Jack of Hearts

by Diane Capri

  The blaze spread quickly as it consumed all the fuel inside the building, burning hotter by the minute. A moment later, with an ear-shattering blast, the fire broke through the roof and exploded up toward the heavens like holiday fireworks.

  Firefighters battled the conflagration with hoses aimed at the structure from all sides, but the heat seemed to absorb the water and kept on burning. If they couldn’t put the fire out soon, the entire building would be nothing but charred rubble before daylight.

  Another screaming siren traveled toward the inferno from the west, horns blaring when it slowed at the intersections until the firetruck pulled up on the side of the building and stopped.

  Personnel jumped out and went directly to work, joining the fight. They unfurled another fire hose and set it up to blast the west side of the bistro.

  Kim watched with a mixture of horrifying memories and professional detachment.

  “Coincidence?” Burke asked.

  “Orchid Thai Bistro just happens to burst into flames thirty minutes before we arrive here?” Kim replied. “I think not.”

  “It’s convenient that Reacher’s in the vicinity when Eleanor Duncan’s place is torched, huh?” Burke said.

  “So you’re thinking arson?” Kim asked, cocking her head. “Reacher set Eleanor’s place on fire? Why the hell would he do that?”

  “Can’t be anything else, can it?” Burke replied.

  “Of course it can.” Kim turned to look at Burke directly. “Maybe this is the trouble Reacher came to help Eleanor with, is just one possibility.”

  “Not likely.” Burke frowned. “Arson for insurance money. Reacher torches the place, and Duncan gets rich. Makes total sense.”

  Kim jerked her head in a quick negative shake. Not because the idea was stupid. It wasn’t. But they had zero evidence to support the plan. Last the Landons knew Eleanor Duncan was already rich. Why would she want to torch her own business? Not to mention her home?

  Which was when Kim noticed a group of Asian women dressed in silk pajamas clustered together at the corner of the sidewalk, staring at the Orchid Thai Bistro, watching everything they had in the world go up in flames.

  Kim counted twelve in the huddle, their distraught, tear-stained faces illuminated by the warm and brilliant firelight. Eleven of the women were Asian-looking. About half were teens. The others were mid-twenties. From the looks of them, a few were probably mothers and daughters.

  The twelfth woman was Eleanor Duncan. No doubt about it. She stood ramrod straight, fists clinched at her sides, and stared into the fire with the kind of impotent anger Kim recognized.

  Eleanor Duncan was seriously pissed off.

  CHAPTER 18

  Wednesday, May 18

  Golden, Colorado

  4:00 a.m.

  Sydney waited in the shadows. He lifted binoculars to his face to check the fire’s progress.

  The blaze burned nicely. Even with several fire companies doing their best, Orchid Thai Bistro would be rubble before daylight. Exactly as Rossi wanted.

  In Sydney’s experience, persuasion was a fine art, not a blunt instrument. Just the right amount of pressure would achieve the desired result. He’d been told to send the woman a strong message, to make her pliable. Not to kill her.

  He’d counted the residents as they fled the burning building. Twelve in all.

  Eleven Thai women, who rightfully belonged to Rossi. There had been sixteen in the original shipment. They had escaped before because someone had protected them. Now there were eleven here and five elsewhere. Probably with Jade, along with the rest of her employees.

  Soon, they would all be together again and returned to Rossi, where they should have been all along.

  Without the bistro as a safe haven, Sydney expected to round them up and herd them back as easily as a border collie with a flock of sheep.

  The twelfth woman was Eleanor Duncan, a do-gooder who’d already meddled too much in Rossi’s business. Sydney would kill her in good time. Rossi wanted her to suffer for a while first.

  The Thai women stood shivering on the sidewalk in the frosty morning air. Thin nightclothes were no match for the cold Rocky Mountain springtime. They had not thought to grab coats on the way out of the burning building. With the sprinklers and the alarms blasting, awakened from a sound sleep, they barely had a chance to think at all.

  Sydney clicked his tongue against his teeth as he shook his head. Eleanor Duncan was a whole different level of problem. She was too warmed by her anger to shiver in the cold.

