by DiAnn Mills
Her insides tossed. Believing him was an impossibility. No future in it. “Do you feel different?”
He sighed and traced the rim of his coffee cup, an old habit. “It’s easier to give up the anger and the entitlement cravings. Every day is a new one, and it’s usually another vice for me to put away, overcome. Lots of guilt. Even more regret. Sometimes my thinking reverts to the old Morton, but not to the point of before. I call those poison thoughts.”
Those in-between times were what bothered Laurel. “I’m not a believer, and I’m not totally convinced you are either.”
He smiled. “You’re right. No reason to believe me. Got to see it for yourself. I admire your tenacity, Laurel.”
She glanced away, looking for an excuse to leave, but every conversation brought her closer to the needed evidence.
“Laurel, are you having a hard time finding my angle?”
“Mildly put.”
“Quit looking. It’s a situation between me and the Lord. Right now we need to find the proof before the fund-raiser.” He sobered.
“What did Cayden mean by ‘explosion’?”
“I hope he meant how the scam would affect the FBI.” He waved at the reporter snapping photos. “Four hundred hand-selected guests, known for their generosity to causes like this. They’ll be tossing plastic like beads at Mardi Gras. And that doesn’t include kitchen staff and servers. If he means a real explosion, the body count would be horrendous.”
She swallowed hard. “You’ll probe him about it?”
“For sure.” He shook his head. “If he’s planning to bomb the event, then the fund-raiser has to be cancelled. But I really think Cayden is in this for the money. No reason to cause mass chaos or an international manhunt.”
She stared at him, wishing for telepathic abilities. “We have to find out. Isn’t Cayden coming by your place tomorrow?”
“It’s on the calendar. Daniel will be there, but Cayden won’t like it. Might bring his own bodyguard. Did you receive the list of the fund-raiser guests?”
“Yes. Thanks. Surprised Cayden handed it over.”
“I needed confirmation of the potential income. What did you make of it?”
“Some of the names are impressive. I forwarded it on to SSA Preston.”
“So did I.” He summoned the server for the check. “Laurel, there’ve been bad times between us. All my fault. The old Morton Wilmington would have gotten even, and you know it. And he’d have covered his tracks. I don’t want to lose my freedom, but my biggest reason for helping the FBI was to prove my credibility to you and fulfill my vow to God.”
“What?” She clenched her fist in her lap. “I don’t understand.”
“I want you to find God and hold on as tightly as you can.”
“I have no reason to trust you.”
“Rough edges can be filed down.”
“Metaphorically speaking?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
An alert on her phone prompted her.
Josie Fields’s body was found in a wooded rural area east of the Woodlands. Died of bullet wounds.
Laurel shook her head. The woman hadn’t walked into those woods.
CHAPTER 48
2:30 P.M. SATURDAY
FIVE DAYS UNTIL OCTOBER 15
An hour before the scheduled meeting at Wilmington’s condo, Cayden changed the location to a bar at an airport hotel.
“Daniel, go with me on this one.”
“I thought you trusted your old military bud.”
“I do. But not necessarily his men.”
“Which one?”
“Bulked-up Mexican. Bald. Mustache. Name’s Ignacio Vega. He gave Messner the name of Crow.”
“Why haven’t I heard about him before?”
“Calm down, Daniel. I can’t remember everything.”
Daniel attempted to swallow his anger. “Vega worked for you too?”
Wilmington cringed. “Okay, I should have told you sooner.”
“That would have kept eyes on one more man.” Daniel thought twice about tearing into him. That could get him tossed out of the condo, and the end result was worth more than a shouting match—or a hole in his chest.
“I wish I had an insider,” Wilmington said. “Instead, all I have is a man to whom I owe my life, a man who’s too smart to implicate himself. Trying to outthink him and trust him at the same time is tough.” He stared into Daniel’s face. “I’ve been a fool. I can’t trust Cayden.”
“What about his wife and daughter in Miami?”
“They’re innocent. Live on a tight budget from Almet Pharmaceuticals and whatever compensation he receives from the Army. They believe every word he says.” Wilmington paused. “Here’s a thought for SSA Preston. Cayden loves his daughter. She’s eight years old. My guess is he calls her often while on his so-called medical leave of absence. He uses a burner, but the wife’s phone could be traced.”
Daniel texted Preston and copied Laurel with the new information. “Thanks.”
“How are your grandparents?”
“Seems strange not to see them every day. But I don’t want to risk being followed, so I’m using my burner to check in with them and their bodyguards.”
“I have a man watching their hotel.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Those are two life insurance policies that Cayden won’t cash in.”
Wilmington chose to drive them to the airport hotel. Inside, Cayden already had a table. “Glad you’re here.” He lifted a glass of amber liquid. “I’m hungry. I see you have Mr. Krestle with you.” His eyes flashed. “My man’s seated behind us. Hey, Krestle, looks like you fell down. What happened?”
“I got back up,” Daniel said. “Who’s your man?”
“Vega,” Wilmington said.
The man turned and nodded. No emotion. No body language.
