Watch Your Back

by Rose, Karen

  Robinette would balk. He wouldn’t want to pay. And then what would I do? Kill her anyway? Auction her to the highest bidder? No. Because either way she’s dead and he gets what he wants. No, the threat would have to be big. Like telling Mazzetti all of Robinette’s secrets and setting the cop free. That would make me a fugitive, but I am now anyway.

  Henderson would rather be chased by the cops than by Robinette, because Robbie knew all of his employees’ secrets. He knew where they lived, where their families lived, and who they called friends. None of his employees – past or current – were truly safe if Robinette wanted them dead.

  Would I do that? Reveal all his secrets to Stevie Mazzetti?

  ‘Hell, yeah.’ Henderson laughed thinly. ‘I guess I am that petty after all.’

  It would mean kidnapping Mazzetti. Taking – and keeping – her alive. A dead Mazzetti held no barter value at all.

  If Westmoreland found Mazzetti first, there would be no way to escape a death sentence. Unless, of course, the executioner ceased to exist. The judge would have to go, too, before he assigned someone else. If Mazzetti was no longer a player, Westmoreland and Robinette would have to go.

  But could you? Really? Could you kill Robinette?

  Last night, the answer had been no. Now . . . Henderson wasn’t so sure. He’d kill you in a heartbeat. He’s already tried. So now the answer was yes. Probably.

  But not definitely. On every other job Henderson saw a target, not a face. Not a person. But with Robinette there was history. Until last night, all of it good. How could he do this?

  How could he do this to me?

  Maybe he’s sick. It was a hopeful thought. Or crazy. Maybe he has a brain tumor.

  Or maybe this was who Robinette had been all along. Maybe if I’d fucked up years ago, he would have tried to kill me then.

  Picture yourself pulling the trigger. Do it. But the only image that came to Henderson’s mind was a dark room, a dead body and a lot of blood. None of it mine. And looming over the scene was Robinette, calm and composed, saying it would be all right. That he’d take care of everything. That the body of the man that Henderson had murdered would not be found.

  That there would be no punishment. No prison. That my life would continue to be my own.

  If I have to kill him to survive, I will. But if I can avoid it . . . Mazzetti was the key to freedom. Barter the detective’s life for your own. And do it fast before the choice is taken from you. Get yourself patched up so you can get to work.

  Wight’s Landing, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 9.45 A.M.

  ‘I might have found Rossi,’ Clay said.

  The girlish chatter around Tanner’s kitchen table abruptly stilled. Stevie glanced up at Clay who stood with his back to the counter, frowning at his phone. He’d been largely silent through the meal, speaking when spoken to, but mostly he’d watched her.

  She’d avoided his gaze all the way through breakfast. Coward. I’m a coward.

  Tanner had disappeared after gulping down a waffle to lay a plywood path for her over the sand, yet still she heard the older man’s words circling around in her mind. Try not to hurt him.

  But Stevie knew this would end in one of them being hurt. Him or me. Probably both of us. I’ll try not to let it be him. I’ll try really hard.

  She kissed Cordelia’s forehead. ‘Why don’t you and Aunt Emma check on the puppies.’

  Cordelia looked from her to Clay. ‘I want to know what’s happening. Who is Rossi?’

  Stevie glanced at Clay. ‘The truth?’ she murmured and he nodded, saying nothing. ‘Rossi is a cop,’ she told her daughter. ‘A dirty cop who wanted to see me hurt. But JD caught him. He’s in jail now.’

  Cordelia looked down, then up again resolutely. ‘You mean he wanted to kill you, Mama.’

  A cold chill raced down Stevie’s spine. ‘He did. But he can’t now. He was shot.’

  ‘By who? By Uncle JD?’

  ‘That you don’t need to know,’ Stevie said.

  ‘But—’

  Clay cleared his throat and Cordelia’s gaze swung to his face. He gave her a stern look accompanied by a small shake of his head.

  Cordelia looked down again. ‘I’m not sorry I asked,’ she said stubbornly.

  Stevie’s lips curved. ‘I’d be disappointed if you were.’

