Hit List

by Darcia Helle

  Cameron cleared his throat. “I agree.”

  “I’ll talk to Holly,” Ian said. “I think she’ll want to protect the one daughter that still has a chance in life.”

  Relief flooded Ben’s face. “That would mean so much to me. Amy… She’s my world. I couldn’t stand for her to be hurt. I’ll do anything. I’ll take the blame for shooting Graham.”

  “No,” Cameron said. “That’s all mine. And I don’t think of it as blame. I want the credit for getting rid of the bastard.”

  Vinnie said, “I have no problem with this arrangement. However, aren’t we forgetting a potential problem?”

  “What?” Lucianna asked.

  “Holly’s husband. Brian, I believe his name is.”

  Lucianna groaned. “I forgot about him.”

  “Brian?” Cameron said. “What’s he got to do with this?”

  Ian said, “My mother says he’s the one who told her about Sara. He brought her the pink baby blanket and showed her a bunch of pictures. Of Sara, as a child, getting raped by older guys. Pretty explicit, from what she says.”

  “But that was Sara,” Lucianna said. “We have no reason to think he knows about Amy.”

  “We also have no reason to assume that he doesn’t,” Vinnie said.

  “Why would he…” Cameron stopped, let out a long breath. “How would he get that stuff?”

  “We can’t stand around with a dead body while we debate this,” Lucianna said. “The cops will know how long he’s been dead and want to know what the hell we were doing standing around when we should have called them.”

  “Make the call,” Vinnie said. “We’ll find Brian and have a little chat with him.”

  Sam had slipped outside during the discussion. He returned carrying the black leather case. He handed it to Ian and said, “This belongs to you.”

  Ian frowned at him. “What is it?”

  “Your money. I didn’t spend a dime.”

  ***

  Ben called the station, spoke to one of his detective friends, and gave the man a summary of the day’s events. At least the events they were willing to share. Teddy and Jack disappeared. They didn’t even need the puff of smoke. One minute they were standing there, the next minute the space was empty.

  Ian took Holly to his mother’s bedroom, gave her one of his mother’s Valium, and had her lay down. He spoke to her about Amy. Through her haze, she agreed that keeping Amy as their secret would be best. Then the Valium took over and she slept.

  Within twenty minutes, the outside was alive with flashing lights. Cops roamed the yard and the woods. A few stood around on the deck, looking uncomfortable. Ben stood with them, talking softly, weaving his tale.

  The crime scene unit worked their way through the kitchen. The coroner came, pronounced Graham dead as if there had been any doubt, and the body was removed. Minutes crawled by. Lucianna thought of the pizza they never got and Dylan stuck in the dark condo with only his dry crunchies. She sat on the couch with Ian, listened to him talk with his mother, enjoyed the pleasure on both their faces, and fought to keep her eyes open.

  Cameron was taken away in cuffs. A female cop took Sara. They were all questioned and statements were taken. Finally, hours later, the last police car drove away. Ian looked around the kitchen, flinched at the mass of blood and brain matter still clinging to the wall, and said, “I guess I should board up that window now.”

  “I’ll help you,” Sam said.

  Ian nodded and they moved off to the garage. Vinnie had slipped out almost an hour ago, after a discrete phone call. Lucianna sprawled on the couch, breathing a long sigh of exhaustion. Corinne sat in her rocker, warming her hands by the fire. She said, “I wonder what will happen to Sara.”

  “I don’t know,” Lucianna said. “I imagine they’ll give her a psyche evaluation. Maybe time in a hospital, rather than a prison.”

  “Do you think she’s crazy?”

  “Unfortunately, not in a legal sense.”

  Corinne nodded. “Too bad it’s not possible to see a tortured mind.”

  ***

  At four A.M., Lucianna went home to Dylan. She fed him, held him, and apologized profusely for his night alone. Then, showered and dressed in warm flannel pajamas, she slid under her covers and gratefully closed her eyes.

