Bad Beat

by Robin Mahle

  He opened the first one with the name Eugene Vaughan as the subject header. He already knew a little about Vaughan, but the lieutenant was working on finding a connection to Silas Levin. And it seemed he’d found success.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. I knew it.” Ward leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re working for Dennis Ackerman, a known associate and co-conspirator of Silas Levin from back in the day.”

  Ward quickly opened the other email that had just arrived. This one was about the other man by the name of Anton Meisner. He began to read the report and shook his head. “Damn. So he’s got both of you here keeping tabs on Levin. Why? And why the hell would you take the kid? More importantly, what did you do with him?” He picked up the phone again. “Lieutenant, sorry to bother you again. Hey, I just perused the information you sent over. Now that we know there’s a connection to this Dennis Ackerman, what can you tell me about him, aside from his stint cheating at the World Series of Poker tourney back in 2013?” He paused to listen. “Uh-huh. And you feel pretty confident Levin was in on the deal but managed to make a clean getaway?” He shook his head. “I see. Any employment history on Ackerman? I sure would like to talk to someone who’s seen him recently.” Ward peered through his window and spotted Jacob pull into the lot. “Okay, well, thank you. We’ll keep working things on our end. Sure do appreciate the help. Speak soon.” He ended the call and made his way to the bullpen.

  “Jacob. What can I do for you? Didn’t expect to see you this afternoon. Riley’s not here, I’m afraid.”

  “I know she’s not. I just got off the phone with her.”

  “Okay, then. What’s going on?” He turned on his heel. “Why don’t we sit down in my office.”

  Jacob followed him and took a seat opposite Ward. “Riley thinks I need to speak to Silas this afternoon and tell him about Alex.”

  “She mentioned that to me. I can see the concern on your face. You’re worried. Frankly, I don’t blame you one bit.”

  “Look, Dan, I have no idea what I’ve stepped into. It certainly wasn’t intentional and now I’m trying to find my co-worker who wasn’t really a friend and I seem to be digging myself deeper into a hole.”

  “Forgive me, son, but you did say you wanted to help and that you were the only one who could.”

  “I did.”

  “Then what’s the problem besides getting cold feet, which by the way, son, doesn’t make you a coward or anything. Don’t want you to think that at all. You’re not one of us. And by that, I mean you’re not an officer of the law. You’re not trained for this regardless of what your past efforts have shown.”

  “I guess I felt that if I waited until the game tomorrow night and told Silas then, I’d be protected, you know? I don’t think he’d do anything in a room full of people during a so-called friendly card game.”

  “I take your point. Go on,” Ward said.

  “If I go in alone—today—what protections do I have?”

  “Are you asking me to send you in there armed?”

  “Maybe, yeah.”

  Ward pursed his lips until they turned white. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’d be hard-pressed to agree with you, with one exception.”

  “And that is?”

  “This boils down to Riley’s visions, doesn’t it? That’s why you want to go in armed.”

  “You and I both know she’s right more often than not about these things.”

  Ward nodded. “Yes, yes she is, but you also know they can manifest themselves out of her own fear of what’s to come. Not necessarily what will be.” He pushed back in his chair. “But I’ll tell you what. I’ll go with you on this front, so I’m going to make sure you’re protected. I have something I personally own. Can’t be police-issue, you understand that, right?”

  “Of course. Thank you, Dan. I’ll feel a whole lot better.”

  “I imagine that’s true. When are you planning on going in for a visit?”

  “As soon as we’re finished here.”

  “Then let’s get you saddled up.”

  The Crooked Horse had only just opened its doors in preparation for the Happy Hour crowd, which was due in at any moment. Jacob pushed inside and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting that was its trademark setting of the mood. He instinctively placed his hand atop the 9-millimeter tucked in the back of his jeans, beneath his white undershirt and the opened button-down shirt over top. The gun felt foreign to him as though he carried some sort of crutch. He supposed that was what this was, a crutch. Nevertheless, it was there as a means to provide protection in the event Silas Levin didn’t like what he had to say.

