Dirty Rotten Scoundrel (Romantic Mystery) (J.J. Graves Mysteries)

by Liliana Hart

  I carefully inserted the needle between the second and third intercostal space at the mid clavicular line, and there was a sudden gush of air as Braddock was able to draw in a breath. He was still losing a lot of blood, and I had a feeling the bullet had hit something else of importance, but there wasn’t much more I could do without a hospital and the proper equipment.

  I heard sirens in the distance and Jack was keeping his hand pressed to the compresses on Wolfe’s shoulder.

  “Change them out,” I told him. “In the drawer above your head.”

  He nodded and made the switch quickly, tossing the bloodied rags aside. I could see the anger on Jack’s face. Some of the flying glass had cut his cheek and neck and blood dripped down onto the collar of his shirt.

  He got on the phone again and whoever picked up got the full force of his anger. “I want answers and I want them now,” he said. “This town is crawling with FBI agents and you can’t find someone that’s carrying around a sniper rifle and shooting people?”

  Jack was quiet for a minute and then his jaw clenched. “I’ve got officers responding and the paramedics are on the way. And we’re going to have a long conversation the next time we see each other.”

  The responding officers identified themselves as they neared the house, and Jack got up to let them in. He still had his weapon in his hand, and I saw when Martinez and Chen came inside they had theirs out as well.

  “They’ve got the area cordoned off and we’ve got officers patrolling in the area you thought the shots came from,” Martinez said. “We’re stepping on some federal toes, and they’re not too happy about it.”

  “You have no idea how sad that makes me,” Jack said. “How far behind are the paramedics?”

  “About another minute.”

  “You and Chen are going to personally accompany Wolfe to the hospital,” Jack said, pointing to his friend. “You’re going to stay with him through treatment and then accompany him back to my house. He’s not to have any visitors other than the medical personnel, and you stay with him round the clock.”

  “Yes, sir,” Martinez nodded.

  “What about the other one?” Chen asked.

  “He wasn’t the target. He just happened to be first in line. If Greer feels he needs added protection he can assign some, but I don’t think it’s necessary.”

  A crackle of sound came through on the radio on Chen and Martinez’s duty belts. “This is Lewis. I’ve got a possible shooter site. I’m not seeing any empty cartridges, but the location is right and the ground is disturbed. I’ve got a team coming in to see if we can find anything useful.”

  Martinez handed Jack the microphone attached to his collar so he could answer. “Good work Lewis. Have Sergeant Smith reassign all active cases to Cole and Durrant. I want everyone else split up into teams and working the area in grids. Have him organize it quickly. It’s taking the FBI too fucking long to get their shit together. And I can’t decide if they’re really here for the reasons they say they are, or if they have another agenda.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Chen went over to let the paramedics inside. I kept my fingers on the pulse at Braddock’s wrist. He’d lost consciousness, but he was still breathing, though those breaths were getting more shallow by the minute.

  “Good to see you, Doctor Graves,” one of the paramedics said. I recognized him from when I’d worked at the hospital. He had a lot of years in and good hands. He knelt down across from me.

  “Percy,” I acknowledged. “Gunshot wound to the chest. Collapsed lung. Bullet’s still in there.”

  Percy placed an endotracheal tube down his throat. “Good thing you were here. He wouldn’t have had a chance without a doctor close by.”

  I moved out of the way so Percy’s partner could start an IV, and another two paramedics moved in to treat Wolfe.

  “I’m fine,” Wolfe said. “It’s a through and through. Just sew me back up and give me some fluids.”

  “I see you’re an expert at this,” one of the paramedics said. “But it looks like a surgeon is going to have to see you. It looks like you’ve got fibers inside and you could have some damage.”

  Wolfe gave Jack a narrowed look, and I could see Jack wanted to smile. “Be good and go with them.”

  “I don’t want to miss out on the takedown. I’m not staying the night.”

  “Fine. As long as you don’t fall down from blood loss, you’re in.”

  “Let’s get moving then,” Wolfe grouched. They strapped Wolfe to a board and lifted him to the gurney, and they were rolling out the kitchen door. Jack nodded to Martinez and Chen and they followed him out.

  It was only a few more minutes until they had Braddock stable enough to move. Jack and I were in the wreckage of the kitchen alone. I heard the other cops outside of the funeral home, but the adrenaline was starting to catch up with me. I needed to stay busy.

  Jack’s phone rang. “It’s Carver,” he said, looking at the screen. He answered and I went to the drawer for some more clean towels and then wetted them. Jack switched the phone to his other ear so I could wipe away the blood on the right side of his face and see how bad the cuts were.

  “I want you to start digging, Carver,” he said, hissing as the water touched one of the deeper cuts. “Find out why the DOJ is involved. Their interest in this isn’t because of me or what happened six years ago. Greer and Lauren are holding something back.”

  Thankfully none of the cuts on his face or neck needed stitches, and for the most part they’d already stopped bleeding, with the exception of a couple that had already turned sluggish.

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” he said to Carver. “Just scratches. We’ll be back to the house soon.”

