The Belial Stone (The Belial Series)

by Brady, R. D.

  Seeley shook his head.

  “They said we’d all be flying in G7s and living the high life one day. Truth was, the only high life any of us led was the result of a blunt and most of us never even left the neighborhood, never mind flying in a private jet. And I looked up G7s when I was inside. They never even made a jet with that name. The highest they went was the G5.”

  “What’d you go in for, anyway?” Seeley asked. Yesterday, Seeley had told him he’d gotten locked up for dealing. But before Tom could tell his story, a guard had moved only ten feet away from them. There’d been no conversations after that.

  “Started as felonious murder, but it got knocked down to manslaughter.”

  “No shit?” Seeley asked.

  “No shit. I was the driver. But that didn’t matter, especially when one of my guys cut a deal with the district attorney. I got fifteen and he only got a nickel.”

  Seeley grunted. “You know, they talk a good game about being brothers and staying loyal. But push comes to shove, that don’t mean shit. They’ll turn on you in a heartbeat.”

  “Yeah. And the thing that kills me is that my Gran died while I was locked up. She was the only one who cared. She showed up to visit every week. Took her two buses and three hours each way. Didn’t matter. She always came.”

  “Yeah. My girl was like that. She always showed up. My brothers? Didn’t see one of them.” Seeley paused and glanced at a movement behind Tom. “Hey man, heads up.”

  Tom looked over his shoulder. The guards on the day shift were pulling up to the enclosure entrance. The first thing they did when they came on duty was wake up the workers. The usual wake-up involved some variation of a kindly greeting of, “Wake up, maggots!” followed by gunfire over the cage. Then, for the poor fools who were too exhausted to hear even that, a kick in the face or the back. That usually did the trick.

  Tom’s stomach clenched as he watched the guards head towards him and the rest of the men stuck in the sleeping area, a smirk on their faces. They carried a fire hose over to the water spout outside the cage and hooked it up. Dragging it behind them, the two guards laughed as they headed for the cage entrance.

  He glared through the wire. “Bastards.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Syracuse, NY

  After finishing their coffee, Laney and Jake headed for the station. Jake had argued that they should head out of town. But Laney couldn’t do it. Frank had been killed helping her and Marcos was hurt. She needed to do her part to help get the bastard. And then she needed to get her uncle.

  The station was in an uproar when they arrived. Rocky latched onto Laney’s arm as soon as she walked in the door and led her to an interrogation room. Jake was escorted by Mike to a different one.

  As the door closed behind them, Laney turned to Rocky. “How’s Marcos?”

  “Still in surgery. They’re not sure he’s going to make it.”

  Laney slumped into a chair. “Do you have any idea how that guy found us?”

  Anger laced Rocky’s words. “Two more detectives were killed. About thirty minutes before the attack on the safe house. We think it’s the same shooter. We’re guessing he got the location from them.”

  Oh my God. Laney wrapped her arms around herself, leaning forward in her chair. “I’m so sorry, Rocky.”

  Rocky knelt down in front of her and waited until Laney met her eyes. “You listen to me, Delaney McPhearson. The only person who needs to apologize here is that asshole who attacked you. You have nothing to apologize for. You hear me?”

  Laney nodded, but she still.

  Rocky squeezed her knee, before pulling up a chair next to her. “Okay, now I think you know the drill. Tell me everything that happened, and leave nothing out.”

  Laney nodded. She detailed every event since arriving at the safe house. When she was done, she felt like she’d run a marathon. How could a recounting be so exhausting?

  “You’re sure it’s the same guy from your house this morning?” Rocky asked.

  “I know it is.” She put up a hand to stop Rocky from speaking. “And I know, it’s not possible. But unless this morning’s attacker had a twin who also got hit by a shotgun in the face, it’s the same guy.”

  “Laney, shotgun blasts can't-”

  “Heal in that short a time. I know. I can’t explain it. I just know what I saw. I also saw him take two bullets in the chest without pause. Can’t explain that, either, in case you’re wondering.”

