Murder in the River City

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Murder in the River City Page 12

by Allison Brennan


  Truth be told, she didn’t feel the same way about Jason now as she had then. Three years was a long time. And three years ago, Sam had been married. She’d written him off the day he said I do to Emma and moved on with her life.

  And now Sam was single.

  So was Jason. What happened yesterday in the storeroom with Sam still hurt. She felt raw and exposed. At first she was furious, then as the realization settled in, she was so deeply sad because it was over. Worse, she wanted to go to him and tell him, Yes, Sam, I’ll do anything you want if you love me. And that made her feel needy and angry all over again. She had always prided herself on being independent and self-sufficient. And any man who would give her orders about who she could talk to, who she could do business with, who she could be friends with, was not a man she could love.

  Sam now knew Jason wasn’t a criminal, but could she trust him down the road not to give her ultimatums?

  She’d been living in a daze since last night. Maybe all week. How could she have told Agent Hooper that Austin was going to call her? She obviously knew nothing about men. Not Jason, not Austin, and certainly not Sam Garcia.

  Someone slid onto the stool next to her. “Are you okay?”

  She jumped. “Austin?”

  “Why do you look so surprised?”

  “I—I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He smiled, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I hope it’s a happy surprise.”

  “I’m not unhappy,” she said and smiled. “Can I get you a drink? Dooley has some great Scotch.” Austin never drank beer. Maybe that was one reason she couldn’t get past three dates.

  “I can’t stay—I have a late business meeting. But thank you anyway.”

  “So why did you stop by?”

  “To see how you’re doing. You were so upset on Monday. I wanted to give you a couple days. I’d hoped you would have called.”

  “Thanks, it’s been rougher on my grandfather than on me.”

  “Have they caught the guys who robbed the place?”

  She shook her head. Was he pumping her for information? Was he trying to figure out what the police knew? Could he be involved with murder?

  “Honestly? I don’t think they’re looking very hard. I keep calling, trying to get information out of the lead detective, but he keeps putting me off.” Which had been true.

  Austin reached out and touched her cheek. “Is that a bruise?”

  “I was just stupid,” she said, not wanting to get into how she got it. If Austin was involved, he might know about the break-in, and then he’d know she was in the apartment. She didn’t want to make up something, because then he’d know she was suspicious of him. If he pushed, she’d tell him the truth. Fortunately, he didn’t.

  “You are not a stupid woman, Shauna,” he said and took her hand.

  “Austin, please—we’ve been over this.”

  Her heart pounded. She wasn’t a deceptive person. Black was black and white was white and playing games with Austin was twisting her insides so tight she couldn’t swallow another sip of Guinness.

  “I know, don’t push you. I’m not. Did you know your old fiancé was back in town? The guy who went to prison for an insurance scam?”

  Why was he asking her? Should she deny it? Except—didn’t Agent Hooper say that the hotel was, in part, a front to get into the good graces of Austin and his law partners?

  “I found out yesterday. He came by the Murphy & Sons office.”

  Austin seemed surprised, but it could have been an act. “I hadn’t thought you two split on the best of terms.”

  “Well, yes and no. I mean, I couldn’t marry him, but we were friends for a long time. And he’s not—” She bit her lip. She almost let it slip what she knew. She would make a real shitty spy.

  “He’s not what?” Austin pushed.

  “A bad guy. You know, I know he did some wrong things, but it’s not like he killed anyone.” Oh, God, she was digging herself into a deeper hole. She sipped her Guinness to get herself to stop talking.

  “I understand what you mean.”

  “Anyway,” she said quickly, trying to cover up the awkwardness, “he wants to hire me. He didn’t give me many details yet. We’re going to talk next week. Just that he’s trying to buy a hotel and wants me to renovate it. It would be a great opportunity, if the structure is sound. But I don’t know if I can work for him.” She paused, sipped her beer. Agent Hooper had told her to be herself, and she was, but now she was getting too personal, too chatty, as if she and Austin were old friends. Except, they were friends. Sort of friends.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t be talking about my ex-boyfriend with you.”

  He took her hand again. “I’m glad you feel comfortable with me. I would very much like you to join me tomorrow night at the charity ball. I could go with one of the partners in the firm, but it would be all business and I wouldn’t have any fun.”

  She stared at her beer, her heart racing. This was it. She had been right. But she also felt something was different. It was how Austin was looking at her. Calculating? Did he already know the FBI was onto him? Did he know about Jason? Or was her own guilt and doubts and questions clouding her judgment?

  “Shauna?” he asked.

  “As friends, Austin. I’ll go if you promise we’re just going as friends.”

  His entire face brightened. “Of course, Shauna. Friends. I appreciate it. And I promise, you’ll have a wonderful time.”

  She smiled, but suspected it looked like a grimace. “I know I will.”

  “It’s a formal ball,” Austin said as he stood. “I’m going to have a dress sent to your house tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Please don’t,” she said.

  He frowned, hurt and maybe a little too angry to make her comfortable, but she thought she was reading something into his expression. She was already on an emotional roller coaster this week.

