Leverage (The Mistaken Series)

by Nancy S Thompson

  I returned the nod. “Did you know it was your boss, Greg, who had him arrested?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Greg is more than just my boss. He’s a good friend. But yes, I know. Greg said Conner broke into Rush Hour, stole money from his desk.”

  “Do you believe him?” I asked.

  “I didn’t want to. Conner seemed like such a nice kid, but Greg showed me the video,” she said then shrugged. “There’s no denying it. And I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, really.”

  “Why is that? I thought you two were friends. Maybe even more than friends at first?”

  She shook her head. “Hardly. He might’ve wanted more, but…he’s not really my type. Too young and eager.”

  “I see. He said you hung out a lot though.”

  “We did. At first.” She dropped her hands to her waist and her gaze to the floor. “Then he started gambling, doing drugs, drinking.” She peeked up at me. “He owes a lot of money.”

  “Well, that’s all very…interesting, but…Conner tells a very different story.”

  I took a casual step closer in the dark, narrow hall. Nova wrapped one arm around herself in a loose hug and placed her other hand on the doorknob.

  “Conner says Greg set him up, that he purposely recruited him. You wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you?” Another slow step closer. “I mean, you introduced him to your boss, got him that job.” Another step, so close she had to crane her neck to look up at me. “You took him to those parties where he drank. Isn’t that right, Nova?”

  She looked scared at first, but then her wide eyes narrowed and she pulled the door wide as she raised her voice louder than was necessary. “You’re crazy, and I want you to leave, right now,” she urged, then shouted, “Right now!” when I didn’t move fast enough.

  I shrugged, stopping before her on my way out the door. “I wonder if you know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” I said as I looked her straight in the eye.

  Her chin quivered, and she stomped her foot and dipped her gaze to the floor. I snickered and walked out the door and down the hall. That’s when Nova found her courage. She took a step through her doorway and raised her fist at me as I glanced over my shoulder.

  “That little prick’s a loser!” she screamed. “He’s just lucky I haven’t cried rape!”

  I spun around and stormed back down the hall. Nova chirped an alarmed squeal and ducked back inside her apartment, slamming the door in my face.

  I pounded my fist once against the flimsy wood. “You’re about to have a world of hurt rain down on you, little girl,” I seethed, referring to the FBI, but realizing how it might sound to a stranger listening in. “I suggest you find yourself counsel. You’re going to need it.”

  “Fuck you!” she swore through the door.

  With my jaw clamped tight and ticking, I turned away and headed back down the hall, mumbling, “Yeah, we’ll see who’s fucked in few hours.”

  ***

  The drive back down University Avenue took me past Rush Hour. It pulled at me like a magnet, and I couldn’t resist checking this prick, Greg, out. I parked close by and took a seat at one of the tables in the center. As a waiter closed in on me, another young man redirected him then approached me with a plastic covered menu.

  I waved it away. “Just some tea, please. Do you have Earl Grey?” I asked, and he nodded once. “With a spot of milk then, thank you.”

  He nodded again and sauntered away. I pulled out my phone and pretended to read as I scoped out the place, taking note of the employees as they served the young crowd of students tapping away on their laptops. When my server returned with my tea, I put my phone down and looked up at him. He appeared a bit older than most of the other student-employees.

  “Thank you,” I offered with a smile. “Hey, do you know if that young chap with the guitar will be playing tonight? I rather enjoyed his show. Thought I might catch it again.”

  The man smiled, and though polite, he exuded a certain cocky assurance that reminded me of someone. It was a strange sense of déjà vu. Then the guy spoke, and the feeling faded.

  “‘E was rather good, was ‘e noh’?” he said in an all too familiar English accent—classic North London. Pure Tottenham cockney. I thought, at first, he was trying to hide it by speaking carefully, but it was almost too obvious the way he dropped his Hs and Ts, as if he was doing it on purpose, precisely for my benefit.

  Bloody fucking hell.

  Greg.