  They lapsed into silence. Finally, Rocky spoke. “Look, if anyone asks me about this next piece of the conversation, it never happened. Got it?”

  Laney nodded.

  “Okay. I think you need to leave town. I don’t know if it’s the same guy who came after you at the safe house. But someone is definitely after you. We need to hide you away.”

  Laney shook her head. “No. If someone goes looking for me and can’t find me, they’ll go after the people I care about - my uncle, Kati, Max, you.”

  “Kati and Max are already out of town. We’ll get them to extend their stay. And take your uncle with you.” She flexed her bicep. “And I’d like to see someone come after me.”

  “Rocky, I can't …”

  Rocky’s expression was fierce. “Yes. You can and you will. You are in danger. And I’ve got a place for you to go: Chandler Headquarters. That place is like Fort Knox.”

  “Down in Baltimore? But how? I can’t ask Jake to do that.”

  “Don’t have to. While you were having your little chat with Jake, I had one with Jake’s boss, Henry Chandler. It’s all arranged. There’s a plane arriving at the airport in about four hours for you guys. And I called your uncle. He’s going to say the evening Mass and then go with you.”

  Laney gave Rocky an incredulous look. “Jake can’t possibly agree to that. The email from Drew can’t have anything to do with his brother.”

  “Well, I saw how he watched you. I think the boy has a bit of a crush. And you are a bit of a damsel in distress right now.”

  Laney rolled her eyes. “I can honestly say that playing the part of the damsel in distress has never appealed to me. I much prefer being the knight in shining armor.”

  Rocky grinned. “Well, right now you’re a bit of a hybrid.” She pulled Laney into a tight hug. “Just try to avoid needing rescuing any time soon.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She pictured Paul’s face contorted with anger. A tremor ran through her. “But I don’t think that’s entirely my decision.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Washington, D.C.

  Gideon glided through the bustling halls of the U.S. Capitol behind Senator Robert Kensington. He adjusted his posture to look meek, unimportant. In these halls, the unimportant were given less attention than the furniture.

  Kensington, however, pulled attention to himself like a moth to a flame. He greeted the people who passed with a nod or smile. Tall with a large, open face, he was the perfect personification of the Washington politician: navy tailored suit, hair graying at the temples, a smile for every constituent, blue eyes that could convey sincerity, anger, or righteous indignation at the drop of a hat. The living embodiment of Machiavelli’s creed: Men in general judge more from appearances than reality. How foolish.

  Kensington stopped to chat with another senator, an obnoxious woman from Georgia. Gideon settled himself against a wall to wait.

  He peered up at the Capitol Dome and the Apotheosis of Washington, painted by Constantino Brumidi. People zipped passed him, but he paid them no heed now. Adorning the eye of the rotunda, the fresco depicted George Washington rising to heaven. George Washington was immortalized as if he were a god.

  The fresco always caused a small burn in Gideon’s chest. A human as a god. There was no end to their arrogance.

  But even Gideon had to admit he could feel the power of the building. Power that had been wielded by men since the birth of this country.

  Kensington glanced back at him. With a haughty tilt of his head, he indicated that Gideon
should follow.

  Gideon imagined smashing him into Washington's face above. The image tamped down his anger at the man's imperious manner. He sighed. It was only a short while longer until this farce would be at an end.

  “Robert.”

  Gideon glanced behind him and saw Frederick Santolt, the chairman of Kensington’s party, walking towards them. Freddy, as he liked to be called, always portrayed a down-home charm that went over well with the media and constituents. Behind the scenes, however, Freddy was a shark who made all the other politicians look like guppies. And, Gideon knew, he was the man who held the keys to Kensington’s dream.

  Kensington turned on his full watt smile. “Freddy, how’re you doing? Great speech on the union measure.”