  Jacob spotted Silas behind the bar, setting up the glasses and top-shelf liquor, and made his approach. “Afternoon, Mr. Levin.”

  He spun around. “Jacob Biggs. What are you doing here? Wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow night, as per our arrangement.”

  “I needed to talk to you about something. Something I think could—will—impact your plans for tomorrow.”

  Silas, with his perfectly styled hair and slender physique, leaned over the bar top. His arms braced against it, revealing their well-toned shape. “Is that so?”

  “My friend, Alex, no one’s seen him in more than a day. Everyone’s starting to worry. His family, other co-workers, friends. And me. Which is why I’m here.”

  Silas pulled upright again and folded his arms, widening his stance. “You’re telling me he’s missing?”

  “It’s looking that way, Mr. Levin. I’m really concerned about him. Have you heard from him, by any chance?”

  “Why would he have reached out to me?”

  “I—I don’t know. I’ve been asking around, you know. But it seems he hasn’t been in contact with anyone. His wife’s getting pretty upset. They have two young kids.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that I shouldn’t expect to see him at the game tomorrow night. Is that what I’m hearing?”

  “Honestly, I’m really hoping he’ll turn up before then. Maybe he’s just gone out on some bender, I don’t know.”

  Silas nodded. “Well, you understand that just because he might not show his face doesn’t mean you aren’t still obligated to. We did have a deal.”

  “Yes, sir, I know that. I have every intention of holding up my end of the bargain. I’m just saying, without Alex, I don’t know how things will go down, that’s all.”

  “What about your girlfriend? She’s a cop, if I’ve heard correctly. Is she out looking for him?”

  Jacob felt his heart jump into his throat. He hadn’t known Silas was aware of his relationship and now telling him there was an active investigation just didn’t seem like a wise decision. But lying, well that could open up another can of worms. “I don’t know, actually. I didn’t want to make a whole thing of it.”

  “You didn’t? Then why on earth are you here?” Silas’s eyes bored into him, searching for the cracks in his story.

  “I thought you should know. That’s all. I didn’t want you to be caught off-guard tomorrow in the event he doesn’t show.”

  “I see. You were protecting me. That’s very kind of you, Jacob, but I don’t see this as a problem as such. I just see it as you’ll have to pick up the slack. I assume you can handle it?”

  “Of course. Yes. That won’t be a problem.”

  “Good. Then there’s nothing more to discuss. Tomorrow night, 10pm. I’ll see you then.” Silas wore a pleasant smile, but his eyes remained hardened and trained on Jacob.

  “See you tomorrow.” Jacob made his way to the exit.

  Silas watched as the door opened and light spilled into the bar. Upon the door closing again, he retrieved his cell phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Foster, sorry to bother you.”

  “No bother at all, Silas. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I wanted to be sure we were all on the same page. I seem to have a small situation brewing and I wanted you to know that our arrangement still stands.”
r />   “A situation? Something I should know about?”

  “You sure you don’t already know, Eli?”

  “I haven’t a God damn clue what you’re talking about, Silas. But you better check your tone.”

  “Sorry. No offense. I just wanted to touch base with you. Nothing changes. This minor hiccup will sort itself out on its own, I’m quite sure. You have a good day and I’ll see you soon.” He ended the call. “If it wasn’t you, then what the hell happened to the kid?”

  19

  The whereabouts of the stranger in the Camaro remained unsolved, though Ethan was hopeful the hotel manager would contact him should the man turn up at his establishment. It was the best shot they had to put a tail on him. Though it seemed clear he was there for Silas Levin, at least, according to Riley and her sixth sense, as it were.

  For now, however, as late afternoon arrived and the air grew oppressive, he stood on the front porch of Ellen Thompson’s home. The brief interlude to take Gracie to the bus depot only complicated Ethan’s emotional state. Riley and the rest of the team were back at the station, ready to pull an all-nighter, if necessary, to solve the case of the missing Alex Laughlin.

