by Darcia Helle
He should have killed Covington long ago.
Now the bastard was out on bail. No prison walls, no guards. But also nothing to protect him. Jesse could disassemble Covington like a jigsaw puzzle in reverse, one piece at a time. Slow, one finger, one toe. Let him scream. Let him know true agony.
But he’d promised Lauren.
He could hire someone else to do it. Then technically he wouldn’t be breaking his promise. But, damn, he wanted the pleasure of doing it himself. He wanted to feel Covington’s life drain away. Up close. Personal.
Maybe he could watch?
Maybe he could just break the damn promise.
“Are you even listening?” Tim asked. “You do something stupid and you’ll be hurting Lauren even more than she’s already hurt. She needs you with her now. You won’t do her any good from a prison cell.”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “I know.”
“You’re not convincing me.”
“Hell Tim, they let him out. He put a hit out on his own wife and daughter and the son of a bitch is walking free.”
“I know. They need proof. Give them time.”
“How much time? Enough to get the hit done right?”
“Covington can’t be that stupid. He’s got to back off now.”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “You might’ve thought that when they locked him up. Didn’t stop him, though, did it? He was sitting in prison when that attack went down. Best alibi a guy could hope for.”
Tim sighed. He said nothing. Just gave Jesse that look that said he knew there was no use arguing.
“Hell, maybe you’re right,” Jesse said. “Maybe Covington will take his millions and the coward’s way out. Live it up in style on some remote island. Order the hit from his fucking beach house. Never get his hands dirty. No one will even know where he is.”
“You’re going to make yourself crazy,” Tim said. “Let the cops handle it.”
Jesse slammed his fist against the wall. “Cops like Captain Barnes whose strings are pulled by Covington? C’mon, I can’t depend on the system to handle this. Look how well that’s gone so far.”
“And you can’t go all vigilante, especially while everyone is under a damn microscope, including you. You know damn well they’ll be looking for any possible excuse to put you away. Covington would love nothing more than to see you rot in prison for his crimes.”
Jesse swiped a hand through his hair. He didn’t like that Tim was right. “Did he make bail before he heard about the attack?” Jesse said.
“Yeah,” Tim said. “Before Eldridge knew about it, anyway. I’m not real sure of the exact sequence.”
“So there’s a chance he’ll be brought back in. Charged for this.”
“Like I said, give them a little time.”
“I’ve got to get to him first,” Jesse said. “Knowing Covington, he’s at his office, plotting. Cops have his office and house covered?”
“I’m not positive but I’d say they must. Jesse, you need to stay the hell out of this.”
“Okay, so the office is out.” Jesse went on speaking, almost to himself. “Unless I can get him from a distance. Or somewhere in between…”
“Christ, Jesse.” Tim’s voice grew hushed. “Do you hear yourself? Get a grip. You can’t pick this guy off like you’re out target shooting.”
“You might be surprised at what I can do.”
Tim shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t be surprised at all. But think, man. You can’t do it and get away with it.”
“Is Forenzi making bail?”
Tim stared at Jesse for a long moment. “What are you thinking?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just tell me.”
“Go back to the hospital, Jess. Don’t fuck with this.”
“Answer me, please.” Jesse’s voice was suddenly eerily calm. “Don’t make me inquire elsewhere. I’d rather not leave any sort of impression.”
Tim’s expression registered defeat. “I heard talk about an hour ago that a friend of his was working on bail for him. Forenzi no longer wants Eldridge’s deal. Says he won’t talk, won’t testify. Recanted what he’d said earlier.”
“Who’s the friend?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?”
“I can try.”
“And let me know if you hear anything more on Covington,” Jesse said. “Call me.”
“I don’t like this one bit.”
“I hear you. But Lauren is everything to me. It’s like she holds that piece that makes me complete.” Jesse blinked back the tears that he still refused to shed. “Damn, that sounds ridiculously sappy. But, hell, what would you do if you were in my shoes?”
Tim met Jesse’s eyes, nodded. “I’d kill the prick. Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Jesse drove slowly through the parking lot of Covington Law. He spotted an unmarked cop car by the front entrance. Another was parked around the rear. Then he drove past Covington’s home. A van sat across the street. Empty, or at least that’s what they wanted people to believe.
Late night would probably be best. Darkness hid the details.
First he had to find Forenzi. Drag his sorry ass along. Double murder? Murder-suicide? Damn details. He needed a definite plan. Something simple. Quick. His mind went to work while he drove back to the hospital.
Jesse sat in his car in the hospital parking lot. He’d been there for several minutes, enjoying the silence while trying to untangle his jumbled thoughts. A man about his age crossed the lot, one small child in his arms and another clutching his hand. How did you go from creating a life to destroying it? What did Alex Covington feel when he looked at his daughter? When he thought of his son? How could he so easily sacrifice both?
Jesse’s cell phone rang, startling him from his reverie. Tim spared the small talk and got straight to the point. “Forenzi’s refusing bail.”
“Interesting. Who wants to post?”
“A guy by the name of Jay Wendell came in. Long time friends, from what I heard. But Forenzi said no way. Said he’s happy with his current accommodations and isn’t ready to leave.”