  “And I rather liked him, as well,” he continued, his accent slipping, “until the git nicked me. And that was after I gave the wanker a job. Two jobs, in fact. And loaned him money. A lot of it, mind you. The bloody tosser, took advantage of my kindness then spit in my face. Got himself sacked and thrown in jail for the effort.”

  Listening to him, I wanted nothing more than to punch the arrogant little prick in the face, thinking he could toy with me. But I didn’t. I just sat back with the most perplexed look I could fashion.

  “You were his boss then?” I asked, and he nodded once. “Hm. Funny, that.”

  He pulled his chin in tight and hiked one hand on his hip. “How so, eh?”

  I shrugged. “That you’d be so…generous with the boy—I’m sorry—I mean, your employee,” I answered, fingering quotes around the last word.

  His lips pulled back in a sneer at the implication. “It was simply gratitude, I assure you, for bringing in new customers,” he explained, falling completely back into a more comfortable speech pattern, “But your little friend couldn’t handle the spoils, as it were. He was weak, started drinking,” he spat then smiled. “Must be a family thing,” he said and turned to walk away, but he stopped and added over his shoulder. “I heard his stepfather was a drunk, too. Hm.” He chuckled at his own joke and walked toward the back. “Please, come back later,” he shouted my way. “We have a new act. And not nearly as depressing as that kid.”

  He saluted halfheartedly and spun around then disappeared into the kitchen.

  CHAPTER 29

  Tyler

  Angry I’d let myself get so riled by that son of a bitch, I stormed out of Rush Hour and started walking back to my truck. A glance at my watch told me I’d wasted nearly an hour between him and the girl. I needed to get downtown to the jail, talk to Conner’s lawyer, and post bail. But just then, my mobile chirped. UNKNOWN CALLER it said, listing a Seattle number.

  “Tyler Karras,” I answered.

  “Mr. Karras, this is Ezra Toller.”

  Relief washed over me. Finally. “Yes, Mr. Toller—”

  “Ezra, please,” he interrupted.

  “Ezra, thank you. I appreciate you taking on our case. And please, call me Ty.”

  “Well, Ty, Aaron filled me in on your stepson’s situation. I’m down at the courthouse now.”

  “That’s great. I’m still in North Seattle,” I said as I jumped into my truck, “but I should be down there in ten minutes or so. Has Conner’s hearing been set?”

  “It was, but the arraignment’s been postponed ‘til later this afternoon. I thought maybe you’d heard already and were at the hospital.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Excuse me?”

  “Seems there was an incident at the jail. Conner’s been hurt. He’s at Harborview.”

  “Yeah, he told me he’d gotten into it with someone, but it didn’t sound all that serious. He said he’d already been treated.”

  There was a pause followed by an uncomfortable throat-clearing.

  “Uh…well…yes, there was a minor scuffle earlier in holding, but there was another incident about a half hour ago, just before I arrived. Conner’s okay, but he was roughed up a little from what I heard and needed treatment. I’m sorry.”

  My heart felt lodged so high in my throat, I could barely breathe. I’d told that kid not to worry, that I’d get him out before anything else could happen. But I’d failed. And he was likely being targeted because of
me, because of my past sins. Fuck!

  “Ty, you all right?” Toller called out. “Mr. Karras? You there?”

  “Um…yeah, I’m…uh…I’m sorry, I…”

  “Tyler, listen, I’ll take care of everything down here. You just get yourself on up to the hospital, all right? Conner’s under guard, but I’ll make sure you can get in to see him.”

  “What about his hearing?”

  “It’s been rescheduled for four-thirty. I’m going to meet with the Prosecuting Attorney now, brief him on the situation, try to get bail waived and Conner released into Aaron’s custody.”

  “All right, Ezra. Thank you. I’ll see you at the courthouse then?”

  “You’re welcome, and yes, I’ll see you there,” he said and signed off.

  I sped the last few miles through Capitol Hill down to the hospital. I parked my truck in the garage and raced toward the emergency room. Just before I gained the doors, my phone chirped again. It was Moody this time.

