Just Cause

by Carolyn Arnold

  “I will. You too.”

  Higgins lifted his hand and gestured as if embarrassed by the reciprocal compliment. He had always been that way—modest and not requiring praise for his hard work.

  “Do you really think they’re going to keep an old dog like me down?” His eyes found hers. “It was just a bullet. They’ll need more than that. Superman.” His smile drained from his mouth and his eyes closed again.

  It was time to go.

  “You get some rest.” She leaned over him and kissed his forehead. A single tear fell as she did so.

  -

  Chapter 56

  MADISON AND TERRY WERE BACK at their desks at the station. The action she’d taken against Barnes was concluded as a justified shooting. Now, it was time to come clean with her partner.

  “I remember how everything took place.”

  “At the warehouse?”

  “Yeah. The girl at the front closed shop and left. There was a noise coming from the back. I went to investigate.” She studied his eyes. Would he judge her for this or understand? “I did have my gun readied. You know where I was?”

  Something in Terry’s eyes told her that he condoned her action.

  “When I went through the doorway, it wasn’t long before Sergey came down from upstairs. I was right at the base, about to go up. Anatolli came up behind me and held a gun on me. Sergey tried to take my gun away, but I knew if he did, I was as good as dead. I also knew if I fired on him, Anatolli would pull his trigger.”

  “You gambled with your life.”

  She took a heaving breath and went on. “I pulled my trigger. Anatolli pulled his.”

  “His bullet must have gotten Sergey.”

  “Mine went into the wall, so that would make sense.”

  “You got lucky.”

  “I think so. I don’t even know how I managed to escape the bullet. I must have dropped just in time.” Tears beaded in her eyes, but she willed them away. “You have my word. I will never put my life at risk like that again.”

  Seconds passed with Terry looking in her eyes. Eventually he lowered his head, accepting her promise.

  With that behind her, her thoughts turned to Higgins in that hospital bed.

  “How is Higgins doing?” Terry asked as if he could read her mind.

  “No more updates, but knowing him, he’ll pull through this. He’s too stubborn not to. There’s one place I’ve got to go, Terry, and you’re not going to like it.”

  “I know what you’re going to say, so don’t bother. We can’t be running to the prison—”

  “Let me tell him we have Barnes and that we’re on to his assassin.”

  “But we’re not. Barnes has lawyered up and he’s not saying a thing.”

  “Dimitre doesn’t have to know that.”

  “You’ll get the man killed.”

  “I can’t save everyone.” Maybe that was harsh, but it was reality. “I think it’s just like we were thinking before. Dimitre knew his men had tried to pull one over on him. He had Douglas killed, his maid, and his lover because he must have known he had the location of the bodies. He didn’t trust him any longer, once I stirred everything up.” With that realization, intense pain filled her soul. Her hands were stained with the blood of the innocent—the same ones she sought justice for.

  Terry took a few steps away from her and circled back around. “I agree. Dimitre was biding his time.”

  “Okay, again, so we’re clear. When Lexan was first pronounced, it was a rouse, something he had orchestrated. We believe Sergey and Anatolli fed Dimitre a lie, telling him they had killed the lawyer.”

  “But he realized it wasn’t their work.”

  “Yes. Dimitre knew that his men had lied to him, but they ended up following through. They hired a killer for the hit—the same man who is cleaning up for Dimitre now.”

  “I think I see where you’re going with this. So because Sergey and Anatolli made good and killed Lexan, Dimitre let them live like we’ve discussed before.”

  “Exactly, but with everything going on now—”

  Terry finished her thought. “He’s not going to let things be anymore.”

  “Well, he hasn’t, has he?”

  “So we’re looking for another man, directly on Dimitre’s payroll.”

  “I have no doubt, and the worst part is with Sergey and Anatolli we had faces to put to the organization. With this other person we do not.”

  “There’s got to be a database that shows all Dimitre’s known associates,” Terry said.

  “There is, and you would think I had all their faces memorized.”

  “Okay, why don’t you—”

  Her cell phone rang, and she held up a finger to Terry as she answered. A few seconds later, she was thanking her caller and screening through the menu on her phone. She brought up the picture Cynthia had sent her and held it for Terry to see.

  “We have hand impressions from the person who broke Douglas’s neck.”

  Terry leaned over to see the photo. “Big hands.”

  “Yeah. Cynthia estimates our guy would be six foot eight.”

  “A Russian giant.”

  “Yeah.” Madison let the single word fall out on an exhale.

  “I can’t talk you out of seeing Dimitre, can I?”

  “I don’t see what other choice I have.”

  Terry walked away and Madison’s phone rang again. She answered to Chelsea.

  “A reporter called me. He called Mom too. He’s nosy, Maddy. Why is he prying into your personal life?”

  “He’s a reporter, that’s what they do.” What she really wanted to know was why King was harassing her family.

  “You haven’t answered my question. What’s going on? Why is this man asking about Grandpa?”

  Madison coughed, her saliva had gone down the wrong pipe. “What did he ask you?”

  “He wanted to know if I knew the real reason you became a cop if I knew the connection between our family and the Russians. What is he talking about?”

