He took a sip of whiskey. “Nothing at all, lass. In fact, I no longer owe him a favor.” Patrick pulled the markers from his pocket. “And neither do you. That picture wiped both our slates clean. Why don’t you burn these things?”
Andi glanced at the two pieces of paper. Ten years ago, she’d had no idea the significance of signing that paper or what McHugh could demand in return. It only sunk in after Thomas was dead and Hannah had explained the hold McHugh had on Patrick and his bar. “Do you really think he can catch the Cobra?”
“Aye, if she’s still here, he’ll find her. I only hope he does it fast. Otherwise, Palano may well come back and lock me up.”
Andi picked up the dirty coffee cups and carried them toward the kitchen. “It’s late. You should head home. I’m going to clean up the mess we made then head to bed. Tomorrow is a work day, and I need to find a way to get in touch with TK. Gambini is missing, and I owe him one, so we need to find him if we can.”
Patrick glanced out the front window. “I think we’ve got company.”
Andi crossed the room to stand beside him. “The large one in the driver’s seat is Coilin O’Conner, and I suspect the other one is either Liam or Finn.” She headed for the front door. “I told Shamus I can take care of myself. I’m going to kill that little shit.”
“Nah, lass, leave them be. You may not need the protection, but Shamus needs to feel like he’s helping you.” Patrick shrugged. “And maybe I’ll get some sleep after all. My plan was to camp out in one of the booths.”
“What is it with you Irish guys? Jerry knows I can take care of myself. He’s not worried, so I don’t see why the rest of you are.”
Patrick laughed softly. “Guess you didn’t see the car parked at the liquor store on the corner.”
Andi went back to the window and peered out before heading for the door that led to her room. “Go home, Patrick, and tell Jerry I said to go home too.” She picked up the shotgun on her way upstairs. “Otherwise, I might just be tempted to shoot him.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The trip to the mayor’s house had been too quick for Cherese to bring her rage under control, and in minutes of her arrival she felt it surging again.
“Boss says to clean it up.”
Cherese glanced at the man speaking then stared down at the bullet-riddled body of Thaddeus Morgan, her nose crinkling at the disgusting smell of feces. “You can’t just clean something like this up, dumbass. He’s the mayor, and if I remember correctly, there’s a council meeting this morning that he’s supposed to attend.”
His back went rigid, and Cherese felt her muscles tense as he opened his mouth and sealed his fate. “Listen, bitch, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you watch your mouth when you’re speaking to me.”
She gave him her sweetest smile. “Sorry, it’s been a tense night. Where’s the gun used to shoot him?”
He walked across the room and opened a drawer. “You should probably get rid of it.”
“Just leave it there. You don’t want your fingerprints on it. Go into the bathroom and bring me a towel.” Cherese pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket, slipped them on, and smiled at him. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time.”
She waited until he left the room, took the Glock from her waistband, and screwed on the silencer. It wouldn’t be the perfect scene, and a criminologist would see the flaws, but sometimes she just had to get creative and do the best she could with what fate had dumped in her lap.
He walked in, his eyes bulging when he saw the gun.
“Put the towel down next to his head.”
He obeyed, his face paling. “What are you doing?”
Cherese pulled the trigger four times. The first three were for show, and the last one a kill shot straight to the heart. Retrieving the towel, she wiped the gun clean, removed the silencer, and placed it in Morgan’s hand. She wrapped his cold fingers around the hilt and placed one on the trigger. Her lips curved in a smile as she placed her finger over his and pulled the trigger. A little gunshot residue for the forensic experts. Now for the jerk. She took the gun from the drawer and wiped it clean before repeating her actions with her most recent victim’s hand around the gun. “You wanted to know what I was doing. Well, now you know. I’m cleaning it up.”
