by G. K. Parks
“I apologize for that.” He helped me up and let go. “As soon as possible, I made sure Santino sent a proof of life to the Cales. The Four Seasons were becoming more afraid and antagonistic, even to Santino. They needed to be stopped.”
“What about Catherine’s recovery? Why did you send me through the fucking air vent?”
“At that point, all cooperation ceased. The girls were separated, and their safety was no longer ensured. You saw the cage they were keeping Catherine in. Santino’s plan backfired. The fake kidnapping became an actual kidnapping.”
“That’s why you took Adam, Autumn, whatever.” I was on the edge of the bed, processing his words.
“Yes. He had answers. They needed to believe they were no longer safe from retaliation. They fucked with us, so we were fucking with them.” It all made sense. There was no guarantee any of it was true, but it fit. “In the car, on the way to get Adalina, you knew my team was involved with the kidnappers.”
I laughed. It wasn’t appropriate, but it was all I could do. It was true; I did reach that conclusion, but at the time, it was too late to do anything about it. “Better late than never.”
“From your government files and your corporate record, keeping you off balance was the hardest part. Bastian figured emotional manipulation was the easiest way to keep you from thinking straight.”
“Because I’m a woman?”
“No. Because you’ve lost people and your greatest fear is losing more.”
Forty-three
Sitting at O’Connell’s desk at the precinct, Thompson stood in front of me, asking a question. From the irritated look on his face, he already asked the same thing a couple of times. “Snap out of it, Parker.”
“What?” I was preoccupied, replaying my conversation with Mercer on a loop. There was no reason to trust him after all the deception, but someone had to save Rosa and Adalina. He asked for a couple of days to get some fake identities established and make travel arrangements for them. They weren’t going back to Peru. He had a network of contacts in the EU, and with the money they made from the staged kidnapping, they would be able to start their lives over, far from the clutches of Miguel. Until then, I agreed to run interference at the precinct. As of yet, I didn’t know if I would turn over the evidence against Mercer and his team, depicting their involvement in the kidnapping, or if it would be destroyed. It depended on how the next two days went.
“Forget it,” Thompson huffed. He went down the hallway, leaving me alone in the squad room.
Although I was reviewing interview transcripts and offering some additional insight into the shooting and possible connections between Santino and the Four Seasons, I couldn’t provide any hard facts until I received confirmation from Mercer, so I was dragging my heels.
“Are you hanging in there?” Heathcliff asked, sitting on top of the desk and studying me. “Yesterday, you were moving in six different directions at once, and today, you’ve done nothing.”
“I’m just wrapping my head around all of this, and it’s given me a headache.”
“The Estes family is at home. After what they endured, Moretti thought they could use some time to recover. Adalina’s been given a clean bill of health. She had a few minor cuts and scrapes, but it’s nothing compared to what could have been.” He smiled brightly. “You did a good thing.”
“What about Santino?”
“He’s in custody. We haven’t officially charged him, and we’re coming close to deadline to bring him up on charges or cut him loose. Thompson went to take a crack at him.”
Licking my lips, I stood up. “Can I get in on the party?”
“Why didn’t you just say so when Thompson asked?” Heathcliff shook his head at my irrational behavior and led me through the precinct to the proper room.
Inside, Santino was behind a table while Thompson paced the floor in front of him. With the type of progress being made, it was no wonder it took so long to get Catherine back. Thompson glanced up but didn’t say anything.
“Mr. Santino,” I began, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of him, “do you know who I am?”
“Yes.”
“And you know of my involvement in recovering Adalina from a group of kidnappers known as the Four Seasons.”
“Yes,” he sounded uncertain, and Thompson’s footsteps halted.
“Within the next twelve hours, you will be walking out of this precinct. There will be no uniformed officers for protection or bars to prevent anyone from inflicting further damage upon you.” I jerked my chin at his battered visage. “It’s not necessary for you to say what happened.” I let my words hang ominously in the air. “The people responsible are still out there, and given your current predicament, it’s just a matter of time.” He audibly swallowed but fought to maintain his composure. “You should be aware we have nothing on you. But I know the truth.”
“Then you know why I can’t say anything.”
“There are alternatives available. You know enough to help the police detain the person responsible for all of this.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he insisted.
Getting up, I went around the table and leaned in close. “Estes knows what you’ve done. Now that his daughter is back, you won’t survive.”
He shook his head. There was no way he’d sacrifice Rosa after all of this.
“Tell us what you know, man,” Thompson interjected. “We can help.”
“I promise we’ll make sure she’s safe. They’re both safe,” I whispered in his ear. His eyes looked panicked, and it was time to let my words sink in. “Think about it. Maybe you can have a happier ending.” Without waiting, I exited the room and went down the hall.
As I slipped into my jacket, Thompson came back. “What the hell do you know?” he asked.
