All the Hidden Sins

by Marian Lanouette

  Jake ignored him and read him his rights. “Do you understand your rights, Mr. Lucci?”

  “What am I, an idiot? Of course I understand. But you don’t understand anything, and you’re going down Carrington. And you don’t even get the girl. What a shame.”

  Jake leaned down, placed himself in front of Phil then he tweaked Phil’s broken nose. Phil let out a blood-curdling scream. Jake waved away Newtown when he rushed into the office to see what had happened.

  “He’s looking for sympathy, Newton, don’t pay any attention to him.” Turning back to Phil, Jake whispered in his ear, “She never told me a thing. You got sloppy with Stack.”

  If it wasn’t for the loss of Kyra, Jake might’ve enjoyed Phil’s expression as his words landed. The shocked look on Phil’s face alone was priceless. Phil continued to rant. Jake refused to be baited. He pushed Phil out of the way and searched the desk.

  Jake turned to a uniform and said, “Put him in my car. I don’t want him in with his men. I want Electronics in here next. Make sure all the computers, phones, answering machines, and cell phones are confiscated.” Jake’s eye caught Newton, who stood off in the corner.

  Jake called out to Epstein.

  “Lieutenant?”

  “Stew, I want you to search specifically for records of jobs that Lucci or Rainford ordered. I want names of known associates, to begin with. And I need that fast, before word of the raid gets out.”

  “Can do,” Epstein said, walking over to Phil’s computer.

  “Thanks. I’ll be here for another half hour, then I’m transporting the prisoner.”

  Jake’s cell phone rang. Looking down at the number, he pressed ignore. He’d need to call Mia later.

  “Jake, I already looked at this computer and it’s clean. None of the files are password coded. It doesn’t make any sense.” Newton pulled on his ear.

  “The one in the other office seems to be the operational one. All of those files are password coded. Epstein’s good. He’ll break the codes,” Jake said, sure of his guy.

  Chapter 39

  Jake pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Louie. “What have you got there?”

  “I’ve got an empty house. It looks like it was picked clean. The electronics guy, Todd Sweeney, said there’s a virus uploaded in the computers here.”

  “Rainford was smarter than Lucci.”

  “Looks that way. How’d he know, Jake?”

  “I don’t know. When did they leave?”

  “Last night. The next-door neighbor said Rainford told him his mother was ill and they’d be gone for about a week.”

  “Bring everything in anyway. I’m sure Electronics can pull something off of those computers.”

  “Jake, I heard—”

  He cut off Louie. “Later.” He didn’t want to deal with Kyra’s death right now. Jake walked out to his car. “Give me a few minutes, Officer.”

  He stood in front of Lucci. It was his turn to bait Phil. “Looks like Angelo and his family have done a vanishing act. He left you to take the heat.” Jake smirked.

  “Back the hell off. I have nothing to say to you until I see my lawyer. I’m filing police brutality charges against you.” Lucci turned his head away from Jake.

  “If that’s the way you want to play it, Phil. It’s your word against mine. I can tweak that nose anytime I want until I put you in the car where the cameras will capture everything.” Jake grinned at Phil and nodded to the officer to put Lucci into the car. Jake returned to the house to update Newton.

  “I’ll put out a BOLO for Rainford and his family and notify Homeland Security,” Newton said.

  “Great, but we’re a day late. He’s out of the country by now.”

  “I agree, but it has to be done.”

  Newton grabbed his cell. Issued his orders. Jake listened in on how Newton interacted with his agents. Direct, no-questions-asked orders.

  Jake took a last walk through the house before heading to his car. He put a uniform in the front seat and one in back with Phil. He wasn’t taking any chances with him even though he wanted to be alone. Later, he’d grieve Kyra. Someone knocked on his window as he put the car in gear.

  “What?” Jake asked, all but screaming it.

  “We’re taking Lucci to my office, what with the leaks at your place,” Newton said.

  Jake noticed Captain McGuire behind Newton.

  “You agree, Captain?”

  “I do, Jake. Until we can round up the others listed in Phil’s file.” Jake looked in his rearview mirror. The panic he read on Lucci’s face lifted his heart. “I’ll follow you, Newton.”

  Once they placed Phil Lucci in federal custody, Jake met up with McGuire and Newton in one of the FBI’s conference rooms in Wilkesbury. Lieutenant Rinaldi been invited to join them. He looked up at McGuire. McGuire nodded, but didn’t say a word.

  “Jake, I’m going to get right to this. What we’ve found in Lucci’s files implicates the Russell woman. You know that from what you saw at the scene. It’s best that you leave Special Agent Newton here to continue the investigation into Stack’s death.”

  “She’s dead, Rinaldi. She jumped in front of me when Lucci started firing his gun and saved my life.” His slow reaction was something he’d have to live with the rest of his. “Captain—Shamus, you know I’m not involved. Right now all we have is her name in his file. We need more. I’m going to search her condo with Louie. This is still my case, Newton, back off.”

  “Get it done, Jake,” McGuire said.