  Eleanor Duncan was experienced in all kinds of ways. She knew how to thrive in colder temperatures than these. She’d been raised in Nebraska and lived there most of her life. She was bundled into a heavy barn coat with her hands shoved into slanted pockets, which pushed her elbows akimbo.

  She was also directly responsible for Rossi’s heavy losses seven years ago. No other conclusion was remotely possible. The Thais would not have escaped without Eleanor. They couldn’t think ahead far enough to grab a coat. They surely weren’t capable of getting themselves from Nebraska to Denver, finding work, and thriving all these years.

  Rossi was The Elephant. He had a very long memory. Seven years was nothing to him. He felt the damage as keenly as if Eleanor Duncan had stolen his property and destroyed his business yesterday. Rossi would pursue her forever until one of them no longer drew breath.

  Sydney’s money was on Rossi. No matter how clever Eleanor Duncan was, she didn’t have Rossi’s frigid heart. She’d give up eventually. They always did.

  Sydney saw that a bevy of professionals had joined the fire scene, increasing the volume of choreographed chaos. Cops, firefighters, emergency medical personnel fairly swarmed the parking lot, surrounding the burning building on all sides, weaving around each other like footballers on the field.

  And then he noticed two others he couldn’t immediately categorize.

  They’d arrived in a civilian SUV, a dark colored Lincoln, black or navy or charcoal, maybe. A man and a woman wearing civilian clothes stood transfixed by the fire. No parkas, hats, gloves, or boots.

  She was petite. Asian looking, too. Maybe one of Jade’s women? But not Thai. He was no expert, but she was probably some sort of mixed race. It was impossible to tell in the dark from this distance, even with the binoculars and the orange flames lighting her features.

  The man was taller. Six feet, or thereabouts. Square-shouldered. Trim. Fit. He carried himself like a military man. Sydney understood the military mind set. He recognized it when he observed others.

  The two stood watching the fire and the scene with professional interest. What were they doing here?

  He used the binoculars to scan the area again.

  Sydney hadn’t expected Jade to be inside when the alarms sounded, and as far as he could tell, she wasn’t.

  But these women had immigrated with Jade. They were the closest friends she had in this country. She had bonded with them through extreme stress and hardship.

  Jade might show up and offer her friends a place to stay, at least. The fire was meant to render them homeless and without alternatives to Rossi’s plans. Which it surely had achieved.

  Sydney twisted at the waist and peered through the binoculars to make one last sweep around the building.

  If the big guy and his sidekick from the Bistro last night were hanging around, they were invisible now.

  Perhaps Sydney had been wrong. Maybe Eleanor Duncan had not hired the giant to provide security. Which was good for Sydney and Rossi. Bad for Duncan.

  He smiled as he collected his gear. There was nothing more to do here.

  Sydney carried the heavy black duffle through the alleys, moving from one shadow to the next, avoiding security cameras perched on corners and poles. Six minutes later, he approached the stolen sedan he’d parked four streets away.

  He stashed the duffle in the trunk and slid behind the wheel as another firetruck’s wailing siren headed toward the bistro. He barely noticed the flashin
g lights and blasting horns as the truck sped past.

  He found the fresh burner phone in his pocket and fired it up. When it connected to the towers, he dialed another burner sitting at the Snake Eyes Casino in Vegas.

  Rossi picked up on the first ring. “Yeah.”

  Sydney heard the unmistakable noises he associated with Rossi’s favorite pastime. Cheering crowds. Muffled punches followed by grunts and heavier thuds. Screaming spectators. Noise exposure levels sufficient to cause post-match hearing loss, according to the experts Rossi hired to ramp up the excitement at his Muay Thai boxing matches.

  Chen was heavily favored by the oddsmakers to win tonight. Which was why Rossi wouldn’t tell him about his sister until tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

  When the noise abated slightly, Sydney said, “First phase is done.”

  “Keep me posted.” Rossi disconnected. His mind was already focused on what came next.

  CHAPTER 19

  Wednesday, May 18

  Golden, Colorado

  4:30 a.m.

