Blind Retribution

by K. T. Roberts

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Cory woke up earlier than usual on Monday, anxious to get a hold of Greg, the son of his grandfather’s former business partner in the clothing industry. Sitting down with his coffee, he wondered how Greg was going to react to him calling after so much time had passed.

  After word had gotten out about him borrowing the money from a client, it had spread around the club like a fire. When Avery Paulson, one of the partners at the firm, and a club member, let it be known what Cory had done, Cory had pulled away from everything, including his friends, and focused solely on his family and his niece. It was the embarrassment of his friends knowing what he’d done. Although those who knew him really well would know he hadn’t done it for his own gain.

  Regardless, it was Jack now who needed the help, and he had to put his pride aside and wait to see what Greg’s reaction to him would be. If anyone would know about Jeffrey and the senator, it would be Greg. His wife was known as a busybody and knew everyone’s business.

  He flipped through his phone directory, clicked on Greg’s number, and waited for him to pick up.

  Hearing Greg’s voice, Cory felt his stomach turn over.

  “Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch. I was just talking about you the other day.”

  “I hope it was good.”

  “Of course it was good. Where you been, buddy?”

  Feeling uneasy, he forced himself to act normal. “So good to talk to you.”

  “You too. What happened?”

  “What do you mean, what happened?”

  “To us?”

  “I haven’t been in touch with anyone, Greg.”

  “Yeah, Cory, but we’re friends. You know I don’t hold anything against you because of what happened. I know the kind of person you are. Hearing about your niece’s cancer, I totally understood, but I wish you’d come to me first. I would have lent you the money.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that, Greg, but getting others involved was the last thing I wanted. But I do need your help for Jack. I’m working a case, and I was hoping someone who’s still a member of the club might be able to help me.”

  “Shoot,” Greg said, “I’m still a member and I spend a good deal of time there. What do you need?”

  “I’d prefer to discuss this in person.”

  “No problem. Sounds ominous. How’s tonight? I made reservations at the club for the family, and everyone, including the wife, bailed on me. Why don’t you join me for dinner?”

  “I haven’t been to the club in a long time, and . . .” he stammered.

  “Cory, you don’t need to say a thing. You know what I say about all those two-dollar millionaires? Screw ’em,” Greg said. “I’ll meet you by the entrance at six-thirty tonight.” After they’d disconnected, warm thoughts of his childhood played over in Cory’s mind. He and Greg had been friends since high school, where he, Jack, and Greg had played on the football team and then hung out after college until Greg got married and had children. Since neither Jack nor he ever married, they no longer had much in common. Cory smiled at the thought of having a reunion with Greg. It was going to be nice to catch up with someone he’d known since childhood.

  Stepping out of the shower, Cory toweled off and walked to his closet to pick out a suit. Going to the club after his scandal felt uncomfortable. Even his stomach was playing racquetball at the thought of seeing those familiar faces again after all this time. Choosing the gray suit with a striped shirt and coordinating tie, he buckled his belt and slipped his feet into his tasseled loafers. He ran a comb through his hair and slipped his jacket on. Taking one last look to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, he checked himself in the mirror, then walked outside and locked his front door. Tonight, he’d give his 2009 Mercedes a workout. He hadn’t driven it since he’d left the firm. It brought back too many painful memories. He wondered what Max would think when she saw it. Judging from her reaction to his old junker, he was certain she could care less. Besides, he’d learned quickly that the car wasn’t worth that much money when he tried to trade it in to pay for his niece’s surgery. It didn’t even come close to what the surgeon was charging, and by that time, his girlfriend’s idea had already taken root in his mind. Sitting behind the steering wheel again reminded him of how much he’d been missing. Going to the country club for dinner was always a treat.

  He’d thought he had a huge circle of friends at the club, but he’d quickly learned they weren’t as invested in him as he was in them. One man in particular named Dominic Williams, who also happened to be friends with Barrett, had struck up a friendship with him. Cory didn’t like any of Barrett’s friends, but Dom quickly won him over, frequently having a beer with him after a golf game. Unfortunately, Dom was one of the people who’d turned his back on him. As for the rest? He remembered most of them as consistently getting drunk and making asses of themselves. These days, they weren’t even close to the kind of people he wanted to associate with on a regular basis. His grandfather always said you were judged by the company you kept.

  Nevertheless, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the interaction. Shaking his head, he wondered if he could ever rejoin the club. He decided that was a thing of the past, but if he ever did go for membership again, it would certainly never be at the Bayside Country Club and Marina. He wasn’t sure he could ever feel comfortable there again.

  Cory pulled up to the circular driveway in front of the country club and got out of his car at the parking attendant’s station, deciding to wait outside for Greg. One thing he really liked about the club was the creativity of the landscaping crew and how they maintained the rolling hills of green velvety grass. In the very early spring, they even arranged large pots filled with flowers to remind members that warmer weather was right around the corner. Despite the bare trees of October, the club was still posh and beautiful.

