No Mercy

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No Mercy Page 23

by Cheyenne McCray


  Property of Nate O’Malley

  She lightly touched his script, the backs of her eyes aching with unshed tears at the thought of the boy and teenager she’d known. He had grown into a man and she hadn’t been here to see it. And now he was dead.

  Her throat still hurt from being nearly strangled, but from the desire to cry, too. She blinked rapidly, took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out before turning the first couple of pages. They were yellowed with age, and the book had the musty smell that older books tended to have.

  She wanted to continue, but she knew Dylan would want to look at it with her. She flipped to the back and saw that it was 263 pages. Who knew how many times Nate had read the book from cover to cover when he was young.

  The book jacket slipped off as Belle started to close the book. She started to put the jacket back the way it belonged when she felt something beneath it, on the back of the book.

  Dylan closed the door, but she barely heard it as she removed the book jacket and looked at the back.

  Her lips parted and her skin prickled as she stared at a disc that had been slipped into a handmade pocket made of ledger paper that was taped to the back of the hardcover book. BOB DYLAN was printed with a black marker on the gold DVD.

  Her heart rate picked up. She didn’t look away from the DVD, as if it might disappear, as her own Dylan sat on the couch beside her.

  Wordlessly, he pulled the book closer to him. He carefully slipped the DVD out of the pocket and held it by the edges, careful not to touch the surface

  She looked from the DVD to the Dylan who sat right beside her. “Do you think he wrote ‘Bob Dylan’ on it to throw off anyone who might see it?”

  Dylan gave a slow nod. “Sometimes, when we were goofing around, he’d call me Bob. Likely anyone who saw this wouldn’t think twice about it being me that it referred to. They would just think it was music.”

  Belle studied the unreadable expression on Dylan’s face. “I didn’t know he called you Bob.”

  Dylan shook his head. “He didn’t do it often, and just when we were alone.” He slipped the DVD back into its paper pocket. “Hold on.” He got to his feet and strode across the room to the door.

  He opened it and spoke to Agent Lutz. Belle couldn’t hear their conversation but watched as the agent nodded and responded before turning away. Dylan stayed in the doorway until Lutz returned and handed him something. When he turned and closed the door behind him, she saw that he was holding what looked like a slim laptop.

  When he sat on the couch beside her again, he set the laptop on the surface and booted it up. As he waited, he retrieved the DVD from its pocket.

  Belle realized she was holding her breath and let it out slowly. Her heart pounded even faster as he slid the DVD into a slot in the laptop.

  A directory came up and she saw a list of MP3 files, all of them with a Bob Dylan song title.

  Just Like a Woman

  Like a Rolling Stone

  Visions of Johanna

  Blowin’ in the Wind

  Tangled up in Blue

  Every Grain of Sand

  Mr. Tambourine Man

  Rainy Day Women

  I Want You

  Positively 4th Street

  Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

  “This one.” Dylan used the touchpad on the laptop to move the cursor over Tangled up in Blue. “If you look at this little icon, you can see it’s not a song. It’s a video.”

  “Hidden in the middle of Bob Dylan’s songs.” Belle looked at it in amazement.

  Beside her, Dylan clicked on the title. “If this isn’t actually a video of Bob.”

  Belle watched as a screen opened. For a few seconds the screen was black—and then Nate’s face appeared on the screen.

  An ache hit her full force in her chest as she stared at her friend. He was older, but the same eyes looked back at her that she’d known well.

  Nate looked directly into what had likely been his laptop’s or desktop computer’s camera.

  “Hey, Dylan.” Nate grinned, but then it faded a little. “If you’re listening to this, then likely I’m dead.” He gave a smile. “I hope you tossed my ashes over that ridge in the Mule Mountains, where the CoS used to hang out.”

  Belle put her hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. That was where they’d had Nate’s memorial.

  Nate looked serious. “And I hope Belle’s sitting right next to you, buddy. Where she belongs.”