  Freddy grasped his hand in a firm handshake and placed his other hand on Kensington’s bicep, his “I’m your buddy” shake. Gideon noticed Kensington’s shoulders stiffen in response. And for good reason. Freddy only employed the buddy handshake when he was delivering bad news.

  Well, this should be entertaining. Gideon glided closer to the pair.

  “I’m glad I ran into you,” Freddy drawled, somehow pulling off a Texas accent even though he had been born and bred in Boston. “Just got off the phone with a few of our big sponsors. They’re very excited about the upcoming election. They think we have a real shot.”

  “I’m glad. I think it’s our turn.”

  “Indeed, indeed.” Freddy replied. Gideon barely avoided grimacing at the man’s conversational mainstay. “That’s, in fact, what I wanted to talk to you about. I know you have aspirations for the higher office.”

  “Well, I think we all dream of that job one day. I just hope I’m worthy.” Kensington provided the expected diplomatic response. God, these exchanges were tedious.

  Freddy beamed and nodded. “Absolutely. But we think that next time round, John Michaels is going to be the golden boy. He’s young, handsome, ambitious. The media just go nuts over him and he’s made quite a name for himself with his budget proposal. He’s really our rising star and we need to capitalize on that.”

  Kensington’s face and voice gave nothing away. “John’s an incredible asset for our party. He’s done some great things.”

  “Indeed, indeed,” Freddy said again. “We’re trying to get the whole party behind him and really put up a united front. Can we count on you?”

  Kensington gave Freddy his most sincere look. “Whatever’s best for the party, you know that.”

  Freddy clapped him on the shoulder. “Knew we could count on you. Let’s set up a round of golf sometime in the next month. Have your assistant call mine to arrange it.”

  “Will do.” Kensington replied as Freddy turned and headed back down the hall.

  Gideon could feel the anger flowing from Kensington as he watched Freddy leave.

  He turned and glared at Gideon. “Follow me.”

  Kensington led him through a series of hallways until they ended up in an empty conference room.

  Gideon closed the door behind them, abandoning all pretense of submissiveness. “Problem, Robert?”

  “Problem? Did you hear that prick? Michaels is a boy. He’s only in his second term as senator. He hasn’t paid his dues yet. It’s my turn.” He whirled around and paced the room. “You need to pick up the pace at the site. I need results sooner. I need something to show them.

  “We’re already working the men through the night. They’ll pass away that much quicker if we pick up the pace.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” he growled. “Work them all through the night for all I care. They can always be replaced. One thing America will never run out of is criminals. Make it happen, Gideon.” He stormed out of the room.

  Gideon watched him go, his eyes narrowed. If Kensington didn’t have all the necessary connections, Gideon would crush him like a bug. But he was right about picking up the pace. This was taking way too long.

  His phone rang. Speaking of which…

  “Paul. I take it our little situation is now under control?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Not quite?” he echoed, disbelief coating his words. “Are you telling me she’s still alive?”

  “She’s proven quite resourceful. But I’ll have her by the evening.”

  “Well, make it quick. The longer she’s out there, the greater the risk.”

  “I’ll handle it my way.” Paul’s words were covered in a layer of ice.

  Gideon stared at the ceiling and blew out a breath. Paul’s ego was damaged. He would need to beat McPhearson in a satisfying way, which meant not quick. Damn.

  “Where is she right now?”

  “At the police station.”

  Gideon glanced at his watch. “She’ll probably be there for a few hours. Keep her under surveillance. I have a plane waiting at the airport. I can be there in two hours. Don’t move on her until I get there.”

  “There’s no need for that, brother. I can handle her.”

  Gideon smiled. “I have no doubt of that. I just feel the need for a little fun.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Syracuse, NY

  Night was falling when Jake pulled into the U-shaped parking lot of the St. Hugh of Lincoln church. The lot had about ten cars in it, with a few more in the bigger parking lot behind the school. About the normal crowd, Laney told him, for an evening Mass.