  Checking his watch, it suddenly dawned on Cory that he’d neglected to ask Greg what kind of car he drove, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway because Greg was the last person who’d ever park his own car. It was no secret Greg enjoyed the finer things in life, and paying someone to take care of what he considered menial tasks was right up his alley. Cory walked around, trying to kill his impatience, when he recalled a conversation with Greg about his own wedding. Notorious for being late, Greg had made a joke about showing up later than the bride. Apparently his wife didn’t think it was so funny because she really smashed a piece of the wedding cake in his face at the reception.

  Although most people just rolled with Greg’s tardiness because it was part of his persona, it drove Cory nuts. Nevertheless, he regretted not having kept in touch. But his embarrassment, and the speed with which people abandoned him after his legal issues became public, left him wary and afraid to test any more friendships.

  Just as Cory was about to ask the attendant what kind of car Greg drove, a white Lexus sedan with gold trim pulled up to the station. Greg waved to him before getting out of the car.

  “Hey, buddy, so good to see you. You don’t look any worse for wear after what you’ve been through.”

  “Thanks. You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

  “It’s the good life,” he said, patting his belly. “So let’s go inside, have a drink and a decent meal. My wife should have given me a warning when we met that she didn’t like to cook.”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure she has other meaningful attributes.”

  “She does, and she’s a helluva good mother.” Greg acknowledged a few of his friends, who’d quickly turned away when they saw Cory with him.

  The maître d’ walked them to their table. “Good to see you, Mr. Rossini.”

  “Thank you, Jerome. I appreciate the welcome. It’s good to see you too.”

  “So what’s our Monday night special, Jerome?” Greg asked.

  “Meat loaf. That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is,” Greg said, pulling out his chair to sit. Cory sat down across from him and delibera
tely ignored his surroundings.

  “Martini?” Greg pointed to Cory.

  “Sure. That sounds good.” They unconsciously watched the man walk to the bar.

  “Okay, let’s get down to business. How can I help you?” Greg said.

  “I’m working on a homicide investigation for which Jack is being charged.”

  “I’d heard about Jack and I was sick over it, but not sure what to think, because I knew he had an intense dislike for Barrett, as most of the ‘real’ people do.”

  “Surely, you don’t think Jack is capable of killing anyone?”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that,” Greg said. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  Cory filled Greg in on some of the things he’d been doing in his new career.

  “Let me ask you something. What do you know about Jeffrey Barrett and Senator Stansbury?” Cory asked, finally.

  “They’ve been an item for a long time.”

  “Do you know this for certain?”

  “I do.”

  “How long have they been together?”

  “Maybe two years, but time flies, so I may not be remembering it correctly.” Greg looked at Cory with disbelief. “I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”

  “I never paid attention to that pompous ass or his friends. Where did you first hear it?”

  “My wife.” Greg stopped talking. “Okay, that’s it.” He pointed a finger in the air. “You don’t have a gossipy wife.” He suddenly jerked his shoulders and looked around to see who was close by and lowered his voice. “I’d better be careful. These women are as tough as a lynch mob.” They’d almost finished their martinis, so Greg ordered another round, then continued. “Anyway, after Nancy told me, I figured it was just that—idle gossip—until one day we were sailing out to sea. I guess it was the end of June when I saw the senator’s yacht hightailing it like she was in a race, and lo and behold, Barrett wasn’t far behind on his own yacht. We continued on our way only to return a while later, and sure enough, they’d dropped sea anchors and were lashed side by side with boat bumpers, pretty damn far from the shoreline.”

  Cory snickered. “That’s a clever way to cheat—no witnesses so far out. But how did you know it was her yacht?”

  “Stansbury’s yacht is fairly easy to spot because she named it after an act near and dear to her heart that she helped get passed. I happen to know the guy who painted the name Heroes on the boat.”

  “Heroes?” Cory asked.

  “Yeah, the Helping Heroes Keep their Homes Act. I wasn’t about to blow the whistle on Barrett, not because I like him, but I don’t need the drama. I figured his wife would find out sooner or later. As for the other members who saw him and the senator together, I don’t know if they ever asked him what was going on.”

  “Excellent information, Greg. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  They ordered their dinner when the waiter appeared. Greg ordered the night’s offering of meat loaf and Cory ordered a steak. “So how’s the family?” Cory asked.

  “Good. The kids are getting big. They’re at the age when they don’t want to hang out with the parents anymore.” Greg shrugged. “It gives my wife and me more time together, and that’s a good thing.”

  “I imagine it is, and frankly, I’m a little envious,” Cory said.

  “Why is that? No involvement with anyone?”

  “No. I haven’t found anyone who wants to marry me,” Cory said with a touch of humor.

  “Now, I can’t imagine that being true. Are you dating anyone special?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Anyone I know?” Greg asked.

  “I don’t think so, not unless you’ve been in trouble lately.” Greg frowned. “She’s a detective, and she’s working on Barrett’s case, and, man, she’s mighty fine.” Cory wiggled his brows.

  Greg laughed. “Now that sounds serious.”

  “What? The case or us?”

  “Both.”

  “It could be.” Dinner was delivered and the two men dug into their food.

