Unauthorized Return (Unauthorized Series Book 4)

by Ladew, Lisa

  “How did you manage that?”

  “I contacted a lawyer in California. I gave him power of attorney to pull money from my accounts and have it deposited in a new bank - one that had branches everywhere in the country. When I needed money, I drove to New Jersey or Maine and picked a different branch every time. I knew there was no way my dad could watch all of them. Besides, by this time I was using a fake ID that I felt confident he couldn’t crack.”

  “But he found you.”

  “I’m not sure if he did or not. I left New York because I had a feeling he was about to, and this time there would be no warning, no way to fight my way out. I started feeling too nervous to go home, like he had ordered my apartment rigged to explode or something.”

  “How long have you been in Westwood Harbor?”

  “I got in yesterday morning. I drove straight to the police department.”

  Aria shook her head. “That means it has to be a cop that rigged your car to blow up. If your father’s men had been following you from New York, they would have just killed you on the highway somewhere.”

  Coleton nodded, his back still turned, his attention focused on the food he was preparing in front of him.

  “How long were you at the police station before the car blew up?”

  “Maybe two hours.”

  “Plenty of time for someone to rig your car if the person already had the explosives.”

  “Yeah, but in broad daylight?” he asked.

  “It didn’t have to be hard. He could have slung a bag full of C4 under your hood as he was walking by.”

  Coleton turned, knife in hand, eyes burning. “Are there cameras in the parking lot?”

  “There are cameras on the building, but your car was out of their field of vision.”

  Coleton’s face fell and he turned back to the counter.

  “But it gives us a starting point. When I talk to Assistant Chief Foley I’ll ask if they’ve checked the cameras for people walking through the parking lot with bags or packages in their hands.”

  He nodded but she could tell by the slump of his shoulders he wasn’t very excited by that.

  Coleton threw a handful of food into a pot where it began simmering and a wonderful scent filled the kitchen. Aria’s mouth began to water. Within a few moments, he had two ham and cheese omelets on the table. Aria dug into hers eagerly, then closed her eyes and moaned in delight. “This is heavenly. As good as the lasagna.”

  “Compliments will get you fed all week long,” he said, taking a large bite of his own food.

  Aria huffed softly, planning to compliment him every chance she got. She ate silently, her entire focus on her melt-in-her-mouth omelet, so she was completely taken by surprise when he next spoke.

  “Your sister stole my car,” he said.

  She looked up at him, dumbfounded, her food forgotten. His eyes were trained on his omelet, but he was just picking at it. His expression was unreadable, but his mouth was tight and she thought she read shame in the set of his neck and torso.

  “Stole your car? What?”

  “Yes, she stole my car. She conned me. Tried to make me think she was interested in me, and then walked out of my apartment with my car keys. I never saw her again.”

  Aria’s mind couldn’t grasp the information. Ava wasn’t a car thief. Or a con woman. But then Aria never would have thought Ava was a husband-stealer either.

  Aria held up her hands. “Wait wait wait, tell me from the beginning.” She winced at the tone in her voice but she couldn’t help it. She had to know.

  Chapter 11

  Coleton gathered up his courage. He didn’t want to share this. But he knew how badly she wanted to know about her sister. He would tell her everything he could, even though it revealed some very stupid decisions on his part. And even though he was beginning to feel very fond of her, telling her about his experience with her sister might ruin any feelings she could have developed back. Still, she deserved to know.

  “It was a month or two ago. I - well - I hadn’t thought this was relevant, but now that I know she’s your sister I guess it is. Let me back up. I saw an ad in the newspaper for a musical that was supposed to be based on Westwood Harbor.”

  Aria’s eyes narrowed. “A play based on Westwood Harbor? That sounds suspicious already. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Westwood Harbor isn't famous the way New York or San Francisco are famous. Was it your dad’s men trying to flush you out?”

