Blood Lines: Edge of Darkness Book 3

by Vanessa Skye

  “I know,” Berg said firmly.

  Oh yeah? What about the wedding?

  “I’m going to get him back to you. I swear to you, I’ll get him back.”

  Berg stood and Liz showed her out, shutting the bedroom door behind her, glaring at Berg. “That better not have been bullshit on your part, Alicia.”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t. I’m going to do everything in my power to get him back, I promise.” She bit her bottom lip for a moment and then sighed, pulling up her big girl panties and saying what needed to be said. “But I need you to promise me something?”

  “If it means getting my brother back to my mom, I’ll do whatever you want.” Liz folded her arms across her chest.

  “Good. Answer your phone if I call you, and do what I say without question. These people Jay is with? They are not nice people. Jay would want you to be safe. I don’t want your mom to be worried but . . . do you understand me?”

  Liz nodded once.

  Berg bade her goodbye and left.

  ***

  Later that night, Berg swung open her door to face a very pissed off Arena.

  “Were you planning on telling me?” he bellowed. “Or even saying goodbye?”

  Berg stepped aside, allowing him to stalk into her apartment, and shut the door behind him. “Of course I was. I’ve just got to—”

  “This is bullshit!” He slammed his laptop on her kitchen bench and clenched his fists. “Why did you resign? And why did Smith accept?”

  “To be fair, I didn’t leave him any choice. I spared him the hassle of having to launch an investigation and eventually fire one of his detectives. He doesn’t need it in the twilight of his career,” Berg replied, shrugging. “He’s finally in the position he deserves to be in, and I’m not fucking it up for him.”

  Arena banged his fist on the kitchen counter, making the salt and pepper shakers rattle in protest. “This contempt thing? It’s nothing! He has no grounds—”

  She folded her arms. “He has more than enough grounds.” Berg raised an eyebrow. “Oliver’s contempt charge is just the final straw. The board investigation, the other board investigation, the rumors about Feeny and Young—it’s a miracle I wasn’t fired earlier.”

  Arena rubbed his face. “Oliver’s a douche, you were cleared by the board, the second investigation was a grudge courtesy of Consiglio and never went anywhere, and the other’s stuff’s not true!”

  Berg shrugged. “It’s fine. Are—”

  “It’s not fucking fine!”

  Berg held up her hands in surrender and smirked. “Okay, you need to calm down, big guy.” She chuckled and propped against the wall as Arena’s face changed from purple to its more normal human tone. “Have you heard from Cheney about what the task force found? He’s not taking my calls.”

  Arena took a deep breath. “He got his ass chewed out by Smith for letting you interview Bryant. Smith threatened to pull him off the task force if he goes off book again.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s like we thought. They didn’t do a great job cleaning up. There was DNA left behind. The new blood belonged to the most recent dealer, the old blood belonged to the other three. The guns and drugs were straight from our evidence facility, but not even half of it was there. The rest has either been sold, or it’s somewhere else. It’s possible they split it up after the gang raid, but we’ll never know for sure unless we find it.”

  Berg tried to force the next question past the lump in her throat. “Any blood from . . .”

  Arena sighed. “No. None of it was Jay’s, thank fuck. And none from our suspect or any others.”

  “Any leads on the owner of the building?” Berg walked to the couch and plopped down, tucking her feet underneath her.

  “The good news is it’s not leased but owned. The bad news is it’s owned by an offshore corporation that has so many dummy fronts and overseas holdings the Feebs’ forensic accountants can’t make heads or tails of it. They’ll be busy getting warrants for years.”

  “Does the corporation own any more buildings in the area?”

  Arena nodded and grinned, clearly approving his partner’s train of thought. “Yep. About forty. And some were bought a decade ago. Alexander’s had his feelers out in Chicago for quite some time, it seems. By the time we got the heads-up that he was coming, he was already here. We were well behind him.”

  Berg nodded. “I figured.”

