Ruthless Cross

by Barbara Freethy

  He'd slept dreamlessly, not waking up until after nine, when his phone had started buzzing with texts. That's when he'd seen the empty side of the bed, when he'd heard the intense quiet that he'd always liked about his home…until this morning.

  She hadn't left a note, either. But the few things she'd had at his place were gone. She must have called a car to take her home.

  He'd wanted to drive her there, maybe take her to see her mom. But it was too late now.

  Maybe it was just as well. He had a ton of work to do to wrap up the case.

  But, somehow, he didn't think work would take his mind off Callie. There was too much he still wanted to say to her. Everything felt upended, and he didn't like it.

  A small voice inside his head reminded him that he was usually the one who left before the other person was ready, but that didn't make him feel any better.

  When he arrived at his building, he pulled into the underground lot, and then headed upstairs.

  He was surprised to see Beckett in his office. The ex-Army Ranger was seated in front of his computer, looking decidedly weary, his dark eyes bloodshot, his cheeks scruffy, and his skin pale. He'd been out of touch for almost a week and while Flynn appreciated his dedication to work and his undercover assignment, now he was worried. "You look like shit," he said.

  "I feel that way, too," Beck replied. "I've been up for seventy-two hours straight, but it was worth it. We caught the traffickers on Highway 5 outside of Sacramento. Ten young women are now back with their families."

  "Good work." He knew how hard Beck and Jax had been working on bringing down a trafficking ring that operated between San Diego, Los Angeles and San Francisco. "I didn't realize you and Jax were that close."

  "We caught a break. Jax is tying up the loose ends. He'll be back later today." Beck sat back in his chair. "I hear there's been a lot of excitement around here."

  "I filled him in," Savannah interjected as she came into the office holding a mug of coffee in one hand and a protein bar in the other. "Not the part about you and Callie, but, you know, the rest of it," she added with a mischievous smile.

  Beck raised an eyebrow. "Now that sounds like the part I'm most interested in, Flynn."

  "Nothing to say," he replied tersely, kind of wishing there was something to say, which was unusual for him. "I need to get down to the hospital. I just wanted to check in here first. I've been a little out of touch the last few days."

  "We're still operating like a well-oiled machine," Savannah said. "Bree and Wyatt are meeting with someone at Vector Air. One of Wyatt's buddies from Novastar is now at Vector and wants to talk to him about a potential problem with a Chinese investor. Caitlyn is still in DC with her family. I'm not sure what Diego is up to, but Lucas is digging into Marcus Vitelli's life to see if we can fill in some of the blanks. By the way, Damon asked that you check in at his office after you see Marcus, and I'd like to tag along to your interview with Vitelli, if you don't mind."

  "Absolutely. Get some sleep, Beck."

  "I plan on it," Beck replied. "I'll catch up with you later."

  As they headed down to the garage, Savannah said, "Sorry, Flynn."

  "What are you apologizing for?" he asked, as he flipped the locks on his SUV.

  "That crack about Callie. I knew I'd struck a nerve when you got all serious. You never get quiet like that—not about women anyway."

  He got into the car, thinking about her comment. "It's fine. I'm just tired."

  "For what it's worth, I like her."

  He gave her a smile. "I like her, too."

  "So, what are you going to do about it?"

  "I have no idea. I've always flown solo. It's what I do best. I also have no idea what she wants."

  "Maybe you should find out."

  "Maybe." But as he drove onto the freeway, he started thinking that Callie leaving without a word had already told him all he needed to know. "By the way, thanks for keeping things running at the office. I appreciate your support and your backup."

  "No problem. That's what we do for each other. One of these days, I'll need your backup, and you'll be there for me."

  "I will."

  "Callie told me about your dad showing up. That must have been something."

  "I can't even describe how it felt to see him again, to talk to him. It almost seems surreal to me."

  "He came out of the dark to help you. That's something."

  "It doesn't make up for everything he did. But it is something. And he did help me find Callie. He was the one who figured out where she was being held."

  "And he was the reason you didn't want me or Wyatt to come there, not until it was almost too late."

  "I didn't want to put you in a difficult position," he admitted.

  "Because one of us might have actually seen him leave or tried to stop him. I get it, Flynn. Damon gets it, too. But since you and Callie both mentioned your father's name in your statements, I suspect you're going to get some flak from the higher-ups."

  "Probably, but I'll deal with whatever happens."

  "You had to do what you had to do," she murmured. "Sometimes the lines are blurry."

  "More often than not," he agreed. Hearing something in her tone, he glanced over at her. There was a contemplative expression in her eyes. "Everything all right with you?"

  "Oh, it's fine, just some personal stuff."

  "If you ever want to talk..."

  "I know, but not now. Let's focus on Mr. Vitelli."

  At her words, his mind moved to Marcus. He had a lot of questions for Victoria's son. Hopefully, he'd finally get some answers.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  When they arrived at the hospital, they found a security guard posted outside Marcus's room. They showed their badges and entered the room. Marcus was in bed, one leg casted and propped up on a pillow on the bed. His left arm was shackled to the rail.

  He gave them a tired, defeated look. "I already said everything."

