Drawing a deep breath, Grant continued, “I’ve been sort of struggling lately, with nightmares and other stuff, I guess.” He sniffed. “You see, my father, well, when I was a kid, he…he physically abused me.”
The last words came out in a rush, but everyone heard him clearly and looked stunned by the revelation. Joe and Sophie couldn’t believe Grant had just shared this, and the others took in the news for the first time. Jerry looked down, not knowing what to say, and Marilyn appeared stricken. Will crumpled in his chair, feeling shocked then disgusted. He could never imagine hitting his child, no matter how angry she made him.
When Sophie squeezed his hand, Grant slowly looked up. Although she could detect some lingering shame in his bottomless blue eyes, she knew he’d come a long way from being that frightened little four-year-old locked in the closet. The fact that he’d openly admitted the abuse showed he was no longer shouldering the blame for his father’s actions. He was no longer internalizing his father’s cruel words.
“It must have been tough to confront your father, then,” Marilyn said, breaking the silence.
Grant nodded. “Yes, ma’am. And then when he told me he was getting out—”
“What were his exact words?”
“He said, ‘I’ll join you on the outside,’ um, ‘I’ll see you soon.’”
“And you think that’s credible?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s been in there twenty-two years, and he’s never even mentioned the idea of getting out before. I think he has a sure exit strategy all lined up. And his plan will begin next week unless we stop him.”
“Next week?” Jerry asked.
Grant nodded, glancing at Sophie and then back at his PO. “After the election.”
Will leaned forward. “Why the election?”
Clearing his throat, Grant said, “I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out my dad’s plan. Why now? Why does he seem so certain he’s getting out now? I’ve also come to realize that after rolling in the dough for years, my family’s having money problems. There’s a reason Carlo came after Logan and Sophie so hard for that money. There’s a reason they’re pushing their extortion contracts so heavily. They’re broke.”
Grant looked around the table. Will, Joe, Marilyn, and Jerry all perched on the edge of their seats, staring back at him expectantly. Feeling Sophie’s steadying presence next to him, he continued, “I think my father has bribed Darko Jovanovich. He funds Jovanovich’s campaign, and Jovanovich pardons him once he wins office. My father will be released from prison by the new governor.”
There was a moment of silence, then everyone started talking at once.
“How’d you figure this out?”
“That conniving bastard!”
“How’ll we prove—”
“If Enzo Barberi gets free…”
Sophie gazed at Grant, both of them now feeling electrified by the energy in the room. It seemed Grant’s theory had merit.
Over the cacophony of voices, one rang out, defeating the others with its intensity and gravitas. “Wait a minute, people!” Marilyn hollered, standing up.
Joe suppressed a chuckle as he watched her take charge—this little half-pint could command authority almost better than his captain.
“Mr. Madsen, I have a question,” Marilyn said, meeting his gaze at almost eye-level from her standing position.
“Maybe if you stood up, Marilyn, we might actually notice you,” Jerry teased.
She playfully punched his arm. “Shut up, Stone.” She turned back to Grant. “Mr. Madsen, if I may continue, that’s a very interesting theory. Do you have any evidence to back it up?”
Grant swallowed. “Not yet, ma’am. I was hoping we could work together to gather some.” Sensing her skeptical glare, he rambled on. “Is there some sort of Chicago Police division focusing on the Mafia?”
Marilyn paused. “Not that I know of, but that’s not what you want anyway. You think Jovanovich is making shady deals with a prisoner? You want a public corruption task force.”
“A what?” Joe asked.
“The Illinois Public Corruption Task Force,” Marilyn answered. “They go after corrupt public officials. The City of Chicago, Cook County, the State of Illinois and the FBI all participate, so this would be perfect. I worked with one of the FBI agents on the task force, Lucas Bounter, on a case in Lake County. We took down a corrupt county commissioner.”
Grant asked, “Detective Fox, could you get in touch with Agent Bounter? Maybe get them involved and start an investigation?”
“Tom is going to want to hear about this,” Will interjected hotly. “He’ll get his staff on it right away.”
