Too Far Gone

by Allison Brennan

  “What about her?”

  “I’ve been doing my research. She’s been involved in several high-profile and dangerous operations. What if we stage an attack on her? Make sure that it gets in the press, or at least something that will force Rogan to tell Madison about it. Especially if Jesse’s around—Madison would go ballistic.”

  That was true, Carson thought. She might demand that Jesse come home. Carson had to get the kid away from Rogan before he turned the kid against both Carson and Madison.

  “Jesse can’t get hurt. Not a scratch.”

  “Of course not.”

  “And she can’t see it coming. Don’t kill her—just shake her up. I can’t have anyone at Rogan-Caruso-Kincaid investigating a murder—it’ll make the whole thing far too hot. But if she gets shaken, it’ll put Rogan on edge. In fact, if he’s worried about his wife, he might send Jesse back on his own.” That would be best—because then it’s Rogan’s choice, not even Madison pushing for it. Make Rogan seem like he’s picking his wife over his son. That wouldn’t go over well with Jesse or Madison. And maybe Carson could get part of his life back.

  “She’s working a high-profile case now. I’m going to head to San Antonio first thing in the morning to keep my eye on the situation. After all, you saved my ass. I’ll never forget it, Carson.”

  Carson had told the FBI almost everything about his career as a lawyer and accountant for the cartels. But there were a few people he protected—people whom they would never even think to look at, like philanthropist multimillionaire Jeremy Robertson. Carson had long ago helped Jeremy hide money from his first ex-wife, and they’d been friends ever since.

  Jeremy drained his drink. “And is plan B still on?”

  “Of course. As soon as Jesse is back in Sacramento, Sean Rogan must die.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lucy didn’t get home until after ten. Bandit greeted her, but Sean wasn’t in the kitchen. She tracked him and Jesse to the family room, where they were watching a movie. It was clear that they’d just gotten out of the swimming pool—the subtle scent of chlorine hung in the air—and they were still in their swim trunks, wrapped in towels, on the recliner chairs. She smiled. Jesse looked so much like Sean it was eerie. They had the same dark-blue eyes and solitary dimple. Jesse’s hair was a lighter brown than Sean’s, but there was no mistaking the resemblance.

  “We just started the movie,” Jesse said. “We can rewind if you want.”

  “No, I’m good. Finish watching, I’m going to shower and eat. Long day.”

  She leaned over and kissed Sean.

  “Bring your plate in here,” Sean said.

  “I will.”

  Lucy showered, then went downstairs to warm a plate. Sean was already doing it. “You don’t have to stop the movie for me,” she said.

  “Jesse crashed ten minutes after you left,” Sean said. “I left him in the family room with the movie going. I’ll wake him up in a bit. You look tired.”

  “Long day. And I did a death notification right before I came home.”

  He rubbed her back and kissed her again. “I’m sorry. McMahon? The hostage-taker?”

  “No—his wife showed up only minutes after SWAT took him out.”

  “I talked to Nate a bit about the situation—he hates being on leave.”

  “It was justified, he’ll be cleared.” Lucy grabbed a water bottle from the counter. “Leo and I went out to McMahon’s house and found a body—his best friend.” She drank half the bottle.

  “He killed his best friend?”

  “That’s what people think, but I don’t know.” She sat down at the island and took a bite. Though she hadn’t eaten much today, she wasn’t that hungry. “There’s a lot of things that don’t add up. Yeah, on the surface he snapped. Wife left him, lost his job. But it’s more than that. He was in pain—physically and emotionally. No one saw him at the house for weeks. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t there, but no one saw him there. We’re going to interview his former employer tomorrow, talk to his wife again, find out where he was living since it wasn’t the house. I’m really just too tired to think anymore tonight.” Sean was listening to her, but he kept glancing down the hall.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  “We can talk later.”

  “Tell me,” she insisted.

  He rubbed her arms up and down, sat next to her at the island. “I was followed leaving the Rib House.”

  “Followed? Like a tail?”

  “Black sedan, no front plate, they were definitely following me. I lost them near the mission.”

  “That’s nowhere near the Rib House, or on the way home.”

  “I wasn’t going to lead them here. And I got them running the red light on Roosevelt and Military. Do you think you can sweet-talk one of your friends into getting me the photo? I have the exact time.”

  “Of course you do,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I might not need you to call in a favor. I called Jesse’s handler in the marshals’ office; I’m going to stop by in the morning. They still won’t give me the threat assessment, but promised to answer my questions.”

  “I sense a but.”

  “I called Rick.” Rick Stockton was one of the assistant directors in the FBI and a good friend of the Rogans. “I asked for a favor. He’s going to make some calls. No promises, but I think he can get it done.”

  “The marshals would have never let the Spades out of WITSEC if there was any danger.”

  “Unless Carson Spade lied about potential threats.”

  “Why would he do that? He’s in as much danger as Jesse—actually more.”

  “I know. But I don’t like that guy.”

  Sean glanced over his shoulder as if worried that Jesse could hear him.

  Lucy stepped into his arms. “You’ve done a great job with Jesse. I know this is difficult for you, but Jesse trusts you and you’ve really worked hard at forgiving Madison and Carson.”

