Her Final Watch (A Detective Blanchette Mystery Book 2)

by Marguerite Ashton

  Jeremiah rushed up to the back window. “I’m going with you.”

  Lily shook her head. “No. Stay. So you can tell the others what happened.”

  The sirens on the cruiser chirped, as it made a circular turn in the parking lot to exit the barricade.

  The other patrol cars made room, letting Nick out.

  Jeremiah watched as his partner was driven away. What have I done?

  *

  9:44 a.m.

  Jeremiah stared past the first responders as they taped off the scene. He scarcely noticed the paramedics treating people with injuries. Sergeant Owen stood in a huddle with officers taking pictures of the skid marks left behind by the car containing the shooters.

  Sarge had already taken Jeremiah’s statement about the incident. There had been no word on Lily’s condition.

  Jeremiah took out the cigarette he had stashed on him and lit it. No e-cig this time. He was yearning for real tobacco. He sauntered slowly to the left as Evan and Alec pulled up in their vehicle and got out.

  Evan marched in Jeremiah’s direction with his hands clenched at his side. Damn. Here we go. Jeremiah tossed the cigarette onto the ground and put it out with his foot.

  “What did you do this time?” Evan demanded.

  “I’m not the one that shot at your girlfriend.”

  Evan charged at Jeremiah, grabbed his arm and flung him against the hood of a car. “You said you had Lily’s back.”

  “I did. I care more about what happens to Lily than me.”

  Alec stepped in and tried to pull Evan off of Jeremiah. “Let him go, man.”

  Sergeant Owen stalked over and helped Alec. Owen braced his hand on Evan’s chest. “Back off, York. Back off!”

  Evan reached for Sarge’s arm to keep his balance. “This had to do with you, didn’t it? You and your damn relationship with Diamond and the mob have caused problems for this department, our case, and now Lily.”

  “That’s enough,” said Sarge, raising his voice over ours. “You two are acting like little school boys on the playground. My officers don’t behave that way. I want to see the both of you in my office now.”

  “Yes sir,” both detectives said in unison and walked away.

  It’s time for me to own up to my mistakes.

  *

  10:30 a.m.

  Mikey Surace’s white Denali pulled to a stop in front of the club. He thrust open the door before his driver could let him out. Orso, Gavino, and Luca, wearing the trench coat uniform of Pop’s hired guns, flanked to the left and followed him inside.

  Mills was still alive. How does a person like Quentin miss? Something wasn’t right.

  As Mikey stormed into Pop’s office, the toilet flushed. A few seconds later, Pop rounded the corner. “Pop—”

  “Don’t be rude. Say hi to your cousin Vic. He just flew in from Florida.” Pop cinched his belt tight.

  Cousin Vicenzo twisted around in the chair and smiled. “I see you’re still trying to dress like me.” He stood and outstretched his arms. “You’re almost there. Not quite. How about one day I take you to my tailor and show you how a man who’s to be the future don of this family should dress.”

  Eight years older than he, Vic reminded Mikey of the old style gangsters from the thirties; classy and genuine. The son of Pop’s twin sister and the Consigliere for the family was dressed in a three button single breasted suit with pleated pants. His dress shoes were two toned, and his hat collection could put any cowboy to shame.

  Mikey loved everything about Vic. Except the hats.

  “Yeah. I guess that’d be good.”

  Pop poured himself a glass of wine. “Vic just got word we’re still being watched. He’s not sure who but feels it might be the FBI. So we’ve got to be careful. There’s a chance that we’ve got an unwanted. A person who’s close to one of us.”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Mills is still alive and I’m thinkin’ Quentin might be no good.”

  “I’ve got it on good authority that he’s no turncoat.” Pop took a long sip from his glass. “Quentin’s our contractor here in the Midwest and in Florida. Whether you believe it or not, he’s good for our family.”

  “At least reconsider. Just to be sure.”

