by Cathi Stoler
Helen gave him a hard, cold look of her own.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, okay?” Joe reached over and took her hand in his. “So, no tailing Ralphie, and definitely no surveillance of the Three Aces or crossing paths with the OCU. I don’t want any of those guys to see you again, even in one of your disguises. Understand?” She nodded her assent. “I’ll come by later and take a look at the DVD with you.” He slid out of the booth and headed toward Nick, standing guard behind the cash register.
Deciding to give credence to the lie she had told Aaron Gerrard, Helen followed Joe. “I’m going to my office to work on some other stuff and meet with Maxine. I’ll be home after lunch. Just do me a favor and give me a call before you come over.”
“What? You hiding some guy upstairs and don’t want me showing up on your doorstep unannounced?” They exited the diner.
“You’d be surprised. There’s been a lot of that going around lately.” She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Walking off down the street as calmly as possible, she turned once and waved over her shoulder, leaving Joe looking bewildered.
Chapter 24
Thursday, 9:46 a.m.
Aaron was happy Laurel couldn’t read his mind. If she could, she’d probably be angry about the thoughts racing through it since they left. What am I doing in this car, heading off to Pennsylvania with this person I swore never to see again? This is not a good idea, flashed through his brain over and over like a neon sign on the fritz.
They hadn’t spoken much during the trip. In fact, the atmosphere in the car was charged with tension from the moment he started the car and they pulled away from the Thirteenth Precinct.
Aaron’s radar was still on full alert. He’d planned to use their travel time to find out what Laurel and Helen discussed on their trip to the restroom. His instincts told him it was something to do with the case and his instincts were rarely wrong.
So far the few probing questions he’d managed to ask had produced nothing. Laurel stonewalled him at every turn. He finally took the direct approach. “What was that all about between you and Helen back at the precinct?”
She seemed to be waiting for this.
“Nothing really.” She turned in her seat and looked him right in the eye. “We were just going over a few things for her background search.”
He pondered her answer as she busied herself with the directions clutched in her hand. She switched off the GPS, saying she preferred her printed instructions. An excuse not to talk, he was sure. Her focus was as intense as if they were traveling to another planet. Was it just a ruse to ignore what she didn’t want to hear and evade his questions?
He was about to snap back at her with a nasty reply but made the mistake of cutting his eyes the exact moment she looked up and the words evaporated on his lips. Man, she is beautiful. His masculine self was undermining his detective self and he didn’t know what to do about it. One minute he wanted to strangle her, the next take her in his arms and kiss her. That is definitely not a good idea, he thought.
He let the questions drop and drove on in silence, a frown pasted on his face. He’d have plenty of time to get into it later when he was more in control.
She ignored his angry demeanor and stared out the window. After a while, she checked her watch. They had left the city a little after 8:00 a.m. and, according to his calculations, they should be arriving in the center of town in about half an hour. The closer they got, the more nervous Laurel seemed.
He decided to keep it nonchalant and opened his mouth to speak again. So did Laurel, uttering his name at the exact time he said hers.
“Aaron.”
“Laurel.”
The sudden sound that filled the quiet car startled them both. “Sorry,” said Laurel.
“No, go ahead.” Aaron nodded for her to continue.
“I know you don’t think we … I … should be poking around in this … in Anne’s disappearance and in David Adams’s life, but I feel responsible and have to follow it through, for the magazine … and for myself.” Her voice rose with every word.
“See, that’s what I really don’t understand.” Aaron couldn’t keep his anger from coming through. “You’re not responsible. Anne was a grown woman. She asked for your advice. You gave it. If she didn’t take it, it’s not your fault. You advised her to leave but you didn’t make her disappear.”
Laurel visibly blanched at his harsh words. “You’re wrong. In a sense I did. It’s what I told her to do—to disappear and never come back.” Aaron heard the breath being expelled from her lungs as she struggled to get out her next words. “Do you think she’s dead?”
“I have no idea,” Aaron answered in a gentler tone. He did, though. The kind of case this was, with her car abandoned and the fiancé missing, chances were the woman was dead and David Adams had moved on to looking for his next victim. Laurel didn’t need to know what Aaron believed. Not yet, anyway. “Everyone’s doing their best to find her. Right now, all we can do is wait and see what develops.”
Laurel kept her gaze straight ahead, away from Aaron. “What was it you were going to say to me? You know, before.”
“Oh,” his tone was all business now. “I told you Doylestown PD might not want to speak to you because you’re a reporter. But Norm Schnall and I talked again late last night and he understands how you became involved. I just wanted you to know that.”
“I see.” Laurel’s shoulders stiffened.
“They’re following the money. That list Anne Ellsworth found with the numbers and amounts written on it? They found a duplicate in Adams’s desk at work. He must have forgotten it, or gotten scared with Anne leaving him and not returned to the office to collect it. Doylestown PD is looking at the records from the brokerage firm where he was employed and checking every account he came in contact with. It’s possible he had an accomplice at work, someone who helped him cover up the thefts and move the money. They’re checking that premise out and if it is true, they’ll try to find the other person as well. They’re also visiting banks, local and state to start. If that doesn’t pan out, they’ll move to out-of-state banks to see if any new accounts have been opened in his name or any of his aliases. Personally, I think the money is gone, and probably even out of the country by now.”
