by Jen Davis
When Matthew’s phone rang, he was surprised to hear Jack Lawrence’s voice on the other end. Jack didn’t like Matthew and wouldn’t call if it could be avoided. “You have a problem, Matthew. Mack Finley.”
Matthew had completely forgotten about Finley since his arrest. “What about him?”
“He’s talking about turning state’s evidence. He’s scheduled to talk with the FBI later this week.” To Matthew’s ears, it almost sounded like Jack was laughing. “I’ll also trust you to mention it to David, if and when the time comes that you need to.”
With that, Jack hung up, leaving Matthew to listen to dead air. Matthew had to take care of Finley and he had to do it in a hurry. The pain in his chest started to increase and he sat back in his chair, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.
“Where the hell is Michaelson?” he said to nobody in particular just as Crescent walked into the office.
Crescent took one look at Matthew and knew something was wrong. “What is it?”
“We have a problem.”
Crescent listened closely as Matthew relayed his conversation with Jack. “I’ll call and get the plane ready. After the doctor clears you for flight, we will leave.”
“Matthew,” Elias approached the underboss and began digging his stethoscope out of his bag, “how long were you having dizziness and pain before you called me?”
“What took you so long?” Matthew asked.
Ignoring the question, Elias gave Matthew a quick examination and packed his instruments back in his bag. He then gave Matthew a stern look. “Are you taking your medication regularly?”
Matthew gave an irritated nod. “Yes.”
“Are you doing your best to keep your stress levels low?”
“Well, I was,” Matthew said with irritation, “but I just got a phone call that wasn’t good news. Don’t look at me like that. Either of you. I’m not too old to forget how to take care of myself. I take my medication and have been trying to keep my blood from boiling. Today just isn’t a good day.”
Crescent turned to the doctor. “Can he fly?”
Dr. Michaelson let out a scoffing laugh. “You’re not serious, are you? No, he can’t fly. Not right now, anyway. I will need to run some tests. I’m not going to let him get on a plane and risk a heart attack or worse.”
Crescent turned to Matthew, who wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding his anger and frustration. “I’ll make sure the problem is taken care of.”
Matthew didn’t have a choice. He would not be going to New Orleans to see Mack Finley, but he trusted Crescent to do what needed to be done.
Dr. Michaelson interrupted Matthew’s thoughts. “If you want to join Mr. Crescent on his errand, you will need to get the tests done right now.”
When Elias discovered that Matthew hadn’t eaten a substantial meal since yesterday morning, he told Matthew that he would be coming back to the office with a tray of food. “If you won’t eat it voluntarily, I’ll force it down your throat.”
With Crescent off arranging the flight and the doctor getting him food, Matthew was enjoying the peace and quiet of a brief babysitting reprieve until he heard the door to the office lobby open and footsteps approaching. He groaned in exasperation.
Madeline leaned against the door, affecting disappointment. “Matthew, you hurt me when you don’t seem happy to see me.”
He had to wonder if his day could get any worse as she floated into his office with a flirtatious, teasing grin on her face. She took a seat in front of his desk, slowly crossed her legs in a skirt that wasn’t too short, but showed a lot of leg, and smiled at him.
A plane ride may not give me a heart attack, he thought, but she might.
They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, the grin never leaving her face, and the scowl never leaving his.
“What do you want, Madeline?”
Her temperament went from flirty to serious, her face hard and determined. “The contract in Atlantic City. My patience has thinned and it’s time we discussed it again. You promised me forty percent and I haven’t heard a word. You stole business from me, Matthew, and I won’t stand for it. You said you would make a phone call. I’m here to make sure that phone call is made.”
Matthew gave her a look of surprise. She had never been demanding like this with him before and he didn’t like it. “You want me to call right now?”
“Yes, because I’m not going anywhere until you do. Besides, you wouldn’t be losing much. Only sixty percent.”
His eyes widened in surprise and he let out a laugh. “Sixty percent? Are you out of your mind? What makes you think I would give you sixty percent?”
