“Ow! That fucking hurt.”
“Here’s the deal. I ask questions and you answer them. If you don’t answer, you get hit. Where’s your father?”
“He’s dead, all right.”
“You killed him?”
Tanner had lowered the windows despite the dropping temperature. He did so to provoke a reaction from Amelie. It worked, and she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.
“Why are the windows down? It’s getting chilly outside.”
“Tell me about your father.”
“I had to kill him, okay? He was in the way. Now that he’s dead, I’ll inherit all of that land my aunt left him. There’s money too, Tanner. I could pay you to let me live.”
“Who are you working for?”
Amelie looked as if she were going to stall or make up a lie. After a small shrug, she answered. “The guy calls himself Logan Fortunato.”
“Have you ever met him?”
“No. He’s just a voice on the phone, or usually a text.”
“And do you work for Cipher too?”
“You know about Cipher?”
Tanner raised the baton an inch. Amelie got the message and answered the question.
“I don’t work for them, but my father did and so does Fortunato.”
The silver barrette was sitting in a cupholder. Tanner tapped it with the baton.
“How did you get this?”
“Gage Kline was stupid and went back to Chicago where people knew him. Someone ratted him out and I was sent there to deal with him. The chick that owned the barrette was there with him. I think her name was Sandra. Fortunato noticed that she and I look alike, so I pretended to be the woman who was seen in that video.”
“The video taken by the drone?”
“Yeah.”
Tanner filed that information away. It meant that Cipher was capable of getting copies of police evidence, likely through hacking into the department’s computer files.
“And you killed Kline and Sandra?” he asked Amelie.
She smiled. “I dressed like a maid but with a really short skirt and Kline let me into his hotel room while the woman was off somewhere. Dude swore he was going to get some from the slutty maid, but instead, I slid a knife between his legs and cut it off. When the woman returned, I did her too, after torturing her. That stuff I wrote down for you was all she and Kline knew, which was nothing.”
“It was enough to find the other members of the crew and get the rare bill back.”
“Shit. Really? Fortunato will be pissed about that. How the hell did you track them down? All I told you was that one of them had a dog and that the guy with the beard liked soup.”
“Like I said, it was enough. How involved was your father in all this?”
“My father had nothing to do with that robbery, but he knew that Cipher might blame him, and he panicked and went on the run.”
“Then you tracked your father down and pretended that you were involved and needed help?”
“Yeah.”
“If he didn’t tip off the second heist crew, then who did?”
“It was that slut, Sandra. She was sleeping with Marco Deering, but she’d also been screwing a guy from the other crew, David Gonzalez. She’d overheard him talking to one of his partners about the heist and told Marco about it. I guess she liked him better than Gonzalez. It was just bad luck that they both showed up at that festival at the same time.”
“What you said before, you were wrong.”
“About what?”
“About me not wanting to kill you.” Tanner pulled the trigger twice while shooting at an upward angle. Both rounds entered Amelie’s cold heart and it ceased beating. The slugs had passed through her small body, the blanket draped over her shoulders, and went out the window. Eight minutes later she was wrapped up inside the blanket and lying hidden beneath scraps of wood and pieces of discarded wallboard inside a construction dumpster. Her passing had left behind a few drops of blood that were easily wiped away.
Tanner kept her phone. Her other phone. It received a text that had to have been sent by Logan Fortunato.
Is Tanner dead yet?
Tanner debated sending a reply back and decided not to do so. He would be talking to Logan Fortunato when he returned to Illinois. In the meantime, let the man wonder what happened to his femme fatale. After dropping the car off where it could be retrieved, he took a cab to the airport and was back home on the ranch in time to have dinner with his family.
21
Let’s Make A Deal
At midnight, Logan Fortunato was in his private chambers brooding while sipping on Scotch. He had taken Amelie’s failure to reply as proof that she was dead. Fortunato wished that he could bring her back to life and kill her again for ruining his brilliant plan. The damn girl must have overplayed her hand or acted impulsively. Whatever her error had been, it had brought about disaster.
Tanner still lived and to make matters worse, the rare bill was in the hands of the police. The final members of the heist crew were also in police custody. Failure, there was failure everywhere and it simply could not be tolerated.
Maybe he couldn’t get the currency back or negate the fact that the police found Cory Sparks or Bohdan Kushnir before he could, but he could still find a way to kill Tanner.
He sat his drink down on the edge of the desk. He needed a clear head if he were to come up with another plan to kill the hit man. And he would take his time. Tanner presented no personal threat because there was no way that he could find him.
Fortunato closed his eyes and let the tension drain away. He would conceive of another plan and it would be one that didn’t rely on a woman to make it work.
Thinking of women brought to mind an image of his sex toy, Gianna. They would have their date in a few days, and he was looking forward to it more than usual. Sex always relieved his tension and stress and being with the whore soothed him in a way he didn’t quite understand.
Fortunato thought about Amelie again. Like Boss and his team, the little wench would be difficult to replace, and it was all because of Tanner.
