Hunted by the Mob

by Elisabeth Rees

  Her lawyer sat on the sofa, languishing with an elbow propped up on the armrest. “Louisa is understandably nervous after what happened with the exploding drone.” He regarded Goldie with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. “How many more times will my client be put at risk by the sloppy security provided by the FBI?”

  “Stop it, Willy,” Mrs. Volto admonished. “It was Goldie who was injured in the attack, not me. You can see she’s struggling to walk.”

  Willy’s gaze traveled to Goldie’s foot, held an inch off the ground, while she leaned against the wall, the towel now resting across her shoulders.

  “Agent Simmons is trained in close, personal protection,” he said dryly. “That means she should be able to mitigate the risks. Going outside with no gun and no means of defense was foolhardy, and you could’ve been killed, Lousia.”

  “I guess you’ll be asking for more money, huh?” Goldie said. “It’s always about the money with you, isn’t it?”

  “Someone is sending bombs raining down on my client’s property,” he said, eyeballing her. “And that makes me nervous. It also makes me wonder exactly how much money she’s going to need to make any necessary repairs to her house and yard. Only money can give her the best quality of life, so please excuse me for trying to secure the best possible deal.”

  Mrs. Volto, wearing a black jersey dress, walked to Goldie and took her hand. Her baby bump stretched across the fabric, making the dress ride up at the hem. For all her money, Goldie figured that Mrs. Volto could buy some decent maternity clothes, but maybe this was all part of the plan. A scared pregnant woman in a badly fitted dress would surely invoke the sympathies of the jury.

  “The drone bomb wasn’t intended for me,” Mrs. Volto said to her. “I’m not the one in serious danger here. You are.”

  Willy stood up and carefully smoothed the creases from his suit jacket. “Both Agent Cooper and Agent Phillips believe that these attacks are aimed at you, Louisa, so let’s not openly contradict them. Agent Cooper has his ear to the ground, and his informants all say the same thing—the bounty hunters have swallowed the story about Agent Simmons hiding out in New Mexico.” A wide smile spread across his face as Garth, himself, walked through the door with Zeke. “And here’s the man himself. I was just explaining to my client that Agent Simmons is perfectly safe here, isn’t that right?”

  “I believe so,” Garth replied. “My underworld contacts are rarely wrong about these things.”

  “Well, they’re wrong this time,” Mrs. Volto muttered, too quietly for anybody but Goldie to hear. “Because that thing wasn’t chasing me.”

  Goldie smiled, squeezed her hand, and an understanding passed between them, perhaps even crossing a line into friendship. In a surprising turn of events, it would appear that Mrs. Volto was becoming her ally.

  “If I can do anything to help, just let me know,” Mrs. Volto whispered. “Once the trial is over, I have plenty of money to employ our own security guards.” Without turning her head, she slid her eyes over to Garth. “Ones we can truly trust.”

  “Thank you for the offer,” Goldie whispered back. “But I don’t think it’s necessary.”

  “We’ll be leaving for court in one hour,” Garth said, adjusting the tie on his dark and somber suit. “So if you have any last minute preparations, you may want to do them now.”

  “Some tea is in order,” Willy said, taking Mrs. Volto’s hand and heading to the kitchen. “To banish those jitters.”

  “I’ll go wake Angela,” Garth said, turning to leave. “She’s not on the ball this morning.”

  Goldie put a steadying hand on Zeke’s shoulder and used him as a crutch, hopping to the armchair and lowering herself into it, raising her foot to rest it gingerly on the low table.

  “Angela is playing with fire by oversleeping like this,” she said. “It makes me wonder whether she’s really committed to doing a good job here.”

  “That’s my worry too,” Zeke said, sitting on the coffee table to be as close as possible. “I’ve been considering the possibility that she accessed the Volto records before being assigned to the case. Even though she was in New York at the time of Marsha’s attack, she might’ve used her high-level clearance to take a look at the case files and sell them to the Mafia.”