  The door opened and Gracie, with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a form-fitting tank top and shorts, appeared. “Hi. Come in. I’m just about ready.”

  Ethan stepped inside and noticed her bags sitting by the front door. He wished she wasn’t leaving. Maybe if she were to stay, his feelings for her would evolve with time. Of course, that was wildly unfair to her, but it wasn’t going to happen in any event. Gracie was a determined young woman with an amazing future ahead of her. He began to feel that future would not include him. “Afternoon, Ellen. How are you?”

  Ellen appeared from the kitchen, looking as though she was ready for bed. “Ethan, I appreciate you driving Gracie. I know how busy you are.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  “Riley said you all were going to be working late tonight. Does it have anything to do with that man who came into the diner for lunch today?”

  He shied away, peering down at his feet. “Well…”

  “You can’t say, can you?”

  “It’s best if I don’t. But please know that you’re safe and there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “I stopped worrying about myself a long time ago. But a mother never stops worrying about her children.”

  Gracie descended the stairs with a backpack slung over her shoulder. “Sorry about that. We should head out. Don’t want to miss the bus.”

  “Have a good evening, Ellen.” Ethan grabbed Gracie’s bags and stepped through the door.

  “Goodbye, baby.” Ellen reached around Gracie’s shoulders for a full embrace. “You call me when you arrive, okay?”

  “I will, Mom. I promise.”

  “I’m so proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much.”

  “With the help of my siblings. I’ll pay them back one day.” Gracie kissed her mother’s cheek. “Bye, Mom, I love you.” She caught up to Ethan outside.

  “All good?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  He opened the passenger door for her and closed it as she stepped in. The lid of the trunk was raised and he placed her bags inside, slamming it shut again.

  Gracie waited while he slipped into the driver’s seat and turned the engine. “Thanks for taking me, Ethan.”

  “You already thanked me, but you’re welcome.” He pulled away from the curb. “Did you say goodbye to your brother?”

  “I did, and the kids. I’ll miss all of them. Riley too.”

  He felt her eyes on him, studying him, trying to read his current state of emotions.

  “I wish things had been different between us, Ethan. I want you to know that.”

  “Different?” he asked without taking his eyes off the road.

  “Yes. I wish we’d connected on a deeper level. But it’s okay. It would’ve only complicated things. Long-distance relationships are hard enough without having a third-party involved.”

  This time, he turned his sights to her. “I told you, Gracie, there’s nothing between me and your sister.”

  “I know that. It doesn’t mean you don’t want there to be. And honestly, Riley would never admit it, but I think she likes having you to fall back on.”

  “What? Why would you say that?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “She’s with Jacob. She loves him.”

  “Yes. She loves him. They have history, but he broke her heart and I don’t think she has it in her to truly forgive him. The way we grew up, Ethan.” She shook her head. “Riley, all of us, had been put through the wringer. Mostly her because of—her gift. Which, by the way, I hate calling it that because it implies she wanted it or that it makes her special. She never wanted it. No one would ever want something like that. And now, with my half-brother…”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. My point is, forgiveness is a wonderful concept but difficult in practice. Riley needs you, Ethan. And for that reason alone, we could never have worked out.”

  Maybe she was right. Riley was going to keep him on a short leash not out of some egotistical need, but out of fear of losing Jacob. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair, and in all likelihood, she didn’t know she was doing it. Clearly, Gracie could see it. Perhaps Jacob could too. It wasn’t going to be a question Ethan would ever pose to him or Riley, for that matter. So what was the solution? Could he find another and force Riley’s hand? It was too much to think about right now. He was exhausted. They had a critical investigation to work on and his personal life had to be put on hold for the foreseeable future.

  “Here we are.” Ethan pulled into the parking lot of the bus depot and cut the engine. “I’ll get your bags from the trunk.”

  Gracie stepped out of the car and hoisted her backpack over her shoulder.

