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Break Point

Page 16

by Danielle LaBue


  Al laughed, a taunting cackle that echoed in Jake ears. “Still acting on those wild impulses, aren’t you, Jake. You know that’s why I asked you to throw that race in the first place. I figured you would never say no to adventure.”

  Jake smacked him across the face, the force sending him to the floor. But as if to mock him, Al staggered to his feet, dusting the shards of glass from his tailored pants.

  “Let me tell you something, Jake. I’m a firm believer in the ends justifying the means. Granted, the original idea behind Summer’s situation may have been born out of a little selfishness on my part, but she’s going to end up better off.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you had a million or so good reasons why you arranged your own daughter’s attack.” Jake grabbed him by the lapel, then dragged him to the supply room door. With inhuman force, he kicked it open, tossing him on the ragged couch in the corner. “Start talking,” Jake barked and pulled the string on the naked light bulb overhead.

  With the deliberate speed of a stalling man, Al lit his cigar and took a long drag before returning the lighter to his jacket pocket. “Anston Vitalie and I have never been friends. He was my daughter’s coach for years, but we didn’t get along. He always acted like he knew better than me what was best for her.”

  “I wonder where he got that impression.”

  “So I see him one night about a year ago at a party in South Beach. He’s whining to anyone who’ll listen about how he’s filing for bankruptcy because his old partner, Geoffrey Martin is luring all the players into signing management deals with him.”

  “Summer being one of them.” Jake said.

  “Sure. She was the crown jewel. Geoffrey makes more a year off Summer’s endorsements than what Vitalie makes in five with his school.”

  “So one man’s misery is your business opportunity.” Jake quipped. “How do you get from that to whacking your own daughter?”

  Al shifted in his seat, the cloud of smoke swimming over his head. “I didn’t have her whacked,” he calmly corrected. “All I wanted was to fix the match. She agreed to help me but she changed her mind. So, I had to work around her. Improvise.”

  “Then you and Vitalie set it all up.”

  Al nodded in the affirmative. “All he had to do was loosen a few strings on each of Summer’s racquets, just enough to throw her off. But he freaked out and stabbed her.”

  “That upset you?”

  “Hell yes, it upset me! She’s my baby.”

  “And what about the mail?” Jake demanded. “Summer was sent threatening mail.”

  Al rolled his eyes. “Another bright idea of Vitalie’s. He hired some moron to send Summer threats in the mail. He thought it would throw off the investigation if anyone ever questioned him. The most likely suspect would be the one who threatened her in the first place.”

  “Did you know Summer’s saliva was on the seals?”

  Al laughed like the news surprised him. “That’s Anston for your. Neurotic and paranoid.”

  Jake was surprised how forthcoming Al was with his information. A better man would have acknowledged a shred of remorse, but Jake needed to believe the worst. On a shelf behind Al, he spied a roll of duck tape. He retrieved it, then motioned for Al put his wrists together.

  “Why didn’t you kill Vitalie?” Jake asked. “Not like you to leave loose ends.”

  “Believe me I thought about it. But I came up with something better.”

  “Better?”

  Al nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, his hands now bound together. “I told him that I’d spare his life if he gave me everything else. His stocks, bonds, private plane, two yachts and his whole compound here in Bonita Springs. Seemed like a fair trade.”

  “Sure.” Jake sneered. “Summer loses everything but you make out.”

  “Hey, if it wasn’t for Summer, I would have killed him.” Al corrected, pointing at him with the glowing end of his cigar. “Why do you think I got Geoffrey involved?”

  Jake nodded as he wound the tape around his ankles. “Geoffrey, huh? I didn’t know you were friends.”

  Al shrugged. “Sure, why not. He’s decent to Summer and has the added bonus of being Swiss and neither one of us have anything against their banking system.” He smiled gnawing on the end of his smoke. “We’ve done business for a long time.”

  “This was a joint venture then?”