  “It’s going to take the task force a while to get warrants to search all those properties,” Arena said grimly. He scanned the kitchen surfaces and then stalked over to the fridge, opening it. “Don’t you have any fucking food in here?” He slammed the door.

  “Not all of us need to eat twenty-four-seven. You were saying?”

  “There’s no guarantee that Alexander or Jay will be in any of the properties. If he’s smart, he’s moving on as we speak.”

  “Jay doesn’t have that much time left,” Berg whispered. “We have to find him now.”

  Arena frowned. “What makes you say that?”

  “A couple of things. First off, we’ve confiscated some of Alexander’s hard-earned contraband. He’ll need Jay to help him to find more. Jay’s passwords and information haven’t been good for months, however, so his usefulness is about to run out.”

  Arena cocked his head to the side. “And the other reason?”

  “I believe Alexander knew who Jay was before he even took the assignment. I believe that Jay’s involvement was a deliberate move on Alexander’s part.”

  “What!” Arena stood and began pacing. “Why?”

  “Because he’s my father,” Berg said in a rush of air.

  Arena dropped onto the couch as if his legs had just given out.

  Berg filled him in on her biological father as well as what Bryant had told her in the unsanctioned interview while Arena stared at the floor, shaking his head.

  “Jesus fuck, Berg,” Arena finally said when he regained his voice. “Is this what you and Jay fought about before he left?”

  Berg nodded. “That and the rumors.”

  Arena looked at her, frowning. “But Jay didn’t believe the rumors.”

  Berg shrugged and looked at the floor. “I know, but maybe he should have.”

  Arena bowed over like he had been sucker punched. He was quiet, nothing but his struggled breaths breaking the silence for several minutes. “You organized Feeny’s . . . and Young . . .”

  “Do you care if I did?”

  Arena sighed and leaned his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Feeny was going to get off. And so was Young, so . . . no?” He turned his head and looked at her before shrugging. “But I’m guessing Jay did . . . a whole bunch. He’s more straight down the line than I am, and certainly more so than you. If he knew you’d—”

  Berg nodded. “Jay sees things in black and white. I live in a world of gray. If I hadn’t done what I’ve done, none of this would have happened,” she whispered. “Whatever way you look at it, it’s my fault he is where he is.”

  Arena pulled Berg into his arms and gave her a fierce hug. “Are you going to go and get him?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you planning on coming back alive?”

  “No.”

  Arena sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t let you—”

  “It’s not your decision to make, Arena.” Berg pulled away. “You have two choices. You can either help me get Jay back, or get the fuck out of my way.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Arena stayed, opening his laptop and showing Berg what he had been working on. “So I got ahold of as much traffic and surveillance camera footage near your place as I could after you left.” He shifted his laptop around so Berg, who was sitting next to him on the couch, could see it. “I followed him from your place all the way to I-94 near Mayfair before I lost him. There’s just not as many traffic cams that far out of the city.”

  A surveillance camera near her place h
ad picked up a lone, hooded figure on foot walking swiftly away from her place.

  Berg cursed as she watched the images flicker.

  If only I’d been quicker.

  Another cam had picked him up two blocks over getting into a dark-colored SUV.

  “The height and build is right for Jay, but can you see his face in any?”

  “Yes, I’ve got s screen shot of him driving the SUV east along the Kennedy,” Arena said, clicking on a file.

  Berg gasped and fought back the tears that formed as she looked as Jay’s familiar, beloved face behind the wheel of the SUV.

  He looked the same yet subtly different. His face was thinner, but that wasn’t it. There was a hardness about his eyes and mouth, a bitterness that had slightly altered his features. He looked older, somehow.

  “Plates?” she whispered, wiping her face free of tears.

  “It was reported stolen.” Arena rubbed her back gently as he spoke. “No doubt we’ll find it dumped somewhere soon.”

  “Can we figure out where he might have been headed? Maybe cross-check possible routes with places owned by the same company as the industrial apartment?”