  Coleton grimaced. “Probably. I knew I shouldn’t go, but I couldn’t help myself. I was homesick I guess. In a way, I may have been tempting fate, honestly. I’ve always known my father would kill me eventually, and I guess I just got tired of waiting around for it to happen.”

  Coleton saw her mark that piece of information, and catalogue it in her brain to come back to later. But for now she just waited for him to continue.

  He sighed and pushed on. “So I went. It was a tiny theatre, but almost all the seats were filled. I was surprised at that. Ava was there, the only person in the very back row, swaying along with the music. I sat a few seats down from her, and tried to watch the play. When I realized it was actually just Dirty Dancing, changed slightly to pretend the setting was actually Westwood Harbor, I got up to leave, but Ava followed me. I was walking out of the exit and Ava came barreling after me, and actually ran into me. She fell to the ground with her hand over her nose, blood seeping through. The more I think about it, the more I think that was all part of the scam. She planned it. She had a blood pack palmed in her hand and popped it when she hit my back.”

  Aria shook her head, trying to imagine her sister doing something like that. She couldn’t. Ava had never scammed anyone in her entire life. She was about to tell Coleton that this Ava couldn’t possibly be her Ava when she remembered how Coleton had looked at her the first time he ever saw her. Looked at her with recognition in his eyes and called her by her sister’s name.

  Coleton went on. “I picked her up and brushed her off, worried sick about her. The blood was just pouring out between her fingers and she looked to be in incredible pain. She held up a wallet with her other hand and asked if it was mine. She said she had seen it on the ground when I walked out and she thought I lost it. I told her no and she said oh, then said she’d take it to the lost and found. She walked away, shoulders slumped, blood dripping, and I couldn’t just leave her. I ran after her and tried to take her to the hospital. She wouldn’t go. Said she didn’t have any insurance and couldn’t afford to see a doctor. She seemed very resistant to me helping her at all, but little by little she warmed up to it as I insisted. I took her to wash up and then I helped her turn in the wallet to lost and found. I wish to God I would have looked inside it. I bet it was completely empty. Something she bought in a thrift store or stole from some guy and didn’t even bother to stage,” he said bitterly, still not able to look Aria in the eye.

  "I never went back to the play, but I fell for Ava exactly the way she wanted me to. I took her out to lunch that day, and tried to pry into her life. She seemed slightly pathetic and needy. I hated feeling that way about her, but I think that's what she was going for. She told me a horrible story about her life. She said she was from Texas and her mother had divorced her father when she was eight years old. Her mother and her father had shared custody of her and her brother but her mother had stolen the two of them and taken off, moving to Florida and changing their names and identities. She said she had no way of contacting her father and by the time she was old enough, he didn't live in Texas anymore and she couldn't find him. She said that when she was sixteen she had gone to court to have herself declared emancipated from her mother and had began to travel all over the country looking for her father. The last word she heard about him was that he had moved to Westwood Harbor but she didn't have the money to head out there and look for him. That was why she was at the play. She said she was reaching out to him in the only way she could afford at that time."

  Aria shook her head and couldn't he
lp but butt in. "How old did she say she was?"

  "Twenty-three."

  "And you believed her?"

  "Sure did. She could've easily passed for twenty-three. How old is she?"

  "We are twenty-nine," Aria said, a twinge grabbing her around the heart and refusing to let go. She remembered twenty-seven years of birthdays celebrated together, having their own special language when they were preschoolers, growing up together and never, ever being apart until she married Jason. And then still seeing Ava almost every night. She could not reconcile this story, this con man story with Ava. Ava, her sweet sister who had always been there ... At least until she ran off with Aria's husband. Suddenly she knew that Coleton's story was going to leave her with no answers, just more questions. She clenched her fists at the thought of it and wished wildly for a paperclip. She stood and began randomly pulling drawers open, looking for anything she could bend and mutilate. She couldn't stand to sit still for one more second. Aria's eyes fell upon the lasagna noodles box in the garbage can and she pulled it out, then sat back down in her chair, ripping it into tiny little pieces that began to collect in a drift at her feet. She lifted her chin at Coleton, wanting him to go on, even though she hated his story like fire.