She rose from her chair and stood behind him, hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. Her touch sent electricity through him and he tried to ignore it, yet he didn’t make any move to avoid her touch.
“Oh, Matthew,” she said sweetly. “Why do we do this? Don’t you ever get tired of the cat and mouse game that we play? It’s tiresome, don’t you think? The sexual tension between us is so thick you couldn’t cut it with a chainsaw. But we have done nothing over the years to relieve that tension, instead, we banter back and forth—me making blatant advances on you and you pretending you’re not interested. While I do enjoy the game, I can tell you don’t quite know what to do about it, so I have an alternate offer for you to consider.”
Matthew was having a hard time ignoring her touch, and tried to keep an even voice. “An alternate offer?”
“We each have something the other wants. You call the casino and revise the contract and we will both get what we want. In fact, now that I think about it, sixty percent really isn’t acceptable.” She tightened her grip on his shoulders. “I want the whole thing.”
Matthew shifted in his seat to break Madeline’s touch, and would have jumped out of his chair if he wasn’t currently burdened with sexual desire and a painful ticker in his chest. He turned and stared at her with disbelief. “You are out of your mind! Who in the hell do you think you are?”
Madeline kneeled in front of Matthew, put her hands on his thighs, and slowly moved them up his legs as she spoke, her voice silky. “I think you’ll do it, Matthew. In fact, I know you’ll do it.”
Matthew grabbed Madeline’s wrists and squeezed, forcibly stopping her hands from advancing further up his legs. His desire was gone and he glared at her, his anger reaching its peak as he stood and raised her off the floor. “I don’t want what you have to offer, Madeline.”
“Oh, I think you do.”
Matthew scoffed. “What could you possibly have that I would want?”
“I received an interesting telephone call last night, Matthew.” Madeline leaned in close enough to kiss him, her grin never disappearing. In a satisfied, triumphant tone, she looked him in the eye and told him, “I know where your daughter is.”
***
Outside the door, Dr. Michaelson, carrying Matthew’s tray of food, held his breath and prayed nobody else came in the room.
Chapter 33
Judd looked as frantic as Hunter expected after having been woken up before seven on a Saturday morning with a direct command to get to Dennis’s house as soon as possible, and not to forget his laptop under threat of bodily harm.
“I’m here,” he said, setting the laptop on the table, then looked to Dennis with questioning eyes. Dennis was relaxed and calm as he raised his coffee cup to Judd in welcome.
Hunter had a spectrum of anger, frustration, confusion, and determination to get something accomplished flashing through him, and now that Judd was here, he might be able to finally get a few more answers.
Judd took a seat next to Dennis and said to Hunter, “Dude, you look like shit.”
Hunter gave Judd a hard, tired stare. “Yeah, I’ve had quite a night.”
Dennis turned to Judd. “Go get yourself a cup of coffee. My guess is that we’re in for quite a story.”
After Judd returned from the kitchen with his coffee, and Dennis�
��s wife had excused herself to her garden, Hunter told the whole story from the day he met Chloe until he left her apartment early this morning. He went into detail about his late wife and who she apparently was in a previous life—a woman named Saffron, working for the mob, who sold herself for money in exchange for food in her stomach and a roof over her head.
Dennis scratched the stubble on his cheeks and gave a quiet whistle. “Damn, boy. That’s a blow to the balls, isn’t it?”
Hunter gave an agreeing laugh. “A goddamn crippling one. I still feel like I’m going to puke.”
“Well, I’m sure lack of food and sleep might have something to do with that too.” Dennis took a drink of his coffee and gave Hunter a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, man. I know you were pretty nuts about this girl.”
“The drive back home was torture, man. I shouldn’t still care. She lied to me, but at the same time, she spent hours giving me some of what I’ve been looking for to solve these cases. But she still didn’t tell me everything. There’s more to the story that she’s holding back.”