  * * * *

  Jake and Louie methodically searched Kyra’s condo. Under her bed he found the loose flood board with nothing under it. She might’ve stored something there but what? Probably money. According to Phil’s records, he’d paid a large amount that should’ve been enough for her to gain custody. Is that why had she worked for Phil? It broke his heart. He understood. Once in, she wasn’t able to get out. Phil was transferred to Wilkesbury’s Police custody after they found corrupt FBI agents on the local level. Phil continued to be tightlipped and refused to cooperate. The only thing he did every time Jake and Louie interviewed him was taunt Jake about Kyra. If the cameras weren’t on he’d have hurt him.

  “You know, Carrington, she only dated you on my say so. Miss Goody Two Shoes left you then came to me. How does that make you feel?” Phil laughed.

  Jake didn’t engage him.

  “Phil, your lawyer has a list of evidence we have against you. Do you want to make a statement in your defense?” Jake asked between gritted teeth.

  Jake didn’t want Phil to defend himself. The state’s attorney was going to prosecute him. Rudderman was an honest man. Jake had to trust in his abilities to nail Phil to the wall. It was his only consolation.

  * * * *

  After things settled down, he was put on temporary suspension. Kyra’s death had drilled a large hole in Jake’s heart. He chided himself more than once. He should’ve seen it coming. At the bar, he threw back shot after shot. Trying for numb, he barely got to lightheaded. After a week he was cleared of any wrongdoing in the Kyra Russell case. His reinstatement didn’t ease his pain. For the past week he’d been taking the jokes and the ridicule from the other guys and Miller. He looked like a fool for not noticing the signs earlier. For Christ’s sake, he was a trained investigator. It took all his self-control to rein in his Irish temper. A few times he almost came to blows with Miller and his cronies. His immediate department knew better than to bust his chops, but hey, he was their boss.

  He raised his glass and signaled Pat.

  “What are you trying to do?” the bartender said.

  “Get drunk.”

  “That isn’t the way to handle this.”

  Pat knew everything, even though he was retired. Jake looked at him through bloodshot eyes. “What did you hear, Pat?”

 
“The usual bullshit.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to put up with all the comments and the fisheyes.”

  “You’ll do it for as long as it takes.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  The vial they found in Kyra’s purse was a slow-acting poison, derived from some kind of plant. The scientific name he used was Zygadenus venenosus otherwise referred to as death camas. If Phil hadn’t killed her, it looked as if Kyra had intended to do it herself with that stuff. He should’ve seen it coming both from Phil and Kyra.

  “Pat…put the bottle on the counter.”

  “No can do, Jake, you know the law.”

  “Well then keep it handy. I don’t want an empty glass, got it?”

  “Who’s driving you home, Jake?” A good bartender knew when to walk away. Pat wasn’t walking.

  “That’s none of your concern, Pat, just keep them coming.”

  Jake started to brood again as Kyra floated around in his head. A hand landed on his arm, tugging him from his pity party. Jesus, he’d never heard her approach.

  “Jake?”

  He stared, trying to focus on the figure before him.

  “Can I sit down?”

  “I’m not in the mood for company,” he said, turning away.

  “I understand. I’m sorry about Kyra.”

  He turned back. “Why are you here, Mia?”

  “I figured you needed a friend and an ear to listen. Mine are free.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Then I’ll sit here and drink with you.”

  “It’s a big bar, suit yourself.”

  Would she walk away from him again? Pride kept him from asking her to stay. He turned back to the bar and downed his drink.

  Damn her, she was going to wait him out. He should’ve called, but this last week he hadn’t had it in him.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Jake. You need a friend. I hope I’m still one.”

  “You’re much more.”

  Mia nodded.

  “Pat.” Jake hailed the bartender.

  “Yes, Jake?” He paused and turned. “Mia, right?”

  “Yes. Hi, Pat.”

  “What’ll y’ave,” Jake slurred.

  Mia motioned Pat away. “Why don’t we get that drink somewhere else?” Mia suggested.

  “Like where?”

  “Your place or mine, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Do you still love me, Mia?” Jake asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Me too,” Jake slurred.

  “You love you too?”

  “No, no, you know what I mean,” he snapped.

  “Relax, Jake, I understood what you meant. It was a joke.”

  “Do you want to leave?” Jake asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  When they got settled in at Jake’s house, Mia made coffee instead of drinks. Jake started telling her what and how thing went down. He didn’t leave out any details. Instead of talking to his girlfriend, he used her as a shrink.

  “Don’t downplay her death or the effects it had on you. She was a good woman who got in over her head. Gambling’s a disease. Hers happened to be terminal. I’ve been a little jealous of her since I first saw her with you that night. I’m not proud of that, but I felt betrayed that you were with her.”

  “Nobody can take your place. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mia, I love you with everything I am…”

  “Is this the Irish popping out?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She was making fun of him. And damn it, he’d had enough of that lately.

  “Relax, the Irish love their misery. I understand, I love getting my Irish on.”

  “Let me finish, because I’m only ever going to talk about this once.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He ran through their meet, the dates, his suspicions. How he’d ignored them. He stopped talking. Eyes focused in the distance, he picked up his coffee cup and sipped. “I’m sorry if this hurts you.”

