Dance of Deception

by Trish Reeb

  Staggering, she swung the whip back and forth, the razor sharp tips slicing his shirt and bare chest. Grimacing, he swung around and body slammed into her side.

  Mary Winter dropped to the floor.

  Ready for her, he plopped the chair down, trapping her beneath it, a rung straddling her chest, pinning her arms.

  "Let me up, you mutherfucker," she screamed.

  "You're right where you belong—behind bars." Cole checked out the room trying to figure out how he could keep her imprisoned and didn't see much in the way of help.

  A barrage of shots came from outside the office.

  Seconds later, someone kicked open the door. Martindale peered around the door frame, hands wrapped around his weapon. Rounding the corner, he dropped his arms and holstered his gun.

  He laughed. "Wish I could’ve seen the finale."

  "Get me the out of this. I have to go after Alex."

  Martindale seized the knife from his boot, slashed the bindings.

  "How's Jordan?" Cole asked, ripping the tape off of his arms and legs.

  "EMT and the rescue squad are with him now."

  Cole grabbed his jacket and dashed out, buttoning his shirt on the run.

  *

  The man stood a few feet away, his face in the shadows from the lantern on the ground behind him.

  "I’ll take the taser," he said, hand outstretched.

  "The hell you will." Feeling like Lara Croft, she stuffed the taser in one pocket and pulled Raphael’s gun from the other.

  "I’m a cop. A friend of Cole Grant’s."

  "Let's see your badge."

  He reached for his pocket.

  "Slowly," Alex said, waving the firearm.

  The man pulled out his shield and held it for her to examine.

  Raphael stirred, his body beginning to function under his control again. He glared at the man. "Burk, she’s mine. Now get the hell over here and help me up."

  Alex aimed the gun at him.

  A shot rang out.

  Raphael’s brow disappeared in a mass of skin, bone, and blood now coating the snow in bright red.

  Omigod. Alex stared at the body two feet away. Her eyes shifted from Raphael to the man holstering his gun.

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  "You’re Alex, aren’t you?" he asked.

  She nodded, and stepped several feet away from the body. Her legs giving out, she went for the ground.

  The man reached for her.

  "Don’t touch me," she said, getting back up on her feet.

  He dropped his hand.

  "Y-you killed him," Alex said through chattering teeth. She didn’t want to look at Raphael again. But she couldn't help it.

  He lay unmoving. With all his advantages—money, education, superior intelligence—his life had ended with the crack of a gun. He was a kid. She'd only wanted to incapacitate him, not kill him.

  "He was evil to the core," the man said, as if reading her mind.

  Alex backed away. If Raphael knew him, he had to be one of the bad guys.

  "I’m Sergeant Nicholas Burkhart," he said. "How 'bout we locate Grant?"

  She pointed the gun at him. "I don’t think so."

  He glared at her. "This the thanks I get for rescuing you?"

  "I had the situation under control. I didn’t ask for your help."

  Burkhart raised his hands. "You can find your own fucking way back." He stomped off into the darkness, taking the lantern with him.

  Great, just great, Alex. Now look what you've done. Alone, with no idea how to work her way back to the warehouse in the dark, she folded her arms over her frozen solid jacket. Her jeans were cold, stiff, and crusty with ice. She could no longer feel her toes.

  She glanced over at Raphael. At his coat, thick, warm. What would it make her if she borrowed his fleece-lined jacket even though he no longer needed it? At this point, she didn’t care. She inched her way over to the body. Trying to avoid looking at Raphael's face, she maneuvered him around to remove his coat. Using handfuls of snow, Alex washed off the blood from the waterproof fabric. She peeled off her ruined leather jacket and slid her arms into the cavities of RD's. The inside as dry as the blankets on her bed, she snuggled into the warmth. She averted any thought of Raphael that tried to squirm into her head.

  CHAPTER 80

  Cole dashed into the woods. With Raphael still on the loose, he hoped Alex had found a place to hide. If anything happened to her, he'd have no one to blame but himself. Knowing her propensity for following clues without thinking twice, he had made an egregious error in judgment asking for her help. He prayed he would find her in one piece. A gutsy gal, but enough of one to go against the likes of Raphael La Fontaine?

  The sound of a shot reverberated through the woods.

  He drew his weapon and stole from one tree to another, making his way toward where he thought he’d heard the gunshot. Keeping his eye out for tracks in the snow, he hoped he headed in the right direction. No way to know for sure. A minute, and dozens of trees later, he came to a clearing. In the distance, a dark motionless shape lay in the white snow. His heart sank. Drawing closer, he realized the large bulky body couldn't belong to Alex. Relief washing over him, he rushed over to it.

  He stared down at Raphael La Fontaine, the top of his face blown off. His coat gone. Marks in the snow indicated the body had been tampered with.

  The branches of a pine tree a few feet away stirred.

  Cole pointed the Glock in its direction.