  She wasn’t ready to go there with her sister yet and wasn’t sure if any time would be right. “I’m sorry, Sis, but please just trust me. I will tell you.”

  “Maddy, you can’t leave me like this. Please tell me.”

  Madison’s heart was breaking. “Please.”

  Seconds passed while her sister seemed to contemplate her plea.

  “Fine, but I told him I didn’t know anything and that’s the truth. I’m kept in the dark.”

  “Love you, Chels, but I’ve gotta go.” She hung up, feeling a blend of anger and pain—anger at a reporter who didn’t know his boundaries and pain over no longer being able to protect her sister from the truth.

  -

  Chapter 57

  “THEY DIDN’T KILL THE LAWYER on your orders.”

  Dimitre’s cheeks twitched. “I told you that. I didn’t kill him. I even wrote to you.”

  “Oh, I think you did kill him.” Madison leaned forward across the table. She scanned his face, intimately, as if she had impure intentions.

  “You talk in circles, da?” Dimitre laughed.

  “The first attempt, or should I say cover-up, it tricked you. You were made a fool of.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “No. See, I know what happened. Sergey and Anatolli told you they took care of Lexan, but they never did. You found out.”

  His eyes skipped to a place behind her for a second.

  “But eventually they did take care of Lexan, didn’t they? I mean, otherwise Sergey and Anatolli would have been long dead by now.”

  Underlying amusement lifted his cheeks, but his eyes remained dark.

  “I just don’t understand why you waited so long to get vengeance. To claim back your power.”

  “You know nothing.”
<
br />   Madison sat back in her chair. “Are you certain of that?” This was the time to call his bluff.

  “Ah, I see what you are doing. Setting trap. I will not bite.”

  “You don’t have to bite anything, but we know about your set-up here. Your guard, Jacob, has been fired. We know that he was bought. And the warden is suspended, pending an investigation.” She circled a finger in the air to take in the room. “This little Club Med you have going,” she slapped her hands together, “is over.”

  “You are bullshitting me.”

  “Am I?” She held eye contact with him, and after he had glanced away, she stood.

  “Detective.”

  She faced him.

  He spoke a few words in Russian, and she knew he had just made an oath to have her killed. Everything was working according to plan. She had promised Terry that she wouldn’t risk her life, but she had to draw Dimitre’s man out of hiding somehow, and it wasn’t coming from the mouth of Donald Barnes.

  MADISON CAME BACK TO FIND Terry at his desk. He was working through Dimitre Petrov’s known associates.

  “Getting anywhere?”

  “I’m looking for a tall man with large hands. What do you think?” He clicked his mouse to get to the next picture and then looked over his shoulder at her. “What about you?”

  “We’re on the right track.”

  “He confirmed our theory?” He spun in his chair.

  She let out a small laugh. “You’re kidding, right? But, no, we’re on the right track.” The way he was looking at her made her feel guilt over using herself as bait. She broke eye contact with him and looked at his monitor. “Him.”

  The man definitely fit the description of Douglas’s killer. He was six foot nine, an extra inch taller than Cynthia’s estimate. His face was taut, with sharp angles and his hair was bleach-blond. His name was Constantine Romanov. The last known address on file was in Russia. He had never been charged with any crimes in the United States but was tagged as an associate of the Russian Mafia.

  “Ah, Maddy.” Terry shook a piece of paper in front of her face. “This is a case report for Douglas’s lover, Lillian Norton. Remember how eyewitnesses said they saw a man in the neighborhood on the day of the murder?”

  “Yes, of course, I—blond and large.” What had she done? She hugged herself but dropped her arms hoping Terry hadn’t noticed.

  “We have our connection.”

  “Yeah, too bad we don’t know where to find him,” she said, infusing a flare of bravado, hoping Terry would buy the line.

  -

  Chapter 58

  ON THE WAY HOME, Madison had stopped by to see Higgins in the hospital, and he was improving. He’d be just fine and end up with those bragging rights he wanted.

  She checked her voice mail and there was a message from Ph.D. Tabitha Connor and she was in a heated mood. She said that she couldn’t be bought and coerced into signing off on a patient. She told Madison she expected a call back to rebook another appointment.

  As the elevator went to her floor, she rested against one wall and shut her eyes. Minutes from now she’d be riding it back down with Hershey. The poor guy probably really needed to go. She had slipped home quickly during the day, but that was many hours ago at this point.

  The elevator chimed its arrival and she sauntered down the hall, struggling with freeing her keys from her jeans pocket. She slipped it in—the door was already unlocked.

  Hershey.

  She didn’t think before she stormed into her apartment.

  In the light casting through the windows, she made out his silhouette on her couch.

  “How nice of you to join me, Detective. I’ve been waiting all night.”

  Shit! That had worked faster than she’d expected. She must be good bait.

