All the Hidden Sins

by Marian Lanouette

  Joe had big plans for himself in the organization. This little deed moved him up faster in the organization without him dirtying his own hands. A win-win situation. He’d let Kyra believe his boss was associated with the casino, but it wasn’t true. Yes, indeed, Kyra was going to be an asset to his career. About to turn and head back into the casino, he saw the elevator doors open. Joe watched as she rushed toward him.

  “Sorry I’m late, Joe,” she said.

  “I was ready to give up on you.”

  Kyra held up a hand to catch her breath. “Heavy traffic slowed me down.”

  “Not a problem. Are you hungry?”

  “I want to get this over with. We can eat later.”

  “I’d rather eat first. Afterward, we’re going to meet my boss.”

  “Oh—I didn’t know—you never said I had to meet him.” She bit her lip.

  “What’s your decision?”

  “I can’t—no, I won’t do your Whale, though you already knew that.”

  * * * *

  Jake continued to wade through all the information he’d dug up on Kyra and Tom while Louie was out picking up Wallace for questioning. Until their petition for divorce, news on the couple was nonexistent except for a dismissed case of sexual harassment against Tom. Everything he read pertained to the parents and what candidates they supported. Or who they socialized with. The second thing he found on Tom Russell was an article about his promotion last year. Promotion, ha. He worked for his father’s firm. Did it count when your father promoted you? Jake wondered.

  Brigh sat on the couch with him as he tried to dig out information on the dismissed case. Jake spread the printouts of old newspapers across his coffee table, scanning them for any tidbits that might help Kyra. He found what he was looking for in the Wilkesbury Daily News three weeks later. The article stated the case had been settled out of court and all charges had been dropped. Hmmm. A place to start. Why wasn’t Kyra using that case against Tom in the divorce?

  He’d find a way to bring it up tomorrow. Make it look like he ran across the article in the papers. The last thing he wanted to do was shut Kyra down. It might be interesting to take her to the casino and watch how she played. For the little insight he’d gain into her personality was it fair to dangle her addiction in front of her? No, it’s cruel.

  * * * *

  Joe’s nerves relaxed as he exhaled. She looked nervous, but not out of control, which surprised him. In the last couple of days she’d aged. Her decision wore on her. But what was it? She walked with a slouch, also something new. Joe’s six-year-old popped into his head, and his heart started to open to her, to her child. He slammed the door shut. He’d gone too far to go back now. Remember your rule, Joe, don’t get involved. She did it to herself.

  “It’s seven thirty now. We’re not expected before nine. Let’s head upstairs.” Joe took her by the arm and led her to the special elevator for the Whales.

  “I’m not hungry. I’ve been sick all day.”

  “What’s wrong?” He looked her over.

  “I fortified my decision with vodka last night. Do I have to meet him tonight?”

  “You’re also a drinker?” he asked.

  “I’m not,” she snipped.

  “Even stupider. Food and a Bloody Mary will make your head better.” He hoped—needed her presentable when he introduced her to Phil.

  During dinner he kept his eyes on her. Somewhere around dessert her color came back. He didn’t want anything to ruin this night. It didn’t bother him that this brought him deeper into the organization. He hated his casino job, though he understood it was a stepping stone to his real vision. Joe planned on retiring early. After watching all these gamblers take and take, then demand more—it was his time to take now.

  Kyra had been quiet as they ate. It wasn’t because of the hangover either. Her demeanor shouted defeat. Joe didn’t want any surprises when they went to Phil’s. He’d told Phil he’d explain everything she needed to know to her. This way he’d be protected. But Phil insisted on meeting her, thus sealing her fate. Joe understood deep down it wasn’t going to be a one-time deal. He’d locked Kyra to Phil for the rest of her life. Once again, he shoved down his conscience, and looked toward his future. He watched her push away her plate. He signaled for the check as he checked his watch.

  * * * *

  Jake stayed behind the glass as Louie questioned Danny Wallace. Danny admitted being with Kolinski, but had nothing to do with his death. Jake listened in as Louie continued his questioning for another half hour.

  “I hear you’re working for the mob now,” Louie said.

  “Me, no way, man,” Wallace said. His eyes roamed the room.

  “Did your competitor kill him?”

  “Who’s that?” Wallace tapped his fingers on the table.

  “Spike.”

  “Never heard the name before.” Jake saw the lie.

  “Nervous, Danny?” Louie asked. “You should be—right now Spike might be hunting for you.”

  “I’m not on his radar.” Wallace clamped his mouth shut when he realized he’d said too much.

  “Didn’t you just say you hadn’t heard the name before?”

  Wallace scrubbed both hands over his face, “I did. Man, you’re trying to connect me to the mob. I’m small potatoes here. I make a little money and stay clean.”

  “Yeah, real clean, hooking young kids on the junk. You’re a real humanitarian, Danny boy,” Louie said, disgust in every word. “If it was Spike or the mob who did the hit, you might be next, Danny. I’d mull that over. And when you do, you’ll understand I’m your only friend.”

  “Yeah, like I’d trust a cop.” Wallace stood. “Are we done here?”

