Enemies and Playmates

by Darcia Helle

  Jesse sighed. “Look, I told you I won’t do what you’re asking with the murder case. Under no circumstance would I ever do it. And as for tailing your wife, that would definitely be awkward. But, regardless of Lauren, that’s just not my thing. None of this has anything to do with Lauren.”

  Alex leaned forward. “It does now.”

  “This should be between the two of us. No one else.”

  “Forget Kara,” Alex said. “I’ll deal with my wife in other ways. However, the other task is not up for debate. You will complete the job or I will put an abrupt halt to your career.”

  “I don’t give in to threats.”

  “I don’t make threats, Mr. Ryder. I make only promises.”

  Jesse stood. “I won’t do it. I got out of law enforcement because I wouldn’t play the games and bend the rules to win. I’m certainly not about to start doing it for you.”

  Alex snorted. “Do us both a favor and get off your moral high horse.”

  “Christ, you want me to mess with evidence so that your client can walk free,” Jesse said. “Your client is a cold-blooded killer. What makes you think he won’t do it again?”

  “I don’t care whether he does it again,” Alex said. “I care about winning.” Alex pushed his chair back and rose. He leaned forward, pressed his hands against his desk and glared at Jesse. “My client is an important man. He takes care of me and I do the same for him. That’s how it works, Mr. Ryder. I’m surprised you haven’t learned that by now.”

  “That’s how it works in your world,” Jesse said. “And that’s why I refuse to live or work in your world.”

  “You’re willing to give up your career and my daughter over your virtuous code of ethics?”

  “I don’t plan on giving up either.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Jesse glared back at Alex. He was deeper than he cared to be with this man. He’d known Covington’s reputation when he’d taken that first job. The job had been minor. He’d thought he could handle it. And he had. He just hadn’t counted on things escalating so quickly.

  Alex drummed his fingers on the desk. His face showed controlled anger. He said, “You could have gone far with us. Walk away now and you will lose all you’ve worked for.”

  Jesse turned and strode to the door. “Don’t be so sure,” he said. He walked out before giving in to the urge to pound Covington’s face into the polished wood.

  Jesse had spent the past half hour taking out his frustrations on the weight bench at the gym. His arms throbbing, he slammed the bar against the bench as if Alex Covington’s head lay between them.

  Would it be any easier had he not gotten involved with Lauren? Less complicated, yes. But he’d still be backed against a wall. How the hell had that happened?

  “Bad day?” Tim asked.

  Jesse glanced at the next bench, where his best friend since childhood was working out. “You could say that,” he replied.

  “Work?”

  “Yes and no.” Jesse stood and stretched his back. “Remember I told you I’d been doing some work for Alex Covington?”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Well you were right. I never should have done it.”

  “What happened?”

  Jesse grabbed his towel and wiped sweat from his forehead. He said, “Well, it was simple at first. He had me doing research for a few cases. A few personal things for him but nothing that was a big deal. The money was great. No problems.” Jesse sighed. “Then the other day he called me to his office for a private meeting.”

  “To praise your outstanding work ethics?” Tim asked.

  “Kind of started out that way,” Jesse said. “His opener was to tell me how good my work was and how far I could go with the law firm.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “You got that right.”

  Jesse glanced around to make sure no one was in ear shot. He dropped his voice and said, “I had impressed Covington so much that my next job was to dig up dirt on some guy he’s trying to frame. For murder. And after I’d dug up what I could, I was to manufacture and plant the rest of what was needed.”

  “Nice.” Tim dropped his weights and sat up. “He either really hates this guy or he’s protecting someone important.”

  “Both. His client, the murder suspect, is way up there on the political ladder. And the guy he wants to frame happens to be suing one of Covington’s clients. A surgeon. Malpractice case.”

  Tim gave a low whistle. “Covington’s got balls, eh?”

  “Sure does.”

  “I take it you refused.” Tim said.

  “Of course.”

  “And now you know too much. You’ve become a liability.”

  “You got it,” Jesse said. “And that’s not all of it.”

  “How much worse can it get?”

  “The other night, remember I mentioned I had a date with a girl I’d just met.”

  Tim nodded. “Yeah...”

  “She’s Covington’s daughter.”

  “Jesus, he used his daughter to set you up?”

  “No,” Jesse replied. “Covington had nothing to do with it. But I really like this girl.”

  “And?”

  “And Covington’s threatening to make problems. With her and with my business.”

  “So what now?”

  “I’ve got some ideas.” Jesse swiped a chunk of damp hair from his forehead. “I might need your help.”

  “Anytime. You know that.”

  “I’m going to look into a few things this afternoon. I’ll give you a call later.”

  The office Jesse rented was on Park Drive in the Back Bay of Boston. When he arrived, his secretary was sitting at her desk typing. Jesse greeted her with a smile. “Hey Dawn,” he said. “How are you today?”

  “Great,” Dawn replied, returning the smile. “How about you?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  Jesse picked up his mail from her desk. While sifting through it, he said, “You can ignore me if I get cranky.”