  “I can assure you I’ve got my eye on him. I watch all of my people. I hope you’ll remember that when you take over.” Pop stepped behind the desk to sit down. “We’ve been getting hit hard by the law and we’re a small family. We’re getting squeezed because they believe that if they get one of us, we’ll rat on the bigger families.

  “But to avoid being their guinea pigs, I’ve come up with a proposal that works with Don Leoni. We need his protection. Once we’re in, we’ll have the blessings from the other dons, making us solid.”

  Vic said, “Obey your father. He’s been a boss longer than you’ve been alive.”

  Mikey moved further into the office and sat down on the desk, next to Pop. “You and Vic should’ve taken out old man Leoni after what he tried to do to you in the nineties.”

  “The bad blood between us and the Leonis have cooled in an attempt to protect everyone. But still, never trust a Leoni.” Pop swirled the last of the dark red liquid. “Leoni’s son is head of the family now, while he watches from behind the curtain.”

  “The son’s a kiss ass. He’s never made any real money. It was given to him to support his pretty boy habit. I’m worried that it’ll cost us in the long run.”

  “That’s enough,” said Pop, turning on the mini radio sitting on his desk. He closed his eyes and listened. “Opera is good for your soul.”

  You never liked opera until Mama died. Mikey’s stomach rumbled. Mama used to listen to opera every time she cooked. She would dance with Pop right in the cramped space she called a kitchen. Sometimes, Pop would pretend to fall asleep on Mama’s shoulder, which is when she’d chastise him in Italian and run him out of the kitchen.

  Pop turned down the radio. “We’re going to keep the peace on our end to salvage what’s left of our businesses.”

  Vic took off his hat and placed it in his lap. “Don’t worry about territory. All you need to think about is earning money. It doesn’t seem like it, but these days being the smaller family has its perks. The shake-up involving the undercover cops has others afraid to take the risk. They deal with illegal drugs; you’re tapping into a market that has decriminalized pot in several states.

  “You take a few of our people from Florida and Illinois, set up front stores---like antique shops. Get our weed out of states that’ve made buying this stuff easy.”

  “In Colorado, marijuana is legal. All the states that share a border have cops waiting to check you for pot on their side of the line, like the revenuers in the shine days,” Pop said. “A guy transporting a car on a flatbed from Denver got pulled over and they collected a hundred pounds of weed in the trunk, and ecstasy.”

  Vic laughed. “Look, the amateurs make it seem like the drug units are tough, but our guys from Florida and Illinois cut their teeth with this when ecstasy was the name of the game. Our pot sources are purer, stronger, and easier to cut to increase your profits. Plus you get western ‘X’ without the travel costs from the East.”

  Pop placed his glass down and glanced up at his nephew. “Your plan sounds good. You have my permission to move forward on the condition that you handpick the people to run this operation. I don’t want junkies or fresh out prison jackals who’ll flip to save their own skin. Is that understood?”

  Vic squeezed the top of his hat. “Yes.”

  Mikey’s thoughts froze. Why would Pop tell Vic that he was responsible for choosing the men? If someone handpicked an associate, he’d be the one to pay if that person messed up.

  Vic said, “I have a man who has major connections needed to do the job, including a couple of politicians.”

  “You make sure that your guy is on board. Tell him we’ll stuff his mattress with enough money to retire on in a year.”

  “He’ll m
ake it happen.” Vic straightened out his hat and put it back on.

  “Then we’ll keep a low profile with the drugs, bringing in marijuana only. The same goes for the club. Strictly pot,” Pop said, clearing his throat. “Keep everything respectable.”

  Mikey was sure his father was talking to him. He didn’t have the nerve to question his father if he had doubts about him being a part of the operation.

  Mikey’s eyes darted toward Vic. If Quentin was squeaky clean, then there was no way Mikey could have Quentin whacked without his father’s say so. Now that Vic was back in town, and he’d probably remain here until he was no longer needed. Any plans to get rid of Quentin had to be put on hold. Even if Mikey were head of the family, he’d still have to answer to Pop.