Cherese neatly folded the towel then placed it on the bathroom rail. She didn’t know for sure who had killed Morgan, but since he was on her list it really didn’t matter. She had more important things to do. She chuckled again as she let herself out the front door, leaving it slightly ajar. She’d love to be a fly on the wall when the drunken bitch woke up and walked into her husband’s office.
Sleep or Gambini? She was still angry. Another few hours of sleep, a shower, and a hot breakfast should flush the last of the rage from her system, and the longer Gambini had to worry, the more fun it would be to torture him. She wanted to enjoy every minute of those hours.
~ ~ ~
The sound of sirens blaring woke Andi from a sound sleep just before her cell phone rang and a loud pounding issued from the downstairs door. She’d expected all hell to break loose when the paper hit the streets this morning, but it was only five a.m., and most people wouldn’t even see the article for another hour or so.
The phone continued to shrill, and she reached for it as she climbed out of bed. “Hello.”
“Open the damn front door.”
“Jeez, Palano, you could at least say good morning.” Andi ended the call and pulled on a pair of sweats and t-shirt. Whatever was going on, Jerry was pissed off already, which wasn’t good, since she hadn’t had her first cup of coffee. Skipping down the stairs, she flipped on the restaurant light and unlocked the door. “We’re not open yet.”
“Funny, Carter.” Jerry pushed past her and did a quick walk-through of the bar and kitchen, coming back to stare at her still standing by the door. “Get dressed. I’ve got a murder scene, and I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”
Andi pointed across the street to where Coilin O’Conner and his brother were still camped out. They waved, and she waved back. “I’m not exactly alone.” She closed the door then crossed to the bar to start a pot of coffee. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not human until I’ve had at least one pot of coffee. Who was murdered?”
“The mayor and Councilman Eaves.”
Her hands began to shake as she poured in the water. “It wasn’t….” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. She’d wanted to believe TK was just an innocent teenager on the run.
“It wasn’t your girl. From first reports, they killed each other.”
Relief flooded through her, and she flipped the switch on the pot then headed for the stairs. “Go on to the scene. I’ll call Shamus and get dressed. We’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll wait.” Jerry parked himself on a stool, watching the coffee drip.
“Your concern is touching, Palano, but it’s too late for that. I don’t want or need your protection. When you stalked out of here yesterday, you should have just kept going.” She glared at him, hands on her hips.
He glanced at her and smiled. It wasn’t a normal smile, but that slow, sexy smile that always drove her insane. “Eventually, we’ll talk about that. Right now, you’re wasting time. Keep it up, and Tribune will scoop the story before you get your pants on.”
Andi stomped up the stairs and slammed the door at the top, not that it made her feel any better. What she really wanted to do was jump up and down and scream like a little girl. God, I hate that man. Thankful she’d taken a shower the night before, she dressed quickly, brushed her teeth, applied a light touch of makeup, and ran a brush through her hair. The mayor’s wife knew who she was and that she was a reporter. She didn’t have a clue what Jerry thought he was doing. You don’t just take the press to a murder scene. She picked up her purse and headed down the stairs. I’ve got an opportunity to get the inside story, so why the hell am I so angry? She stopped in the middle of the stairs and closed her
eyes, a deep, aching pain starting in her belly as the answer to her question flashed through her mind. Because as soon as this case is over, he’ll leave again.
The thought sobered her, and the ride to the mayor’s house was quiet, except for the occasional slurp of coffee. Jerry parked behind the ME’s van and ran a hand through his hair. “Go ahead and say it. You want me to sit in the car and wait for you.”
“Not part of my plan. I could use your help with the wife. She’s the one who found the bodies. Hard to believe she slept through nine shots.”
“You think she had something to do with this?” Andi glanced at the two-story house as a body was being carried down the steps. “Maybe she was lucky she was asleep.”
“Passed out is more like it. The position of the bodies was off. Hard to shoot dead-on unless you’re facing each other.”
“Wait a minute, you’ve already been here?”
He nodded. “Left Officer Cooper and the ME to do their job while I came to pick you up.”
