Into the Dark (The Cincinnati Series Book 5) (Cincinnati 5)

by Karen Rose

  ‘I get it, Dani. That’s the definition of safe house,’ Maddie teased. ‘I’ll send you the paperwork by email. Do you have access to a printer?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll fill it out and have one of the guards deliver it to you. Thank you.’

  ‘This really is my pleasure. Bye, Dani.’

  Dani ended the call and was about to tell Diesel about it, but he was readjusting Joshua on his shoulder so that he could bang away on his laptop. He was digging deeper into the casino’s network. He’d told her that much.

  Which leaves LJM Industries and the Mastersons for me. Marcus’s search the night before had revealed that Wesley was a cop with Cleveland PD and Grant was an accountant. She’d start with the cop. He was unlikely to be at his desk – Deacon, Adam, and Scarlett rarely were – but she hoped the switchboard would be able to connect her to Wesley Masterson’s cell.

  Taking herself into the room she shared with Diesel, she sat on the bed and fired up her own laptop, Googling the number for the Cleveland PD switchboard. She expected that her request to be connected with Detective Wesley Masterson would net her either the guy’s cell or his voicemail, so she was surprised when a woman answered.

  ‘This is Detective Tracy Simon. How can I help you?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Dani said. ‘I’d like to speak with Detective Masterson.’

  ‘He’s out of the office. Can I take a message?’

  Dani blinked at her curt reply. ‘When do you expect him to return?’

  A beat of hesitation. ‘This is his partner. Can I ask who’s calling?’

  ‘My name is Dr Dani Novak. I’m calling from Cincinnati on a personal matter. Can you have him call me when he gets back?’ She gave the woman her cell phone number, knowing that Adam had her phone in his possession and would let her know if she had any missed calls.

  ‘Of course,’ Detective Simon said. ‘Thank you for calling.’

  Dani ended the call and frowned. ‘That was weird,’ she muttered.

  ‘What was?’ Diesel asked from the doorway. He wasn’t carrying Joshua anymore.

  ‘Where’s Joshua?’

  ‘I just put him to bed.’

  ‘Did your arms finally get tired?’ she asked.

  Diesel looked offended. ‘My arms did not get tired.’ Offense gave way to sheepishness. ‘I needed to swear at my computer. I didn’t want him to hear.’

  She smiled at him. ‘Good call, then, putting him to bed.’

  He came over to sit on the bed next to her. ‘You got the ball rolling at CPS?’

  ‘I did. Maddie’s going to pull strings to fast-track my paperwork.’

  ‘Good.’ He leaned in to kiss her mouth and she hummed against his lips.

  ‘I like this.’

  ‘Told you,’ he said smugly.

  ‘No,’ she replied primly. ‘You said you could make me happy. Which you are.’

  ‘Good.’ He kissed her again until they were both breathless. He pulled away, adjusting himself, which made her even more absurdly happy. ‘So what was weird?’ he asked.

  ‘I called Cleveland PD to talk to Wesley Masterson. He’s one of the Brothers Grim,’ she added, because Diesel hadn’t been with her when Jeremy had visited the night before. She told him about the partner’s response. ‘It’s like she wasn’t expecting him to come back.’

  He considered it. ‘Didn’t you say the other brother is an accountant? Call him.’

  ‘His name is Grant.’ She looked up his firm and placed the call, putting it on speaker.

  ‘Hello, Masterson Accounting. This is MaryBeth. How can I help you?’

  ‘May I speak to Grant Masterson, please?’ Dani asked.

  ‘He’s not in the office at the moment.’

  ‘All right.’ Lunchtime, she signed to Diesel. ‘Can I leave my number and ask him to call me back? It’s urgent.’

  MaryBeth sniffed. ‘It’s always urgent this time of year. He’ll get to your tax return as soon as he can.’

  ‘This isn’t about my taxes,’ Dani said, irritated with the woman but maintaining her calm. ‘It’s personal. When do you expect him back?’

  Another beat of hesitation, almost identical to the one when she’d spoken to Wesley Masterson’s partner. ‘Who is this?’ MaryBeth demanded.