Daniel smiled at Wilmington’s food selection: fried alligator and jalapeño grits. It set the stage for devouring the scammer. All during the meal, Cayden and Wilmington talked about the old days, while Daniel listened. Vega wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
“Any prenups between you and Laurel?” Cayden said.
Wilmington studied his longtime friend. “Our marriage will be based on trust.”
“Just like mine. The way it’s supposed to be.”
“I’m about to be a married man and start a family.” Wilmington laid his knife and fork across his plate. “The idea of spending the rest of my life in prison doesn’t sit well. So I have a question for you. Are you planning on bombing the fund-raiser?”
Cayden swore. “Are you kidding? I want to enjoy my life too. Living the good life, not looking over my shoulder for a bullet.”
“Then what did you mean by an explosion?”
He laughed. “A little distraction while we pull the operation together.” He glanced at his watch. “Hey, I’ve got to catch a flight. Moved it up on me. I won’t be back until Monday afternoon, and I’ll have Natalie and Erin with me. We’ll be staying at the Galleria Marriott. Helps to have family at a fund-raiser.”
Daniel breathed relief. Having Cayden’s wife and child at the fund-raiser somewhat ensured the safety of the guests.
“A man needs to enjoy his family,” Wilmington said. “Looking forward to kids with Laurel. One more question.” Wilmington’s voice was low. “Who tried to poison Laurel’s horse?”
Cayden lifted his hands. “My guess? Josie or Messner. Both are dead.”
“If you hear different, I want to hack that person into little pieces.”
“Don’t blame you.” Cayden shook Wilmington’s hand and left the restaurant.
A few moments later, Wilmington and Daniel rode the elevator down to the lobby. The two walked outside and across the street to the parking lot where Wilmington’s Mercedes was parked. Uneasiness crept through Daniel, that extra sense he always attributed to God.
“Humor me for a moment.” Daniel stopped. “If you were dead, how would
that fit into Cayden’s scheme?”
Wilmington stared at the pavement. “If he proved I had plans to scam the fund-raiser and was the mastermind behind the life insurance sales, he’d be in good shape. And it would be easy to blame crimes on a dead man with a record. Are you thinking he’s going to wipe me out of the picture?”
“He could have planted a bomb in your car.”
Wilmington swung a look at his car. “I should have brought my driver.” He walked toward it.
“Wait,” Daniel said. “What if it’s cell phone detonated or attached to the door opening or ignition switch? Cayden could be watching. I’ll make a call to the bomb squad.”
Wilmington glared at his vehicle. “Doesn’t make sense to call a bomb squad for nothing.”
“I’d rather we make the call than meet my Maker prematurely. Let’s move back in case we have company.”
“More and more it’s looking like Cayden might double-cross me.” He pulled out his keys and hit Unlock.
The explosion rocked the parking lot. Daniel pushed Wilmington down hard. Metal flew around them, the smell of gasoline assaulting them. A second explosion and Wilmington groaned. A trickle of blood flowed from his back. A piece of glass had pierced him just left of his spine.
“What hit me?” Wilmington said, his face pale and drawn.
“I’ll get help. Don’t move.” Daniel phoned 911. Couldn’t tell how deep the glass penetrated—very little blood around it, but if he pulled it out and caused a gusher, the man would bleed out. Best wait for the paramedics.
“Got shot once,” Wilmington said. “Feels the same.”
“Mort! Krestle!”
Was that Cayden? Daniel stared at the man running their way, wanting to strangle him.
“What can I do to help?” Cayden said.
“Ambulance is on its way.”
He grimaced and bent to Wilmington’s side. “Hold on, buddy. Don’t you think you should yank out that glass? It’s ten inches high.”
Daniel hadn’t wanted Wilmington to know the source of the problem. Shock had crossed his mind. “Paramedics will handle it. My job is to keep him from moving.”
“Daniel, if there’s glass in my back, get it out of there.” Wilmington’s breathing grew ragged.
“Trust me on this.”
Cayden whistled. “You must have made someone really mad to blow up your Mercedes.”
Reality bulldozed Daniel, and he sucked in his rage. This was a game. Cayden was gambling on Wilmington and Daniel suspecting a car bomb.
An insane game.
CHAPTER 49
3:45 P.M. SATURDAY
Laurel had read through FBI reports and Cayden’s dossier until her eyes were crossed. She glanced at the showy diamond on her left hand. Reminded her of what she wanted to forget. Looked too much like the one Wilmington had slipped on her finger five years ago. Both times, the engagement meant she was one step closer to nailing him.
She picked up Miss Kathryn’s photo on the buffet. The dear woman would have advised her to pray. That didn’t solve a thing.
Agents had zeroed in on another scam operation in northwest Houston. Before victimizing Silver Hospitality, Fields and Messner were identified as scamming two of the wealthier residents who had some form of dementia. One had passed recently of a heart attack. No sign of foul play. Laurel read through the report. The scammers had used brochures with other fictitious business names. There had to be a slipup. They hadn’t dug deep enough.
The decision to work smart regarding Wilmington needled her. She never dreamed it would be this difficult. Seemed like she was running on fumes. Nothing falling into place.