  “I want to, Shauna. I know you. You’ll look at your closet and find something beautiful, but you don’t have time to shop for a formal gown.”

  “I don’t like shopping.” She bought most of her dresses from an on-line store.

  “Exactly. So please? Let me? If it’ll make you feel better, you can pay for it, but I’d rather it be my treat.”

  “Austin, I can’t afford your taste.”

  He laughed. “I’ll have it delivered by three in the afternoon. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty. We’ll be having dinner with some of my clients, and then the ball starts at eight.” He kissed her, this time on the lips, and said, “I promise, Shauna, you will have the night of your life.”

  She stared after Austin as he left the pub, then she called Agent Hooper. When she got off the phone, another familiar voice said, “I hear we’re partners.”

  “Jason.” She turned on the stool and glared at him. “Austin just left.”

  “I know. I waited until he drove off before I came in.”

  “Does Agent Hooper know you’re here?”

  “You mean the Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge? Hooper is almost as big as you get in this town. And yeah, he knows. We’re friends of a sort, I suppose. He’s a good guy.”

  Jason looked tired and distracted. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He smiled like Prince Charming. “I’m always okay. I’m sorry I lied to you. I wanted to tell you the truth, but …” His voice trailed off and Shauna didn’t know what he was going to say.

  “But what? That I couldn’t keep a secret? Maybe you’re right. I almost screwed up everything ten minutes ago with Austin.”

  “You’re not a liar, Shauna. It’s one reason I loved so much—you are exactly who you act like. No pretension, no games, just a real person. I didn’t want you to live a lie. Not to your family. My parents don’t even know the truth. I don’t know how long I’ll be doing this, maybe it’ll end this weekend, maybe it’ll be a year.”

  “Why did you do this all, Jason? Why have all your friends and family think the
worst of you?”

  He didn’t answer right away. “It’s a long, complicated story, Shauna. I have my reasons. Someday, when it’s all over, I’ll tell you.”

  She nodded and hugged him. “Is it worth it?”

  The weariness came back in his expression. “Most of the time, it is. You okay?”

  She sighed. “Jason, we’ve been friends since our first day of college when we were both lost trying to find Macroeconomics with Professor Kim.”

  “And had coffee at the Pavilion Starbucks and you told me you wanted to be a historical architect.”

  “And you told me you wanted to go spelunking before you decided what you wanted to do when you grew up.”

  “You didn’t know what it was.”

  She groaned. “I do now.”

  “Do you remember when my brother Kyle graduated top of his class at Stanford?”

  “You said you were glad he was the oldest and you didn’t have the same pressure.”

  “And you said I had more. I laughed at you. But you were right. Only, it was pressure I put on myself. I think I liked playing the game and getting away with it. Kyle was the golden boy. I wanted to be the black sheep.”

  She grinned. “You did a pretty good job at that, at least in theory.”

  He smiled, reminding Shauna they had a history, mostly a good history, and now that she knew the truth, she had no regrets. “We’ll always be friends, Jason.”

  “I really appreciated all your letters. Even though you didn’t know the truth, you kept in touch.”

  She dismissed the comment. “Like I said, we’re friends first and I wasn’t going to abandon you.” She paused and added, “Are you and Sam okay?”

  “We’ll see. He was just doing his job. Maybe a little too gleefully, but honestly? When the FBI set everything up, Sam was the first to figure out I was ‘bad,’ for lack of a better word. He’s a really good cop.”

  “Yeah. Well.” She didn’t want to talk about Sam. “Do you think Austin Davis is capable of doing what the FBI thinks he’s doing?”

  Without hesitation, Jason said, “Worse. He and George Coresco are the lawyers to dozens of crime families in Sacramento and Nevada. Not as sexy as New York or Miami, but raw and violent. Mostly drugs and human trafficking. They don’t handle any criminal defense, which makes it doubly hard connecting them to anything illegal. But Dean and I have almost figured it out.”

  “If you know so much, why can’t they arrest them?”

  “Because I have no proof. Something big is going down tomorrow night, and Austin already contacted me about my hotel. I’m hoping I’ll get exactly what Dean Hooper needs to back trace the money and catch them all with dirty hands.”

  Jason’s expression was full of concern, and he looked as worried as she felt. “Be careful tomorrow. And if you feel at all threatened, let me know. I’ll get you out.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Jason. And for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you were never guilty.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Excellent, Ms. Murphy,” Hooper said over the phone while he, Sam, John and several FBI support staff and agents were going over the final plans for tomorrow’s event. As soon as Sam realized it was Shauna, he tried to listen, but Shauna did most of the talking. Hooper said to her, “I’ll contact you tomorrow morning and give you the final arrangements. Thank you, Ms. Murphy.”

  He hung up and said to the group assembled in the FBI conference room, “Austin Davis contacted Ms. Murphy, and she’ll be accompanying him to the charity event tomorrow. She also mentioned a client dinner before. Melanie?”

  Special Agent Melanie Hale was one of Hooper’s trusted agents.

  “Yes, Butler said Davis was setting up a dinner with all his construction clients.”