  ‘My name is Dr Dani Novak. I’m calling from Cincinnati.’

  The woman’s intake of breath was audible. ‘Give me your number. I’ll let him know when he returns.’

  Dani gave MaryBeth her cell, then pressed, ‘When do you expect him back?’

  ‘Mr Masterson has taken some vacation time. I’ll pass on your message.’ The line clicked as MaryBeth ended the call.

  Diesel’s brows had lifted. ‘An accountant doesn’t just “take vacation” a month before April fifteenth. They’re pedal to the metal, practically living in their offices.’

  ‘I know. I wonder if he took his wife on vacation with him.’

  Diesel reached for her laptop. ‘I can find his home number.’

  Dani didn’t doubt that for a moment. ‘Go for it.’

  Less than a minute later, she was placing the call. She again put it on speaker.

  ‘Hello?’ a woman answered.

  ‘Hi. I’m trying to reach Grant Masterson. Is he home?’

  ‘No, he’s not,’ the woman said. ‘This is his wife.’ Dani didn’t miss the emphasis. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I hope so. My name is Dr Dani Novak. I’m calling from Cincinnati.’

  The woman sucked in a panicked breath. ‘Oh my God. Is he okay? What happened? I told him to get a hotel.’

  Dani looked at Diesel, her eyes wide. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Masterson, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m not your husband’s doctor. I’ve never met him. This is a personal call. I’d like to ask him about Laurel.’

  Dead silence. ‘What?’ the woman finally asked.

  ‘Laurel,’ Dani said gently. ‘Your husband’s sister.’

  ‘I know who Laurel is,’ the woman snapped. ‘Do you have her? Is she alive?’

  Dani stared at Diesel, who shrugged. ‘No, I don’t have her,’ Dani said. ‘And I’m sorry, but I don’t know if she’s alive or not. I take it you haven’t seen her either.’

  The woman sighed. ‘No. She went missing from Cincinnati a year and a half ago. Her roommate told us that she’d run off with her boyfriend.’

  ‘She was a med student.’

  ‘She was,’ the woman agreed sadly. ‘Threw it all away.’

  ‘You believe the roommate then?’ Dani asked cautiously.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mrs Masterson admitted. ‘I know my brother-in-law is convinced that she didn’t leave of her own free will. Why? How are you connected to Laurel, Dr Novak?’

  Dani hesitated. ‘I’m not,’ she admitted. ‘Not directly. But I am connected to something that might belong to her.’ The boys’ house, she signed to Diesel, who shook his head at her, but fondly. ‘Can you have your husband call me? It’s very important.’

  ‘Of course.’ A baby started crying in the background. ‘I need to go.’

  Dani sighed when the call ended. ‘I did bad?’

  He smiled at her. ‘The boys’ house? Really?’

  ‘Well . . . LJM owns the house that should belong to the boys. It was their father’s house first. And I’m connected to the boys. So I’m connected to the house and LJM. LJM is Laurel. So yes. Really.’

  His smile became indulgent. ‘Is that the story you’re sticking to?’

  She pretended to pout. ‘Fine. I panicked.’

  ‘Then I take back my comment about you giving up medicine to be a PI. You should keep your day job.’

  She laughed. ‘So noted.’

  He traced his fingertip across her smiling cheeks. ‘You are so pretty when you laugh.’

  ‘I’ve d
one it a lot more often the past few days.’

  ‘Good. Who are you calling next?’

  Dani pulled his hand from her face. ‘I can’t think when you touch me like that.’

  His dark eyes lit up with unfettered joy. ‘Outstanding.’ He waggled his brows. ‘Do you want to take a break from thinking?’

  She kissed his fingers, chuckling. ‘Yes, but now is probably not the best time. We’ll take a break from thinking later, once Michael’s gone to sleep.’

  Diesel sobered. ‘Yeah. I know.’ He lay on his side, propping himself on his elbow. ‘So who will you call next?’

  ‘I thought maybe the university or her old high school. Maybe Wesley Masterson is wrong and she did leave of her own free will. Maybe Laurel’s communicated with some of her friends.’