  “Aaron,” I greeted briefly. “Did you hear? Conner’s been hurt…again. He’s at Harborview. I was just about to go in and see him.”

  “Yeah, man, I heard. I’m real sorry. No fuckin’ around anymore, Ty, waiting for a worst-case scenario. You gotta come in. Right now. All of ya. I’ve got a team ready to leave for your pad. You talk to Hannah yet?”

  “No, not yet. I’ll call her in a minute, as soon as I get in to see Conner. They’ll want to speak, I’m sure. Just get your people over there, Aaron, as soon as bloody possible. I’ll make sure she’s ready to leave.”

  “Okay, buddy. We gotta lot to talk about. You won’t believe what I just discovered, but not over the phone. Too risky now. I’ll call back as soon as I get word the girls are in custody and outta the house, maybe forty-five minutes or so. Then I’ll meet you and Toller at the courthouse. We’ll get Conner out and all you guys to safety. I promise.”

  Safety. That word had a hollow ring to it. I doubted Conner would accept any promise of safety from me ever again.

  “All right, Aaron. I’ll see you later.”

  I pocketed my phone and entered the emergency room where I spoke to an attendant at the front desk. He consulted a supervisor and had security usher me back to a separate room apart from the rest of the ward. A King County Deputy Sheriff stood guard outside the door. He checked my ID and patted me down then stood aside for me to enter, but he left the door open. The room was small, and a curtain was partially drawn along a ceiling-mounted track, but I could see Conner’s feet resting at the foot of the hospital bed. I skirted around until I could see him entirely and immediately noticed his left wrist shackled to the guard rail. I looked up at his face and swallowed hard.

  Both of his eyes were blackened, and a few stitches ran across the bridge of his crooked nose and along the line of his chin. His left cheek was bruised and slightly swollen, and his bottom lip was sutured with two delicate threads tied in the tiniest of knots. His right arm was sheathed in a cast and lay in a sling against his chest. But it was the look in his eyes as he tracked me through the room that disturbed me the most. Dark and hooded, they appeared more than just in pain, more than frightened, more than simply angry.

  They looked defeated. Broken. And I cried inside knowing I was responsible.

  “Hey, bud,” I whispered as I approached his bedside. I closed my eyes for an instant then dropped my chin to my chest. “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what more to say. He was there because of me, yet he didn’t even know it. But he did know I’d let him down. My promise had been empty. Worthless. “Um…my friend, Aaron, the guy from the FBI? He put me in touch with a lawyer and he’s working right now to get you released. Your hearing’s been rescheduled for later.” I pressed my lips together, waiting for him to reply, but he just stared at me with that haunted look in his eyes. “The, uh, nurse or…whatever, he confirmed you don’t have a concussion and said you’d be released soon.” I ran my gaze to his feet and back up to his face. “How are you? I mean…how do you feel?”

  He snickered. “How do you think?” he replied in a worn, raspy voice.

  I winced. “Well…what happened exactly? Did this guy, the one who jumped you…did he…you know… I mean—”

  “I know what you mean,” he answered stiffly and left it at that.

  I didn’t know how to react to that, what to say, or even where to look. I was uncomfortable looking into his eyes. “Conner…” I began.

  He shook his head. “Just… I don’t wanna talk about it,” he murmured, turning his face away as tears rolled down his puffy, discolored cheeks.

  “I understand. But Conner…I will get you home, where you’ll be safe. I sw—”

  He spun his head back around. “Don’t!” he sneered with his teeth clenched together. “You don’t belong here. You’re not my father.”

  I blew out a long breath and nodded again. Seemed all I could do. “I know. I don’t pretend to be.”

  “Then why are you here, instead of him? Always instead of him.”

