Twin Targets

by Marta Perry

  She made it sound as if they’d done the damage. Jade Summers must have steel in her backbone, to react as calmly as she had to the events of the morning. She had been shaken but dry-eyed at the news of her sister’s death. Now she wept over a few broken bells. He didn’t have a clue to what went on inside her. His chief was letting him play a lone hand with the woman, and he had to do it right.

  “Cleaning up will have to wait. I have a few more questions.”

  Her lips tightened. “I’ve already told you everything I know. Whoever led those men to my sister, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then why did they come after you?” He shot the question at her.

  She raked her fingers through deep red curls, clenching her hands for an instant as if pulling on her shoulder-length mop would clear her brain. “How would I know?

  You’re the professional. You tell me.”

  “Maybe we should go to my office in Billings to have this discussion.” It was a pretty safe bet that she didn’t want to do that.

  “I can’t do that.” Her voice went up. “I have to get to work.”

  “The library will exist without you for as long as necessary. But if you answer my questions here, it’ll go faster.”

  “I told you I don’t know anything that would help you.”

  “We don’t know ourselves what will help at this point,” he countered. “Humor me.”

  She shot him a look of active dislike, but then she shrugged, giving in. “What do you want to know? I’ve already told you that I haven’t seen Ruby since that day at the library.”

  He wasn’t sure he believed that, but he set it aside for the moment. “Had you been seeing a lot of her before that? Even before her case came up, I mean.”

  “No.” She hesitated for a moment. Sometimes people did that when they were trying to fabricate a lie, but he thought she just didn’t want to talk about it.

  “I hadn’t seen much of Ruby in quite a while.” Her voice was slow, reluctant. “I don’t know how much you know about our backgrounds—”

  She stopped, maybe waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

  “I know enough.” It was all there in the records, and he’d been Ruby’s contact.

  Her lips pressed together for an instant. “Our father was out of the picture. Our mother was an alcoholic and an addict. Our childhood was a nightmare. All I ever wanted was to get out—to make something of myself so I never had to live like that again. Ruby…well, Ruby didn’t agree.”

  “So you parted company, did you?” Truth to tell, he didn’t see much of his half brother, either. Sometimes siblings just didn’t have much to say to each other.

  “Not exactly. I mean, we didn’t have a fight or anything.” Her gaze slid away from his, as if there was more to it than that. “Ruby found my life boring, I guess. And I found hers…” she searched for a word “…dangerous.”

  “You knew she was involved with a guy who was Mob-connected?”

  “No, no.” She pushed that away with both hands. “Is that what this is about? Did they kill her because she testified?”

  “We don’t know that yet.”

  “But that’s what you think. What you were trying to protect her from by moving her here.”

  “That could be. So you’re telling me you were living in the same city with your sister but you didn’t know who she was seeing?”

  “I wasn’t living in the same city, not for most of that time. I went to work for the Baltimore County Library System after I got my degree. I only came back to Pittsburgh when that whole business about the trial came up. I thought Ruby might need me.”

  She was looking down at the shattered glass on the floor again, and her hands worked as if it caused her pain not to be able to clean it up.

  Baltimore. That was something to look into, at least. If Jade had been that far away, it seemed unlikely that she could have been involved in anything having to do with the Mob in Pittsburgh.

  They’d check on it. Just like they’d check on hundreds of other details. And in the meantime, the shooters were out there on the loose, maybe waiting for another crack at killing Jade.

  “Is that all?” She glanced up at him, looking like a kid longing to hear that an ordeal was over. Unfortunately he couldn’t believe that hers was. “Not entirely. We’d like to move you to a safer location for a time. If you’ll pack what you need—”

  “No. I’m not going anywhere.” That soft jaw managed to look amazingly stubborn. “This is my home.”

  “You’re not safe here. Let us take care of you.”

  Anger flared in her eyes. “The way you took care of my sister?”

  His fists clenched. “Those men could come back. Do you want to face them on your own?”

  Her face whitened, but she didn’t drop her gaze. They stared at each other, wary as strange cats, and he felt the force of her determination pushing against him. Footsteps thudded on the front porch, and the county sheriff came in, knocking snow off his boots.

  “There you are, McGraw. We’ve got some good news for you. Looks like you’re not going to have to worry about those two gunmen anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  And why was he talking in front of a witness? Overweight, overage and out of shape, the man was obviously too full of his news to be discreet.

  “I don’t know where they were for the past couple hours, but a few minutes ago they tried to run a roadblock we’d set up out on the highway.”

  “You’ve got them?” Maybe now they’d get some answers.

  “Well, not exactly.” The man’s pudgy face expressed disappointment. “Thing is, they tried to bust their way through the barrier, lost control of the vehicle, ended up wrapped around a utility pole. One’s dead, the other’s on his way to the hospital in critical condition.”

  And probably not able to talk, the way their luck was running. “You’ve got a guard on him?”

  “Of course.” The sheriff looked offended.

  “That means I’m safe,” Jade said, drawing his attention back to her. “There’s no reason why I have to go.”

  All his instincts screamed at the thought of leaving her here alone, no matter what had happened to the shooters.

