The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

by Remington Kane

  Sophia smiled. “You are one horny bastard, do you know that?”

  “We have to do something between now and dinner.”

  “Most people call that lunch.”

  Tanner pushed her to lay back atop the bed. “I have other appetites.”

  Sara returned to her apartment building and found her sister waiting for her in the small lobby.

  “Why are you here, Jenny?”

  Jennifer greeted her with a hug. “I was worried about you, and since you wouldn’t return my calls, I came to see you.”

  “Have you talked to Jake?”

  “I did, he called me last night and said that you were drunk. Were you out all night?”

  “I stayed with a friend,” Sara said, and wondered for a moment if it was true. Was Johnny Rossetti a friend, or something more?

  “Okay, I just wanted to see you and know that you were all right, and Sara, baby, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings yesterday. But honey, I really am worried about you and so is Jake. I hope you know that we only did what we did out of concern and love.”

  Sara said nothing in return, and after a moment, Jennifer let loose a sigh.

  “I love you, Sara.”

  “I love you too, Jenny, but please, don’t interfere in my life. Yes, I have problems, but I’ll work them out on my own, okay?”

  Jennifer hugged her again. “I’m always available if you need me. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I do, and it goes both ways.”

  When they separated, Sara saw that her big sister’s eyes were moist.

  “We’ll have dinner again soon, okay?” Jennifer said.

  “Only if you leave the shrink out of it.”

  Jennifer smiled. “I promise, but I want us to stay close. I don’t see you as much as I’d like.”

  Sara softened her demeanor and smiled. “We’ll have dinner soon, I promise.”

  Another hug, a kiss on the cheek, and Jennifer was gone, leaving Sara with a feeling of loss.

  Until she joined the FBI, she had told Jenny about everything that had been happening in her life.

  Her big sister knew who had given Sara her first kiss, who she first loved and been loved by. She had kept no secrets to herself back then and a part of her ached to speak of the dark things to another person.

  To tell them of her pain, of her sorrow, and disclose the desire for vengeance that ate away at her night and day.

  But Jennifer would never understand such things, not on a gut level. She hadn’t seen the parts of life that Sara had while acting as an agent and dealing with human scum, and she hadn’t had anyone ripped away from her.

  Talking to her sister or a psychiatrist wouldn’t help, only action would. If it took all the days of her life, she would get revenge for the death of Brian Ames.

  Sara watched her sister climb into a cab and return to her normal life. She prayed that Jennifer would never know a tenth of the hatred that fueled her days.

  Frank Richards, the new target was Frank Richards, and to aid in taking him down, she would search for Al Trent.

  Sara took out her phone, placed a call, and heard it be answered after only ringing once.

  “What’s up, Sara?”

  “Hi Duke, have you found Al Trent?”

  “Not yet, but you know I will.”

  “Good, and let me know the moment you do.”

  Sara put her phone away while still thinking of Trent. He was either a dead end, or possibly the key to bringing Richards down.

  She sighed. Where are you, Trent?

  134

  Tick! Tick! Tick!

  Al Trent stood before a gnarled tree and thought about the night Madison’s mother died.

  He had never meant for her to smash into the tree. He had been planning to kill Jenna Richards in her home and make it look like a robbery that had gone bad, but when he approached her townhouse that night, he saw her get in her car and drive away.

  She ended up at a bar on Manhattan’s West Side, where several men plied her with drinks. She ultimately waved them all off, they weren’t her type. Jenna Richards liked her men young, and the younger the better.

  Trent knew what her type was, he had heard the rumors among his peers and believed at least one of the stories to be fact, because he had seen her with the boy and when they noticed him coming toward them, he saw her pull one of her hands out of the boy’s pants.

  That boy had been Madison’s boyfriend and prom date during her senior year in high school, yet someone else that Madison had chosen over him, despite his having asked to escort her to the prom first.

  Madison had idolized her mother, and who could blame her, since her mother was the only parent that gave a damn about her. Frank Richards didn’t have much time or concern for his wife or daughter, and Jenna Richards had tried to fill the lack of love her husband displayed by showering Madison with affection and praise.

  Trent joined Jenna Richards that last night of her life. He could still recall the delighted smile she displayed at having run into someone she knew.

  “Al, hi, is Madison here too? Oh, but what am I saying, she’d never go out with you.”

  He stiffened at those words, while also realizing that she was drunk. She must have been drinking at home, gathering courage to go out and pick up a man.

  “Mrs. Richards, why don’t you let me take you home?”

  “I don’t want to go home, too many bad memories.”

  “But I thought you just moved in there a few months ago… when you and Mr. Richards began having difficulties.”

  “Difficulties? You might say that, the old fool can’t get it up anymore without the help of a pill, and I’m still a young woman, aren’t I? Don’t you think I’m still young, Al?”

  “You’re very youthful, yes, but let’s leave here. I know a much better place.”

  Jenna Richards narrowed her eyes and looked at Trent over her martini glass. “I know what you’re up to, Al.”