  "Then you'll say it again," he returned. "This is Agent Kane."

  "I know. I talked to her at the museum last Friday."

  "After you shoved Arthur over the railing."

  Marcus stared back at him. "You still have to prove that."

  "That won't be difficult now. You made a lot of mistakes Marcus, and your pal Greg is already talking. Oh, yes, we found him and he's under arrest for attempted murder. He wants to save himself, as I'm sure you do. The list of charges against you will be quite long before we're done. It might get shorter if you're willing to talk about your mother."

  "My mother," he spat out. "She tried to kill me. You saw how crazy she was. She's the person responsible for all this."

  "When did you find out you were adopted?"

  "Six years ago, when I was eighteen. My adoptive mother was very sick. She confessed that I was adopted right before she died. I found Victoria about eight months later. She said she was happy to see me, but I could never tell anyone about our relationship. If I honored her request, she would help me get my art career going."

  "Which she did. You were an instant success."

  "She helped me sell my first painting," he admitted. "She also arranged for Judge Corbyn to become my benefactor. But he was putting a lot of pressure on me. I couldn't paint fast enough for him. He threatened to withhold money if I didn't produce."

  "Victoria said you were a fraud. You were copying other people's work."

  "Only a few times when I was blocked, and I needed cash," he said defensively. "I didn't think Arthur would figure it out, but he did, and he threatened to destroy me."

  "So you killed him."

  "I didn't say that," he muttered, still trying to hang on to some defense.

  "How did you know about the belladonna painting? When did your mother tell you she was a serial killer?"

  "Six months ago. She was drunk, and she wanted to show me some of her work. She pulled out the painting, and I, of course, knew the legend. But I didn't really know the ins and outs of it until she
started talking. I was impressed and terrified. She said she had only killed people who deserved to be punished. Each one had not only wronged her, but they'd wronged someone else. She had the power to make them pay, so she did."

  "Did she tell you the specific reasons?"

  "I remember the first one. She wanted to get Rafael's endorsement, his patronage, so she'd shown him her painting, the belladonna. He told her she was an amateur and she would never be good or famous. Her anger simmered for years. She plotted the best way to take him down and then she found out he was cheating on his wife. He was a pig; that's what she told me. She sent him the painting with a note that she was coming for him. Two hours later, he was dead. She got her revenge and the painting back."

  "And the others?" Savannah asked.

  "I don't remember the details. I'm in a lot of pain."

  "So you decided to copy her when you went after Arthur. How did you set that up?" he asked.

  "Why should I tell you?"

  "Because I'm the only one who can help you."

  "Why would you help me?"

  He shrugged. "Maybe I appreciate the fact that you had a criminal for a mother."

  Marcus met his gaze. "Like your father?"

  "Exactly. Tell me what happened. How did you set Arthur Corbyn up?"

  Marcus hesitated and then said, "I stole the painting from my mother, and I sent it to Arthur's house."

  "What day was that?"

  "Wednesday morning. I wanted him to sweat, to wonder what might be coming. On Friday afternoon, I texted him a note to meet me at the museum, on the top floor hallway, just as the exhibition was starting. I told him that I would keep his secret of buying stolen paintings if he showed up. When Arthur arrived, I had a waiter hand him a glass of champagne while he was waiting. He drank it all the way down, and when I walked down the hall, he could see the truth in my eyes. But he couldn't move. I loosened his belt, so it would look like he'd been having sex with someone. Then I shoved him over the railing."

  "What about the security cameras? Who hacked into the system?"

  "A hacker who goes by the name Dreambuster. I don't know who he is. I bought his services on the internet. I actually used Arthur's money to buy the hack."

  "He tripped the cameras at Arthur's house as well?"

  "Yes."

  "How was Eddie Norman involved?"

  "He was someone I knew would do anything needed for a little cash. I sent him to get the painting back, but he couldn't find it in the judge's house."

  "How did he find the Palm Springs home?"

  "He followed you and Callie. We hoped you'd lead us to the painting."

  Marcus's answer made him grimace with disgust that he'd allowed that to happen. "When Eddie didn’t get the painting, you killed him."

  "Actually, I didn't. That was my mother. She was on to me, and when she realized her painting was missing, she knew I'd taken it and she guessed that I'd killed Arthur. She was furious that I hadn't gotten it back and when Eddie failed, he became a loose end."

  "Then your next move was to kidnap Callie."

  "I thought my mother might kill me if I didn't get the painting back. It was the only way I knew how to do it." Marcus gave him a questioning look. "How did you find the warehouse?"

  "My father identified it by the picture you took."

  "There was nothing identifiable in that photo."

  "The light through the stained glass made a pattern on the floor. There was a picture frame in one corner. Those are the details a true artist might notice, or a master art thief who had been in the building before."

  Marcus shook his head. "I didn't see that coming."

  "You didn't see a lot of things coming."

  "But you're going to help me, right? You said we're the same—children of criminals."

  "We're not the same. I don't cheat or lie or kill. That's all on you, Marcus." He paused. "Actually, we do have one thing in common. We can both lie to get what we want. I'm not going to help you. The courts will decide how you pay for your crimes."