  Arena nodded. “Already done. From the location of the last camera to pick him up, he could have stayed on I-94 and gone north, or gotten onto I-90 and gone west. That still leaves twelve possible addresses to check, and that’s only if he didn’t double back. That’s a lot of warrants and a lot of man hours.” He shifted on the couch and squeezed her shoulder gently. “Plus, I haven’t told anyone about this yet. I wanted to run it by you first, and see if you, I don’t know, had some ideas?”

  “I’m not with the CPD anymore. I don’t have to wait for warrants or SWAT,” Berg said grimly. “E-mail the addresses to my laptop, and I’ll check them out.”

  “Alone?” Arena asked, raising his eyebrows. “It will take you a month to check out that many locations. Not to mention the danger you’ll be putting yourself in in the process.”

  “You think I give a shit about that?” Berg jerked out of his grasp, her voice rising. “I have to do something!”

  Arena raised his hands. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re going to get him out at all costs. Let’s just think it through first, okay? Work out a plan? Do you even have a plan? Say you do find him, what’s next? You just going to walk into what will be, no doubt, a heavily fortified and well-guarded building and drag him out? There is no need for a kamikaze mission here. Just chill for a bit and think it through.”

  Berg sighed. “I’m going offer Alexander a trade—me for Jay. I’ll stay if they let him go. My codes and information are more recent and, my guess is, still active. He’ll see the value in that if he’s smart.”

  “So . . . what? You’re going to help Alexander with his operation?”

  Berg gave him her very best you’re-an-idiot stare. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to help the man who ruined my life.” The sarcasm dripped from every word. “That’s totally my plan.” Berg twisted her mouth into a deriding grin and rolled her eyes.

  “Really? And then what?”

  “As soon as Jay’s out, I’m going to take Alexander down.”

  “How?”

  Berg shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something on the fly.”

  “On. The. Fly.” Arena gaped then scrubbed his hands back and forth through his hair. “Yep. Great fucking idea—take on a brutal arms and drugs dealer without a plan or backup. Do you want to get yourself killed?” Arena’s voice rose again.

  “My priority is to get Jay out and see Alexander dead. The rest is just . . . details.”

  Arena sighed. “You’re missing the rather obvious flaw in this plan, Berg.”

  “Which is?”

  “Jay may not want to leave. He’s been there for a while now. He’s married to Alexander’s daughter. He got out long enough to give you your ring, but he didn’t stick around or turn himself in. We can only assume he went back there voluntarily. So he’s clearly not a prisoner.”

  “He’s there under duress.” Berg frowned. “He has to be.”

  “And if he’s not?”

  “Then we’ll soon know one way or another,” Berg said.

  “Look. Don’t be a suicidal idiot.” Arena tapped the laptop sitting on the table. “Let’s give this camera info to Cheney, let him organize multiple raids on the possible twelve—”

  “What exactly do you think will happen once Alexander sees SWAT raiding his places? He’ll move on, and Jay will be dead before the first perimeter breach!”

  “It’s the only—”

  “Bullshit! My going in alone is the only way to ensure Jay stays alive long enough to get him out. We’ve only got one shot. You know it, and I know it.”

  Arena scowled. “At least let me help.”

  Berg was shaking her head before he’d even finished speaking. “You can’t. You’ll be fired.”

  “I don’t give a fuck!” Arena yelled.

  “Okay, okay. Calm the fuck down,” Berg said. “You can help me. I’m going to need firepower. All I’ve got is my personal revolver and a knife.”

  “Fine.” Arena pulled out his notepad and clicked his pen. “What do you need?”

  “Semiautomatics, multiple flashbangs, tear gas, and more serious weapons if you can get a hold of them, grenades and the like.”

  Arena nodded. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. I’m going to get you a vest as well. I’d never forgive myself if you went in there without one. And let’s face it, Jay would certainly never forgive me. When do you need it by?”

