Foreign Relations: A Finn O'Brien Thriller (Finn O'Brien Thriller Series Book 2)

by Rebecca Forster

  "Only your investigation has garnered interest, Detective O'Brien. I have a solid ID from Detective Anderson now. I'm asking for an order to take a swab from Oliver Smythe as well as searching his possessions. Detective Anderson was very specific as to clothing. Hopefully, I'll bring the gentleman back with me to Wilshire."

  "Will you have someone go with you?"

  "I think not," Morrow said. "Given what you've told me, I assume his arrogance will keep him from taking his arrest seriously. He will probably find this all very amusing."

  "Whatever works for you," Finn said. "And Thomas, have you—"

  Before Finn could ask his question, the bedroom door opened.

  "Finn." Amber called to him. "Mom wants to see you."

  Finn nodded and pushed his chair away from the table. He was about to tell Lapinski to go on without him but then he saw that Thomas was typing away, looking perplexed and intent.

  "Back in a minute," Finn said.

  Thomas gave a small nod and hit one more keystroke before he leaned close to the screen. Morrow looked between the two men and thanked his lucky stars that Cori Anderson – while a lovely woman – was not his type.

  CHAPTER 36

  "Cori? What are you needing?" Finn asked when he went into her room.

  When the only answer he got to his question was the sound of Cori crying, he understood what she needed. Facing death and coming out the other side was enough to bring anyone low, didn't he know. When he had seen the light calling to him, Bev hadn't known what to do. She hovered near him, afraid to touch him, having no words to comfort him. It was hard seeing a strong man cry; it was no easier seeing a strong woman do the same. Finn went to the bed and gathered her up in his arms.

  "It's about time you had a good cry woman. Sure wouldn't you be a strange one if you didn't." Finn patted her back. "It will all be fine. I'm promising you that. Sure it will."

  Cori pulled away and ran the back of her hands across her eyes and then one across her nose for good measure. She pointed to the Kleenex box and Finn obliged with a handful of tissue.

  "Don't tell me I'm ridin' a cow when I know I'm sittin' on a bull," Cori said before she blew her nose. When she was done, she shook her head back. She looked pitiful with her black egg of an eye and her bruising but she wanted no delicate treatment. That didn't mean she didn't want something. "Listen up, O'Brien, this is serious. I need you to promise me something."

  "No. I'm not promising anything when you're in a state," he said.

  "Promise me or I'll get Lapinski in here and make him promise."

  Cori sniffled. Tears still squeezed from her eyes. She was a hair from a breakdown but her chin was set and she would fight it off as long as she could. Finn smoothed her hair back with one hand and put the palm of his other against her cheek but when she shook him off and crossed her arms he gave in.

  "Alright. I don't know what you're wanting, but if you're desperate enough to threaten Thomas then I best listen. What is it you're needing me to promise?"

  "Promise me that you'll take care of Amber and Tucker if anything—"

  "Nothing will—"

  "Promise me," Cori insisted, taking his arm in both her hands and shaking it. "I'm not regretting what I did. Hali would be dead if I hadn't gone in there, but this was a wake-up call. The next time I might not be so lucky and I don't want Amber drifting. I don't want Tucker growing up with a bunch of guys who were born sorry.

  "All this time I thought I was showing Amber how to be strong but I was just falling up a tree. She thinks I hate her."

  "No, Cori, she doesn't. I know this. Trust me," Finn said. Amber had said as much in the hospital. No one who hated a parent could be as worried as she had been.

  "If I die, I don't want her remembering me as a bad mother. I want someone there to tell her I was a good mom and remind her how much I love her and Tucker."

  "Do you want me to talk to her now?" Finn asked.

  "No, I want you to be there for her and that little man when I'm buzzard bait. I swear, O'Brien, I can't rest until you promise you'll do this if anything happens to me." When Finn didn't promise right off, Cori's face fell. She lowered her voice. "I will haunt you forever if you don't do this for me. Please, O'Brien."

  Finn took her hand. He shook his head. Any other woman would be moaning with her pain and her fear but not Cori. She was wanting to wrangle an Irishman into her personal rodeo.

