“What’s your real name?”
“What do you mean? I’m Steve Bosworth. I was just out for a hike when I stumbled on this place. I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Play dumb if you want to, but it won’t save your ass. We know that Copeland sent you here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do.”
When the black man finished speaking, he sneered while staring at the swastika tattooed on Ballou’s chest, at the top of his right pec. Ballou had been forced to get the tattoo when he joined the white power group in prison.
“Hey man, that tattoo don’t mean shit to me. I had to get it when I was in prison or my life would have been sheer hell. I’ve got nothing against you.”
The black man ignored him and moved over to the table. After looking down at the selection of tools he had, he shook his head in disapproval. One of his hands disappeared beneath the rain slicker. When it reappeared, it was holding a large knife with a serrated edge.
“I’ll take care of that tattoo by carving it right off you.”
Ballou struggled against the chains holding him to the chair. His efforts were useless. As the black man moved closer, he shouted out his real name.
“I’m Kent! My name is Kent. Nicole knows me. Tell Nicole that Kent from Port Haney, Florida, is here.”
The black man paused and lowered the knife. “You know Nicole personally?”
“I did, when we were kids in Florida. She’ll tell you that I would never come here to hurt her.”
Deep brown eyes gazed at Ballou with suspicion. “If you’re lying. I’m going to cut your tongue out before I kill you.”
“It’s not a lie. Talk to Nicole. Tell her that Kent from Florida is here. She’d be mad at you if you hurt me.”
“What’s your last name?”
Ballou shook his head. He wasn’t giving that up unless he had to. One of the men in the room might decide to turn him over to the cops in order to make points that they could cash in later. Nicole was the only one he could trust.
“Just tell her that Kent is here. She’ll know who I am.”
More staring, as the hand holding the knife gripped its handle tighter. The man’s other hand went beneath the rain slicker and came out with a phone. He made a call that was answered quickly.
“This guy says that he knows you.”
Nicole must have instructed the black guy to take a photo of him. He had used his phone to do so, then sent it off in a text.
Nicole appeared ten minutes later. She was even more beautiful than Ballou remembered. She was wearing a blue dress that reached her knees and wore shoes of the same color. Her hair was longer than Ballou recalled it being, but her large green eyes were the same, and Ballou felt his heart flutter when he gazed at her.
“Hello, Nicole.”
She stared at him while cocking her head. They hadn’t seen each other in over twenty years. He was bald, bearded, had circles under his eyes, and was undernourished from being on the run. He knew he looked a mess and nothing like the boy she had once known and loved.
Her face revealed displeasure as she took in the swastika tattoo. “The Kent I knew wasn’t a racist.”
“Like I told your friend, I only got it to survive in prison. I don’t give a damn what color someone is.”
“You haven’t had it easy, have you?”
“You could say that, but you’ve done all right.”
“Why are you here, Kent?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
Ballou shrugged as well as he could while bound to the chair.
“How did you find me?”
“I saw you on TV, at that ceremony for Teacher of the Year. It took a while, but I tracked you to Alabama.”
“What do you want?”
Ballou smiled. “I wanted to see you with my own eyes and know that you were all right.”
The smile caused a reaction in Nicole. Her shoulders lowered as she relaxed. She spoke to the black man.
“Free him from the chair, Marcus. He’s not here to harm me.”
“Are you sure about that? He had a gun on him.”
Nicole looked at Ballou. “Are you going to hurt me, Kent?”
“Never. You know that.”
“Free him, then bring him upstairs into the dining room.”
Nicole stared at him again before heading back upstairs. It was only then that Ballou noticed the sadness in her eyes.
“Nicole, is someone looking to hurt you?”
She pursed her lips before answering. “We’ll talk over coffee.” And then she was gone.
Marcus took out the knife again, leaned in, and held the serrated edge of the blade against his throat.
“If you hurt that lady, you’re going to wish that you were never born.”
Ballou met the menacing gaze. “I’d never hurt her; I love her.”
Marcus moved the knife away and backed up, not knowing what to make of Ballou’s statement.
The dining room took up more than a thousand square feet and there was a table in it that could seat twenty.
Marcus protested when Nicole wanted to meet with Ballou alone. She told him that she would be fine, and he stated that he would be right outside the door.
“If I hear a scream, I’m going to come in here and shoot you in the head. Do we understand each other, Kent?” The way the big man said Kent was close to how most people pronounced the word cunt. Ballou guessed that was intentional. He said nothing in response. Marcus grunted and pulled a set of ornate doors closed as he backed out of the room.
Nicole sat at the head of the long table where a carafe of coffee was resting on a silver tray with a pair of cups that had a flower pattern on them. She gestured for Ballou to take a seat at her right, then spoke as she poured the coffee.