“Be careful,” Joe warned quietly. “If the Barberi family finds out you’re investigating them, they’ll come after you. They’ll come after you hard. Tom Grogan’s a politician, not a federal agent. Leave this to law enforcement.”
“The problem is that law enforcement will need a warrant to do what you’re asking, Mr. Madsen,” Marilyn said. “We can’t go sniffing around the Barberi family’s financial records, or those of a high-profile gubernatorial candidate, without solid evidence that something’s fishy.”
Sophie’s shoulders sagged, knowing what was coming next. Grant’s reassuring hand-squeeze did little to squelch her dread.
“I thought you might say that,” Grant replied, looking directly at Marilyn and Jerry. “But I said we’d be working together to gather the evidence. I haven’t told you my part yet.”
“Your part?” Joe asked warily.
Not looking at Sophie, Grant squared his shoulders. “I’m going to get you that evidence.”
“How the hell will you do that?” Jerry asked.
“I’ll go back inside Gurnee. Wired. I’ll get my father to confess his plan.”
This time the silence lasted much longer.
Finally, Joe said, “Are you crazy, Grant? Didn’t Enzo threaten to kill you once he got his hands on you?”
“He’s not going to kill his own son, Joe.”
“The hell he’s not. The man’s unstable! He’s probably been cultivating this exchange with Jovanovich for months! He’s not going to let you step in and ruin it all.”
“You knew about this?” Will stared at Sophie.
“Yes, Grant told me last night.”
Will looked incredulous. “And you agreed to his plan?”
She sighed glumly. “He hasn’t told you all of it yet.”
“So there’s more to this harebrained scheme?” Jerry scoffed, glowering at the plan’s mastermind. “You know how bad it is in Gurnee, Madsen. Why the hell would you willingly go back inside?”
Chewing on his lip, Grant eventually replied, “Because if I go in there and get you the evidence—if it stops a corrupt politician from winning office…well, then I want Sophie’s felony conviction reversed.”
“Grant too!” Sophie rushed to add. “That’s the only way I agreed to this: if Grant’s conviction gets reversed too.”
“Fat fucking chance!” Jerry exploded. “I should’ve known you two were up to something. The courts will never go for this.”
Marilyn rested a hand on Jerry’s forearm, trying to calm him. “Mr. Madsen, how exactly do you plan on getting your conviction vacated?”
Grant chewed on his lower lip. “I’m not sure, ma’am. I’m hoping if this works, someone will go to bat for us? There must be a way.”
“Tom Grogan would certainly be on board,” Will said. “If nothing else pans out, I’d think he’d be willing to issue pardons for both of you.”
Marilyn nodded thoughtfully. “The task force has a local prosecutor and an assistant attorney general assigned to it, I believe. They’d have to figure it out. You both pleaded guilty, so that may make it easier—no jury trial convictions to be set aside.”
Jerry looked nonplussed.
“They’re conning us, Mar. This is all about them skating scot-free.”
“Oh, come on, Jer, you and I both know they don’t be
long in the correctional system. The only reason they were arrested in the first place is they got caught up in the Barberi family web. And now that they finally have a chance to get free, you’re going to stand in their way?” Her green eyes flared. “They’re both good people, and if Grant’s plan works, we’ll be doing our jobs—protecting the people of Illinois from the likes of Enzo Barberi and from Darko Jovanovich too, assuming he’s guilty of corruption.”
Sophie and Grant gazed at Marilyn, their new hero.
His bushy grey eyebrows knitting together, Jerry squinted pensively at Grant. “If you succeed—and that’s a big if—Enzo Barberi’s going to be mighty pissed at you.”
Grant swallowed. “That’s why we need to be free, sir—in case we need to go into hiding.”
“You honestly think you could elude the Mafia?” Marilyn asked, skepticism written all over her face.
“In its heyday, no,” Grant said. “But I think my family’s severely compromised right now. They’ve lost Logan and Carlo. Uncle Angelo’s about to die, and I bet they’ve spent most of their money on my dad’s freedom. My dad would’ve demanded it.”
