Murder in the River City

by Allison Brennan

  Her doorbell rang and she dropped the phone. She was so not cut out to be a spy. She retrieved the phone, put it on its charger, and went downstairs.

  “Hi, Shauna, it’s Melanie from across the street. I was hoping you had a cup of milk for a recipe?”

  She opened the door and said, “Come in,” in a monotone. She closed the door and locked it. “He’s crazy.”

  “Are you okay?” Melanie asked.

  She motioned for Melanie to follow her upstairs, then pointed to the dress she had hung on the back of her closet door.

  “Oh. Wow.”

  Shauna stared at the emerald green ball gown. Strapless. Fitted bodice with exquisite beading. The skirt flowed with raindrops of beads. When it moved, they shimmered slightly. He’d also sent Cinderella shoes—clear and light, they almost looked invisible.

  “I made a mistake. I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You’re shaking. I’ll call Agent Hooper. We’ll figure out something.”

  She shook her head. “No, no, I’m okay. Really. Nerves. Mack deserves justice, and I want Austin in jail if he had anything to do with it. Let’s just get this over with. Wait.” She went downstairs and wasn’t surprised when Melanie followed her. She probably thought she was going to run away.

  Instead, she went to her dining room and rummaged through a cabinet until she found an unopened bottle of Brennan’s Irish Whiskey. She poured a double shot and downed it. It burned, but the taste reminded her of family and the alcohol calmed her nerves.

  “Okay,” she said. “Do you want one?”

  “I’m working,” Melanie smiled. “But I’ll take a rain check.”

  “You got it. Besides, I want to know everything about what you do and how it feels to carry a gun all the time and interrogate bad guys.”

  “You want to make a career change?”

  “Oh, no,” she said, “I’m just curious. Believe me, after tonight, I’m done with playing cops and robbers.”

  Shauna was very happy she had someone to keep her company while she put on makeup and did her hair. Because of her unruly mess of curls, she took the time to pin sections up, off her neck, which had the added benefit of keeping her cool. She found herself talking too much, but Melanie had a great laugh and was smart to boot. She also loved Shauna’s house and saw the potential, which made her tops in Shauna’s book.

  “We need to figure out the best place to put the listening device. It’s not large, but if we put it too close to your skin, your perspiration may interfere with the transmission.”

  “How small?” she asked.

  Melanie took a box out of her purse. She removed a round object smaller than a cell phone battery.

  “That records?”

  “No, it’s just a transmitter. It has a battery life of up to eight hours and transmits to a secure channel that ASAC Hooper will be monitoring and recording. We can hear you; you can’t hear us.”

  “Okay, I get it. I have an idea.” Shauna went to her jewelry box and retrieved a green and gold Celtic knot cloisonné hair comb. “This was my mother’s. She always wore combs like this—she had the same curls I do.”

  “Perfect—there are two small hooks. If you have a couple bobby pins, I can secure it between your hair and the comb.”

  Shauna let Melanie attach the piece. “How will I know it’s working?”

  “We turn it on from our end. I’ll test it before I go.” She looked at her watch. “I should be leaving in fifteen minutes. I’d rather Davis didn’t see me here.”

  “Can you just zip up my dress?”

  Melanie helped her into the dress. “I can’t believe he bought something that fits you so perfectly, without you even trying it on. You’re stunning.”

  Shauna didn’t like that Austin knew her size and build so well. “Let’s test the transmitter-thing,” she said.

  Melanie went through the steps, gave her the thumbs up, then packed up the equipment. “You’re going to do great,” she said.

  A sound downstairs made Shauna jump.

  “Stay here,” Melanie said.

  Shauna nodded. Melanie went downstairs, hand on the butt of her gun. A minute later, she heard voices, then Melanie came back upstairs. She was angry.

  “Your boyfriend broke into your house,” she said.

  Sam stepped into her bedroom and stared at Shauna. “Wow.”

  Melanie said, “You were ordered to stay clear.”