  Kim glanced around the parking lot again. Her view was blocked by vehicles and first responders of all sorts. The bright flames engulfing the building were simultaneously a help and a hindrance. The light illuminated the shadows but blinded her night vision. She could see the building afire, but nothing around the darker periphery.

  “We’re wasting time. Are we interrogating Eleanor Duncan or just standing here with our tongues hanging out?” Burke asked.

  “She isn’t going anywhere for a while.” Kim stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Let’s take a quick walk around the perimeter first.”

  “What for? Reacher won’t be standing out in the open where we can easily see him after he torched the place,” Burke replied, but when she stepped away, he hurriedly followed. “Sure. Why not. A brisk walk will warm us up, if nothing else.”

  Kim ignored his sarcasm and moved toward the fire. The heat radiated outward, warming the frigid night. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but the flames drew her nearer even as the cacophony overwhelmed her senses.

  When she cleared the nearest firetruck and moved inside the perimeter, the parking lot was as cluttered as an obstacle course. Equipment deployed everywhere. Firefighters scurried hither and yon, adjusting and resetting and shouting to be heard.

  They had fought to save the building, and that battle was lost. The fire had been too hot already when they’d arrived. The inferno had spread too quickly from the ground floor.

  Now they were fighting to keep the conflagration contained to the Orchid Thai Bistro instead of consuming the entire neighborhood when the breeze lifted burning embers and carried them to new sources of fuel.

  A police officer noticed Kim and Burke standing closer to the blaze. He hustled over with his arms outstretched to herd them back. “Sorry, folks, we need you to move away from the building.”

  Kim nodded toward Burke and replied, “We’re FBI.”

  Burke flashed his badge wallet. The fire glinted off his shield.

  “Enrico Mendez. Golden PD,” the officer replied. “We’ve got this under control. We didn’t call for FBI assistance. Why are you folks here?”

  Kim shrugged. “We saw the fire. Thought you might need help.”

  “Step over here, please. Let’s give these guys room to do their work,” Mendez said, gesturing to the open space beyond two vehicles blocking bystanders from a full view.

  “Seems like a hot fire,” Burke said as he moved out.

  Mendez nodded. “Yeah. Too hot. Fire chief figures arson. We won’t know for sure until we get it extinguished and forensics can analyze whatever’s left.”

  “Everybody get out okay?” Kim asked, continuing to look for Reacher.

  “Far as we know,” Mendez replied. “All residents are accounted for. We’ve been told there were no visitors inside the building.”

  “Have you interviewed them yet?” Kim asked.

  “I was the first officer on the scene. I talked to the owner. She didn’t seem to know anything helpful. Neither did the others. But we’ll do more investigation later. When we have more facts,” Mendez replied, twisting his neck around when someone called his name. “That’s my partner. I’ve gotta go.”

  “You think everyone got out, for sure? This wasn’t a break-in, burglars still inside?” Kim asked. “No homeless people sleeping too close on a cold night? The arsonist didn’t screw up and kill himself?”

  Mendez frowned and shook his head. “We haven’t found any bodies yet. Doesn’t mean we won’t, though. You think an arsonist might be in there?”

  Kim pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “Call me later, when you can. After you get a good look around the debris tomorrow.”

  He cocked his head, a quizzical expression on his face. He put the card in his pocket. “Probably be a few days before we know much more than I’ve already told you.”

  “That’s okay. If there’s a body, you’ll find it sooner. Otherwise, I can wait. Thanks,” she said, as he nodded and turned to trot into the melee.

  “Now what?” Burke asked sourly. “Like he said, it’ll be a while before we get any forensics. Petey Burns isn’t the brightest bulb, but Reacher seems too smart to screw up an arson or to stick around waiting for us to find him. And you don’t think he did this anyway.”

  Kim nodded, turned her jacket collar up to battle the cold wind, and headed toward the far corner of the lot where the knot of women were still huddled. Nautical twilight brightened the sky enough to dilute the shadows, but beyond the firefighting equipment, the parking lot was flat and smooth and free of tripping hazards.

