Harrison's Heart (Heroes for Hire Book 7)

by Dale Mayer

  He looked around the large bedroom. “This is a huge room.”

  She nodded. “My brother never wanted any other but this one.”

  Harrison figured he could come up with an answer to that. He looked around. A very masculine dark mahogany bed, matching dresser, night tables and a huge entertainment center. Obviously old money in this room. He opened the closet doors. A lot of clothes hung here. But also a lot of empty hangers.

  Zoe said, “He always left clothes behind. Mom said he was here sometimes for eight or nine days. Alex wanted one of the properties signed over to him.” She shrugged. “My father was into control. I’m not sure Alex got very far. If he had, he wouldn’t stay here as often as he did.”

  She said it in such a casual way that Harrison knew she didn’t understand the impact of somebody handing over a house. So much of the world wished they could buy a house, and yet, here her brother was, hoping to be given one.

  “Wow, you really do live in a different world.” He went through the closet, looking for secrets. He figured somebody like her brother would have them. On the top shelf was an old childish-looking box. Like a keepsake box a mother would save.

  He brought it down and took a closer look at school medals, report cards, and other childhood memories—like a couple favorite stones—things that meant nothing to anybody but Alex.

  She glanced at it and nodded. “I remember seeing this stuff a while ago.”

  “Did he want to join the military?”

  “Hell, no. He laughed when I went in. He said I was a fool.”

  “Of course.” He walked over to the dresser, quickly scouted it. “There are a few sets of underclothes and a couple sweaters. But it’s mostly empty.”

  He turned his attention to the night tables. One was completely empty; the other held a box of condoms. He glanced at Zoe. “Was he allowed to have girlfriends here?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not until we were married, according to my father’s rules. If we had sexual relationships, they weren’t allowed in the home.”

  Harrison held up the box of condoms.

  She looked at it and shrugged. “He’s been sexually active since he was like fourteen.”

  Harrison replaced the condom box, looked through a popular novel sitting partially dog-eared on the nineteenth chapter. On a hunch, he lifted the night table and moved it off to the side. But nothing was behind it or under it. He glanced at the bed. It was big, ornate, dark and imposing. Nothing under the bed. He lifted the pillows, looked underneath. Nothing. The bed was on wheels. He pulled it out and checked behind the headboard and again found nothing. When he put the bed back in place, he turned around for other areas to search and found Zoe standing in the middle of the room, a curious look on her face.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Anything. Something that says who he is, what he did when here and what he might do when not here. I’m looking to understand the man inside the room.”

  Chapter 11

  She nodded. “If you find anything, let me know. I always thought he was hollow inside.” She looked around, then hearing a mechanical sound on the other side, walked to the bathroom. She opened the door. The smell hit her first. She turned on the lights.

  And let out a strangled cry.

  Harrison raced up behind her.

  A man in a military uniform was crumpled on the floor. A garrote had been used to take his life. It cut into the surface of the skin. His face was purple, bulging.

  Harrison gently led Zoe out and away. “Stay back.” He glanced again at her, making sure she was okay.

  She had both hands over her mouth, staring at him wide-eyed. “I know who it is.”

  He glanced at the dead man and then at her. “One of the guys who raped your friend?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but he never paid for his crimes as his father’s high up in the military.” As soon as she understood what she had said, she gasped. “Oh, my God! You think he and his father were the military pair my mom saw? That they shot my father and beat up my mother?” She dropped her gaze to the body on the floor. “Then what the hell is he doing up here?”

  “Are there other entrances to this bedroom besides the main door in the hallway?”

  She nodded. “Several. He has a fire escape outside his window. He came and went often in the night.”

  Harrison nodded and glanced at the dead man. “From the looks of this guy, he was probably killed very soon after your mother was beaten.”

  “By my brother?”

  “If he killed this guy in self-defense, he didn’t need to run.”

  Then they heard the police sirens. Harrison grabbed her arm. “Let’s go speak with the police. We now have two crime scenes. It’ll be a very long night.”

  They stood on the front step as three police cruisers and an ambulance pulled up. She wrapped her arms around her chest.

  One of the cops walked up. “Are you Zoe Branson?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I am.”

  He said, “I’m here to arrest you for the murder of your father.”

  *

  Zoe swayed in place.

  Harrison stepped up beside her and put an arm around her shoulders, while he pulled out his phone and called Richard. “Any chance Trish is awake? The senator must be dead because the police are here to arrest Zoe for the murder of her father.”

  Richard snapped, “What a travesty if they do that. I’ll go check. I hadn’t heard he had passed. Had anybody even told her that her father died?”

  Harrison focused on the detective. “I don’t think the police give a shit about the niceties of telling a daughter that her father has died. The detectives’ only concern is getting credit for closing the senator’s case.”

  The detective looked embarrassed. He turned to Zoe and asked, “You weren’t notified?”

  She shook her head, her hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes.

  Another detective walked up, stood nearby.

  She drew her hand away to speak. “But I don’t think that matters to you guys, does it? I mean, I should be dancing with joy, because, as far as you’re concerned, I’m the one who pulled the trigger.”

