by Linda Verji
Misha turned her attention to her own file. It was as sparse as Eric's. Michelle Artemis Alexander. Home invasion. Assailant unknown. .38 unregistered…
There! Even someone with a grape fruit brains would've figured out that the unregistered .38, meant there was a connection between her case and Eric's case. But there were no notations.
What the hell was going on here? This was the definition of shoddy work. Surely Tony was a better detective than this. She cruised the end of the document to confirm he was the one who'd signed off on this bullshit report, but was surprised to find that he hadn't.
Investigating Officers: Finbar Dent and Matt Kulback.
The same bumbling fools appeared in Eric's files as his case's investigating officers. Wasn't this case supposed to be Tony's? What was going on here?
CHAPTER 14
Misha knew Tony well, and he wasn't - couldn't be- in league with the Wildes. Sal? Maybe. Tony? Never! He was too straight. Honest to the point of being irritating. He was the kind of guy who picked up wallets and took them to the police with all the cash intact. One time Misha had tried to get him to skip on the bill in a restaurant that had kept them waiting for too long then served them crappy food; Tony had paid the full bill plus tip.
But this… this report looked suspicious as hell, and Misha had no intentions of letting it rest. Within minutes of reading it, she dialed Tony's number.
"Tony Wu."
"Hi, Tony," Misha greeted. "I-"
"No," he cut in.
What was it with people starting their conversations with her with the words 'No'? A more sensitive girl would be offended at their assumptions that she wanted something. Fortunately Misha wasn't the sensitive type. Adding sweetness to her voice, she said, "But Detective, you don't even know what I called you about."
"Oh, I know. You wanted to stick your nose into the case," Tony retorted. "And my answer is No. N. O. You got that?"
Injecting fake hurt into her voice, she said, "Contrary to popular opinion I have better things to do with my time than stick my nose into other people's business."
"Since when?" He guffawed.
"I just wanted to ask you if you'd pick me some spring rolls, dim sums and lamb from that Chinese place next to your building when you leave for lunch. But if you're feeling diva-ish, then fine don-"
"You want spring rolls?"
"Wanted." Misha sniffed dramatically. "You just made me lose my appetite."
"Fine, I'll bring them to you."
"No, don't. I can damn well-"
"Now, look who's being the diva," Tony said, obvious amusement in his voice. "Give me about an hour to get to your place."
Misha corrected quickly, "Actually, I'm at Danny's."
Tony's tone was considerably cooler when he asked, "You're at Danny's?"
"Yeah, his address is…" Misha rattled off the address then hung up before Tony could change his mind.
While she waited for him, she browsed through the internet looking for anything new on Eric. There wasn't much as he was seemingly not much of a social media guy. But she did find a copy of his resumé. She was reading through it when the doorbell rang.
Tony? Misha set her laptop on the coffee table and threw the covers off her so she could get the door but Sarah beat her to it.
"You have a visitor," Sarah announced when she came back a few minutes later.
"Hey, Shelly." Tony appeared behind Sarah, toting a white polythene bag and filling the room with the sweet, spicy, appetizing scent of food.
"Yay. Thank you." Misha pushed herself up on the pillows.
"You're welcome." Tony placed the bag of food on the side table and pushed it against the couch. Taking that as her hint to leave, Sarah left muttering something about Mr. Danny and being angry.
"I can’t believe you made me come all this way when you have a nursemaid at your beck and call." Tony shook his head as he settled on the beige, leather recliner next to the couch.
"Better two nursemaids then one." Misha chuckled as she rifled through the bag of food. "Where are the mixed veggies?"
"Tin with red lid." Tony's gaze wandered around the lounge taking in the large space, the luxurious furniture - beige to match the drapes, the professional décor, the expensive artwork, and the ceiling to floor windows that looked out to the pool. "Wow! This place is… wow. No wonder you left me for rich boy."
"I didn't leave you for Danny," she reminded him. "You left me. Remember? And Danny and I aren't together."
