“Hold again, please. I need to speak with the manager.”
As hold music again filled his ear, Duncan hoped she would agree. He’d pay almost anything to get this particular cake delivered. Usually he focused on taking things away from his targets. In Ashley Wheeler’s case, though, he’d decided on an expanded approach. Ashley’s identity was so intertwined with her past, he had decided to do something he’d never done before, dredging up something from her past.
Finally, the woman on the other end of the phone spoke. “We can send the cake, sir, but I can’t guarantee it’ll survive the journey, or be as fresh as we’d like.”
Duncan grinned. He didn’t think Ashley would eat the cake, nor did he care if she did. “That’s fine. I’d also like a special message with it.”
“Of course, sir. We can either include a card inside the box or write the message on the cake itself.”
“Perfect.”
45
Chris
Chris shook himself out of his trance-like focus and looked up to see Hopkins leaning against his doorframe. “What’d you say?”
She smiled and placed a hand on her hip. “I said I’m going to go get lunch, and asked if you wanted to join me.”
“Oh, no. Thanks.” Chris shook his head, glanced at the clock and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I’m just going over my notes from the meeting with Ashley Wheeler. I’m almost certain she was the first target of our killer. I don’t know if he would have killed her that night if she hadn’t escaped, but she was a victim. The attacker profile fits, the victim profile fits, the timing fits.”
She nodded. “And it feels right, doesn’t it?”
“Yep.” Chris smiled and rubbed at his face. “And if it all works out we’ll have him cold.”
“Just remember our deal. You’ve got two days to tell Harvey about our progress or I will.”
Chris was about to argue, but she’d already left his office. He’d bought some extra time, which had given him the breathing space to follow up more leads, meet with Ashley Wheeler and form a working theory, but the clock was ticking. He needed more time.
With a sigh, he looked back down at his computer, still hoping he could change her mind. If management got hold of the work he’d done then it’d be wasted, disregarded in the race to jettison him. He hoped he could convince Hopkins to reconsider, or at least convince her to give him more time. He’d begun to regret letting her in on the case at all. She’d gone from being a great asset to a potential thorn in his side, but there was no way to unscramble that egg.
Chris looked up again as he heard a woman clear her throat. He was about to tell Hopkins to go get her lunch when the words caught in his mouth. “I—”
His boss, Tony Harvey, stood in his doorway alongside a woman and a man who Chris didn’t recognize. They all wore serious expressions, and the woman held a clear plastic folder with some documents inside. Without being invited, they stepped inside and closed the door. Chris didn’t know what was happening, but he had a fair suspicion. This felt a lot like he’d eaten his final meal and was about to be led to the galleys. Chris gestured for them to sit, and started neatening up the stacks of paper on his desk.
“Agent Horan.” Harvey spoke first. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything too urgent? I know you’re supposed to run a briefing tonight.”
“That’s the plan, sir.” Chris closed his laptop. “Is there some way I can help you guys?”
“This is Trish Worthington, she’s from IT. And Dean Nelson, from Human Resources.” Harvey gestured at his female companion. “We need to speak to you.”
“Nice to meet you all,” Chris lied.
Harvey sighed. “Chris, I’m afraid there have been some fairly serious accusations leveled against Agent Hopkins. Computer records show she’s been accessing files related to a number of murders you worked on during your time in the New York office. We can’t explain it, so we thought we’d speak to you first.”
Chris’s mind raced. He couldn’t believe Hopkins had been so sloppy. Early on in their collaboration he’d told her the hard limits on the Bureau’s IT systems, the lines she had to avoid crossing. She obviously hadn’t listened and had chased something too hard, flagging her activity. Once that happened, it wouldn’t have taken Harvey long to figure out what she’d been up to and, probably, whom she’d been doing it with.
She was fucked. He probably was too.
Chris had only one chance – play dumb. “What’s that have to do with me, sir? I’ve done nothing but community briefings in my entire time here.”