  “It’s so good to see you, Cory. Wait until I tell Nancy I had dinner with you. She’s going to be so envious. She’s always liked you.”

  “I’ve always liked her too, Greg.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever renew your membership here at the club?”

  “Not this one, that’s for sure. Not with the way those who I thought were my friends turned their backs on me. They’ll never get another chance to hurt me.”

  “Yeah, but I’m the only one of your friends who really matters, and I didn’t turn my back on you.” The waiter delivered another round of martinis, and Greg held his up and toasted, “Here’s to more great nights of getting together. I’ve missed you, Cory.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Greg. As soon as Jack’s freed, we’ll go out and tie one on like old times.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Greg said, “and maybe next time this Madame Detective will actually be your girl.”

  “I’ll definitely drink to that one!”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  He moved with the grace of a panther, reached up and covered the security camera lens with a cloth, and carefully taped around it so the fabric wouldn’t fall off. He then unscrewed the lightbulb near her car in the parking garage, stopping for a few minutes when he heard noises. Remaining quiet, he thought about the important job he and his team had to do. He crouched low to the cement floor in his black ninja suit that covered everything but his eyes. His training had prepared him for this. Excitement surged through every part of his body, and he loved it. This is what he was meant to do—be part of an elite team of specially trained naval forces.

  Killing those who threatened the United States was satisfying. He relished knowing that he’d stopped the enemy in its tracks. He loved the element of surprise, of sneaking up on enemies and watching their faces morph into panic.

  When the noise stopped, he scanned the area to make sure he was safe to move around. Then he made his way to her car. He’d been following her mother for days, but decided the impact of the daughter’s death would have more of an effect. “An eye for an eye,” he whispered. Yes, the enemy’s daughter would have to pay for her mother’s sins. It was better this way.

  He impatiently checked the time again. She had already been shopping for two hours at this silly midnight sale. He could feel his pulse pounding through his veins. His excitement escalated and made him antsy. He tried to calm down, because just one mistake could shoot his plan to hell. Patience, his mind shouted, patience.

  Snaking his way around to the passenger’s side of the vehicle, he saw his commander’s hand rise in the air, giving him the go-ahead. He reached up and held the weather stripping apart with his fingers so he could slowly slide the tool down along the window, hoping he was going slow enough to make contact with the door mechanism. He felt the clunk of having the tool in just the right place, the pounding in his ears magnified by the tight-fitting hood covering his head. This is what made him tick. He pulled back on the tool until he felt the lock pop, opened the car door, and hurried inside, shutting the door quickly. He removed a screwdriver from the belt around his waist, felt for the screws on the dome light, and performed his magic, removing the lid and the bulb.

  Now that the interior light was disconnected, she’d never see him crouched down on the floor in the back. Smiling, he couldn’t wait to make contact. To curb his excitement, he focused on his own breathing, reminding himself not to move too fast because he could ruin everything. He knew better than to become overanxious and blow the ambush.

  The silence was deafening. Apparently, everyone else was involved in getting the best deal at this hour. He shifted to a more comfortable position just as the car door opened and she entered, talking to someone. For a split second he panicked but quickly realized she was on her cell phone. Slowly, he managed to bring himself back into the right frame of mind.

  She eased herself down into the car seat, flin
ging her package into the backseat, just missing him by an inch or so, while she continued to talk. She pulled the seat belt over her chest with her right hand while holding the phone with her left, snapping the end into place. She continued her conversation as she shoved her key into the ignition and started the car, pushing the heater lever over to high, trying to force the fan to blow out warm air.

  “Yeah,” she said to whomever was on the other end of the call, “you should have seen that bastard’s face when he realized I wasn’t giving in. If security hadn’t intervened when they did, I don’t know what would have happened. He was madder than hell.” She laughed. “And you know me, I wasn’t about to give in to his demands. He probably bullies his wife too.” She paused. “Been there, done that. No man will ever have that power over me again. Ever!”

  His excitement peaked when he rubbed his fingers over the sharpness of the blade. He rose swiftly and caught her off guard, sliding the knife from left to right, enjoying the sound of her skin coming apart. Her scream was horrifying. Blood shot out from her throat, spraying the front windshield. When the last gurgle escaped from her mouth, the phone dropped to the floor and her body slouched to the right. He positioned her upright while her friend’s screams screeched through the phone and bounced off the windows like surround sound.

  Mission accomplished. He smiled, ready for his next assignment as he slipped out of the car and vanished into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Cory wished his mind would stop replaying his last encounter with Max. Since he hadn’t heard from her, it was obvious she wasn’t over his sharp rebuttal yet. He heaved a sigh. God, he wished he hadn’t been so caustic. He really hadn’t meant to fly off the handle the way he had, but after having one barracuda in his past, his instinct was to retaliate. Max shouldn’t have to take the brunt of what Lyndsey had done to him. He sighed, unable to stop that annoying feeling dwelling inside him that he’d been a complete jerk about it. He hoped sharing the information Greg had given him about Barrett would break the ice. That’s if they were still talking.