Sins That Haunt

by Lucy Farago

  Shannon stood outside the kitchen. She’d heard Christian explain the day Wright had been shot and killed in Maggie’s house. It had caught her so ill prepared that by the time she’d tamped down the emotions brought back by the memory, she’d hesitated too long in the hall and curiosity had gotten the better of her. She’d smiled remembering how old man Dickinson had threatened to call the cops on her, but one small mention of Maggie’s father and he was apologizing to them. What surprised her most was the guys’ mention of love. She’d never realized men even said the L word in each other’s presence. Sex, blow jobs, and fast cars in who knew what order, but love?

  When they’d watched—or rather not watched—the sun rise, Noah had told her he was falling in love her. Now with hormones normal and afterglow gone, they were screwed. She’d made love to him with the understanding that sooner or later she was going to get her heart broken. And she didn’t care. Noah was worth the time and effort they’d inevitably put into making their relationship work, and regardless of that fact, she had accepted they were destined to lose. What she hadn’t considered was Noah himself. He too would get his heart stomped on, and it would be her fault all over again. Only this time it would be worse.

  Before they’d been kids who couldn’t really appreciate what they’d lost. Sure they felt it, but they hadn’t had the experience to understand what they’d truly found in each other. She couldn’t allow it to go on. And when he returned to his life in Tweedsmuir and had a few days to think about it, he’d thank her. Even if he’d been serious about moving to Vegas, she wouldn’t let him make that kind of sacrifice. She? She’d eat a tub of ice cream and tell herself it didn’t matter, just like she’d planned.

  She turned the corner and entered the kitchen. “Hello, boys.” She glanced down at their half-empty plates. “Hungry?”

  “You’re up?” Noah asked.

  She looked down at herself. “Well, unless I’ve discovered how to split myself in two and the other half of me is still in bed, I’d say your powers of observation are amazing.”

  Christian laughed. “Glad to see I’m not the only one you spit barbs at.”

  “Oh, but Christian,” she said silkily, “you will always be my favorite. Coffee?”

  “In the pot.” He motioned with his knife over his shoulder.

  “I’ll get it,” Noah offered and went to stand.

  “No, stay. Eat your meat. I can handle the coffeepot.” She poured herself a cup and took a seat beside Noah. “What, no potatoes?”

  “Too filling,” Christian said, finishing his last bite. “You okay with me using the gym?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “Thanks.” He stood and put his dish in the dishwasher.

  “No, I mean it.” She smirked. “Knock yourself out.”

  “Dang, Shannon, glad to know you’re feeling better.”

  “Don’t pretend you care,” she shouted at him as he left the kitchen, Christian’s laugh trailing behind him.

  “He likes you,” Noah said.

  “I know. I like him too. So what were you two talking about before I came in?” She needed a way to get into this.

  “Christian suggested we take a closer look at the women in your file. Considering how JJ was shot, he has a point. I’m going to grab a shower, then I’ll meet you in the den, say in fifteen minutes?”

  She should tell him no. The longer she put it off, the harder it would be on him. But instead she heard herself say “sure.” She could obliterate his heart after he’d showered.

  *

  By the time Noah returned, Shannon had printed out everything on the flash drive and was sitting at Maggie’s desk, the computer screen focused on the obituaries. She’d showered before going into the kitchen so all she’d had to do was throw on clothes. She’d chosen tan ankle-length crop pants and borrowed Maggie’s new orange top. For some reason she’d packed a tangerine-colored bra and she remembered the silky blouse Maggie had been so excited about buying. Too bad the little chickie wouldn’t get to wear it first.

  “What are you doing?” He set a large manila envelope beside the pitcher of water on the mahogany desk and came around to see what she was up to.

  She’d decided to eliminate the obvious. “Seeing who is still around to maybe want JJ dead. I’m starting with his cohorts. There are a lot fewer of them. Plus, if someone was out for revenge, why go after the file?”