  “I snuck in through the back. I just want five minutes.”

  Melanie looked at her watch. “We need to be out of here in four. I’ll be downstairs, Shauna.”

  “I had to see you,” Sam said after Melanie walked out. He took her hands and kissed her lightly. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Careful what you say. They might be listening.” Shauna pointed to her comb.

  “The Feds get all the fun toys.”

  “I’m glad you came by. It’s been a strange day.”

  He kissed her again. “Did you say anything to Mike about us?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. But he knew something was up, and he kept asking questions and I had to say something. He called it weird and said he didn’t want any details. But he wasn’t upset or anything. At least he thinks I was nervous because of us, not because of all these lies I’m now party to.”

  Sam laughed. “Now it all makes sense.”

  “What?”

  “After you left the bar, he came up to me and said you were now my responsibility and if I screwed up, he’d send Brian to hunt me down.”

  “Mike’s the pacifist. Brian has always been the enforcer.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not your responsibility. I’m my own responsibility. I’m almost twenty-eight now, hardly a little kid getting into trouble and needing my big brothers—or my boyfriend—to bail me out.”

  “Anything you want, Shauna.” He kissed her, then held her chin with his hand. “I’m proud of you. It takes courage to do this, and you have it in spades.”

  From downstairs, Melanie called up, “Now, Sam.”

  “See you soon,” he said. Then he kissed her a last time and whispered, “I love you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  John Black walked into the FBI communications room on the fourth floor of the Hyatt, the lowest level that had guest suites. Two computers, a printer, and a variety of other equipment was set up around the room. There were only three people working in the room—Hooper, Melanie Hale, and Tim Abbott who was sitting at the main computer.

  “We’re set,” Abbott said. “Audio in the restaurant. Video is stationary at the door, we can’t see the table—they have the small room in the back—but it gives us a good view of who comes and goes. I also tapped into the outside security feed to monitor the street.”

  “Where are they?” John asked.

  “Mulvaney’s. Which is smart, because it’s not a place we can stake out easily,” Abbott said. “But Dean knows the owner and we have a transmitter under the table.”

  “Has Shauna arrived?”

  “Not yet. He picked her up at five-thirty, but she wasn’t ready. They didn’t leave until quarter to six.”

  Melanie frowned. “She was tense, but seemed calmer before I left at five. And she was ready.”

  “And Butler?” Hooper asked.

  “Davis set him up with one of the partners, Amelia Shepherd, at the last minute,” Melanie said. “That makes me a bit nervous.”

  Hooper shook his head. “No, that makes sense for Davis. The whole dinner is people he trusts. He’s making sure Butler is in for real, that he’s one of them.”

  “Detective Garcia came by the house before I left,” Melanie said. “He makes me nervous, too.”

  “He’s good,” John said. “He knows what’s at stake.”

  “Too many things can go wrong,” Melanie said.

  Hooper said to Abbott, “Everything’s set on Butler’s hotel deal, right?”

  “Yes. Davis has already been inspecting the funding sources. But he�
�s gone a step further—he’s making specific moves to make the investors nervous. If they were legitimate, they’d walk away with the information he’s getting to them. But I can’t even trace it to Davis, not personally.”

  Hooper shook his head, but he was smiling. “That’s one of his key steps. He gets shady businessmen under his financial thumb so he owns them. If anything happens to the law firm, all assets are frozen. Every one of his clients will be stuck until the courts release assets. That keeps them in line, prevents them from turning state’s evidence because they’ll be stabbing themselves in the back. I can work with that.” He started typing rapidly on his laptop.

  “Davis and Shauna just walked in,” Abbott said. He handed Dean a set of headphones.

  John picked up an extra set and listened to the dinner conversation. At first, it was difficult to pick up the threads, as the microphone caught everything, but eventually he was able to discern the group. There were eight people total, four men and four women, and Shauna’s lilt was obvious. Conversation ranged from the charity to the economy to politics to local business, with a healthy amount of time spent interrogating Jason about his time in prison. It seemed Davis and his cohorts wanted to make sure Jason was doing exactly what he said he was with the hotel, and it was also obvious Davis wanted to be part of the project.