  *

  10:52 a.m.

  Evan blew past Jeremiah as he exited Sergeant Owen’s office.

  Jeremiah knew this time with Sarge was going to be bad. He was either going to be suspended or transferred to another district. He looked through the window leading into the office and stepped inside.

  “Sarge.”

  “Mills.” Sarge pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “We received a tip that it was an attempt on your life. You better tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Jeremiah nodded his head slowly. “It’s been almost two years, and I’d hoped it would blow over.”

  “Hoped what would blow over?”

  “I worked a case back in Milwaukee, and it got out of hand. I screwed up and now the people that I’ve pissed off want me dead.”

  “You were shot at during the day. I think we can say it’s more than just a screw-up. Who is it that’s after you?”

  “The Surace family.”

  Sarge leaned back in his chair. “What did you do?”

  “I compromised the case by sleeping with my target’s lady, to keep my cover. But I didn’t know she was with him. I had met her before the case started. I was already in love with her.”

  “Were you under the influence at the time?”

  “Yes, Sir. I had been drinking that night.”

  “So booze and a woman wiped out all of the training you took before the case?”

  Jeremiah put his head down. “There’s a lot of jacked up stuff that went on that can be explained, but it wouldn’t do me any good. That’s why I was transferred out of Milwaukee.”

  “I spoke with your former supervisor. He told me what you said and more. The minute you knew there was a conflict of interest with this case you should’ve come to me. I expect nothing but honesty and perfect conduct from my officers.” Sarge scooted his chair up to his desk. “I can’t tell you how difficult you’ve made this for me by not coming to me before.

  “Witnesses recorded the scuffle between you and Evan. The video is currently circulating through every social media outlet you can think of. Now it’s no longer in my hands. Your meeting with I.A is at nine tomorrow morning. Don’t be late and tell them the complete truth to the answers that they ask you. If you’re evasive, it will be looked as if you’re trying to cover something up.

  “Your situation is unique, but they may find you negligent in your duties as an officer. There will be some form of discipline.”

  “I understand.”

  “Effective immediately, you’re off the case, but will remain in police protection. You’re still my officer until a different decision is made.”

  “Thank you, Sarge.”

  Sarge gave a quick nod.

  “Any news about Lily?”

  “No.”

  “I’d like to go see her.”

  “Wait until Evan comes back. Then, make things right with Lily. She deserves the whole truth from you.”

  Chapter 21

  December 16, 1:25 p.m.

  Lily’s pushed herself up in bed as Jeremiah paced the floor in her hospital room. “You can stop walking back and forth. The baby and I are fine.”

  Jeremiah slowed, stopping at the foot of Lily’s bed. “I was scared. I thought they had hurt you.”

  “I’m mad at you about this entire situation.”

  “Stand in line. Your boyfriend and I made the news.”

  “Evan didn’t mean any harm. My deceased husband tried to kill me. It’s a long story.”

  “You’re saying that Evan attacking me was more of a knee-jerk reaction?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Even though you’re the only woman detective on our team, I hardly see you as needing protection from anyone. You’re the alpha female, leading a pack of wolves.”

  Lily shook her head. “I’m a woman with her family of detectives. All we want to do is solve the case.”

  “That came out wrong. I guess I don’t think before I say things. How about you tell me what it is that you want to know.”

  “I want the truth. Not all, only what pertains to this case. Talk, and I won’t think less of you. But if you fail to take this opportunity and talk to me, we’re going to have some serious problems.”

  “What happened this morning was an attempt on my life.” Jeremiah shoved his hands in his pocket and began pacing again. “Diamond used to be an escort in Milwaukee. Lawyers, judges, government officials all knew of her. She was one of the highest paid. And I was one of the investigating officers.

  “I had a witness, but during the interview with the D.A. my witness admitted to being on ‘X’. The D.A. didn’t want the hassle of the defense attorneys getting a hold of the information and the charges were dropped. Diamond and her lawyers got it thrown out, claiming not enough sufficient evidence to warrant an indictment. Boom. Bam. It was over.