"Is that so?" he returned with an arched brow. What was with the 'is that so'? Misha opened her mouth to ask him to explain himself but he spoke first. "You look well. Much better than the last time I saw you."
"I feel much better." She returned the scrutiny and immediately noticed the bags under his eyes. "Unlike you. You look tired."
Tony shrugged. "You know. Work stuff."
Her pulse hopped a bit at the opening he'd just given her. Keeping her tone casual, she asked, "What work stuff?"
"Aha! I knew it," he pointed out triumphantly. "I knew you didn't bring me here for food."
Misha widened her eyes into innocent doe-like circles that would've given Bambi a run for her money. "So I can't ask you about what's bothering you without being accused of having ulterior motives? We haven't talked in some time and I'm worried about you."
Tony was quiet for a heartbeat then sighed. "I'm okay."
"You don't look okay." Her concern genuine, she said, "I hope it's not my case giving you sleepless nights."
Another long period of silence, then he said, "I can't talk about it, Michelle."
"Why not?" She pushed the covers away and set her feet on the floor. "Judging by how troubled you look, I assume the case isn't moving. I'm good at this sort of thing and it is my case. I can help you figure it out."
Tony glanced at her then down at the carpet. It was obvious he was weighing what he should say next and for a couple of seconds it looked like he might break. But he shook his head. "No. I can't."
"Okay." Though inside she was seething with frustration, Misha kept her expression neutral. She removed the food from the polythene bag and set it on the table. "I hope you're good with chopsticks because I don't feel like going to the kitchen to get forks."
"Chopsticks are good," he said but accompanied it with a suspicion-filled once-over. Were Misha a weaker woman she would've been squirming in her seat. Instead she calmly opened the containers and pushed two towards him. Tony's already narrow eyes narrowed further. "So no more questions about my investigation? It's not like you to let anything go that easy."
"I didn't say I was letting go." She shrugged. "I'm just not asking you anymore."
Tony glared at her. "What does that mean?"
"You're a detective. Figure it out." She rolled some noodles on her fork then bit into it.
"Is that a threat that you'll investigate whether I answer your questions or not?" Tony asked. She ignored the question and continued eating. He asked, "Or have you already started investigating?" Deducing the answer to his question from her silence, he cussed under his breath. "I'm going to kill Sal."
"Sal? Please!" Misha guffawed. "You put the fear of God into that woman. The CIA wouldn't be able to get anything out of her. But I have lots and lots of other sources within your little precinct." She waved her fork at him. "So, Wu, when were you going to tell me that you handed off my cases to a pair of buffoons that have been paid off by the Wildes?"
Tony opened his mouth. Closed it again.
She shook her head. "I'm disappointed in you, Detective. But that's okay, if you don't want to solve my case I'll solve it on my own."
"That's not what's going on here," he protested.
"Then what's going on?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Because all I see here is that you shipped my case off to the Siberia of NYPD cases. Which tells me you're trying to bury it. Which leads me to the conclusion that someone has been paid off. And right now that someone looks like you."
"I haven't be
en paid off," Tony protested. "You know me Misha. That's not me."
"I thought I knew you."
"This is far more complicated than you think." Tony ran a frustrated hand over his hair, removing the cue holding it back in the process. A curtain of thick luxurious hair fell to his shoulders to frame his strong jaw and troubled expression.
Be still mine heart! There was no doubt the man was fine. Determined not to be side-tracked by the attractiveness, Misha said, "Uncomplicate it for me."
Tony rubbed his hand over his forehead as if trying to determine how much he should tell her. Finally, he sat back in the recliner and his eyes met hers. "You're right about Dent and Kulback being the Siberia of our precinct, which is why I never would've sent this case to them. My Captain did?"
Misha's eyes widened. "Your Captain?"
"He hasn't been paid off either. He got his orders from the police commissioner." Tony waited for her to absorb that explosive tidbit before adding, "The Wildes wield a lot of power around here. Richard's a judge, Bradley's an Assistant District Attorney, Katherine's an Arl…"
"… an Arlington. I know," Misha cut in, recalling Katherine's threats. "Surely they're not that powerful."