“What did she say when you questioned her, and what exactly are you expecting me to do?”
“I haven’t questioned her yet. You’ve got good instincts. I want you to watch, and if you think I’m not asking the right questions, pass me a note.”
She swallowed hard. It was how they’d started their relationship, by questioning witnesses and feeding off each other for things one of them missed. I can’t do this again. I just can’t.
“Are you in?”
Damn you, Jerry Palano. You’re going to break my heart all over again. Andi reached for the door handle. “Yeah, I’m in.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Andi heard the wails of grief before she and Jerry even made it through the front door. Divina was really putting on a show for the crowd gathered around her. “How do you want to do this?”
“I’ll have to get everyone out of the room or find someplace private we can talk.”
“Don’t blame me if she throws a shit fit when she sees me. She’s not a fan of mine.”
Jerry made his way through the group of concerned neighbors and friends and into the formal living room, with Andi close on his heels. He pulled out his badge and flashed it. “Detective Jerry Palano. I need a word alone with Mrs. Morgan, please.”
“Can’t this wait, Detective?” A tall, gray-haired man rose from where he’d been kneeling in front of Divina. “The poor woman is in shock.”
“I understand your concern, Doctor.”
The guy had the courtesy to blush and lower his head. “I’m not a doctor, just a friend of Divina’s.”
Jerry waited until he raised his head and met his gaze. “Then perhaps you should stick around. Someone killed her husband, and I may need to talk to you later.”
The room cleared, and Andi closed the door behind the last one.
Divina Morgan removed the handkerchief and waved it at Andi. “What is she doing here?”
“Miss Carter is here at my request, Mrs. Morgan. As you can imagine, this is a very sensitive matter, and it’s important that it’s reported accurately by the press. Of all the reporters I know, she’s the only one I trust to do that.”
“Get on with it then.”
Andi took a seat in the armchair across from Divina and pulled out a notepad. The wailing and the tears had disappeared with the crowd. “I’m only going to take notes, Mrs. Morgan. Once my article is written, you can view it before it’s printed if you want.”
Jerry pulled up a chair. “Why don’t you just start by telling me everything you can remember about last night, Mrs. Morgan.”
“There’s not much to tell.” She lifted a shoulder, allowing her robe to fall open. “Excuse me.” She clutched it together, not the least bit embarrassed that she wore nothing underneath. “It was a normal night. We had dinner, then Winston—Councilman Eaves—called and said he wanted to go over a few things about today’s council meeting.”
“What time was this?”
Divina waved the handkerchief about. “Eight, maybe nine. I’m not really sure. I wasn’t feeling well, and all that council talk bores me to death so I went to bed.”
“Did Councilman Eaves arrive before you went to bed, or after?”
“I heard the doorbell ring as I was going upstairs. I assume that was Winston arriving.”
“So you didn’t see him?”
Divina shook her head. “No, I took a couple of sleeping pills and retired, Detective Palano.”
Jerry changed his tactics. “Was Mr. Morgan upset about anything lately?”
“Nothing more than usual. Thaddeus was a very conscientious man. He loved his city and his people.”
Andi covered her mouth and coughed to disguise the snort that had escaped her lips before she could stop it. Thaddeus Morgan was a power-hungry, woman-beating bastard, and Divina knows that.
“Did he mention any issues with Councilman Eaves? Anything they disagreed on?”
“The councilmen are always in disagreement, Detective, which is why their discussions are so boring.”
Jerry sat back in his chair, and Andi could see the wheels turning as he readied himself for a question designed to shake up the witness.
“Your husband was shot four times, Mrs. Morgan, and Mr. Eaves, five. That signifies both anger and passion to kill. It would be rare for two men to square off on each other like that without some big issue between them. Are you sure you’re not leaving something out?”
Andi held her breath, carefully studying Divina’s face and body. The woman was a true actress, and her body stiffened for only a second, her eyes darting around the room before she recovered. The handkerchief came up, and the wails started again. “Oh, my poor, poor Thaddeus.”