  Davis said, “Shauna tells me you asked her to design the renovations. There’s no one more capable.”

  “I agree,” Jason said. “She hasn’t agreed yet.”

  “We still have to discuss all our options,” Davis said.

  John frowned. What game was Davis playing?

  Amelia Shepherd said, “You two were engaged when Jason went to prison, weren’t you?”

  “That’s old news,” Shauna said.

  “But juicy. What happened?”

  “It’s really none of your business,” Shauna said.

  John could definitely picture Shauna’s irritation. He glanced around, looking for Sam. He was surprised he hadn’t arrived yet.

  Melanie whispered, “Why is she being belligerent?”

  Hooper said, “I told her to be herself. I think she is.” He motioned to John. “Where’s Garcia? He’s not showing himself, is he?”

  “He’s a professional,” John said.

  “Love can make even the smartest men act stupid.”

  Jason whispered something the mic didn’t catch, and then Austin said, “Jason, as you know, putting together the financing for a project this important and substantive takes a lot of time and expertise. And I’m sure with your parole, you’re having a hard time putting together the funds. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “I’m getting it done,” Jason said. “I still have my own resources.”

  “Dominick and Kurt here have the resources and contacts to make this happen, provided that Coresco & Hunt manages all legal work. We’re in this together, share in the risk and the reward.”

  “I have the financing,” Jason reiterated.

  “Are you sure?” Davis said.

  “It’ll be here Monday morning,” Jason said.

  “Then why did you seek out my counsel?”

  “I need legal tax shelters and an airtight deal with the hotel. I was hoping your firm could help broker the deal. But I don’t need financing.”

  “Well, I’ll need to think about it,” Davis said. “I don’t work on many projects that I don’t have a financial stake in. Too much work, too little time.”

  “Austin,” Shauna said, “Jason’s a friend. I think you should just help him.”

  Silence descended around the table, and John wasn’t sure what had just happened. The feds in the hotel room were waiting for someone to talk.

  “Here’s what I can do,” Davis said, “because Shauna obviously still considers you a friend.” There was something odd about Davis’s tone, John thought, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “I’ll do some research tomorrow,” Davis continued, “and come up with a plan that’s mutually beneficial. If you can put the financing together, I’ll set up the legal agreement. If you can’t, I want part of it.”

  “Thank you, Austin. I appreciate it,” Jason said.

  “Something strange just happened,” Abbott said.

  Hooper glanced at John. “I agree. But what? She didn’t say anything she shouldn’t have right?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t what she said, but something else happened.”

  Hooper said, “I couldn’t get a wiretap—too great a potential to gather confidential information. Was the pause long enough for a cell transmission? A text?”

  Abbott was scrolling through his computer. “I can’t pinpoint specific cell activity.”

  John glanced at a message on his phone. “Gleason just clocked in. He’s working the bar in the event. And one of our guys saw Pete Coresco drive into the parking garage. He didn’t enter the main floor. We think he has a room.”

  “There’s no room in his name—the law firm has one of the penthouse suites reserved,” Abbott said.

  “When do you want me to take Gleason into custody?” John said.

  “As soon as Shauna and Jason are in the hotel, we take Gleason,” Hooper said. “Melanie, find out if Coresco is in the penthouse suite. Get someone from our team in the bar to keep tabs on him, but from a distance. I don’t want him knowing we’re watching.”

  Abbott said, “Okay, they’re leaving the restaurant.”

  Sam was calling John. He answered. “Where are you?”

  “I’m tailing the limo. I have a funny feeling.”

  “Dammit, Garcia! They know you.”

  “I’m good.”

  “You promised you’d stay out of it.”

  “I told you. They aren’t going to see me. I’m tracking Shauna’s phone.”

