Blood Silence - Thriller (McRyan Mystery Series)

by Roger Stelljes

  “I presume so,” Mac replied. “If Weatherly and Kane were executed, they were killed by a pro. The pro is probably long gone by now.”

  “How does he investigate the case, then?”

  “The harder way, he’s trying to figure out why they were killed and who wanted them dead. So he is looking into Soutex Solutions to see who they are and what Shane might have been doing for them. It’s the only option he has at this point.”

  “I see.”

  Mac could almost see the wheels turning in the Judge’s brain. “I did, of course, tell Coolidge I’d be telling you what I’d learned.”

  “What else did you tell him?”

  “I suggested that you might be willing to discreetly allocate some federal resources if he asked, through me of course. We couldn’t have Coolidge go direct.”

  “Good boy,” the Judge replied approvingly.

  “So if he calls to ask, Judge, I’ll let you know.”

  “And you’ll check in with him soon?”

  “I told him I’d check back with him when I got back to town.”

  The Judge nodded and stood up and extended his hand. “Mac, that is all I could have asked for and more. Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry about your loss, Judge. I’m glad you asked for my help.”

  “Thank you, Michael.” Then the Judge shifted gears back to political mode. “Tonight will be fun, I think. It’ll be good to be back in Minnesota. We’ll see a lot of friendly faces.”

  “At least you will, Judge. Me?” Mac shook his head. “Other than Sally, probably not my type of crowd—not many people I’ll know, or to be honest, really care to know.”

  “You never can tell,” the Judge said lightly—and then with a mischievous tone, “You might be surprised.”

  • • •

  Mac adjusted his black bow tie in the mirror, making sure it was evenly tied and level. One of his first purchases once he arrived in Washington, after the brownstone, was a tuxedo. Sally said he’d need one for events if he intended to escort her. “Of course, if you don’t want to, I’m sure I could find someone else.” That was not going to happen, so a tux it was, and while he’d never admit it to Sally, he kind of liked wearing it.

  “Do you need any help with your tie?” Sally asked from the bathroom.

  “No, I think I have it this time,” Mac answered, lightly adjusting the bow tie, leveling it out one more time, assessing how he looked in the tuxedo perfectly sized to his wiry, athletic six-foot-one body. He looked good.

  “What do you think?” Sally asked from behind him.

  He turned to look. “Wow! Just … wow!”

  “Yeah?” Sally blushed, twirling around for him.

  “You look … amazing,” Mac answered. She was wearing a long dark-plum dress hugging tightly to her shapely body, with a long slit that revealed her slender, toned left leg. The neckline plunged just low enough to tastefully display her breasts. “Are you trying to impress someone tonight?” She always looked good at these kinds of events, but tonight she’d taken it to a whole new level with a dose of serious glamour.

  Sally smiled, walked up, and pecked him lightly on the lips, “Just you, babe. Just you.”

  “Mission accomplished, then. You look like you’re going to walk the red carpet at the Oscars.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I kind of thought so too,” Sally answered playfully, walking over to her shoulder bag and pulling out some papers. “I have another reason for going the extra mile tonight.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” Mac asked warily, noticing the playful yet warning tone in her voice.

  “Take a look at the guest list. There is someone coming that you should know about.”

  Mac took the list from her and started scanning down it, and then he saw it. “Seriously?”

  Twenty minutes later, Mac was quiet as he and Sally rode the elevator down.

  Meredith.

  It all came flooding back.

  Mac met Meredith Hilary at a hockey party his junior year at the University of Minnesota. She was hauntingly attractive, with dark green eyes, a bright smile, and long legs to match her long, black, wavy hair. And she was smart—studying to go to law school, which Mac had been giving thought to as well, rather than going into the family business, the St. Paul Police Department. He had a new girlfriend at the time, but Meredith was unattached, and once she met him, she pursued him. Mac didn’t really fight it—he let her catch him.

  He was in love and thought she was too.

