While he waited for Finn to join him, he returned to the pile of files lying on his desk. Television glamorized his job, but when you got right down to it, it was boring, repetitive fact-checking and clue searching that made up the bulk of any investigation. The exciting bits were fewer and farther between than they like to make out.
Eventually, he picked up the file Jackson had put together for him on Marcus. She’d been pretty thorough in her search, and he was surprised at some of the things she’d managed to dig up. Although he shouldn’t have been. She’d been on his team for a good number of years, and she’d proven her worth, time and again.
He had no idea how or where she found the information that she did, but he had never known anyone quite as talented at ferreting out the kinds of things she managed to dig up on suspects. The kinds of things nobody wanted discovered.
He became so engrossed in the file it took a moment for him to realize there’d been a knock on his door. Looking up, he found Finn standing in the open doorway.
“Finn. Come on in. Have a seat.”
“You’re looking for me, Boss?”
“Yeah. I’ve got some interesting reading for you,” Larry stated as he handed the file over. “Jackson’s found us some interesting tidbits. Also, I’ve had a chat with the warden at Colombia Penitentiary. Thought you might want to ride along on the day.”
“Yeah, I’m down for that.”
“Great. As soon as I’ve heard back from Wilder with a time, I’ll let you know.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get the file back to you.”
Larry watched as Finn left, his mind already turning to thoughts of his impending visit.
4
It had been incredible spending time with Maddie and Darryl and being included in their decision-making for the wedding. Tahlia was thrilled her daughter had been so willing to let go over the past and welcome her back so readily.
Maddie had been adamant that she wanted her mother involved in the wedding plans now that she was back. Despite being a grown woman, she’d been needy and had conferred with Tahlia about everything during the catering consult. And Tahlia suspected it might have irritated Darryl. But that man had been patient with Maddie and seemed to understand his fiancée’s neediness.
Now Tahlia was home and in desperate need of a hot, relaxing bath. Plenty of bubbles and warm water. Her muscles were tight from the tension she’d carried with her during her reunion with her sweet girl.
She kicked off her shoes as she walked through her bedroom to the en suite bathroom. Turning the water on, she rummaged through her new and treasured collection of bath products – bubble bath, bath bombs, bath salts, and more. Admittedly, she’d gone a bit overboard with her purchase, but she’d been celebrating her return to Washington, and possibly her old life – a carefree life, a life before her marriage to Marcus.
Tahlia undressed quickly, looking forward to slipping into the bubbles and soaking her cares away. As she submerged her body in the warm water rapidly filling the tub, she couldn’t hold back a moan of sheer pleasure. The bubbles made the water silky smooth against her skin, the heat easing the tightness of her muscles.
As she lay back, her thoughts turned to her sister, Clarice. Tahlia had finally scraped together the courage to reach out to Maddie, but she had yet to achieve that level of courage to contact her sister. She wasn’t sure what kind of reception she’d get.
Clary had been the one to find her, broken and bleeding, on her bedroom floor – exactly as Marcus had left her — locked in a haze of pain so intense she’d been incapable of moving or calling out for help. She’d instinctively known that beating would be the end of her. And she’d made her peace.
She had worked so hard to shield her Maddie from the fact that her parents’ marriage was a sham and her father a monster. And it had saddened her that her daughter would grow up without her, but Tahlia had nothing left in her to fight. The pain that radiated from her body had been different from previous occasions, and her intuition told her the damage was worse.
That Clary had found her when she did was the only reason Tahlia had survived. The doctors had battled for hours to put her broken body back together, telling her family how lucky she’d been that her sister had found her.
When Tahlia had finally been brought out of her medically induced coma, she remembered how tangible her sister’s rage had been, as if it were a living, breathing entity in the room. Her sister had ranted about how Marcus had gotten away with his abusive ways for long enough. She was done standing by and watching him systematically break the happy, carefree, vibrant young woman she’d been.
Clary had taken matters into her own hands, contacting her friend in the police force, and had Marcus arrested. She’d forced Tahlia to lay criminal charges against him and had then organized for her to disappear when it was all over.
And she had. She hadn’t had much choice in the matter. But, at the time, it had been exactly what she needed. Her broken body had needed time to heal, and her broken spirit had needed counseling.
The organization, Friend of Patty, had not only given her a new identity and place to live, but they’d arranged for her to receive the counseling she needed from a psychiatrist sympathetic to their cause. And, with time, she’d begun to heal.
Now, she was back, and she had a feeling her sister wasn’t going to be quite as ecstatic about her return as her daughter had been. She knew, though, that it would be out of concern. Clary understood how powerful Marcus was, and Washington was still his town, despite his fall from grace.
But truth be told, Tahlia was tired of hiding away from the world. She might have been given a chance at a new life with no ties to the old, but still she hadn’t stopped looking over her shoulder. Her new name hadn’t taken away the old fear that one day, somehow, Marcus would find her and finish what he’d started.
She’d felt isolated and had missed her family terribly. It was no way to live. In fact, it wasn’t a life at all. So, she’d worked hard on overcoming her trauma and fears, on getting stronger emotionally, in order to return home.