  ‘Lots of maybes,’ Diesel said, ‘but all good questions. You need help?’

  ‘No, I think I’ve got this, and I need something to do or I’ll go stir crazy. I’m not used to sitting still.’

  ‘Me either. Especially when sitting still doesn’t give me what I’m looking for.’

  ‘What were you looking for? You were staring at your laptop like you were trying to hypnotize it.’

  He snorted. ‘I wish. I had to do it the old-fashioned way. I was looking for other databases on the casino’s server and found several, which is normal. One is for email. There’s also an HR file with all the employee records, including salaries, overtime, payroll, et cetera, plus an inventory database and one for their VIP clients. We’ll come back to that one later. All those databases are normal for a company doing business.’

  ‘What’s not normal?’

  ‘The super-secret database that only two people have access to – Scott King and Richard Fischer. Richard’s the owner of the riverboat.’

  ‘Oh. Is it a security thing? King was the security manager, right?’

  ‘Yes, he was the security manager, but I don’t know if this is for security. Maybe, but in my experience, the general manager would also have access, as would the IT manager. They don’t. I’m doing the same kind of password search I did last night.’

  Her lips twitched. ‘The Ritz cracker.’

  He grinned and her heart did a little stutter-hop in her chest. He was the handsomest man when he grinned like that. Well, he was handsome all the time, but he got that light in his eyes when he grinned. ‘Exactly,’ he said.

  She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. ‘I seem to recall passing the time quite pleasurably while Ritz did its cracking last night.’

  He drew in a deep breath. ‘You’re evil.’

  She kissed his ear. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ he growled, and she very nearly went back on her resolution to wait until Michael was asleep.

  ‘You’re right. I’m not sorry at all.’ She nuzzled his neck. ‘For what it’s worth, you’re testing my resolve. A lot.’

  He laughed and rolled off the bed, coming to his feet like a graceful dancer. ‘Good. Serves you right.’

  ‘It really does. What are you going to do now?’

  ‘What I’ve done for the past year to work off my sexual frustration. Knit.’

  Her mouth fell open. ‘That’s why you knit?’

  He nodded, amused. ‘Well, it’s a general stress reliever, but mostly sexual stress, yes. I’ve made you so many pairs of mittens this year.’

  She clapped her hands, delighted. ‘I can’t wait to wear them.’ She put her laptop down and caught him at the door, pulling his head down for another kiss. ‘Thank you for the shawl you made me last year. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘I want you to wear it,’ he murmured.

  ‘I have. I wore it to Meredith’s Christmas party.’

  He chuckled darkly. ‘That’s not how I visualized you when I was making it.’

  She slid her hands up his chest, letting herself enjoy the flex of his pecs under her palms. ‘No?’

  ‘No. I saw you wearing the shawl and nothing else.’

  A sensual shiver danced over her skin and her hips thrust forward of their own volition. ‘God, Diesel.’ She clasped her hands at the back of his neck and pulled his head down, bringing their mouths together hard. The kiss was hot and raw and she wanted nothing more than to lock the door and rip his clothes off.

  ‘You tempt me,’ he whispered against her lips when they came up for air. Then he took a firm step back. ‘Get to work. Call Laurel’s friends. I’ll see you later.’

  Twenty-two

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 2.30 P.M.

  Grant didn’t check the caller ID as he answered his cell. ‘Yeah?’ he mumbled, staring at the book he’d found, the page covered with Wesley’s handwriting.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Cora asked, the panic in her voice jolting him back to reality.

  ‘I’m okay.’ No, I’m not okay. ‘I just . . . I’ll tell you when I see you.’

  ‘Grant, come home. Now.’

  That got his attention. ‘Why? What’s wrong with the kids?’

  ‘Nothing, they’re fine. But this lady called. Her name was Dani Novak. She said she was a doctor. In Cincinnati. At first I thought something had happened to you, but she said it was about Laurel.’

  Dani Novak. Grant let out a slow breath. She was the woman whose house had been attacked last night by Scott King. And now she was calling him . . . ‘About Laurel?’

