“He hasn’t denied his connection to them. Not once,” she pointed out. “He detours, sideswipes, but he’s never come out and said that he’s never been in contact with Dimitre.”
Terry turned contemplative. “So for that, you’re willing to believe he didn’t kill Yasmine? Because from what I see—”
“I know what you see, and if I just look at it squarely, yeah, I’d say it doesn’t look good for the man.”
“Do you believe that Constantine went to see him last night and drugged him?”
“I guess we’ll find out once the results come back,” she said. She resumed heading toward their desks. Her eye caught the clock on the wall. One thing investigating McAlexandar had done was pass the time. It was seven o’clock now. Her heart cinched in her chest as she realized that Constantine still hadn’t called with the location. What was he waiting for?
She took out her phone and checked it for missed calls and messages, even though her ringer was on. No updates from Cynthia and no missed calls from anyone else.
Sitting down at her desk, her intention was to examine everything from the cases one more time. Everyone else would think she was doing so to solve the murders, but her true motive was to see if she could find out where Constantine was holding her sister.
“I’m just going to grab a cup of coffee,” Terry said. “Want one?”
She’d need to be awake for tonight, and she figured the only reason she was even moving now was because of anxiety. “Why not? Thanks.”
He nodded. “Be right back.”
Madison pulled out a copy of the case file for Bates. There was still some mystery surrounding him, but the answers might only ever come as creative narrative—a cog in the Russian Mafia that was no longer needed.
Her mind drifted to McAlexandar, the thought of him being put in a cell, arrested for murder. There would have been a time she would have greatly relished his downfall, and she cursed that his words must have been having an impact on her. But then again, maybe they weren’t. She hadn’t been completely convinced he had pulled the trigger from the start. If he was framed, however, the question of why begged to be answered. But there was one more thing she needed to remember: while McAlexandar may not have killed Yasmine, he was far from innocent.
“Here you go.” Terry handed her a mug of sludge.
She took it from him, trying not to gag thinking about that first nasty sip. “Thanks.”
“Course. So what are you working on?” Terry pointed to the open file on her desk.
“Bates’s murder.”
“Thought we pretty much know who did that.”
“We do, but I was also thinking about McAlexandar.”
“Madison, you should let it go. The evidence will prove his guilt or innocence one way or another.”
“But he knows I’m not the type to just run with the seemingly glaring proof.”
“You’re referring to all the buttering up he did in there?” Terry pulled his chair around so it was at the side of her desk. “He’s a man facing murder charges. He’s desperate.”
“I know, but—”
Terry pursed his lips and shook his head. “No buts. Did he ever compliment you in the past?”
“No.”
“Then…?” He bugged his eyes out for emphasis. “It’s seems clear to me he’s trying to play you and the system. All this, ‘I haven’t even demanded a lawyer.’ That’s his stupidity.” Terry slurped back some coffee.
Madison studied her partner. He’d always been just as set in his opinions as she was, and it was common for them to view several aspects from cases from opposite perspectives. It was probably one of the reasons their partnership and their close rate was so successful: they opened each other’s minds, even though they’d initially resist. If she was going to make Terry drop his hardened attitude toward McAlexandar, she was going to have to provide some sound reasoning.
“Let’s just talk something out for a moment,” she began, hoping to hook his curiosity. “It seems clear that Constantine was hired to take out Bates. And we figure this was because there’s a new power player who wanted to cut off Dimitre’s tie to the outside world. Maybe Bates didn’t want to switch his loyalties.” She hitched her shoulders. “Or wasn’t given the opportunity.”
Terry bobbed his head.
“Then there’s Yasmine,” she continued. “We know that Kevin Jones, a man she told us she was sleeping with, was really Constantine. So if we take out McAlexandar,” she spat out preemptively, “what are we left with for motive?”
“She could have known more than she should have,” Terry suggested.
Madison nodded. “She was terrified when we interviewed her. She knew something. Like we said before, maybe even Bates’s killer, which we now know she did, whether she realized it or not. But we’re still left with the question of why she had to die.”
“If she did know—or even had proof of some sort—that Constantine was behind the murder, she could have threatened to come forward with it. Even if she didn’t, he might not have wanted to take the risk that she would.”
“Right,” Madison said. “Let’s consider McAlexandar now. We’ve discussed his possible motives for wanting Yasmine dead, but once a cheater, always a cheater.” With that statement, something clicked into place. “Wait… He’s never been a faithful husband, but I don’t think any of his other mistresses ended up murdered.”
“That we know of.”
She gave him a coy smile. “This has to be connected to the Mafia, Terry. The question we should be asking is, why would they want him framed for Yasmine’s murder?” Her mind had formulated the answer by the time she finished speaking. “They must be cleaning house from Dimitre’s ‘administration,’ for lack of a better word.” She leaned forward, excited. “They took out Bates because he no longer fit into their picture, and Yasmine because she was a threat to them, or at least had a relationship with their hit man. And then they frame McAlexandar because it gets him out of the way without killing him.”