While she would be eternally grateful to the wonderful people at Friends of Patty, she’d needed to come back. The forced separation would’ve finished what Marcus had started – it would’ve killed her spirit completely, and then he may just as well have finished her off that day he’d delivered her final beating.
A shiver worked its way down her spine, making her aware the water had gone cold while she’d lay lost in the unhappy memories of the past. Climbing out of the bath, Tahlia reached for the plush, fluffy towel to dry herself.
As she ran the soft fabric over her skin, she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror on the wall. She dropped her hands and took a good, long look at her body. She was never going to be a runway model – life and two pregnancies had left their mark. But she’d tried to take care of herself over the years.
Age had lessened the elasticity of her skin, and things were starting to head south. At forty-five years old, her skin didn’t have the same firmness as it’d had when she was in her twenties and thirties.
Watching herself in the mirror as she continued to dry off, her mind wandered to thoughts of Laurence. Would he find her as attractive now as he had when she’d been a young woman, newly married? She’d caught him looking her at her a few times and had often wondered what he saw.
Laurence had always been gentle with her. Treated her as she wished Marcus would have. It hadn’t always been bad. In the beginning, her husband had treated her well. After Maddie had been born, he’d changed a bit. He was a little less loving, a little less attentive.
At first, Tahlia had been lost as to what had brought about the change. Until she’d overheard a conversation he was having with his father about Madison. Tahlia been left shaken to the core as she heard her father-in-law blame her for giving Marcus a daughter instead of a son. His father had urged Marcus to keep trying; he needed an heir.
Her naïve belief that he’d marrie
d her because he loved her had died that day.
And the day she’d discovered she was pregnant again, she’d been terrified to tell her husband. What if it was another girl? She didn’t think her heart would survive his disappointment at being saddled with another daughter.
Instead, she’d waited until they’d been able to test for the sex of her baby. When she’d found out she was having a boy, she’d gone home and told Marcus she was pregnant. As if overnight, a switched had flipped, and things went back to the way they’d been when the two of them had first been married.
Three weeks after she’d announced she was pregnant, Tahlia had woken in the middle of the night in agony. She’d stumbled to the bathroom and, in the harsh glare of the light, had stared in horror at the blood coating the inside of her thighs.
When she’d woken Marcus to beg him for help, instead of doing so, he’d lashed out at her. He’d berated her, calling her some of the most hurtful names she’d ever heard before, telling her to sort herself out. He’d slammed out of the room and left her to do just that.
Hysterical, she’d called Laurence. He’d pulled up outside the main house minutes later in a staff SUV, dropped the back, and laid out a bed of towels for her to lay on before rushing her to the hospital.
As she’d lay praying her baby would make it, a distant part of her mind had grieved the fact that her bodyguard had cared more about her wellbeing than the man who’d promised to love her in sickness and in health. And when it became painfully obvious her prayer was not to be answered, she’d grieved the loss of her baby boy. She hadn’t believed anything else could possibly hurt as much.
She’d been wrong.
When she’d come home from the hospital, she’d tried to talk to Marcus. He’d visited her briefly each day for appearance’s sake. But he’d ensured she understood he blamed her for the loss of their baby and refused to talk about it with her.
They’d fought, and he’d been supremely clear that, in his eyes, she was a failure. As the argument had escalated, the first blow had come out of nowhere. Had taken her by surprise. With each blow he landed, she’d died a little more inside. Until she’d felt hollowed out and empty. Like there was nothing left.
That day, she’d mourned not just the loss of her beautiful baby boy she’d gotten to hold for a fleeting moment, but for her marriage and the loss of her dream of a happy ever after.
The afternoon sun baked down on the concrete yard of Colombia Penitentiary, now devoid of inmates. Free time was over, and everyone was back inside. The deserted yard looked desolate, the concrete cracked. Exactly the way Larry imagined despair looked.
This was the place hopes and dreams came to die. Well, for those who’d had any left when they’d arrived.
He and Finn waited at the heavily fortified gate for it to open. They’d passed the security checkpoint and were now just waiting for access to the facility. Jim Wilder had come through for him, and they were here to see Marcus Forrester. Larry had brought a copy of the records Tahlia had given him, gripping them in his clenched fist.
He wasn’t banking on the former senator giving them a warm reception, but he was hoping the man would be willing to talk to them. Although, he wasn’t holding his breath for that either. Their history was not a good one, barely civil at best, and downright hostile at worst.
It hadn’t started out that way, but when Larry had learned the kind of man Marcus was, he’d soon lost any respect for him. Any man who lifted a hand to a woman didn’t deserve respect, in his opinion.
The buzzing of the security lock drew Larry from his introspection. Finn pushed the it inward, and Larry indicated for the man to precede him. As he closed the gate behind him, he couldn’t prevent the twitch of unease. People like him and Finn were neither safe nor welcome in places like this. But it was part of the job. When you put the badge on, you accepted the risks.
As they stepped into the building, they took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the change in light from the bright sunlight to the dimmer, artificially-lit building. He saw a guard standing by the inner security door, waiting to escort them. At the harsh snick of the electronic lock opening, the the man pushed the door open and showed them through.