  Harrison could see the pain in her gaze. He turned her into his chest, where she buried her face against his shirt. He could feel the shudders rippling through her shoulders. “You can expect to hear about this from your superiors. I’ll make sure a complaint is put through on this one.”

  The second detective said, “We’re just messengers.”

  “So where the hell is the messenger who came to tell her that her father passed away?”

  “We thought the hospital would’ve contacted her.”

  “As you can tell, nobody did,” Harrison snapped. “We’ve been visiting with her mother and her doctor. Neither of them know yet either. So, when you do talk to her, make sure Richard, her doctor, is there. We don’t want her having a relapse from your continued lack of tact.” Harrison hugged Zoe tighter. “And, of course, Zoe will go with you willingly. However, we found two crime scenes on this property—three dead bodies in all, including the dead man upstairs in her brother’s bedroom. That dead guy was likely the one who beat up her mother the night her father was shot. And that dead guy’s father is the one who we think shot Zoe’s father.”

  The detective frowned. “And what proof do you have? And what the hell do you mean that you’ve got dead bodies all over this property?”

  Harrison quietly and calmly told him about Trish’s statement. “We were here to collect more clothes for Zoe. We found a dead couple in the cottage on the grounds and also her father’s .22 handgun in a safe in his home office. In her brother’s bathroom upstairs is the third dead body.”

  The detective shook his head. “It doesn’t change anything. You can explain everything at the police station.”

  Harrison watched as she drew away from him and stuck out her chin. “I’m not resisting arrest,” she snapped, “but how stupid you’ll look when you find out how very
wrong you are.”

  “We were given a tip this morning about your actions. Somebody said they had proof.”

  “But, of course,” Harrison said, “you wouldn’t want real evidence from a real eyewitness, now would you?”

  The detective frowned at him. “We haven’t talked to her mother. So we’re only going on your say-so.”

  “Yet you’re here based on an anonymous tip, correct? Have you seen the alleged proof your anonymous tipster supposedly has? You do realize it was probably the killer himself who called in the tip, right?” Harrison asked drily.

  The detectives exchanged glances. One of them asked, “Where are the bodies?”

  Harrison pointed around the house. “There is a cottage at the back of the yard. Two are dead inside, a man and a woman. They were long-time employees of the senator. And upstairs is a young male dressed in a military uniform who, as far as we can tell, was the one who beat up the senator’s wife. Mrs. Branson said his father was with him at the time. We don’t know which one or if both participated in the senator’s death.”

  “Harrison, are you there?”

  Harrison held the phone so the cops could hear. “I’m here with the police officers.”

  “I’m walking into Trish’s room now. Trish? How are you doing, sweetie?”

  Harrison noticed the softening of Richard’s voice. They might be friends now, but it was a friendship that ran deep and strong between them.

  Trish’s voice was faint, but she could be heard through the phone. “I’m feeling a little bit better.”

  “I’m happy to hear that, but, Trish, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that your husband died from his injuries.”

  There was no response from her. No sound at all.

  “But now we have a rather pressing situation,” Richard told Trish. “The police are at your house to arrest your daughter for murdering the senator.”

  Trish’s gasp was audible to all. “Oh, my God, no! I told her who came to the house that night.”

  “The police aren’t listening to her or anything she has to say. Can you talk to Harrison right now? He’s with them and has it on speaker phone.”

  Richard must have handed the phone to Trish, who, in a shaky voice, identified herself. “Who am I speaking with?”

  “Detective McKay and Anderson here,” said one of the detectives. “We have a warrant for your daughter’s arrest for the murder of the senator.”

  “Well, you’re wrong.” Her voice was fatigued, but she repeated the story she had already told Zoe. “As for the young man who attacked me, he should have been covered in my blood when he left. I know I was lying in a huge pool of it. So some of my blood must be on the uniform he wore that day. I hadn’t seen the two men before, but my husband acted quite familiar with them. They were arguing.”

  “But you did not see who shot your husband?”

  “That is correct. However, the only two people in the house, or in the yard, at the time were that man and his son.”

  “And your son?”

  “I don’t know where he was.”

  “But you were inside the house, not outside, and, therefore, you could not see if your daughter happened to be there.”

  Harrison felt Zoe stiffen in his arms. He wrapped her tighter in his embrace and held her still. He wondered if the police had a warrant for Alex too.

  Trish’s voice strengthened as she said, “I’m not a fool, gentleman. The double doors to the entranceway were wide open. Both men were standing there. There’s no way anybody else shot my husband.”

  “But you can’t prove that, can you?”

  And Harrison knew exactly what would happen next. He whispered to Zoe. “You need to go with them. Don’t resist arrest. We’ll have a lawyer to you in no time.”

  She nodded, stepped away, turned to the men and said, “That’s fine. I’ll go with you. But I want your names and badge numbers. Because, when I take down that asshole from the military, I’ll make sure I mention every one of you guys too.”

  The two men’s gazes hardened. They nodded and said, “That’s your right. But we have a warrant, and we’ll carry it out.”