  “ASAP. Tomorrow, if possible. First thing. I’m going to start checking out these addresses in the morning. I just have to put a blond bitch in her place first,” Berg said, her fists clenching.

  “I’m not even gonna ask,” Arena muttered.

  Chapter Thirty

  Berg marched into Carla’s office at the Cook County State’s Attorney building before seven o’clock. While the SA himself was on the top floor, Maroney hadn’t made it past the midway point located on the seventh floor—although Berg was sure Maroney was planning on changing that as soon as she could.

  Wonder if the ruthless shrew is blackmailing anyone else to help make that happen?

  It was a ghost town this time of the morning, but Berg figured an ambitious wench like the ASA would be at her desk.

  Gratified to see she was right, she barged through the door without knocking.

  “Why the fuck would you tell a sick old woman that?”

  Carla looked startled for a moment before carefully arranging her features into the usual scornful expression she seemed to reserve for Berg. “What is your problem now?” She arched a brow. “Have you completely lost what little was left of your mind? I’m leaving you alone—kindly extend me the same courtesy.”

  Berg bent down, putting her hands flat on the surface, and loomed over Carla. “Why would you tell Carmel O’Loughlin that Jay got married?”

  Carla shrugged. “She called me wanting information. I gave it to her.”

  “She nearly died, you callous bitch! She’s fucking heartbroken!”

  “I thought it would help,” Carla yelled back. “She seemed to think Jay was being held against his will. I assured her he wasn’t and that he voluntarily married Ni—”

  Berg lowered her body until she was eye level with Carla. “And how the fuck would you know any of that? It’s well above your pay grade. You are not even a part of the team working with the task force!”

  Carla’s eyes skittered away. “I-I just, uh, assumed that was the case . . .”

  “Bullshit. You’ve been too well informed about Jay’s need-to-know operation from the beginning. Way too well informed.” Berg scowled. “Are you with Alexander?”

  “No! I—”

  Berg grabbed the front of the woman’s pristine, white shirt and dragged her out of her expensive, ergonomic chair, slamming her into the wall.

  Her head bounced off the hard surface with a crack, an
d Carla winced.

  Berg placed her hands on either side of Carla’s head. “Then how the fuck do you know what you know?”

  “I don’t know anything!”

  “Bullshit.” Berg towered over Carla as she got in the smaller woman’s face. “Do you know where he is?” Berg asked, her fists clenching. “Do you know who recommended him for the job to the SA? Who set him up?”

  “Let it go! He left you, Alicia. Get over it.” Carla tried to step away from Berg but only found the unforgiving wall at her back and Berg’s hard arms at her sides.

  “Thanks to you and your little revelation about a father I never met, yeah, he did leave me,” Berg said. “That I can accept. But Jay, third generation cop with a heart of gold, suddenly turning to a life of crime? That’s insane. Does that sound like the Jay you know?”

  Carla refused to meet Berg’s glare, turning her head toward the filing cabinets in the corner of the room and remaining silent.

  “Because it’s sure as shit is not the Jay I know. He is where he is because of me. Alexander took him to punish me, and fucked if I’m going to let his life be ruined because of it!” Berg stepped away. “I’m not worth it, and we both know it. Jay is. You cared about him once. You were going to marry him. For the love of God, tell me where he is.” Berg brushed away the angry tears that had formed on her lashes.

  Carla gulped. “I don’t know where he is, I swear. But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “But I might know someone who does.” Carla looked like a caged bird, her eyes darting all over the room.

  Berg clenched her jaw and her fists. “You either do or you don’t, Maroney. And just so you know, I’d prefer violence at this point to get it out of you.”

  “I know who recommended Jay to the State’s Attorney.”

  “Who?”

  “I-it’s complicated. If I tell you, things could get bad for me.” Her blue eyes swam with tears as she silently begged Berg to understand.

  Berg punched the wall next to Carla’s face, cracking the drywall and leaving a smear of blood on the wall from her knuckles. She didn’t even feel it. “Tell me!” she screamed.