  “Not at first.” Al corrected. “I told him I’d hand him the school if he agreed to marry Summer and convince the Tennis Federation to drop the investigation in to her attack.”

  “Did you know he’d been signing deals for Nila Norcova in place of Summer?”

  “It doesn’t surprise me. He gets a bigger cut that way. But what the hell is the difference? Summer’s the one who benefits. Geoffrey will be her husband. More money to go around.”

  “So you planned this whole marriage thing too.”

  “At the time, no one knew if Summer would ever play again. I figured this way if she couldn’t, she'd have the school to run. She loves that place and I know she loves kids. With Geoffrey she could have a family. I do look out for my daughter you know.”

  “Weren’t you afraid Vitalie would talk?”

  “And say what? He was just as deep into it as any one of us.”

  Jake stood back up, satisfied, by his handiwork. Picking Al up by the collar, he shoved him to his knees on the floor.

  “So why hire me, Al?”

  Al shook his head, as if realizing his fatal mistake. “I thought we were friends. I thought you’d look out for me.”

  “The hell with Summer, right?” Jake felt his composure snap, his stomach tightening with a jolt. His leg shot out from under him, landing square in Al’s gut.

  “Get up!” Jake taunted, pulling his gun back out from its holster. “I’m not finished with you!”

  Al pushed up, balancing on his knees, blood dripping from his mouth. In Jake’s experience, even the worst killers feared their own death. The glint of panic in Al’s eye revealed he was no different. Jake lifted the gun, his knuckles white from the grip. He licked his lips and held his breath, his finger poised on the trigger.

  “What are you going to get out of killing me, Harrison? You’d have your revenge but what will Summer have? Her career will be ruined. She might even head to prison. No Geoffrey, no school. She’d have nothing.”

  The words crowded his brain. He took a breath, then slowly let it out. “Shut up, Riley.”

  “Is killing me really worth what it? Vitalie is dead. Let this whole thing die with him.”

  A bead of sweat ran down Jake’s neck. This was the moment that had sustained his existence for eight years. Big Al Riley at his feet, a breath away from death. His finger twitched on the trigger. One squeeze and it was over.

  Jake aimed between the eyes. His eyes. The same deep green. The same resolve with a rebel’s edge. Jake had seen fear in them before.

  These were Summer’s eyes.

  In that instant something tripped in his mind. He lowered the gun, panting as if he’d been socked in the gut. The light bulb swung above them, the string squeaking as it twisted in the rafter. A sudden calm swept over him. He looked down at Al, his eyes still wide when Jake thrust his foot into his face.

  Al tumbled into the corner knocking over a stack of boxes, then re-emerged rubbing his jaw. “You’re a good man, Harrison.” Al gasped. “Really, I knew you’d come to your senses.”

  Jake strode out the door, his head beginning to throb.

  “She’s changed you, Harrison!” Al called after him.” Before you met her, you would have killed me first and asked questions later.”

  “Lucky for you.” Jake mumbled, as he headed back out into the night.

  ***

  Jake shoes left little red puddles of blood as he trudged up rain soaked stairs. He felt like he was sure he looked. Tired. Beaten. Torn. When his hand grasped the doorknob, he noticed his gnarled bloodied knuckles. Like the appendage belonged to an animal rather than h
imself.

  The CD tape was still in his pocket, suddenly heavier than before. But listening to it would have to wait. All that mattered now was getting Summer safely through the night and on the court tomorrow.

  The smell of burning birch watered his eyes when he stepped through the door. Leslie sat on the couch in the great room with a blanket pulled around her and a coffee cup in her hand.

  “I heard you pull in.” Her forehead wrinkled when she looked at him. “I put some coffee on. But maybe you want to get in the shower or something. You look awful.”

  “You cranked up the fireplace,” he thought out loud. “You must want to talk.”

  “I was hoping you would want to.”

  He smiled, his eyes following her over to the kitchen counter. “Actually I do need to talk to you about a few things. I need some advice.”