  "I promise, Cori, that nothing will happen to you. And I promise, should I be wrong about that, I will…"

  Before he could promise to do his best by Amber and Tucker should the good lord call Cori home before she bedeviled the bad guys here on earth, there was knock on the door. Thomas Lapinski poked his head in to the room a second later.

  "Sorry to bother you two, but could you come look at something Detective O'Brien?"

  "Be right there, Thomas."

  Finn stood up and then leaned down to kiss Cori's brow. He cupped her face in his hands. "Nothing will happen to you. That's my promise."

  Cori, put her hands atop his. "Promise the rest of it, O'Brien."

  "I promise to do as much as Amber is willing, and that will have to do. Give her her due, Cori. She is a fine girl." Finn took her shoulders and gently pushed her back onto the pillows. "Sleep, now. We've work to do."

  Worn out, she closed her eyes without calling him on the carpet for his dodge. When she was feeling better he would take her to Micks and they would talk about anything she wanted, but tonight Amber and Tucker were safe and Cori along with them.

  "What is it, Thomas?" he asked as soon as the door to the bedroom was closed.

  "A match popped up on the facial recognition software I've had running. It's pointed to a frame I captured from one of the security videos. I only have two points of recognition right now – between the collar of the jacket and the bottom of the hat so I know it's not much. It's pretty much the jaw area and I know it might be wrong. And remember this isn't my thing, but take a look at what popped up."

  Having given all the qualifiers he could think of, Thomas turned his computer for Finn to look. There on the screen was a picture of Sharon and Matt Stover at a memorial for the long dead Frederick. The two points on the bridge video pointed to a match on Sharon Stover's jaw and chin.

  CHAPTER 37

  Cordelia was late for work because of her car but Missus Sharon didn't want to hear an excuse. Missus Sharon wanted what she wanted and that was to get the house ready for the party the next day, the one to celebrate her movie. Cordelia would have to work until midnight to get everything done and it upset the maid so much that she thought of quitting even if it would be expensive to fix her car.

  Cordelia was scrubbing the kitchen when she realized that she had forgotten to change the linens on Sharon's bed. If that wasn't done before the woman got home, there would be trouble. Cordelia hated it when Missus Sharon used bad words at her so she went through the house, stopped at the linen cabinet, got Sharon's favorite sheets and headed for the stairs.

  She hurried on, feeling upset and not just because Sharon Stover was expecting two days work in one, but because of Matthew. She had brought a cake and wished him happy birthday, but he had admonished her that it wasn't his birthday yet. She tried reminiscing about the cakes she had made for him when he was little, but he ignored her. She asked him what he was planning as a celebration for becoming a man. When he told her that was none of her business, she decided Matthew was lost to her.

  In the bedroom, she worked quickly, stripping the sheets, putting on the new ones before going to freshen the towels in the bathroom. But when she went to fold the toilette paper the way Missus Sharon liked it, the maid heard something that wasn't right. It was a strange sound: hurried and soft, like an animal rooting with a snuffle, a push and a rustle. Listening for any change in the sound, trying to decide where it was coming from, Cordelia picked the heavy mirror up off the vanity and held it at her shoulder. She moved out of the bathroom and into the big bedroom. The
door that led out of the bedroom to the stairs was to her left, and to get out of it she would have to pass by the huge closet where Missus Sharon kept her clothes and purses and fake legs. It was also where the safe was and the burglar must know that because that's where the sound was coming from.

  But how could a burglar get into the house without the security company knowing? Every window and door was wired to sound an alarm. Then Cordelia remembered she hadn't locked the front door when she came in. Tightening her grip on the mirror, she peeked through the half open door and saw that it was not a burglar at all. Matthew was standing on the stool that Sharon used to reach the top shelves. He was taking down her purses, looking in each one before putting them back.

  Her Matthew was stealing. She knew Missus Sharon wasn't a nice woman but this was not right. Still, it was between them and Cordelia wanted nothing to do with it. Before she could sneak away unnoticed, something caught Matthew's attention. Perhaps it was her breathing, perhaps the light reflected itself in the mirror, but whatever it was there was no escape. He jumped off the stool and ripped open the door.

