

  “You can’t be serious. I’m not getting in there. I have this handled. Aren’t you listening to me? I—”

  One of Bazarov’s giant fists collided like a freight train with Kyle’s jaw. Kyle collapsed limply into the trunk with his feet hanging out. Bazarov reached down and tied a cord around his feet then pushed them inside the trunk and closed the lid. He lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs and then causally walked around to the driver’s side. He climbed in and drove away.

  Chapter 17

  BEN WAS CONCENTRATING on the traffic as he drove through downtown and wound his way through the streets to the corporate apartment where Sarah planned to stay. It would have to do for tonight. He didn’t have a better alternative to offer. Once the furniture arrived for his apartment tomorrow though, he would try to convince her to stay at his place.

  Sarah broke the silence, “This apartment that my company keeps isn’t very big, but it’s comfortable. I’m the one that does the scheduling for use by clients. It should work out fine.”

  “I’m sure it’s nice, but I don’t think you should be there by yourself. I’m going to take you up there and have a look around. We’ll go to dinner and I plan on hanging around until you throw me out.”

  “You have too many of your crime stories on the brain. This place is safe. The doorman checks every person that comes through the door. There’s nothing to worry about.”