Jerry didn’t fall for her act or let up. “Your poor husband is dead, Mrs. Morgan. So what is it you’re not telling me?”
She lowered the handkerchief and sniffled. “Thaddeus was such a gentle man, so kind and giving. Some people just took advantage of that. There was this woman, she came to Thaddeus last week and spoke to him about Winston and Gambini. I don’t know the full story, but I think it had something to do with these young girls on the street.”
Andi sat up straighter and shot a glance at Jerry.
“And then there was that prostitute that just wouldn’t leave him alone. Why, she even followed him to a restaurant yesterday and tried to make him buy her lunch.”
“Did you catch a name, or can you describe the woman that came to see him?”
“She was a pretty blonde. Thaddeus ushered her into his office without introducing us. Please, Detective, I’d like to lie down now.”
Andi pulled out her cell and located the picture of the Cobra. “Is this the woman who came to see your husband, Mrs. Morgan?”
She looked at the picture, nodded, and immediately started wailing again. “She said she was a friend of Jared’s.”
“And the prostitute?” Jerry asked. “What did she look like?”
“You can ask the manager at Lucques. When Thaddeus walked out on her, she had the nerve to have the manager call me to pay her bill. Such a nasty woman.”
“I just have one more question, Mrs. Morgan, and then you can go. Do you know where your husband picked up the Glock he used?”
“Thaddeus hated guns. Refused to have one in the house.” She wailed again, rocking back and forth.
Jerry stood and signaled for Andi to do the same. “Thank you, Mrs. Morgan. You have our deepest sympathy for your loss and my assurance that I’ll find whoever or whatever was behind this.”
Andi followed him from the room, the hate radiating from Divina’s eyes causing her to shudder as she closed the door behind them.
“I need to have a word with Frank. Would you care to wait for me in the car?”
“Give me the keys.” She knew it wasn’t personal. The witness interview was one thing, although a bit out of the norm, but having her present when he talked to the ME could result in a reprimand.
The sun was starting to rise
as she made her way to the car. She leaned against the passenger door to watch the rays slowly appear and wash across the sky. She could have left and started a new life somewhere else with a decent journal or newspaper, yet every time she watched the sun rise or set, it restored a little of the hope she’d had when she first arrived. With Shamus’s help, she could turn the Daily Drudge into a decent paper that people wanted to read. They could report real news, not just the Hollywood fluff and gossip Sinclair had printed since his father’s disappearance.
A slight throbbing started over her right eye. Frustration had her clenching her hands at her sides. She didn’t need a doctor to know what was causing the headaches. Every time she thought about the past or tried to remember the weeks before her torture, the pain was excruciating. Taking a deep breath, she forced her thoughts back to the case at hand. It was apparent to her that Divina Morgan was lying. She doubted any prostitute would chase Morgan. She’d have to stop and talk with Jasmine. Maybe she’d heard something about it, and she might even have some information on Gambini’s whereabouts.
“You ready to go?”
Tossing Jerry the keys, she nodded. “I need to go in and talk to Sinclair. I’m surprised he’s not here, since Divina is his sister. There’s a story here, but it’s not ready to be printed yet.”
Jerry unlocked the doors and opened hers for her. “What exactly are you going to write about this?”
“Death of Mayor and Councilman Eaves under investigation.”
“That’s all?”
She clicked her seatbelt and stared out the window. “At the moment, that’s all we’ve got. Anything else is speculation, and one thing I hate more than anything is having to retract an earlier story.”
He laughed. “What did you think of Divina?”
She turned toward him. “I think she’s evil, and I think she killed her husband.”
“What about Councilman Eaves?”
“Think about it. If you’d killed your husband or wife and needed a patsy to blame it on, what better way than to call a friend, kill them too, and then set up the scene to make it look like they killed each other?”
The 13th Victim Page 16