Twisted Shadows

by Patricia Potter

  Nate felt a hell of a lot better. He was beginning to think their small shadow army was a match for the person authorizing contracts, or even his fellow cops. They didn’t have to play by the rules.

  “We think there’s someone else involved, too,” Nate told them.

  “Jack explained,” Simon said. His glance rested a little longer than necessary on Sam’s mother.

  “There’s Victor, George, Anna, Rosa, and a few other assorted characters. My money’s on George,” said Nate. “He’s ambitious and vicious.”

  “Nicholas Merritt can help us with that. If he will.” Patsy bit her lip. “I don’t know why he would. I don’t mean anything to him.”

  “I think Sam does,” Nathan said.

  Simon poured another cup of coffee. “If Nicholas confirms all this, then we have to set a neat little trap.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Nathan said.

  “McGuire—if it is McGuire—probably doesn’t know exactly what Patsy has. A little blackmail threat might do wonders in bringing him out of his hole.”

  Simon was right. There was no other way. From what Patsy said, the evidence was slim. It might have been more powerful thirty-four years ago. A fresh patrolman wouldn’t have the clout of a federal judge.

  But he didn’t like making Sam—or her mother—a bull’s-eye. He didn’t want to think that he had planned exactly that a week or ten days ago. Now he would do almost anything to keep it from happening.

  It was the only way to keep them safe, to give them back a life.

  They left it that way when they left the table, which turned out to be a little awkward. There were three bedrooms. Patsy had one, Simon another.

  “Nathan and I will share a bedroom,” Sam offered. Her mother raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Sam turned to Nathan. “I want to talk to my mother for a while.”

  “We’ll check outside,” Simon said. Nate went with him out the front door. Nothing unusual, though Nate didn’t like the woods around them. Too many hiding places.

  “The house has a state-of-the-art security system,” Simon said.

  They walked around to the back and sat down in lawn chairs. Simon looked relaxed, but Nate knew he was listening, that every instinct was alert.

  “Will McGuire bite?” Simon asked.

  “He has to. He has too many loose ends now. Now that we know where to start, we can eventually find out he was the one issuing a contract. There has to be a money trail.”

  “I found out a lot about you,” Simon said.

  Nate raised an eyebrow.

  “Good cop, bad team player. You hate the Merrittas. How did you get hooked up with the daughter?”

  “Lucky, I guess,” he said wryly.

  “You’re willing to lose your job for her?”

  “I probably already have.”

  “No doubt you will if you go along with this.”

  “I’ve made my decision,” Nate said softly. “She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

  “Neither did her mother.”

  Nate didn’t say anything.

  “I saw you look at her when you first came in. How could she abandon a child? David told me it haunted her every day of her life. He said she woke up two or three nights a week with nightmares.”

  “I’m not judging anyone.”

  “I just wanted you to know.”

  “Thanks.”

  They sat out there a few more moments. Nate wanted to give Sam time with her mother. They needed it. The silence between him and Simon was companionable. They instinctively trusted each other.

  “Your name isn’t Simon.”

  “No,” Simon said. “But Jack’s using his own name. We thought one of us should retain some mystery.” He hesitated. “My buddies stuck it on me. Simple Simon, they used to call me, cause I had a real talent for making things simple. I don’t believe in bullshit.”

  Nate smiled. “You and Jack and David Carroll must have been hell on wheels.”

  “David was the best one of us,” Simon said.

  “Are either of you married?”

  “Both divorced. It’s not easy to settle down after the kind of life we had. We’re both wanderers.” He hesitated then said, “My name is Michael Malone.”

  They heard a car coming down the street and without a word they both rose and went around the house, keeping to the shadows. A car disappeared down the street.

  “People who own this with the government?” Nate asked.

  “Yep. I asked around for a safe house.”

  “Do the other residents know what their neighbor does for a living?”

  “Probably don’t have a clue. And by the way, it’s a she.”

  They went inside.

  Sam wanted to go to the planetarium.

  Nathan hesitated. All his protective instincts said no.

  “He might not show if he sees only you,” Sam said. “Terri said he wanted to see me.”

  “I want to go, too,” Patsy said.

  “Hell, no,” both men said in unison.

  “He’s my son. I’ve waited more than thirty-four years to see him.” Tears hovered in the corners of her eyes and she played with the bracelet she always wore.

  “It will happen,” Simon said. “But not now.”

  “She shouldn’t be left alone. Neither should Sam,” Nate said.

  “She won’t be,” Simon said. “I’ll stay. You and Jack and Samantha meet him. Jack was there earlier. He studied every inch of the place. Every exit. Every fire alarm if it comes to that.”

  So that became the plan. Nathan didn’t like it but he knew he was outvoted.

  They had cereal, orange juice and toast for breakfast, though Patsy offered to fix a big breakfast. Nathan borrowed a lightweight sports jacket from one of the closets to cover his holstered pistol.

  At ten, Nathan and Sam left the house in Simon’s rented sedan. They would meet Jack at the door of the planetarium.

  When they arrived, children were streaming off school buses. For a moment, Nathan regretted his choice. If there was any shooting, he’d never forgive himself.