  “It does, but I’m still here.”

  “She was insightful into everyone else but herself. Kyra had no self-respect left, toward the end. I saw it play out in her life and our relationship.” He stopped to gather his thoughts and looked at Mia.

  Silence.

  “Well?”

  “Well what, Jake?”

  “Do you want me to continue?”

  “Yes.”

  As he finished up, he took her hand. “I love you and I want to fix what’s wrong.”

  “It was mostly me, but I do need my independence. I can’t be suffocated.”

  “I suffocated you?” he asked, his anger peaking again.

  “Shit. I’m screwing this up. No, you weren’t, that’s my point. I was.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “It’s hard. I clung to you when things went wrong and hated myself for doing it. Then I pushed you away when things were going fine, and you…you walked away. You didn’t even fight to keep me. That’s what hurt the most. Why didn’t you make me stay?”

  “Make you stay?” Dumbfounded, he stared at her. “Because it’s unlawful to restrain a person.”

  “You didn’t try to stop me from leaving that night.”

  “I gave you what you asked for, what you wanted.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I’m a simple guy. You’re going to have to explain.”

  “I see. This is hard.”

  “Well, if you can’t, how am I supposed to understand?” What the hell does she mean?

  “You were supposed to come after me, tell me we’d work it out,” she said, tears clung to her long dark lashes. It broke his heart.

  “Mia, were we even in the same room? You left me no opening, you made it final.”

  “No, you did. Your stubborn Irish pride said ‘all or none.’”

  At a loss for words Jake stared at her. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand women, especially this one.

  “So we weren’t together because of me?”

  “Yes…no…oh, Jake, we’ve both been such fools.”

  “You never said you loved me.” He looked into her eyes as he pulled her into his arms.

  “I love you, Jake Carrington.”

  He crushed her to his chest, kissed her with a month of buried pent-up passion. His anger dissipated as he deepened the kiss. Breaking away, he looked deep into her blue eyes.

  “I need you in my life,” Jake said. Soon he’d have to deal with the mental anguish of Eva’s case and Spaulding, but for now he’d take comfort in Mia.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  For now his world had balance. How long it lasted…

  Acknowledgments

  To my ‘from the cradle to the grave friends’, Dorothy, Maureen, and Kathy. My life is enriched from knowing and loving you.

  A special thanks to Brenda Piel, Apieling Pictures LLC, for the great author picture.

  Meet the Author

  Photo by Brenda Piel, Apieling Pictures LLC

  A self-described tough blonde from Brooklyn, Marian Lanouette grew up as one of ten children. As far back as she can remember, Marian loved to read. She was especially intrigued by the Daily News crime reports. Tragically, someone she knew was murdered. The killer was never found. Her Jake Carrington thrillers are inspired by her admiration for police work, her experience in running a crematorium, and her desire to write books where good prevails, even in the darkest times. Marian lives in New England with her husband. Visit her on Facebook or at www.marianl.com. />
  All the Pretty Brides

  Don’t miss the next Jake Carrington thriller by Marian Lanouette

  Coming soon from Lyrical Underground,

  an Imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Keep reading to enjoy a sample excerpt . . .

  Prologue

  August 24th

  Disappointment, yet again—why does she continue to deny me? Not once in all these years has she kept her promise? I’ve kept mine. All have refused my terms even with the wedding preparations completed. This one’s like the rest of them—she cries all day and all night long. What more did she want? We have each other. That should be enough for her.

  She lies, insists she’s not my Ciara. And I’m saddened. I can see it in her eyes. My lovely Ciara’s planning on running away again? Not this time, bitch. You made me a promise. A promise you will keep one way or another. Until death do us part. You will not humiliate me again. We’re mated for life. That’s what marriage means. If I can’t have you no one else will.

  The fake must die. The simple truth of it struck hard. Though I’ve explained all this to her time after time, she doesn’t listen. Not one of them have kept their promise. Don’t they understand a promise is a commitment? Our wedding day has come and gone—five long years alone. And I haven’t one clue to your whereabouts. Each time I wind up with a cheap copy. No marriage, no children. I’ll give her one last chance though I understand deep in my heart it’s useless. She’s not Ciara—Ciara, never cries. Ciara, you’re independent, wild, strong and beautiful.

  I will not…cannot live without Ciara. I must find you and end this charade with the imposter downstairs.

  At the bottom of the stairs he stood, listened to the low whimper, then shut down his emotions. As he studied her he moved closer, and for the first time in weeks the differences popped out. A charlatan—how did I miss it? Oh, how she made a fool of me. Not anymore—she’ll join the other pretenders.

  Calmer, he walked over to her, unhooked the chains that bound her wrists and legs. With no fight left in her, he easily handled her. He dragged her up off the basement floor, spun her around, spooned her to his body and caressed the side of her face with his knife. He pressed the steel to her throat and drew a fine line until a trickle of blood appeared. He rested his head on hers and took a deep whiff, inhaling all the fragrances that bespoke of Ciara. Though her hair had been washed in Ciara’s shampoo, her neck drenched in Ciara’s perfume, this imposter was not his Ciara.