  They married in a lavish wedding ceremony after their second year of law school. Life seemed set. Mac had a six-figure job lined up post-law school, which meshed well with her similar job offer from the Williams, Charles & Boylan firm.

  Meredith was happy, their life on a trajectory of success, much like the life of her parents—her father, a retired General Mills executive and her mother, a renowned vascular surgeon. They’d provided Meredith a privileged life, and she wanted the same for her and Mac, and they were on their way.

  Then tragedy struck.

  Two weeks before he was to start his job as an attorney, Mac’s two cousins, his two best friends, the co-best men at his wedding, St. Paul uniform cops, were murdered in the line of duty. Carrying their caskets to the cemetery, Mac, the only McRyan not in uniform, felt the calling of the family business.

  After the funeral, and without first discussing it with Meredith, he went to Charlie Flanagan, the chief of police and family friend, and joined the St. Paul Police Department. The legal career would have to wait.

  Meredith was not on board with the abrupt course change.

  She wanted the professional success and the status that would come with it—the wealth, the big house, the fancy cars, the beautiful children who went to expensive private schools and colleges. She wanted the good life, and she wanted the trophy husband to go with it. She didn’t set out to marry a cop.

  It took a few years. She hung in there for a while, hoping he’d come around, but Mac not only didn’t give it up, he worked his ass off to make detective in just a few years. He was all in on being a cop.

  Mac was successful, but it wasn’t the kind of success Meredith had expected or, in the end, wanted.

  Eventually, she started drifting away. At first it was working late at night. Then she was taking long work trips out of town. After awhile, she wouldn’t answer her phone when he called. At home, their interactions were perfunctory in nature, and their sex life had come to a slow but sure halt.

  All the telltale signs were there.

  Mac hired an old family friend, John Biggs, who’d retired as a police detective and become a private investigator. Biggs tailed Meredith for a few weeks and caught her having an affair with J. Frederick Sterling, the most powerful lawyer in her firm of high-powered lawyers. He was older, in his mid-forties, but he was handsome and rich, and he fulfilled her image of what she wanted and where she wanted to go. Mac suspected she pursued Sterling in the way she’d pursued him. If Meredith wanted something, she generally got it.

  Once Mac saw the pictures and video of the affair, there was no doubt what the end result would be. He was done, but it would end on his terms. Mac used the investigative information to put the screws to Meredith in their divorce.

  At the time of the affair, Sterling was also married and for the second time. With his second wife, there was a prenuptial agreement that included an infidelity clause that provided that if he was caught cheating, it would cost him five million dollars.

  Mac played hardball.

  He told Meredith he would use the pictures. He showed her an envelope addressed to Sterling’s wife that contained copies of the photos. The only way he wouldn’t mail it was if she agreed to his terms, which were that he got everything—the house, their investments, and the minority ownership interest in the Grand Brew Coffee Shop investment, the investment that eventually made Mac rich. The deal was, he got everything, or he’d use the pictures to kill he
r career and screw Sterling.

  The last time he’d seen Meredith was four years ago in the kitchen of their home when he gave her twenty-four hours to accept his terms and then told her to get out of the house.

  Sally noticed the vacant stare on his face as the elevator doors opened. “Are you okay?”

  Mac shook himself from the memories of four years ago. “Fine.”

  “Liar,” Sally answered as she hooked her arm through Mac’s. “Maybe you won’t even see her or talk to her. She’ll probably avoid you every bit as much as you’ll avoid her.”

  “One can only hope.”

  The divorce from Meredith was a bitter memory that Sally had helped him put deep into his mental storage. Yet, no matter how much he knew that things had worked out for the better—that he was with Sally, someone who loved him unconditionally, the divorce was nevertheless something that still angered him. He viewed it as a personal failure. He’d failed at few things in his life, but to have failed at his marriage, regardless of the reasons for the failure, was something that burned him to this day. But it had also motivated him, and while he’d never said a word to anyone else, every day he wanted to prove Meredith wrong. He wanted to prove that doing what he did as a cop was worthwhile, that police work was a good career, and that you could have success. His last couple years proved it. She couldn’t possibly have missed all the press stories about the election investigation or the hunt for the Reaper last summer.

