Fatal Cover-Up

by Lisa Harris

“He’s willing to help out, but he’s stuck down south working a case and can’t get away for at least forty-eight hours.”

  “And your boss? What does he say?”

  Joe frowned. “I haven’t talked to him today.”

  “Maybe you need to. Maybe he could send someone else. Because clearly someone wants you off this case. And next time you might not end up in the emergency room. You—or I—could end up in the morgue.”

  *

  The sun had just set over the medieval city as Joe walked through the train station next to Talia a few hours later, tickets in his hand for the next train to Venice. He hoped he’d made the right decision. He glanced at her solemn expression beside him. He knew she was scared. And he couldn’t blame her. The past twenty-four hours had taken a toll on both of them, physically and mentally. But he had no intention of pulling out. Not yet. The memory of his brother’s death still lingered too freshly in his mind, along with the all too real threats she was facing. He didn’t want to risk Talia’s life, but he needed answers and this was the only way he knew how to get them. “You still sure about this?” she asked as she took the tickets and validated them before they headed for the train.

  He ignored the fatigue running through him. “What I am sure about is that we don’t have a lot of options at this point.”

  She glanced at his bandaged arm. “And if they’ve managed to follow us onto this train again?”

  “If you’re wondering if I can still take them down—” he shot her a smile “—you’d be surprised what I can do with only one good arm.”

  She gave him a smile as she headed toward the doors of one of the train cars. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  “The pain’s tolerable. I’ll be fine.”

  “You just need to make sure you keep taking your pain medicine so you can keep it under control.”

  He nodded, but he’d rather tolerate the pain then down a bunch of pain medicine that kept him from functioning. He needed to be completely alert and not let his guard down.

  He couldn’t let her sidetrack him, either, because as far as he was concerned, Talia was a distraction. A big one. And one that had him wondering while sitting in the emergency room what it would be like to let his heart feel again. It was something he hadn’t considered for so long, but there was something about her that had made him what to get to know her better. To see if those initial sparks he’d felt were ones that could turn into something deeper.

  But that was a place he wasn’t going to allow himself to go. He’d sensed the interest in her eyes as they’d walked along the Arno River. Felt it deepen the moment when he’d almost leaned downed and kissed her. But that would have been a mistake. Mixing the high intensity of his job with a relationship. He couldn’t go there.

  He reined in his thoughts and studied the train platform, his senses on high alert. A family of four—clearly tourists—struggled with too many suitcases. A handful of businessmen and students, a couple of families… This wasn’t about his feelings for Talia. It was about finding who’d killed his brother. And about ensuring Talia’s safety. Nothing more. Nothing less. And that frame of mind was where he planned to stay. The lives of both of them depended on it.

  They stepped onto the train. They’d disposed of the tracking device, but he still searched for anyone who looked either familiar or suspicious. He wasn’t about to take any chances.

  “Heard from your brother-in-law yet?” he asked, slipping into his seat.

  “It keeps going straight to voice mail, which is strange. I’ve left a couple of messages. Not sure there’s much more I can do at this point.”

  Joe’s phone rang as Talia sat down beside him.

  “Joe, this is Antonio Esposito. I’ve been working with the local police regarding the shooting, but I wanted to find out personally how you were doing.”

  His hand went automatically to his injured arm. “It’s been a bit crazy today.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just sore, and have to watch for infection, but fortunately the doctor was able to repair most of the damage.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “On my way to Venice.”

  “Wait a minute…you were just shot and the doctor let you leave?”

  “I can be pretty persuasive.”

  “Stubborn is more like it. You shouldn’t be out there, Joe. I might be able to get away in the next day or two and take over the case—”

  “We don’t have a day or two. And there’s no doubt that whoever is behind this is serious. I wouldn’t be doing this if I couldn’t handle it physically. But we need to put an end to this.”

  “They might be serious, but they’re also desperate. A shooting in broad daylight?”

  “What do you know about that? Have they found the gunman?”

  “Not yet, but they’re going to make a mistake. I’ve made sure that the police know what’s going on. They’re going to find whoever did this.”

  “There’s another reason I called. I’ve got some more information on the man who broke in to Signora Morello’s apartment. Matteo Arena.”

  “What have you got?”

  “He’s been in and out of prison over the past few years, mainly for theft and a couple of assaults.”

  “Has he told you who hired him?”

  “No. Only that he was to follow Signora Morello and ensure she found the paintings.”

  “Why grab her bag at the Colosseum?”

  “He said he thought she’d changed her mind when she headed toward home and away from the meeting place. He didn’t want to risk losing them if they were on her. As soon as I can get free, I’m planning to see what I can get out of him.”

  “Call me if you get anything else. We’ll be in Venice tonight, and I’m hoping by tomorrow we’ll have the paintings.” He glanced at Talia, who sat staring out the window. “One more thing. What about the woman on the train? Have you been able to ID her yet from the photo?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll let you know when we do.”