  Jack disconnected, took the towel from my hand, and tossed it in the sink. He wet the other towel I’d laid on the counter and then took my face in his hands gently as he doctored the cuts on my face and neck. I’d realized when the glass shattered that I’d caught a few stray cuts, but I’d stopped feeling them the moment I’d focused on Wolfe and Braddock.

  “Not too bad,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “You’re okay.”

  “Just another day at the office.”

  He laughed and buried his face against my hair. “It’s starting to seem that way, isn’t it? I’d give anything for you to not be in harm’s way, but I’m glad you were here today. Braddock is alive because of it and probably Wolfe too.”

  “I guess getting shot was a good way to prove he’s not involved.”

  “It lessens the chances. I’m going to have a couple of officers follow us back to the house. Once we get back I’ll call and have a cleaning crew come take care of the mess here and replace the window in the door.”

  “Sounds good,” I nodded. “Let’s go home. I could use a glass of wine or three.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jack had just turned onto Heresy Road when my cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, but the number was blocked. When I showed it to Jack he got out his own phone and started dialing.

  “Go ahead and answer it. Maybe we can get a trace on it.”

  “Doctor Graves,” I said, answering the call.

  “Jack has some bad enemies.” It was my father. I knew it would be. “Tell him I caught a glimpse of a man named Jesse Tydell over in King George Proper. He’s a captain for the Vagos motorcycle gang. Lots of kills under his belt. Ex-military with an expert marksman rating. He won’t be here alone. You and Jack got lucky today. Maybe you need to disappear for a little while.”

  “Dad—” It’s all I got to say before he disconnected. “Dammit.” I tossed the phone into my bag.

  “Not enough time,” he said, disconnecting. “Maybe Carver can work some magic on your phone when we get back. What did your dad say?”

  “That you need to be looking for a man named Jesse Tydell. He’s a captain for the Vagos. Dad saw him over in King George and he says he’s ex-military and an expert marksman.”

  Jack got back on
the phone and relayed the information to someone—I was guessing Greer.

  “Your dad seems to have a lot of knowledge about this.”

  “I think he’s worried about me. About you too.”

  And the knowledge was playing havoc with my emotions. I’d spent the last two years building up my hatred for my parents, convincing myself that I’d have been better to never know them at all. That they were nothing more than liars and thieves, and probably killers. It had festered inside of me—the hatred—and it gave me something to hold on to as guilt and blame weighed down on my own shoulders.

  I’d wondered more than once if I should have known or realized something was going on. It happened right under my nose. And a small part of me wondered if what the police had said was really true—that my parents had been having problems and driven over that cliff on purpose. I’d been ashamed almost more over that than the illegal activities, which made no sense at all. But them committing double suicide had shaken the very foundation of my world—my upbringing.

  My parents had been a lot of things during my childhood—they’d worked too much, missing softball games and the occasional school play—but they’d provided me with security, an education, and I never went hungry. They didn’t provide love, but maybe it just wasn’t in them to do so. And it worried me that being unable to love was something I might suffer from when I had children of my own.

  “He told us we need to get out of town. Lay low for awhile.”

  “I’m starting to think maybe that’s not such a bad idea. At least for you.”

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” The squad car behind us stayed close and I saw another parked along the road next to the turn in to Jack’s house.

  “Don’t be stubborn about this, Jaye.”

  “Do you see this big ass ring that’s sitting on my finger? It means that my place is with you. Period. You’re not going to send me away so you can be shot at all alone. If that’s what you’re aiming for, then I’m more than of shooting at you.”

  Jack snorted out a laugh. “I’m sure you would.”

  He did a u-turn in the driveway and then backed into the garage so he was facing out. The garage was attached to the house and there was an entry door into the mudroom. He closed the garage door and we went inside.

  Carver was in the kitchen making a sandwich. He was still FBI pressed and polished, but his hair was disheveled as if he’d been running his fingers through it over and over again.

  “Oh, good. You’re back,” he said. “And alive. A team is being put together to check out the tip about Jesse Tydell and any known associates. If he’s here, we’ll run him to ground. How do the two of you feel about a trip to D.C.?”

  “It depends. Are you trying to put us in a safe house?” Jack asked.

  Carver’s lips twitched before he took a giant bite of sandwich. “I would if I didn’t know you’d cut my balls off with that knife you carry in your boot. But no, that’s not my objective.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Eric and Karl Lieber’s parents are stateside. They were staying at their home in New York and we were able to subpoena them to come to D.C. to be reinterviewed. I thought you might like to be there.”

  “Greer’s letting you take that?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’re a team. Don’t you know the FBI motto?” The look on Carver’s face insinuated they were anything but. “But I actually agree with Greer on this one. It’ll help to get the two of you out of here while they’re running Jesse Tydell to ground. We don’t want him to get another shot at you.”

  “I’d prefer him not get another shot at me either. I’m just surprised Greer is agreeing to let you take point with this.”