“I should inform my captain before I put feelers out to the task force,” Marilyn said. “They’ll have to move fast—the election’s only six days away. Task forces typically work quickly, but this is fast even for them.”
Grant nodded. “I propose we all meet back here tomorrow morning after we check out the feasibility of this plan.”
Grant turned to Jerry with a hint of trepidation. “Officer Stone, would you check with the head of the DOC about me going back inside, sir? Maybe give him a head’s up so he’s ready if the task force decides to move forward?”
Grant held his breath while Jerry grumpily considered his request, drumming his fingertips on the opulent oak table. Finally he caved. “Fine. But don’t expect miracles, Madsen. And since tomorrow’s Wednesday, do you two plan on just blowing off your weekly meeting?”
“Would it be okay if we met here at my dad’s house instead, Jerry?” Sophie asked. “It could sort of be like a home visit for you.”
She received some muttering under his breath as a response.
“Thank you, sir,” Grant replied, hoping for the best. Then he turned to look at Sophie’s father. “Mr. Taylor, would you talk to Governor Grogan’s people about this theory? See what they might’ve uncovered during the campaign?”
“Hell yes, I will. This’ll be the first good news the Republicans have had in months.”
“It might not work,” Grant cautioned, dropping his voice. “I might be wrong.”
“Could be,” Will said. “But it just feels right. I haven’t liked that Darko character from the second I met him. He’s slick.”
“You met him?” Marilyn looked curious.
“Yes, at the debate last winter. Tom introduced me to his opponent, and he just seemed off. He’s got shifty eyes or something.”
While the group pondered that characterization, Joe asked, “What do you need from me, Grant?”
His nephew guiltily returned his gaze. “I know you don’t agree with this plan, Joe—Sophie hates it too. But I promise I’ll keep myself safe. What I need is to learn all I can about my father before I go in there—his mannerisms, his likes, his dislikes. Even though I’m his son, I feel like I don’t really know him. I tried to avoid him the last time I was inside, but obviously I can’t do that now.”
When Joe nodded, Grant added, “And for Ben—I need you to help me come up with a plan to keep Ben safe if this whole thing goes bad, okay?”
“Of course.”
“But it’s not going to go bad, right?” Sophie pleaded.
“Right,” Grant confirmed, rising to standing and drawing her out of her chair as well. He wrapped his arm around her back and rested his hand reassuringly on her hip. “C’mon, let’s walk Detective Fox and Officer Stone out. I’m sure they need to get going.”
Will and Joe found themselves left staring uncomfortably at each other.
“Wow. That’s some plan your boy’s got there,” Will said.
Joe nodded. “I guess he must have inherited Enzo’s mastermind for strategy. There’s no way the family would be crumbling like it is if Enzo was still at the helm.” He exhaled derisively. “You know, I had a premonition that anyone named Darko had to be dirty.”
Will cracked a grin. “According to Tom, Darko is a derivative of the Serbian word for ‘gift.’ Tom found that rather ironic, since his opponent thrashing him in the polls certainly hasn’t felt like a gift.”
Taking a worried breath, Joe grimaced in agreement. The idea of Grant returning to prison, and being in close proximity with his father, didn’t feel like a gift either. Joe hoped the stars would align to keep his nephew safe.
22. Conflagration
“Now, Mr. Madsen,” FBI Agent Lucas Bounter said as he fiddled with Grant’s shirt, “make sure this microphone’s kept in the ‘on’ position the entire time you’re incarcerated, even if you’re not talking to the suspect.”
“Why’s that?” Sophie asked, leaning in toward the digital audio-recording console, pressing her palms flat against her father’s dining room table.
“It’s procedure,” Lucas gruffly replied. “We don’t want to give Barberi’s attorney any opportunity to question the investigation—alleging somebody threatened him while the mic was off or some such nonsense.”
“As if I could threaten him,” Grant scoffed, peering down at the button-sized digital voice recorder attached to his shirt collar. “This microphone seems sort of similar to the technology we used in the Navy.”
