Next of Kin

by Sharon Sala

  Lou frowned. “I’m sorry to give you this kind of news in the middle of all your other troubles.”

  “They’re dead, Granny. There’s nothing worse than that.”

  Lou slapped the table lightly. “Well, that’s in the past, so enough history for tonight. We all need rest. Tomorrow will come too soon as it is. Ryal, the last bedroom down the hall is yours tonight. It’s the one Will stays in when he stops by. Bethie gets the one across the hall from me.”

  “Yes, ma’am, and thank you again for the invitation,” Ryal said as he got up from the table. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

  “No, but I thank you for asking. We’ll be fine.”

  Ryal glanced briefly at Beth before looking away. “Then I’ll see the both of you in the morning.”

  He walked down the hall with the soft murmur of their voices behind him, then into the bedroom. The colorful hand-braided rug at the side of the bed was a popular choice around here, as was the oil lamp on the bedside table, ready for the times when the power would go out, which in the mountains was a common occurrence.

  Even after he was lying in bed, he could hear Lou getting Beth settled, fussing over her comfort and making sure she had doctored her hands again.

  Finally the house got quiet and everyone had fallen to sleep, lulled by the dying winds of the passing storm and the sound of raindrops on the roof.

  Beth was dreaming, but in the dream, the horror was all too real.

  She was walking back into Sarah’s apartment again, seeing the light flickering through the open door to Sarah’s bedroom, going in to tell her that she was back and to thank her again for putting up with all the trouble she’d caused.

  Only this time her heart was pounding, her steps slow and unsteady as she pushed the door inward, because she already knew what she was going to find. But then the dream morphed into a horror she hadn’t expected. Sarah was still dead, but when Beth walked into the room, Sarah suddenly blinked, then slowly focused on Beth’s face.

  Beth saw her lips moving. Blood began bubbling at the corner of her mouth, and then she started to cry.

  “It should have been you who died, not me. Not me. Not me!”

  Beth screamed.

  The piercing shriek woke both Lou and Ryal at the same time. He was struggling to get out of bed when he heard the patter of Lou’s bare feet as she flew out of her room and across the hall into the room where Beth was sleeping. He could hear Beth sobbing, and the soft murmur of Lou’s voice. He wanted to help, but knew he would be intruding, so he sat on the side of the bed instead and listened in, excusing it on a need-to-know basis.

  Lou crawled into the bed beside Beth just as she used to do when Beth was small and had suffered a bad dream. She wrapped her granddaughter in her arms and cuddled her close.

  “It was just a bad dream, Bethie…just a bad dream. Granny Lou’s here.”

  Beth buried her face in her grandmother’s bosom as she sobbed.

  Lou hurt for what Beth was going through, but she knew from experience that sharing a load made it lighter to bear.

  “Talk to me, Bethie. Get rid of the ghosts. Don’t let them pester your dreams.”

  Beth’s thoughts went faster than the words she managed to mutter, but it didn’t matter. Lou didn’t need to hear the details as much as Beth needed to purge.

  “Oh, Granny…Sarah was…best friend…my fault. Shot…her blood…pillow and bed. First safe house wasn’t safe…moved me to a new place, but they found me. Thought it was pizza delivery, then…shooting everywhere. I fell down behind the sofa…bullets over my head. Moved me to a third house…all over again…scared…so scared…more bullets and shouting and…jumped out a window and ran.”

  Ryal closed his eyes. The wall between them was a symbol of more than distance, but it was the terror in her voice that united them in a mutual goal. She needed him—she needed all of them to keep her safe—and when it came down to it, no matter how distant and no matter what lay between them, that would always be enough.

  Granny Lou was still in bed with Beth when dawn broke. Beth felt the warmth of her granny’s arm across her belly and opened her eyes, relaxing as she remembered where she was.

  She hadn’t looked too closely last night, but now, in the quiet of first light, she was surprised at how familiar this room actually seemed. She remembered sleeping here as a child, and that this wasn’t the first time her grandmother had come to her bed to comfort her after a bad dream.

  The plain white walls needed a fresh coat of paint, but it was still neat as a pin and with the same decorations: the picture of Jesus on his knees praying in the garden, an old cuckoo clock that no longer kept time, and a photo of her and her cousins, taken at some family gathering years ago. It took a moment for Beth to realize just how much family she still had here, and that she was only one of Lou Venable’s grandchildren. She wondered what had happened to all of them, and where they were now. Like her, they would all be grown, but unlike her, they were probably married with children.

  Beth’s life had been stunted by her mother’s betrayal, but her parents had let her bear the burden of thinking they’d left Rebel Ridge because of her. She felt sad for all she’d lost. Had she not witnessed a murder, she might never have come back here.

  It was obviously too late for her and Ryal, but she prayed it was never too late to reconnect with family. She sighed, then realized that her grandmother was awake and watching her face.

  “How’s my sweet girl this morning?” Lou said softly.

  Beth smiled as she turned to face her granny. “I’m good, Granny Lou. In fact, I’m better than I have been in weeks.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Lou said, and then threw back the covers in a matter-of-fact motion and sat up. Her long gray braid dangled over her shoulder as she swung her feet off the side of the bed. “I’d best be up and get us all some breakfast before you leave out.”

