No Feign No Gain

by Carrie Ann Knox

  I closed my eyes and tried to let my mind drift somewhere else, anywhere else. Mere hours had passed since I had been face-to-face with the true head of the local crime family and lived to tell about it. But as we drove away from the bomb I had just dropped on the entire local justice system, I realized my world was forever changed. Ineffably altered.

  My burgeoning career in audiology had been everything to me. But the likelihood of me overcoming all the recent events and returning to that career, reputation intact, was growing dimmer by the day. And I wasn’t sure who I would be without it.

  Maybe we would be able to right some wrongs, one day. If everything went just the way we hoped. But I knew, deep down, that things for me would never, ever be the same.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I had thought the waiting would be the worst part. Pondering what was going to happen, wondering if we had succeeded in our nefarious secret mission to undermine justice for the sake of supposedly even greater justice. But no. Actually seeing it work, seeing the results of our duplicity, my duplicity, come to soul-crushing fruition . . . that had to be the worst part.

  They had been right, about all of it. It hadn’t taken long. Once word of my confession got out, fairly instantly, a horde of lawyers had swooped in from every direction and made their case. Demanding, outraged. The mobsters must be set free, immediately. Every last one of them.

  And one by one, most of them were.

  Sure, a few of the guys didn’t get quite so lucky. Rock-solid evidence still existed for a portion of the gang, leaving them watching enviously from prison. But they and their confessions weren’t numerous enough to hold up the rest, who had been charged, at least partly, on the report of their buddies that had hung them out to dry. Once freedoms were assured, the tales those traitors had told were quickly rescinded. Suddenly, no one knew anything for sure anymore. Everyone had amnesia.

  Meanwhile, prosecutors across the city were tearing their hair out, trying to stop the hemorrhaging of the local legal system. But there was just no stemming the flow of criminals. They had found a loose thread and were going to keep pulling until the whole thing was a useless pile of nothing.

  The city roiled. Fear of violent criminals stalking the streets en masse infused every news story. Clip after clip of their releases played on every broadcast, turning up the heat on the spectacle more by the hour. People were angry, and my whereabouts were discussed with breathless regularity. I owed them all plenty of answers.

  Tucked away in my new safe house, I watched it all from afar. There would be no public appearances for me for a while. Too risky, given the police department’s demand for extensive questioning regarding my purported misdeeds. And the public’s new preoccupation with witnessing my painful demise, of course. We had to hold them off.

  I checked every news report with bated breath, both dreading and eagerly anticipating the news we needed. One by one the mobsters waltzed out, grinning like fools. And then, finally, the announcement.

  Salvatore, they reported, was proclaiming vindication as a respectable businessman and citizen falsely accused. The city watched, aghast, as he marched through the ring of reporters crowding the courthouse doors, head held high. Free as a bird, as requested. All due to me.

  Within minutes Lucas came bounding into the room, energized. “You did it,” he announced. “He’s out, and everything is in place. If it all holds up as expected, Sloan should be released any minute—and soon this whole thing’ll be over. For real this time. And all because of you.”

  I had to admit, I did enjoy the glow of Lucas's admiration. The megawatt smile was back, and it was all because of me. But I didn’t want to celebrate just yet. I couldn’t relax. There was more to be done. More to go wrong.

  “It all depends on you guys getting to Vinny, though,” I said, trying not to sound too pessimistic about bringing down the true mob boss. “That’s the only way you come out ahead. You really think Sal will just go straight to him?”

  “Not really.” Lucas shrugged, enthusiasm fading only slightly. “I agree, he’s probably smarter than that. But there’s gonna be a fight for control now that Vinny’s out of hiding. A transition of power, at the very least. His secret’s out. And we can follow the chatter. We’ll have taps on all the newly-released phones and know their whereabouts now. Someone’ll tip us off, don’t worry.”

  I sighed and sat back, more than ready to allow some of his enthusiasm to rub off. To finally feel the glow of some good news for a change.

  It didn’t come.

  The door burst open again. “Great job on the press conference.” Hudson strode across the room to stand at attention in front of me, hands on hips. “Seems to have worked. But we have some other intel, too. Your boy Grant has been released.”

  My eyes widened. “Because of this?”

  He shook his head. “Looks like the ‘rents paid up. Mom and pop moneybags just made a big bank transfer from afar and he showed up back at home, no worse for wear.”

  I took a deep breath. “At least that’s over, then. Were we right, that he was in on it?”

  “Every step of the way.” Hudson grimaced. “Capped off by the ransom money being suspiciously split in half as soon as the wire transfer hit.”

  Lucas moved closer, his eyes narrowed. “We can try to track the money, if you want. Could be pretty good proof of Grant’s involvement in a fraudulent scheme, if we can tie it directly to him.”

  I looked away, exhaustion setting in. “I just want to stay out of it. I’ve had enough of digging into things that are none of my business for a while. Nothing good seems to come of it for me.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Hudson said. His voice lowered. “And unfortunately, while we’re on that subject . . . ”

  My head jerked up.