Fortunato smiled. He’d incorporate torture into his next plan to deal with Tanner. The man deserved to suffer for causing him grief. Fortunato opened his laptop to play a game of chess online. There was an expatriate in Japan who was always up for an impromptu game.
Before long Fortunato was immersed in a challenging match and had pushed the issue of Tanner to the back of his mind.
Gianna turned out to be a dark-haired beauty. Tanner saw nothing to indicate that she would be worth more than any other good-looking whore. He’d been with hundred-dollar hookers and a couple of call girls who were in Gianna’s league. The Giannas of the world didn’t earn ten to fifty times more because they were that much better looking or responsive in bed. They earned their money for what they did outside the bedroom. They made the man they were with feel like the most important person in the world and used flattery and sympathy in equal measure.
Most people considered themselves to be a good person deep down. They also felt as if fate were picking on them at times. This was true of a saintly priest or of someone serving six consecutive life sentences for murdering children.
If Gianna was as good as Hutchison claimed, she would have picked up on the difference in his mood since the last time she’d seen him. She would sense that he was tense, worried, and she might even intuit that his life circumstances had changed. Knowing that would give her ample opportunity to show concern and lift his spirits with adulation. By the time they wound up in bed, Hutchinson would be much more positive about his future, and he would again think that Gianna was the greatest sex partner a man could ever have.
Tanner had been immune to the flattery of the call girls he’d been with. They had also found him impossible to read emotionally. He had never paid for the women, not at those prices. They had been a gift for fulfilling contracts.
He’d always been closed lipped about his feelings and
was never one to talk without reason. He wasn’t about to start unburdening himself to a woman who he’d met only minutes earlier and who he might never see again. But, for many men, that was the call girls very appeal. It was like they weren’t real people. You didn’t fear running into them at a restaurant or in the supermarket. Call girls were a fantasy come to life. They would not only allow you to do what you wanted to them in bed, but they made you feel like they just might give a damn about you. They didn’t, no more than the men they were with cared about them, but it was the game they played, the life they led, and it sure paid better than being a waitress.
It had taken Tanner three minutes of staring at Jerome until he recalled where he had seen him before. It had been 2008 and Jerome had been Jerry, a bone breaker for a loan shark in New York City. Hutchinson had stated that Jerome wasn’t a hoodlum. He’d been half-right. He wasn’t your average hoodlum.
Tanner eased up alongside the car and tapped on the side window. Jerome startled, then stared. When he realized who he was looking at, he lowered the window.
“I hope you’re not here to kill me, Tanner.”
“You’re in luck; it happens to be my night off.”
Jerome smiled. “What the hell are you doing in Aurora?”
“I’m here on business. How did you wind up here?”
“After that shit that went down in New York City I decided it would be a good time to make a change. I knew some people in Chicago and went there.”
“The last time I saw you the doctors said that you’d never walk again, Jerry.”
“The doctors say a lot of things, but they were damn near right. It took eight months before I was well enough to take a step and another year before I could run a little. And hey, Tanner, call me Jerome.”
“I have a favor to ask, Jerome.”
“Take a seat and we’ll talk.” Jerome clicked open the locks on the door. Hutchinson’s guess had been wrong. The car was a black Mercedes, not a Lexus.
Tanner got inside and told Jerome that he was looking for one of Gianna’s clients.
“You’re going to kill this guy?”
“That’s right. He’s tried to kill me at least twice. I figure I owe him no less in return.”
Jerome rubbed a hand over his chin. “I’ll bet you it’s the guy that Gianna calls the chess master.”
“Is he a professional chess player?”
“I don’t know, but she says that he talks about it all the time. She took up the game and read several books on the subject so she would be able to understand him better. You know, at this level, the girls are more like therapists than whores.”
“Yeah. But why is he the client that came to mind when I said that I’m looking for a man who hires killers?”
“About nine months ago Gianna came down with the flu and had to cancel about a week’s worth of dates. I went around visiting her list of regulars to explain why she would have to cancel. The chess master was one of them. I had only talked to him once before. That was the first time he and Gianna had a date. I always make sure that they know she has someone watching her back. The dude was smiling at me, Tanner, and I could tell that he wasn’t afraid. That’s unusual. Most of these guys look nervous or nod like they understand. Not that bastard, he practically shut the door in my face, and he’s a little dude. I was bigger than he is when I was twelve. Anyway, I tell him about Gianna being sick and he tells me that she should take better care of herself if she wanted to keep him as a client. I just nodded and turned to walk away but he calls me back. He had something he wanted to say.”
“Was it an apology for being rude?”
Jerome laughed. “Not exactly. The asshole told me that if he wanted to, he could have me killed, and that I was never to bother him again. I resisted the urge to beat the little fucker to death and left. Gianna doesn’t like him either. She charges him twice the going rate and he pays it every week.”
“Does she visit him on the same day?”
“She’ll be there tomorrow at eight.”