  They saw Maddox sitting at the top of the steps, wearing dark glasses. Jock was wearing a seeing eye dog harness.

  Sam chuckled but passed without a word. Nathan grinned to himself and continued inside, knowing Maddox and Jock would follow.

  There was a metal detector that hadn’t been there last time he had entered. Sam went through first. He followed, pulling out his credentials and badge, saying there was a confidential investigation and the officer was not to say anything. An awed security guard allowed him in.

  Maddox made it through the checkpoint with even more ease after the dog refused to go through the metal detector. “Just go around, sir,” the guard said.

  Nate watched with amusement as he stopped to replace his credentials. Jock was the model of seeing eye dog behavior. Nate wondered how many times they’d pulled that act before, and why. He checked his watch. A few moments before the appointed time. They reached the designated place. No Merritt.

  Kids were lining up at the doors. Sam looked around anxiously. Maddox sat on a bench nearby.

  Eleven came and went. The kids disappeared inside, then Nate saw Merritt striding across the hall. His arm was no longer in a sling but he held it stiffly.

  “You’re late,” Nate said dourly.

  “I wanted to make sure you weren’t followed.”

  “I took precautions.”

  “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”

  “There’s some classrooms upstairs. We can go up there.”

  “You still don’t trust me.”

  “I wouldn’t trust my own brother right now,” Nate replied.

  “Nice,” Merritt said, and turned to Sam. His expression softened. “I heard about what happened in Steamboat Springs. I’m sorry.”

  Nate shook his head, then led the way to an escalator. Maddox and the dog followed.

  Merritt did a double take, then stared at Maddox’s face
and glasses. He turned to Nate and gave him a puzzled look. “He’s with us,” Nate said.

  For the first time in their long-standing adversarial relationship, Merritt smiled.

  They found an empty room and went inside. Maddox followed, shutting the door behind them. He took off his dark glasses and leaned against it.

  “Okay,” Nate said. “What do you know?”

  “The man behind one of the contracts is Judge McGuire.” Nick raised an eyebrow. “You’re not surprised.”

  “Not much. Who else?”

  Nick looked stunned that they knew McGuire’s name.

  “Georgie? Victor?” Nate persisted.

  “Not Victor. He doesn’t have the guts. George is too cautious.”

  “Then…?”

  Nick shrugged.

  “Damn you,” Nate said.

  “I really don’t know. I can help you find out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s time for the family to stop. Pop—” He stopped suddenly.

  “How can you help?”

  “You have to draw out McGuire first, then whoever in the family wants Samantha dead.”

  Nate didn’t want to trust him. He’d spent too many years trying to put him in jail. But now, reluctantly, he did. He looked at Maddox. He nodded.

  “Okay. What do you propose?”

  “That I pretend to find what my mother has been hiding. I’ll sell it—and silence—for a hundred thousand dollars.” He paused. “I’m a Merritta. He’ll believe me. He won’t believe you.” Bitterness tinged his words.

  Sam shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll be making yourself a target.”

  “A target like you?” Nick asked. “You didn’t do anything.”

  “Neither did you.”

  “I tolerated,” he said. “I closed my eyes. I never really left.”

  They decided to stay in Chicago. McGuire had too many contacts in Boston, including, quite possibly, some agents in the Bureau. They would make him come to them. He would have no choice now.

  Sam knew Nathan still hesitated to take Nick Merritt to the safe house. But it would be too dangerous for him to stay alone. And she knew Nathan wanted to keep an eye on him. She suspected the next few days wouldn’t be easy. “Mother’s there,” Sam told Nick.

  A muscle moved in his throat. “I suppose it’s time.” The three of them left together. Maddox and his ever-present companion went somewhere else. The drive was long and tense. Nick was moody and quiet. Nathan obviously had lingering suspicions. She wondered whether the two would ever be friends.

  The atmosphere of tension grew denser as they neared the house. Nathan stopped a mile away and looked at Nick in the backseat. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,” he said mildly.

  “A great deal could go wrong,” Nick replied. “You’re not playing with amateurs.”

  “Just as long as it’s not because of you.”

  He started the car again.

  “Fair enough,” Nick said, matching Nathan’s mild tone. Sam shivered at the utter ruthlessness with which these two men she loved had to conduct their lives.

  They drove into the garage. Sam got out before anyone could help her and knocked on the door. Her mother answered it, then fixed her gaze on the tall, loose-limbed man who climbed out of the backseat.

  Her mother swallowed hard and her body tensed. Sam knew it was all she could do to remain motionless, to let Nick come to her.

  He ascended the steps at a measured pace. His expression was stiff. Cold.

  “Nicholas,” Patsy said. “Thank you for coming.”

  He remained silent for a moment, then, “You look like the photo I have.”

  She held out her hand to him, and Sam couldn’t breathe. Take it, she willed him. Take it.

  After a brief hesitation, he did. Not for long, but it was the first step.

  Her mother turned and walked inside, her back unnaturally straight. Nick stood back for Sam to go after her. She gave him a broad smile as she passed him.

  A beginning.

  Nick called McGuire on Simon’s phone. They had the judge’s direct line.