  As she looked up at Coleton, she saw something in his eyes, something she was unable to identify. He was staring at her with a strange look on his face. Was he surprised that she was twenty-nine? That Ava was twenty-nine? Was he feeling the same thing that she was, that maybe there was some way in the universe that this Ava wasn't her sister Ava? She stared at him intensely, willing him to finish the story, to say something that would make sense to her.

  He seemed to catch her desire and tried to go on. He looked down at his plate and pushed the words out of his mouth. "I asked her where she was staying and she said she had exhausted all of her money in the search for her father and was sleeping at the bus station. I didn't know what to do. She seemed so honest, so sincere. After she said that, I couldn't just tell her okay, see you later then, when I knew where she would end up. I tried to put her up in a hotel. She absolutely would not stand for it. I tried to give her money. She wouldn't take it. So finally I did the only other thing I could think to do. I invited her home with me."

  This information went through Aria like a spear. A blunt and rusty spear that tumbled through her body, tearing and ripping as it went. "You slept with her," she spit out before she could stop herself. She hoped desperately that Coleton saw nothing wrong with her accusation. She knew she had no right to be upset if Coleton had slept with Ava, but she also knew that meant there would never be anything between her and Coleton. The thought made her sick to her stomach and achy all over at the same time. It suddenly killed her in the same way her sister leaving with her husband had killed her. And she didn't know why.

  Coleton held up his hands and shook his head no. "I never slept with her, I swear."

  Aria clamped down on her tongue with her teeth, but she still couldn't keep herself from spitting out her next question. "But you would've, if the opportunity presented itself, wouldn't you have?"

  "No! I swear - well, I ..." Coleton's voice trailed off and Aria read guilt and shame in it. Anger kindled in her heart. She shot to her feet, the gun holster on her waist catching the table and flipping it as if capturing the desire straight out of Aria's soul and manifesting it into physical action. She wasn't sorry.

  Aria stomped out of the kitchen, straight to the front door, her hand on the knob as she searched down deep inside herself. There was nothing she wanted more than to take off, to abandon Coleton Savoy to his sister-fucking fate. But good sense and reason came back too quickly. She wouldn't abandon him, but she certainly wouldn't allow herself to consider him a decent human being for one more second.

  She dropped her hand from the doorknob with a grunt of disgust and turned around, heading into the bedroom and slamming the door. She looked out the one tiny window into the parking lot beyond and fumed, wondering what shred of decency she had ever seen in Coleton Savoy in the first place.

  Chapter 12

  Fiore Savoy ducked under what was supposed to be a killing blow and crawled on his hands and knees behind the big washer in the prison laundry. Behind him, sounds of an epic battle raged on. He squeezed his body tighter behind the piece of equipment and closed his eyes, praying for the guards to come in and break it up soon.

  He knew they were watching from the doorway, maybe placing bets, maybe waiting until whatever hit they had paid for was over with. He was too old for this shit. He had to get out of this hellhole. He'd been minding his own business - doing his hard, manual labor - women's work really - the kind of crap he thought he was done with when he turned fourteen and made his first kill for the family - but in prison it wasn't good enough to keep your head down and mind your own business. The guards still made you pay. You had to pick sides, and if you didn't pick the right side, you were the next one with a homemade baseball bat upside your head, or a plastic shank in your ribs.

  Finally he heard salvation. "Okay, break it up, break it up. You guys are done here. Johnson, take Sampson to the infirmary. Brigs, you take Halston to the hole." The guards had come in to stop the fight.

  Savoy backpedaled on his hands and knees and slowly stood up, looking around. Guard Foster's gaze settled on him and Foster laughed slowly, malice oozing from his pores. "Savoy, nice of you to come out of your itty-bitty rabbit hole. Whattsa matter? Did the big baddie scare you? Did he make you have to run and hide? Did he make you go wee-wee in your pants?"