  “You’d still be safer in a hotel in Billings.”

  Her jaw set. “I’m staying here.”

  “Well, shoot, we’ll look after Ms. Summers, Marshal. We think highly of her around here.” The sheriff beamed. “You federal boys don’t need to think we can’t take care of our own.”

  He’d argue, but he was on shaky ground. Jade could be right, and the threat to her could be over. The sheriff could be right, and he was capable of looking after her. Could be. But he doubted it.

  He looked at Jade and imagined her lying on a cold concrete floor with two bullet holes in her. His gut twisted. He nodded. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. It was all he could do.

  THREE

  The briefing seemed to be stagnating, and Micah shifted restlessly in his chair. They’d gone over and over the little they knew about Ruby’s murder, and it seemed to him they were no further.

  Phillips tapped a pen on the tabletop, the only sign of frustration he allowed himself. “Mac, what’s the scuttlebutt from Pittsburgh? Does the organized crime team there have anything?”

  Mac Sellers straightened at being appealed to. Years behind a desk had softened his belly and soured his disposition, but he’d learned how to work the complicated threads that bound law enforcement agencies together, and that could be invaluable.

  “Nothing that moves us forward. No indication that the Pittsburgh Mob was interested in sending any messages by tracking her down. Why would they? The guy she put away was a low-level soldier, easily replaced.”

  “What about him?” Phillips snapped. “He might be carrying a grudge.”

  “That’s more promising.” Mac seemed to like drawing out his moment of attention. “Joey Buffano, his name was. Seems Joey got himself a fancy lawyer, got his sentence reduced on
some technicality or other.”

  A low murmur went around the table. Nobody liked the idea of a perp getting out early because somebody had slipped up.

  “Anyway, they’re looking into Joey for us, but the immediate word was that he’s been doing an impression of a model citizen, working at his parents’ meat market and reporting to his parole officer on schedule.”

  Phillips made a complicated sound that expressed doubt at Joey’s turnaround and skepticism at his apparent alibi.

  “Keep after them. The two we’ve got on ice were low-level muscle. Maybe they were doing Joey a favor.”

  He looked around the table. “Anything else need following up on?”

  Micah didn’t particularly want to bring up this subject, but better it come from him than from someone else.

  “Yes. How did the shooters locate Jade Summers? And why did they bother coming after her?”

  “I don’t know why, but I can guess how.” Mac sounded pleased that he had something to contribute. “I was going over the report from Ruby Maxwell’s apartment. Inside her Bible they found a newspaper photo and article, announcing the appointment of Jade Summers as head of the White Rock Library.”

  “So they saw that when they tossed the apartment,”

  Phillips said. “Maybe weren’t sure they had the right twin, and went after the other one.”

  That meant he hadn’t led them to her door, at least.

  “That must be it,” he said. “There’s still the matter of how they found Ruby.”

  Mac shook his head. “We could look ’til we’re old and gray and never know that for sure, but I’m betting she was in touch with one of her old friends. We all know that’s usually what happens.”

  “We’ll keep following up on it, in any event.” Phillips sounded ready to be finished. “What are you working on right now, McGraw?”

  “I’m still checking out Jade Summers’s background.”

  Phillips closed the folder in front of him. “Have Mac help you with that. I want you to call your brother.”

  That jolted him to attention. “Why my brother?”

  “He’s the big expert on organized crime, isn’t he?

  That memo he sent about the Martino family—well, on the surface it seems unlikely there’s any connection, but he should be consulted. You call him.” Phillips smiled thinly. “Do you good to stay in touch with your kin. All right, people, let’s get moving on this.”

  Chairs scraped, fragments of conversation floated past his attention. He didn’t heed them. Call your brother. Okay, no reason not to give Jackson a call. It had been a while. Usually his information about his half brother was funneled through his mother. Jackson always maintained a good relationship with his stepmother. Back at his desk he checked through the information that had come through in the past hour, looked again at the file on Ruby, and finally faced the fact that he was putting off the inevitable. And that he was probably being unfair to his brother. Just because Jackson’s status with the Bureau was nearly legendary, it didn’t follow that he looked down on his little brother’s efforts. It just felt that way. Between his father’s reputation and his big brother’s, there was way too much to live up to in the McGraw family.

  He reached for the phone and called the Bureau’s Chicago field office.

  Special Agent McGraw was in. “Micah.” Jackson’s deep voice was crisp, as always when he was on duty, which was most of the time. “What’s with a Mob hit in the wilds of Montana?”

  “You know about that already.” He wasn’t surprised. Jackson kept himself informed about anything having to do with organized crime.

  “I know about Ruby Maxwell. I didn’t know you were involved, though.”

  “I’d settled her in Witness Protection. I was her contact.” He didn’t need to say more. Jackson would fill in the blanks.

  “Rough. I hear you caught the shooters already.”

  Not me, he wanted to say. A county sheriff and a handy utility pole caught them.

  “One’s dead, the other one’s not talking. The strange thing is that they immediately went after Ruby’s twin sister, Jade Summers, who has no Mob connection in what seems a blameless life.”