  “Where am I going next?” Beth asked.

  “I’m not sure, but that’s for your safekeeping, not because I don’t care. That way, if someone asks, I can truthfully say I don’t know.”

  Beth’s eyes widened as she thought of someone threatening Granny Lou to make her talk. What if Pappas’s hired killers found out where she was and followed her here? Would her presence get her own family killed?

  “Oh, Lord, Granny, I don’t want to put anyone here in danger. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

  “You hush now. This is exactly where you should be. God will take care of the rest,” Lou said, then eyed Beth’s hands. “Just come on into the kitchen as soon as you’re dressed. Bring your hairbrush, and I’ll brush out your hair just like I used to when you were little.”

  “Thank you, Granny. I would love that.”

  Lou smiled and winked. “I haven’t had a chance to do anything for you in far too many years. It’s for me as much as it is for you.”

  She left the room on bare feet and closed the door behind her.

  Beth got up and went down the hall to the bathroom. When she came out, Ryal’s door was open and she could hear the sound of voices in the kitchen. So he was up early, too. She shivered, wondering what this day would bring.

  Special Agent Ames was waiting in his boss’s outer office to inform him that he’d heard from Beth Venable. He didn’t like to admit that Pappas could have a mole in the Bureau, but knew it was likely, considering how many safe houses had been breached. For that reason, he’d told no one that he’d heard from her. The chief was going to be the first to know.

  When the phone rang on the secretary’s desk, he looked up. When she nodded at him, he let himself into the boss’s office.

  Ames eyed the Bureau chief, Mac Harrison, who preferred to be addressed as “sir,” as he stood up behind his desk. When Ames entered, Harrison nodded and gestured toward a chair.

  “Good morning, Ames. Have a seat.”

  “Good morning, sir. Thank you.” Ames sat, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair as Harri
son settled into his seat.

  “So what is it you have to tell me that couldn’t be said over a phone?” Harrison asked.

  Ames leaned forward. “How certain are you that this room is safe?”

  Harrison frowned. “If you’re referring to the possibility that my office could be bugged, I can assure you that it is not, and I’ll try not to be insulted by the question.”

  Ames flushed but held his ground. “There’s a leak in the organization somewhere, because I have two dead agents, a third in intensive care and a missing witness to prove it. Sir.”

  Harrison’s cheeks reddened, but he didn’t argue. Facts were facts.

  “What do you have to tell me that I don’t know?”

  “The missing witness called me.”

  “Where is she? Have you already picked her up? We need to let the federal prosecutor know. It’s Caine, right? I’ll give him a—”

  “Sir. Wait. She wouldn’t tell me where she is. She called to tell me that she’ll still testify, but she’s not coming back until Pappas is sitting in a courtroom being tried for his crime.”

  Harrison’s eyebrows knitted angrily. “That’s preposterous. She doesn’t get to call the shots like—”

  “She doesn’t trust the LAPD and she doesn’t trust us—and with good cause on both fronts. I don’t like it, either, but I understand where she’s coming from.”

  “Then find her!” Harrison said angrily.

  “Or…we could proceed with gathering evidence against Pappas and trust her to keep her word and come in when she’s needed.”

  “I don’t—”

  Ames sighed. Harrison wasn’t getting it. “Sir, may I be honest?”

  Harrison’s frown deepened, but he reluctantly nodded and leaned back in his chair.

  “We both know she’s right. There was a leak in the LAPD that got her friend killed. And like it or not, we have a leak in our security, too. It’s highly likely that bringing her back would be signing her death warrant. We already had her in protective custody at three different locations, and they were all breached. We nearly got her killed. I can’t blame her for not wanting to come back.”

  Harrison stood abruptly and strode toward the windows overlooking the city.

  Ames waited silently. He’d said all he needed to say.

  Finally, Harrison turned around.

  “I’ll let Caine know. In the meantime, you and your men keep digging. If we have a leak, I’ll deal with it. As for Pappas, there’s got to be a weak link in his organization, as well. Man or woman, find it.”

  Ames didn’t comment, although he could have told Harrison that wasn’t going to happen. No one who worked for Ike Pappas would ever roll over on him. The world wasn’t big enough for them ever to hide and escape the man’s wrath. Still, he left the office with a lighter step. The knowledge of Beth Venable’s promise had been passed on to a higher authority. Now if someone found out she’d called in, it wouldn’t be from his lips.

  Seven

  Ike was in his office on a long-distance call to Chicago when his secretary knocked quietly, then slipped inside.

  He frowned as he covered the mouthpiece. “I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but they wouldn’t wait.” She stepped aside as two federal agents walked in flashing their badges.

  Ike’s frown deepened, but he didn’t let his displeasure show in his voice as he took his hand from the mouthpiece.

  “Carlo…I’m sorry to interrupt, but something just came up. We’ll talk again tomorrow…same time, okay?”

  He hung up the phone and then stood. He was a big man. He didn’t like anyone looking down at him when they spoke.

  “At the risk of sounding clichéd, to what do I owe the honor?”