  Alex crawled out.

  Holstering his weapon, he said, "Thank God, you’re safe. When I heard the gun shot . . . ." He swallowed.

  She got to her feet, her eyes wide, her body shaking.

  Cole drew her close. After awhile, when the trembling ceased, he gently pushed her away. He ran his eyes up and down her body. "You’re not hurt?"

  She shook her head. "I was so cold, I borrowed his . . . ." Tears welled in her eyes.

  "It’s okay. It’s okay."

  "I messed up your crime scene," she said. "Are you going to arrest me?"

  "Not for that." He peered at her closely. "Did you kill him?"

  Alex shook her head. "Burkhart."

  Cole inspected the surrounding area. "Where’d he go?"

  "He got mad and left."

  "What’d you do, trample on his heroism?"

  "How’d you know?"

  "Wild guess. Let’s get you someplace warm."

  CHAPTER 81

  By the time Alex made her statement to the police, it was past noon. Cole volunteered to take her home even though he had interviews, paperwork, and whatever else cops do to wrap up a homicide. On the way to her condo, he filled in the missing pieces of the case which provided a comprehensive view of the full picture.

  "You know what I’m going to say," he said, when they stood on her front porch.

  When can I see you again? She gazed into eyes the color of almonds. "Stay away from crime scenes?"

  "Go inside and cry."

  Alex stuck out her hand. "Thanks. For everything."

  Instead of taking it, Cole grabbed and hugged her. "You’re kinda cute. For a white girl." When he released her, he winked. "It’s been one hell of a ride."

  Alex stood on the porch, waving until she could no longer see his car. Sid greeted her at the front door, winding around her feet, causing her to stumble. "Hey, Siddy. How are you, guy?" She slipped out of Cole’s windbreaker. Oops, she'd forgotten to give it to him. She shrugged. It gave her an excuse to call him in a couple days. She hung his jacket in the closet.

  Alex checked out the house. In the past ten days, she’d let the place go.

  Five hours later, she’d been to the grocery store, cleaned the kitchen, washed the floors, changed the bed, cleaned all three bathrooms, the litter box, run the vacuum, and done two loads of laundry.

  Now what? She roamed from room to room, straightened this and that. Go inside and cry. She picked up a picture from the table in the li
brary and hugged it to her chest. Sitting on the sofa, she crossed her legs, placing the framed photo in her lap, and stared at herself and Taryn, their heads together smiling widely. This time, she allowed the tears to flow feeling the painful sadness of her loss.

  Later, Alex prepared for bed, reflecting on all that had happened since Taryn died. She learned a lot about herself this past week: her shortcomings, her vulnerability, and her spirituality. The journey of self-discovery had been long overdue. Postponed after her parents’ death while she raised Gino, she had ignored her needs, her desires, and her goals in life. Alex had no regrets but had to admit the time had come to reclaim her life and figure out what she wanted and where she wanted to go. Wherever it might be, she couldn't get there without friends and family. Picking up the phone, she punched in a long distance number. Time to set aside her fear of rejection, lay her feelings on the line. When her brother Matt answered, she swallowed her anxiety and told him how much she missed him. They talked long into the night.

  CHAPTER 82

  Tuesday, February 20

  Burkhart had gone missing. He didn't answer his phone. He didn't answer his door. He didn't report to work Monday or call in sick. Tuesday afternoon, Cole went to Burk's place for the third time. He spent twenty minutes locating and convincing the maintenance guy to let him into the apartment.

  The man shadowed Cole through the living room, kitchen, bath, and bedroom. Nothing out of order until they stepped into the spare room used as an office. His ass in the chair, Burkhart slumped across the top of his desk. A fatal gunshot wound to the head. The Glock in his hand attached to a silencer explained why the death had gone undetected. An audio tape sat next to a battered recorder.

  The apartment now a crime scene and off limits, Cole sent the freaked-out maintenance guy away. Using his handkerchief, he picked up the tape, placed it in the recorder, and pushed play. The voice from the machine belonged to Burk.

  Hi, kid. If you’re listening to this, it means I’ve left this planet for another dimension. Before I start, I want to say I have the utmost respect for you as a person and, especially, a cop. You have excellent instincts, grit, and, most of all, heart. His German accent was thicker than usual.

  When did everything start going into the crapper? Probably a long time before we met, but I don’t want to get off track. What you want to know is how I got involved in the underage prostitution ring. It’s complicated, but I’ll try to keep it simple. What happened? I got sucked into it like a goddamn rookie on a beat. Cole nodded his understanding of the simile.

  Got a call one night about a drunk and disorderly homeless guy. It happened down the street from Foxworth. After the man sobered, I hooked him up at the shelter and drove by the apartments. A lot of unexplained activity got me curious. I planted a surveillance camera in an abandoned building behind them. Didn’t take much to put it all together.