  Talia turned to him as soon as he hung up. “What did he say?”

  “They’ve been interrogating the guy who broke in to your apartment.”

  “And?”

  He gave her a rundown of their conversation.

  Her frown deepened as he finished. “You said something about a photo of the woman on the train. What photo?”

  “I thought I told you. I took one on my phone while I was walking past her pretending to text.”

  “No. I didn’t know.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought I showed you.”

  “Can I see it?”

  He found the image, then handed her his phone.

  Talia seemed to zoom in on the woman’s face and stared at it.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. She looks familiar.”

  “How? Like someone from the Colosseum?”

  “I’m not sure. There’s something about her, but I can’t place her.” Talia zoomed in on the scar above the woman’s eyebrow. “Wait a minute… Change her hair color and the style, give her less makeup, fifteen or so fewer pounds, and place her in an entirely different setting…”

  “You know her?”

  “Yes.” Talia grabbed his hand and looked up at him. “Her name’s Anna Hayes. She was Thomas’s partner when he was on the force.”

  ELEVEN

  A wave of nausea mingled with fear washed over Talia at the recognition of the woman. She shifted in her seat. Thomas had trusted Anna with his life. If she knew about the paintings she had to have been involved.

  But how?

  “Are you sure that’s her?” Joe asked.

  “Yes.” She nodded, wishing all of this made sense. “I didn’t catch it at first because like I said her appearance is altered some. Even the clothes she was wearing weren’t what Anna would wear, but yes… I’m sure it’s her. That scar above her eyebrow, she got it on the job. Someone they were trying to arrest cracked her over the
head with a beer bottle. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her.”

  Why would Anna threaten to kill her? The ramifications of her husband’s former partner’s involvement were significant, bringing with them a slew of disturbing questions. What was her connection to the stolen drug money? Had she been working with Thomas?

  Every scenario that surfaced made her sick.

  Because she’d trusted Anna. The woman had stood beside her at Thomas’s funeral. She’d called Talia to check on her. She’d been a friend. Not close, but a friend. And to think that Anna had betrayed her…

  “How well did you know her?” Joe asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “She and Thomas were partners for a couple years. I considered her a friend. I always thought she was a good cop. Tough, but seemed to care about her job. Thomas trusted her with his life, and as far as I know they didn’t have any issues between them.”

  It seemed that everything she’d known—both about Thomas and now about Anna—had been a lie.

  And now Anna was somehow involved. She—like Thomas—wasn’t the person Talia thought she was.

  “At the time of your husband’s death, were there ever any hints that she might be involved in the thefts from the raids?”

  “If there was I never heard about it. Doesn’t mean she wasn’t questioned or that the thought didn’t cross the minds of the investigators, but as far as I knew, she wasn’t involved.”

  Talia stared at the photo a few more seconds then handed the phone back to Joe. Matteo Arena, the guy who’d broken in to her house, had told her that the person he was working for had been involved in Thomas’s murder. Did that mean that Anna had killed Thomas? Had they gotten into a fight over the stolen goods and she’d ended up killing him?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. There were too many questions and not enough answers.

  “There something else,” Talia said, turning back to Joe. “If she was the one who winged you, I believe she did it on purpose.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if she’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead right now.”

  Joe’s expression darkened. “So she’s a good shot.”

  “Very. She was always trying to beat Thomas during training exercises, and he was one of the department’s best. It was like a long-standing rivalry between the two of them. I always thought it was crazy, not everyone in the department was like that, but they were both so competitive. Her even more so than Thomas.”

  “So if it was her, she wasn’t trying to kill me. Instead she was trying to get me out of the picture. It’s a possibility I’d thought of even before we had an idea of who the gunman could be, but now it seems more likely.”

  The train sped through another tunnel, darkening the car. Why would Anna shoot at an FBI agent in broad daylight? The odds of her getting caught in a situation like that were very high. Unless she really was desperate.

  “She doesn’t want the FBI involved,” Joe said.

  “So she shoots you? I’m still struggling to put this all together in my mind. I know what I just said, but it still seems far too risky, even for someone who is good with guns.”

  “She just has to hold things off until you get her those paintings, or until she finds them herself.”

  “Then if she has a buyer, she takes the millions and disappears.”

  “And in the meantime, she expects me to do this on my own,” Talia said.

  “She needs you to do this on your own. She said she didn’t want anyone else involved. The more people tangled up in this, the greater the chances of things not going her way. She knows an FBI agent wouldn’t hand over the paintings if we find them first.”

  The train flew out of the tunnel, then seconds later was speeding through a small rural community sprinkled with a few dozen houses with red tiled roofs.