“Think so?” Laurel snorted sarcastically in agreement. “It would make sense for him to move it, especially if he did something to Anne and planned to leave the area.”
Aaron steered carefully around the twists and curves of the country road they were on. “Forensics is inspecting the note for prints and running them against the FBI database. By the time we arrive, they should know if they have a match with any of David Adams’s AKAs.”
“And Anne?” There was a chill in her voice. “What are they doing about her?”
“They’re doing everything they can to find her—talking to people, tracing her movements, contacting hospitals …” His voice trailed off. If she were anyone else, he probably would have told her about the search of the wooded areas outside of town mounted by Norm Schnall. Something made him hold back that information. Why would you do that? Is it because you know she’s holding back? Or, are you trying to protect her?
Shaking off the mental gymnastics, he turned to Laurel. “We’re entering Peddler’s Village. I think we’re about ten minutes away.”
Laurel consulted her directions. “Looks that way. Make the next right onto Route two-oh-two, and follow it into town. I’ll tell you where to go once we get to the center.”
* * *
Laurel folded the directions and looked out the window, trying to enjoy the picturesque countryside. It was green and fresh. The cool air floating in through the window brought a feeling of promise, a far cry from what she was experiencing. The ring of her cellphone escaped from her purse.
Damn, I forgot to turn off my cell after I checked messages when we stopped for gas. Earlier this morning, she had left very brief messages for John and her dad, and while she hadn
’t lied about her plan for today, she hadn’t exactly told the truth, either. In fact, she made it sound as though it was Aaron’s idea rather than hers to go to Pennsylvania and meet with the police. She figured it would keep the two men from trying to stop her, or from asking too many questions. Now the phone rang and she’d probably have some explaining to do, which would be hard with Aaron sitting right next to her. She let it play on, willing the call to go to voicemail.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Aaron thrust his chin in the direction of the sound.
“Yeah.” Laurel stalled, shifting in her seat, and then bent down, pretending to reach for her purse, which she had placed between her seat and the door. She took her time groping to retrieve it. She unzipped it slowly and rooted around for the phone. By the time she pulled it out, the ringing stopped. “Guess I missed it. I’ll listen to my voicemail.” Laurel punched in her code and Aaron stayed quiet as she waited for the phone to play back the message.
It was Jenna, sounding anxious and stressed, even by her standards. “It’s me. I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.” Probably a fight with Tony. Laurel rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious,” the message continued as though Jenna could hear her thoughts. “I saw Malin last night and he …” Jenna hesitated and Laurel heard something in her voice she’d never heard before—fear. “He told me some things about … about Matt. Please, please. Call me as soon as you can.”
Laurel’s stomach turned over. What could Jenna have found out?
Aaron must have noticed her body jerk up. “Everything all right?”
Her mouth went dry and she had trouble answering. “Fine. Just Jenna, asking if we could get together. I’ll call her back later.” Laurel opened the directions again and studied them, trying to forestall any more questions. “Um, we’re just a few blocks away. Make a right onto North Hamilton, then another right onto West Court.”
From the tight, hard line of his mouth, Laurel sensed Aaron wanted to call her on what she said and suspected she was holding back again. Please, God, I don’t want to talk about this now. I’ll never make him understand. Her emotions were in turmoil from Jenna’s message. She was saved from any further inquiries as they turned a corner and pulled up in front of the Doylestown Police Station.
They exited the car and a man came out of the old brick building, hand already outstretched and reaching for Aaron’s. His smile showed that he was genuinely glad to see the identity theft detective. Laurel guessed it was Detective Schnall.
The men said their hellos and Laurel appraised the Doylestown detective. Standing at about six foot two, the bulky man was dressed in a tailored sports jacket and cuffed pants Laurel sensed were designed to add a certain casualness to his big-man presence.
There was nothing casual about his face, however. Set off by sharp green eyes that took her in at a glance, his face was filled with a road map of deep lines and furrows that probably had more to do with his job than his age.
Aaron introduced her to the older detective and Norm suggested they grab a cup of coffee at the diner around the corner to get acquainted before they got down to business.
Was this easygoing invitation the detective’s way of assessing her and deciding just how much about the case he’d let her in on? Laurel tensed.
“So, anything going on we should know about?” Aaron asked.
Her heart skipped a beat as Detective Schnall looked at Aaron and nodded. He had the kind of glint in his eye she imagined a detective got when he locked into a good clue.
“As a matter of fact, there is. We just got the results back from our bank inquiries. It seems our Mr. Adams opened a rather large new account out of state, under his John Collier alias.” He pulled out his notebook and turned to a page. “It was for fifty thousand dollars, deposited three days ago at the ZurichBank AG in New York.”
Part II
Chapter 25
Thursday, 10:00 a.m.