“There’s a lot in here,” Judd said as he stared at his computer screen.
Dennis’s eyebrows lifted, impressed, as he leaned over to glance at the computer screen. “That didn’t take long.”
“If you’d get a damn computer in your house, we would have been able to find him an hour ago, you cheap bastard,” Hunter said as he reached for Judd’s laptop to see what was found. “You’re lucky your neighbors don’t have a password on their wireless or I would have dragged you to the office instead.”
Hunter clicked on the most recent link that mentioned Matthew’s name. It was a newspaper article from the Boston Herald about the groundbreaking ceremonies, held two days ago, for a new wing at a children’s hospital. Hunter scanned the story, but that wasn’t what he was interested in. He was interested in the picture featuring the joyous members of the hospital administrators and board of directors, the president of the board shaking hands with the man of the hour—the generous benefactor to the ailing and terminal children of Massachusetts. Hunter clicked on the picture, enlarging it so he could get a better look at Matthew Parnell. He wasn’t as old as he imagined; he was a handsome man, clean-cut, very tightly composed, with a generous smile on his face that said, Oh, it’s nothing. Really.
After a few minutes, Judd broke the silence. “What exactly are you looking at?”
Hunter turned the laptop around so Dennis and Judd could see the picture of Matthew, both of them with questioning looks on their faces, but Hunter didn’t allow them long to study the picture. “The Black Rose Murderer.”
Judd’s head snapped up in instant understanding. “That’s him?” Hunter nodded, but the look on Judd’s face said their work would be cut out for them. “If this guy is who she says he is…I gotta be honest, guys. Going up against the mob…”
Dennis gave Judd a slap on the back of the head like a scolding parent. “Don’t even finish that thought. Besides, the mob is Italian. This is just a well-organized, yet slightly dysfunctional organized crime family.” As Judd rubbed the back of his head, Dennis turned to Hunter. “Do you think she’ll help us?”
“I don’t know. She’s afraid.” Hunter stared at the picture of the man responsible for the Black Rose Murders with a hard and determined look. “I can tell you this. Chloe is right about this man’s power, ego, and reputation being everything to him. Just look at the smug smile on his face and the pat on the back he’s giving himself.”
“When is she planning on leaving for Boston?” Dennis asked.
“We didn’t get that far in the conversation before she fell asleep. I’m going to call her in a couple days,” Hunter said. At Judd’s look of impatience, he added, “I need to give her a few days. She has to think about what she wants to do, and she will probably want time to talk to this friend of hers. Which reminds me, you need to get ahold of the Marshals and have them meet with me ASAP. I need to be able to tell her what they’re willing to offer if her friend testifies.”
“If you can get him to trial,” Dennis reminded Hunter.
“Oh, I’ll get him to trial,” Hunter said assuredly. “But if the Marshals don’t offer anything, I can guarantee that her friend won’t talk, and Chloe will walk away. I know it.”
Dennis turned to Hunter. “Is that it?” he asked.
“That’s it,” Hunter affirmed.
“Okay.” Dennis stood and approached Hunter, speaking with a stern tone. “The guest room is upstairs, first door on the left. You’re going to go up there and sleep the sleep of the dead.” Hunter was about to argue but Dennis put his hands up. “Don’t even think of arguing with me, boy. I’ll drag you upstairs by your ears if that’s how you want to play this out. Or, if you prefer, I’ll go get the missus and you can hear it from her. Your choice.”
Judd covered a smile with his coffee cup while Hunter looked at Dennis like a child being punished for setting ants on fire.
“While you’re sleeping,” Dennis motioned to Judd, “we will start by getting all the information we can on Parnell and let you know all about it when you’re awake and fed again.”
Dennis and Hunter had a stare down that lasted no longer than ten seconds before Hunter gave in with a sigh and stood up.
“First door on the left?” Hunter asked with a grin.
“Smart ass,” Dennis replied. “Get up there.”