“I don’t know anything, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make shit up. It’s called interrogation, Detective. Maybe you need a refresher course.” I didn’t want Thompson for an enemy, but for the time being, he couldn’t know what was happening. “Fifty says before you release him tomorrow morning, he’ll ask for a lawyer and negotiate a deal.”
“You’re on.”
“And now, I’m off. Call if you need me to crack any more of your suspects.” I winked and grinned, appearing playful in this potentially volatile situation.
* * *
My meeting with Mercer left me feeling fragmented. As the ex-SAS worked out an exit strategy and whatever new scheme they were cooking, I turned my attention back to the more civilized world. Martin dropped off his financial assessment of the countertops, and after reading his report, I knew Francesca’s problem wasn’t internal.
I pulled my research on Insight International, Craig Robinson, and his team. Conducting a final search, I dialed the precinct where Robinson had been arrested for possession and intoxication and asked to speak to the arresting officer. After the call was shuffled around, I was handed off to a Detective Bell.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Alexis Parker, security consultant and private investigator.” I gave him the pertinent information on my current police consultant status and my private employer, Francesca Pirelli. Although admitting to being employed by Pirelli might have somehow violated my nondisclosure, it seemed permissible to overlook this fact. The records were faxed over, and Bell gave me a name of an officer in an entirely different state and city to contact.
As I began digging, I quickly realized that Craig Robinson had a slew of arrests but nary a conviction. They were all drug-related crimes. It didn’t surprise me. Sometimes, it was easier to let an out-of-towner off with a warning than to file the paperwork. Generally, the assumption was he’d get caught elsewhere and be someone else’s headache. Unfortunately, he was mine.
After running through a few more contacts, my suspicions were solidified. Robinson was the leak in Pirelli’s company. I was on the phone, speaking to a woman in charge of Insight International. This time, I used the tactic of working in
the law enforcement community and asked about Robinson’s work habits. Only after my credentials were verified at the precinct did the woman explain that Robinson was fired yesterday.
Another company his team assessed experienced a similar information leak. Instead of keeping it quiet, they raised hell for restitution. The name of the company was not divulged, but I was sure there was a lawsuit in the works. The other three members of his team were split up, and each was being carefully scrutinized. If they sneezed wrong, they’d be looking for a new job.
Hanging up, there wasn’t anything I could do to fix the situation. I would report my findings and conclusion to Ms. Pirelli, and the corporate attorneys would be salivating over the details. At least it turned out to be much simpler than I thought. Liam Naysley was innocent. A horrible investor but not a thief. If only everything was this easy. Writing a formal letter highlighting my findings, I attached the pertinent arrest records, the highlighted financial information conflicting with Robinson’s report, and grabbed my keys. I’d drop it off at her hotel this evening and be free from one of my burdens.
The drive over was pleasant. When I arrived at the hotel, the desk clerk called up to the room, and I was surprised when she answered. I figured she would be out, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Inside her suite, I handed her the information and gave a brief verbal explanation.
“This is it?” she asked, sounding disappointed.
“You did ask that I identify the leak. It isn’t internal, at least not based on similar circumstances happening independently of your business.”
“Very well.” She put the report down. “Thank you for your time, Alex.”
“Glad I could help.” Standing, I headed for the door.
“Wait.” I turned and looked at her. “Please join me for a drink.” Awkwardly, I went back to the couch and sat. She poured two fingers of scotch into two glasses and brought them over. “It’s not Macallan, but it was complimentarily provided by the hotel.”
“I wouldn’t know the difference.”
“Jamie would.” The reason she didn’t want me to leave quickly became apparent. “I owe you an apology. Had I known the two of you were involved, I wouldn’t have kissed him at the conference or spoke my mind so bluntly. I hope I didn’t cause any waves that evening at his house.” This wasn’t any of her business, but if I wanted to fit into the normal world, this might be construed as normal conversation.
“No, ma’am, the only one who caused trouble was me. That’s usually the case anyway.” She narrowed her eyes and glanced at my bandaged hand.
“How does a pretty, young thing like you end up with a job like yours?”
“Martin didn’t tell you?”
She chuckled at something she found amusing. “You call him Martin? Does he make you add the Mister when you’re in bed?” Wow, she had a set of cojones.
Swallowing the remainder of the scotch in one gulp, I gave her the look I often reserved for criminals in custody before we nailed them to the wall. “I’m just curious, what part of my personality screams out submissive to you?” I stood. “Thanks for the drink.”
“Alex, I was only teasing.” She laughed as if this was all a friendly joke. “This was meant to be an apology. You’ve surprised me by being this capable, driven woman, and not at all someone who hides in Jamie’s shadow. I can’t pretend to know who he is anymore, but there’s a chance we’ll all be seeing each other a lot more. So I wanted to make sure there was no bad blood between us.”
“Of course.” Whatever she was prattling on about, I didn’t particularly care. I wanted to go home.
“Thanks again. It’s been a real pleasure watching you work.”