  Goldie thought of Angela, of her tendency to put her foot in her mouth and her sometimes ditzy ways. “My gut tells me she’s not betraying us. She might be a sloppy agent, but she’s not a traitor.”

  “So how did the drone operator know when to strike?” Zeke asked. “How did he know that it was you out there in Mrs. Volto’s blue coat? How does he know you never left Pennsylvania, but stayed right here in Gladwyne?”

  “I don’t know, Zeke. We have no concrete evidence that I was even the target.” She checked around the door and dropped her voice. “Although even Mrs. Volto now thinks that the attacker is a bounty hunter looking to pick up the two-million-dollar reward. She offered to pay for outside security guards to keep me safe.”

  “She did?” Zeke leaned in closer, forearms on knees. “Does that mean she doesn’t trust everybody on this assignment?”

  “It sure looks that way. I’m not sure that she places a lot of faith in Garth’s gangland contacts. And she seems to want to be friends with me.”

  The smell of Zeke’s aftershave was hanging faintly in the air between them, an aroma that had now become as familiar as her own perfume. The citrusy scent was comforting and calming, like a warm blanket enveloping her body after she came in from the cold. If she didn’t leave this house soon, she was in danger of losing herself in him again. And that was a really bad idea.

  “I guess Mrs. Volto’s experience of the criminal world makes her suspicious,” Zeke said. “She’s been surrounded by liars and thieves and cheaters for a long time, and she’s smart enough to realize that their information isn’t always truthful. But she seems to trust you.”

  “I don’t think she’s such a bad person after all,” Goldie said. “Her lawyer is shady, but she’s only trying to create a good life for her child. I can’t fault her for that.”

  “I certainly don’t disagree that Willy Murphy is shady,” Zeke said. “And I have no idea what Mrs. Volto sees in him.”

  “Willy is her safety net.” Goldie had a much more acute understanding of why Mrs. Volto was drawn to the powerfulness of her lawyer. “When a person is vulnerable, they look for a protector, someone who’ll take care of them and chase away the bad guys. It’s hard carrying a burden alone.” She closed her eyes. “It’s so much easier to share the load with someone who won’t crumble under the strain, someone strong and capable.”

  She opened her eyes, stopping herself from adding, someone like you.

  Zeke was gazing at her, apparently reading between the lines. “Is that how you feel sometimes?”

  “Me? Of course not.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t need anyone to chase away the bad guys.” She made a fist. “I can do that all by myself.”

  He smiled. “It doesn’t hurt to have a little help though, right?”

  “Help is fine,” she replied. “As long as it doesn’t tread on my toes.”

  He laughed. “Trust me, Goldie, your toes are safe with me.”

  * * *

  Zeke watched Goldie as she browsed one of Mrs. Volto’s interior design magazines at the kitchen table, slowly and methodically turning the pages while drinking her coffee. She looked so calm and serene that he could almost forget she was the subject of a two-million-dollar bounty hunt. What’s more, he could almost imagine that she hadn’t built up an impenetrable inner wall, one that shielded her from emotional pain and pushed away all forms of love, even those that would heal her wounds.

  Still focusing all her attention on the magazine, she said, “Why are you staring at me?”

  He quickly averted his eyes. “I’m not staring. I just thought you hated those mag
azines, that’s all.”

  She put down her coffee cup. “Come on, Zeke, spit it out.”

  “Spit what out?”

  “Whatever’s on your mind.”

  “I was just thinking,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter, folding his arms. “That someone as beautiful as you would normally think highly of herself. But you don’t. You put yourself last all the time, and I don’t know why that is.”

  “I don’t put myself last,” she argued.

  “Yes, you do,” he said. “When we have dinner, you always make sure everybody gets served before you, and you’re the first one to clear away the dishes. When Angela couldn’t sleep because of her headache last night, you gave her your last two painkillers even though I knew you’d need them for your ankle. You put everybody else’s needs above your own.”