Hunter went upstairs, took off his shoes, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He dreamed of the faces of the women in his files, each one of them looking to him for the chance to finally bring them peace.
Chapter 34
The time had come for Chloe to talk to Alice. The two friends sat in Chloe’s living room as she confessed everything to her friend, from the second she first saw Hunter to the last time.
“Witness protection?” Alice said with awe. “For all of us?”
“Nothing is set in stone yet. He made no promises.”
“Reggie,” Alice whispered. “Would Reggie understand? Maybe. Would he come with me? I don’t know. Would he let the boys come with me? Of course he wouldn’t. Would the boys want to come with me without him? No, they wouldn’t.”
“You can ask and answer questions all day, Alice. The bottom line is that you have a difficult decision to make. Whether or not you agree to protection, if and when Hunter does get proof against my father, he will have the power to make you testify.” She let out an apologetic sigh. “Look, I know your choices suck, but what if I fail? Hunter’s the only one who can help you.”
“Do you think you will fail?”
The unknown crossed Chloe’s features. “It’s a definite possibility.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do yet?”
“Not yet, but I will figure something out. If I can get some kind of evidence while I’m there and get it to Hunter…”
Alice looked at Chloe like she was an idiot. “Do you really think that’s going to happen? When you walk through those doors, Matthew will have you locked down so tight you’ll need permission to go to the bathroom. How do you expect to get any evidence?”
Chloe’s voice exploded as she threw her hands above her head in exasperation. “I don’t know! Look, this is the best I can come up with right now. I can’t make any promises or guarantees.”
Alice nodded in understanding. “When are you leaving for Boston?”
“I’ve got to prepare myself to be fed to the lions. I’m leaving Friday.”
“Well, then,” Alice said with decisiveness in her voice, “I need to have a chat with my husband.”
Chapter 35
After three days of searching, the only thing that Hunter, Judd, and Dennis could find out about Matthew Parnell was that he was one hell of a swell guy in New England. They had no probable cause, so obtaining any kind of warrant for deeper investigation was out of the question. There was nothing found on Evan Crescent, which didn’t surprise any of them since he stayed in the shadows and only came out wh
en called, and very little learned about Dr. Elias Michaelson.
Hunter and Judd had met with, and told the story to, the assistant director of the FBI, the US Marshals, and the federal prosecutor. They wouldn’t have to prove that Parnell personally committed any kind of illegal activity, all they would have to prove was that he owned or managed a criminal organization that performed specific illegal activity, which was what Parnell was doing when he paid people to erase problems. Witness protection would absolutely be available to Alice and her family, as well as Chloe or anybody else, should they choose to testify against him. If what Chloe had told Hunter was true, that Parnell had his hands in many powerful pockets, and if he chose to name names while in custody, the situation could get stickier than fresh pulled taffy, and the publicity would only make it worse.
But before any promises of witness protection could be made or any deals struck, an investigation of the threat or potential for danger had to be conducted. If the potential threats were deemed credible, and Hunter was certain they would be, then the final decision for protection would be made.
The same would be said for Mack Finley.
Hunter stood behind his desk, inventorying all of the files that had to do with the Black Rose Murders. His stack of files had grown to nine; he had handwritten notes and two folders full of printouts, photos, and all of the information they were able to find on Matthew Parnell, Evan Crescent, and Dr. Elias Michaelson. Unfortunately, neither folder was as thick as he had been hoping. His puzzle pieces were in neat stacks on his desk and all he had to do was put them together, then find the missing few.
Judd knocked on the door to Hunter’s office and leaned in. “They’re here.”
***
Hunter exchanged a good-to-see-you nod with Finley’s lawyer as he and Judd entered the conference room and took their seats with their backs facing the partially shaded glass doors. Mack Finley sat next to his lawyer, his hands resting on the table in front of him, handcuffs firmly in place. Finley’s lawyer, Doug Comeaux, was a good guy and a fair man, a criminal lawyer for twenty years who obviously didn’t like working with criminals anymore.