  I insisted on speaking to the head honcho. Imagine my surprise to find a seventeen year old kid. Yep, RD, Redd Dog, Raphael Douglas La Fontaine, take your pick. Another rule forgotten, Cole thought. What you see isn't always what you get. After admitting what I'd learned and disclosing what I could do to help, they paid me to look the other way, keep the other cops at bay. At first, I thought I’d get the goods on them and collar these guys. I kept detailed accounts of the transactions I knew about, starting with a list of dates and names of everyone I met. Even snapped pictures occasionally. Then the money rolled in. Close to retirement, I calculated my pension against my take. Guess you can figure what happened. Cole shook his head, his lips tight together.

  Morgan screwed up when she targeted Jada Davison. If she'd done her homework, she would've known Jada didn't fit the profile. When they learned the girl had gone to Richards and told her what she knew, which wasn’t much but enough to get people nosing around, they had to do something. RD wanted them to die. Think the idea excited him. I vetoed the plan, but my vote didn't amount to a hill of shit.

  It was only a matter of time before you'd see my connection. That's when I made this tape, gathered the evidence, and placed it in a safe deposit box. I wasn't going to get out of this with my self-respect intact. If I'd had to relinquish my badge and go to prison, it woulda killed me. So, I decided to go out on my own terms. Before I left, I had one job to do. Rid the world of RD. If I hadn’t, he'd be back. Evil as they come, he'd been blessed with a genius IQ that scored off the charts. A dangerous combination.

  The key to the safe deposit box is in my locker at the station. I hope you can nail these sons of bitches. One last thing, I want the money distributed to the families of the victims. Maybe this last ditch effort of good-will is my ticket to the lighter rather than darker side. Give Haygood my best.

  Later.

  Cole turned off the recorder. The evidence Nicholas Burkhart provided would send Mary Winter and the wealthy johns away for a long time. But it would never bring back Taryn Richards, Jada Davison, Burk, or heal the damaged souls of all the abused teens.

  He called 911 to report Burkhart’s suicide and waited for the cops to arrive. Cole wouldn't be able to protect the man in death any more than if he had lived. Ballistics would prove his gun had been used to kill RD. Once the tape got out, everyone would know the extent of Burk’s involvement. Cole felt bad for his friend Sterling Haygood. He'd have plenty of company when it came to Burkhart's betrayal. The victims and their families would suffer the effects for years to come.

  Determined not to sit by and watch DeAngelo ruin his life by possibly falling victim to someone like RD, Cole picked up the phone, the heart to heart talk with his sister long overdue.

  EPILOGUE

  Wednesday, June 14

  The door of the plane slid open. A rush of wind blasted Alex, taking her breath away. Less than an hour ago, she had signed her life away, releasing Titan Skydiving & Company of responsibility if the parachute failed to open and she plunged to her death. Did she want to do this? Yes, this had been Taryn’s last wish.

  Jordan stood next to Alex in an identical blue jumpsuit, his goggles in place, ready to take the plunge. Impossible to talk over the noise, they settled for a thumb's up and encouraging smiles. She stared at him, wondering if his therapy cured his phobia. He seemed okay, standing next to the opening, gazing down at the patchwork of land 13,000 feet below. Alex's stomach pitched. Her heart hammered, the adrenaline pounded through her system. She could do this. If Jordan could, she could.

  Many times growing up—diving into a swimming pool beside a friend, racing to a goal, playing the card games War or Spit—she'd innocently said, "Ready, set, go," the signal to jump just seconds away. Strapped by a red harness to the tandem master behind her, Alex's shoulders tensed. This time it might not be just harmless fun.

  He shouted, "Ready, set—" The wind absorbed the last word as they jumped off the plane into the wide open space.

  Surprised to feel no sensation of falling, even though they traveled at 120 miles per hour, Alex floated on the wind. Relaxing, her heart slowed. A cameraman flew up to her, snatching a shot of the funny face Alex made. He soared away to repeat the process with Jordan. The freefall seemed to last a long time, but the crash course informed them that no more than ninety seconds passed before the tandem master signaled her to pull the cord. When the chute opened, the lines jerked and the tandem skydivers' descent immediately slowed.

  Fascinated, she watched the land gradually approach. Little by little, dots and lines materialized into roads, fences, houses, and barns. Before landing in the grassy field, Alex bent her knees. She and the tandem master slid along the ground, dragging the deflating chute behind them. When they came to a stop, Alex sought Jordan. He landed about fifty feet away and threw his arms into the air. She followed suit. A loud cheer erupted from the small entourage.

  Out of their jumping gear, Alex and Jordan held hands and gazed at the blue sky above. Alex smiled. The plane long gone, it almost seemed as if she had only dreamed it. They hugged for a long time before climbing into the t
ruck that would take them back to the airport.

  "Did you feel Taryn with us?"

  Jordan nodded.

  Alex laid her head on the back of the seat, good memories of Taryn playing in her mind.