“Except he’s as good as dead if he goes to prison since he’s had a hand in putting so many people away.”
Terry was right. Her stomach soured, and she was surprised by the empathy she felt for a man she had up until now despised. Even if former cops weren’t typically placed in general population, they weren’t unreachable.
Terry didn’t say anything, and silence fell between them.
“You’re forgetting the video, though,” he said eventually. “It shows McAlexandar clearly leaving her place after the time-of-death window, remember?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t forgetting the video at all; it was one of the puzzle pieces she had yet to figure out. There was no doubt the Mafia had inroads into all sorts of places, and they also had a lot of holdings. “Constantine had a relationship with Yasmine, and he’s cocky but doesn’t usually take chances when he doesn’t have a shot of getting away. He’d want to keep an eye on Yasmine even when he wasn’t there, just to make sure nothing slipped that could hurt him.”
Terry raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me he’s in charge of the security footage somehow?”
“Not exactly, but what if the Mafia owns Yasmine’s apartment build—” Madison’s ringing phone interrupted her, and they both fell silent. Madison’s chest froze on an inhale, and it hurt to force the air out. All this and the first ring hadn’t even finished by the time she answered. Time was going in slow motion. “Knight.”
“Ah, how nice to hear your voice again,” Constantine cooed.
She dug her fingers into the phone, her anger coursing through her veins like a speeding freight train.
Come on, Karma. Give me another chance to shoot him, and I’ll put the bullet right between his eyes.
He gave her directions to a rural property and told her there would be a farmhouse, but she was to go into the barn. “An
d you come alone,” he demanded.
“Let me talk to my sister,” she said. “I want to know that she’s still…”
“Can’t bring yourself to say it, eh? Dead.” He laughed, and as he let his merriment taint the line, she imagined squeezing the trigger, the bullet exploding his brain…
Something made noise on his end, and Madison sat up straighter.
“Maddy?” It was Chelsea.
“Are you okay? Has he—”
Chelsea sniffled. “He hasn’t touched—”
“That’s enough,” Constantine barked. “The reunion will start at eight thirty, Knight. Don’t be late.”
He disconnected.
Madison blinked tears from her eyes, but there was a shift that had happened within her. The tears were no longer tinged with fear or uncertainty; they had turned bitter and vengeful. When she’d talked to Constantine the first time, she had a brief sense of calm come over her, but this sensation was different. For the first time since she’d learned her sister had been abducted, she was centered and focused.
“Did he tell you where to meet them?” Terry asked.
She told him where she’d been directed to go.
“What were you about to say before your phone rang?” Terry asked. “Something about the Mafia owning—”
“Right. McAlexandar says he’s being set up, and videos can be modified, clipped, and edited. But the only ones who could do that would be those who owned the videos in the first place.” She logged on to her computer and brought up the file on Yasmine Stone. She scribbled down her address and did a quick property-owner search. The answer came back in seconds. “Vytek Holdings,” she said out loud.
“One second.” Terry clicked some buttons on his keyboard. “Vytek is a client of Berger & Stein Accounting.”
“That can’t be a coincidence.”
“I’ll check who owns the property where you’re heading to meet Constantine.” Terry did the search. “It’s owned by Vytek, as well.”
She got up and walked around his desk. “And who owns the company?”
“That could take a little while.”
“It’s a corporation. How hard can it be? All of this should be public knowledge,” she said.
“Yes, it should be, and it is, but…” Terry clicked keys. “Nothing at a quick glance tells me anything useful. More sets of eyes would speed up the process, though.”
Madison nodded. “I’ll update Winston and Troy about the meet and Vytek Holdings.” SWAT would also want to plan an approach strategy. “Also, about your suspicion with Yasmine knowing something she shouldn’t, you and I should go to the lab and see if they’ve found anything on Yasmine’s laptop or cell phone that incriminates Constantine for Bates’s murder. Maybe have them look to recover any deleted files.”
“Do you have time for that right now? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“There’s plenty of time,” she countered, determined to keep herself busy up until the very last second at the risk of losing her mind. Her thoughts fired back to Yasmine and her connection to Constantine and how she might have tied into Bates’s murder. She had an access code to his house, but she’d also need a— “Terry,” she exclaimed.
“I’m right here,” he said as if she startled him. “What?”
“Constantine would have needed to have a code and a key if he killed Bates. Yasmine told us she had one to let herself in. I wonder if Cynthia or Mark found the key for Bates’s house among Yasmine’s things.”
“Hey, good thought. We’ll have to ask them.”
-
CHAPTER
45
ALL MADISON WANTED TO DO was run out the door and throw caution to the wind. The justification was simple: she had to save her sister. But something was holding her back from being impulsive. It probably had to do with Terry’s comments about not letting Constantine win and knowing that Troy would never forgive her if she didn’t go about this the right way.
“I’m going to go see Troy and then Winston,” she told Terry.
“I’ll come with you,” he said.
“Actually, you update Winston. I want to talk to Troy.”
“What happened to ‘there’s plenty of time’?”
She glowered at him.
“Sure, send me in there,” he groaned. “Alone.”
She angled her head as if to say she wasn’t asking a lot of him.
He held up his hands. “Fine. I’ll see him.”
“We’ll meet up in the lab in a bit,” she said over a shoulder.
A few minutes later, she was going into the conference room. Troy stood when she entered and came over.
“He called,” she told him and let him know the address.
Troy let his gaze take in everyone in the room. “Get everything you can on that property.” He guided Madison to the hall.
Once out of the room, she said, “He told me to go alone.”
“Not happening.” His green eyes took on a cool intensity.
She glared right back at him. “If you don’t let me handle this alone, he will kill her.”
“There’s no way I’m going to agree with you running in there—”
“And what? She’s my sister, and her life is at stake. I’m not just going to stand around here and do noth—”
“And you’re my friend and my lover,” he countered.
“I’ve been a detective for years, Troy, and I’ve put away I don’t know how many murderers.” The truth was she knew the exact number. “My point is, I’m going to do just as he told me. I’m going in alone. And if you or your sister or the sergeant, or anyone else for that matter, has a problem with that, tough.”
Troy clenched his jaw. “We don’t put an innocent civilian in the line of fire to secure another hostage.” He sounded like he was clinging to a police procedure manual.
“I’m not a civilian,” she barked. “I’m a trained law enforcement officer.”
“We don’t negotiate with terrorists. Why would we negotiate with a Mafia hit man?”
Her shoulders lowered. “Because he has my sister.”
Troy raked a hand through his hair, and she could see his pulse tapping in his forehead. “I’ll talk to Andrea, but no promises. And you’ll be wearing a wire, do you hear me?” He pointed at her. “Several, actually, because if he finds one, he’ll likely stop there and not search for any others. And that, my dear, is nonnegotiable.”
She left him and headed for the lab, torn between running in for her sister guns blazing or doing this with backup. But maybe she should have considered the options before letting everyone know where she was meeting Constantine. Her urge to go in solo dissipated thinking about the love in Troy’s eyes when he’d told her she was his friend and his lover. Madison took a deep breath.
Surely, Constantine would anticipate that she’d bring company. That still didn’t mean the idea of having SWAT backing her up settled fully into her stomach just yet. She could only trust that Troy would make sure they kept their distance and were discreet.
She took out her phone and brought up the meet address in Google as she got on the elevator. Just as she’d figured, there were fields surrounding the property, and the neighboring houses were a long way down the road. As she stared at her screen, she wondered what Constantine’s play was going to be. Was he going to let Chelsea go or kill them both? And how did he really think he could get away with this? He had to have an escape plan.
She entered the lab and found Terry already there with Cynthia, Mark, and Jennifer, another CSI who reported to Cynthia. Everyone was seated at the table, except Samantha. There was no sign of her, but that was likely because she was still running ballistics tests and comparisons on the gun recovered from McAlexandar’s house.
“Did they find the key?” Madison asked Terry.
“Nope,�
� he responded. “There were only two keys on her ring. The one for her apartment and one for her mailbox in the lobby.”
“So Yasmine had to know that Constantine killed Bates.” Madison let out a deep breath.
“He could have taken the key without her knowledge,” he surmised.
“What about the code, though?” Madison served back. “She probably handed over both. No wonder she was so afraid when she actually found Bates and had to be questioned by us.”
“She would have known her usefulness was over, too.”
Switching to the next topic at hand, Madison addressed Cynthia. “What about Yasmine’s laptop and cell phone? Anything useful on those?”
Cynthia frowned but said nothing.
“Cyn?” Madison prompted.
Cynthia licked her lips, then bit on the bottom one. “It’s almost time.”
“It is,” she said, resigned to getting this over with and ending it once and for all. “And I’ve got to be ready to go.”
“You?” Cynthia stepped forward and was studying Terry. “She’s going? I thought the chief benched her from this?”
“If she thinks that I’m going to sit back while SWAT storms in for Chelsea, she doesn’t know me at all,” Madison ground out. She loved having her inner strength back. Ever since it had been confirmed that Constantine was in town, it had been shaky.
Cynthia’s face paled further, and she addressed Terry. “Please tell me she’s kidding.”
“I don’t think she is.”
“I’ll be wired up, and SWAT is planning an approach. But they’ll need to be discreet, because Constantine had wanted me to come alone.”
“And you know why he wants you to come alone, right?” Cynthia hardened her jaw. “He’s going to kill you.”
“He plans to, yes,” Madison said calmly.
“How are you okay with that?” Cynthia was shaking her head.
“I’ll need the letterhead,” she said, sticking with business. It was best if she didn’t get drawn in by Cynthia’s emotions.
Mark set a clear bag on the table. “It’s a color copy.”
Power Struggle Page 28