Besides, Cynthia Rogers’s association with Taylorsford was the least of my concerns. While it might be interesting to ferret out her connection to my Uncle Andrew or even Paul Dassin, such research wouldn’t be likely to help the authorities in the Oscar Selvaggio case. Not to mention that although I hadn’t come into work until noon, I was exhausted and anxious to drive straight home once we closed down the building.
When I reached my car, which was parked in the library’s back lot, I was surprised to see Ethan Payne standing in front of the driver’s side door.
“Amy, hello. I hope I didn’t startle you.”
“A little,” I said, lifting my chin to look him in the eye. “We just closed. What are you doing here at this time of night?”
Ethan ran his fingers through his short hair. “I was actually waiting for you. I need you to drive me home.”
“Excuse me?” I pulled my keys from my purse. “Drive you home? Why, and how did you get here?”
“I had to drop my car by the shop after my shift. It needs a new battery. They promised they’d get to it early in the morning.” Ethan’s abashed expression was almost comical. “The friend that drove me here from the shop promised she’d pick me up tomorrow.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why didn’t your friend just drive you home?”
“Because I had to see you. Well”—Ethan held up his hands, palms out—“actually someone else wants to see you. I was going to stop by after work and talk to you, give you directions and all that, but then my car died and I was afraid the jump would only get me as far as the shop …”
I waved my hands at him, jangling my keys. “Whoa, what the heck are you talking about? Who needs to see me?”
“Your brother.”
Staring into Ethan’s wide eyes, I exhaled loudly before speaking. “Scott is at your house? Why? No, don’t answer that. Just tell me why he suddenly needs to see me at eight o’clock at night, when he’s been perfectly willing to remain incommunicado for days.”
“I don’t know.” Ethan looked down and shuffled his feet. “He just asked me to bring you. Didn’t really tell me why.”
“Has he been staying with you this whole time? I saw him drive off Thursday evening, but no one in my family has heard from him since.” I closed my fingers over my keys.
“Yeah, he’s been at my place. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t call or text anyone, but I think maybe he was hiding out for some reason.” Ethan squared his muscular shoulders. “He begged me not to mention where he was to anyone but didn’t say why.”
I pursed my lips and considered Scott’s request to see me. I wasn’t worried about driving Ethan home. I knew I could trust him. Scott, though, was another story.
What game is he playing? I thought as I motioned toward the car. “Get in, then. You’ll have to play navigator, since I don’t exactly know where you live.”
“No problem.” Ethan jogged around to the passenger’s side, sliding in after I unlocked the doors and climbed into the driver’s seat.
We drove outside of town, where, following Ethan’s instructions, I turned onto a paved road, and then onto Logging Road, one of the many gravel-covered roads that led up into the mountains.
“You’re out in the country, for sure,” I said, as my car lurched over the washboard surface of the road.
“I like the solitude.” As Ethan stared out into the dark expanse of pines that lined the road, a ghostly image of his face was reflected back by the glass of the side window. “Slow down; my driveway is just ahead.”
I turned onto the dirt road Ethan indicated. As I rounded the corner in the drive, his house, screened from the road by tall, spindly pines, came into view. It wasn’t the log cabin I’d expected but rather a simple brick ranch with a wooden deck that ran from the front door around the side of the house.
“Let me go in first,” Ethan said, bounding out of the car as soon as I parked.
I glanced up at the picture window that looked out over the front yard, noticing the flick of a curtain. Scott’s checking to make sure who it is, I thought, pondering the need for this type of caution as I made my way up the steps to reach the deck and front door.
Ethan waited for me, holding the door so I could enter in front of him.
The front entrance opened onto a long, narrow living room, with a brick fireplace filling one side wall. Seated in a worn but comfortable-looking leather recliner, Scott met my gaze with a wan smile.
“You don’t need to pretend you were lounging there this whole time,” I said. “I saw you peering out the window when we arrived.”
Scott’s smile faded. “I’ve been trained to take precautions,” he said, as a silky-coated collie leapt up from a dog bed near the hearth and padded over to greet Ethan and me.
“This is Cassie.” Ethan patted the dog. “She’s a little wary of strangers, but well trained.”
“You mean she won’t bite, I hope,” I said, holding out my fingers for the dog to sniff before I stroked her head.
“She never does that. Not when I’m giving off vibes that someone is a friend. Now, if someone tried to harm me …” Ethan allowed this thought to hang in the air.
I stared into the dog’s liquid brown eyes. “All bets are off? But she seems like a good girl,” I added, giving Cassie another pat before crossing the room to stand in front of Scott. “Unlike you, who’s been a very bad brother.”
Scott’s expression grew somber as he met my gaze. “I didn’t mean to be. Circumstances dictated that I disappear for a while.”
I placed my balled fists on my hips. “One little text letting me and the rest of the family know that you were okay would’ve been enough. Aunt Lydia and our parents have been worried sick.”
“Sorry,” Scott said, although I noticed that there wasn’t an ounce of contrition tingeing his tone.
“So why the sudden need to talk to me?”
Scott gestured toward a rocking chair close to the recliner. “Sit down and I’ll explain. As much as I can, anyway.”