  Cordelia’s chin came up, her eyes wide. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re your father’s daughter, but you’re also mine.’ She cupped Cordelia’s cheek, her touch gentle, but her tone fierce. ‘Always ask questions and keep asking until you’re satisfied that you have all the information you need. Unless I tell you otherwise. Sometimes you’re going to have to trust me.’

  Cordelia’s lips firmed. ‘Okay. Then I want to ask a different question.’

  Stevie smiled. ‘Okay.’

  ‘If Rossi is in jail, why did Mr Maynard just say he found him?’

  ‘That’s a darn good question, kid,’ Emma said, sounding impressed. ‘I had the same one.’

  Clay sat in the chair across from them. ‘We don’t think he was working alone, Cordelia. Your mom doesn’t know him, so we looked through her files last night to find something that would explain why he was so anxious to keep her quiet. And who has his back.’

  Cordelia’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘You want his accomplice.’

  Clay tried to hide his smile and failed. ‘That’s a big word for an almost-eight-year-old.’

  Her chin came up defiantly. ‘I’m not some dumb little girl, Mr Maynard.’

  ‘Did I ever say you were? Did I ever give you a reason to believe I even thought it? Ever?’

  Cordelia seemed to consider his question. ‘No. Never. All right, Mom. I’ll go play with the puppies, but that won’t take very long.’ Her expression went sly. ‘If you want me out of your hair even longer, there’s a computer in the room where I was sleeping. It’s hooked up to the Internet. I know other words, too. Like “retail therapy”.’

  Emma snorted back a laugh. ‘God, I love you, Cordelia Mazzetti.’

  Stevie chuckled. ‘So do I. You can pick out one outfit.’ She held up an index finger. ‘One.’

  ‘With shoes?’ Cordelia challenged.

  ‘You have to stop spending so much time watching Project Runway with your Aunt Izzy. Fine. Shoes, too, but that’s all. I mean it. Aunt Emma knows where I put my credit card.’

  Emma put her arm around Cordelia’s shoulders. ‘Count me in for a purse. It can be an early birthday present.’

  The two left, leaving Stevie and Clay alone in the kitchen. It quickly grew very quiet.

  ‘That was exactly the right thing to say,’ Clay murmured. ‘That she was your daughter. That made her very proud.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Cheeks warm from his praise, Stevie stared down at her plate. ‘So. You found Rossi in my files?’

  ‘Indirectly. JD finally sent Rossi’s personnel file a few minutes ago. Said there was some issue getting his hands on it. Rossi’s PBA rep lodged an official objection.’

  ‘I used to hate the idea of the union reps, but mine was useful.’ She looked around the kitchen, anywhere but at him. But he was watching her. She could feel his gaze, heat shimmering across her skin. ‘IA investigated me after we found out about Silas and all his crimes. My rep made sure they respected my rights. A lot of people couldn’t believe I was so clueless as to not know what my own partner was up to all those years. A lot of people still don’t believe me.’

  ‘You trusted him,’ Clay said evenly. ‘And he was smart.’

  ‘Yeah. My parents said that anyone who really knew me would know that I wasn’t involved. That I couldn’t have been. But we all thought we knew Silas and we were very wrong.’

  ‘Which is why you’ve pushed so hard on these investigations. To prove yourself.�
��

  ‘One of the reasons.’ She absently scraped at a chip in the table’s veneer. ‘But mostly because they haunt me. All those innocent people victimized because Silas was a damn coward who allowed Lippman to bully him into sacrificing his integrity for the safety of his family.’

  ‘But in trying to set things right, you’ve put your own family in the line of fire and you’re wondering if it’s worth it.’

  She looked up then, met his eyes. Dark, intense, and focused on her face. And so full of understanding that her own eyes stung. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Hell of an irony, ain’t it?’

  ‘Yes. But you couldn’t live with yourself if you looked the other way. You’re not wired that way.’ He leaned forward, his hand covering hers. ‘It’s what makes you “you”. And we will find out who’s targeting you, no matter how many there are or how long it takes.’

  ‘You make me believe it’ll happen,’ she said quietly. ‘I’d started to doubt myself.’