  His face told me he didn’t really want to have this next conversation. “There has been another little snag for you. Nothing that I think we can’t clear up, of course. Once this is done and all.”

  My heart sank. I wasn’t sure there was any more I could take. Will it ever be done?

  “We’ve continued to monitor your phone for you,” he continued, “and you received a message from your boss.” He moved closer, his face softening. “Unfortunately, they’re rescinding your permanent job offer, given all the news. And it seems you will need to get your final clinical hours elsewhere. They have . . . concerns. About you coming back.”

  Work. I had completely forgotten about it, with everything going on. “I’m not going to graduate,” I croaked, my voice no longer working properly. My throat tightened with panic. I’m never going to be an audiologist. I closed my eyes and let the news settle in. My life was a mess. Everything was gone. And I didn’t even have my best friend by my side to help.

  I was now completely and utterly alone. Not counting all the tough, take-charge men running all around, of course. Placating me. Assuring me it would all be okay. But it wasn’t their futures that had just gotten washed away in an instant.

  “But like I said, let’s just wait until everything dies down,” Hudson continued calmly. “I’m sure we can find a solution. Surely someone’ll allow you to get those last few hours of experience in. And then you’ll get right back on track.”

  “Sure,” I replied sourly. With a lifelong reputation for mischief, at best. And no permanent job lined up, either.

  Yep, right back on track.

  THIRTY-THREE

  As the hours ticked by and we waited, readied patience morphing into anxious impatience, my fog of depression began to slowly lift. At least the worst would be over shortly. The next call should be from Sloan’s captors, setting her free in gratitude. And I would soon have my friend back to help maneuver through the rest of the muck. It really would all be okay. Eventually.

  The mobster’s burner phone that had been warming my hand all day finally lit up with a text. But rather than the announcement
we’d been waiting for—it contained only an address and a time. Two p.m., somewhere in the city. No other message.

  The big meet.

  All the guys huddled around as we scoped out the location online, and immediately I knew what we were dealing with. We were to meet in an old industrial area—the same vacant industrial area where we had first documented Salvatore’s questionable business dealings months before. It had been a favorite spot for his after-hours activities. And it seemed like a message. In the end, nothing had really changed. They were already back on the old stomping grounds, taking charge once again.

  Despite their misgivings, everyone agreed I had to be the one to show up. I was supposed to be the only person involved in this little charade, the only one who knew of my lies on their behalf. No one else could do it. A driver would accompany me but stay in the car. I would make the approach alone and return with our friend, safe and sound.

  A fake-bearded Lucas insisted on driving me to the meet. I saw no reason to argue. Sloan was his family and it was just as important to him. His entire body was tense as we pulled into the crumbling parking lot. He watched the surroundings like a hawk through his dark aviator glasses, jaw working overtime while we waited for movement.

  Within minutes a black town car pulled in and stopped at the other side of the lot. My heart froze for a second as I envisioned Sloan springing from the back. But instead a suited Christopher emerged, looking serious. The tinted windows were too dark to make out other potential occupants.

  Lucas cursed under his breath and turned to me. A terse nod from him sent me out the door, ready to get this over with. I walked slowly across the lot, keeping pace with the smirking man headed toward me. We met in the middle and stared each other down.

  He pretended to tip a non-existent hat at me, his face admiring. “Have to hand it to you, that was some exquisite work there. So far, so good.”

  “Exactly, you got what you wanted,” I said confidently, summoning all my courage. “I did everything they asked. So now it’s my turn. You know what I’m here for.”

  Christopher chuckled in surprise. “I didn’t take you for the feisty one. Our girl must’ve been rubbing off on you, huh?”

  I stared, saying nothing. Trying to remember to breathe.

  He eyed me, taking my measure. “You’re right, you follow instructions well. So well, in fact, that I was sent to pass along another task for you.”

  I narrowed my eyes, alarm bells going off. “What do you mean, another task?”

  “Nothing major, don’t worry.” Christopher raised his hands in surrender. “No need to get upset here. Just a little favor, since we’re now friends and all. I’m certain Sloan would approve.”

  “Fine, I’ll consider it,” I replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “Once you hand her over.”

  Christopher laughed louder this time, a true cackle. “Nice try, that’s good. Keep it up, sharp and determined. You can use that determination to convince him. I’m sure it’ll take some work.”

  I blinked, trying to understand. “Convince who, what are you talking about? And where is Sloan?”

  “She’s been . . . delayed,” he said, watching me carefully. “But I promise, she’s just fine. We just have the matter of that one last teeny, tiny little favor. And then she’ll be all yours.”

  My blood began to boil as I stared him down, finally grasping what was happening. They’re playing me. She was not there, was never going to be there. And I was stuck.

  I steeled myself and stepped closer. “That’s not our deal.”