  Savoy gritted his teeth and looked at the floor. Foster wouldn't live out the week. He would make sure of it. No one spoke to him like that and lived.

  Foster threw back his head and laughed, then left the laundry, leaving Savoy to his own thoughts.

  One of his lieutenants, Abbateli, rushed in, his hands up and reaching for Savoy. "Boss, did they get you?"

  Savoy pushed his hands away angrily. "I'm fine. No thanks to you. Where the fuck were you?"

  "Foster wouldn't let me in. The guards stood in the doorway and egged them on."

  "I figured. I got to get out of this stinking hole now. I don't think I can wait till next week."

  Abbatelli looked around for witnesses, fear on his face. "Boss, they'll hear you."

  Savoy sneered, about to say he didn't give a shit if anyone heard him or not, but then good sense prevailed. He did give a shit.

  They could keep him in this hole if they found out what he was up to. He did need to be careful if his plan were to succeed. In here, he didn't run anything. The guards were already being paid off by others, and seemed reluctant to take his money. The other prisoners had their own hierarchy and so far he had been unable to crack it. He was nothing in here. No one. That was absolutely unacceptable. He wasn't spending his golden years in this trap, this hellhole.

  He softened. "You're right Abbatelli - but it's begun - and next week, next Tuesday, we take them all out. We clean house and get out of the country. They'll be less excited to chase us if they don't have anyone to testify against us."

  Abbatelli peered closely at him. "Even your ah, Col-, ah, even your son?"

  Savoy spit on the ground and began to transfer sheets from one machine to another. "I have no son," he finally said, turning his face to his work.

  Chapter 13

  Coleton stood in the kitchen, surveying the turned-over table and the plates that clattered to the floor. He wasn't cleaning this up, no way. She had a temper, Aria did, and he wasn't surprised at all. Virtually all the women he had ever been attracted to did. If you wanted someone without a temper, you didn't go for the strong women. You went for the soft and sweet ones, the ones who said things like whatever you want or I don't know, what do you want to do?

  Plus she was a cop, and he'd never met a cop that didn't have a temper either.

  Coleton walked out into the living room and eyeballed the door. For the first time in a while, he wanted to bolt – to leave. He didn't want to be her
e anymore. She'd been impressing him yesterday, making him feel like she knew what she was doing, making him think that maybe he had a chance if he was with her, but now he'd lost that feeling. If only she hadn't flipped the table ...

  Coleton walked to the door and placed his hand on it, unaware that Aria had gone through the same mental process only a few minutes before. He tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn't budge. He unlocked it, and turned it, then stepped out onto the concrete slab in front of the tiny apartment. The sound of the baby crying again caught his ear and he looked towards the noise. A woman stood in front of the next door, her back to Coleton, relentlessly bouncing the pained baby on her shoulder, trying to soothe it. It was small, and looked pinched in the face, like it couldn't ever get quite get enough milk.

  Coleton looked out over the parking lot, away from the woman and the baby, and thought about leaving,. But where would he go? He was going to testify, no matter what, unless his father had killed him by then, so it just didn't make sense to take off. Coleton took a deep breath and stilled his own anger. If only she had let him explain. If only she hadn't flipped the table and taken off. He just couldn't understand a person who did something like that. But he could stay, and avoid her. There were three rooms in the place. If she were in the kitchen, he would be in the living room. If she were in the living room, he would head to the kitchen. It was only for another five days.

  Coleton heaved a sigh and stepped back through the doorway, closing the door in front of him. He crossed the room and dropped onto the couch, deciding to watch TV. With any luck, his brains would liquefy and leak out his ears.

  ***

  Aria paced the tiny bedroom, her fingers itching at her sides. It had to be close to ten o'clock at night. Dark had fallen an hour ago and she had only left the room once since her shameful retreat, sneaking out just to use the bathroom.