  “It’s called humility, Zeke,” she said with a terse smile. “I guess you wouldn’t understand.”

  He wasn’t buying it. “It goes deeper than humility. It’s like you don’t feel entitled to have good things, or to be special in any way.” He walked toward her. “But you are special, Goldie, you really are.”

  “Cut it out,” she said sharply. “I don’t want to talk about me.”

  He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to push her further emotionally than she was prepared to go.

  “I’m here if you ever want to talk,” he said with what he hoped was a supportive tone. “I’m a good listener.”

  “What I really want from you is the one thing you’re not prepared to give,” she said. “So your offer to be a good listener is moot.”

  He realized that Goldie would never appreciate his point of view if he didn’t start sharing more personal details with her. He needed her to know why he was so resistant to her request for an apology.

  “About three years ago, I was part of a great church,” he said. “It was like a family where I was loved and supported.”

  She looked up at him. “Is this relevant to anything?”

  “Something bad happened at that church, which threatened to unsettle the whole dynamic, so I chose to keep the peace. I chose to accept responsibility for something that wasn’t my fault, and I’ve regretted it ever since. If I’d been stronger, I’d still be part of that church and the outcome would’ve been different for me.”

  “Are you finished?” She returned her attention to her magazine, slowly turning the pages. “Great story, Zeke.”

  “I’m trying to tell you that false apologies don’t make anything better.” He sighed. “You need to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “I understand where you’re coming from,” she said. “I just don’t agree.”

  In the background, the front door opened and raised voices echoed through the house, interspersed with a low and mournful cry. Zeke recognized Karl’s voice first. And it was furious.

  “Go pack your things and be ready to leave in one hour,” he said. “You’re officially discharged.”

  “But sir, it was an emergency.” Angela was obviously upset. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  Zeke and Goldie exchanged a glance of confusion and concern before rushing into the hallway to find out exactly what was going on. There in the wide and gleaming foyer were Karl, Garth and Angela. Meanwhile, Mrs. Volto and Willy were making their way upstairs, the lawyer muttering about a lack of professionalism and a likely claim for compensation.

  “What happened?” Zeke asked, noticing Angela crying quietly.

  Karl was agitated and angry. “Agent Martin disappeared for a whole hour while Mrs. Volto was waiting to take the stand this afternoon. She caused a widespread panic as we searched the entire courthouse for her. We thought she’d been kidnapped, or worse.” He refused to look at her as he spoke. “We found her outside in the parking lot on her cell phone.” He threw his hands into the air. “On her cell phone!”

  “I’m so sorry,” Angela said through her tears. “My son is having problems with an addiction, and he needed my help. I was trying to counsel him through a dark moment.”

  “Your priority is Louisa Volto,” Karl shouted. “Whatever personal problems you might be having are not our concern. This is your second lapse in judgment, and we simply cannot tolerate your poor performance any longer.” He sagged, as if expended of energy. “You’re off the case.”

  Angela gave a small nod of acceptance and headed for the stairs, wiping her eyes, while Zeke struggled to keep up with yet another surprising turn of events.

  “Mrs. Volto needs two protection agents, sir,” he said. “Will you be acting as a replacement?”

  Karl rubbed at his forehead, sighing. “I wish I could, but it’s my job to oversee the entire security detail, both inside and outside the courthouse. I can’t dedicate all my time to Mrs. Volto.”

  “But she’s due in court early tomorrow. Do you have time to source somebody else?”

  “No,” Karl replied. “We’re gonna need you to step into Angela’s shoes for the time being, Zeke.”

  “But what about Goldie? She’s been coming under attack.”

  “As far as Agent Phillips and I are concerned, Goldie’s situation here is safe and stable, and she can be protected by two police officers while you’re gone.”

  “But...” he began.

  “No buts, Zeke.” Karl strode past him, punching numbers into his cell phone. “I expect you to follow orders.”