Harvey sighed. “Chris, we’ve gone back over your recent records too. You and Hopkins have both been looking through files related to murders all around the country, and particularly several you worked on during your time in New York. Though only Hopkins’ searches raised flags, you’re both implicated.”
Chris raised his eyebrows. “Implicated in what, exactly? It’s not a crime to access Bureau records relating to cases I’ve worked on. It’s not like the community briefings keep me very busy. What do you expect me to do all day? As far as I can see, neither Hopkins or I have done anything illegal by accessing the files of any murder I’ve worked on.”
“Wrong.” The woman from IT spoke for the first time, then flicked through her papers and placed a single sheet down on his desk. “Hopkins accessed a restricted file on Ashley Wheeler, a witness in a high-profile mob case. This is a serious matter. It could cost her career, unless there’s some other explanation.”
Chris kept silent, staring back and forth between them. Finally, Harvey sighed and asked the others to leave. Chris kept his face impassive as they argued for a few moments then left the room in a huff.
Harvey took a seat opposite Chris. The two of them sat in silence for several moments, then Harvey reached out and started to flick through some of the documents on Chris’s desk. Though he could close the lid on his laptop, Chris couldn’t hide the dozens of documents that proved his ongoing interest in the killer.
“You’re right in saying you’ve done nothing wrong, but Hopkins is in deep shit. She’s got no cover on this.” Harvey sighed. “Are you really going to sit here and tell me you didn’t tell her to access those files, Chris? You’ve put me in an impossible bind.”
“I’ve done nothing of the sort.” Chris paused. He had to ask the question. “But if I were to admit to it, what would the consequences be for both of us?”
“Hopkins would be fine. You’d be canned.” Harvey’s voice was full of venom. “You’ve had a warning already, followed by a re-posting. I know it was you. Admit it, Chris, and then go away.”
Chris had a choice to make. Though they knew the serial killer theory was his, he had an excuse for looking up the files, and had done nothing wrong in doing so. Hopkins had no such cover. He could either take the bullet, protecting her and accepting responsibility, or he could lie. If she wore the accusation, it’d be a terrible blot against her record, and would likely prevent her from advancing very far for the foreseeable future.
He made his decision. He’d come too close to catching the killer to blow his chances now. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I accessed the files of some old cases, but I haven’t influenced Hopkins in any way. I’m clean.”
“You’re nothing of the kind.” Harvey scowled and stood. “You’ve damaged the career of one of my best young agents. You’ll need to live with that.”
Chris kept silent as Harvey left the room, slamming the door behind him. He swung back on his chair and stared at the ceiling, wondering if he’d made the right decision. He’d pushed Hopkins on top of the grenade to save his own skin – and more importantly, to save any chance of catching the killer. He hated to admit it, but her threat to reveal their shadow investigation to Harvey had influenced his decision.
There was another knock on the door. Chris sighed. His breath caught in his throat, then he composed himself. “Justine, I—”
“I just saw Harvey on my way back from lunch.” The tears s
treaked down her face as she stared at him, the food in her hand seemingly forgotten. “You make a habit of ruining those who help you, don’t you Chris? I’m not sure you’re any better than the killer you’re chasing. The only difference is you leave your victims alive.”
The words were like a blow to the stomach. He knew there was some truth to them. “I–”
“Save it, Chris. I’m done.”
46
Ashley
“I’m fine, Lucy, I promise.” Ashley placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, crouching down so she was at Lucy’s eye level. “There’s no need to be upset.”
Ashley hated lying to her daughter, but what else could she say? That her mommy had been home when some of the nastiest criminals in America set her house alight? That those same criminals lived in the same city as Lucy? She’d told Tom the truth and they’d agreed their daughter didn’t need to know. As far as their family unit was concerned, the house fire that had nearly killed her was a terrible accident. It was easier for everyone.