  Sam frowned. “Why does he want Shauna there?”

  “She’s in the construction business,” Hooper said. “He trusts her. Maybe he wants her opinion.”

  “Or he plans on using Murphy & Sons in one of his criminal enterprises,” Sam said.

  Hooper gave him a long look, and Sam realized his tone had been angry. Sam continued, “I don’t think you understand what you’ve asked Shauna to do.”

  “I do, Sam, but I’ll admit that right now you’re the one making me nervous. Is there something I need to know?”

  “The Garcias and the Murphys have been friends since before any of us were born. My dad and Frank Murphy were in the Army together. They went to college together on the GI bill. They married best friends. We’re family.” That wasn’t all of it.

  Hooper nodded. “All right.”

  Nothing else. Good. Sam didn’t want to talk about Shauna anymore. He wanted to see her.

  Sam had to admit, for a clandestine operation with no eyes inside the event, Hooper’s plan was solid. They didn’t expect any trouble, nor did they expect Jason Butler would be exposed. Not even the parole board knew the arrangement Butler had made with the FBI.

  Hooper asked Abbott, “What’s the status on the warrants?”

  “AUSA Keene is working on it. We won’t know until late tonight.”

  “Detective?” Hooper turned to John Black. “What about yours?”

  “I met with the District Attorney, who understands the sensitivity of my request. He’s meeting a judge early in the morning, one he trusts.”

  Sam asked, “Warrants for what?”

  Hooper said, “We’re asking for the same thing, hoping we can get it either locally or federally. I want to bug Davis. The difficulty, why we haven’t been able to get anything before, is because he’s a lawyer and there’s attorney-client privilege. We wouldn’t be able to use anything against him that we learned if he was speaking to a client who had the reasonable expectation of privacy. But with Butler and Shauna going in, I think we have a strong argument for them wearing a wire. I’m also arguing for audio and visual surveillance of the restaurant they’re meeting in before the charity event.”

  “You want Shauna to wear a wire.” Sam hated the idea.

  “She’s already agreed.”

  Of course she did, Sam thought.

  Sam had one small victory in protection for Shauna and Jason. Hooper had agreed to work Manny Rodriguez in as a valet. The valet service was separate from the hotel, and Manny knew the manager. Because they feared Davis would be tipped off to law enforcement presence if any of the hotel staff changed, valet was the best place for Manny.

  The big question was if Joey Gleason was going to show up. If yes, then John would arrest him for murder and hold him over the weekend. He had no solid evidence, and had held back getting a search warrant at Hooper’s request. There was no doubt Gleason would get a lawyer, but they didn’t want to tip off anyone at Coresco’s firm before the event.

  If Gleason didn’t show up, he was most likely dead, and his death would end the only lead in Mack’s murder.

  After getting the room number and key for the FBI suite at the Hyatt where Hooper himself would be coordinating surveillance and information, Sam walked out with John Black. “I think this whole thing is going to blow up in our faces,” Sam said.

  “I think you’re right.”

  Sam frowned. “I’d hoped you would tell me I was worried for nothing.”

  “Hooper has a solid plan. And I like that he’s flexible. But Coresco has not only avoided prosecution, he’s stayed way down on the radar. I’ve heard the rumblings, and I sat in on Hooper’s meeting with Manny about what he knew of the law firm. But, Hooper has been working this sting operation for three years. He knows it’s dangerous, but it’s also important.”

  “You have a lot of faith in the FBI.”

  “I’ve known Dean Hooper for several years. He’s one of the most professional and intelligent FBI agents I’ve met. He used to work in DC as the assistant director for all financial crimes. Coming here as an ASAC was, essentially, a voluntary demotion.”

  “Why?”

  “He got married. Love makes you question everything, and you m
ake different choices.”

  Sometimes, you made the wrong choices.

  And sometimes, you made the right ones.

  #

  When Shauna arrived home at ten, she’d found a dozen white roses in a vintage glass vase on her doorstep. She didn’t have to read the card to know they were from Austin. He’d sent her a dozen white roses before each of their dates. The first time, she found the gesture sweet and romantic, after, the flowers themselves seemed to demand more of her than she could give.

  She brought them inside and put them on the table in front of the bay window. She sighed and looked at the card.

  Dearest Shauna,

  Thank you for being my escort tomorrow at the charity ball. You will certainly be the most beautiful woman present. No strings.

  Love, Austin

  Shauna was hot and miserable. She went upstairs and took a cool shower, then put on an over-sized, threadbare T-shirt that must have been her brother Brian’s because it said USMC on the front, but she couldn’t remember when she’d obtained it.

  She sat down in the dining room with the too-loud air conditioner and ate chocolate ice cream out of a large bowl. She was feeling lonely and guilty, and considered calling her brother Mike, who’d be getting off his shift at midnight. She doubted she’d sleep much.

  She wished she’d been more emphatic with Austin about the damn dress. She dreaded what he’d pick out for her—not because it wouldn’t be gorgeous, but because it would be outrageously expensive and she knew now where his money came from. And she’d never wear it again. She’d probably want to burn it.

 

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