  Zeke leaned against the wall as Goldie shrugged in resignation. She might not be worried about her safety, but he sure was. He would no longer be there when danger struck. Police officers weren’t as highly trained as agents, and they didn’t know Goldie like he did.

  She might be driving him to distraction, but he still wanted to be by her side. If it didn’t sound so crazy, he would say that what he felt for her was a lot like love.

  SIX

  Standing at the hallway mirror, Zeke straightened his tie and flattened his collar, feeling distinctly uncomfortable in his dark suit on this hot morning. The sun had just risen in a cloudless sky, but he’d been awake for two hours already, unable to sleep for worrying about Goldie’s serious situation that day. Who would be protecting her? Would she be safe without him? How could he possibly rid his stomach of this swirling acid anxiety?

  “Good morning, Agent Miller.” Karl was trotting down the stairs, in his usual navy-blue pants and white shirt. “You’re up early. It’s great to see that you’re so eager to start today’s assignment.” He placed an earpiece on the table next to the mirror. “You’ll need this. We’ll be traveling in two cars to the courthouse, and you’ll be driving the leading vehicle while Garth drives Mrs. Volto in the one behind. You remember all the security protocols for transporting a high-value witness, right?”

  “Of course.” Zeke took a deep breath, realizing that Karl was under a lot of stress and unlikely to take kindly to any kind of dissent. Careful words were needed. “I’m still worried about Goldie, sir.”

  Karl put a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “I’ve got the best Philadelphia police officers assigned to stay with her until we return from court.”

  “You do?”

  “Absolutely. Officers Brandon Diaz and Leon Moss are two of the most experienced and well-trained officers in the Philly PD. They’ve worked plenty of classified cases before, so we can trust them implicitly.”

  “Isn’t Officer Diaz the person who got tied up and locked in the garage when Marsha Volto gained access to the house?”

  “Yes, he is, but that was hardly his fault. He was ambushed, and Goldie failed to check the credentials of the person standing guard. If she’d only looked at the ID badge, she’d have immediately realized that Marsha Volto was the wrong gender to be Brandon Diaz. He is a good officer with an exemplary record.” A knock sounded on the door. “Ah, here they are now. Right on time.”

  While Karl greeted the
uniformed officers with hearty handshakes, Zeke reminded himself that he needed to obey orders and deliver the highest standard of professionalism in order to remain on the case. A car had collected Angela the previous evening and taken her to the train station to make the journey back to Washington, where she would face a disciplinary panel. Zeke didn’t want to end up in the same boat.

  “Good morning, Officers,” he said, smiling and shaking hands. “I want to thank you for stepping in and protecting Agent Simmons today. I’m sure you’re already aware of her situation.”

  “I have to admit that I was amazed when we were told she’d never left Gladwyne,” Officer Moss said, removing his hat and jacket to hang them in the closet. “The guys on the force assumed she was a million miles away from here.”

  “It’s a neat little trick,” Officer Diaz said with a wry smile. “There’s no way that Leonardo Volto would’ve expected her to hide out in his own wife’s house, right under his nose.” He laughed. “I gotta say, it’s a genius idea.”

  “It’s actually a necessity,” Karl said. “Due to the concern about a leak somewhere in the chain of command, we’re concerned about moving Agent Simmons to a new safe house. That’s why we drafted you two onto the case. You both have a proven record in maintaining secrecy on cases like this, so you’re now officially part of a very exclusive club. Only a handful of the most trusted people are aware that Agent Simmons is here, so let’s keep it that way.”

  They answered in unison. “Yes, sir.”

  “Make yourselves at home,” Karl said, striding off down the hallway. “Zeke and Garth can answer any questions you have.”

  While Officer Moss made his way into the living room, Officer Diaz let out a low whistle, checking out the ornamental mirrors, glittering overhead chandelier and curved staircase. “I guess crime does pay, huh, Agent Miller?”

  From the corner of his eye, Zeke saw Goldie emerge into the upstairs hallway, and he quickly steered the wide-eyed officer to the side, speaking quietly.