  They walked into the reception hall, and one part of Meredith got to him right away.

  “Mac! Oh, Mac!” Ann Hilary yelled happily, coming up to give him an enthusiastic hug. “Oh, it is so good to see you!”

  The odd juxtaposition was that as bitter as Mac’s divorce was from Meredith, her parents still loved him, especially her mother. Meredith was their daughter, but that didn’t mean they agreed with all of her life choices. One night, not long after the divorce was final, Mac ran into Edmund Hilary at a restaurant, and Meredith’s father flat out told him, “Mac, Ann and I are really sorry about what happened. We think Meredith made a huge mistake she’ll end up regretting.”

  Mac was happy to see the two of them.

  “Mac, you look great,” Ann said, cupping his face in her hands, smiling up at him.

  “Thank you, Ann. It’s good to see you.”

  Ann Hilary looked to her right and took a look at Sally and smiled. “Oh, Mac, is this ravishing woman your fiancée?”

  “Yes, she is. Ann Hilary, please meet White House Deputy Director of Communications, and my fiancée, Sally Kennedy.”

  “Oh, congratulations, Sally,” Ann said excitedly, shaking Sally’s hand enthusiastically and then said under her breath, “We just love Mac. You are a very lucky lady.”

  “Yes, I am,” Sally answered, smiling, although Mac could tell she was a little off balance, wondering if his former in-laws were for real.

  “Mac, boy, how are you?” Edmund Hilary greeted him, walking up with two glasses of red wine, handing one to Ann and then extending his hand. “Good to see you, son.” He looked to his right. “You remember Ann’s brother, Teddy Archer?”

  “How could I forget? How are you, Teddy?”

  “I’m well, Mac, thanks for asking. You’re looking sharp.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Mac. I was talking to this lovely lady right here.”

  “Teddy, Teddy, Teddy,” Ann scolded. “This is Mac’s fiancée, Sally Kennedy. Sally, this is my brother, Teddy.”

  “Good grief, son, everything’s coming up blackjack for you.” Teddy guffawed in Mac’s direction. “Like that Grand Brew deal. I’m a pro at the investment game, and I’ve never gotten a return like that.”

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “Lucky, my ass.”

  The five of them engaged in warm conversation for a few minutes before the Hilarys and Teddy moved off to work the crowd.

  “Okay, that was just a little awkward!” Sally said, chuckling, as she and Mac made their way to one of the bars for a drink. “Was that for show or …”

  “No, that was the real deal,” Mac answered. “Her parents are great. Ann is a saint, an absolute saint. They must have apologized a half dozen times after the divorce went down. Meredith got their ambition, drive, and brains, but I don’t think she ever got their heart.”

  “And that Teddy, man, he is a piece of work.”

  Mac nodded. “Don’t let the good-old-boy act fool you. That guy is a shark. He was an investment banker, had his own firm here in town for years, and made a big old pile of money before he sold out.”

  “He seemed to like you.”

  Mac shrugged. “Yeah, but that was a little bit of a show too. Teddy never had kids, although, by last count, he has three ex-wives.”

  “How come?”

  “He was a raging workaholic. Always chasing money and women, and he just wasn’t much on a regular home type of life. So Meredith was like his surrogate child. That Grand Brew compliment”—Mac shook his head—“that was a veiled shot. Half of that could have been hers, and I’m sure that pisses him off.”

  “She hasn’t exactly been living in squalor,” Sally retorted. “Sterling is one of the richest lawyers in town.”

  “And Teddy helped him get richer.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Mac replied. “One of the ways Meredith got into Sterling’s firm to begin with was Teddy. Sterling did legal work for Teddy for a long time, so when Meredith was looking to get hired, Teddy made some calls, and Sterling interviewed her, and the rest, shall we say, is history.”