  “For now, but I got you in my sights. If I was you, I’d keep looking over your shoulder,” Louie said as he packed up his notes. Wallace left.

  “Nothing. He hadn’t a clue who Kolinski was meeting after him,” Louie said to Jake as he came into the room.

  “Yeah, I heard. What’s next?”

  “Lucky me, I get to find all his junkie friends and question them.”

  Jake smiled. “Well, you can do my paperwork and I’ll track down the people.”

  “No way. Have fun,” Louie said as he walked away whistling.

  Jake worked until well after eight reviewing his detectives’ progress on their cases. It still bewildered him, the pile of paper the job produced. With a clear desk, he’d be able to give his attention to his own case load first thing tomorrow. Louie had left around six. Something to do with an event going on at school with one of the kids. Jake often attended, but he’d begged off this time. He loved Louie’s kids like his own but this time he didn’t want to go.

  Louie and his family slammed into him reminding Jake he no longer had one of his own. His sister Eva’s murder destroyed his family seventeen years ago. His mother was wasting away in the nursing home, his father dead. Last month with Mia he had something special. Something permanent. But she’d dashed his hopes. Could he ever forgive her for the cruel way she’d delivered that message?

  He hadn’t intended to go anywhere after leaving the station but Jake drove straight to Kyra’s condo. On his way he called and got voicemail. Jake sat in his car, read the case file on the missing man while he waited. After a half hour, he realized his stupidity. Desperate wasn’t endearing. Should he head home or to the bar? No, not tonight. Jake pulled the car out of the lot and headed home.

  * * * *

  Joe drove up in front of a lavish mansion. He pushed a button on the post connected to the security gate. A guard approached and checked out the car, including the trunk and undercarriage. The lawn—was something this big even called a lawn, with its gentle hills—rolled and butted against the house. The place had to have ten thousand square feet of living space. A limo waited in front with a uniformed driver standing
at attention beside it. The overhead lights glinted off his gun. Many more guards spread out over the grounds and she assumed they were armed too. Lord, please tell me I’m getting out of this alive.

  Joe stood beside her, waves of nerves rolling off him. Kyra had never seen him this way. For all his posturing, it seemed Joe was a peon here too. The guard nodded to both of them, then stepped back as he invited them into the foyer.

  “Stay here. I’ll announce you,” he commanded.

  “What have you gotten me into?”

  “Nothing yet,” he whispered.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Joe. You’re the one who threw me under the bus. I’ll do the Whale.” She smirked as her words and their implications landed.

  “You can’t change your mind now. I already gave him your answer.” He spit the words at her.

  “No you didn’t. You’re as afraid of him as I am. Good.” When the guard came back, she turned her back on Joe.

  “Right this way.”

  The man led them down a long, tiled hallway covered in oriental rugs and original artwork. He opened a set of pocket doors and ushered them into a well-appointed office. A large, masculine, dark cherry desk stood as the focal point of the room. A floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk looked out onto the lake. It showcased the owner’s power. It said, I’m king and I’m dangerous. Don’t waste my time. A six-foot marble statue stood in the corner—a toga-draped Roman woman pouring water from a pitcher. The couches and chairs were covered in soft, supple, beige leather. The walls were a dark tan, and the red rugs pulled the whole room together. Nouveau Riche. The owner made sure all who entered knew it. Even with the glitz, it was the man behind the desk who captured her attention. He had jet-black hair, beady black eyes, and a prominent hawk-like nose in a narrow face. The face wasn’t handsome as it was interesting. He looked ferocious.

  “Ms. Russell, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” As he stood to take her hand, she hoped she hid the surprise. He was the same height as her—small for a man, five feet four inches.

  “I’m sorry we haven’t been introduced.” Her eyes never left his face.

  “I’m Phil.”

  She tried to remove her hand from his, but he tightened his hold. Icicles flowed through her blood.

  “What a surprise you are. Leave us, all of you,” he commanded.

  “Mr.—” Joe tried to speak.

  “I said leave, including you, Angelo. We’ll be fine here, won’t we, Ms. Russell?”

  “I…guess,” Kyra said, watching everyone else scurry from the room. I’m the sacrificial virgin being offered up to the gods.

  “Ms. Russell. May I call you Kyra?”

  “Yes.”

  “A surprise you are, Kyra, both in beauty and intelligence.”

  They watched each other, assessing. “Why intelligence?”

  Laughing, he answered. “Because you hold your tongue and observe. Not many women—no, that’s not true—not many people are smart enough to keep quiet and listen. Do you understand why you’re here?” He stared into her eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered, turning from his piercing gaze.

  He let go of her hand, offered her a seat. “Please sit. Help yourself, Maria outdid herself.”

  “No, thank you, I’m not hungry.” She took the single chair by the couch. His laughter poked at her nerves. What the hell is amusing him?

  “I like polite. Are you afraid I’ll sit too close to you?”

  Small talk and flirting, not what she’d been expecting. “No.”

  “Honesty. I like that too.”

  He sat in the chair opposite her. His eyes searched her face. Kyra adjusted her position and waited, back straight, hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered.