  “Madison—yeah. I’ll never be completely okay with missing the first twelve years of Jesse’s life, but she’s trying, so I can try. But Carson? No. There’s no forgiveness for what he did. I don’t like him and, more important, I don’t trust him.”

  “For Jesse, maybe try keeping that under wraps.”

  “I’m really trying.” Sean kissed her and smiled. “He wants to change his name. To Rogan.”

  Tears of joy clouded her vision. “Oh, Sean—that’s wonderful.”

  “He told me tonight when we were waiting at the Rib House. I almost started bawling right there. I just love that kid so much, and I love that he’s bounced back after everything he’s been through. I want to do right by him, and I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

  “You love him, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Are you okay with it?”

  “Of course. I love Jesse. I wish—well, nothing. I’m just happy for you.”

  She wasn’t going to spoil the moment for Sean. Lucy couldn’t have children, and it had taken a long time before she could accept it. She loved that Sean had a son … she just wished they could have a child together.

  He leaned in and held her face. “I know, princess. I know this is hard for you.”

  “This isn’t hard. Not what you think. You, Jesse, me, we’re good. We’re very good, and I’m glad he’s a part of our lives.” She took a deep breath. “Carina is pregnant again. She’s due end of November. She emailed the family today after her three-month checkup. I’m happy for her and Nick.”

  “But.”

  “No buts.”

  “We can start talking about adopting. It might take a while.”

  “We will—but not now. We’re still newlyweds, and I’m enjoying being newlyweds very much.”

  Sean kissed her and ran his hands through her damp hair. “Me, too,” he said, kissing her neck.

  She loved this man, and she felt so lucky to have him in her life. Then he tickled her and she yelped.

 
“None of that here,” she said with a laugh. “Let me eat, go put Jesse to bed, and then maybe you’ll get some more kisses upstairs.”

  “I’m counting on a lot more than a few kisses,” he said with a wink.

  * * *

  Sean wasn’t asleep when his phone vibrated on the nightstand. He grabbed the phone before it woke Lucy and slipped into the adjoining room that Lucy used as her in-home office. He closed the door and answered.

  “Rogan.”

  “It’s Kane. Siobhan and I were in Arteaga helping the sisters finish repairs after the storm.”

  Sean didn’t even know how to respond to Kane. He’d never apologized for not being accessible by phone, and he never explained why. Kane’s relationship with Siobhan, and her affiliation with the charitable organization Sisters of Mercy, had changed him.

  “I was followed today. Don’t have a clear description of the guys—two men, dark sedan, no plates. But what’s been bothering me is I don’t know where they picked me up. They followed me out of the Rib House off Becerra and I lost them around the mission—after I forced them to run a red light.”

  “Get the photos?”

  “I’m trying to go through semi-legal channels. Lucy’s going to talk to one of her contacts at SAPD, I’m talking to the marshals. I checked my Jeep for a tracker—it’s clean. Checked my phone and Jesse’s—both clean.”

  “Who knew where you were eating?”

  “No one—I was picking up takeout.”

  “Did you call it in?”

  “No. I go there at least once a week. They know me, they love Lucy.”

  “I know the place. Good business, good people, sketchy area.”

  “I must have missed a tail. I would have noticed the dark sedan in my neighborhood, but maybe there was a second vehicle. Then why didn’t they tag-team me leaving the place?” he asked.

  “Sweep the house and cars again. Do you think it’s the Flores cartel?”

  “I don’t know. Carson pissed off a lot of people when he turned state’s evidence.”

  “Jose is out of the business, and he’s the lone surviving family member. I’ve kept tabs on him. He’s relocated, and I’m certain he’s staying clean—but I’ll verify.”

  “I honestly don’t know if Jesse’s the target—or what we were involved with at the end of March. Zimmerman is still alive.” Tommy Zimmerman had run an underage sex-trafficking organization from coast to coast that Sean and Lucy had helped shut down. But they’d worked on the periphery—there were others who’d be more realistic targets for revenge.

  “He won’t be getting out of prison, but it’s a valid point. I’ll talk to JT and he’ll make sure there’s no chatter coming from Zimmerman. I’ll be up there tomorrow.”

  “Why? A job?”

  Kane paused. “To keep my eye on you and Jesse.”

  “I’ve got it under control, Kane.”

  “Well, I don’t have anything else to do. Siobhan is staying with the sisters for another week. I like the nuns, but I can only take them in small doses.”

  Sean chuckled. “They wouldn’t let you and Siobhan share a room, would they?”

  “What’s with these people?” Kane said. “We live together.”

  “They’re devout.”

  “It’s ridiculous,” he muttered.

  “And how does coming back to Texas help the situation?” He paused when he realized the truth. “You came back because you got my message. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re my brother. Jesse’s my nephew. I’m not going to let these fuckers mess with what’s mine. I’ll see you by noon.” He hung up.

  Kane had a funny way of saying I love you, but his message was clear, and Sean was relieved. He could protect Jesse, but he recognized that it wouldn’t be a lot of fun for the kid if he put him on house arrest—especially since there wasn’t an explicit threat and Sean didn’t know who to protect him from.