  Belle’s stomach flipped as she lowered her hand and she looked to see Dylan’s gaze on her before they both looked again to Nate’s image.

  “Let’s get down to business.” Nate held up a ledger. “Two ledgers have gone missing from my office.” His expression turned serious. “You’re not going to like this, but I think Salvatore Reyes took them.” Nate hesitated. “I think there’s a good chance that he’s going to try to kill me.”

  A noise of protest escaped Belle. The thought that Nate expected an attempt on his life by Salvatore was another knife to the gut. She’d had a feeling, but hearing it from Nate was worse.

  “You’re probably wondering why I didn’t let you know in some other way, Dylan.” Nate’s throat worked as he swallowed. “You were undercover and I didn’t want to do anything that would lead Salvatore to you. That’s why I sent the postcards. If I die, I figure you’ll get with everyone in the CoS, and you’ll put all the pieces together. I’m sure that’s why you’re here.”

  Belle looked at Dylan and saw his hand fisted on his thigh. She touched him with her fingertips and he took her hand in his but didn’t look away from the computer screen. She felt his tension through their connection, but she wondered if he felt a little more grounded like she did as they held hands.

  “I may have made one mistake.” Nate rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips before looking at the camera again. “By now you know that I sent Christie a postcard, too.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want it to be obvious that I wanted you to find out Salvatore was involved by leaving Christie out. But the more I consider it, the more I think I screwed up. Damn, but I hope not.”

  You did, Belle thought with a sadness that tore through her like a knife. But you never could have imagined what Salvatore would do.

  Nate looked at the screen with an earnestness that made Belle squeeze Dylan’s hand tighter. “Find those ledgers, Dylan. They’re important. I’m certain Salvatore has a safe in his office. When I was there once, he went into his office and came back with ledgers Edmund had worked on.”

  A pause before Nate continued. “G.I. Joe…” He trailed off. “He and one of the ledgers have the keys. That’s all I’m going to say in case the wrong people discover this DVD.” Nate looked grim. “And there are a lot of the wrong people around.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as his throat worked again and he sounded choked up. “Salvatore forced me to kill a man not long ago.” Nate dragged his hand down his face, which had gone white. “He said he’d kill my friends if I didn’t do it and he put a gun to my head.” Nate’s eyes looked watery. “The guy’s name was Edmund Salcido, and he was Salvatore’s accountant. Apparently he was skimming off the top. Salvatore used him as an example of what he’d do to me if I didn’t help him and if I tried to cheat him, too.”

  Nate rubbed his face with his hand. “Salvatore made me slit the guy’s throat. Right in my living room. It was like Afghanistan all over again. After I killed Salcido and the man bled out, Salvatore made me clean up the blood while he watched. Blood had sprayed everywhere, Dylan. Fucking everywhere. Salvatore made me paint the walls and told me it would look like I tried to cover up the murder. I don’t know what they did with the man’s body, but I’m pretty sure they planted the weapon somewhere on my property. They did it so that they’d have more leverage against me.”

  Bile rose in Belle’s throat the whole time Nate spoke about the murder. She was certain she was going to throw up.

  He looked away from the camera, clearly choked up before re
turning his gaze to the camera again. “Your postcard is in the book and I hope that helps you find this. I just have to slip the DVD into the pocket and put it on the shelf and I know you’ll find it. I have no doubt you’ll remember how much I loved that book. I carried it everywhere and you know me well.”

  A dog’s ferocious barking started, sounding a little distant, like the dog was outside. “G.I. Joe is going crazy.” Nate moved away, disappearing from sight for a moment, then returned in front of the camera.

  A panicked look shot across Nate’s face. “Oh, shit. Salvatore just drove up with his men and they’re getting out of their cars. See you, Dylan.”

  The screen went black.

  Belle’s stomach churned and she barely kept from vomiting. “That was probably when they came for him—when they killed him.”

  Dylan squeezed her hand so tightly she felt like the bones might break. “Nate probably just had enough time to burn the DVD before putting it in the book and stuffing it on the shelf.”