  Harrison could hear Trish calling out, “No, you can’t arrest her.”

  Harrison held up one finger to the two detectives, wiggling his phone at them. “She can identify whether our dead military guy attacked her or not.” He put the phone back to his ear and said, “Trish, I’ll look after her. You stay calm and don’t let this slow your healing. You’re no good to your daughter if you collapse.”

  Richard’s voice could be heard. “What do you need, Harrison?”

  “First, a lawyer. The police are taking Zoe to the station right now. Second, I need Trish’s help.”

  Harrison explained to Richard about the bodies on the property. “To add to both staff members being dead there is a dead man dressed in a soldier’s uniform in the son’s bathroom. I’ll send you an image of his face. Have Trish look at it and see if she can identify him as the man who beat her up. Call me right back.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Harrison hung up. Moments later he sent pictures of the dead man to Richard, and Harrison’s phone rang almost immediately. “Trish says it’s him.”

  He looked at the detective in front of him and showed him the dead guy’s photo on his phone. “So now go collect this asshole’s father for his role in this too.”

  The detective looked at the ground. “I hear you. Things really stink in our department right now. And they’re getting ugly fast.”

  “So pick a side, because when I take the lid off, a lot of shit will be flung in numerous directions.”

  The detective looked at him, glanced at his partner and said, “Sometimes we don’t have any choice.”

  “You always have a choice.” Harrison shook his head. “Every day every man has to make a choice where he stands. It’s high time for you to make yours.”

  Chapter 12

  She sat, numb, in the police station. She’d been led to a table in a small room instead of being booked right away. That was a surprise. It was also a bit of a relief but not enough. She didn’t want to go through this process, but likely nothing would save her from it. Nobody had asked her any further questions. Nobody seemed to give a damn now that they’d picked her up. While she could understand that, she still didn’t like it. She was also surprised Harrison hadn’t come with her. It stung a little.

  The door opened. A bald-headed stranger walked up to her and said, “Zoe, my name is Lars.”

  She instantly felt no fear, even though he was huge and wore only one silver earring and that was in his left ear. She had never met anyone with that name before. She stood, smiled and shook his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you.”

  He gave her a gentle smile. “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t,” he said. “I’m a lawyer.”

  In an instant, her eyes filled with tears. She nodded, brushed away the wetness and said, “I didn’t do this.”

  He patted her shoulder gently. “They can hold you for forty-eight hours, but that’s it. Then they’ll have to charge you. I’m not sure they will, given what Harrison has to say.”

  She brightened. “You spoke to him?”

  He nodded. “Yes. We’ll get to the bottom of this in no time.” He pulled up a chair beside her. “I’m glad you had someone helping you in this situation.”

  She nodded. “I am too. I wasn’t sure my father’s associates would handle it.”

  “Better not to involve them to avoid any conflict of interest. Plus they most likely don’t handle criminal law.”

  She studied the lawyer for a long moment. In a low voice she asked, “Should I be asking about your fees? I don’t have a whole lot of money.”

  He chuckled. “And you, a senator’s daughter.”

  “The senator had the money. He didn’t share. At least not with his daughter. His son, that was different.”

  “I do understand. But my fee is taken care. Now no more talk abo
ut that. I need to hear everything from you. Why don’t you tell me from start to finish.”

  She winced. “When you say from the start, what do you mean?”

  He studied her intently for a long moment. “Right now, from the day your father was shot.”

  She nodded and settled back in her chair. The telling took a little bit as she got in as much of the details as she could remember. Thankfully he recorded what she said. When she finished, she realized not only was he taping the conversation but he was taking notes.

  “So you don’t know who this man in the bathroom is?”

  “His face was pretty distorted, but I think it was Paul Canley, the leader of the group who raped Tamara, my friend, and the one whose father is a general.”

  “Okay, now I need the rest of the story.”

  “Crap.” She looked around for a glass of water. Finding nothing, she swallowed several times and said, “Here goes.”

  And she launched into telling him about Tamara—how she’d been gang-raped in the showers and how Paul Canley had been the leader of the pack. “There were five, but two of them, Tamara said, Canley had forced to cooperate. It’s like he was making sure all of them were guilty. Therefore, none of them would squeal.” She shook her head. “Tamara was in a bad state. She didn’t want to go to the medics. She didn’t want to go to the police. I insisted she go to the hospital and be checked out. At the time, they did a rape kit. No semen was found, as far as I understand. Tamara did say they were all talking about using double condoms to make sure no evidence was left behind. Plus …” She took a deep breath. “They cleaned her off afterward. She lay there, unconscious at that point.”

  “When did you find her?”

  “I found her soon afterward. She was blue with cold, sobbing on the floor.”

  “What is the military saying about the case?”

  “They say she liked rough sex, that she was well-known for having multiple sex partners, and so basically they tried her within their own minds and decided she’d asked for it,” she snapped, then leaned back. “I’m sorry. There was more to it than that obviously. They said there was no proof these men were involved. As far as I’m concerned, they just brushed it all under the carpet and let the men go.”