“Kidnapping, armed robbery, and murder. You’ve come a long way from spray-painting police cars.”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone. The cops tied me to that, but I was innocent.”
“And the rest of it?”
“Yeah, that was me.”
“Hmm.”
Ballou’s eyes fell on the diamond ring Nicole wore. He’d seen marbles smaller than that diamond. “Where’s the man of the house… your husband?”
Nicole closed her eyes as she answered. “James is dead. He died of a heart attack in February.”
“I’m sorry you lost him.”
“So am I.”
Ballou gestured toward the doors. “What’s with all the armed security?”
“My husband ran this town. Now that he’s dead, there’s someone looking to take over.”
Ballou raised an eyebrow. “He ran the town? You mean like a mobster?”
“James was a businessman. He made sure people got what they wanted despite what the law might say about it. That included gambling, prostitution, weapons, and drugs.”
“Son of a bitch. I should have known that you wouldn’t have hooked up with some damn do-gooder. And now that he’s gone, someone is moving in on your turf?”
“His name is Gabe Copeland. He was my husband’s right-hand man. When James died, Copeland thought that he would step in and take over. I had Marcus explain to him that he was mistaken by having him beaten. I should have had Marcus kill him instead.” When she finished speaking, Nicole laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“You are. The way you affect me. I just confessed to you that I’m the head of a criminal organization. And when we were kids, you were the only one I ever told about how I like to start fires.”
“And you were the only one who knew I was the town vandal. And you can send me to prison anytime you want now that I’m on the run.”
“You were all over the news weeks ago after killing those Feds. Why the hell did you risk coming here, Kent?”
“I had to see you again while I could, at least once.”
“You make it sound like you’re dying.”
“I might as well be. It’s just a matter of time before the cops get me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going back to prison. I’d rather be dead.”
Nicole reached over and took his hand. “Don’t say that.”
Ballou felt his heart beat faster from the contact. Nicole still affected him like no one else.
“Where can I find this guy, Copeland?”
“Why do you want to know that?”
“Because I’m going to kill him for you.”
Nicole released his hand. “Kent, Copeland has as many men protecting him as I do; he might even have more. If he were easy to kill, I would have had Marcus do it.”
“You said that Copeland knows your operation. That means he knows Marcus and the other guys that work for you. He doesn’t know me, and he won’t see me coming until it’s too late.”
“Don’t you have enough trouble?”
“I do, and nothing to lose. Let me take a shot at the bastard. When I’m done, he’ll never bother you again.”
“Or one of his men might kill you.”
Ballou shrugged. “I’d rather die helping you than have some cop somewhere shoot me.”
“Why do you want to help me?”
“I still love you, Nicole. I know that must sound crazy to you, but It’s true.”
She looked away, then added cream to her coffee. After stirring the cup, she continued to ignore the brew.
“Did you ever marry, Kent?”
“No, not even close. And I spent a lot of years behind bars. It’s a little tough to meet women there.”
Nicole laughed, then her face became serious. “Do you know why I stopped calling you after we moved to Guam?”
“I figured you had met someone who made you forget all about me.”
Her eyes found his. “I never forgot you.”
“Then why did you stop calling?”
“My father died in a training flight when another plane collided with his. After that, my mom moved us back to Italy to be with her family.”
“Shit, Nicole. Why didn’t you call me and tell me about your dad?”
“What would have been the point? To make you feel sorry for me? At that time, we hadn’t seen each other for months, and I was sure then that I would never see you again. I figured if I stopped calling and let you go it would make it easier for you to find someone else.”
“And I’d thought that you found someone else.”
“I did come looking for you a few years later.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Your parents had moved by then, and when I talked to a neighbor, she told me that you were in prison for breaking into homes. She had no idea what prison you were in and when I tried to find out, I couldn’t.”
“I wish I’d known that. I would have come looking for you once I was released.”
“About a year after that I met James, and we married a few months later.”
Ballou looked around. “He must have been something else to have earned all this.”
“It wasn’t all from scratch. James came from money. He even had a business degree, but he liked walking on the wild side. I’m respected in this town, Kent. As James’ widow, I inherited all of his legitimate businesses too. That includes part ownership of a software company that makes millions.”
“That means you could go totally legit and get this guy Copeland off your back.”
“I won’t do that. James worked hard to build his illegal businesses. They were his and not something he inherited. I’m not going to let an asshole like Copeland take them over or scare me away. What’s mine is mine.”
Ballou leaned toward her. It reminded him of the first time he kissed her.
“Do you still start fires?”
“When needed. Arson pays well if you have the right insurance.”
Ballou reached over and took her hand. “If I can, I’m going to keep Gabe Copeland alive so that you can set his ass on fire.”
Nicole gave his hand a squeeze. “I would like that very much.”