  "Where is it you bitch! Where is it?" Matthew screamed.

  "Querido Dios Ayúdame!" Cordelia screamed for God's help as she threw her arms up and fell back.

  Matthew's fists were raised, his eyes were bloodshot from the drugs and his anger was white hot. When he didn't hit her, when all she heard was his heavy breathing, Cordelia lowered her arms a little and looked at him. He blinked at her and swallowed and shook his head hard.

  "Oh my God, Cordelia. I am so sorry."

  When he fell into her arms, Cordelia let loose of the heavy mirror. It fell to the floor with a thud. When he heard that, Matthew pushed her back but he didn't let her go. He shook her. He smelled like beer and smoke and whispered like a madman.

  "Cordelia, you've got to help me."

  "Matthew, you are hurting me. Matthew stop." She squirmed and tried to wiggle away but he was too strong for her. "Matt, please. Let me go. Then you tell me what—"

  "You know Diane? Cordelia, do you remember Diane?"

  Cordelia nodded, hesitant, unsure of how to answer him.

  "Okay. Okay. Well, you know she's dead, right?" Matthew's words tripped over each other. "Right? You know that, right?"

  "Muerto?" Cordelia's eyes widened. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Matt didn't notice her surprise. He just kept staring at her and shaking her.

  "Diane left something here, and I need it. I need it really bad, and I can't find it. So you have to help me, okay? Okay?" He dragged her into the closet. "You know where Sharon keeps all her stuff. I think she's got it. And if she's got it then I know she's going to make it seem like I did it and that's not the way it was…"

  "Matthew, you talking crazy. Matthew, I don't know the way anything is. Please, let's go out of here."

  "No, I need it." He took her by one arm and dragged her further into the closet.

  "What Matthew. What has she got? You mean Missus Sharon?"

  "Yes, Sharon," he spat out her name. "Do you know what she did to me, Cordelia? Her and Diane? Do you know what they did to me?"

  Cordelia shook her head again, afraid to say anything.

  "Well, it's bad, Cordelia. You're the only one I can trust. I need to find it. You go through the drawers. It's a purse. I can't remember what it looks like, but I know it's a purse and there's…inside is her…Oh, shit, Cordelia, you've got to help or…"

  Cordelia had enough. This wasn't sad anymore, it was dangerous so she dug in her heels and pulled back as Matt pulled forward. She wanted to get out of the house and away from him.

  "No, Matthew. You let me go now," she begged. "We should go out of here. Missus Sharon will—"

  Matt swung the maid in front of him and threw her against the wall of shelves. Her arms went up as the heavy purses rained down on her. Matt swung at them, screaming and cursing as Cordelia cringed.

  "I don't give a shit what Sharon wants. Don't you get it? She's going to get rid of us one at a time, Cordelia. She's—"

  Terrified, sobbing and shaking, the maid sank to the floor. She turned her face to the wall sure that Matthew had taken so many drugs that he had lost his mind. Just when she thought even God couldn't help her, she heard:

  "Cordelia! Goddamn it, the tables aren't set."

  Matt's head snapped toward the sound of Sharon's voice. Cordelia got to her knees and started to crawl to the door.

  "Missus Sharon! Help me, Missus Sharon," she screamed, but it did no good. She was old and carried too much weight to move quickly. Matthew had her before she went far.

  "Shut up. Shut up, Cordelia."

  "Missus Sharon."

  Cordelia screamed even louder but Sharon's angry voice collided with the terrified voice of the maid. Matt threw his hands over his ears and howled.

  "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

  As Cordelia opened her mouth to scream again, Matt brought the back of his hand down hard against her cheek. Stunned, Cordelia fell onto the floor of the closet just as Sharon Stover started up the stairs – and Matthew Stover started down.

  ***

  Aman and Rada sat in the grandmother's small backyard. Even though it was not the end of her mourning for Takrit, she stayed quiet in the house. The old woman brought them food and wine and they spoke to one another in low voices about all the years lost to them, the people they loved who were gone and the way life was not what they had expected it to be.

  It had been many years since Rada and Aman had seen one another. The last time was when they had been taken into the army, no more than children. Eventually, Emanuel took Rada to serve him and Aman to train as a minister. Rada had served well, Aman had not. He had married Takrit and they had made much trouble in Eritrea.