  ‘I know. Everybody’s allowed to wallow a little in the pity-pool.’ He squeezed her hand hard before releasing it to retreat back in his chair. ‘Time to get out of the pool.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Squaring her shoulders, she cleared her throat. ‘Rossi’s personnel file?’

  ‘From 2007 to 2009 Rossi was partnered with a detective named Danny Kersey in the robbery division. Kersey was senior, Rossi was newly promoted out of a squad car.’

  ‘I don’t know Kersey either.’

  ‘Silas did. Kersey appears in one of the reports.’

  She frowned. ‘Which one?’

  ‘One of the reports in the green folder.’

  She felt her cheeks heat, this time in shame. ‘I should’ve looked at them first.’ But she hadn’t because the dates in the folder made her uncomfortable.

  ‘We always wish we’d checked the last place first,’ he said kindly and she knew he knew why she hadn’t looked at them. ‘Kersey and Rossi were investigating what appeared to be an ordinary home invasion and robbery. Then the daughter of the homeowner was found raped and murdered the following day. They handed the case over to Silas who was working solo.’

  ‘Because I was out on bereavement leave. What else?’

  ‘Silas arrested a homeless man for the burglary, rape, and murder. That’s all Silas had in his file. There was a short reference to Kersey’s burglary investigation. A sentence or two, if that. Rossi was never mentioned, even though he was Kersey’s partner.’

  She gave him a sharp look. ‘You remember Kersey’s name out of all those reports?’

  ‘No. I wish my memory was that good. I took notes on the reports in that green folder while you were asleep. Alec wrote a database to compare all the names from the notes you’ve been taking all along, mine from last night, and what he calls “extraneous” documentation. Things like Rossi’s personnel file, class lists from the Academy, stuff like that.’

  ‘Wow. What a useful assistant.’

  ‘Sometimes.’ Clay smiled. ‘Sometimes he’s just a pain in the ass.’

  She found herself smiling back, comfortable with him now that they were talking shop and not . . . feelings. ‘So where is the report with Kersey’s name in it?’

  ‘Locked in the closet under the stairs. I didn’t want to risk having your daughter see them.’

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate that. Is there a place we can sort through the box of files? Where she won’t overhear? She agreed to go upstairs far too easily and I know from experience that she has ears like a bat. The boathouse is small, but she won’t hear us there.’

  ‘The boathouse doesn’t have a table where we can spread the files out, but the boat does.’

  ‘The boat? Wait. Clay, wait.’ But he was out of his chair and out of the room before she could blink. Stevie had no choice but to grab her cane and follow him.

  Baltimore, Maryland, Sunday, March 16, 9.45 A.M.

  ‘And on Tuesday you cut the ribbon at the groundbreaking for a youth rehab center in Reston. Wear your black Armani, with a blue tie. You wore the gray Huntsman with a red tie to the ribbon cutting last week and we want each event to appear different. For the Facebook posts, dontchaknow. Here’s your speech. I’ve marked all the places you need to get choked up.’

  Robinette saw Brenda Lee slide the typed page across his desk, but his main focus was on his laptop which displayed the feed from the camera aimed at the door to Fletcher’s office. Fletch had arrived forty-five minutes ago and still hadn’t reported in, as ordered.

  That his summons had been delivered was not in doubt. The guard shack had reported in, seconds after Fletcher’s car passed through the gates.

  He now regretted not putting a camera in Fletcher’s office itself. He hadn’t done so because Fletcher’s office was one of the places they met for sex and Robinette sure as hell didn’t intend to give his security guards a show. But that was then.

  Now was a totally different story. He’d have a camera installed by the end of the day.

  ‘Then on Wednesday,’ Brenda Lee continued, ‘you have a ten A.M. coffee at the Capitol in DC with the junior congressman from Louisiana to discuss your donation to the public school system in your old parish. I suggest you go nude, with your ass painted red like a baboon’s.’

  Robinette’s eyes shot to Brenda Lee whose strawberry blonde brows were lifted in annoyance. ‘I was listening,’ he grunted, returning his attention to the screen. ‘Monday, city planner for a dinner meeting at six. Tuesday, ribbon cutting, black Armani, be sure to cry. Have the guy with the red ass-paint in my dressing area by six A.M. on Wednesday.’