Chapter 13
The Whites had a full house on Thanksgiving Day as the family gathered. Viola was there with her girlfriend, Marina, and White’s younger sister, Maggie, was home from Massachusetts. With Maggie was her boyfriend, Cole Renner. The two of them were seniors at Harvard.
Jessica’s brother and sister, Jimmy and Gabriella were present. Jimmy’s wife, Reina, was eight months pregnant with their first child. Jimmy had been an irresponsible child himself for most of his life but marrying Reina had matured him. He was doing well in a business of his own and had even paid back much of the money his sister had loaned him over the years. Gabriella, the youngest sibling, was dating a dentist named Lawrence. Jessica liked the man and thought that there was a chance her little sister might have finally found a man who was right for her.
Jessica’s father, Dr. James White was married to White’s birth mother, Amanda. The elderly couple spent much of their time with the young twins, Liam and Emma.
Friends of the family had been invited as well. Professor Tyler Davidson and his wife, Kari, along with Jace and Cassandra. Jace and Cassandra had married two years earlier and the young man was on his way to becoming a multi-millionaire as he continued to flip houses and grow his real estate business. Although Jace was no longer obligated to work for the government through Thomas Lawson, he occasionally lent a hand when asked. He would also work with PREY and had been the organization’s first male member.
When the temperature dipped into the teens two days earlier, White filled the completed ice-skating rink with water. The water froze within hours and the rink was ready to be used. The children bundled up after the holiday dinner and ventured onto the ice. Summer and Michael went with them, along with Violet, Viola, Marina, and Brandon.
Although it was still afternoon, it was dark. The bright lights that White and Brandon had strung up around the rink lit it up well. There were also wooden benches to rest on and a fire pit to lend warmth to those who needed it.
Marina turned out to be the star of the rink. She had grown up in Ottawa, Canada, and had spent many hours ice-skating on the Rideau Canal since she was a child. The canal stretched on for nearly five miles and was a tourist destination for many who loved winter sports.
In contrast, Michael had never skated on ice before. He fell on his butt often and laughed every time it happened. Summer had given Michael his first lesson, but it was the children who taught him to skate. Emma took one of her uncle’s hands while Samantha took the other and they guided him, while Liam followed along close behind and helped to keep his beloved uncle from falling. By the time he quit for the day, Michael had been able to skate slowly around the rink on his own.
In the late evening, with the kids asleep and their guests either gone home or retired to their rooms, Jessica and White settled on a love seat in the living room, where a log was crackling in the fireplace.
White was in a good mood. Although he was far from being a social creature by nature, having the family gather usually left him with a pleasant disposition and he had been smiling all day.
They sipped on wine and discussed the events of the day, as well as the upcoming Christmas holiday. They had plans to spend Christmas at their vacation home on Kitamura Key in Florida. The large house was cared for by their friends, Keri and Autumn. Autumn had been a homeless teen when she’d met Keri, who was in Florida looking for her missing daughter. Jessica met Keri and Autumn and had helped Keri with her search. Tragically, Keri’s daughter had been murdered. Her murderer was brought to justice with the Whites’ help and Keri stayed in Florida to become a caretaker of the vacation home.
Colonel Jack Beck, a man who had once been a government operative, also lived in the home. He and Keri had grown close after his only child, a daughter, went off to college, so Beck moved down to Florida to be close to Keri.
“Jimmy and Reina won’t be coming to Florida because she’ll be having the baby around that time,” Jessica said. “But Gabby and Lawren
ce can make it.”
“What about Carly and Michael?”
“They’re going to get back to me once Michael sees if he can carve out some time. His robotics company is growing so fast that he works long hours.”
“The last time we spoke he told me that he was looking for an assistant to take some of the workload off him.”
“I hope they make it down to Florida,” Jessica said. “We haven’t seen them in years, and we’ve never seen their little girl, Iris.”
Eventually, the conversation turned to their hunt for Kent Ballou. Lawson’s people had no luck connecting anyone in the news footage to Ballou. That was their initial attempt. Lawson promised that they would keep digging. If there was any truth in the story told by the Kirkpatrick brothers, then Lawson’s researchers would uncover it.
Sienna had made contact and asked if there was any progress. All they could tell her was that they were working on a lead and warned her not to get her hopes up.
“I know the odds against finding him after he’s been on the run for so long are low,” Sienna said. “And I want to thank you both again for agreeing to help.”
“We’ll find him,” White told her. “If not this year then maybe the next. But we will not quit until we find your husband’s killer.”
Before ending the conversation, Sienna asked them to call her the second they knew anything.
White could hear the sadness in her voice. She was facing another holiday season without her husband, while somewhere out there, Kent Ballou was enjoying himself.
“I don’t know what to do next if Lawson’s researchers come up empty again,” White said. “We could interview more of the men Ballou served time with, but I don’t think it would do any good.”
Past Imperfect Page 13