  A tear rolled down Belle’s cheek. Dylan released her hand then cupped her face with both of his. He used his thumb to brush away the tear. “We’re going to get Salvatore, Belle. And we’re going to get Christie back. I promise you.”

  Belle closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. “I believe you.” He slid his fingers down until his hands rested on her shoulders. She sniffled. “Nate said we had to find those ledgers.”

  “Yes.” Dylan looked like he was considering it. An expression crossed his face, as if something had just dawned on him. He moved his hands from Belle’s shoulders. “I think I know just where the ledgers are.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Heart thumping, Dylan took Stillwater’s business card out of his wallet and dialed the FBI agent’s number.

  When she answered, he said, “I need you to meet me at Salvatore Reyes’s home. Bring the key I found in the humidor. I think I know where the safe is.”

  “It’s not a safe key.” Stillwater had a frown in her voice. “Not to mention we combed that place top to bottom, twice.”

  “Trust me.” Dylan felt a flash of irritation. “I can’t go into it now. Just meet me there.”

  “Give me an hour to get the key and meet you at the Reyes home,” Stillwater said before disconnecting the call.

  Belle stood. “I’m going.”

  Dylan considered it. Salvatore wasn’t likely to return to his home—or would he? He would want to get whatever it was out of the safe. Dylan believed Nate, who had been certain the safe was in Salvatore’s office.

  After he arranged for Brooks and Trace to accompany them, along with Agents Jim Heber and Clarice Lutz, they all headed to Salvatore and Christie’s home. Both Belle and Joe went with them.

  Stillwater took forty-five minutes to get there instead of an hour. She tore down the police tape covering the door and they entered the home. Clarice stood inside the doorway, Jim outside, while Brooks took the back and Trace stayed by the door to the office.

  Belle and Joe walked with Dylan and Stillwater into Salvatore’s office.

  “I’m hoping you’re right, Curtis.” Stillwater handed him the key when they were in Salvatore’s office.

  “I’m sure.” Dylan took the key and started toward the desk as he pulled a small flashlight from his pocket. “I’m betting Salvatore spilled his coke when he was putting it away.” The chair was already pushed back and Dylan knelt in the kneehole beneath the desk and illuminated the space with the flashlight.

  He ran his hands over the floorboards, which he had figured were worn from Salvatore’s shoes. Dylan felt a slight ridge and paused as he felt it. It was thin, not much bigger than a knife blade, and when he aimed the flashlight at it, he couldn’t see anything at first. But then he thought he saw a slight, virtually invisible line running horizontal to the vertical floorboards. Clearly a craftsman had been at work here if this was where the safe was located. Dylan would bet almost anything that he’d found the safe.

  He pulled out his pocketknife, flipped it open, and ran it along the vertical floorboard on the right, where the tiny gap was slightly bigger than on the other side and the horizontal end. When he moved the knife, it hit an obstruction. He wiggled the knife around. The way the knife slid around it, he guessed it was small, smooth, and round. He pressed the knife against it.

  A section of the floorboards started to rise.

  “Holy shit.” Stillwater was crouched beside him. “I think you just struck gold.”

  Beneath the floorboard was a square hinged door with a keyhole. Dylan tried to lift it, but it was locked. He held his palm up in front of Stillwater. “Key.”

  She dropped it into his palm. He slid the key in the keyhole and felt a click. This time the door rose when he pulled up.

  “I’ll be damned.” Stillwater sounded amazed as a safe came into view. “This thing would take some time to get out of here. We’ll have to get some guys down here with a torch.”

  The safe had a keypad. Dylan stared at it. “Maybe it’s something simple since the safe was hidden so well. He’s a cocky sonofabitch, so it’s possible he didn’t put a lot of effort into his password.”

  “Try Christie’s birthdate.” Belle spoke up from behind Stillwater.

