It was the perfect set-up. Rumor had it that Malcolm was mad because John ran for Governor. Malcolm wanted that position. Their parents supposedly got involved and told Malcolm he needed to step aside for his older brother. As for Harold, he hated my father.
Kill two birds … or mistress with one stone.
But why did they use Ivy?
“Accusing them of murder is a serious accusation,” I said.
He nodded in agreement. “I know.”
“We need more information. A lot more. We have to have all of our ducks in a row before even bringing it up to them or anyone else. Do you think you can find this burner phone?”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Burner phones are complicated. They don’t have an account attached to them and aren’t easy to trace.”
“Find a way.”
“And how do you expect me to do that? I can’t exactly strut into the police station and ask him to give it to me.”
I snapped my fingers before pointing at him. “Then we’ll sneak into Harold’s house and find it.” What the fuck? How did finding a burner phone lead to breaking and entering? “If there’s anything that man has to hide, it’ll be in there. I guarantee it.”
Murphy let out a sinister laugh. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch.” He clapped his hands together and jumped up from his chair. “And I’m in.”
“Hack into his schedule. See when his house will be empty.”
***
I didn’t tell Gabby about our plan to break into a police officer’s house. She would’ve either objected or demanded I let her come.
Harold had downsized since his divorce, now living in a small, one-story home that needed a serious mow and landscaping work. We were parked across the street a few houses down from his in Murphy’s car – both of us wearing ball caps that hung low. I ducked down when Harold pulled out of the driveway in his cruiser.
Perfect timing.
Murphy unbuckled his seatbelt when Harold’s taillights were out of view. “You ready to do this, boss?” he asked.
I wrapped my hand around the door handle. “It’s now or never,” I replied. I was desperate for answers, and if breaking and entering into a police officer’s house was what I had to do to get them, I was taking my chances.
We got out of the car and sprinted into Harold’s backyard. Murphy managed to open the door with an old gym membership card. I assumed a police officer would’ve been more careful about the security and locks on his house. I followed him inside and froze at the sound of the alarm going off.
Oh fuck. Alarms were more difficult than cheap ass door locks.
“Don’t worry. I got this,” Murphy said, calmly. He punched in a code, and my shoulders relaxed when it silenced.
“Dude, I need you to teach me some tricks,” I muttered. I shut the door behind us. “Now let’s find something before he gets back.”
He gestured down the hallway. “I’ll take the kitchen and living room. The bathroom and bedroom are all yours.”
I nodded, turning down the hallway. The place was only a two bedroom. I went to Harold’s first. The bed was unmade. Clothes covered the floor. Soda cans took over the nightstand. This man was definitely going downhill from when I’d known him growing up.
I went straight to the nightstand. That’s where the good shit always was. I examined every piece of paper. Receipts. Junk mail. Nothing.
Fuck!
His dresser was next. I rifled through the drawers, moving away wads of unmatched socks, when I felt it. I knew the feel of money from anywhere.
“Jackpot!” I hissed. I grabbed it, dashed down the hall, and found Murphy in the living room. “You got anything?”
“This.” He held up some cash. “Found it stuffed in a cereal box.” He pointed to a laptop sitting on the table. “Also spotted this underneath the couch. I’m transferring all of the data onto my thumb drive as we speak, just in case there’s anything on there. What about you?”
I showed him the wad of cash. “Found this in his sock drawer.”
He snapped his fingers. “I think we’re getting somewhere.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
GABBY
I glanced up at the sound of the doorbell with concern. Dalton said he wouldn’t be home for a few hours, and no one else would come by without calling first.
I looked through the peephole to see two people I didn’t recognize. A girl and a guy were arguing back and forth. The girl threw her hands up in the air while the guy scolded her in harsh whispers.
What the hell?
Did they have the wrong door? Were they here about Ivy?
Hopefully the last one was negative.
This whole situation had me way too paranoid.
I clutched my phone in my hand, took a deep breath, and slowly opened up the door. They froze up, their hands and whispers stopping.
They looked like teenagers who were sent to boarding school by their wealthy and strict parents. They actually somewhat reminded of Dalton and his siblings. The guy was probably around my age. His dark hair was neatly slicked back, and boyish dimples popped from his cheeks. The girl looked barely old enough to have her driver’s license. Her hair was lighter, more of a chestnut blonde, and pulled back with a Burberry headband.
The guy straightened up his back and cleared his throat. “Are you Gabby?” he asked.
“Yes?” I drew out. Who were these people? Why were they at my door?
“I’m Patrick,” he replied, and then pointed to the girl. “And this is Marissa.” He looked at her for a few seconds before giving me his attention again. “We’re your brother and sister.”
My jaw dropped, and I stared at them, speechless. I didn’t need any more surprises at the moment.
“John … he’s our dad,” Marissa went on. “He told us about you.” Her voice was smooth and sweet, almost childlike.