  One of the agents, a stocky redheaded man with a burn scar on his cheek, spoke up. “I’m Agent Burke. This is Agent Browning. Federal Prosecutor Ashton Caine wishes to speak with you.”

  Ike recognized the name, but he didn’t react.

  “I’m sorry, but my schedule is full today. I can move some time around tomorrow and—”

  “Technically, this isn’t a request,” Burke said.

  Ike’s chin jutted. “Do you have a warrant?”

  “Surely you’re as interested in finding out who killed your ex-wife as we are?”

  They had him, and they knew it. It pissed off Ike. If he raised hell, it would only make him look guilty. But after the way Adam had gone off on him last night, being taken in for questioning wasn’t going to be easy to explain away.

  “Of course I am. You should have said what it was about in the first place, but why are the Feds investigating that? I thought LAPD had the case.”

  Neither agent commented.

  Ike picked up the phone and buzzed his secretary. “Cancel my appointments and reschedule what’s necessary. I’ll be down at the federal courthouse if you need me.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  Ike disconnected, then began making another call. “I’m calling my driver to pick me up out front.”

  “You can ride with us,” Burke said.

  Ike smiled, but there was no friendliness behind it. “Unless I’m under arrest, I don’t ride with cops, even if they’re federal ones.”

  Burke didn’t blink.

  “Well? Am I?”

  “Are you what?” Burke asked.

  “Under arrest?”

  “No, sir,” Burke said.

  “Then I’ll meet you at the fucking courthouse.”

  “We’ll follow you there.”

  Ike was ticked. They were keeping him on a tight leash, and he didn’t know why. Why had the Feds taken over Lorena’s case? What did they know that he didn’t? Maybe he shouldn’t have let up on finding that witness. If she was back in the city, he had a whole other set of problems.

  The introductions and seating arrangements inside the federal prosecutor’s office were a matter of protocol as Ike Pappas was escorted inside. Ashton Caine was on one side of the desk and Ike was on the other. The two agents stood quietly at the back of the room. It offended Ike to think they would believe him so stupid as to cause trouble in a public building, and a federal one at that. But he kept a calm demeanor and an open expression on his face as he settled into the chair. In no way did he want anyone to think he was defensive.

  He watched Caine’s face, thinking to himself that the man reminded him of a bulldog—not very tall, but muscular, with a short neck and a nose that had been broken more than once. Caine was supposedly busy sorting papers in a file, but Pappas knew it was nothing more than a ruse to try to make him nervous. It wasn’t working.

  As for Ashton Caine, he was amped to be working on the Pappas case but had no intention of letting it show. Getting a conviction would make his career. Caine decided he’d given Pappas enough time to get ticked and finally looked up.

  “Thank you for coming in.”

  Caine wasn’t the only one with moves. Ike leaned back and crossed his legs, as if settling in for a nice cozy visit.

  “I’m happy to do anything that would help you in finding Lorena’s killer. My son, Adam, is devastated.”

  “But you’re not?” Caine said.

  Ike shrugged. “We’ve been divorced for several years…amicably, of course. Adam and I dined with her at least twice a month, as I’m sure you know, often in her apartment. Lorena likes…liked to cook.”

  Caine scanned a sheet of paper before him. “You own the apartment building where she was killed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you set her up in the apartment as part of your divorce agreement?”

  “Actually, no. She got the Miami estate in our divorce decree, but she wanted to be close to Adam so I set her up in one of the larger apartments in town.”

  Caine made a note.

  Ike wished he’d brought his glasses. He was pretty good at reading upside down.

  “Was your ex-wife seeing anyone?” Caine asked.

  Ike shr
ugged. “I have no idea, but it wouldn’t have mattered to me if she was. I date when the urge hits me. I assume she did the same, but she would never tell me something that personal. You might ask Adam. He was more aware of the personal aspect of his mother’s life than I.”

  Caine made another note.

  Ike was getting ticked. “What’s this all about? I canceled an entire morning’s worth of appointments to comply with your request, and yet you haven’t asked me one damn thing that hasn’t already been asked by your agents and the LAPD.”

  Caine responded with a question. “Can you explain why the surveillance system wasn’t working at the building where your ex-wife lived?”

  “That’s a dumb question, Caine. We both know you found the security guard dead, so I assume the killer was responsible. Surely you came to the same conclusion. Believe me, if I knew who did this, he’d already be dead. By the way…do you have any suspects?”

  Caine’s gaze never wavered. “Yes.”

  Ike’s voice went up an octave. He hoped it indicated disbelief and not panic.

  “Then why the hell haven’t you made an arrest?”

  “We’re still gathering evidence,” Caine said. “When we make the arrest, we want to make certain it sticks.”

  Ike inhaled slowly. That felt like a threat, but he wasn’t about to take the bait.

  “So what’s the real reason you called me down here?”

  “We would like a DNA sample.”

  Ike frowned. “Come on, Caine. You’ve got my whole life on file, including the women I’ve fucked, so don’t play the innocent game with me. What do you really want?”

  “A confession.”

  Ike flinched. “You’re a son of a bitch.”

  Caine buzzed his secretary. “Send in the lab tech.”