  Twenty minutes later the phone jarred her awake. She groped on the bedside table, finally found the receiver, held it upside down and mumbled, “Hello?”

  The distant voice sounded familiar. She peeled her eyes open, twisted the phone the other way, and said, “Huh?”

  “We found him,” Vinnie said.

  “Found who?” Dylan looked up at Lucianna with disgust. She stroked behind his ear and he closed his eyes again.

  “Whom.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” Vinnie said. “Are you awake now?”

  “I think so. I’m not sure.”

  “Holly’s husband,” Vinnie said. “Brian Ferrance.”

  “Oh.” Lucianna struggled to sit up. She rubbed her eyes, yawned. “Okay. Where is he?”

  “In his car. Dead.”

  “What?” Lucianna’s eyes sprang wide open. “You killed him?”

  “Of course not. We found him this way.”

  “What happened? Where are you?”

  “The airport,” Vinnie said. “He had purchased a ticket to California via the Internet. His destination was San Diego. We found his car in long term parking, way in the back, by itself. He is lying in the trunk, quite dead.”

  “How?”

  “Bullet to the back of the head.”

  “Oh my. Any thoughts on who did it?”

  “I know who did it,” Vinnie said.

  “Really? Care to enlighten me?”

  “Earlier this evening, rather, this morning, we inspected Mr. Ferrance’s office, which is situated at the back of his and Holly’s home. We located a safe hidden behind a painting. Inside were the photos that Corinne spoke of. Disgusting, I might add. Made me want to rip my eyes out.

  “At any rate, the envelope with the photos also held bands that the banks use to hold cash. A handful, which means they once held quite a large sum of money. And a note, effectively stating that he should make the delivery to Corinne to, quote, jog her memory.”

  “Nico?” Lucianna asked.

  “No, my dear. Although that would likely have been my conclusion as well, had I not received all the facts.”

  “Okay. So?”

  “According to Ian, Mr. Ferrance worked as a stockbroker.”

  “Right.”

  “Wrong,” Vinnie said. “Mr. Ferrance did trade stocks. However, they were all his own. His actual job, if you wish to call it that, was escorting young girls around the country. Getting them situated where they belong. Training them.”

  “Child prostitution?” Lucianna asked.

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “So doesn’t that bring us back to Nico and K Unit?”

  “You’d think so,” Vinnie stated. “But no. Mr. Ferrance had one boss and that boss was not affiliated with K Unit. We managed to find one paper in that safe, one piece of information, which gave us the truth. Then it all became clear.”

  “Then tell me,” Lucianna said. “Do you know how hard it is to follow this conversation at 4:30 in the morning on only twenty minutes of sleep?”

  Vinnie gave a soft chuckle. “Take your best guess, my dear.”

  Lucianna sighed. She rubbed Dylan’s soft head, closed her eyes. Then it popped into her mind and she said, “Graham. He worked for Peter Graham.”

  “Correct. I knew I’d raised you to problem solve.”

  “Then who killed him? Graham?”

  “I would say so,” Vinnie said. “Graham was intent on removing all loose ends. He knew things had the potential of crumbling down on him. You see, Graham was using his detective shield to destroy K Unit because they were his sole competition in his line of business. He had almost succeeded when Sara set out with her hit list.
She became priority because she knew the truth. She knew what he was.”

  “And Graham thought Corinne was her mother,” Lucianna said. “But why those pictures? What did he hope to gain by having Brian show Corinne those pictures?”

  “He wanted her scared. Terrified, in fact. Because Graham was aware of the hit list being circulated. He didn’t want Corinne calling the police. He couldn’t risk that.”

  “It all adds up.”

  “It does indeed,” Vinnie said.

  “Do you plan on calling the police?”

  “No. They’ll catch up on their own.”

  “What about Holly?” Lucianna asked. “Shouldn’t we tell her?”

  “That her husband enjoyed training girls to be sexual slaves?”

  “Hmm, when you put it that way…”

  “Indeed,” Vinnie said. “We closed up the office. The safe is locked and hidden. We removed the photos and note, destroyed it all.”