  ‘Yes. I looked her up, Dr Novak, I mean. She went to UC’s med school, too. Maybe she knew Laurel from there. Maybe she knows where Laurel is.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That she was connected to something that belonged to Laurel. She left her cell number. I told her that you weren’t home. Grant, what the hell is happening?’

  Grant stared at the book, then at the world globe that he’d found on the desk in Wesley’s office, the sphere now split into halves. He’d known as soon as he found the globe that that was where Wesley had hidden something important. A battered world globe was where they’d hidden their treasures when they were kids.

  He hadn’t expected a call from Dani Novak, though. ‘Wesley came here looking for Laurel.’ He still hoped, even though everything he’d found said otherwise.

  ‘I know that. We figured that on Saturday. Grant, I’m scared. What’s going on?’

  ‘I think Wes stopped looking for Laurel,’ Grant whispered, his throat thick.

  ‘Oh God.’ Cora was quiet for a long moment. ‘She’s dead?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I think so. And I think he found the man who killed her.’

  Cora’s swallow was audible. ‘Is that man dead?’

  Grant looked at the three names on the page. Detective Bert Stuart, Anatoly Markov, and Clinton Stern. Anatoly Markov’s name had a line drawn through it. As did Stuart’s and Stern’s. All with dates. The date next to Detective Stuart’s name matched up to the obituary’s account of the day he’d died. ‘I’m pretty sure he is.’

  Cora stifled a sob. ‘Oh my God, Grant. Who was it?’

  ‘You remember Detective Stuart, the one who said he’d filed the missing person’s report for Laurel? He didn’t.’

  ‘What do you mean? You mean that he lied? Why would he?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe he was bribed. Maybe he was in on it.’

  ‘And Wesley killed him?’

  With the unregistered gun in his safe, missing three bullets. Three names with lines through them. Three bullets. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Grant.’ Cora was sobbing openly now. And so was Grant.

  ‘I know, baby,’ he whispered. ‘I know. I need to give this information to the . . .’ He almost said police, but he wasn’t sure who was trustworthy. That detective who’d managed Laurel’s missing person report hadn’t been. ‘To the right people,’ he decided, wiping his eyes wi
th the back of his hand. ‘But I’m going to take photos of the documents I found and upload them to a Cloud account. User name is where we had our first date. Password is the date you first told me you loved me.’

  ‘I love you now.’ Desperation filled her tone. ‘Don’t tell me things like user names and passwords like you’re not coming home. Come home now!’

  ‘I will come home. But I have to get this information to the right people. Cora . . .’ He faltered and cleared his throat, his voice hoarse and shaken. ‘Laurel was my little sister.’ And Wes was my big brother. Because now, Grant was pretty sure that Wesley was dead, too.

  Cora’s sobs were breaking his heart. ‘Your children need you alive. I need you alive.’

  ‘I’ll be okay.’ It was an empty promise. He knew that. So did she. ‘Send me Dr Novak’s phone number. I’ll call her.’

  ‘Okay,’ Cora said through her tears. ‘Please come home, Grant.’

  ‘I will. I promise. I love you. Kiss the kids for me.’

  He ended the call and turned to the next page in the book he’d found in the globe. It was actually a diary, bound in green leather and decorated with purple flowers. Grant knew instantly why Wesley had chosen it – the purple flowers were Texas mountain laurel. Their sister’s favorite.

  The next page was filled with another list of names. This one longer. All the names were recorded in Wesley’s chicken-scratch scrawl. There were columns of names, dates, and . . . items. All kinds of items. One name stood out over the others.

  John Brewer. He appeared twice. The first time was the week before Brewer had disappeared. The second time was the day he’d last been seen. The same day that Wesley last made contact with his Cleveland PD partner.

  Grant now had proof that John Brewer had somehow, somewhere crossed paths with Wes. It had to have been on the riverboat. It and its security manager, Scott King, were the only common denominators. Where he’d only dreaded the possibility before, he was now certain that Wes was one of the bodies the police had pulled from the river on Saturday morning.

  His gut roiled and he had to swallow back the bile that burned his throat. One of the seven dismembered bodies.