  Belle gave him the date and he tried it on the keypad. He put in two digits for the month and date and used the last two digits of the year. When that didn’t work, tried all four numbers in the year then other combinations. “Nothing’s working.” He looked over his shoulder to Belle. “Do you know Salvatore’s birthdate?”

  She shook her head and frowned.

  “It’s in the database we use.” Stillwater took a big phone out of her pocket that was almost the size of a tablet. She swiped it and then pulled up information. “Here it is.” She called out the date.

  Again Dylan tried various combinations but none worked. He dragged his hand down his face. They’d have to wait for the damned torch, but even then, this one didn’t look like it would be easy. They were running on a clock. They needed to find Christie, and maybe what was in this safe would help.

  “What about Salvatore and Christie’s wedding date?” Belle had a bit of excitement in her voice. “He doted on her and called her his bride, even though they’d been married for some time. When I think about it, it seemed like he thought of her as a kind of prize that he’d won.”

  Dylan glanced over his shoulder again. “Do you know it?”

  “Christie told me it was a June wedding and that Salvatore had gone all out. I wasn’t there of course.” She shook her head. “But I don’t remember a date.”

  The marriage certificate flashed in Dylan’s mind. It had been in Salvatore’s center drawer. “Hold on a sec.”

  Stillwater and Belle backed up as Dylan came out of the kneehole and opened the center drawer. The certificate was still there. He looked at the date before ducking back under the desk and keying in the numbers on the pad, using two digits for the month, two for the date, and two for the year. Nothing.

  Next he tried the same, but four digits for the year. A heavy click and the door unlocked.

  “I’ll be damned,” Stillwater said again.

  “You and me both.” Dylan used his flashlight to illuminate the contents of the safe. It wasn’t very deep and he’d easily be able to take out items. He set down his flashlight. “Do you have gloves?”

  “And evidence bags in my SUV.” Stillwater stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dylan shone the flashlight in the safe as he waited. Stacks of cash, passports, what looked like the spines of ledgers and a thin laptop. In one corner he saw a bag of white powder. Salvatore had a bit of a coke problem, and that’s where he’d screwed up. Dylan wouldn’t have thought about the safe being there if it hadn’t been for the traces of cocaine beneath the desk.

  Stillwater returned in moments and handed Dylan a pair of latex gloves, then donned a pair herself.

  He slipped the gloves on and reached into the safe. The first things he pull
ed out were the passports. He flipped through them and saw they were under various other names for Salvatore and Christie. “Looks like he had contingency plans.” He handed them to Stillwater who also viewed the passports before dropping them into an evidence bag.

  Dylan continued to pull items out of the safe. A laptop that he recognized as Nate’s, but with a missing hard drive; stacks of ledgers—some in Nate’s handwriting; a small stash of cocaine; and stacks of one hundred dollar bills. It looked like at least a million in cash had been hidden in the safe.

  When he flipped through some of the older ledgers, he saw names of criminals he knew and others he didn’t. The ledgers had likely been passed down because some were too old to have been Salvatore’s.

  Dylan stopped and his skin grew cold when he saw Harvey Driscoll’s name. Next to his name was the sum of $10,000.

  Driscoll. It was likely the payout for Ben Curtis’s murder. Dylan’s dad had died for ten grand and a family had been destroyed. Not to mention Belle’s life had altered drastically with the knowledge when she had heard her stepfather discussing it with her mother. It wouldn’t have mattered if Ben Curtis had been murdered for a million or more. The results were the same.

  Dylan’s throat nearly closed off as memories of his dad slammed into him.

  Followed by images of his dad’s funeral.

  Dylan handed the old ledger to Stillwater to bag. “Put that one in a separate bag. In it is evidence of a payout for a murder. My father’s murder.”

  Stillwater said nothing as she slipped it into another bag and marked it.

  When the safe was empty, down to the last quarter found at the very bottom, Dylan backed out from under the desk and stood. He hadn’t expected that he would find pain beyond Nate’s murder in that safe.

  Gunfire erupted from an automatic weapon.

  The sound of glass shattering.

  Shouts came from the living room.

 

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