“No, she won’t. There won’t be any point in visiting a dead man.”
“What if he’s not the right guy?”
“I’ll figure that out before I kill him, but I think your instincts are right.”
“He tells Gianna to call him Lawrence, but he’s never given her a last name and always pays in cash.”
“Where can I find him?”
“I’ll give you directions. It’s about an hour from here, near Rockford.”
Tanner got the directions, asked a few more questions that concerned details he needed to know, then opened his door to leave the car.
“Take care of yourself, Jerome.”
“I’m living the easy life. Guarding Gianna is much better than dealing with deadbeats.”
“A woman in her line of work has a short career after she ages a little.”
“Yeah, but this business never lacks new recruits. When Gianna retires, I’m sure they’ll give me a new girl to look out for.”
“Job security is a good thing.”
“Hey, do you ever see Joe Pullo anymore?”
“We keep in touch.”
“Tell him I said hi.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And Tanner?”
“Yeah?”
“Make that little bastard hurt some before you kill him. It pissed me off when he threatened me.”
“I know how you feel.”
The following evening, a black Mercedes backed into the driveway of Larry Evers, the man who called himself Logan Fortunato.
Jerome told Tanner that he always backed down the two-hundred-foot driveway, and any other driveway so that if needed, he could pull out quickly. The Mercedes Tanner drove was the same model and year of Jerome’s vehicle. Tanner had also doctored a pair of stolen license plates so that they matched the alpha-numeric characters found on Jerome’s Mercedes.
A cardboard container holding four cups of hot coffee were perched on the dashboard. The steam from the coffee fogged up the windshield and side windows in case Fortunato had hidden cameras. After parking, Tanner waited.
If Gianna’s customer, Lawrence, was also Logan Fortunato, he would grow impatient and wonder why his rented date was keeping him waiting. The front door of the home opened at four minutes after eight and a short man with a small frame stood in the doorway looking out at the car. Tanner could see him in the rearview mirror but remained unseen because of the fogged glass and tinted rear windows.
When nothing else happened, the man stomped toward the vehicle. As soon as he reached it, he tapped on the side window with his knuckles. Tanner couldn’t see his face because of the steam but there was no mistaking the anger displayed by his body language.
He lowered the window. A flash of confusion showed on Fortunato’s face, but it was replaced by shocked recognition. He’d seen the old mugshot of Tanner and the sketch of him that had been passed around years earlier.
His mouth moved wordlessly for a moment before he mumbled out, “Tanner… I…”
“Hello, Fortunato,” Tanner said. As he spoke, he fired a Taser.
“We can come to an arrangement,” Fortunato said.
Tanner was screwing a silencer onto the end of his gun. “I like the arrangement we have now.”
Fortunato was lying on his back in the driveway. Tanner stood over him with a gun aimed at his head.
“I’m talking about money. Surely a million dollars is worth more to you than revenge.”
“I could have both if I tortured you to give me the million dollars.”
“Cipher!”
“What about them?”
“I could help you locate them. They’re the ones you want. I was simply hired by them to do a job. I personally have no animosity towards you.”
“You say you can help me locate them. How would you do that?”
Fortunato plucked a phone from his shirt pocket. “They communicate with me on this phone via text. The next time they make contact I�
��ll set up a trap.”
“What sort of trap?”
“I… I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
“Your last trap—trying to kill me—didn’t work out very well for you. Why should the next one do any better?”
Fortunato couldn’t think of a reply, but he was desperate to stay alive and determined to come up with something that would keep Tanner from killing him.
“I could work for you.”
“Doing what?”
“Anything. You name it. Anything.”
“Would you like to know how I found you?”
“Um, all right.”
“First, Guy Hutchison convinced me that he wasn’t you. After that, Jerome told me about you. He said that you threatened him.”
“Jerome?”
“Gianna’s bodyguard and driver.”
“The large black man. I didn’t like him. He tried to intimidate me.”
“He asked me to make sure you suffered before I killed you.”
The gun fired once, and Fortunato screamed as the slug buried itself in his left knee.
Minutes passed before Fortunato was able to speak. Tears of pain had wet his cheeks and his voice was hoarse from his screams and crying. He raised up a hand.
“Tanner… don’t hurt me again.”
“That shot to the knee wasn’t for Jerome. That was for me. Goodbye, Fortunato.”
Tanner’s next two bullets were fired at Fortunato’s head.
He spent hours inside the house. He had no problem getting past Fortunato’s security measures. In his haste to leave the house and confront Gianna for keeping him waiting, Fortunato had left the door to his office sitting wide open.
Tanner took Fortunato’s laptop. He would send it along with the cell phone Fortunato used to Tim Jackson. Maybe the hacker would find something on them that could help lead Tanner to Cipher’s doorstep, but he doubted it. Whoever was in charge of Cipher hadn’t stayed anonymous by being careless.
To Serve And Protect (A Tanner Novel Book 39) Page 17