  “Wow, won’t Christian be pissed that the two of you think alike?”

  “He’s already thought of this?” Screw Christian; she was pissed.

  Noah palmed the envelope and pulled it over.

  “What’s that?”

  “Names, addresses, obituaries of everyone you kept a record of. Monty already did his magic.” He slung his hip onto the desk.

  “Oh, that was easy.”

  “Out of the victims, twenty-five percent are dead. Most natural causes,” he quickly added with a hand on her shoulder. He knew her well enough to know she’d be worrying someone else had taken their own life. “Two died in car crashes, one in a plane, the rest old age. Considering JJ liked to target seniors, that high percentage was expected. Out of the remaining, ten percent are in homes for the elderly. There are a few under sixty-five, either working or retired. Monty is still collecting the details, but soon we’ll have a better idea if one of them would be out for JJ’s blood.”

  “But then why come after my file?” He looked so hot sitting on Maggie’s desk, she wanted to slip between his legs and nuzzle his neck. She didn’t of course, but oh, she wanted to.

  “I thought about that. We didn’t recover a file from JJ’s belongings. So unless he hid it somewhere or in the house in Tweedsmuir, whoever killed him might have taken it. While not likely, it’s possible they knew about you having the original. If it was a victim of his scams, they could have spotted their name in the file and are looking to erase it, to remove themselves from a suspects list. Like I said, it’s not the scenario I’m going for, but we can’t rule it out.”

  “All right. What else?” she asked, swiveling her chair from side to side, anything to keep her hands off him.

  “From the twenty-six names you had on JJ’s partners in crime, six are in jail, two dead, one disappeared ten years ago and was never heard from again. Killed, new identity, who knows, but if he fell off the radar, it’s doubtful JJ was able to find him. We’re still trying to find the rest, but we got lucky. Four are still in the Boston area. And those are the ones Boston PD is going for first.”

  “They know?” And had they agreed to keep her out of it?

  “I’m sharing what we find, under the condition you are in no way associated with it.”

  At that, she relaxed a little and leaned back into the leather chair. “So what do we do now?”

  “We do nothing. I sent a team over to JJ’s house. They’re going to go through it with a fine-tooth comb. Your father knew it was bugged and that he was being watched. When you met with him, the day he was killed, you gave him the file?”

  “Yes. He didn’t believe me so we set up a meeting.” God forbid he trust her.

  “Why didn’t you FedEx it to him?”

  “He insisted on a face-to-face.” The asshole. “He made it sound like he was being sentimental. He wanted to see me.” She’d wanted to puke. “I wasn’t buying it. I’d heard him use that kind of bull before and it was right before he made me pull a con.”

  “Okay, so backtrack. You told him about the file prior to seeing him?”

  “I even faxed him a page to show him I meant business.” She hadn’t wanted to, but neither had she wanted to see him.

  “Which one, do you remember?”

  “No, but my machine is programmed to send reports to my computer. I can check. It transmits copies.”

  “Your office computer?”

  “You want to go there now?”

  He glanced at his watch. “How about this afternoon? Damon and I have a meeting. I can’t be late for it.”

 
; “Santos?” It gave her the creeps just thinking about him.

  “No; he hooked us up with a banker.”

  “What do you need a banker for?”

  “We don’t.”

  “Ah, I see. He’s a crook too.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, good luck. I’ll go to my office by myself.” Whoever had been behind the accident had wanted the file. They now had the file.

  “I would tell you no, but you’d get your back up and go to spite me. So instead I’ll ask you to please not go alone. If you must go, ask Christian to tag along.”

  “Wow, aren’t you being reasonable?” she said, not expecting him to be so agreeable.

  “No, not reasonable; logical. You’ll do what you want no matter what. I’m asking that you remember someone deliberately crashed into you.”

  “Because they wanted the file. They have the file so there’d be no point in coming after me.”

  “Maybe, but why chance it?”

