Watch Your Back

by Karen Rose

  ‘Where’s the clerk?’

  ‘Dead. I made him open the safe and the register first, so it’ll look like a robbery. Surveillance system was closed loop, nothing uploaded to a server. I took the recorder with me.’

  ‘What about Henderson’s car?’

  ‘The clerk admitted that Henderson arrived in a white Camry, so I sliced its tires on my way to Henderson’s room. When I found it empty, I checked the security footage of the parking lot. Henderson stole a rusted old Dodge. Had it hotwired in five seconds flat.’

  ‘Yay,’ Robinette deadpanned sarcastically. ‘Henderson still has some skills.’

  ‘I found the Dodge abandoned a mile away. Lots of cops surrounding it. I got nervous that they’d ID’d Henderson, but they were there because a delivery guy reported his van stolen. The owner was holding the magnetic sign he kept on the door, so Henderson’s out there in an unmarked white van. I’ll keep looking. I do have good news, though – a lead on Mazzetti.’

  ‘Do tell,’ Robinette bit out.

  ‘Right before I dealt with your BPD source, he ID’d the two men who were with Mazzetti when Henderson did the drive-by. They were Clay Maynard and Alec Vaughn.’

  ‘Maynard?’ Frowning, Robinette tapped a few keys on his laptop, then stared at a still taken on the courthouse steps the day Mazzetti was shot by the psycho teenager. In the photo, Mazzetti lay bleeding while a shirtless man crouched over her. Clay Maynard. ‘He was there when she got shot back in December, too. Sonofabitch saved her life.’

  ‘Well, he was her guardian angel last night, too,’ Westmoreland said. ‘Or her bodyguard.’

  ‘Possible. He runs a security service. That’s why he was at the courthouse that day. One of his employees had been killed the night before while guarding ASA Montgomery’s son, who’d been kidnapped. Maynard was there to inform her. So, Stevie hired a bodyguard. Smart.’

  ‘She got her money’s worth. Maynard took two of Henderson’s bullets in the back for her last night. Saved her life again, and the little girl’s, too. I’ve checked all the other friends you named and she doesn’t appear to be with any of them. Chances are good that Maynard’s got her holed up somewhere.’

  ‘What about the other man? Vaughn?’

  ‘He’s just a kid. Maynard’s the main player. I’ll go to his home and check it out.’

  ‘You won’t find Maynard’s address easily,’ Robinette said. ‘He bought his house through a corporation, hidden in a tangle of other corporations. The guy’s no beginner.’ He looked up Maynard’s home address in his old-fashioned pen-and-paper address book. There wasn’t a hacker in the world who could break into his contact list. ‘Write this down,’ he said, and read out Maynard’s address.

  ‘How did you get it?’ Westmoreland asked.

  ‘I have my ways.’ Actually, he’d waited outside Maynard’s office one night and followed him home. Guy nearly lost him three times. ‘Be careful. He’ll have top-notch security and he’s well-armed. Take backup.’ Westmoreland maintained a security team who guarded the plant round the clock. Allowing Fletcher’s special formulas to leave the plant in the wrong hands could get them arrested. Or worse.

  ‘I can’t right now. I’ve got my team looking for Henderson, who’s running around loose right now in a pissed off mood. That worries me.’

  The censure in Wes’s voice scraped at Robinette’s patience. ‘You think I made a mistake.’

  ‘Well . . . it might have been a hasty decision. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know what went down, but according to what little I could find about Maynard, he’s a pro. His clientele are some of the richest businessmen on the East Coast – and they trust Maynard with their security. Knowing he’s Mazzetti’s bodyguard changes the game. If Henderson didn’t have that intel . . .’

  ‘You’re saying I judged Henderson too harshly.’

  Another hesitation. ‘Hell, Robbie. I don’t know that I would have expected anyone to leap in front of a stream of bullets. But now we have to deal with a pissed off Henderson. My team is watching airports and hospitals. From the bandage I found in that hotel room, Henderson’s still bleeding pretty bad.’

  ‘Fine. Just keep me informed.’

  ‘Robbie, wait. What about Fletcher?’

  ‘I’ll take care of Fletcher.’

  Westmoreland sighed. ‘Hell. Just when things were gettin’ good. We could’ve been rich.’