“Oh, like an underwater pinger locator?” Joe asked.
“Yes, sir, ’cept those were a heck of a lot bigger than this little guy.”
Joe glanced at the compact FBI agent. “And how does Grant get by with wearing the device in Gurnee?”
Lucas said, “It’s a good thing the task force was already sniffing around Jovanovich’s campaign funding, so we could mobilize right away when we heard Grant’s evidence. Between his information and what we already knew, the US Attorney was able to secure a warrant for the wire and the task force got the DOC to approve the operation.”
Jerry sighed, still not quite believing the DOC’s cooperation. “The warden and one of the COs are going to be in on it,” Jerry explained.
“The more people who know about this, the more likely the truth leaks out,” Joe countered. “Can we trust these men?”
“Warden Arthur’s a good man,” Jerry said. “Right, Madsen?”
Grant licked his lips. “I can’t honestly say, sir. The only interaction I had with him was when he threw me in the hole for standing up to my father.”
“But the other guys also went in the hole for fighting, right?” Jerry asked.
“No, sir.”
Joe inhaled sharply. “Enzo’s obviously bought off most of the guards in there. I do not want one of the COs in on the sting. It’s not safe.”
As Jerry snapped back, defending the corrections officers, Grant glanced uneasily at Sophie, who appeared pale and frightened.
He reached out for her, smoothing one hand down the side of her head, feeling her silky strawberry hair under his touch. “It’ll be okay,” he promised.
“It just seems like too much of a risk. Even if it works…”
“We’ll be all right. I won’t let them hurt you again, okay? The best defense is offense.”
She gave him a stern look. “That works with football, Grant, not with the Mafia.”
He offered a slight smile. “Well, the cons typically play football out in the yard this time of year, so maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe I’ll get a chance to tackle my dad.”
“Yes, tackle him, trip him, beat him up… I hope you grind his face in the mud.”
“Hey, I thought psychologists didn’t believe in violence,” Grant said.
She shook her head. “I know. It’s just that I hate that man. I hate him for what he did to you back then
, and I hate him for what he’s doing to you now—forcing you to go back inside.”
“He’s not forcing me to do anything, Sophie. I thought we agreed on this. We both agreed we’d get our lives back this way.”
“But that was when I thought this wouldn’t go through. I never thought they’d go for—”
“Cool!” Detective Marilyn Fox’s voice cut into their conversation. Agent Bounter was showing her some of the finer points of the audio surveillance system. “You guys get all the fun toys,” she said with a pout.
“They don’t have this up in Lake County?” Lucas teased.
Her eyes narrowed, and she elbowed him in the ribs. “Thanks for talking to my captain and convincing him I needed to be here today. Not having any official role is frustrating, but at least I get to see the action up close.”
Sophie allowed a faint smile to break through her worry as she watched Jerry, sensing competition, float over to Marilyn and Lucas.
“The mic looks kind of flimsy,” Jerry observed.
“It’s quite strong,” Lucas countered, picking up the Gurnee-issue powder blue button-down shirt and rubbing the microphone, which was disguised as a button near the shirt’s collar. “It’s been field-tested and approved.”
“How many live operations has the device been used for?” Joe asked.
Lucas paused.
“Agent Bounter?” Joe prompted.
“Well, this is a new technology, actually.” Reading the dismay on the commander’s face, Lucas rushed in to add, “But I can assure you it will work.”
“I don’t like this,” Joe protested. “I don’t like this one bit.” He met his nephew’s wary eyes across the table. “Don’t do this, Grant. If they catch wind of your scheme, if they find that microphone planted on you…”
“It’s too late to back out now,” Grant responded, quiet determination in his voice. He crossed over to his uncle and stood before him. “I have to do this, Joe. I can’t let my father win.”
“He won’t be winning. Who cares if he gets out—he’ll still be the same miserable, morally depraved man he’s always been. It’s not your responsibility to stop him.”
Bad Behavior [Confuct Series #2] Page 28