Tom had finally agreed to bring Lucy for a visit after the fire and Ashley’s time in hospital. The minute Ashley had opened the door, Lucy had rushed to hug her and hadn’t let go for several minutes, no matter how much tickling Ashley had inflicted. Her daughter hadn’t even asked about the cop standing guard out front. They’d talked about what had happened and, after Ashley had promised Lucy she was fine, the little girl had started to cry.
“Are you going to be okay now?” Lucy had stopped trembling, but she was still teary. “Is there someone trying to hurt you?”
“I’m okay.” Ashley smiled, pulling Lucy in close for a hug. “Now, you need to eat that chocolate before the chocolate monster eats it all!”
Lucy giggled, but didn’t move out of her arms. After another second, Ashley let go and Lucy ran over to the coffee table where she’d left the chocolate bar. Ashley watched, an indulgent smile on her face, as Lucy ripped open the wrapper and bit off far too much for a small mouth to chew. Then Ashley stalked forward with exaggerated movements, growling as she imitated the threatened chocolate monster. Lucy squealed and stuffed more chocolate into her mouth.
“The chocolate monster is going to get you!” Ashley spoke in her deepest voice. “You better watch out!”
“No!” Lucy squealed again, her laughs mixing with the last of the sobs as she tried to escape Ashley’s grasp.
“Got you!” Ashley scooped Lucy up, swinging her around as they both laughed loudly. “Now, give up your chocolate!”
“No! I—”
A knock on the door penetrated their fragile bubble. Ashley looked at the door, waiting for the cop outside to enter. She stood frozen in place, until there was another knock. She placed Lucy down on the floor, walked to the door and peered through the peephole. A man who looked like a courier stood there, looking completely disinterested as he waited. Ashley assumed the cop had checked him out, so she opened the door.
“Hello,” Ashley addressed the courier, then turned and looked at the cop who stood nearby. “Is it all good?”
“He checks out, Ms Wheeler.” The police officer offered Ashley a nod. “I’ve checked his identification and the package. It’s just a cake. I thought your girl could use a treat.”
“Thanks.” Ashley frowned, a bit unsure by what the officer meant, then turned her attention back to the courier. “How can I help you?”
The courier held out a box, which had a clipboard on top of it. “I just need you to sign there.”
Ashley had no idea what the package could be, but she signed and took possession of it regardless. She thanked the courier and carried the box inside, closing the door behind her. The package was about the size of a shoebox, and wasn’t overly heavy. Ashley had never been a prolific shopper, and nobody knew she was here at the motel, which made her very suspicious. As she placed the box down on the small dining table, Lucy came over, curious.
“What is it?” Lucy grabbed at Ashley’s hand and squeezed it tightly, standing on her tiptoes to stare at the box.
“I don’t know, honey.” Ashley started opening the box with her free hand and then paused as soon as she saw what was inside. “Get us a soda while I open it?”
“Okay!” Lucy beamed. She let go of Ashley’s hand and ran into the small kitchenette, where there was a bar fridge filled with expensive minibar soda.
Ashley opened the box with some trepidation. Inside the courier’s box was a second box, one with a decorative pattern and a restaurant name on it. The moment she read the name, Ashley tensed up. She didn’t want to open the box, but she had to find out what was inside. All the strange things in her life at the moment pointed to the mob, yet Chris Horan had a different theory. She wasn’t sure which was true, but this parcel seemed to suggest the former.
The box was from the restaurant where she used to work. The restaurant where she’d seen Saul Laverri shoot Flavio Grossi.
With a shaking hand, Ashley opened the box. There was a chocolate cake inside. It didn’t look very special, but the writing on it told Ashley all she needed to know. It simply said her name. Not her witness protection name, her real name.
The officer on the door had clearly felt like it was an innocent gift, but Ashley knew better. The mob had figured out where she was hiding after they’d torched her house.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy returned to Ashley’s side, holding out the soda for her mother to open.
“Nothing honey.” Ashley reached down and scooped up Ashley in a hug. “Nothing at all. Everything is going to be great.”