A call came in from Daniel. Wonderful distraction.
“Wilmington’s been hurt. Someone planted a car bomb, and he was in the path of flying glass.”
“Where? How bad?”
“Glass shards embedded in his back. He’ll be okay. We’re at Cypress Creek Hospital in the ER. Doc said it’ll need a few stitches.”
“I’m on my way. Need to look like the caring fiancée. Daniel, did Cayden do this?”
“What do you think? He has a man who used to work for Wilmington.”
“When did you find this out?”
“Today.”
She sighed. “Okay, we can talk about that later. Hey, are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Nice to know you care.” His teasing eased her concern.
“Can’t have my partner down. Makes too much work for me. See you in a few minutes.”
The moment she ended the call, questions bombarded her. The car bomb didn’t make sense. Wilmington had done a lot of damage before he went to prison. Could be a contract out on him. But she doubted it.
She grabbed her purse while her head pounded from trying to outsmart the bad guys.
In the hospital waiting area, Cayden sat with an over-the-top bruiser type. She nodded hello and hurried to the nurses’ station to find Wilmington and Daniel. Wilmington lay on his stomach while a doctor stitched him up. His wound looked raw and nasty.
“Honey, are you in much pain?” she said, bending to his side.
“Fifteen stitches and counting,” he said.
“I got here as quickly as I could.” She took his hand.
“Somebody decided to blow up my Mercedes.”
“Where was Krestle?” She glared at Daniel as if he were at fault.
“Not as close as I was to the explosion,” Wilmington said. “Sweetheart, don’t be angry with him. His gut told him something was wrong, or I would have been blown to pieces.”
She lifted her chin. “Thank you, Krestle. I apologize for sounding harsh.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
This ruse had to end soon.
“Cayden and a friend are in the waiting room,” she said.
“He was flying home to Florida, but postponed it until tomorrow,” Daniel said.
“Wait until the doctor’s finished and I’ll talk to him.”
“I’m right here.” Cayden stepped in. “Mort, you have a problem of not listening.”
Laurel stored his comment.
“I know. Nearly got me killed in Afghanistan and today. Now I owe Krestle. He had this sixth sense that my car was rigged.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. As soon as the doc is finished, I’m out of here. I ordered a rental and Krestle will see me home.”
“Will Laurel be your nurse?”
“No need,” Wilmington said.
“I’ll check on him in the morning.” She smiled. “He’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”
Cayden gave her a smug look. Laurel read the body language, and a shiver raced through her. A man who lied to his family and killed helpless people was capable of anything.
CHAPTER 50
10:03 A.M. SUNDAY
FOUR DAYS UNTIL OCTOBER 15
Laurel responded to a call from SSA Preston. “Wanted to give you a heads-up on the case,” he said.
“I’m all ready for good news.”
“This is a small break. A judge approved an order to tap Natalie Cayden’s cell phone.”
“How did you manage that in so short a time?”
“The judge’s father suffers from Alzheimer’s.”
“Wonderful. Does she have a landline?”
“No. She and the daughter use Skype to stay connected with Cayden. We’re monitoring the account.”
“Did you learn anything during the interview with her?”
“She’s either ignorant or a good liar. Said her husband was seeking medical care at the VA hospital here in Houston. And he is. Everything about this guy says all-American husband and dad—clean, hardworking, ex-military.”
“He’s not that bright. I’ll tell Daniel. Not anything I want to share with Wilmington. Is his wife being followed?”
“Yes, for now. Honestly, I think that’s a dead end. We’ve watched her since Cayden’s name was brought into the case. She has a master’s in accounting but works par
t-time at home. Active in community and volunteer projects.”
“You’re right. Cayden’s using her.”
“How’s Wilmington?”
“Checked with Daniel, and he was still sleeping.”
“Lucky man.”
“Depends on how you look at the situation.” She scrambled to avoid any more cynicism. “I’m headed over there now. Maybe he’ll slip into delirium and tell us what we need to know.”
“Have a meeting with the ASAC this morning. I’ll call later. Keep your eyes open, Laurel. ”
As if he had to warn her.
10:45 A.M. SUNDAY
Laurel held her breath, willing stamina to fill her body. She hadn’t been in Wilmington’s condo since the night of the takedown. Daniel said he’d remodeled the entire thirty-two hundred square feet, but the nightmares were still there.
She parked her rental, an inexpensive Chevy with little power. Messner had totaled her Charger, and she hadn’t taken the time to look for a new car. She grabbed her purse and forced herself inside and to the elevator. Memories bombarded her. The things she’d done and said to seek evidence. At least this time they didn’t share the same bedroom. The thought twisted her stomach.
She knocked in case Wilmington was still asleep, and Daniel answered.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he whispered.
She stepped inside. “Be careful. I’m engaged to a powerful man.”
“He’s asleep.” Daniel shut the door, then whirled her around. “Been wanting to do this again since the night at my grandparents’ house.”
Before she could protest, he drew her to him, kissing her lightly, then deepening the embrace. She pulled back. “Daniel, I thought we were putting this aside until the case was over.”