  “Later that night, I got a text from my witness saying she was in trouble and needed me to come pick her up. Text after text, they kept coming and I refused to answer. I was busy drinking, trying to forget what happened. About the case. About everything. Anyway, the day after, Diamond paid me a visit. Her best friend, my witness and the woman I loved, killed herself with a bullet to the head.”

  “So, Diamond believed that you owed her one?”

  “Yep. Diamond said if I’d let her leave the police station that day that she wouldn’t tell Mikey Surace that I was working in Fort.”

  “Why would Mikey care where you worked?”

  “The woman I loved belonged to Mikey. It wasn’t until I saw the surveillance photos that I knew she worked as an escort. I’d had only been on a few dates with her, but I still wanted to help her out, except she was too addicted to the money. She said I would never make enough money to give her the lifestyle she wanted. That was it. I let her go. I didn’t know she was with Mikey until it was too late.

  “Word got to my sergeant about my relationship with my witness and I was bounced over to narcotics, then to homicide, where I stayed for five months. Then when I heard about an opening for detective in Fort, I put in my transfer papers and here I am. I hoped that it would at least be a few months before they found me.”

  “Just to be clear, you’ve told me everything?”

  “Everything.”

  “Because I’m going to be a mom soon.”

  Like a lightning bolt, it hit home for Lily. She had said the words that had become such a struggle since she learned she was expecting a baby two weeks ago. Now the phrase fit perfectly. I’m going to be a mom.

  *

  Later that afternoon, Quentin watched as Mikey Surace walked over to the private bar in Cabin D.

  “I said to take out Mills, not the female.” Mikey poured some gin over ice and added a splash of grapefruit juice. “Pop doesn’t want the lady cop touched. Why can’t you follow simple instructions?”

  Quentin walked into the bathroom, stood at the sink and twisted the cap off the peroxide. “I got the word she wasn’t hit.”

  “Good. Cause’ you screw this up again, you won’t get a second chance. I’ve got enough problems without your screw ups leaking into my lap.”

  He gazed up into the mirror and sneered. At least my mistake has nothing to do with me not wa
nting to shoot women. “I won’t miss next time.”

  “Our chance to take out Mills is gone. We won’t be able to get near him.”

  Quentin tipped the bottle and poured the clear solution over the stab wound. He groaned.

  “I bet your arm’s infected. Should’ve healed by now.” Mikey chuckled. “I can’t believe you let Venus get a piece of you. What’d she stab you with?”

  Quentin glanced up in the mirror and saw Mikey with his back turned, taking a sip of his drink. “The same ice pick you used for your ice.” He wrapped his wound with a towel securing his trusty cold piece of steel. Pull the trigger and your worries will be over. He stepped out of the bathroom and positioned his arm, ready to shoot.

  “At least you got this one right.”

  As Mikey set his drink down on the bar, Quentin lowered his arm.

  “Thanks.” Another backhanded compliment, eh Mikey boy. “Huh. The family is lucky it wasn’t me that killed her. They wouldn’t have a body to bury.”

  “You just keep your mind on Detective Mills.” Mikey faced Quentin. “And after that, I want you to find out who’s the prick that jumped me and get rid of him.”

  “Do you want it to be Official or an Encounter?”

  “Encounter. Make sure his body is found.”

  Quentin nodded. What else could he do but follow orders? As much as Quentin wanted to pump Mikey’s body full of bullets, no one had ever killed the son of a boss. And even if Quentin found the balls to do so, Surace’s revenge would be Official. No one would ever find his body. But thoughts of killing Mikey sure made for a nice wet dream.

  Don’t press your luck. Keep your position as head executioner for the Surace family. You’ve got it good knowing that Mikey’s father passed over his own son and gave the position to you. Hell, that’s a good little dig at Mikey boy. It’ll do for now.

  “You have twenty-four hours.” Mikey grabbed his coat and left.