  Jackson grunted. “Nobody’s life is blameless. Does she know why they came after her?”

  “Not that she’s saying. We’re keeping an eye on her, obviously. Even weirder, the shooters didn’t seem to know for sure who they were after.”

  “It sounds like they weren’t the brightest bulbs in the pack. What do you want from me?”

  “There’s no obvious connection with the Martino family, but my chief figured you’d want to know.”

  There was silence on the line for a moment, but he could hear the scratch of Jackson’s pen. He had a quick, vivid image of Jackson in his fifth-floor office, looking out at the city that had been his home for most of his life—a life that he’d dedicated to eradicating the smear of Mob activity.

  “Okay,” Jackson said. “We’ll look into it on this end. Keep me posted, right?”

  “Right.” He waited, wondering if his brother would say anything personal, not sure he wanted him to.

  “Take care of yourself, kid.” Jackson’s voice was gruff.

  “Call your mother.”

  That brought a reluctant grin. “I do.”

  “Well, call more often. Stay in touch.” He clicked off. Micah hung up the receiver slowly, letting the smile fade from his face. Jackson hadn’t said anything about the fact that someone under Micah’s care had been killed. But it was a sure bet he’d been thinking it. Stop trying to live up to a legend, he reminded himself. You’ll never do it. Micah McGraw had told her virtually nothing about her sister’s death. Jade sat at the computer in the quiet of the county library, frowning at the screen. She wanted to look up details about the funeral service for Ruby, and she didn’t even know where to start.

  Would McGraw have told her more if their conversation hadn’t been interrupted by those two hoods? Somehow she didn’t think so. He was the epitome of a law enforcement professional. She’d been glad of that when he’d protected her during those terrifying moments she hadn’t known if each breath would be her last. But now that the fear had subsided, she found she resented everything about the man—his iron control, his snapped questions, his air of doubt at everything she’d said.

  And most of all, she resented the fact that he’d left her completely in the dark about her sister’s life and death. Where had Ruby been living during her time in Montana?

  What had she done? Had she made friends, enjoyed life, learned to laugh again? Or had she been living in fear?

  The fear would have been justified.

  She bit her lip. This was ridiculous. She was a librarian. She knew how to research. If the U.S. Marshal Service, in the person of Deputy Marshal McGraw, wouldn’t confide in her the details of her own sister’s death, she’d find out for herself.

  Fingers flying, she started combing through the records of Montana newspapers. Somewhere there had to be something. Knowing the Witness Protection Program’s passion for secrecy, they’d have clamped down on publicity, but they couldn’t cover every base. Someone would be planning a funeral for Ruby, no matter what name they’d insisted she use.

  Finally she found it. Ruby Maxwell. She leaned closer as if that would get her nearer to her sister. There was no article about a murder, no hint that Ruby’s death had been anything remarkable. Just a brief notice that funeral services would be held tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. at Christ Church, Brownsville, Montana. She stared at the listing, her throat tight. Then she clicked on a site that would give her directions. It would be a long drive. She’d have to get an early start.

  “Going somewhere?”

  The words sent her spinning in her chair. Micah McGraw stood behind her, so close that her knees brushed his pant legs when her chair swiveled. She hadn’t heard a thing to indicate that anyone was in the library. The man must move like a cat.

  “I beg your pardon?” She tried
to sound cool and collected, but her pulse skittered. If he knew she planned to attend her sister’s funeral, she didn’t doubt his reaction.

  “I couldn’t help but notice the Web site. You do realize that we need to know where you are at all…” His voice trailed off as he looked more closely at the directions on the screen. Then he switched his gaze to her, his face uncomfortably close. “Brownsville. You told me you didn’t know where your sister lived. Funny. I was actually on the verge of believing you.”

  She felt her cheeks warm. “I did not know where Ruby lived. I told you the truth.”

  He flicked a glance at the computer. “Then how did you find out about Brownsville?”

  “I’m a librarian. I know how to do research. You people may have kept any report of Ruby’s murder out of the papers, but you missed the funeral announcement.”

  “You had to know where to look.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath at his stubbornness and pushed her chair away from the desk. And away from him.

  “Go ahead, check for yourself. Page back through my search. You’ll see exactly how I got there. It took me over an hour to find the answer you could have given me in a minute if you weren’t so wedded to your secrecy.”

  He didn’t take her word for it. He leaned over the computer and hit the back arrow, flipping backward through the pages she’d searched on her way to finding out about Ruby’s funeral.

  Finally he stopped, apparently satisfied, eyeing her.

  “Maybe I am wedded to secrecy, as you say. But you of all people ought to know how important it is.”

  “Ruby is dead.” Her throat closed on the words, and she had to fight to say more. “It doesn’t matter now who knows where she was.”

  “Maybe not.” His tone softened. “I’m sorry. You could have asked me about the funeral.”

  “Would you have answered?”

  That gave him pause. “I don’t know.” It sounded honest. “If my chief said it was okay, I would have. You deserve to know that.”

  Some of her annoyance at him drained away.

  “Thank you.”