“He knows he’s a dead man,” Jesse said.
“Or he really likes prison food.”
“He still refusing to talk?”
“Yeah,” Tim replied. “Claims the shit he said before was lies. That the cops coerced him or some such bullshit.”
“Makes no sense. Why would he stop talking if he knows he’s dead regardless?”
“Doesn’t want to go down a snitch. Or he’s clinging to that shred of hope that Covington will leave him alone.”
“What have you guys got on him? Solid stuff, aside from my statement and the stuff I gave Eldridge.”
“Hell, I don’t have all the facts,” Tim said. “I’m not part of the investigation. I’ve been asking too many questions as it is.”
“Your best guess.”
“The weapons charge. I don’t know whether his place was searched. A lot of what they’ve got is circumstantial. I’d say most of what they have comes from you.”
“What about Covington?” Jesse said. “Any word on new charges?”
“Nothing. I heard they gave him a tail. They can’t connect him to the attempted hit. Lots of speculation about what Kestler was doing at the condo. Since the place didn’t belong to either victim… I mean… hell, you know what I mean. Since it didn’t belong to Lauren or her mother, the investigation is moving toward the dude. What’s his name? Wilkes I think. Marc Wilkes.”
“They think he was the intended target?”
“So it seems.”
“Idiots,” Jesse muttered.
“What are you planning?” Tim said.
“Nothing.”
“Yeah. And next you’ll tell me you believe in Santa Claus.”
“The Easter Bunny, too.” Jesse climbed out of his car and headed toward the hospital entrance. He said. “Thanks for your help.”
“Be careful,” Tim said. “Even you
are not invincible.”
Jesse stopped outside the door to Lauren’s room. Exhaustion played tug of war with his anger, leaving little room for the sadness and guilt he’d been wallowing in. So far he was doing a decent job of controlling the swell of emotions. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last before the seams burst and his head exploded.
Inside the room, Lauren lay beneath the crisp white sheets. An IV dripped down the narrow tube into her left arm. The streak of blood had been wiped from her cheek. Her eyes were open and clear and she smiled when she saw him. He tried to smile back but the corners of his mouth only twitched in response.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” Lauren said. “How about you? You look exhausted.”
Jesse ignored the question as he sat beside Lauren on the bed. “Your mom’s doing well,” he said.
“My nurse just told me. There was a lot of damage but the surgeon is pretty confident that she’ll make a full recovery.”
“That’s great.”
“So much blood.” Lauren shook her head and tears sprang to her eyes. “I thought she was dead.”
Jesse had a sudden flash of what the scene must have looked like. Images Lauren would have forever, courtesy of her father. His hand tightened into a fist by his side. His stomach rolled and he tasted the threat of vomit.
“I wish I could see her,” Lauren said.
“I know,” Jesse said. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Or you could sneak me in now.”
“Sneak you into ICU?”
“Isn’t being sneaky part of your job?”
Jesse would have laughed but Lauren’s expression told him she was serious. He wasn’t about to sneak Lauren anywhere at the moment and he damn sure didn’t want to try. Thankfully his cell phone rang, giving him a temporary reprieve from the issue.
He smiled at Lauren when he heard the voice on the other end. “Hold on a sec,” he said. Then to Lauren, “It’s Carrie. This is the third time she’s called to check on you. Are you up to talking?”
Lauren hesitated. “I think so. Yeah.”
Jesse started to hand Lauren the phone, realizing immediately how stupid that was. Her bandaged hands made gripping a cell phone pretty much impossible. He rested the phone against her ear and propped her pillow to hold it in place.
Lauren spoke into the phone, quickly assuring Carrie that she was fine. Jesse walked to the window. His back to Lauren, he stared down at the parking lot. How different would things be if he’d stepped off his high horse and done the job for Covington?
Jesse shook his head. While his nagging guilt happily held him responsible, deep down he knew better. One job would have led to two, then three. Each would have gotten him in deeper until Covington owned him like his collection of Armani suits.
And as for the attack, that had been directed at Kara. Lauren had most likely been a victim of circumstance. Wrong place, wrong time. Seemed to be a running theme in their lives these days.
Alex Covington had been a walking time bomb. Eventually something would have set him off, regardless of what Jesse did or didn’t do.
This was the logic Jesse tried to grasp. Still, guilt turned his stomach into a churning, boiling pit and rage stole the air from his lungs.
“Jesse?”
Lauren’s voice filtered in through the haze that surrounded him. He turned, noticing for the first time the flowers sitting on the bedside table. Three arrangements. He normally picked up the details of a room immediately upon entering. His mind was definitely not focused. Which could become a huge problem for him. He needed to pull himself together.
“I’m done with the phone,” Lauren said.
Jesse took it from her ear and switched it off. Then he gently wiped tears from her cheeks. “You doing okay?” he said.
Lauren nodded. She held him with her heart-melting eyes. “Did you learn anything?” she asked. “Have the police found any evidence that my father hired… that man?”
“Not yet,” Jesse said. “They’re working on it.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“What are you working on?”