  “To protect Holly?”

  “To protect Holly’s children. Would you want to know that your father recruited adolescent girls for prostitution?”

  “No,” Lucianna said. “Definitely not.”

  “He’s dead. Their lives will go on.”

  “True.”

  “Now you know,” Vinnie said. “Do as you wish with the information. I’m taking the rest of the week off, flying to Vegas.”

  “Good for you,” Lucianna said. “Have fun.”

  “May I offer one bit of advice?”

  “Could I stop you?”

  “No. I was merely being polite. My advice is that you take that payoff money intended for Sam and enjoy. Explore Europe with Ian. You’ve always wanted to go back to Italy.”

  “Vinnie…”

  “Just a suggestion,” Vinnie said. His voice was light, happy. “You two work quite well together during a crisis. Maybe it’s time to see how well you do together in… other situations.”

  Lucianna laughed. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter 63

  Lucianna rested her head on Ian’s shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips against her hair, told her she smelled good.

  They floated along the canal in the gondola. The day sparkled with bright sunshine. She thought of Vinnie’s prompting to get her here and she smiled. Vinnie was one of a kind and she was lucky to have him.

  Tilting her head, Lucianna smiled at the man she’d fallen in love with and thought how lucky she was to have Vinnie as well. How many women can say they have two amazing men in their life?

  Ian leaned down, kissed Lucianna’s lips. He said, “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re pretty good to look at yourself,” Lucianna said.

  They floated along in silence for a while, comfortable and content. Ian slipped his hand into Lucianna’s hair, played with a strand. “My mother’s doing great,” he said. “She and Greg have become quite the item.”

  “I’ve noticed. I’m really happy for her.”

  “So I don’t need to be living there anymore.”

  “That’ll be nice,” Lucianna said. “To be on your own again.”

  “Yeah.” Ian was quiet a moment, then said, “I was thinking of building a house in one of the suburbs. Rob said he’d help me.”

  Lucianna looked at Ian, said, “I know that’s a huge amount of work. But it sounds like fun. Designing your own place. Anything you want.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do.”

  He kissed her forehead, gazed into her eyes. “I’m not much good with colors. I could use your help.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Hmm….” He fished in his pocket, produced a little black box. He toyed with it, said, “All that work.You’d have to get something out of it.”

  She grinned at him. “I agree.”

  “And, you know, if you pick the colors and help design the place, it’s only fair that you live in it too.”

  “And Dylan.”

  “Of course.”

  “He’d need a play area.”

  “Naturally.” A smile played on Ian’s lips. He fingered the lid on the box, said, “Speaking of Dylan. I think he needs a father.”

  “You do?”

  “Mmm-hmm. He’s quite spoiled. Needs a man around to give him direction.”

  “I see.”

  “So, for Dylan’s sake…” Ian lifted the top of the box, revealing a two-carat sparkling oval diamond. “I’m thinking we should get married.”

  “Make me an honest woman.”

  “Yes. That’s important.”

  Lucianna kissed Ian, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I think you’re right.”

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a short review.

  Other Books by Darcia Helle

  No Justice: A Michael Sykora Novel

  Beyond Salvation: A Michael Sykora Novel

  Killing Instinct: A Michael Sykora Novel

  Enemies and Playmates

  Miami Snow

  The Cutting Edge

  Into The Light

  Secrets

  Eli’s Coming

  Quiet Fury: An Anthology of Suspense

  About The Author:

  Darcia Helle lives in a fictional world with a husband who is sometimes real. Their house is ruled by spoiled dogs and cats and the occasional dust bunny.

  Suspense, random blood spatter and mismatched socks consume Darcia’s days. She writes because the characters trespassing through her mind leave her no alternative. Only then are the voices free to haunt someone else’s mind.

  Join Darcia in her fictional world: http://www.QuietFuryBooks.com

  The characters await you.

  Thanks for reading.