  Trent cleared his throat before speaking. “Wha… what? I mean, excuse me?”

  Jenna leaned across the table. “You want to be with me, admit it.”

  “Um, yes, I want to be alone with you.”

  “See, and if I was really old you wouldn’t want me, so that proves it, forty isn’t old.”

  Trent stood and offered his hand. “Let’s go to your place.”

  But when they arrived there, they had to stop for a red light on the corner, and Trent caught sight of Madison entering her mother’s building.

  “Mrs. Richards?”

  “Call me, Jenna.”

  “All right. Jenna, have you ever seen my father’s cabin? It’s quite nice.”

  “Your father died, Al.”

  “Yes, but the cabin is still there, and I have a key. Why don’t we go there?”

  Jenna opened a small bottle and popped two pills into her mouth.

  “What was that?”

  “They help me to feel good.”

  Trent shook his head. Richards should have just let her be. She’d have likely overdosed or drank herself to death.

  He drove toward the cabin, which was on the outskirts of Tarrytown, New York, about thirty miles from the city.

  He had only ever traveled there by one route, and after having to detour because of road construction, he became lost.

  Jenna’s car had a GPS navigation system, but Trent didn’t know the address of the cabin offhand, only that it was at the end of a lane. He pulled to the side of the road and parked, to find a map on his phone, while hoping to see a familiar street name.

  “Why are we stopping? I’m not getting in the back seat... unless you ask me nice.”

  Jenna was high and horny. Trent considered taking her for a moment, but then remembered that it would leave behind DNA.

  When he couldn’t get a signal, he stepped out of the car to see if a different location would help.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m looking for a signal.”

  Jenna
giggled. “A smoke signal?”

  Trent ignored her as he saw a bar appear on his phone, but then it disappeared. He went a few feet farther and was rewarded with two bars.

  “Yes!”

  The car started behind him. When he looked back, Jenna was waving goodbye and laughing hysterically.

  “Come back!”

  She sped up, and that’s when the deer shot across the road. Jenna must have spotted it, because she swerved, left the road, and smashed the car into a gnarled tree.

  Trent stood frozen in place for a moment before rushing to the car. When he reached it, he found Jenna pinned behind the steering wheel, and saw that a jagged piece of metal had pierced her abdomen.

  She began to scream, as the shock of impact passed, and the pain began. The airbag had deployed, but it had apparently been punctured by the same piece of metal in Jenna’s stomach.

  She looked up at Trent with pleading eyes, as her voice escaped in a whisper.

  “Help me, Al.”

  Trent looked down at the phone still clutched in his hand and saw three bars, then he looked in at Jenna and saw that she had passed out.

  He stood there in the moonlight, listening to the drip of the vehicle’s leaking fluids, as the radiator hissed, and the car, although smashed, still made that little ticking sound that modern cars make after you turn them off.

  At the time, he thought that the sound was coming from the engine, but later learned that it was caused by the exhaust pipes, catalytic converter, and manifold cooling down. The metal made that ticking noise as it contracted.

  Whatever caused it, to Trent, on that night, it was as if he were hearing the last seconds of Jenna’s life ticking away.

  Tick! Tick! Tick!

  Precious seconds ticking away, seconds that became minutes, minutes that meant the difference between living and dying.

  And for the rest of his life, when Trent heard that sound, he would think of that night.

  Trent put his phone away, but then took it out and used it as a flashlight to check on the extent of Jenna’s injury.

  It was bad. Blood pooled on the seat between her legs. Trent knew that she would bleed to death without help.

  He left her there, just walked away and made it back to the city by train.

  Two days later, he was richly rewarded by Richards and became his assistant.

  Trent’s phone vibrated and broke him from his memories. It was Gary.

  “Get out of sight, there’s a car coming.”

  Trent jogged a short distance to a stand of trees and made cover just as the sound of the vehicle’s engine reached him.

  It wasn’t a car, but an old pickup truck. It must have been headed to one of the few homes that sat on the other side of the hill, where the road dead-ended.

  Trent watched it go past, then he walked back to the van.

  Gary pointed off to the west, where the sun was nearly obscured by clouds. “It’ll be sunset soon, are you sure that the girl will come here?” Gary asked.

  “I can’t be certain, no, but it’s a safe bet.”

  “Or a waste of time,” Gary said.

  Trent ignored his pessimism, but he was beginning to doubt as well, because it had occurred to him that Madison could be someplace so far away as to make the sentimental visit arduous, and thus, unlikely.

  He gave a slight shake of his head. No. Madison was sentimental enough to make the trip, despite difficulty, and she would mourn her mother’s loss, she would appear, he knew it. She had to, because if she didn’t, he knew of no other way to find her and that would seal his fate.

  Trent leaned back in his seat with a sigh and prayed that he was right.

  135

  Let’s Make A Deal

  Inside his Manhattan hospital room, Mario introduced his lawyer to the two FBI agents, Geary, and Garner.