  "I can turn on you. I can tell everyone that your father was there," Marcus said desperately.

  "They already know, Marcus. You have nothing left to barter."

  "It's not like Arthur was a saint. He was buying stolen art through the Vales' gallery. Arthur was a criminal, too. I didn't kill a good person."

  "Save your story for the jury. And in the meantime, get yourself a good lawyer. You're going to need it."

  He tipped his head to Savannah and they walked out of the room.

  Pausing in the hall, she said, "Well, that was quite a story. All the puzzle pieces finally fell into place."

  "He might have gotten away with it if he hadn't used his mother's painting, if she hadn't gotten angry with him. That's when he got careless. In some ways, they took each other out."

  "Good riddance to both of them. And nice work on getting him to talk."

  He shrugged. "It won't hold up in court, but knowing what we do, we can build a good case. I'm sure Greg Barkley will be happy to make a deal and throw Marcus under the bus. Same with Gretchen and Stephen Vale. They'd rather own up to theft than murder. And we'll see if Lucas can find the hacker named Dreambuster."

  "We're going to be busy for a while."

  "We are," he agreed, as they headed for the elevator. But maybe busy was just what he needed to take his mind off Callie.

  "I hope you have good news for me, Callie," Juliette said.

  She walked over to the small table where her mother was seated. Taking the chair across from her, she said, "I have very good news."

  "I'm going home?"

  "Actually, I don't know about that yet. The nurse said Dr. Clarke would be in this afternoon to make that decision."

  Her mom's face fell. "I'm tired of waiting for him. I want to go home."

  "I know. But let me tell you the news. They found Arthur's killer."

  "They did? Who was it?"

  "It was Marcus Vitelli."

  Her mom blinked in surprise. "Marcus? But Arthur was helping Marcus. He was his benefactor. Victoria will be shocked. She thought he was amazing and brilliant and talented."

  "Victoria knew what Arthur did, Mom, maybe not right away, but eventually."

  "How would she know?"

  "Because Marcus wasn't just Victoria's protégé—he was her son."

  Her mom's jaw dropped. "I don't understand. She didn't have children, and certainly not one that old."

  "Marcus was twenty-four. Victoria had him when she was sixteen. She gave him up so she could have the career she wanted. He tracked her down when he was in his late teens. I don't know all the details, but Victoria gave him opportunities to get ahead."

  "I can't believe this. Is Marcus under arrest? What about Victoria?"

  "Marcus is under arrest. As for Victoria, it's a long story, Mom, and I don't want to get into it all now, but she was also a killer. She committed murder several times in her life."

  "This is nuts," her mom said, shock in her eyes. "She's a museum director."

  "She was that, but she was also mentally ill. There was a big confrontation yesterday. Marcus ended up shot, and Victoria is dead."

  Her mother put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. "She's dead? Who killed her?"

  "She committed suicide. She knew that she was going to be caught."

  "This is unbelievable, Callie. And people say I'm the crazy one."

  "You're not crazy, but Victoria was."

  "Well, I guess if she was that bad of a person, I shouldn't be sad or upset about her death. I just think of all the lunches we shared as friends. I never would have guessed she was hiding a secret life or that she even had the capability to kill anyone."

  "She was very good at putting on a front." She drew in a breath. "I'm afraid thatArthur had secrets as well."

  "The stolen art. His name will be ruined, won't it?"

  "I think so. The press will be hounding you for interviews. It's not going to be
easy, Mom. Especially not while Marcus's trial is going on. Other things may come out that could be hurtful. You need to prepare yourself."

  Her mother stared back at her. "You're choosing your words very carefully. What else am I going to find out, Callie?"

  She really didn't want to answer, but what choice did she have? "Arthur had an affair with Layana Vazquez."

  "The portrait artist? That's why you were asking me about her the other day. She's a child. How could he sleep with her?"

  "She's not a child. She's in her thirties."

  "And he was in his sixties. I was right about my suspicions. I thought it was Gretchen…" Her mom stopped abruptly. "Was he sleeping with her, too?"

  "Not that I know of. I believe she was selling him the stolen art."

  "Well, I guess I wasn't being paranoid."

  She was a little surprised and relieved that her mother hadn't burst into tears or collapsed in a heap of despair. "Your instincts were right. I'm sorry I didn't offer you more support in that regard."

  "I've been wrong before, and you knew that. You probably also didn't want me to find out the truth. You always try to protect me."

  "I do try, but sometimes I can't. I can't change what Arthur did. I can only help you move forward. And I hope you can find a way to do that, because he isn't worth losing the rest of your life over. Maybe that sounds harsh, but it's the way I feel. I don't care about him anymore. I care about you. I want you to be healthy and happy. You deserve that. I know you loved Arthur and I think he loved you, too, but he's gone."

  Her mom slowly nodded. "I do deserve to be happy. Dr. Clarke and I have been talking a lot about my issues with self-esteem, my inability to forgive myself for your father's death, for not being a better mother to you. I have so much guilt, Callie. I hope I can make it up to you some day."

  "If you're happy, you will have made it up to me."