  Brenda Lee laughed. ‘You make me crazy, you know that?’

  ‘I get the job done, don’t I?’ Come on, Fletch. Open the damn door. I don’t have all day.

  ‘I have to say you do. Last night you were at the top of your game. Nice speech. Excellent delivery. Even I believed you were humble.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I know you far too well.’ She hesitated. ‘Robbie, are you okay? You’ve seemed a little . . . off for the last few days.’

  ‘Yeah, just fine.’ Except for the fact that Henderson’s running amok, Fletcher stabbed me in the back, and Stevie Mazzetti is still alive. He flicked a glance at Brenda Lee. ‘Really.’

  ‘Okay, whatever you say. I have the rest of your schedule here. You can review it at your leisure.’ She placed a folder on the edge of the desk. ‘Call me with questions. Or about anything else. I know this isn’t an easy week for you, no matter how you choose to play it in front of the team. Losing a child is never easy. And your circumstances were harder than most. You lost your wife, too – and at the hand of your son.’

  Well, no, actually he hadn’t lost Julie at Levi’s hand. I lost my wife at my very own hand. Because she was too damn smart for her own good. And mine, too. She’d put two and two together and realized she’d lost her first husband – also at Robinette’s hand. Her mistake had been in confronting him about Rene’s murder.

  Lesson number one: Never confront a killer. He’d been so startled at her accusation that he’d killed her before he’d given it any thought. Lesson number two: Lock your office door when killing your wife. Because her lead chemist had popped his head in just then.

  So of course Robinette had had to kill him, too. And that was when his nightmare with Mazzetti had begun. The bitch had known. Somehow she’d known from the first moment.

  Lesson number three: Don’t put off ’til tomorrow what you should do today. I should have killed Mazzetti eight years ago. Should have found a way to make it look like an accident. Or even a suicide. She’d been so depressed after her husband and son were killed, no one would have doubted it.

  But he’d been waiting for the ‘right time’. There never was a right time. He should have been smart and made the right time. But Mazz
etti had rattled him. She’d known he’d killed Julie and she would not give up trying to prove it. He’d panicked. The bitch had made him panic. He thought he hated Mazzetti for that most of all.

  Because in his panic, he’d sacrificed his son. Pointing the cops in Levi’s direction hadn’t been hard. The kid had been a junkie and when Julie had died, the boy had lost it, staying high all the time. He’d figured Levi might do a little time. Maybe get sentenced to rehab.

  He hadn’t meant for Levi to die. Hadn’t anticipated the bitch cop would murder his son. But she had. And when he was done with her, she’d be damn sorry she had.

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Brenda Lee,’ Robinette muttered, conscious of her worried stare. ‘I’ve moved on. I don’t think about Julie anymore. I have Lisa now.’

  ‘I wish I believed that,’ she said sadly. ‘But I don’t.’

  Ah. Finally. The lab door opened and Fletcher appeared, turning toward the elevator to Robinette’s office. Took you long enough, Fletch. His chemist would be here in minutes.

  Robinette gave his full attention to Brenda Lee, who looked alarmingly tired. ‘What about you, BL? Are you all right?’

  Her smile was tight. ‘No complaints, boss.’

  ‘You never do complain.’ He knew she was in constant pain and had been since the day he’d pulled her out of a wrecked Humvee on the side of an Iraqi road, seconds before it went up in flames, having been targeted by an insurgent’s rocket launcher.

  She shrugged. ‘Doesn’t help. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a kite to fly with my son.’ Her motorized wheelchair whirred as she put it into reverse and did quick K-turn.

  ‘Excuse me? Did you say a kite?’

  ‘I did indeed. Dax and I joined a kite club. Gives us mother/son bonding time. Why don’t you come with us, Robbie? It’s fun, and that’s something you haven’t gotten a lot of lately.’

  He smiled. Brenda Lee was one of the few people he could just be with. ‘Would you believe me if I said I was tempted?’