“Your father is a pig,” I spat out, before I could stop myself. I looked down at the ground, feeling bad, but I was so pissed. How dare he use his kids as a pawn to get closer to me?
They didn’t look surprised at my response. “We know he has some bad qualities,” Patrick replied. “But nevertheless, he is a good father.”
“We wanted to come in … talk … get to know each other … if that’s okay with you?” Marissa asked, clasping her hands in front of her.
I briefly wondered how rude it would’ve been to tell them no and slam the door in their faces. But I couldn’t. They weren’t John. They didn’t deserve my aggression. They’d come out of their way to talk to me, and I needed to have the courtesy to return the favor.
I took a step back and waved my hand in front of me. “Sure, come in.” I shut the door behind them and pointed to the couch. “You can have a seat over there. Can I get you anything?”
They both shook their heads. “No, we’re okay,” Marissa answered, while Patrick followed her to the couch.
I sat down across from them in a chair, my nervousness holding me back from getting too close. We all looked at each other for a few seconds, taking one another in. I could see the resemblance between us. We shared the same nose, the same small cleft in our chins.
I had a brother and sister.
Wow.
“We wanted to meet you,” Marissa said, softly. “I’ve always wanted a big sister, and when our parents told us about you, that’s the only thing I could think about.”
Patrick nodded in agreement. “We don’t know the whole story about what happened between your mom, you, and our dad. He said you’re not really interested in having a relationship with him, but would you consider one with us?”
Marissa’s deep brown eyes stared at me, waiting for my answer. Saying yes would change everything in my life. I’d be opening up a door I wasn’t sure I wanted open yet. I hesitated, unsure of what my answer would be, but hoped my lips could form the right word.
I gulped. “Okay,” I said slowly. “I’d like that as well.”
Two childlike smiles spre
ad across their lips.
“Then let’s get to know each other, shall we?” Patrick asked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DALTON
“What’s wrong?” I asked, rushing through the door. I threw down my briefcase on the floor and headed straight to her. I’d sped home as soon as I got her text message telling me she needed me.
I found her sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of tea, and looking straight ahead at nothing. She blew out a breath before looking at me.
“I had visitors today,” she answered.
Visitors? Don’t be the cops.
“Good visitors? Bad visitors?” I blurted out, sitting down next to her.
“I really don’t know.” She paused. “They were John’s kids. My … uh … brother and sister.”
Well shit. I still wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
I sat down next to her and ran my hand over my forehead. My girl didn’t need anymore stress right now. “Did you slam the door in their faces? Invite them in?” I didn’t want to give a reaction until I found out what hers was. If she was happy, I wanted to share that excitement. If she was upset, I wanted to console her.
“I … I don’t know. I’m still trying to process it. I grew up wishing for a father but finally realized that was never going to happen. I came to terms with it. Then bam! Enter father. Enter pregnancy. Enter siblings. It seems like everything is smacking me in the face all at once.”
I nodded my head in understanding. It seemed like her world had gone crazy since she got involved with me, and I was terrified she’d end up leaving when she realized it. I grabbed her hand, gently swiping my thumb across her soft skin. “You know I’m here for you, right? If you need anything, or there’s something you don’t feel like doing and want me to do, I’m game. Anything, you hear me?”
She squeezed my hand before laughing. “I think you, my mom, Cora, and Daisy are the only reason I’m seriously not going off the deep end right now. For some reason, you ground me.”
It felt pretty damn satisfying hearing her say that. I grounded her. Little did she know, she was the one holding me together. “Did they just want to meet you? Or really get to know you … like relationship status?”
“They want to get to know me.”
“Tell me everything.”
I leaned back, allowing her to situate herself in my arms, and gave her my undivided attention. She told me about them showing up at the door and asking to come in. She told me she agreed but wanted to take things slow.
“And there’s something else,” she said, drawing out the words as soon as she was finished with her story.
“Yeah?” Again, why did new information seem to always worry me?
“Leo brought gifts to the baby shower from your mom and Piper. With everything that’s happened, I completely spaced it, but I finished unpacking all of the gifts today and found them.”
I gulped, hoping my mom didn’t send her something threatening or weird. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a check to stay the hell away from me, a bribe to runaway with our baby. I lost her when she pulled away and headed into the room that was going to be the nursery. She came back with a gift bag and sat down.
“These are from your mom,” she said, pulling objects from the bag. I recognized the baby blanket and silver spoon that had belonged to me. She then pulled out Rufus, my first stuffed monkey. My mom had kept those? She opened another bag. “And these outfits and mini Louis Vuitton bag are from Piper.”
Wow. The fact that they did this for Gabby put some happiness in my terrible day.
“Do you think this is them coming around?” she asked.
“I think it is,” I replied, even though I wasn’t completely sure. My family was experts at the manipulation game, and I hoped they weren’t trying to play us.
***
I sent my mom and Piper a text message asking them to meet me for a coffee.