  Eleanor Duncan continued to stare at the fire as if transfixed by the disaster. Kim had seen victims unable to turn away from ruin, and she remembered all too well how it felt to find your home aflame.

  First came bewildered astonishment, followed shortly by disbelief, and then anger that could grow hotter than the fire. The anger lasted a good long time. Some crime victims never recovered from it, and anger defined them ever more.

  Eleanor Duncan had survived much worse. But would she recover from this disaster, or would it be the last straw that broke her?

  “Mrs. Duncan?” Kim asked as she approached. Eleanor didn’t flinch. “Mrs. Duncan, I’m FBI Agent Kim Otto. This is my partner, William Burke.”

  Eleanor stood as stiff as if she’d frozen in place.

  One of the Thai women looked into Kim’s gaze. She was young and pretty, and her long black hair was held at the base of her neck with a pale pink ribbon that matched her silk pajamas. She had to be freezing cold, but she barely shivered.

  She spoke boldly, in a clear voice, without hesitation. “I’m Anchara. People call me Angel.”

  Kim nodded to acknowledge her. “Mrs. Duncan, we have a vehicle over here. We need to talk with you. Come sit inside, where it’s not so cold.”

  Eleanor offered a glassy-eyed stare as if noticing Kim for the first time. Which she probably was. “Can all of us fit inside?”

  “Maybe. We can try.” Kim shot Burke a meaningful gaze. “If not, you can take turns getting warm. Or we can drive you somewhere. Is there a hotel nearby?”

  Eleanor nodded, giving her blessing to the plan. Angel herded the women toward the Navigator, with Burke, a foot taller, in the lead, gliding like a row of mallards on a placid lake. Eleanor didn’t move. She turned her gaze to the fire once more, entranced.

  Kim moved closer. The alternating shadows and brightness of the firelight revealed that Eleanor’s nose had been broken and healed with a couple of extra bumps. Her cheekbones were slightly deformed. And her lower jaw rested off-center. The combination gave her an oddly fragile vibe while at the same time suggesting Eleanor was much stronger than she appeared.

  “Aren’t you curious about why we’re here?” Kim asked, attempting to snag Eleanor’s attention.

  “Does FBI have jurisdiction for arson?” Eleanor asked without turning her head away from the flames. �
��If so, I’d like you to find the bastard and shoot him.”

  Kim raised her eyebrows. Eleanor looked harmless enough, but her anger was as hard as the concrete she was standing on.

  “Arson’s not our jurisdiction, I’m afraid. Not without more context, at least. If it’s a federal crime, we could become involved,” Kim replied. “At the moment, it looks like you’ve got a capable team handling the fire.”

  Eleanor said nothing.

  “Why do you believe this was arson? Did you receive threats? See someone setting the fire? Smell accelerant? Anything like that?” Kim asked.

  “The building is new. It’s equipped with the best fire prevention and suppression equipment available. We heard nothing. Saw nothing. Smelled nothing. No alarms, no sprinklers, nothing at all.” Eleanor shook her head, her tone bitter and resigned. She waved toward the fire with an open palm. “Yet there it is, a pile of rubble. You tell me how that could possibly happen unless the fire was deliberately set, huh?”

  “Why would anyone want to burn your business to the ground?” Kim asked. “The investigation will start there and fan out. Business rival? Personal vendetta? Insurance fraud? They’ll need names and contact information to speed things up.”

  Eleanor nodded as if she’d been thinking about the questions already, but she didn’t answer them. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m looking for Jack Reacher,” Kim said simply, sensing that she’d get nowhere with this woman by being subtle.

  Eleanor didn’t flinch and she offered nothing in response.

  “Has he been here?” Kim asked.

  “Haven’t seen him around tonight.” Eleanor shrugged. “Unfortunately.”

  Which was almost an admission that Eleanor had seen Reacher. Kim cocked her head and took a deep breath to settle the flutter in her stomach. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because if Reacher had been here, he’d have caught the bastard who torched my building before it burned to the ground,” she replied, a deep thread of anger in her tone.