  The silence filled the room. She understood he’d talk when he was ready. A smart man. He waited too. Intimidation seemed to be his game and he played it well. Hell, it worked. He wasn’t going to lay his cards on the table until he made a decision about her. Hoping he got to it sooner, rather than later, Kyra reined in her temper. It took all her control to do it.

  “Your color’s brightened. Are you hot?”

  “No.”

  “Are you annoyed?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?

  “Yes.”

  “Did I do something to make you mad?”

  “No, I’m nervous. I understand what you want from me. I don’t have a choice. I’d like to get to the how and when,” Kyra answered.

  * * * *

  Carl Stack packed up his briefcase to leave for the night when his desk phone rang. He grabbed it up. “Detective Stack here?”

  “It’s Eddie Johnson from dispatch, Carl. I have a Mrs. Church on the phone. She asked for Lieutenant Carrington. Isn’t it your file?”

  “It is. Send her over to me.” Carl steamed at the nerve of Jake butting into his cases. He picked up the receiver once Eddie transferred the call over.

  “Detective Stack here?”

  “Oh, Detective, I wanted to speak with Lieutenant Carrington.”

  “He’s not available at the moment, Mrs. Church. How can I help you?”

  The woman hemmed and hawed before she spoke again. “I need to tell the lieutenant something.”

  “When did you last speak with him?” Carl wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Yesterday, why?”

  “No reason. What do you need to tell him?”

  The bastard’s gone over my head and is interviewing people on my case. What’s got his panties in a twist? Carl took three antacids from the roll on his desk and popped them into his mouth. He had a good thing going here and he’d be damned if Carrington was going to ruin it.

  “I was embarrassed to tell the lieutenant that my son told me if I didn’t give him the money, the mob would kill him. God forgive me. I believed he was playing me again.”

  Freak, it’s worse than I imagined. “I’ll pass that on to the lieutenant, Mrs. Church. We’ll do everything in our power to find your son.” Lucci had already paid him to turn a blind eye on this one. That ‘gung-ho asshole Carrington’ wasn’t what he needed right now. One more year and he’d be able to retire to a nice tropical island with his cash and live like a king. If he kept his head down and stayed out of Carrington’s way he’d make it to his goal.

  * * * *

  “I can see you’re nervous, but you and I haven’t spoken about anything. How do you know what I want? Are you a mind reader?” He watched her stare at the floor.

  “No.”

  “Look at me, Kyra.” He waited until she raised her eyes to his. “Nobody, Kyra, knows what or why I do anything, it’s how I’ve succeeded in life. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s difficult to have a conversation with you if you’re only going to give one-syllable answers.”

  Her eyes had drawn his attention from the moment she entered the room. Damn, they were mesmerizing. How had she wound up here?

  “I’m sorry. This is a first for me.” She shrugged.

  He pressed a button on his desk. Moments later a maid walked in. “Yes, sir?”

  “Bring a pot of coffee with some Danish.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  They sat in silence until the maid came back with the coffee. Phil moved around the room, trying to decide if he’d use her. In the thick of things, he couldn’t care less about a tool. And make no mistake, she was a tool, but there was something about this one he wanted to get to know. But business is business. He cleared his mind, studied her some more. No matter how hard she tried to hide her nerves, they showed, along with her unhappiness. Her movements were jerky while her gaze scanned the room like a cornered animal. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?
”

  * * * *

  While he wasn’t directly involved in Louie’s investigation, he kept a close watch on it. Something about it niggled at him. Still trying to pull the thread from his mind, he got slammed back in time as it betrayed him. Jake’s last case with its similarities to his sister Eva’s was never far from his consciousness. The horror of it never left him. Shanna Wagner, a young girl, had been killed, thrown away like garbage because a man’s ego refused to handle her rejection.

  A cruel reminder he hadn’t heard back on the results of the DNA test George Spaulding had taken a few weeks ago. Not that he needed one. Every chance he got, Jake studied Eva’s file. He wanted to be prepared for the parole board when the time came. Inside his head, he understood murder. Though never far from his mind he wished in his heart…no use going there. In his sanctuary, his home, he philosophized, though it got him nowhere. From the beginning of time, man had killed man for his needs, wants and greed. Who was he to question the grand plan?

  The Missing Persons’ case files sat on the coffee table. Jake grabbed the top one, the Church file. He’d need to speak with Stack soon. And won’t that be fun. He started reading it then closed it. He snatched up his phone and hit redial. Again it went to voicemail. What was Kyra up to tonight? Gambling? Dating? Reconciling with her ex? Like he had the right to ask these questions or even wonder. How stupid was he to get involved with an almost-divorced woman? Jake closed his phone. The Missing Persons file needed his attention, not his libido.

  * * * *

  Carl checked to make sure Carrington was in homicide and not headed down to Missing Persons. He grabbed several Missing Person forms off his desk and started to fill them in with bogus names and interviews. He’d fix Jake and make him out to be a fool. If Carrington couldn’t find the people, he’d tell him he caught them at a floating crap game. He wanted evidence, he’d give it to him. His last lieutenant had never reviewed their files. It’s a pity Caulfield had chosen to retire. Why of all the damn lieutenants in the department had they picked Carrington to run MP?