  “Sure thing,” Dawn said. “I left a couple of phone messages on your desk.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jesse went into his office and plopped down on the leather chair behind his desk. He picked up his messages and read through them. Nothing from Lauren. Not that he’d expected there to be. They were supposed to see each other this weekend. Christ, it was only Monday. Friday was a long way off.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he so obsessed with this woman? Sure, she was beautiful. But it wasn’t like he’d never dated a beautiful woman before. And yes she was funny and smart and a wonderful diversion from the airheads he’d been dating recently.

  Just a diversion, right? So what if being close to her turned him on more than he’d ever thought possible.

  Damn.

  What was he going to do about Covington? More importantly, what was he going to do about Lauren?

  “This is just great,” he muttered. Of all the women for him to fall apart over, it had to be Alex Covington’s daughter. What the hell was he thinking?

  Dawn tapped on the door, then poked her head inside. “Someone’s here to see you.”

  “Who?”

  Dawn stepped inside. She scrunched her face up like she’d sucked a sour lemon. “He wouldn’t tell me his name,” she said quietly. “And he’s giving me the creeps.”

  “Send him in,” Jesse said. “May as well keep this day going on that steady downward spiral.”

  “Good luck,” Dawn said.

  She left the room and seconds later his doorway was filled with what could have been a character from a bad horror movie. His massive arms were solid muscle. A soft fleshy stomach that he probably filled with beer and rare steak pressed against the confines of designer t-shirt. His eyebrows were dark angry streaks over lopsided eyes. He looked as if an earthquake had passed through his face and shifted one eye socket lower than the other.

  The mismatc
hed eyes quickly appraised Jesse. Then the guy said, “You Jesse Ryder?”

  Jesse stood but knew better than to extend his hand to shake. Everything about this guy was off. He said, “I am.”

  “I have a message for you.”

  Jesse focused on the thin scar that covered the length of the man’s left cheek. He said, “From who?”

  “Mr. Covington would like you to reconsider his offer.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  The man smiled, revealing a broken front tooth. Even the smile was crooked. It was like one side of his face was sliding off. Definitely horror movie material. The guy tossed a photo face down onto Jesse’s desk, then turned and strode out the door.

  Jesse waited until the guy walked past Dawn’s desk and let himself out the outer door. Then he picked up the photo, turned it over, and winced. The clothing told him that the person had been male. One hand had no fingers. The other had been crushed flat. The face was not recognizable as human.

  Jesse was ushered through the high gates of Walpole’s maximum-security prison. The guard brought him to a small room with one scratched metal table, two equally scarred metal chairs, and no windows. The guard said, “I’ll be right out in the hall.” Then he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  Jesse sat on one metal chair, which was bolted to the floor, and waited. Five minutes later the back door to the room opened. A second guard nodded to him as he ushered his prisoner inside. Chris Nyles, a tall lean man who showed each of his thirty-two years, plopped into the opposite chair and glared at Jesse. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

  The guard secured Nyles’ cuffs, then stepped out into the hall. Jesse said, “My name’s Jesse Ryder. I’m a private investigator.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” Nyles grumbled.

  “I’m not here about your case.”

  “Then what the hell do you want?”

  Jesse leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He said, “I understand you and Danny Bellows were good friends.”

  “So what if we were?”

  “I’m interested in how he died.”

  “They say suicide.”

  “I know what they say,” Jesse said. “But I don’t believe he killed himself. Do you?”

  Nyles shifted in his seat, pulled at his cuffs. “I wouldn’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t there.”

  “But you know what he was involved in prior to his death.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I want to nail Alex Covington.”

  Nyles snickered. “And what makes you think I can help you with that?”

  “I know Bellows worked for Covington,” Jesse said. “Intimidation stuff with certain clients, some tampering with evidence.”

  Nyles shrugged. Jesse leaned back. He let the silence surround them. Then he said, “He did real well until it came to a certain hit. He screwed that up.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “He’d become a liability,” Jesse said. “Covington had him disposed of.”

  “And what if he did? What the hell has all this got to do with me?”

  “Nothing,” Jesse said. “Except that Danny Bellows was your best friend. And you might like revenge.”

  “And what do you get?”

  “The same.”

  Nyles was silent a moment. “How’d you get your info?”

  Jesse shook his head. “Confidential. But it wasn’t all that hard.”

  “So what if I help you? That means I’d be next to disappear.”

  “Looks like you might be next anyway,” Jesse said. “You apparently screwed up, too. Only you got caught before Covington got to you.”

  Nyles’ Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His eyes were like those of a feral cat. He said, “I want some things in return.”

  “For instance?”

  “I’ve got a lot of shit from my past working against me here,” Nyles said. “This charge is going to send me over the edge.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “Get them to cut me a good deal. I want out of this place. Somewhere out of Covington’s reach. Then maybe we’ll talk.”

  “No maybes.”

  “Okay, let’s say I can give you what you’re looking for. But you don’t get a thing till I get what I want.”