  “Greer and I have come to an understanding. I’m here because you’re my friend and you asked me to be here. Though I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask me to come for this. Maybe we’ll get to that at some point, hmm?” He looked at me and I smiled innocently. I wasn’t sure I was ready to let anyone besides Jack see those boxes. “This isn’t my case. It’s Greer’s. And though I could take it from him if I wanted to, I don’t really want to. He’s doing a thorough job and he’s good at what he does. He’s not the one you have to worry about.”

  “Lauren,” Jack said, nodding. “I had a feeling she was up to something.”

  “She’s up to wanting you back. That much is obvious.”

  “He’s not available,” I said. I grabbed a soda from the fridge instead of getting another cup of coffee.

  “Do you think there’s a chance you and Lauren will get into a fight?” Carver asked. “Maybe pull some hair. And maybe Lauren rips your blouse some and while you’re both rolling around in the mud her skirt could ride up around her waist.”

  “I guess you’ve put some thought into that scenario,” I said.

  “Only before I go to bed every night.”

  “Oh, good. That makes it less creepy.”

  “You sound like my wife.” The look on his face was so forlorn I had to laugh.

  “I’d like to meet your wife some time.”

  “You’d probably like each other a lot. She’s always threatening to kill me.”

  “I know a lot of different ways to kill a person. Maybe I can give her some tips.”

  He gave a long, low whistle and looked at Jack. “And you’re going to marry this woman? She’s pretty scary.”

  Jack grinned and winked at me. “I like to live on the edge. Now tell me what you found out about the DOJ.”

  “Word has it they knew from the start that the Vagos were involved in this. The Department of Justice has been trying to get a leg up on them for almost a decade. They haven’t been able to penetrate and it’s one of the largest gangs where they don’t have someone on the inside. Lauren’s here to make sure the Vagos who were hired stay alive. She’s hoping she can get one to turn and give inside information.”

  Jack’s arms crossed over his chest and his face went to stone. “She wants them to walk after they killed my men? Nine men and an attempt on Wolfe and she just wants them to go free in exchange for information.”

  Carver wisely stayed silent and watched Jack over his sandwich. I was really starting to dislike Lauren.

  “Fuck that, Carver. If I get the opportunity I’m taking them out. Where does Greer stand on this?”

  “I’m not sure he really knows why she’s here because it was need to know information and Greer doesn’t have the clearance. I don’t either, but I’ve got my ways.” Carver sighed and dropped the rest of his sandwich on his plate, pushing it away.

  “Listen, Jack. I can’t say that I wouldn’t do the same thing if I were in your shoes. I’m staying neutral in this. But you don’t want to cross the DOJ if you can help it. Lauren might want you in her bed, but she’ll slit your throat if it will further her career.”

  “I’ll handle Lauren. Thanks for finding out the information.”

  “I’m adding it to your tab. You owe me just over a billion dollars, but I’ll call it a clean slate if you babysit for me and Michelle and let us get away for a weekend. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve slept an entire night?”

  “That’s what you get for being so virile,” Jack said. “It’s the price you pay for your manhood.”

  “I guess when you put it that way I am a pretty impressive specimen.” He buffed his fingers on the front of his shirt.

  “You want a sandwich before we leave for D.C?” Jack asked me, taking the stuff from Carver and making one for himself.

  “No, I’m not hungry. And I’ve still got blood under my fingernails and on my clothes. I’m going to shower and change.”

  “You sure do take a lot of showers.”

  “Death is a messy business. Is this an overnight trip or are we coming back tonight?”

  “Pack a bag,” Carver said. “We’ll come back first thing in the morning. It’ll give the guys a little longer to look for Jesse and his friends.”

  ***

  An hour la
ter Jack and I were both showered and changed and we were headed to D.C. in Carver’s government issue SUV.

  “I started combing all of the financials that came in,” Carver said. “You told me that Katie Elliott’s experimental cancer treatment was paid for by an organization called Kids With Cancer. From what I can tell it seems to be a huge non-profit organization and all legit on the surface. The money goes to the kids.”

  “What about underneath the surface?” Jack asked.

  “That’s always the kicker. About six months before the Federal Reserve heist a two million dollar donation was given to Kids With Cancer anonymously. That was the largest single donation by one patron they’d had since the charity’s inception.”

  “Can you see who the anonymous donor was?”

  “It’s going to take some digging with my lady love.”

  Carver was referring to his computer. He seemed to have unnatural feelings for an object that plugged into the wall. Of course, before I’d met Jack and was having regular sex I’d had unnatural feelings for an object that had plugged into the wall too.

  “They’ve got the money hidden behind a bunch of bogus corporations. But if we keep following the money we’ll get to the right spot.”

  “Did you find anything else in the financials?” Jack asked.

  “That wasn’t enough? You’re going to be babysitting for a whole week if you don’t start showing some appreciation.”

  “Fine. I’ll start digging through the research and you walk around town dressed like me to see if one of the Vagos will shoot you in the street.”

  “When you put it that way I should probably stick with the research. My wife hates it when I get shot.”

  “I can sympathize,” I said. “I’ve never been very fond of Jack getting shot either. Are you sure no one is following us?”