  It was true. Without Fletcher, they’d have no product. Without product, no business, and no money. ‘I didn’t say I would kill Fletch. I’ll just make sure this doesn’t happen again.’

  Westmoreland sighed again, this time in relief. ‘Good to know. I always liked Fletch. But just as a friend,’ he added quickly and Robinette found his lips twitching.

  ‘Keep me informed.’ Robinette hung up and immediately dialed the guard shack. ‘Is Dr Fletcher in the lab?’ It was Sunday, but Fletch often worked weekends.

  ‘No, Dr Fletcher hasn’t arrived yet. Should I take a message?’

  ‘Yes, please. Tell Dr Fletcher to report to my office as soon as possible.’

  Chapter Ten

  Baltimore, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 9.00 A.M.

  Henderson was pissed off. He fired me. He burned down my apartment. Now Robinette had ordered a hit. Does he think I’m gonna go to the cops? He thinks I’m that petty? That stupid?

  And to top it all off, Robinette had sent Westmoreland to do the job. That was just plain insulting. Westmoreland couldn’t shoot his way out of a church full of Quakers.

  I’d like to see him take a shot at Detective Stevie Mazzetti, Henderson thought with a sneer. Mazzetti. The woman’s very name tasted foul.

  Or perhaps that would be the odor of the dirty diapers in the back of the delivery van. Trust me to hijack a diaper delivery van. Goddamn, I wish I’d never heard of Stevie Mazzetti.

  Mazzetti, however, was at the bottom of the priority list at the moment. First was finding a place to hide. Second was finding medical attention. Food would also be good.

  I have to get outta town. Canada wouldn’t be bad. Australia would be better. I have friends that don’t work for Todd Robinette. I’ll start over somewhere new. For now, being any place other than Baltimore seemed smart. Cops hated cop-killers and hunted them down like dogs.

  That Henderson hadn’t been successful wouldn’t buy much compassion, especially since Mazzetti was such a media darling. Who’d apparently hired a fucking bodyguard.

  I should have Googled her before the restaurant hit. Should have gathered my own fucking intel. Because an Internet search the night before yielded dozens of Stevie Mazzetti news stories and photos, most about the day in December when she got shot. And with her on the courthouse steps? The man who stopped two bullets for her yesterday – a guy who provided bodyguards.

  Shit. If I’d had that little piece of information I’d have set up the hit a lot differently. To be fair, the guy hadn’t been at the restaurant. So that miss was on me. He’d been guarding the little girl. Mazzetti must’ve thought she could take care of herself.

  But Robinette had to have known about the bodyguard. And he didn’t tell me, that sonofabitch. And then had the nerve to send Westmoreland to . . .

  Wait. Henderson frowned. How did Westmoreland know where to find me?

  Fletcher. But Henderson had known the chemist for a long time. Had never been aware of a single lie, a single betrayal. Eyes narrowed, Henderson dialed Fletcher’s cell.

  ‘I told you not to call me anymore,’ Fletcher hissed. ‘You want to get me fired, too?’

  ‘Did you drive one of Robinette’s cars last night?’ Henderson asked.

  ‘What? Of course not. All those cars have tracking devices.’

  ‘Then did you tell Robinette where I was?’

  ‘No. I said I wouldn’t. I haven’t even seen him since yesterday. He had that . . . thing last night, that black tie event. With Lisa.’

  ‘Well, somehow he knew. I just escaped Westmoreland by the skin of my damn te
eth. And he didn’t come to bring me flowers.’

  A beat of silence. ‘He sicced Westmoreland on you? To kill you? Really?’

  ‘I’m driving a diaper delivery van, Fletch. I had to get creative to stay alive. Yes, really.’

  ‘Shit. That’s . . . Well, I didn’t tell. You can believe me or not.’

  ‘I do believe you, actually. You helped me last night when you didn’t have to. So here’s a tip – if Westmoreland knew I was there and you didn’t tell anyone, then either Robbie’s following you or he has a tracker on your personal vehicle. Which means he knows you helped me. I wouldn’t go into the office today if I were you.’

  Fletcher sucked in a breath. ‘Too late. I just signed in at the gate. Well, that explains why he wants me to come to his office, ASAP.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Fess up, play dumb, and pray. And if none of those work, I’ll tell him I have my lab books locked away somewhere safe. If he wants his product, he’ll keep me alive. Thanks, Henderson.’