  Jesse nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  5

  Alex tapped his Bulgari pen against his desk. He scowled at his visitor as he spoke. “Enlighten me please. What is it again that I am paying you for?”

  Dominic Forenzi stretched his muscular legs out in front of him. He stared across the desk at Alex, his expression as blank as always. “I told you I’ll get it done,” he said. “It’s just taking longer than I expected.”

  Alex sighed. “And that message I asked you to deliver?”

  “Done.”

  “It’s comforting to know that my money is not entirely wasted on you, Forenzi.”

  Dominic pulled a battered pack of Marlboros from his pocket. Catching Alex’s glare, he was reminded of the no smoking rule. He stuffed the pack back in his pocket. “Ryder doesn’t strike me as the type to scare that easily,” he said.

  “Precisely the reason he was initially hired,” Alex said. “However, I was not fully aware of his overly idealistic tendencies.”

  “How long you giving him?”

  Alex swiveled his chair to the side. The view out the wall of windows behind his desk soothed his nerves. He owned a large piece of the city below. He wanted to own it all. “We need to persuade Ryder to see things my way,” he said. “His skills could be vital to this organization. A few of our lesser skilled employees have caused problems recently. They are simply not competent. And, of course, you know what losing Martin has done to this firm. We have yet to find an adequate replacement. I like Ryder’s ability. His confidence. I’d prefer not to lose him.”

  “He’s got a lot of cop friends,” Dominic said.

  “I appreciate your observation.” Alex swiveled his chair back to face Dominic. “Your point being?”

  “Don’t you think he’s gonna tell these cop friends what’s going on? Something happens to him, he mysteriously disappears, and there’ll be cops crawling down our throats.”

  Alex kept his voice calm despite his growing irritation. “A point which I have already taken into consideration. As long as you maintain a reasonable level of intelligence in your behavior, we remain untouchable. If things work out the way I intend, his cop friends, as you put it, will soon be our friends as well. One of the many perks in having Ryder on our team.”

  Alex leaned forward. He stared into Dominic’s drooping eye. “Just remember, if you inadvertently give Ryder or anyone associated with him ammunition against me, you will live only long enough to regret that misstep.”

  Dominic Forenzi fidgeted with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He said, “I won’t make any mistakes.”

  “You have work to do,” Alex said by way of dismissal. “Send Suzanne in on your way out.”

  Seconds later Suzanne stepped into the office. She’d recently had her hair dyed an even paler blonde than usual. Her shiny lips protruded with collagen. The expertly applied makeup gave her face a flawless appearance. She did a good job of fighting her age but Alex knew better. She no longer held the same sexual allure.

  “You wanted to see me?” Suzanne asked.

  “Close the door behind you,” Alex said.

  Suzanne closed the door softly, then stepped further into the office. She stood with perfect posture, staring at a spot just beyond Alex’s left ear. She rarely met his eyes. Hadn’t for years now.

  Alex rose, unhurried, silent. He leaned against his desk and simply gazed at Suzanne for a few minutes before speaking. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” he finally asked.

  Suzanne looked at him with an expression somewhere between confusion and fear. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a simple enough question.”

  “Y
es, it is.” Suzanne crossed her arms in front of her, hugging herself. “I don’t believe there’s anything I need to tell you.”

  Alex nodded. “I see.”

  He waited, letting the silence stretch. A minute passed. Maybe two. Then he said, “I received a phone call last evening. An inquiry.”

  Suzanne’s expression slowly changed from confusion to comprehension. She backed up a few inches. Alex smiled as he said, “Are you still sure there’s nothing you’d like to tell me?”

  Suzanne shook her head. “I… I’m not sure…”

  Alex crossed the room in four purposeful strides. He grabbed a handful of Suzanne’s bleached hair, yanking her head up and back so that she was forced to look him in the eye. He said, “Does the name Maxwell O’Connor mean anything to you?”

  “Alex, please…”

  “How many other firms have you sent your resume to, Suzanne?”

  Alex let go of her hair, touched her shoulder, then allowed his hand to slip down to her breast and linger there. He traced the outline of the lace bra she wore beneath the silk blouse. His voice, tight with anger, was in total contrast with his soft touch. “How do you think it made me feel to hear from O’Connor that my personal secretary had expressed a desire to move to his firm? Do you think I enjoyed the amusement in his voice when he realized that I had no idea you were taking steps to seek new employment?”

  Alex slipped his hand beneath Suzanne’s blouse, cupping a lace-covered breast in his hand. He got a sexual charge from her trembling. He wanted her to remember whom she belonged to. Who she would always belong to.

  “You know I hate surprises,” Alex murmured. He stepped back, removed his smoke-gray suit jacket. He carefully laid it over one of the leather visitors chairs. Then he walked to the windows and stared out at the city. Silence hung in the room, thick and palpable. He could feel her fear.

  Still with his back to her, he said, “I’m disappointed. I thought I could trust you.”

  “I’m sorry…” Suzanne’s voice died away with a suppressed sob.

  “Are you unhappy here?”