"They are. They got media houses to stop following up on the story and used their political connections to ice the case. All I did was poke into their financial records. The next thing I know the Captain's telling me he's reassigning the case because I'm too close to it - you being my ex and all."
"But they knew you were my ex before they assigned it to you in the first place." They'd never hidden their relationship from anyone.
Tony shrugged. "The worst part is I hadn't even moved on the case so I couldn't defend myself. I didn't have anything connecting the Wildes to the case other than that Eric was Katherine's PA. Furthermore, I can't prove they did it. They all claim they were in the house and their butler's backing up the story."
"Really? Even Richard was in the house? Because that night he was conspicuously missing from the party." Misha questioned, "And what about the conversation between Katherine and Eric?"
"I questioned her. She said that it was a salary misunderstanding."
"No way." The pitch of Misha's voice rose with her shock, "There is no way that was all about his salary. Not with the way Katherine threatened me."
Anger flared in Tony's eyes. "Katherine threatened you?"
"Yeah. She came by the hospital…" Misha briefed Tony on everything that had occurred during the Wilde witch's visit. "I have a recording."
"You have a recording?" he asked, Misha's nod sparked a glint hope in his eyes. "That's good. Okay, this is good. This might help me get the Captain to give the case back to me or at least move it to someone better at their job."
"That won't be enough." Misha shook her head. When Tony gave her a questioning look, she added, "Like you said, the Wildes are powerful. We'll need a lot more to pump some life back into the case."
Tony's eyebrows shot up. "We?"
Misha ignored the question. "What about the gun? Any of them own a .38?"
"How do you know that it was a-" Tony raised his hand and shook his head. "Forget it. I don't want to know. No. None of the Wildes have a .38 registered to their name."
"Maybe they hired a hitman."
"That's what I thought. Especially when I saw the withdrawals-" Tony cut himself off.
"Oh, come on." Misha rolled her eyes, interpreting that his pause was because he'd suddenly remembered that she wasn’t a cop. "We're both working this case off-book. What's wrong with sharing information?"
"Everything!" Tony said, "And I seem to be doing all the sharing. What you got?"
Misha admitted, "Nothing so far." Before Tony could say something, she lifted her finger. "But - but if I get anything you'll be the first to know. And I swear I won't print this. I'm just trying to help."
"Misha you're practically bed ridden," Tony noted unnecessarily. "You’re not exactly in investigating shape."
"But I've got contacts. I assume the reason you haven't moved on this case is because the Wildes lawyered up as soon as they smelled you. But I bet one of them knows something, and since I have an in with them I might be able to get information to help us."
"An in?" Tony's tone was filled with disbelief. "Katherine doesn't trust you."
"Not Katherine. Lauren…" The youngest Wilde was a long shot, but she was the most likely to talk to Misha. "… or Bradley. We're friendly."
"The guy's a lawyer. He won't slip up and incriminate his own parents."
"It's worth a try." Misha added, "And they might know about the withdrawals you were talking about. But if you want me to prod, I need to know who withdrew what."
Tony hesitated for a long time, a really long time. In fact Misha was sure that he'd back out until he said, "Katherine withdrew fifty grand from her account, while Richard withdrew twenty five thousand."
Misha sucked in a breath. "All that? What did they say it was for?"
"Never got an answer." Tony said, "I was taken off the case the moment I started sniffing around their financials. All I can tell you is that Katherine's cash withdrawals were split into two; one withdrawal two weeks before Eric's death and a second one a week to his death. Richard withdrew his on the same day Eric was killed."
"Paying the hitman in installments?"
"Maybe." Tony pulled at his lower lip as if thinking. "But in such cases usually there'll be a withdrawal after the kill too."
"Or that's what Richard's withdrawal was for and he met the hitman later to pay him off," Misha posited as her brain raced furiously. A sudden thought hit her. "Wait, didn't Eric talk of wanting the rest of his money. Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way."