  ‘Like I said, you helped me. Speaking of, do you have any idea where I can go for more bandages and some antibiotics? Someplace that won’t ask questions? Please, Fletch.’

  Fletcher hesitated. ‘Dammit. Yeah. There’s a clinic in Largo, on Church Road, about two miles from the cemetery. Ask for Sean. Tell him I sent you. He’ll fix you up.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me this last night?’

  ‘Because last night I didn’t know that Robinette had a tracker on my car. And you didn’t have to call and warn me. But this is it, Henderson. No more calls.’

  ‘No more, I promise. Thanks, Fletch. Be careful, okay?’

  ‘I’ll do my best. You, too.’

  Henderson hung up. Largo wasn’t too far away. Just have to stay alert a little longer.

  ‘Goddamn that Mazzetti,’ Henderson muttered. ‘If she’d just died like she was supposed to, none of this would be happening. I’d still have a cushy job with good insurance. Dental, even. That woman is not worth all the trouble she’s put me through. Robinette can kill her himself.’

  Robinette probably would. Mazzetti had killed Levi, Robinette’s only son. He really wanted that woman dead. She was worth something to him.

  ‘How much is she worth to you, Robbie?’ Henderson murmured. ‘A plane ticket to Australia? Releasing Westmoreland from his assignment? My freedom? Maybe even Fletcher’s twenty percent of the profits from the new formula?’

  Robinette would balk. He wouldn’t want to pay. And then what would I do? Kill her anyway? Auction her to the highest bidder? No. Because either way she’s dead and he gets what he wants. No, the threat would have to be big. Like telling Mazzetti all of Robinette’s secrets and setting the cop free. That would make me a fugitive, but I am now anyway.

  Henderson would rather be chased by the cops than by Robinette, because Robbie knew all of his employees’ secrets. He knew where they lived, where their families lived, and who they called friends. None of his employees – past or current – were truly safe if Robinette wanted them dead.

  Would I do that? Reveal all his secrets to Stevie Mazzetti?

  ‘Hell, yeah.’ Henderson laughed thinly. ‘I guess I am that petty after all.’

  It would mean kidnapping Mazzetti. Taking – and keeping – her alive. A dead Mazzetti held no barter value at all.

  If Westmoreland found Mazzetti first, there would be no way to escape a death sentence. Unless, of course, the executioner ceased to exist. The judge would have to go, too, before he assigned someone else. If Mazzetti was no longer a player, Westmoreland and Robinette would have to go.

  But could you? Really? Could you kill Robinette?

  Last night, the answer had been no. Now . . . Henderson wasn’t so sure. He’d kill you in a heartbeat. He’s already tried. So now the answer was yes. Probably.

  But not definitely. On every other job Henderson saw a target, not a face. Not a person. But with Robinette there was history. Until last night, all of it good. How could he do this?

  How could he do this to me?

  Maybe he’s sick. It was a hopeful thought. Or crazy. Maybe he has a brain tumor.

  Or maybe this was who Robinette had been all along. Maybe if I’d fucked up years ago, he would have tried to kill me then.

  Picture yourself pulling the trigger. Do it. But the only image that came to Henderson’s mind was a dark room, a dead body and a lot of blood. None of it mine. And looming over the scene was Robinette, calm and composed, saying it would be all right. That he’d take care of everything. That the body of the man that Henderson had murdered would not be found.

  That there would be no punishment. No prison. That my life would continue to be my own.

  If I have to kill him to survive, I will. But if I can avoid it . . . Mazzetti was the key to freedom. Barter the detective’s life for your own. And do it fast before the choice is taken from you. Get yourself patched up so you can get to work.

  Wight’s Landing, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 9.45 A.M.

  ‘I might have found Rossi,’ Clay said.

  The girlish chatter around Tanner’s kitchen table abruptly stilled. Stevie glanced up at Clay who stood with his back to the counter, frowning at his phone. He’d been largely silent through the meal, speaking when spoken to, but mostly he’d watched her.

  She’d avoided his gaze all the way through breakfast. Coward. I’m a coward.

  Tanner had disappeared after gulping down a waffle to lay a plywood path for her over the sand, yet still she heard the older man’s words circling around in her mind. Try not to hurt him.