I shot him a suspicious look before settling into the rocker.
“I’ll just go and rustle up some food,” Ethan said as he strode through the archway that led into the kitchen, Cassie trotting at his heels.
I leaned back, allowing my chair to rock a few times. A comforting motion, I thought, before I turned my head to look at Scott. “Spill. What sent you into hiding without a word to your family?”
“Work, of course.” Scott took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses with the tail of his charcoal-gray shirt. “It was actually an order from above. Not something I could ignore.”
“You were told to disappear?”
“For a few days.” Slipping his glasses back on, Scott finally turned his head to meet my intent gaze. “I was doing surveillance on someone and the powers that be were afraid my target had gotten wind of me. They wanted me to vanish so our suspect wouldn’t do the same. Others are tracking them now.”
“You mean you messed up?” I asked, not bothering to temper the incredulity in my tone. I’d never known Scott to undertake a task without completing it to perfection.
“Not exactly. Someone I didn’t expect to recognize me did.”
“Wait.” The memory of Oscar Selvaggio’s reaction to seeing my brother at the party resurfaced. “It was the art dealer, right? The one who was murdered.”
“Yes, Selvaggio. I knew as soon as I saw his face that he’d remembered me from a brief encounter a few years ago.” Scott shrugged. “I didn’t think he would make the connection. I looked different when he met me before.”
I pushed off with my foot, allowing my chair to rock slowly. “When did you run into Selvaggio in the past?”
“It was a few years back, when I was working with a task force tracking some art thieves who also dabbled in financial fraud. Selvaggio had done some business with them, and while we didn’t really have any reason to suspect him of being involved in cybercrimes or money laundering, we did question him for le
ads on the real criminals.” Scott shifted in his chair, causing the worn leather to squeak. “But I didn’t interview him directly. I’d just tagged along because I was working the cyber side of things. The other agents thought they might need me to access his computer. I was in the background the entire time, not to mention wearing contacts and dressed much differently.” Scott’s lips quirked into a sardonic smile. “They had me outfitted like the typical hacker-turned-consultant—spiked hair, black leather jacket, and ripped jeans.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help but smile in return. “Selvaggio must’ve taken notice, though, to recognize you when you appeared at the party.”
“I suppose his work in buying and selling art made him more visually observant than most,” Scott said, his smile fading.
“So you were sent here to keep tabs on him for some reason.” I held up my hand, palm out. “You don’t have to tell me what that is. I know you probably can’t divulge too much.”
“It’s true, I can’t say much. But I can tell you that Oscar Selvaggio was not my real target.”
I slammed my heel into the floor, halting the movement of my rocker. “You were investigating Kurt?”
Scott shook his head. “I don’t know about anyone else, but no, I wasn’t.”
“Really?” I slumped against the wooden back of the chair. “I can’t think who else …” The image of skeletal, dark-haired man flashed through my mind. “There was a man I ran into, quite literally, when I visited Kurt not long ago.” I cast Scott a glance. “I guess you could say he ran into me, since he shoved me aside when I was at the front door. A few days later he stopped by the library to apologize, which was also a little weird, since it meant he had to track me down. Told me his name was Lance Dalbec. Tall guy but not heavily built, although he looked like he was all lean muscle. He has dark hair and an angular face.”
A shadow flitted across Scott’s face. “Not my specific target, but he’s definitely on my radar. He’s a career criminal who always seems to slip through our nets. And yeah, he sometimes goes by the name of Lance Dalbec, although he uses other aliases as well.”
“He and Kurt had an altercation. I didn’t see it, just the result, after Dalbec knocked Kurt to the floor. I wanted to call the authorities, but Kurt ordered me not to.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Scott said dryly. “Kurt Kendrick has a history of helping various federal agencies, but only when it suits him. And while that buys him some goodwill and several instances of the authorities looking the other way, his business practices are a little … murky, to say the least.”
“I’m aware of that,” I said. “But obviously he isn’t one of this Dalbec guy’s pals.”
“Definitely not.” Scott held up a finger as Ethan reentered the room.
“I’ll disappear again if that’s best,” Ethan said. “But I thought maybe you’d like some water or coffee or something. I’d offer wine or beer, but I know Amy has to drive home.”
I slid forward on the wooden rocker seat. “Thanks, but I don’t need anything right now.”
“I’m not driving, but I’ll wait until Amy leaves to grab a beer.” Scott offered Ethan a warm smile. “I don’t want to taunt my big sis, at least not right now.”
“So nice of you,” I said, fighting the urge to stick my tongue out at him as I had when we were kids.
Ethan touched his forehead in a little salute. “I’ll leave you alone again, then.”
“So you and Ethan …” I said, as the other man headed back into the kitchen.
“Are friends,” Scott said firmly. “And he very kindly offered me a place to hide out when I explained my dilemma to him. Not that I told him all the details, of course.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Scott’s lips twitched. “However, I think I may ask him to be my date at the wedding, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” I studied Scott’s calm face. “But I thought you were going to escort Karla. She doesn’t have a date, you know.”
“Ethan and I can do that together, don’t you think? Besides, from what I hear, he’s a much better dancer than I am, if she’s mainly needing a partner.”