  Rada, to his shame, became deaf and dumb. He had not begged Emanuel for mercy for his friend; he had not tried to bribe anyone to save either Aman or Takrit. Rada had not run away from Emanuel's service to work with those who fought against the government. He had been afraid for his own life and the lives of his family until now. Now, after he had tended to Oliver, after he had heard what been done to Hali, after Emanuel had told him to go to the hills and kill the movie woman, Rada was changed. He did not go to kill the woman in Hollywood. Instead he came to the grandmother's house. He came to Aman – the friend he had loved like a brother – with the hope that there would still be caring between them. They talked a long while about the woman, Sharon Stover, who Aman hated but for different reasons than Emanuel did. Aman's hatred was for the woman's desire to shame Takrit; Emanuel's hatred for Sharon Stover was selfish. Rada, though, wondered if that woman deserved to be killed for the things she was. He thought not, but when they had finished talking Rada knew what must happen.

  "I cannot do this alone, Aman."

  To which Aman answered, "I will be with you."

  In the house Aman held the grandmother close and then Rada took her hands. He told the old woman the name of his wife and parents in Eritrea. Neither man told her where they were going, but she understood wherever it was they would go the place would not be good. They knew she understood this because, as they left the house, the woman began to keen for them. Aman and Rada stayed silent as they drove into the city and then into the special parking garage in the hotel that was reserved for people of importance.

  Aman had raised the hood of his shirt so as not to draw attention. That was not necessary because no one saw them when they got into the special elevator. When they reached the penthouse, Rada did not knock on the door of Emanuel's suite. He opened it and walked in. Light shined beneath the door of the bedroom. Rada motioned for Aman to wait quietly while he went ahead.

  Inside the room, Emanuel Dega Abu stood in front of a large mirror adjusting his bow tie. Across the jacket of his tuxedo was a sash of red and blue and green, the colors of the Eritrean flag. It was fastened with a golden starburst. This was a medal given to him by a grateful government. Since he was the government it was Emanu
el who had honored himself.

  "Where have you been—" Emanuel began only to stop talking when he saw Rada reflected in the mirror, still dressed in the clothes of a poor person. His fingers froze on the edges of his perfect tie and he looked more closely into the mirror at the reflection of his servant. When Rada did not speak, the president for life dropped his hands and turned to face the tall man.

  "Rada, have you done as I asked?"

  "No," Rada answered.

  Emanuel's eyes flicked away from Rada to the hooded man who now stood behind his servant. Emanuel looked at him with curiosity and caution. When the man slid back his hood the little man smiled a bit.

  "Aman. We have been looking for you and now here you are." When Aman remained silent, Emanuel went to his desk. "You have come to give me what Takrit took from our country, have you? I will pay you, of course. I will make everything right for you."

  Aman's gaze never left Emanuel's face and Emanuel did not look away from Aman even though he spoke to his servant.

  "Rada? You have a wife, do you not? You have parents in Eritrea, do you not?"

  Rada looked at the little man, resplendent in his tuxedo and his false medal that honored nothing. He was sad that he would probably never see his wife, his child or his parents. He hoped they would not suffer. He was even sad for what he was about to do, but he knew it had to be done.

  "I am no longer your servant, Emanuel Dega Abu," Rada said. Emanuel looked at Rada just as he unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and withdrew his gun from the holster.

  The light went out of Emanuel's eyes. He looked back to Aman. It was this way with those who are desperate; they look for salvation even from their enemies.

  "Aman?" Emanuel said.

  "I want the Australian," Aman said, as he showed his knife. "I want the man who threw my wife from a bridge, and I want you because you made it so."

  ***

  Finn pushed the call button on the gate in front of Sharon Stover's estate. He had not drawn any conclusions about Sharon's involvement in Takrit's death, for certainly Thomas's identification program was not something that would hold up in court. Finn also had no standing since the jacket on Takrit was officially closed. Still, he reasoned, there was no harm in asking a few questions. The case he would make to the captain for identifying Sharon Stover a person of interest in the death of Takrit would be this: