The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 1-3: Redemption Thriller Series 7-9 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  A short man walking his dog across the street glanced in my direction. He didn’t seem very friendly—the man, not the dog. Then I realized I was sitting in Black Beauty, my eleven-year-old Civic that looked like it had been in about ten hailstorms. I was an outsider, someone who’d invaded their cocoon of suburbia delight.

  “I want to talk to this Ozzie friend of yours later. Maybe we can brainstorm on defense strategies. Even though she says she didn’t kill him, it’s hard for me to imagine why he couldn’t argue it was self-defense.”

  “I think it has something to do with the extent of his suffering. And he’s on his way in from Austin right now.”

  The extent of the suffering—the same message Saul had heard on his visit with the assistant DA. “If he’s as good as you say he is, I want to challenge him,” I said.

  “Damn, I like the way you think.”

  We ended the call, and I quickly sent Stan a text asking if Moreno or anyone else had taken the time to examine the video footage from the schools near the woods where Jesse had been killed. Then I climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door of Lisa Graham’s house and rang the doorbell. No response. I looked through a window next to the door. No movement of any kind, not even the little dog, Shelby. I rang the doorbell three more times over the course of a few minutes. The place was empty.

  “Just my luck,” I said, turning around to head back to my car.

  I heard the door open behind me. “If you’re looking for my mom, she’s at work.”

  It was Nora. She had changed into shorts and a baggy T-shirt. She looked more like a ninth-grader.

  “You’re not at school.”

  “I don’t feel well,” she said, resting her head against the door. She’d lost her attitude, but it also seemed like she’d lost her will to live.

  “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, but I’m glad we ran into each other again. When I left earlier, I got the feeling you wanted to tell me something.”

  She looked away.

  “It’s okay, Nora. I’m—”

  “I heard you and your friend talking earlier this morning.”

  I nodded. “Want to talk about this inside?”

  She moved out of the way, and I walked into the foyer. She turned around, ran her fingers through her blond hair.

  “You can tell me what’s on your mind, Nora.”

  She began to chew her nails.

  “I used to be a CPS agent. I want to help you.

  “And now you work for Dillon’s lawyers? I don’t think you can help me.”

  I blew out a breath. Time to come clean. “I don’t really work for them. It was just something we said so your mom would talk to us. I have this company called ECHO, and our mission is to help kids in need, kids who can’t find help from anyone else in their worlds.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Nora, please. I don’t know what happened, but I promise I will help.”

  “It’s…fucked up.”

  “Remember, I worked at CPS. You can’t shock me.”

  She stared directly at me. “Wanna bet?”

  Then the tears came, making pools in her eyes. I reached over, put a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Nora. I want to help you.”

  She took in a jittery breath. “I slept with Dillon Burchfield the night he was accused of assaulting that girl at the rave.”

  I blinked, replaying her words, but I made sure to not alter my facial expression. “Was that your choice?” I asked with a calm tone.

  “Fuck no.” Her jaw clenched, and then her eyes shifted to the rectangular table in the foyer. She picked up a framed picture.

  “This bitch here, my mom…she made me do it.” She poked her finger at the glass.

  “I don’t understand, Nora. Why would she—”

  “Because she’d been stealing money from Spatium to keep this lavish lifestyle she and Dad had created. Dillon caught her and gave her his conditions for not turning her over to the police.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. From the outside, Nora appeared to have everything any fourteen-year-old could want. But she’d been broken. And how could she not be? Her mom had essentially used her as a sex slave.

  “But your mom said we could check the records at the hotel.”

  She rolled her eyes then slammed the framed picture to the tile floor, spraying shards of glass.

  “Sorry.” She began to heave with sobs.

  “It’s okay, Nora. Let it all out.” I took her in my arms, and she cried into my shoulder. “It will all work out.”

  She pushed back, and I could see a trail of mascara snaking down her face.

  “Dillon has all the power. He can get anything he wants,” she said in between gasps.

  “Get what in particular?”

  “The hotel records. He could get those changed without any problem at all.”

  I let that resonate a bit.

  She wiped her eyes, further smearing makeup across her face. “We weren’t even at the hotel. We were at his hideaway condo where he takes all of his girls.”

  She had more information than I could have possibly imagined. My adrenaline rushed through my veins. “Nora, get your stuff. You need to leave this house.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, won’t Mom be mad?”

  “At this point, do you care what your mom thinks?”

  “Hell no.”

  We were out the door ten minutes later.

  46

  Before I had a chance to shift the gear of Black Beauty into drive, I heard a text come in. I pulled my phone from the cup holder and read Stan’s message.

  “Who’s that?” Nora said nervously.

  “Friend of mine named Stan. He’s a cop. He’s one of the good guys.”

  She curled some loose locks around her ear. “Where are you going to take me?”

  “To my place for now.” I turned in my seat to face her, clearing my throat. “I think you need to know what Stan just told me.”

  Her eyes got wide. She really was pretty without all that makeup—an All-American girl look. “What is it?”

  “Dillon announced to his employees that he’s taking a leave of absence to deal with his legal issues.”

  She looked out the front windshield, then back to me. “I guess that doesn’t really affect me, right?”

  I nodded. “There’s a second thing.” I paused, considering how I should word it.

  She shook her hands. “Tell me already, will you?”

  “Apparently, Herbert Ross—”

  “Right, Dillon’s lawyer. What about him?”

  I was reminded of the impatience of youth. “He apparently told the assistant DA about your mother being Dillon’s alibi the night of the assault.”

  She pressed her hands against her face. “Of course. One lie right after another. She could have fessed up, told the cops what he did to me—what she allowed to happen.” She pushed out more tears. “I just can’t believe all of this shit. It’s been one nightmare after another. I’m sick and tired of thinking about that night…of him. I keep reliving him being on top of me, the smell of his nasty breath.” Tears welled in her eyes. “It just won’t go away.”

  “It’s messed up, Nora, but it’s not anything you did. It’s the adults in your life.”

  She nodded, used a tissue to dab her eyes.

  “I don’t know if this will be enough to get the DA’s office to drop the charges against Dillon, but they will look into it.” I tapped the steering wheel, lost in my thoughts for a moment. “I’m still wondering how they found the victim’s blood and hair in his car if he was with you that night.” I turned my head to her. “Was he with you the entire night?”

  She nodded. “I begged him to stop, to leave me alone. But he kept going and going.”

  “And where was your mom during all this?”

  “At home. She picked me up the next day, almost like it was summer camp. She had the fucking nerve to tell me I could buy any clothes that I wanted. Clothes!
That’s how she thought she could make this up to me. I fucking hate her!” she screamed out, pounding her fists into her lap.

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and she got in another round of crying. “I’m a used piece of trash, Ivy. No one will ever want to be with me. I look at myself in the mirror and I want to throw up. I hate myself for doing what Mom wanted.”

  My heart ached for Nora. The most important trust of all—child to parent—had been severed. And while I’d never experienced that type of maternal bond, I could recall dozens of occasions where I’d hoped that someone with a sane mind would enter my life and take me away from all of the horror. How many times had I looked in the mirror as a kid and hated myself even more than hating the person who’d hurt me? I still did it with this Milton mess haunting my every thought.

  I swallowed back some emotion while pushing my own demons into a black box in the back of my mind. “It’s normal to feel this way, Nora. I’ve gone through similar situations.”

  “You have?”

  “Sadly, many others have experienced the same thing. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. We will get you help. There are at least a few good people in this world.”

  She smiled, then gripped her small hand around my arm. “Thank you.”

  I thumbed a text to Stan and then pulled away from the curb, my mind already thinking ahead to how we would catch a child predator.

  47

  I was speaking with Saul on the phone when I heard an ear-splitting pop. “What was that?” I asked, jerking the phone away from my head

  “Can you speak up? I can’t hear you,” he yelled.

  I heard whooping and hollering and the thumping bass of loud music. It sounded like a college frat party. In some respects, it was. Herbert Ross had been notified by the assistant DA that charges against Dillon were being dropped. Almost immediately, close friends, Dillon’s legal team, and his security detail had erupted into a spontaneous celebration.

  “What was that popping sound?”

  “Oh, that was Zeke popping the cork on a bottle of Dom Perignon. Everyone is relieved that it’s finally over.”

  Now wasn’t the time to divulge to Saul the new information I’d learned about Dillon. Given his likely intoxication and the testosterone levels I could feel through the phone, there was zero chance he would take me seriously. He’d have to find out later.

  “So why did you call me?” I asked.

  “Well, first of all, to share the good news.”

  Stan and Nick had already given me the scoop, but again, it wasn’t information Saul needed to know at this time. “Congratulations.”

  The extraneous noise lowered a couple of notches. He must have moved away from the center of the party festivities.

  “You don’t sound very excited. And, hey, I get it. I know you heard some weird stuff about Dillon from your mystical source. I can only guess who that was.”

  He paused, but I didn’t take the bait.

  “Anything else?” I asked with the excitement of someone getting their wisdom teeth removed.

  “Oh, Dillon said he’s sorry he never got a chance to talk to you. It’s been a whirlwind of a day for him, first with taking his leave of absence and now with the charges being dropped. He said that he’s putting a check in the mail tomorrow. And he plans to pay ECHO double the normal rate. Pretty cool, huh?”

  I grunted in response.

  “Why are you such a Debbie Downer?”

  “I’m just tired, Saul. And don’t forget, Cristina is still looking at prison time, according to her new attorney. So I have a lot on my mind.” I wasn’t sure where Cristina and her mom would stay temporarily. Maybe my place. I knew they needed some space to reconnect while they—and I—worked with their new lawyer on Cristina’s defense strategy.

  “Right. Sorry. It momentarily slipped my mind. But I guess you can understand.”

  “Sure.” I shifted the conversation back to Dillon. “So is he planning on rescinding his leave of absence since the charges were dropped so quickly?”

  “I don’t think so. I overheard him telling Ross that he wants to take some time off, travel with Emma, and try to create some positive energy in his life. Gotta love the attitude.”

  “Yee haw,” I said with absolutely no emotion.

  “I see him right now, holding Emma in his arms, tickling her neck. It’s hard to imagine that we thought he might have…you know.”

  I played along with his delusion. “Yep. You nailed it, Saul.”

  “Gotta run. I’ll call you. Now that this is behind us, maybe we can have a coffee.”

  It was hard to think in those terms, chilling out, talking about life and not just the pursuit of the truth. Without giving him a firm yes, we ended the call.

  “You’re like a wound-up toy soldier, walking back and forth like that.”

  It was Nick, two hands on the back of my couch observing me while I was on the call.

  “I think better when I’m moving. We all have our methods.”

  “We sure do.” Stan walked into our space, held up a cheeseburger like it was a trophy, then devoured a quarter of it in one bite.

  “You’re amazing,” Nick said.

  “Screw you. Let’s talk business while Nora’s in Ivy’s bedroom.”

  We huddled near the couch. “She’s just hanging out, reading one of my old books. So, we’re good for a while.” I looked at Nick. “Never got a chance to tell you congrats on getting Lucia to confess to setting up Dillon. How’d you do it?”

  “We got dirt on him and then cut him a deal. Works every time.”

  “Sounds almost too easy,” I said.

  “Hardly. My team in Boston is the best. Brad and Gretchen worked overtime with Italian authorities and found out Lucia was using an alias. Passport was a fake. He’s wanted for murder in Milan. Sliced a guy’s neck. That happens to be the same city that Claudio Belsito calls home.”

  I nodded. “You could get Belsito after all.”

  “We just might. Lucia said he paid off the girl and a look-alike of Dillon to do their little act at this rave, then leaked the video online. He planted blood and hair in Dillon’s car.”

  “But what about the victim? The bruises and open wounds on her face?”

  “Hard to believe, but those were real. Confirmed by a doctor. Lucia said she agreed to be beaten up for an extra ten grand.”

  I shook my head in disbelief of the greed. “Belsito and Dillon’s rivalry is that deep-seated?”

  “Belsito’s ego is off the charts, from what I’ve learned,” Nick said.

  Stan added, “And Dillon’s middle name isn’t exactly humble.”

  I thought more about what Belsito’s bag man had pulled off. “How did this Lucia dude know about Dillon’s child fetish?”

  “He used the term due diligence.” Nick pulled a small package from his pocket and folded a stick of gum into his mouth. “He said that’s how business is conducted, especially with so much on the line. You find the skeleton that would make that person suffer the most, and then you figure out how to expose it. We’ve now learned that Dillon has used his knowledge of navigating the Darknet to find raves that have virtually no oversight because they’re mobile, involve a lot of drugs, and yes, attract underage girls.”

  “Twisted fuck,” I said under my breath while wondering more about the motivation. “And we’re supposed to believe that setting up Dillon to be arrested for sexual assault and the attempts to kill him are all because he backed out of the merger?”

  Nick folded his arms. “Honestly, I think Lucia’s understanding of this entire situation is limited. He’s the one implementing the plans for Belsito. Hopefully, Italian authorities can learn more when they bring him in for conspiracy to commit murder.”

  “And what about the mugging of the undersecretary of Energy? Did Lucia do that job too?”

  “He denied he had anything to do with that. Didn’t even know much about it.”

  Stan inhaled another bite of
his burger, then said, “We need to discuss this plan a bit more. I know we got permission from all the right people, but her mom has got to be worried about her.”

  “Nora texted her mom, said she’s spending the night at a friend’s house. She said her mom is probably relieved.”

  “Right. That woman is twisted,” Stan said.

  “Not as much as Dillon,” Nick said. “He’s over there celebrating, thinking his life is back to normal now.”

  “That’s what we want him to think, right?”

  They both nodded. “How long until you want Nora to send him the text?”

  Stan checked his phone while munching on more of his burger. “Give it another hour. Let things die down at the mansion. From what Nora was telling us earlier, it won’t take much to motivate him to go meet her.”

  “Eastside Park?” Nick said.

  I nodded. “My camera buddy, One-Eyed Rob, is in the process of setting up cameras and mics so Dillon won’t find a wire on Nora. You got Moreno to help you guys out?”

  “We’re keeping it small, per instructions from the chief. Dillon has connections everywhere. We just need to get him to admit what he’s doing on tape, and then we’ll move in and make the arrest.”

  The bedroom door opened, and Nora walked out. The room went silent.

  “I’m not a two-year-old. I know you’re getting all of your plans ready. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m in theater, and my performance is going to be Oscar worthy. I want this bastard behind bars. Now, do you have any chocolate ice cream?”

  48

  A soft glow emanating from the lone light hung over the corner of Eastside Park. I sat in my car—sandwiched in a long row of cars from people who lived in the quiet neighborhood—a block down from where the operations van was positioned. Inside were Stan, Nick, and Rob, the videographer who guaranteed he could deliver the video and audio evidence on Dillon if any words were exchanged anywhere in the small park. Moreno was actually hiding in one of the evergreen trees near the bench where Nora was sitting.