  The lawyer’s name was Kearns. He was a dapper little man with bushy gray eyebrows.

  Geary was not pleased to see the lawyer.

  “Does this man’s presence mean that you’ve decided not to cooperate?”

  “No, it means I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that I know I’m screwed no matter what I do, so I will cooperate, yeah, but under certain terms.”

  Geary’s face reddened. “You don’t set the terms between us, you two-bit hoodlum, I do, or I can leave you alone and go after your daughter instead.”

  Mario smiled at her. There wasn’t a trace of warmth to it, but it was a smile, and it hid the intense hatred he felt toward her.

  “Hear me out; I think you’ll like it.”

  The lawyer, Kearns, spoke up. “I tried to dissuade my client from his course of action but was ignored. So, I’m here to make sure that if we come to an agreement, it will be honored.”

  “I feel better knowing that a mob shyster doesn’t like the deal,” Geary said, and Kearns looked indignant.

  “I am not a ‘mob shyster’ as you put it, Agent Geary. I’m a reputable lawyer with decades of experience.”

  “Whatever,” Geary said, as she took a seat. “Let’s hear the deal.”

  “It’s simple,” Mario said. “I’ll show you where Lars Gruber and Tanner are buried, then you leave my daughter be and destroy any evidence against her.”

  Geary looked up at Garner, who was still standing. Dead or not, Lars Gruber was a prize. Uncovering his body would raise their status within the Bureau. Tanner, while not the international fugitive that Gruber was, would also be a nice feather in their caps.

  Geary looked back at Mario. “We’re agreeable, but understand something, you can’t just hand over these bodies and walk away. You still have to give us those above you, such as Johnny Rossetti. If you don’t, we’ll make sure the right people know that you led us to the corpses. Once that happens, you’ll be at the mercy of your so-called friends.”

  “I get that, all I care about is getting my daughter out from under the pile of shit you heaped on top of her.”

  “That happens as soon as we recover the bodies. How far away are they?”

  “Not far, but not too close either. I’ll tell you once we have a solid deal.”

  Geary made a face. “Please tell me that they’re not in water. God, how I hate a corpse in water.”

  “They were covered in bleach, but they’re in the ground,” Mario said.

  “We’ll go tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s good; the doctor told me I can leave then.”

  They spoke a little longer, mostly to Mario’s lawyer, as they set about solidifying the terms of the deal. Afterwards, as they walked toward the elevator, Geary asked Garner what was wrong with him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You hardly said a word in there, and if we return tomorrow with Gruber and Tanner, we’ll have hit the jackpot.”

  “I just wish we had done it another way, other than using his daughter. The girl is an innocent.”

  “Fuck her innocence, she was a tool, and I’ll use anybody to take these bastards down.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s simple. Johnny Rossetti is a media darling, anything to do with him will be front-page news. It’s great publicity, an excellent way to get your name in front of the public.”

  They reached the elevator and Garner hit the call button.

  “Now I see it, you want to get into politics.”

  “You’re damn right, that’s where the power and the money is. It wasn’t all that long ago we had a mayor in this city who made his name going after the Mafia, and today he’s spoken of as presidential material and worth tens of millions.”

  Garner laughed just as the doors opened and three people got off, leaving the elevator car empty for them to step onto.

  “What was that laugh about?” Geary said.

  “Nothing, it’s just that someday I’d love to have a partner who simply wants to do the job and not be committed to some personal agenda.”

  “Everybody wa
nts something, Jake, even you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve already had everything I wanted and lost it.”

  Geary shrugged. “Then you should go about trying to get it back.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Garner stared at her and as he opened his mouth to speak again, the elevator chimed. After clearing his throat, he and Geary stepped from the car into a clutch of people waiting to get on.

  “Jake, what were you going to say?”

  “Forget it. I’ll meet you at the office early and we’ll get back here and collect Mr. Petrocelli.”

  “That’s good, and come tomorrow, everyone in the Bureau will know my name.”

  Garner was looking forward to recovering Tanner’s body as well. He hoped that once it was established that the man was truly dead, it would give Sara some measure of peace.

  136

  Dasvidaniya

  Vance settled into the chair in front of Johnny’s desk at the strip club, then asked a question.

  “How would you like to crash the leadership meeting tomorrow?”

  “I thought that was just for Dons and corporate honchos like Richards. Since my demotion, I don’t qualify.”

  “True, but would you like to be there? If so, I can arrange it.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s easy; I liked what you put in that last envelope and want more.”

  “No, I mean what’s the real reason?”

  Vance furrowed his brow in confusion. “I don’t get you.”

  Johnny slid a folder across the desk. “You’re well-hidden enough that the cops came up empty, but we have federal connections too. What’s your story, Robert Vance? Or should I use your real name, the one you were born with in Russia, Rurik Varanov.”

  Vance’s calm demeanor slipped away as his eyes narrowed in anger. When he opened the file, he saw that there was a brief sketch of his life, including the fact that he had been in Russia’s Federal Security Service, an organization formerly known as the KGB.