  “Remember,” Simon said, “keep it simple.”

  Nick nodded. He punched the numbers, asking for Judge McGuire and was told the judge was in the courtroom. “Tell him it’s about Tracy Merritta,” he said. “I’ll call back at five.”

  Simon approved. He’d had reservations about Nick, too, but they had seemed to fade as they sat around the kitchen table and planned out every word. “That should give him something to think about for the rest of the afternoon,” he said with satisfaction.

  Strangely enough, Simon and Nick seemed to gravitate toward each other. Sam thought it might be because Simon gave him a shield against Patsy and herself. She did manage to get him alone for a few moments. “How is Terri?”

  His face softened, and she saw something in his eyes she’d not seen before. “She’s a good friend,” he said cautiously.

  “She said you went to supper together,” she continued to probe.

  “Yes,” he replied unhelpfully.

  “Will you come and see me in Steamboat?”

  “Are you trying to be a matchmaker?”

  Her face flushed with heat.

  “I like her, Samantha,” he said. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  It was indeed.

  * * * * *

  Nick waited to call McGuire at five-thirty, thirty minutes late.

  “Let him sweat,” Simon said, handing him a cell phone. “Don’t stay on the line more than four minutes. He might have it traced, though I doubt it. He won’t want anyone to know about this.”

  McGuire picked the phone up almost immediately.

  Minutes later, Simon ran the recorded conversation for the others. If there had been any doubt that McGuire was their man, there was none now.

  “Nicholas Merritt,” Nick said. “I might have something you lost.”

  “Can’t think of anything,” McGuire said cautiously.

  “Well then, I can turn it—them—over to the proper authorities in Washington.”

  Silence. McGuire would most certainly be worried about being taped. “What do you want?”

  “A finder’s fee.”

  “Are you speaking for your family?”

  “I speak for myself.”

  “I’m sorry, young man. Whatever you have is of no interest to me.”

  “Not even a thirty-four-year old pistol?” He allowed that to sink in, then added, “Tomorrow is the weekend. I would take a trip to Chicago if I were you. It’s an interesting city.” He named a hotel. “There will be something there on your arrival.” He hung up.

  “Simon will take over a message for him tomorrow,” Nate said.

  “If he comes.”

  “Oh, he’ll come all right. He has to learn how many people know what happened thirty-four years ago, and the location of that gun.”

  “I’ve rented a cabin on a lake not far from here,” Simon said. “No one else is around, I don’t want a shoot-out in this neighborhood, or I’ll never get a loaner house again. Patsy, Samantha and Nate will stay here. I don’t think he should be involved in what’s going on. And he can protect you.”

  Nate nodded.

  “Now we wait,” Simon agreed.

  The tension in the house was thick. It wasn’t only the waiting but awkwardness. Nathan and Nick still reacted like junkyard dogs, bristling when they neared each other. Patsy Carroll tried too hard to act normally, even when her gaze constantly roamed to her son, who treated her with studied politeness.

  Nate no longer shared her bed. Nick was given the second bedroom. Simon and Nate decided to share the sofa. One watched from the window while the other slept. Sam wasn’t happy with the arrangement. She missed the feel of his body beside her, but she realized it was for the best. There was enough tension without the two of them retiring to bed together.

  But the hours crawled at night. She worried about each and e
very one of them.

  Simon left the next morning to deliver a note to the hotel, then to find a pistol identical to the one that killed an undercover agent thirty-four years ago. Nate stayed at her side while Nicholas used a laptop he’d brought with him.

  Her mother cooked, something she always did when she was nervous.

  The phone rang and Jack Maddox picked it up, listened for a moment, then hung up. “He has the note,” he told the others. “Simon says he does not look like a happy man.”

  “Anyone with him?”

  “Not at the hotel.”

  “Maybe he will try to handle it alone,” Nate said. “He used to be a cop. He knows how to use a firearm. He probably doesn’t want to bring anyone else in; a federal judge is a big catch. Someone would turn on him in a New York second for a deal.”

  They had lunch together, then it was time to split.

  Nicholas approached her. “I’m glad we met,” he said, which she knew was a huge thing for him. She looked at Nate, whose expression didn’t change.

  They were more alike than they wanted to admit. Both of them had had difficult childhoods. As a result, both had barricaded their hearts. Neither knew how to reach out or commit. She wondered whether they recognized it in each other. Probably not.

  Her mother stood there, her face agonized. Everyone in the room knew that the next few hours were going to be very dangerous. McGuire hadn’t reached his position without being damned smart.

  After a moment that seemed to last forever, Nick stepped over to Patsy Carroll. “We’ll get acquainted,” he said. There was a sudden gentleness in him that surprised Sam, but he’d surprised her before with it. Like Nate, she thought, his hard shell was there to protect a heart not as hard as he wanted everyone to think.

  Then Nick and Simon left.

  Her mother made coffee. Nate paced, pausing frequently to look outside, his body still, watchful, alert.

  She turned on the television, more for the noise than anything else. Speech was too awkward, and she suspected neither she nor her mother had the attention span for a book. An all-news station didn't help relieve the tension. Death. Civil war. Scandal.