  They’d spent three and a half hours at the police station: preparing their statements, going through mug books. But they’d had no luck. Whoever Paul was, he wasn’t in the system.

  Jake had insisted they head out of town. But Laney had refused without her uncle.

  Jake smiled, shaking his head as he followed her through the parking lot. He’d faced down drug runners, terrorists, and war-lords. And somehow this tiny woman had gotten him to postpone leaving town twice. Either he was slipping or… He shook his head, not wanting to follow that thought. He didn’t have time for that thought.

  They were going to pick up her uncle and then Rocky and her partner were going to escort them to the airport. He didn’t like the plan. It would take too much time. But Laney wouldn’t leave without her uncle.

  He’d considered man handling her into the plane but after reading her history, he was pretty sure he would not come out unscathed. And he did need her cooperation just in case any of this was related to the file her friend had sent her. Although for the life of him, he couldn’t see how it was

  So here they were, walking into a space he didn’t like, giving Paul more time to catch up with them.

  His eyes constantly checked the shadows for any movement as they headed for the rectory. He didn’t like this layout. There was only one exit. Laney explained the rectory didn’t have a back door. And while he’d be able to see anyone approaching, anyone would also be easily able to see them leaving.

  Laney paused at a break between the walls of the church and the school. “This is the courtyard.”

  He thought the term might be a bit generous. The three walls enclosing the area consisted of the elementary school on one side, the rectory in the middle, and the church on the right. And in between, more parking lot.

  “What’s with the basketball hoop?” Jake asked spying it on the opposite side of the courtyard.

  “Uncle Patrick had it erected for the neighborhood kids.”

  Jake caught a glimpse of a smile on her face. “And what’s with the smile?”

  Laney turned, her smile lighting up her face. Jake caught his breath. She really was stunning.

  “During the summer, we’d catch fireflies and drink ice tea on the porch. This place might look unimpressive to some, but to a child, it’s magical. Some of my best memories happened here.”

  They walked up the steps and Laney fished out her key from her pocket. Unlocking the door, she flipped on the light switch by the door, heading for the small kitchen. She set about brewing the tea and setting up some snacks.

  Jake smiled at the ease of her movements. She obviously felt at home
here. Her shoulders had lost some of their rigidity. She’d even started humming a little tune under her breath.

  Jake’s head whipped around as he heard a footfall on the porch outside. His hand went to his holster as the door opened.

  Laney appeared next to him, her hand on his arm. “It’s okay. It’s my uncle.”

  A man stood poised in the doorway. In his mind, Jake had envisioned Patrick Delaney as a frail old priest with a shuffling walk. The man who strode through the door was anything but. He was the picture of vitality.

  Jake felt Patrick size him up as he crossed the room. He restrained the urge to straighten his spine to match the older man’s posture. Although he was dressed in full priestly black, complete with the white collar, his eyes were that of a different kind of father when they came to rest on Laney.

  Patrick smiled and walked over to her with his arms outstretched. She walked into them without hesitation.

  A shudder ran through her as his arms closed around her, and then her shoulders dropped with relief.

  Jake glanced away from the comfort he saw in that hug, feeling as if he was an intruding.

  “Ah, my dear. Thank God you're all right.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine,” she said pulling away

  Patrick tilted up her chin. “That bruise on your cheek would suggest otherwise. And if you were fine, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be going into hiding.

  “Well, I didn’t say I was perfect.” She glanced over at Jake and smiled. “Uncle Patrick, this is Jake Rogan from the Chandler Group.

  Patrick turned to shake Jake’s hand. Jake always thought a handshake said a lot about a man. Patrick’s firm handshake said he was a straight shooter. Good

  Patrick followed Laney to the kitchen. “I cleared my schedule with the diocese after I got the call from Rocky. I have an extended leave of absence.” He paused. Jake could hear the concern in his tone. “Are you sure you're okay?”

  She nodded. “I am. I’ll be even better once we’re out of here and I know you’re safe.”