  Sean went back to bed, but doubted he’d be able to sleep for a while.

  “How’s Kane?” Lucy rolled over and rested her hands on his chest.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “You sounded worried.”

  “Just want to make sure no one thinks they can go after my kid.”

  “They’d be fools.” She kissed him. “So is Kane on his way?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Because he’s Kane.” She rolled on top of Sean and kissed him again. And again.

  “It’s two in the morning.”

  “You’re awake, I’m awake, and we’re in bed. Almost naked.”

  “I’m almost naked.” Sean slept in his boxers. “You have clothes.”

  She pulled her tank top over her head. “Now I’m almost naked, too.” She pressed her bare chest against his. She touched him, his face, his arms, between his legs. He groaned and wrapped his arms tight around her.

  Lucy was just what he needed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Thirteen cops filled one of the conference rooms at SAPD—seven from SAPD and six from the FBI. Lucy was surprised so many people showed up, but realized several were present to give reports and wouldn’t otherwise be involved in the investigation. Lieutenant Jordan Young started promptly. “We all have work to do, and you all know how much I love meetings, so we’re going to make this quick. We know what happened yesterday, and our job is to figure out why it happened. The autopsy is scheduled this morning. My office is handling the press—the PIO is giving bare-bones information, and that includes information about the body at McMahon’s house. Detective Mancini, start with the results of the witness interviews yesterday.”

  Tia nodded to CSI Ash Dominguez, who dimmed the lights and launched a computer program on the whiteboard. “I’ve distributed copies of all statements—these are eyes-only because they’re unedited. Most are consistent, but there are a few anomalies that we’re going to follow up on. Ash, Jason, and I were up into the wee hours putting together this computer model because I think it’s important that we know as much as we can about what happened immediately prior to McMahon taking hostages, and why there are some discrepancies.” She nodded to Ash, who clicked to the first screen, showing a diagram of the inside of the coffee shop. There were three different colors for the people, all displayed in silhouettes, and McMahon was in black. She used a laser pointer to direct.

  “McMahon was sitting at this corner table near the window. The blinds were tilted up because the front of the store faces east and gets bright in the mornings. This is standard operation—they generally open them fully at noon according to the manager.

  “McMahon’s table had the best view of the door. He could see everyone coming in or out, but had little visibility of the counter or any other tables other than those immediately around him, because of this”—she pointed—“eight-foot-long, six-foot-high display rack that was used both for merchandise and to divide the sitting area. According to the time stamp on his tea, he ordered at ten twenty-four a.m. Witnesses concur that he sat at the table alone.

  “At ten thirty-five, two girls entered the store—April and Cindy. They’re fifteen and were cutting summer school. They went to the first half of their class and had a thirty-minute break, but decided they wouldn’t return. They were drinking and discussing what to do for the day at the table next to McMahon. By ten fifty both girls agree that McMahon appeared agitated. He seemed to be debating whether to leave—he got up at one point, then sat back down. He began to talk to himself. They specifically heard, ‘Where’s Paul? Did you kill him?’ Here’s where this gets interesting. April’s statement is that McMahon was talking to another man who stood by the display rack. She heard the man talk, but his voice was low and she couldn’t hear what he said. But she swears that McMahon was talking to him and listening to him. No one else—not even her friend Cindy—remembers this man.”

  Tia pointed to a figure standing about three feet from McMahon next to the display rack. “April says the man was looking at the mugs. The manager, here�
��—she pointed to a figure in green—“approached McMahon and asked if he could help him, if he needed anything. McMahon grew more agitated and grabbed the manager, revealing that he had a gun. Several witnesses said they saw only one gun, but two witnesses said he held one and had another in his waistband, under his jacket. At some point after the manager approached McMahon, but before McMahon pulled his gun—which was less than a minute—the man at the display rack—we’ll call him POI One—left.

  “Here’s where things get confusing, but thanks to Ash we’ve put together what we believe is an accurate series of events. As soon as McMahon drew his gun, eight people closest to the door fled.” The screen showed which people bolted. “Several others took cover.” The screen shifted and showed people hunched on the floor. “McMahon ordered one hostage to lock the door. The employees behind the counter hit the floor and crawled into the adjoining kitchen.” Ash clicked and showed a new screen. “This is how the scene looked when the first nine-one-one call came in. The rest we’ve put together based on witness statements and Tim Yancey’s thermal imaging program.” As she spoke, the scene played out behind her. Mostly, people were still, but McMahon paced, holding the manager close to him.

  Tia continued. “Most witnesses heard McMahon talking about Paul, whom we have identified as Paul Grey, his colleague and friend, who was found deceased in McMahon’s house last night. Most witnesses claimed that he was ‘rambling,’ that he made no sense, but we’ve put together phrases that more than one person heard. They include multiple questions about Paul, that he must be dead, that ‘they’ killed him. ‘They’ are not identified by name, but McMahon talked about ‘them,’ and several people called him skittish and paranoid. He told himself to ‘think’ or ‘remember’ no less than twenty times. SAPD arrived on scene within seven minutes of the first nine-one-one call, and SWAT and Lieutenant Young were on site within eleven minutes.