  She reached to her waist and drew her gun.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He turned on a side-table light, leaving Madison’s eyes to adjust to the brightness. When they did, she realized Constantine held Hershey under his right arm. “We’ve been waiting for you. Why don’t you put the gun down?” He put his hands on both sides of the dog’s head, staring down into his eyes. “Cute dog you have here. But I’ve never seen the purpose of dogs. They are so vulnerable. It would only take one twist and your little hush puppy would be in doggie heaven.”

  “You sick son of a bitch! I’ll kill you myself, I swear it.”

  “Weapon down and out of reach. Now.” He pulled a gun and held it to Hershey’s head. “See, now, I’d smile at the talk from your inflated ego, but there’s no point.”

  The dog barked. He knew the danger that now existed.

  “You Americans smile all the time. You have your happiness and dreams, plans of grandeur. It makes me sick. It’s unnatural.”

  Madison bent and put the gun on the floor. As she did, she studied the weapon he held—it matched the type that killed the maid.

  “There. Was that so hard?”

  She needed to get Hershey away from him. “This doesn’t need to involve the dog.”

  “Oh, you have a sentimental attachment to him. How cute.” He pet his head. Hershey kept barking, the sound sinking into a growl.

  “Hershey, it’s okay. Come here, buddy. Come here.” Madison lowered to her haunches. If only she could figure out a way to resume full height with her gun, but the time window was too narrow.

  “You tell him when it’s okay to come and go? Like he’s a slave? Does he answer to a bitch? No good man should. Right, Hershey.”

  “Get away from him. I mean it.”

  “Or what? What are you going to do? Talk me to death?” Constantine laughed.

  Hershey managed to slip from his reach and came scurrying across the room to Madison.

  She hurried to grab ahold of him and took him down the hall to her bedroom. She closed him inside.

  She heard the footsteps heavy behind her.

  Constantine grabbed her by the hair, fingernails digging into her scalp.

  A cry escaped her throat.

  He pulled her into the living room. Her body arched backward as she tried to keep pace with him. He tossed her onto the couch as if she weighed nothing. For the first time, Madison had a real sense of the man’s proportions. He was a giant among men.

  “You get your nose involved where it doesn’t belong.” He came at her with the agility of a linebacker.

  “You’re not going to get away with this.” She lifted her arms to cover her face and he dropped down over her. His massive structure surrounded her, seemingly without effort. She struggled beneath him and felt her power ebb as waves of defeat pulsed through her. But she couldn’t give in. This was a fight for her life.

  He held up the gun, pointing it at her. “Do you want it quick, or nice and slow?”

  Her head pounded from his pulling on her hair and it was hard to think clearly. She thought of bringing her knee up swiftly, but it would only send him jutting forward. She would risk him firing his gun in the process.

  Son of a bitch! Think!

  “We have time before you go out. You want a good-bye present?” His face lit into a sneer. He lowered down over her and ran his tongue from her chin to the side of her eye. “You have never had it so good, bitch.” He leaned back, placing his gun on the coffee table her grandmother had given her.

  At this moment, with her life flashing before her yet again, she remembered what her grandmother had told her. Madison, we hold it over men in three ways. We’ve got the looks, the brains, and the ability to see things through.

  He was unlatching his belt.

  Madison’s focus kept drifting to the table and the gun he had forfeited in a rush for pleasuring himself—and violating her—but she couldn’t be caught looking at it.

  “You are a big man.”

  “Don’t worry. It will only h
urt a little bit.” He laughed and she felt him growing against her.

  She couldn’t go out like this. She wouldn’t. She refused.

  She reached out and touched his chest.

  His head was still angled down to work on his pants, but he raised his eyes upward to look at her. He gripped her hand and squeezed it so hard she thought her wrist would pop.

  “Please, I just want to see all of you.” The words propelled bile into her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow it. “I love a man’s chest.”

  “You are into this now?” He stopped moving.

  “Please. Just let me see you.”

  Seconds passed. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Was he on to her? Her mind was only on one thing—survival. Willingness made these types uninterested.

  “You first, sweetheart.”

  He put his hands on her lower abdomen and she almost reached for the gun, but it would have been premature. It wasn’t time. Yet.

  He found the base of her shirt and ripped the material up her torso until she lay exposed, her breasts screened off by her bra alone.

  Her stomach tossed. She was calling on what her grandmother had taught her. She would prevail. She would endure. She would survive.

  His hands wrapped around the back of her and unclasped her bra. “I should just strangle you with this.”

  She had to place herself out of body. She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, she did her best to be seductive. “Now show me yours.”

  He sat back and lifted his shirt over his head.

  She had a second, or less, at most. She maneuvered over and grabbed the gun. The bullet burrowed into his left shoulder.

  Constantine dropped his arms. His shirt was left bunched up beneath his armpits. A hole of crimson spread from the wound, feeding across his chest. There was a look of bewilderment etched on his facial features. His eyes fell heavily and she heaved him off her. His head hit the coffee table on the way down.

  Score another for Grandma.

  The door to her apartment was kicked in, and Terry and Matthews barged through, both with guns readied.

  “What the shit! Get out of here. I’m not even dressed. Crap!” Madison crossed her arms to cover herself and shot off the couch. With what fabric remained of her shirt, she wrapped it around herself.