Tony gave her a questioning look.
She explained, "What if the money was for Eric, not a hitman?"
"You're right." Tony's eyes lit up. "If that theory's right then Eric's probably stashed that money somewhere. We find it and maybe I can tie Eric to the Wildes."
Her brow furrowed and her voice was thoughtful as she asked, "If Eric was blackmailing them, surely he communicated in some way. Did you find his phone?"
"Nada." Tony shook his head.
"Then maybe his Aunt knows something."
"Nope, Judy Quinn was a dead end," Tony explained, "She and Eric hadn't spoken in over a year."
No wonder Tony was looking so dejected. No one seemed to know anything about Eric and his elusive dealings. Misha said, "Have you talked to any of Eric's college friends?"
"No. Why?"
"He went to Allerton East. The Arlingtons are the college's main donors. They even have their own building there."
"You think Katherine and Eric met there?" Tony asked.
"Anything's possible," Misha said. "I was checking out his resume before you got here." She handed her laptop to Tony so he could see the document for himself. "Before the Wildes he hadn't done anything personal assistant-ish. In fact his degree is in History. I assume he got the job with Katherine through connections earned in the university."
"… Or maybe he blackmailed her for that too and someone he went to college with knows something," Tony added. He stared at the floor between his feet thoughtfully then nodded. "Let me see what I can do."
"While you're tracking Eric's finances, background or whatever," Misha said. "I'll talk to the younger Wildes to see if any of them know anything about the blackmail or have seen their parents talking to any strange men. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"Okay, Sherlock." Tony grinned. "Whatever you say."
Misha stuck her tongue out at him.
Long after Tony left, Misha was still scratching her head over how Katherine and Co. had managed to freeze the investigation. It seemed Mrs. Wilde was as invincible as she claimed. Misha began to doubt their ability to break this case. Something told her that they'd need a lot more than Lauren Wilde to move this case.
With Misha's notoriety as an investigative journalist and her less than cordial relationship with
Katherine, it would be hard to get any of the family to talk. And Tony, with his badge, didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell. What they needed was someone who could question the Wildes without raising suspicion.
And she knew just the man.
CHAPTER 15
Misha levitated between nervousness and anticipation as she waited for Danny to come home. The nervousness was because she was about to blow her cover, and the anticipation because she hadn't seen him the whole day. After having him constantly popping in to check on her at the hospital and sometimes spending the whole day at her bedside, she'd thought that she'd enjoy the Danny-free day. But she had to admit, she had missed him.
She was on the phone with Aiko when he walked in a few minutes past six. Predictably, her pulse lurched in instant excitement and her lips widened into a welcoming grin, even as she said to Aiko, "Femi can't be serious. She knows they don't allow food on the plane."
Danny met Misha's grin with a smile of his own. That smile. It was enough to make her chest tighten and her insides churn in unrestrained lust. Whatever Aiko was saying faded into the distance as Misha watched him cross the room toward her.
Hi, he mimed as he bent, flooding her senses with the sexy scent of his aquatic cologne before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Despite herself, Misha found herself cupping the back of his neck to keep him there for just a second longer. He turned his head to meet her gaze, and the smile that was in his eyes immediately faded and was replaced by obvious desire
He was close; so close it would only take a small lift or a dip and they would be kissing. Misha nervously licked her bottom lip. Danny followed the action with his eyes, sending the nerves on her lips into a tizzy. Kiss me.
"Misha, are you listening to me?" Aiko yelled into her ear, yanking her out of her lust induced haze. Misha immediately dropped her hand from Danny's neck. What the hell was wrong with her?
"I'm listening," she practically gasped as she pulled back a little from Danny. He eyed her for a moment then straightened to his full height. Trying to avoid following him with her eyes as he moved from her side to the recliner, she sucked in a deep breath to calm her trembling nerves. To Aiko, she said, "You were saying?"