Suave Sal Santucci wasn’t happy. And when he wasn’t happy, neither was anyone around him, especially Vic and Bennie, the two captains he awakened at 6:30 this morning. “Get rid of the comares and meet me at the Three Aces now. We got a situation.”
Sal had no doubt each man would leave his girlfriend sleeping soundly in bed and head out right away. They wouldn’t dare keep him waiting, not after hearing the agita in his voice.
Now, sitting at his usual table at the Three Aces, throwing back his fourth double espresso—strong, black, caffeine-laden—Sal pondered his options.
To the uninitiated, Sal looked like any ordinary, successful, well-dressed businessman having a morning coffee before he faced his busy day. As the head of New York’s most powerful crime family, he was extremely successful, although anything but ordinary. He might look calm and collected, but his elegant, quiet demeanor was a façade. Like the eye of a storm, Sal sat still and unmoving, yet he charged the air around him with such force it seemed to suck everything and everyone into its vortex.
Sal was as angry as he’d ever been. Neither captain would dare ask him what had caused the problem even though they were called upon to solve it. He’d let them know what to do when he was ready. Everyone in his crew understood that was how it worked. One wrong move, or one stupid question, and he made sure somebody got a permanent transfer to Jersey. Or worse.
Sal threw back another espresso, thinking about the reputation he had cultivated all these years. People believed he was ruthless, brutal and lethal, a psychopathic killer feared on his turf. Good. He nodded to himself. It’s good they get the message loud and clear. The tri-state area was dotted with unmarked graves of those who hadn’t and paid with their lives.
Sal hadn’t reached his position as head of the New York Giambello crime family by brute force alone. Along the way to the top, he made good use of the street smarts he was born with, often rising above and eliminating his competitors by using brains instead of brawn.
The Feds knew all there was to know about him and had spent years trying to make a case against him. For one reason or another—a key witness disappearing, a greedy judge willing to look the other way, crucial evidence going up in smoke—they never made the charges stick. Sal was a free man and determined to keep it that way.
He reviewed what happened today to put him at risk. First, he received a phone call very early in the morning from a friend in Siena. This friend had received two phone calls late last night: one from Zurich and one from Sicily. Someone from New York called around, asking questions about a certain party. Everyone knew what to say. They were paid well to keep their mouths shut.
Sal made a few phone calls and through his contacts found out who was behind the questions. He wondered how Sicily came into play so quickly. He didn’t like it but he’d have to deal with that later.
But, there was a more important matter to attend to first. A crucial business item was missing. The kid had called a little while ago and informed Sal of its disappearance. He had ransacked his office trying to find it, thinking he might have misfiled it. It was gone. He didn’t know how they managed it, but he was sure someone had been in his place and taken it. The kid was scared. It was his responsibility and he was afraid of the consequences. He was right to be scared.
The item was part of a project Sal directed personally. If it wasn’t recovered soon, it could put Sal and the whole New York organization at risk.
The kid was beginning to panic, and Sal knew panicking wouldn’t do anyone any good. The kid knew the lost item might end up being the deal closer—without it, they had no leverage if things went south. He also knew he’d be the first one to take the fall if it couldn’t be retrieved.
Sal couldn’t tolerate carelessness. It made him very angry. They had to have a little sit-down when this matter was settled. A little talk to get the kid back on track.
Sal had calmed him down, told him he had a pretty good idea who was responsible and he’d get the item back. Think of it as done. He was fond of the kid; he’d do his best not to let anyt
hing to happen to him.
Now he had to make good on that statement. “Fa’nculo!” He stifled a burp. All this aggravation made his stomach churn and someone was going to pay.
“Putana.” The word slipped out before he realized it. He was losing control and that was totally unacceptable. “Vic! Get the car! We’re taking a ride uptown.” He threw back the last shot of his espresso and flung the cup across the room. The sound of it crashing against the wall brought a smile of satisfaction to his face.
Chapter 26
Thursday, 10:35 a.m.
Helen changed her mind and decided to head home before meeting with her assistant, Maxine. If I’m going to burn a copy of that damn DVD, I should do it at my office. The office safe is stronger. I might as well stop by the brownstone, pick it up and get it done.
Every time she thought about it, a little trickle of fear crept down her spine. Thank God, Joe is going to help me. It makes me feel safer knowing he’s on my side.
Helen walked down Second Avenue and turned east onto her street. The day was mild, almost balmy, and it made her think of getting away to the Bahamas for a few days when this case was over. Maybe she’d ask Mike to go with her. It would be a well-earned break. She was so caught up in her vision of balmy days, cool nights, and hot sex that she didn’t hear the man come up behind her until he spoke.
“Ms. McCorkendale.” His voice, deep and gruff, startled her. She quickly turned toward it, putting her hand on her purse, where she’d tucked her gun. It wasn’t quick enough. He moved fast for a big man and his hand was on her arm in a flash, gently but firmly steering her away from her staircase and the safety of her house toward a silver Lexus parked at the curb. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Santucci would like to have a word with you.”