  Hooper grabbed the phone from John. “Garcia, if you blow this, I’ll have your badge.”

  “Hooper, if anything happens to Shauna, you can have it.”

  #

  Earlier in the day, Manny had set up the GPS tracking system in Sam’s personal car. He was three blocks from Shauna, but the signal was clear and strong. He’d had a weird feeling all day, ever since he found out about this dinner tonight before the event. He wasn’t going to wait for Davis to bring Shauna to the hotel—he was going to make sure they went straight to the hotel.

  So far, they were heading toward the Hyatt. Sam alerted Manny that they were on their way.

  He trailed behind, keeping two to three blocks back on L Street as they traveled west. He tensed when the limo passed 11th Street—they should have turned before 11th for valet parking, or on 11th if they were going to park themselves.

  But the GPS said Shauna was still traveling west on L Street.

  He called John. “Davis isn’t going to the hotel. They just passed 4th Street.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The light at 9th. Okay, I’m going now. They’re still moving west.”

  “Hold on.”

  Sam continued down L Street. Davis’s limo made the last turn before crossing the Sacramento River—he was heading into Old Sac.

  Dooley’s was closed—he’d closed earlier, after the funeral and wake—but he might still be there. Why would Austin Davis be taking Shauna to Dooley’s? Did she ask him to? Sam didn’t think she would deviate from the plan.

  John got back on the phone. “We can’t get a read on her transmitter,” he said. “Melanie thinks she’s out of range.”

  “They’re in Old Sac. I’m going to park and walk to Dooley’s, that’s where I think they’re headed.”

  “Sam, wait for back-up. Hooper and I are on our way.”

  “Where’s Jason?”

  “He’s not here, either, and his transmitter is out of range as well.”

  “Unless Austin found out they were wired and is blocking them.”

  Sam hung up and parked illegally. Old Sac on the weekends was always crowded. Dooley’s would have been too, if not for Mack’s funeral.

 
; He spotted the limo, but couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. Then the door opened.

  Shauna, in the long, glamorous green gown, stepped out first. Her face was stoic, but her posture was rigid.

  Sam pushed up against the brick wall across the street, hoping he was out of sight. But Shauna wasn’t looking anywhere but at Dooley’s.

  Austin Davis stepped out behind her and took her arm. She shook him off, then he grabbed it. Sam resisted the urge to intervene. He didn’t know where Jason and Amelia Shepherd were, or why Davis had brought Shauna here. The lights were off in Dooley’s and a sign that Sam couldn’t read from this distance, but he knew it explained they were closed for a family emergency.

  The limo pulled away from the curb and Davis and Shauna walked around to the back of Dooley’s. A key pad would let them in through the security system. Wouldn’t Shauna alert someone? Maybe set the alarm off?

  He watched the limo slowly drive off. She wouldn’t do anything if Jason Butler was in jeopardy.

  Austin Davis had played them all, and now Shauna was trapped, alone, with that bastard.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I want that baseball,” Austin said. “And then all will be right.”

  Shauna disarmed the security system in the back room. She considered setting off the alarm, but Austin said he’d have that bitch Amelia Shepherd kill Jason if she did anything to alert the police.

  She needed to buy the time. Sam would know something was wrong when they didn’t show up at the Hyatt. He’d find her. She had to believe that. Maybe he was here now. She glanced right and left, but didn’t see anyone in the alley.

  Austin leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I disabled the transmitters you and Mr. Butler were wearing. No one knows where we are, and no one knows what we’re talking about.” He poked her back with the gun he’d shown her in the limo. “By the time your cop finds you and Butler, you’ll be dead and I’ll be in a country far, far away.”

  She opened the door and he pushed her inside, then closed and locked it. He pushed her through the storeroom and into the main bar.

  Dooley’s was empty. She wasn’t used to it being so dark and quiet at nine in the evening. Only the security lighting above the bar and front door were on, casting round shadows throughout the large room.