“That’s part of it, although she’ll probably dance with Richard quite a bit. Not that I mind,” I added when Scott shot me a questioning look.
“No jealousy there, I take it?”
“There’s nothing to be jealous about. She and Richard are just friends, like you and Ethan.”
“Maybe that isn’t the most accurate comparison.” Scott flashed me a smile. “I hope we can be more, eventually. I wouldn’t want to think that Karla felt that way about Richard.”
“She doesn’t,” I said firmly. “And he doesn’t. I mean, they had plenty of time to explore those feelings in the past, and nothing ever came of it. I honestly think they relate more like brother and sister, especially because they’re both only children.”
“That makes sense.” Scott leaned forward, gripping his knees. “Getting back to the issue of my work, I can at least tell you that I should be free to return to Aunt Lydia’s soon. I shouldn’t have to hide out much longer, as my colleagues are closing in on our target as we speak. In fact, Fred Nash …”
I leapt to my feet. “What? You’re working with Nash? I thought he was working for Hugh Chen.”
“He is, as a cover. But his real mission is aligned with my agency’s goals.” Scott looked up at me, his eyes very bright behind the lenses of his glasses. “I thought you might have figured that out. Nash signed on to help us, while also working on Hugh’s cases, because he has a connection to the individual we’re ultimately attempting to bring in.”
I stared down at him, my arms crossed over my chest. “A connection? Are you talking about his former work on a high-level task force? But that was intended to bring in some drug kingpin, or rather queenpin, I suppose. Someone called Esmerelda.” I frowned. “I have to tell you that I’ve heard that name before, but it was someone in the past. I don’t know what they’d possibly have to do with current events.”
Scott shrugged. “My suspicion is that it’s a code name that’s been used by more than one person. So it might not be the same woman who was active back in the sixties and seventies. But it’s definitely the same gang.”
“That’s what you’re trying to track?”
“And shut down,” Scott said. “We’ve set up a joint task force that includes federal agency reps as well as some local law enforcement and a few contract players, like Nash. This Esmerelda criminal network has been on our radar for some time, but their leader, whoever it is, has always escaped capture and even exposure. It was something law enforcement had been working on for years, but it’s taken on new urgency now, because Esmerelda’s organization has started dealing in fentanyl as well as other drugs.”
“That’s a lot more dangerous, isn’t it?”
“Definitely. The truth is, there’ve been far too many deaths associated with the Esmerelda gang’s drug sales recently. It sent our efforts to capture the head honcho into high gear.”
“You really think this bunch of criminals will just disappear if you jail their leader?”
Scott stood up to face me. “No, but if we can get the leader to talk, maybe we can round up the rest.”
“You mean you’ll cut a deal with her.”
“Hard to say.” Scott laid a hand on my arm. “I’m not involved with that side of things.”
“You’re just the tracker, not the one who decides what happens after you catch someone?”
“Exactly.” Scott lifted his hand to sweep the fall of dark hair away from the top rim of his glasses. “I help locate people and collect the digital evidence to cement a case against them. What happens after that is out of my hands.”
“Were you or Fred Nash ever looking into Kurt? Or was that just a smoke screen?”
“I wasn’t. I don’t know about Nash. He may have been doing so as part of his contract with Hugh.”
I looked my brother up and down, taking in his unprepossessing appearance and the wan smile that curved his lips. “I thought you were just a cybersecurity expert, working behind a computer screen.”
“I am, but also”—Scott’s smile broadened—“a little more. I don’t mind you knowing that much. But I hope you won’t feel the urge to confess everything to Mom and Dad, or Aunt Lydia. You know they’d just worry.”
“I’ll keep it to myself. But only because I think you should tell them. They might worry less if they knew the truth. Especially if you plan to disappear from time to time.”
“I’ll think about it.” Scott tipped his head and examined me with a critical eye. “And you should tell me when you stumble onto dangerous information. I’m not sure how you even knew that Esmerelda existed, but as you’ve said, this wasn’t news to you.”
I thought back to the last murder investigation I’d been involved in. “The problem is, I don’t always know the information is dangerous when I uncover it. But I take your point.”
“Good. Now head on home and tell Aunt Lydia that everything is fine. Call Mom and Dad and tell them the same. Let them know I’ll be back at Aunt Lydia’s soon. Definitely before the wedding.”
“Very well.” I took hold of one of his hands. “But you’d better promise to never disappear like this again.”
Scott shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t promise that. All I can say is that I will try to let you know it’s a work thing. Somehow.” He squeezed my fingers before releasing my hand. “Maybe we need a code word?”
“How about what we used to say when one of us overheard that the other was just about to catch it from Mom or Dad?”
Scott grinned. “Okay. Take a chill pill it is.”
“Not that we ever got in trouble,” I said, arching my eyebrows.
“Of course not. We were perfect angels at all times.” Scott raised his hand. “As God is my witness.”
I pointed upward. “Don’t call down lightning on poor Ethan’s house.”
“At least he knows how to extinguish a fire,” Scott said, giving me a hug. “Go on, tell the fam I’m fine and that I’ll talk to them soon.”
A Deadly Edition Page 20