  “We did have a deal, that’s true.” He shook his head solemnly. “And I’m ashamed of myself, really. You see, I’m pretty good at making deals. That’s why they hired me. But my boss, well, he’s just not very good at keeping them. Always likes to push the envelope. Keep people on their toes.” He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, once his mind’s made up, there’s just no changing it. And right now he has his heart firmly set on meeting with a dear old friend. We just need you to get that friend to come with you next time. And then we’re all square. Promise this time.” His face brightened. “So what do you say, think can you make that happen?”

  “Depends,” I replied, confused and wary. “Who are we talking about?”

  “We came across something pretty interesting.” His face broke into a smug grin. “In Sloan’s apartment, the one she shared with her fiancé. Would you believe we’ve been desperately hoping to see him?”

  Joel? I swallowed. “But he’s . . . ”

  “Dead?” Christopher eyed me, suspicious. “I know.” He spread his hands wide. “But the thing is, we don’t really believe that no-longer-alive story anymore. It seems they’re just not buying it. So we need you to dig him out of whatever dark hole he’s been hiding in and produce him for us, and right away. It’s long past time we had a little chat.”

  My chest began to tighten with panic as I realized I was truly stuck now. How in the world can I produce someone . . . not alive? “I . . . I don’t . . .” I stammered.

  Christopher ignored my reaction and checked his watch dramatically. “Now I really am sorry to demand and run, but I do have to get going.” He looked up at me, one eyebrow cocked. “How about . . . this time tomorrow?”

  There was no time to deal with the dead guy conundrum. This was it. The chance for any further intel about Sloan’s whereabouts was now. And we needed clues. Something.

  I straightened my shoulders, trying to buy time. “No.”

  He stared back in surprise. “No?” A softer chuckle escaped. “And what does that mean?”

  “It means . . . ” What did it mean? I thought quickly and levelled my gaze at him. “It means I need some kind of proof. What assurance do I even have that Sloan is fine, as you say?”

  Christopher smirked. “Please, like I would let them hurt my dream girl.” He reached into his inner breast pocket. “No need to mention that part to her, though, huh?” His hand emerged with a phone. “But I had a feeling you might want something like that.”

  He held the phone out, eyebrows raised. Carefully, I took it from him and recognition hit immediately. It belonged to Sloan.

  He saw me take notice, a hint of a smile playing on his face. “She was kind enough to remove the password for us, so we could have a quick look around. Not quite as interesting as I had hoped.” He reached over to tap the dark screen. “But I did take the liberty of snapping you a fresh photo of our mutual friend, just this morning. No harm done, as you’ll see.”

  I turned it on and went immediately to the photo memory. And there, indeed, was a close-up of Sloan. She gazed ruefully at the camera, newspaper in hand. While she definitely looked annoyed, she did in fact appear fine and unharmed.

  “Now that we have that settled,” Christopher continued, “let’s get back to it, shall we? You’ve got some work to do. You can keep her phone, she won’t be needing it just yet. Just keep it handy and I’ll text you the place. This time tomorrow you can walk away with your friend, no strings this time. All you have to do is show up with our long-lost buddy Dominic.”

  Dominic?

  Who the heck is Dominic? I started to open my mouth to question, not knowing where to begin, but he raised his hand to cut me off.

  “You have my word,” he said, meeting my eyes with intent. “You just do what you need to do.” He turned and strolled back to his idling vehicle. The car pulled slowly away, leaving me standing in the middle of the lot, alone. With no earthly idea where to go from there.

  ***

  Lucas was cursing under his breath when I climbed back into the vehicle. I shut the door and avoided his gaze, dreading the next conversation. I clearly hadn’t retrieved his sort-of sister-in-law, or accomplished anything of use thus far, really. I had failed. We all had.

  But mostly me.

  “So,” I finally began. “Obviously, I
have some bad news.”

  “Yeah, that little weasel has it coming,” he sneered. “You just wait.”

  I paused, confused by his reaction. “He’s . . . not giving up Sloan yet. They want something first.”

  “I know. Just another wrench to throw in there. Like it wasn’t complicated enough already. Now we’re supposed to produce their dead guy.”

  I froze. “‘Wait, you were listening?”

  “Of course I was listening.” He waved off the question. “The question is, how do we play this from here?” Lucas crossed his arms and stared out the windows, his mind churning fast and far away.

  I began to pat myself down self-consciously. How could he have heard that? Had he bugged me?

  Maybe I didn’t want to know. There were more important things right now. “Well, to begin with . . . who in the world is Dominic? I thought Sloan was engaged to Joel.”

  He turned to face me soberly. “Dominic is Joel. My brother was working with the feds, too.”

  Lucas paused for my gasp. Everyone was always hiding something, in their world.

  Or was it our world, now? My world?

  “They must’ve seen something, a picture of them together,” he mused to himself. “And connected the dots.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he stared out at the horizon. “Or at least think they did.”

  My mind flashed to Sloan, mourning a framed photo after the break-in. Beneath the glass fragments sliding to the floor, beaming faces proudly displayed a sparkling ring. “The engagement photo,” I said. “There was this one—”

  “I know the one,” he interrupted, somber. “I took it.”

  “Well, it was moved during the break-in. Someone probably saw it. Before they smashed it.”