I turned and left her hotel suite. As the elevator doors opened in the lobby, Martin stood in front of me. He smiled, and by the time the doors shut, he had enveloped me in a kiss. Thankfully, no one else was in the elevator.
“How did today go?” he asked, lifting my hand and examining the tape. “Is it settled?”
“Mercer and I spoke. Some things are still up in the air. It will depend on a few factors, but we’re trying to work together.” I sighed. “Thank you for this morning. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
The smile brightened on his face. “When the dust clears and it’s all settled, I want a weekend. Fair enough?”
“Absolutely.” The elevator dinged, and he hit the close door button automatically. “Can I ask why you’re here?”
“Business not pleasure. Well, this was pleasurable. It could be more so if we pull the emergency stop and block the camera.” He waggled an eyebrow at me. “I was on my way to–” He stopped. “This will sound insane, but it’s business and I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t tell me?”
“No.” He looked conflicted. “I will tell you later, but I can’t tell you now.”
“But you’re going to see Francesca?” One and one equals two, and I had my suspicions it was business like he said. “Nothing sordid?”
“Only if you want to black out the camera.”
“Rain check.” He sighed at my response and released the close door button. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Tonight?” he asked, sounding hopeful, but I couldn’t make plans when things were still uncertain with Mercer.
“This weekend.”
“Okay.”
Forty-four
Bastian phoned late that night to verify the documentation had been created and delivered. Plans were being devised to get Rosa and Adalina alone and away from Miguel, but after the kidnapping, personal security was on high alert. It was time we created a distraction.
Early the next morning, I arrived at the precinct. There were no familiar faces in the squad room, and I went down to holding to speak with Estobar Santino in private. The officer working the desk was preoccupied with a crossword puzzle, so I went to the holding cell at the end and stared at Estobar.
“Morning,” I spoke quietly to avoid being overheard, “whether it’s good or not is up to you.”
“What do you want from me?”
Cocking my head to the side, the question puzzled me. “Nothing. Honestly, I couldn’t care less.” I found a chair in the corner of the room and dragged it over, sitting down and stretching my legs out. “I understand the reasons for your actions. Although misguided, it’d probably be nice to believe you had the best intentions. Then again, there’s really no way of knowing that. Maybe you’re not a knight in shining armor. Maybe you’re just an asshole, looking to score. Money, a particular woman, maybe both.”
“I have no interest in the money besides what it can provide for Rosa,” he insisted.
“Sure, whatever pal.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I continued to stare at him, passing silent judgment. “Despite the fact you’re a fucking idiot, you can’t be stupid enough to believe your actions wouldn’t have consequences.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I opened my mouth to speak and shut it. “What? You have something to add?”
“Quite frankly, your love triangle bores me. This isn’t the way to handle a situation like this, but what pisses me off is the fact that you used innocent bystanders as your pawns, which you were more than willing to sacrifice.” He blanched. “Y’know, when that slips, I’d say inside a minute, one of two things will happen. Either they’ll blame the entire kidnapping on you and you get to spend the rest of your life in prison, or some of my brothers in blue will make you wish you were spending the rest of your life in prison.”
“What are you going to do?” This time he actually sounded afraid.
“I don’t know yet.” Squinting at the lights, I considered my options. “Being in jail, you can’t protect them from Miguel. I’d say your plan turned into an epic fail.”
“You can’t say anything, or he’ll know she was involved in the kidnapping. He’ll kill her,” he pleaded.
“Only you can stop this ticking bomb from exploding.” I stood up and put the chair back before app
roaching the bars. “You’re going to ask for a lawyer because you plan to confess. An attorney will be brought in, and you are going to explain the situation, every specific incident you can recall concerning Miguel’s treatment of Rosa and Adalina you’ll provide a full depiction of to the lawyer. Any other illegal activities you know Miguel has committed, particularly on American soil, need to be divulged.”
“It will only anger him. He’ll lash out. It’ll make everything worse.” Estobar was panicking, and I put my hand up and gave him a stern look.
“Listen carefully. This is the only opportunity we’ll get to separate Estes from the girls. Don’t be a pussy. It’s time you man up, Estobar. The chips will fall where they may, and I can’t guarantee what will happen. But this is their only chance. Maybe yours too. Do you believe in redemption?”
He looked uncertain. “Yes.”
“Then prove it.” Without waiting, I marched upstairs and back to my car to phone Mercer.
“Parker?” he sounded anxious.
“It’s done. Santino might crack under the pressure, or he might do as I suggested.”
“Okay. We’ll maintain eyes on the package until then.”
“One more thing,” giving him a heads up wasn’t something I planned to do, “there’s no guarantee who else will be implicated.”
“Understood.” The line went dead. Gazing through the windshield at the early morning sun, I wondered if by the end of the day Mercer and I would be in adjacent holding cells.
* * *
Thompson placed two crumpled twenties and a five on the desk. I looked at it and then up at him. “I bought your coffee this morning, so we’ll count that as even. You won the bet.”