  She pulled the coffee pot from the machine, pouring him a cup. “You went to see Big Al tonight, didn’t you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “You have that look. Plus when you bolted from the crime scene tonight I figured you had big plans.”

  Jake came up to the counter and sat on the stool across from her. “I guess you know me pretty well by now, huh?”

  “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  “No, but I was close.” Jake didn’t miss the relief in her eyes.

  “He has something to do with it, doesn’t he?”

  “He is it, Leslie. Classic Al Riley. He planned it with Vitalie. They’re all in on it. Vitalie, Geoffrey?”

  “Summer?”

  He closed his eyes. “I don’t know. That’s my problem.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tape and flung it on the counter.

  “What’s that?”

  “A smoking gun.” He took a gulp of coffee while he considered where to start. “Tonight at the party, I saw the guy from the bar. The one with the tattoo. His name is Malcolm Rodriguez. He was one of the waiters.”

  “Really?” Leslie leaned across the counter. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Hell, yeah I talked to him. That’s where I was when Vitalie took Summer.” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “He told me he was sending Summer mail at Vitalie’s request to throw off the investigation.”

  “And?”

  “And he told me about this tape.” He took it out of her hand, flipping it back on the counter. “Vitalie taped all his conversations with Al for insurance.”

  “So, what about Summer’s saliva on the envelopes?” Leslie reminded him. “You’re saying she was set up?”

  “It wouldn’t be hard. Vitalie owns her house for Christ sake.”

  Leslie picked up the tape and held it up to the light. “Jake, this is great. You might have Al right where you want him. So, what’s the problem?”

  “Summer. If her agreeing to the attack was recorded, no one is ever going to believe otherwise.”

  Leslie leaned against the counter exhaling loudly. “Does Al know you have it?”

  “He doesn’t know it exists.”

  “Okay, but what about this Malcolm guy? How do you know he won’t warn Al?”

  “I don’t,” Jake admitted. “But he seemed pretty into protecting himself. Plus, if I had arrested him, I would have to turn in the tape with him.”

  Leslie lifted her chin as if she suddenly understood the crux of the problem. “Oh I see, your issue isn’t how to get Al, its how to protect Summer.” Her face darkened with disapproval. “You’re taking a lot of chances here, Jake.”

  “I’m trying to do right by everyone.” He corrected. “Look, I’ll turn it in when the time is right, but as long as Al doesn’t know it exists, he won’t come looking for it, which means Summer is safe.”

  “For now” Leslie said.

  “Yeah, for now.” He looked back toward the open bedroom door. “Where is she anyway?”

  “Sleeping out in the gazebo. I helped her turn on the fire pit about an hour ago, but don’t worry I keep checking on her.”

  He turned toward the window, spying the orange glow of the fire by the beach. “Did she talk to you at all?”

  “Some” she replied “She definitely had a lot to say about Geoffrey. I guess she thinks he has something going with Nila. She says after the match she’s breaking off the engagement.”

  “Really?” His heart kicked him in his chest. “Well, it’s probably for the best. The guy’s a loser.”

  “I got that impression.”

  “But she sure is something isn’t she?”

  “You would know better than I would.” She sighed, then walked around the counter taking a seat beside him. When she placed her hand on his shoulder, he recognized the gesture as her attempt at sincerity. “Before I leave you here with her, I feel like I need to say something.

  Her serious tone reminded him of his impending headache, so he went for his pill bottle on the counter. Dropping two in his hand, he popped them in his mouth and swallowed.

  “Okay, lay it on me.”

  “Jake, I know you hate lectures but I can’t help it when you insist on being your own worst enemy.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I know better than anyone how you don’t tolerate personal feelings interfering with work. You need to listen to that tape. And if there are things you don’t want to hear, you need to deal with it as a professional. You need to bring her in.”

  The part of his brain that still housed a shred or objectivity told him she was absolutely right. At the very least Summer was a witness to potentially a slew of crimes. But if he stretched the rules like he loved to do, he could say he had her in protective custody. “I’m not doing anything until tomorrow. She’s waited for so long for this opportunity and I don’t want to ruin it.”