  “I remember talking to her at the funeral,” Talia said. “She told me how sorry she was for my loss. Told me that despite everything that had happened, that Thomas had been a good partner. That even though he made bad choices that he still loved me. That he talked about me to her all the time.” Talia stared out the window and caught her reflection, wishing she could shake the numbness. “But this… If this is her, then she’s involved. Which means she lied to me. And if she lied to me about her involvement, then what else was she dishonest about?”

  Her mind had played through the scenario hundreds of times since the night her husband had died. Ever since, she’d tried to figure out how she could have missed the signs that he was involved in something illegal. But no matter what she wanted to believe, she couldn’t refute the evidence. Not the ten thousand dollars in cash, the other stolen evidence they’d found in Thomas’s possession, or the account linked to his name.

  But now she wanted to know what Anna’s connection was. She had to have known something. Including who’d shot Thomas.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “That if you would have told me four, maybe five years ago, what Thomas was going to do, I never would have believed you. And yet the evidence was there. It left no doubts in my mind that my husband wasn’t the man I thought he was. But this—this changes everything. Anna’s involvement. I need to know the truth. Once and for all about what happened that night.”

  She needed to call the assistant chief.

  She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’m going to call Captain Blythe.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? I’m not sure who we can confide in at this point.”

  “Who else am I supposed to trust? Not only did he call me to give me a heads-up, but he would know where she is.”

  Ignoring Joe’s concerns, she pulled out her phone, dialed the assistant chief’s number.

  “Captain Blythe,” she said as soon as he’d answered. “This is Talia Morello again.”

  “Talia…are you okay?”

  “For now, but you said to call if I needed anything.”

  “Of course I meant it. What’s going on?”

  “I was just trying to get a hold of Detective Hayes and wondered if you could give me a way to contact her.”

  “Your husband’s old partner?”

  “Yeah…does she still work for the department?”

  “Yes, but she’s on leave, actually. Can I ask why you need to speak to her?”

  “It’s just for something personal.” Talia hesitated, unsure of how much she should say until she could figure out exactly what was going on. “Actually, I thought I saw her here.”

  “In Italy?”

  She pressed her lips together before continuing. “I know. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m sure it was her.”

  “I wish I could help you, but like I said, she’s not around right now. From what I understand there was a death in the family that she needed to deal with. But whoever you saw, it’s probably just someone who looks like her. Anna’s family lives in El Paso, not Italy. But I can pass on your cell number to her if you’d like.”

  “I would. Thank you. If you’d have her call me, then I’m sure we can clear things up.”

  Or at least she hoped this was all somehow one big mistake.

  “Call me if you need anything else,” he said. “Please.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  She finished the call, then turned back to Joe.

  “What did he say?” he said.

  “That conveniently Anna’s on leave. A death in the family. She could have lied. No one would know unless they started poking into the situation.”

  “Like we have?”

  “It was her, Joe. It was her on the train. And I’m now convinced that she was the one who shot you. Which means she was involved in all of this somehow.”

  “I need to call Esposito and give him an update, see if he has anything for us.” Joe glanced at his watch. “It’s getting pretty late, though.”

  “And you look tired.” She glanced at his arm. At least the wound hadn’t bled throu
gh the bandage. “How’s the pain?”

  “On a scale from one to ten…about a five. But I’ll be fine.”

  Maybe, but she didn’t miss the fatigue in his eyes “Forget about the case for the moment. What you need is a good night’s sleep before we start searching in the morning.”

  *

  Just past five the next morning, Joe stared at the ceiling of his hotel room. The sun had yet to rise, but he felt as if he’d been awake for hours. And he knew that despite the pain pills he’d taken during the night he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anymore because of the ache in his shoulder. He got up and went to the small sink in the bathroom and washed down two more of the pills with a bottle of water, hoping it would take the edge off the pain. Maybe Talia had been right. Maybe he was pushing it too much, but the clock was ticking, and they needed to find the paintings.

  He left a message on her voice mail, asking her to meet him in the lobby when she was ready, then headed downstairs to get a strong cup of coffee.

  Three cups of coffee and an hour later Talia stepped out of the elevator, looking far more awake than she had the night before when they’d arrived at the hotel. He shifted his gaze to the painting behind her, trying not to notice how nice she looked in a pink flowered dress with the hem landing just above her knees.

  “Morning,” he said, setting down his empty coffee cup and standing up when she reached him.

  “Morning. How’s your arm?”

  “Still there.”

  “Funny. Seriously, how are you feeling? You’re not exactly following the doctor’s orders and resting.”

  “It hurts, but I took some more pain medicine and it’s finally kicking in.” He glanced down at his limb. “I tried to redo the dressing myself, but really, I’m fine.”

  “I can tell you did it yourself, and you did a terrible job. Come on.” She shot him a smile, then led him toward a more private corner of the lobby. “Did you take your antibiotics?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, pulling out a new set of dressings from his backpack.

  She sat down beside him, then pulled up the sleeve of his gray button-down.

  “Seriously,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

  “You keep saying that, and yet you were shot. That will always be a big deal to me.”