“Hey guys,” I said, joining them at the table. I gave Piper a kiss on the cheek when she got out of her chair. “There’s my favorite sister.” I waited until we received our drinks before bringing up the gifts. “Gabby told me what you guys sent to the baby shower. We both really appreciate it.”
My mom played with the handle of her coffee cup and cleared her throat before replying. “It was the right thing to do,” she said. “Your father and I have been talking. As bad as we dislike the young lady, we feel-”
“But why do you dislike her?” I asked, interrupting her. “What has she done to you?” I looked over at Piper. “To any of you?” She glanced down, failing to make eye contact. My mom only stared at me, trying to come up with anything she could use against Gabby. “Exactly. Nothing.”
She stared at me for a few more seconds before saying anything. “I suppose you’re right.”
Piper nodded. “Yeah, I guess I’m graduated now. I need to get over the high school drama. Tell her I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” I winked. “And for that, I’ll buy your coffees.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DALTON
“There has to be something I’m missing,” I muttered to myself. I’d been staring at my computer screen for the past hour going through the copy Murphy made me of Harold’s hard drive. I was on the hunt for something that I wasn’t even sure existed.
Murphy made me a copy. Two brains were better than one, and we needed to start working harder. Murphy did a great job getting all of Harold’s information. It was like I was inside his computer.
My hand froze on the mouse when I spotted one of the biggest things I’d been looking for.
Fucking bingo.
I clicked on the folder named Police Reports and scrolled down until I found Ivy’s name and case number. I was surprised he’d even kept this information on his personal computer.
Homicide Report 65671
Name of Victim: Ivy Hart
Age of Victim: 28
Sex of Victim: F
Race of Victim: White/Caucasian
Date of Death: July 6, 2013 or July 7, 2013
Time of Death: Estimated between 10:30 PM – 1:30 AM
Last Seen Alive: July 6, 2013
Weapons Used: Firearm (Make and Model TBD), Knife/ Cutting Instrument.
Rigor: Present.
Cause of Death: Blunt force to the head, 15 stab wounds (listed in detail on page 6), and 1 gunshot to the front temple.
Offender: Unknown
I scrolled through the rest of the details until I found the Evidence Page.
Physical Evidence:
No DNA present on body or at the crime scene.
Circumstantial Evidence:
Item 654: Security footage from Victim’s home of two individuals bribing worker access into Victim’s apartment. (ID as Dalton Douglas and Gabrielle Taylor.)
Item 655: Reports of an affair with Atlanta Governor John Gentry.
Item 656: A non-disclosure form found from Douglas PR and Law Firm attempting to pay off Victim before exposing affair. Parents say Douglas and Taylor had been stalking her.
Possible Persons of Interest:
John Gentry
Douglas PR and Law Firm and Employees, including Dalton Douglas, Wilson Douglas, and Gabrielle Taylor
I moved on from there and went to his other documents until I found the one labeled Passwords.
Jackpot.
I went to his browser history. My jaw dropped, and it took me a minute to gain my composure. I picked up my phone and hit John’s name.
“I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
***
I was meeting John by myself. Just the two of us. He’d asked me to help him, now it was time he did the same for me. John hadn’t been doing much to help us – with the exception of making his statement. He’d been brought into the station once for questioning, but was released two hours later after Billy came in to represent him. Harold was reaching for straws, but I knew he was close
to planting evidence if he didn’t find enough.
The sun was barely up when I parked in the empty alley. I unlocked my door when I noticed his black Escalade pull up. He hurried over to my car, his head hung low, and slipped into the passenger seat.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking over at me in concern. “Why was this so urgent?”
“Did your wife know Harold Finch?” I asked.
“Who?” He paused to think for a few seconds. “The detective investigating Ivy’s murder?” I nodded. “No … not that I’m aware of, but Edith seems to know everyone around Atlanta. She’s a popular socialite and philanthropist. She’s also donated her fair share to the Police Department.”
“Ah, she must be a pretty generous woman.”
“Yes, she is. She loves charity work.”
“Generous enough to give one officer in particular six hundred thousand dollars?” His eyes widened. “Can you guess who that officer is?”
I had almost lost it when I got into Harold’s browser. The idiot had all of his usernames and passwords saved in his records, so it took me only three seconds to log in.
That’s when I noticed the transfer from a familiar offshore account.
Celine Dion.
Was Edith a fucking idiot? She knew we’d caught her giving money to Ivy. Why would she use the same account to pay Harold?
“My wife wouldn’t give anyone that much money.” He faked a chuckle, but I noticed the uncertainty on his face. “There’s no way.”
I pulled out my evidence. “Yes way. I made copies. This account is the same one who paid Ivy, which your wife admitted to. She paid Harold to do something. I’m not sure what it was yet. But there’s a reason he got put on this case, and there’s a reason why we’re the only suspects.”
“You’re … you’re mistaken.”
“I’m not. Now buckle up.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to talk to your wife.”
Breaking Karma Page 14