  Leslie’s patted him on the hand. “Okay, I won’t say another word about it until after the match. But you are too good at what you do to ruin it over a fling. Just keep that in mind.”

  The word “fling” hit him wrong. It was obvious now what he felt for Summer was more than a simple attraction. He had never in his whole life loved a woman, and sometimes he wondered if he would even recognize it if it ever happened to him. Maybe that’s what made him smile when saw her and his insides sizzle when he touched her. But right now he wasn’t interested in defining his feelings. Not tonight.

  “Don’t worry Leslie, I’ll do what I have to.” That was the truth he decided as he trudged off to the shower.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Summer nestled further under the flannels sheets, ducking a gust of ocean wind. It probably wasn’t the best night to sleep out in the gazebo, but it felt very freeing. It was good to know she could close her eyes and the only thing threatening her was rain, and even that was letting up. The moon now peeked out from the cover of grey clouds, casting blue shadows across the sky, and the roaring fire in the pit beside her made up for the lingering chill.

  She rolled over, letting the heat hit her in the face. The vision of Anston’s gun poised at her head still lurked in her brain, but her years of sports psychology had taught her nothing good came from negative thoughts. So she concentrated on tomorrow. Her chance to take her life back and reminded herself how much better it was for having Jake in it.

  A log shifted in the pit, startling her eyes opened. She jumped when she saw the darkened figure standing over the flames with large piece of wood hoisted over his head. She bolted up and gasped.

  “Hey, its okay. It’s just me.”

  She held her hand over her heart and cursed. “Jake, you scared me.”

  “I’m sorry, I just wanted to build the fire up. The last thing we need is for you to catch a cold the night before your match.” He turned back to the pit and chucked the log on the fire.

  The match. After everything that had transpired tonight, she was shocked he even remembered. She watched him maneuver the ashes with the metal poker, sending yellow and orange specks through the air. He shaded his face with his hands and even in the da
rkness, she could make out the deep purple cuts along his knuckles. “Jake, were you in a fight?”

  He set the poker down and looked over his handiwork. “What are you talking about?”

  She climbed out of bed and went to him, carefully holding his wrists. “What happened to your hands? They didn’t look this way when you left Vitalie’s.”

  “Nothing a band aid or two won’t heal.”

  He released his hands from hers, then sat down on the edge of the bed. The way he squinted at the fire told her the pain of a headache was nagging him more than any scrapes on his knuckles. So she crawled up beside him, and pressed her chilled fingers against his temples. “Feel better?”

  She took his moan for a “yes”.

  A soft breeze kicked up, bringing the citrus scent of Jake’s freshly washed hair to her nostrils. She kissed the top of his head, before sliding her arms around him.

  “I’m sorry about Vitalie,” she heard him say. “I had to do it though. You know that, right?”

  “Of course I know, Jake. You saved my life.”

  “I just don’t want you to think less of me. I mean, the things I’ve done”

  Of course she felt bad about Anston. Even after what had happened, it was hard to erase a lifetime of loyalty. But if Jake felt badly, she wanted to make sure he knew he shouldn’t. She crawled around to face him, bringing her mouth to his.

  “Summer, stop.”

  She fell back on her knees when he jumped off the bed, her heart seizing when he wiped the kiss from his lips. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did I do something?”

  “You didn’t do anything, sweetheart.”

  “If this is about my engagement to Geoffrey, you don’t have to worry. I’m not marrying him.”

  “It’s not Geoffrey. Believe me.”

  “Then what is it?”

  His chest heaved with a breath before he cursed through clenched teeth. “I didn’t want to tell you this but I guess I have to now.”

  She watched his brow wrinkle and her pulse quickened. ”What is it, Jake? You’re scaring me.”

  “Your father.” He finally said. “He was behind the attack after all. He was in cahoots with Vitalie.”

 

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