  I shrugged one shoulder, unsure how to answer. “Conner, being a parent doesn’t always mean they know what to do or what’s right. My own screwed up quite royally when I was a lad, more than a few times. My pops was always causing a row. My mum even left us once, my pops and I, just before my brother, Nick, came along. Things got better after that, but they were never quite the same. It’s not always easy being a family.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  “Hey,” I said and put a hand to his shoulder, “I’m going to call your mum, all right?”

  He looked up at me in a panic and shook his head.

  “It’s okay, bud. I won’t tell her everything, just what she needs to know for now. She’s your mother,” I said by way of explanation.

  Conner relaxed back into the bed. I fished my phone out one more time and dialed. I’m not even sure it rang once before Hannah picked up.

  “Tyler!” she bellowed. “Where are you? You never answered my texts. You just took off and left me this stupid note!”

  “I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…I needed to take care of something…for Conner…and I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “For Conner? Why? Is something wrong? Where are you?”

  “Love, I’m afraid he’s gotten into a bit of hot water,” I started then moved along quickly as she gasped. “Don’t worry, he’s okay…or…he will be anyway.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “Means he was arrested and got a little…banged up in jail, that’s all” I replied then hustled to calm her down. “But they brought him to Harborview. I’m here with him now. They’ve patched him up and he’s going to be fine, okay? I just thought he’d like to talk to you. Let me put him on.” I handed the phone to Conner. “Be easy, okay?” I requested in a whisper. “She’s crying.”

  He agreed with a nod.

  They chatted calmly after Hannah’s initial fears were eased. With a false bravado, Conner explained it all away as a misunderstanding that would be easily cleared up in court later in the day. He asked his mum to brief Katy, then, with tears in his eyes, told her he loved her. When he was done, he put me back on the line. I raised a finger at him and silently excused myself from the room. Hannah was still sniffly from crying, but sounded more composed. Unfortunately, I was about to change that.

  “See, I told you. He’s fine,” I cooed then paused and took a deep breath. “Hannah, love, are you at home?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “And Katy, too?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  I sighed. “You better sit down. I have some difficult news.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Hannah

  I dropped the phone and sank to the floor in a tremulous heap of tears. I looked around at the home I’d made and kept over the last five years. It was gone. All of it. I’d have to leave it all behind. The Russians were back. Ty was sure of it, and so was Aaron. The FBI had a team on the
way, ready to sweep us into protective custody. I was supposed to pack only what was absolutely necessary and be prepared to leave in thirty minutes.

  Thirty minutes! God, this can’t be happening! Not again!

  My vision blurred and my breathing hitched. I tried to gulp in air, but I started to hyperventilate instead. Then, from deep within, a scream erupted. I slammed my fists against the carpeted floor and howled in frustration.

  “No, no, noooooo!” I wailed. “You can’t do this! Not again! Please, please…” My cries tapered off to moans. “Oh God, no, no…”

  With my head tipped back and my eyes shut tight, I hugged my bulging belly and rocked back and forth on my knees, until I felt fingers brush along my arms. I pulled back with a squeal and tried to clear my vision. Katy was kneeling on the floor next to me, her face a mask of concern.

  “Hannah, my God, what’s wrong?” she asked. “Is it the baby? Are you in labor?”

  I pushed at her shoulders and fell back on my butt, scampering away backwards on my hands and feet. “You! You knew, didn’t you? All this time, you’ve been in on it, haven’t you? Haven’t you?”

  I turned over and tried to crawl away, but Katy scooted across the floor and tugged at my waist.

  “Hannah, please, you need to calm down.”

  I swung around and slapped her hands away. “Don’t you dare touch me!” I ordered and looked up to see my ever-vigilant next-door neighbor rushing through the front door. “Roman, please, get her away from me.”

  He ran over and pulled Katy to her feet, brushing her aside and standing between us.

  “Hannah, what is wrong?” he asked, worry scrunching his brow into a score of creases.

  I pointed at Katy. “She’s involved, I know it.”

  “Involved with what?” Katy asked as she looked back and forth between me and Roman. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

  “With Conner’s boss, Greg,” I explained. “I know you’re working with him. You tell me the truth.”