  “You present a good argument.” And he did. “Okay, I’ll ask that guy sitting outside of Maggie’s house pretending he belongs there to come with me, but then I’m sending him home. Happy?”

  “Blissfully. Can all our arguments be this civilized?”

  With her on one side of the country and him on the other, she didn’t see how they wouldn’t be—after their next and last argument. He might be willing to take the hit to his heart. She wasn’t. According to Damon, Noah had pined for her their first year of school, if not longer. And she didn’t want to be responsible for that—again.

  She feigned laughter. “Silly boy, that was no argument but simple negotiations. Believe me, you won’t win a fight with me that easily.” No one did. She was a good lawyer. Telling Noah that starting something was a bad idea wouldn’t be good enough. She’d have to prove it to him. Question was, how?

  *

  “Why are we going to Caesar’s?” Noah asked Damon.

  “Not my choice. Hyatt’s. He’s been dropping a bundle at the tables, courtesy of his friend and now ours.” Damon gave his keys to the valet, then together they walked inside.

  “Santos is paying his gambling debts? Why do I think there’s more to their friendship?” he said sarcastically.

  “That’s not all.”

  “Why, what did you find out?”

  “Hyatt racked up a large voucher four months ago. And I mean large. Someone paid it.”

  “How much?”

  “Fifty thousand.”

  So Mr. Hyatt had gambling issues. They walked through the lobby and into the casino, loud with tourists and clanging slot machines. “Was that someone Santos?” Noah said, already knowing the answer.

  “Yup.”

  The crowd was rowdier in the bowels of the casino so they waited until they came out the other end and into the Forum, a covered mall, where Noah continued. “Maybe that’s how they met. At a table, months ago.”

  Damon switched the briefcase he carried to his left hand as he held the door open for two women entering the casino. Typical Damon; he was completely oblivious to their flirtatious smiles. How was it he could ignore women flirting with him and yet he’d done it so flawlessly with Shannon?

  “You think we can get casino footage?”

  “We’ll have to pinpoint exactly when Santos was in town.”

  “We can check the airlines,” Damon said.

  “Then yeah, I’ll get one of the guys on it.”

  “Good. Hey, I forgot. How’s Shannon?”

  “She’s fine.” He’d replied a little too quickly, and yes, it would come back and smack him. One, two …

  “You slept with her, didn’t you?” Damon asked, stopping in front of the Fendi window.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Your nonchalance. Dead giveaway.”

  Somehow Damon always knew when he was bullshitting. “That’s stupid.”

  “I know, right?” He slapped Noah across his back. “But’s that you, buddy. So are you a couple now?”

  “None of your business.” Noah started walking.

  “So not a couple. That’s interesting. Did she turn down your offer to go steady? Or are you too chicken shit to give her the school ring?”

  “School ring? Were you up late watching TV Land again?”

  “Hey, I didn’t get to watch television when I was a kid, remember?”

  Yeah, he remembered. Damon’s parents had this thing about no television, no candy, nothing processed, and organic this, organic that. Which was fine, but a kid had to have his TV or at the very least an Xbox, something they also banned because of the violence. And yet Damon became a law officer and carried a gun. In fact, he was one of the best marksmen in their class. Something that hadn’t made his parents proud. “Okay, Richie, let’s focus on the case. Where are we meeting anyway?”

  “Carmine’s; it’s just around the corner.”

  “Do we have to pay for this?” Carmine’s wasn’t cheap.

  “Since we’re the ones asking for a loan, I’d say so.”

  “Great, you can tell Marsh.”

  “Why do I have to tell him?” Damon complained as they entered the Italian restaurant.

  “Because after he saw the bill from the Capital Grill, I had the pleasure of listening to him rant about budget cuts and spending. I put him on speaker to shower and when I came back he was still bitching me out.” He smiled at the hostess and gave her their fake names.