Jim Wilder stood on the other side.
“Welcome to my little slice of hell, gentlemen,” he said with a laugh.
Both men shook the warden’s hand in greeting.
“Not gonna lie, Jim. This place always gives me the heebie-jeebies. I don’t know how you stand working here every day.” Larry said.
The man laughed again. “You know how it is. You do what you gotta do, right? Come on in.” He indicated for them to enter his office, stepping aside for them to walk ahead of him. Gesturing for them to take a seat, he went around the desk and took his own.
“Not sure how much you’re going to get out of our man, Forrester. He doesn’t strike me as the sharing kind. I can’t imagine he’s going to be overly happy to see you.”
“He’s going to be even more unhappy by the time this visit is done. I’ll tell you that much,” Larry replied. “We’ve found some sensitive information I sincerely doubt he wanted to ever land in our possession. So, knowing we now have it is going to piss him right off.”
“Ah, gotcha. Yeah, I reckon that’s going to spoil his day.” The idea seemed to amuse the man. “I’ll have them take him to an interrogation room and then I’ll escort you over there.”
While they waited for Marcus, they sat shooting the breeze, talking of this and that but nothing of consequence. Mentally, Larry prepared himself. With the history he and Marcus shared, he just needed to keep his cool, remember the goal.
A different guard from the one who’d met them appeared at the door.
“They’re ready for you, sir.”
Jim nodded to the guard before turning to Larry. “Well, gentlemen, shall we?”
They followed Jim down the hallways to the door of the room where Marcus waited for them. At the door, Larry took a moment to center himself. His and Marcus’s relationship had never been smooth, and it had steadily deteriorated over the course of his employment.
He didn’t expect this meeting to be an easy one, but he certainly hoped it would be a fruitful one.
With a curt nod, he indicated he was ready to go in.
“Good luck with that one,” Jim said, before turning to leave.
“Yeah, I reckon I’m going to need it,” came Larry’s rejoinder.
The guard opened the door, and Larry stepped into the room, Finn hot on his heels.
For the first time in years, Larry came face to face with his previous employer. And after all the time that had passed, the man’s arrogant smirk still got under his skin.
There was a beat of silence as he watched Marcus give them the once-over.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Deputy Director of the FBI, himself.”
Larry tucked his hands in his pockets. It was safer than the alternative. He clenched them against the urge to smash them into the other man’s face.
He pulled out a chair and settled himself, not saying a word.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Marcus asked, eyeing the papers Larry had placed on the table.
“Just thought I’d stop by for a bit of a chat, is all.”
Marcus snorted. “Yeah, and I’m considering joining the seminary. What do you want, Keon?”
“Hey now. Is that any way to treat an old friend?”
“You and me, we’ve never been friends. So how about we cut the bullshit and cut to the chase. You want something from me, or we wouldn’t be here.”
“All right, let’s cut the bull.” Larry eyed the man opposite him, trying to decide how best to approach the situation. He didn’t want to play his hand too early. He also didn’t want to spend more time in this hellhole than strictly necessary. “Tell me, Forrester, what do you know about Azteca Imports and Exports?”
“I have no idea who they are. Never heard the name before.”
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Giving the man a cold smile, Larry asked, “Sure about that?”
“Never heard of them,” Marcus repeated.
“See, now, I’m not so sure you’re being on the up-and-up with me there, Marcus. I’ve heard different.”
“I have no idea who they are or what you’re talking about. If that’s why you came to see me, you’ve wasted a trip.”
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you sure you don’t know who they are?”
Marcus shifted in his seat, breaking eye contact for a second. If Larry hadn’t been watching for some reaction, he wasn’t sure he’d have seen it. Yeah fucker, I’m on to you.
“I’ve told you already, and I’m not repeating myself. I can’t help you. And even if I could, I sincerely doubt I’d be so inclined.” He smirked, his eyes flat and cold.
Eyes that made Larry think of a shark. The man’s supercilious sneer had Larry’s blood pressure climbing. He was done messing around. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted Finn standing against the back wall observing. His man hadn’t said a word, but he knew he hadn’t missed a thing. Turning his attention back to the man sitting before him, Larry picked the papers up.
Selecting a single page, he placed it face down on the table and slid it over. At first, it seemed as if Marcus intended to ignore it, but, eventually, curiosity must have gotten the better of him. Larry watched as Marcus picked it up, the action awkward due to the chain securing him, and turned it over. Up to that point, Marcus had been pretty good at hiding his reactions. As a politician, he’d had plenty years of practice. But there was no hiding how his face paled as he began to read.
Larry waited until Marcus was done and had placed the paper back on the table.
“I’m going to ask you one last time. Are you sure you’ve not heard of Azteca Imports and Exports?”
For long moments, Marcus simply sat staring at the document on the table, not saying a word. His body was unnaturally still, as if he were too afraid to move lest he shatter or fall. Larry waited him out, hoping the man would give him something. Anything.
Trusting Laurence Page 4