“Nothing,” Jesse said. “I’m just doing what I can to help.”
Lauren gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him. But she chose not to pursue the argument. “The police were here while you were gone,” she said. “Two detectives. They took my statement.”
“I’m sorry. I should have been here with you.”
“No, it’s fine. They were really nice. It wasn’t horrible.”
Jesse swallowed back another stab of guilt. He seemed to be swimming in it.
“I’m going to have scars,” Lauren said.
Jesse nodded. “I know.”
“My hands. My arms. They’ll be the worst.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I know it’s silly,” Lauren said. “But I feel like the scars will be constant reminders. Like my father branded me or something.”
“That’s not silly.”
“My mom and I would both be dead if that guy had a gun instead of the knife.”
“I know,” Jesse said. “I’ve thought of that.” Constantly. He made himself sick thinking about it.
“Why do you think that was?”
Jesse shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
“Maybe my father requested the knife. It’s slower and more painful.”
“Lauren, don’t do this to yourself.”
“You were attacked with a knife.”
“That guy ran,” Jesse said. “I got out of it easy.”
“Was it the same guy?”
Jesse looked away. He watched the IV drip down the tube. “I don’t know,” he said. “The knife that guy dropped was conveniently misplaced. Never got tested for prints.”
They were both silent for a moment. The last thing Lauren needed right now was to worry about the investigation. Or her father. Jesse offered the best smile he could muster. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
The words had no sooner fallen from his mouth when Alex Covington stepped into the room. He wore a midnight blue suit with a paisley tie over a crisp pale blue shirt. His face was clean-shaven and his haircut fresh. He looked ready for a formal evening out. He did not look like a distraught father visiting his daughter at the hospital.
Lauren’s jaw dropped. She stared, slowly shaking her head back and forth. Jesse reached Alex in two quick strides. He couldn’t make contact because he wouldn’t be able to stop himself until the bastard was dead. That couldn’t happen. Not here. Not now.
Instead Jesse positioned himself between Alex and Lauren, effectively blocking their view of each other. Through clenched teeth, he said, “You’d better get the hell out of here fast.”
“How could you?” Lauren said. “How could you do this?”
Alex attempted to step around Jesse but Jesse blocked each move. He jammed his knotted fists into his pockets. “Don’t go another step closer,” he said.
A nurse took a tentative step into the room. “Is everything okay in here?” she asked.
Jesse’s muscles twitched as he fought to control his rage. Alex cleared his throat and smiled at the nurse like he was doing a photo shoot. He said, “I am here to visit my daughter.”
“I want him out,” Lauren told the nurse. Her voice broke into a sob. “I don’t want him near me.”
The nurse turned a shade of pink. She gave Alex an apologetic look. “You’d better go now, sir.”
Alex gave a curt nod. His eyes found Jesse. He glared for a moment, then turned and left without another word.
Alex strode through the hospital, well aware of the sideways glances that followed him. He’d been on the news and his photo had made both daily papers. Now his own daughter had caused a scene and all but tossed him out of her hospital room. Consequently, he had quickly become an object of curiosity, an unlikely villain.
Alex had underestimated Ryder’s h
old on Lauren. The man had her believing her own father was some kind of demon. And that simply would not do. He needed her under his control. That meant changing the story she’d come to believe.
Alex held on to his calm façade as he crossed the parking lot. Rage simmered beneath the surface but all people saw was an impeccably dressed man with steel blue eyes. He climbed into his Mercedes and eased out of the parking lot with a calculated show of self-control.
Fifteen minutes later he was at Captain James Barnes’ front door. Anna Barnes greeted Alex with a tight smile. “Come in,” she said. “How are you, Alex? I’m so sorry about Kara and Lauren. James tells me they should both make a full recovery.”
Alex ignored Anna’s placating remarks. “I need to speak to James about an urgent private matter,” he said.
Anna’s lips tightened into a thin line. “He’s in the den.”
Alex strode past Anna and her accusatory glare. She and Kara had been reasonably good friends for many years, which likely explained the underlying frigidity in her words. People watched the news, read the paper, believed the gossip. Guilty verdict handed down by the media. He’d used it to his advantage many times in his career. Soon he would be using it again, in reverse, to redeem himself.
Alex rapped once on the closed door to the den. Without waiting for a response, he pushed it open and stepped inside. James was seated behind his oversized mahogany desk. He glanced up. Seeing Alex, he put his coffee mug and newspaper down. “Hello Alex,” he said. “What brings you here?”
Alex closed the door behind him. He sank into a padded leather chair. “I have a way to clear my name,” he said. “I will require your cooperation.”
James nodded. The lines around his eyes had deepened. He looked tired, worn. He said, “I’ve been doing my best to steer the investigation away from you. It isn’t easy. As you know, the evidence, however circumstantial, isn’t weighing well for you. Particularly since Kara had recently left you and taken out a restraining order.”
Alex waved James off. He didn’t need to be reminded. He’d made his living by manipulating what people thought of as absolute. He said, “I want Alison Robbins charged for contracting the attempted murder on Kara.”