  With both bags in his hand, he started toward the entrance. “You ready?”

  “Right behind you.” She trailed a few steps and upon reaching the entrance, she jogged ahead. “Here, I’ll get the door. Your hands are full.”

  “Thanks.” Ethan walked inside and set down the bags in the waiting area. “I guess this is it.”

  “I guess it is.” She stood inches from him.

  “I do care for you, Gracie.”

  “I know you do.” She raised on her tiptoes and pressed her lips gently against his. When she pulled away, she continued. “Maybe in another life.”

  “Maybe,” he replied.

  Gracie rolled her bags toward the back of the depot and disappeared beyond the doors.

  Gage Parker pulled his car in front of the Crooked Horse and stepped outside. He surveyed the lot and nodded. “Business looks good.” He’d stopped by earlier in the day but didn’t spot Silas Levin, and after a quick drink, he made his way to the Ramada. Now in a fresh change of more casual attire, he’d returned in hopes of making his presence known to Mr. Levin. He tugged on his t-shirt and hiked up his Levi’s before sauntering into the bar. He pushed open the doors. “Well, well, well. Looks a little livelier in here now.” He made his way to the bar and perched on the edge of a stool.

  “What can I get for you, sir?” the bartender asked.

  “An old-fashioned with your finest bourbon, please.” Gage peered around. “I don’t suppose your boss is in now?”

  “Mr. Levin? He’s in the back. Let me get you your drink and I’ll go track him down.”

  “I’d appreciate that, thank you very much.” His toothy smile was bright enough to light a ten-foot radius around him.

  And just as the bartender had returned with the old-fashioned, Silas appeared.

  “Your ears must’ve been burning,” Gage said.

  “I’m sorry? Do we know each other?” Silas asked.

  “We run in similar circles.” He sipped on the drink. “Oh, now that is superb, my good man.”

  “Thank you.” The bartender turned to Silas with a concerned look o
n his face.

  “Similar circles, you say?” Silas approached him from behind the bar. “Who, might I ask?”

  “I’m pretty sure you know a man by the name of Foster. Eli Foster?”

  Silas’s face drained of color. “Sure. I know him. We’re business acquaintances.”

  “Business acquaintances. That’s one way to put it.” Gage captured his eyes and refused to let go.

  “He sent you, did he?”

  “Mr. Foster merely wants to be sure your arrangement is still good. You know, that you’re keeping everything running smoothly.”

  “I am indeed. And I’ve kept him abreast of my progress,” Silas replied. “I’ll tell you what, you be sure and let Eli know that on your way home, would you?”

  “Oh, I’m not going home just yet. This is a quaint little town you’ve got here. I think I’ll hang around for a day or two and see the sights.” Gage threw back the rest of his drink and firmly set the glass on the bar. With a pronounced licking of his lips, he boisterously declared, “Delicious.”

  Ethan’s thoughts were occupied with Gracie, that was, until he passed by the Crooked Horse on his way back to the station. He slowed his car and spotted the sleek black Camaro parked in front of the bar. “Holy shit. There you are.”

  He snatched his cell phone and dialed. “Hey. He’s here. Our Camaro guy is here at the Crooked Horse.”

  Riley pulled away the phone from her ear. “Captain, it’s Pruitt. He’s got a visual on the Camaro.”

  “Where?” Ward quickstepped to her desk.

  “The Crooked Horse.”

  “Okay,” Ward placed his hand on his chin. “Tell him to keep out of sight, but if the guy leaves, I want him to follow. We can’t afford to get sidetracked again.”

  Riley nodded and returned to the phone call. “Captain says to stay put and follow him when he leaves.”

  Ethan furrowed his brow. “Shouldn’t I go inside or something?”

  “No. That guy is going to wonder why the same cop who trailed him into the diner is now showing up at the bar. No. Captain’s right. This is our best chance to keep tabs on him this time and see where he goes next. Are you good with that?”