  But Stevie knew this would end in one of them being hurt. Him or me. Probably both of us. I’ll try not to let it be him. I’ll try really hard.

  She kissed Cordelia’s forehead. ‘Why don’t you and Aunt Emma check on the puppies.’

  Cordelia looked from her to Clay. ‘I want to know what’s happening. Who is Rossi?’

  Stevie glanced at Clay. ‘The truth?’ she murmured and he nodded, saying nothing. ‘Rossi is a cop,’ she told her daughter. ‘A dirty cop who wanted to see me hurt. But JD caught him. He’s in jail now.’

  Cordelia looked down, then up again resolutely. ‘You mean he wanted to kill you, Mama.’

  A cold chill raced down Stevie’s spine. ‘He did. But he can’t now. He was shot.’

  ‘By who? By Uncle JD?’

  ‘That you don’t need to know,’ Stevie said.

  ‘But—’

  Clay cleared his throat and Cordelia’s gaze swung to his face. He gave her a stern look accompanied by a small shake of his head.

  Cordelia looked down again. ‘I’m not sorry I asked,’ she said stubbornly.

  Stevie’s lips curved. ‘I’d be disappointed if you were.’

  Cordelia’s chin came up, her eyes wide. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re your father’s daughter, but you’re also mine.’ She cupped Cordelia’s cheek, her touch gentle, but her tone fierce. ‘Always ask questions and keep asking until you’re satisfied that you have all the information you need. Unless I tell you otherwise. Sometimes you’re going to have to trust me.’

  Cordelia’s lips firmed. ‘Okay. Then I want to ask a different question.’

  Stevie smiled. ‘Okay.’

  ‘If Rossi is in jail, why did Mr Maynard just say he found him?’

  ‘That’s a darn good question, kid,’ Emma said, sounding impressed. ‘I had the same one.’

  Clay sat in the chair across from them. ‘We don’t think he was working alone, Cordelia. Your mom doesn’t know him, so we looked through her files last night to find something that would explain why he was so anxious to keep her quiet. And who has his back.’

  Cordelia’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘You want his accomplice.’

  Clay tried to hide his smile and failed. ‘That’s a big word for an almost-eight-year-old.’

  Her chin came up defiantly. ‘I’m not some dumb little girl, Mr Maynard.’

  ‘Did I ever
say you were? Did I ever give you a reason to believe I even thought it? Ever?’

  Cordelia seemed to consider his question. ‘No. Never. All right, Mom. I’ll go play with the puppies, but that won’t take very long.’ Her expression went sly. ‘If you want me out of your hair even longer, there’s a computer in the room where I was sleeping. It’s hooked up to the Internet. I know other words, too. Like “retail therapy”.’

  Emma snorted back a laugh. ‘God, I love you, Cordelia Mazzetti.’

  Stevie chuckled. ‘So do I. You can pick out one outfit.’ She held up an index finger. ‘One.’

  ‘With shoes?’ Cordelia challenged.

  ‘You have to stop spending so much time watching Project Runway with your Aunt Izzy. Fine. Shoes, too, but that’s all. I mean it. Aunt Emma knows where I put my credit card.’

  Emma put her arm around Cordelia’s shoulders. ‘Count me in for a purse. It can be an early birthday present.’

  The two left, leaving Stevie and Clay alone in the kitchen. It quickly grew very quiet.

  ‘That was exactly the right thing to say,’ Clay murmured. ‘That she was your daughter. That made her very proud.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Cheeks warm from his praise, Stevie stared down at her plate. ‘So. You found Rossi in my files?’

  ‘Indirectly. JD finally sent Rossi’s personnel file a few minutes ago. Said there was some issue getting his hands on it. Rossi’s PBA rep lodged an official objection.’

  ‘I used to hate the idea of the union reps, but mine was useful.’ She looked around the kitchen, anywhere but at him. But he was watching her. She could feel his gaze, heat shimmering across her skin. ‘IA investigated me after we found out about Silas and all his crimes. My rep made sure they respected my rights. A lot of people couldn’t believe I was so clueless as to not know what my own partner was up to all those years. A lot of people still don’t believe me.’

  ‘You trusted him,’ Clay said evenly. ‘And he was smart.’

  ‘Yeah. My parents said that anyone who really knew me would know that I wasn’t involved. That I couldn’t have been. But we all thought we knew Silas and we were very wrong.’