  Unlike their last dinner meeting on the country’s tab, Mr. Hyatt was ready and waiting for them. They introduced themselves, shaking hands, and while Damon went on about the fantastic menu and the rich food, Noah assessed their next target. By the gray hair, the wrinkles on his forehead, and the laugh lines when he smiled, he’d put him at around fifty. The abundant waistline said he had a sedentary lifestyle. A desk job and sitting at a craps table tended to do that. He liked his jewelry. One wedding band, two diamond pinky rings. His navy suit was expensive but not over the top. He was dressed to impress but not attract attention.

  “I understand you’re friends with Miguel Santos.”

  “Yes,” Noah said. “Have you known him long?”

  “No actually; we met about four months ago.”

  The man’s left eye twitched. He was lying.

  “At one of the casinos?” Damon asked.

  “No, through a mutual acquaintance. But he’s become one of the bank’s best clients so we like to make him happy. You were thinking of expanding your business. Luxury cars, I believe.”

  “We also provide used cars,” Noah said. “We have two dealerships already. One here and one in Los Angeles. Both have a used car division.”

  The waiter came by, but Noah and Damon stuck to soda water while Hyatt ordered a ten-year aged Scotch.

  “I hope you had a chance to read over our financials. If not, I brought a hard copy.” Damon reached for the briefcase he’d set on the spare chair.

  “Why don’t we talk business after lunch? I hear the veal saltimbocca is fantastic.”

  And expensive. Noah smiled.

  “Too heavy a lunch for me. I’ll just have a salad,” Damon explained, giving Noah a subtle but definite stink eye.

  Noah was tempted to order the veal just to piss him off, but he’d eaten a steak for breakfast and wasn’t that hungry to begin with.

  After lunch Hyatt kept everything business-like. “I did read over your records and they are impressive. A loan won’t be a problem. In fact, I brought the papers with me.” He reached down to the suitcase they hadn’t seen and he pulled out loan documents.

  A loan should have been a problem. On paper they were in debt up to their eyeballs. Noah took the application while Damon waited for the server to clear their dishes before placing his briefcase on the white linen–covered table.

  The tall backs of the booth afforded privacy so there was no fear of prying eyes. Damon opened the case, making sure, however, that Hyatt could see, and pulled out a pen before closing it again.

&nb
sp; “Wow,” Noah said, “this is service.”

  “We aim to please. If you’ll just sign where it’s marked, I’ll forward you a copy once I have it filed. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Now that you mention it,” Damon said. “We do have a deposit we need to make.”

  It wouldn’t fall to the chief financial officer to open new accounts. But if he were working for Santos, he would understand what they meant by deposit.

  “It’s not my usual department, but while I’m here,” he shrugged, “I’ll see to it that it gets deposited. I assume you want it separate from your loan account?”

  “Very separate.” Noah made certain to give him a pointed look. They’d played enough word games. “Mr. Santos was generous with his finder’s fee for the new car.”

  Damon slid the case over to Hyatt, who took it with a smile. “I understand.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The trip to and from Shannon’s office went off without a hitch. She sent a copy of the report log to her private email and made it back to Maggie’s without incident. Not that she’d expected anything to happen. Whoever wanted the file had it. Noah hadn’t returned so she was spending time on the computer going over those names when Maggie and Christian walked into the den.

  “What’s up?” At their somber expression, she went on high alert. “What’s wrong?” Was Noah hurt? Where? How? She stood and came around the desk. “Is it Noah?”

  “No. I got a call from Monty,” Christian said.

  “And?”

  “He found the school where she was enrolled,” Maggie added. “Actually both: the one she was in and the one JJ moved her to.”

  She managed to calm her heart down, but the rest of her stayed on edge. “Okay. As long as she’s safe and happy …” Christian’s expression didn’t read happy. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

  “Sorry; I don’t mean to. Your sister isn’t at the school. Either of the ones JJ enrolled her in.”

  “Then where is she?”

  “Nobody knows. They saw her at breakfast and didn’t realize until dinner that she was gone.”