As she hugged her daughter, Ashley’s bottom lip quivered. The man who’d attacked her a decade ago was back on the scene, and now she was faced with Laverri’s revenge as well? It didn’t seem fair.
She had to fight. There was no other way to make sure the threat was dealt with, and that Lucy was safe. She’d tried taking Lucy, she’d tried hiding in Wallingford, she’d tried letting the police deal with it, but none of those things had worked. Worse, some of her actions had harmed Lucy, the most important thing in her life.
Now her daughter was in danger. Ashley needed to be strong. She decided then that she wouldn’t see her daughter again until it was safe. She’d help Horan find the man who’d attacked her so many years ago and deal with him, then she’d figure out what to do about Laverri.
Until then, she wouldn’t see Lucy. It wasn’t safe.
47
Duncan
“Two hundred people dead.” Duncan shook his head as his eyes scanned the newspaper story. “Can you believe it?”
“It’s crazy. The whole world has gone to shit.” The waitress chimed in, wiping the table in front of him. “Can I get you anything else, honey?”
Duncan shook his head and looked up at her with a smile. “I’ll just get the check while I finish my paper, if that’s okay?”
“Take your time, we’re not pressed for tables.” The waitress smiled back, then moved away to collect the check.
Duncan took a sip of his coffee, then turned the page in his newspaper. He wasn’t really reading it. Instead, he was imagining Ashley Wheeler’s reaction when the cake he’d ordered from her old workplace arrived. It should’ve been delivered about an hour ago. He’d reintroduced fear into her life, now he was going to take something else away from her.
After another sip of coffee, Duncan glanced toward the stairs that led down to the bathroom, where a man had just disappeared from sight. Duncan stood, rolled the newspaper under his arm and placed a twenty on the table. He looked around, making sure everything was as it should be, then he took the stairs, rolling the newspaper carefully as he did. He folded the rolled-up newspaper in two, then clutched it tightly.
It’d hit like a brick. He was counting on it.
He stopped briefly outside the male and female bathrooms, listening for any sound from the latter. After a few seconds, he was convinced it was quiet enough to proceed. He started to whistle as he pushed open the door to the men’s, moved to the urina
l and stood beside the other man. Duncan didn’t unzip, he just whistled and clutched the paper until the man looked sideways at him.
“Can I help you, pal?” The man spoke in a New York accent. “Are you some kind of freak?”
Duncan turned his head slowly. He clenched the newspaper tightly, then smiled at Tom Wheeler.
“Yes.”
As Wheeler frowned at him and started to put his dick away, Duncan turned and brought the newspaper up in an arc, swinging it in one smooth motion. The overhand blow smashed Wheeler in the side of the head. Wheeler grunted, reeling from the blow. Staggering back, he reached up, instinctively trying to shield his head against another blow.
But Duncan didn’t give him a chance to regain his composure. He pressed forward, hitting him again and again. It was only after the third blow that Wheeler put up his fists and readied himself to fight back. He’d planned to kill Tom Wheeler, but Duncan suddenly had a strong desire to fight this man. He wanted to prove he was better, more powerful. He’d prove that he was the one who should’ve had Ashley by besting the man she’d chosen instead.
Duncan tossed the paper onto the bathroom floor and raised his fists. He wasn’t much of a fighter, but Tom Wheeler didn’t look to be at his best. He was unsteady on his feet, swaying as he stepped forward. Wheeler threw a punch, a straight right jab, and Duncan flinched backward. The punch hit Duncan in the chest, but it had very little force behind it.
As Wheeler’s arm drew back, Duncan stepped forward. He brought his right fist around with as much power as he could and clipped Wheeler in the jaw. His already shaky opponent’s eyes went glassy and he dropped to the tiled floor. As the other man’s head hit the tiles, Duncan gave him a vicious kick in the midsection. Bloodied and dazed, Wheeler tried to curl himself up to protect against the kicks Duncan was laying into him.
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