  “So you could say Teddy was responsible for those two meeting.”

  “Yup,” Mac answered. “Unlike her parents, Teddy wasn’t disappointed when she took up with him. I’m pretty sure he thought Sterling was an upgrade for her.”

  “And with his goddaughter in the firm, Teddy had continued access to Sterling.”

  “And more importantly, Sterling’s clients, all of whom had money,” Mac answered. “Teddy ran an investment fund, so he made all his money with other people’s money.”

  Sally’s mouth was agape. “Is he really that craven?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Mac answered, wanting to talk about something else. “I think he cares for Meredith. However, if in helping her he could figure out an angle to help himself too? He wouldn’t analyze the right or wrong of that. In that sense, he and Meredith are very much alike.”

  For the next hour, Sally worked the room with Mac in tow, saying hello to the DFL party dignitaries and other political—and in a few cases, personal—friends of the president. Mac did his duty, making small talk with people, answering hockey questions for the people who remembered him from his playing days, but he couldn’t help but make a few extra trips to the bar to avoid the politicos, most of whom he really couldn’t care less about.

  Eventually, everyone took their seats at their tables in a ballroom filled with over three thousand people, and the president of the United States entered the festivities to “Hail to the Chief.” Dinner was served, and speeches were given. As much as he didn’t want to, Mac had to admit, a fun, relaxed, and joyful atmosphere swept over the room—odd for politics, where people often were oh so careful with what they said, fearful of offending, of losing status, or not getting ahead. Tonight, jokes were told, and the evening turned into something of a freewheeling roast. President James Thomson had the ability to put people at ease and be real. He was happy to be home. The president was savoring the moment of the one-year anniversary of his election and was clearly in the mood to have a good time. It infected the entire room, and Mac was finally able to relax and enjoy the night.

  After the formal program finished, a band began playing, and the dance floor was cleared, and the party got going. “Looks like you could use another drink,” Sally suggested and then leaned in. “Would you get me another white wine?” she added, kissing the bottom of his earlobe. “You know how much I love the Chardonna
y—a couple more, and you could get lucky.”

  “Right away, then,” Mac replied with a smile and pushed himself up from the table and made his way to the bar. “I need a Seagram’s Seven and a glass of Chardonnay, please.”

  “Hello, Mac.”

  He knew the soft, sultry voice.

  It had been four years, but it was unmistakable.

  He shook his head lightly, sighed, and turned around to see Meredith. She looked stunning in an elegant black gown hanging tightly to her long, slender figure.

  “Meredith.”

  She noted the clipped response but took one hesitant step closer. “You look good, Mac.”

  “I feel good.”

  She nodded but took another step. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Four years.”

  “You look good, really good. You do,” she said, reaching for his arm awkwardly, not sure she should do more.

  “So do you, Meredith,” Mac answered stiffly, noticing the number of men leering at his ex-wife. There were probably a few wives giving their husbands a dirty look or a vicious kick under the table.

  “I understand congratulations are in order,” Meredith said lightly, looking back to Sally, who was engrossed in conversation with the Judge and his wife at the table near the front. “Sally looks very happy. She really does.”

  “Yeah, she does,” Mac answered uneasily, not sure what to make of his ex-wife’s warm approach.

  “So do you.” Meredith was genuinely being gracious. Mac dropped his guard and relaxed, but only a little, looking for the joker in the deck. “I hear congratulations are in order for you as well. You made partner at the firm—that’s great. I know how important that was to you.”

  “Yeah, I did,” she answered distractedly, looking back to her left. Mac shifted his eyes in that direction as well and saw her husband, J. Frederick Sterling, talking to a shorter, attractive woman Mac gauged to be in her early forties. The conversation looked comfortable between the two. Meredith’s eyes narrowed, and her lips puckered.

  That’s interesting, Mac thought, noticing the darkening of her expression. “So, how are things with you and your husband?” It was a question and a dig.