“Dies? Who died?”
Blake’s expression froze. “Hasn’t anyone from the local police department spoken with you?”
“Well, yes of course. I gave them my statement yesterday after they took Henry, my former chauffeur, into custody.”
The gnawing sensation that resided in her chest seemed to expand, making it difficult to draw breath. Ruth thought she knew what was coming next. At least Marshal Blake’s cool, professional attitude thawed somewhat and Ruth spotted a glimmer of compassion.
“I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Silas was killed last night by another inmate.”
“What? How could something like that happen?”
Blake held up a hand. “Let me start at the beginning. Once I’m finished, maybe you can fill in some blanks for me.”
Ruth nodded, putting on a brave face while fervently wishing for Jordan even more. She could use some moral support from someone who really cared how she felt.
“As I said, we have evidence that Henry Silas was involved with the Carlotti family. Apparently, he liked the horses and owed Don Carlotti, as they call him, quite a bit of money. When he couldn’t pay up, we suspect that Franco Carlotti ordered him to take you out of the picture as a way to pay off his debt.”
“You can’t be serious. First off, who is Franco Carlotti and how could Henry be involved with him?” Ruth resisted the possibility, unable to come to terms with the idea regardless of what he had tried to do. There should have been signs of such a connection. He’d lived in her home and she interacted with him on a daily basis.
Blake pointedly ignored Ruth’s query about Carlotti. “Oh yes, I’m very serious. There’s no question of Mr. Silas’s involvement with the Carlottis. Frankly, I’m not too sure about you. After all, you were his employer. I’m not sure how you could have missed it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He tried to kill me.”
“I’ll give you that. Did he say anything to you that might have implicated the Carlotti family?”
“No, but he did say that he didn’t kill Karl. I’ve never heard of this Carlotti, but I suppose it’s possible that’s who he was talking about.”
Marshal Blake gestured toward the chair and Ruth nodded, giving tacit permission for the agent to sit. Once settled, Blake attempted to explain. “Franco Carlotti hides behind a legitimate corporation that deals in pharmaceuticals and medical testing equipment. In reality, he is a crime boss operating out of Los Angeles. His family is into everything from numbers and racketeering to drugs and gun running. I highly doubt that Carlotti personally killed your friend. He delegates and doesn’t typically get his hands dirty.”
“Then why do you suspect him?”
“Last year, the police apprehended one of his...associates while attempting to carry out a hit. Carlotti himself ordered that hit. The suspect agreed to turn state’s evidence in exchange for immunity.”
“So he got away with trying to kill someone by offering to testify on his boss. Great, what’s that got to do with me or Karl?”
“One year ago, our witness suffered a major heart attack. Doctor Stein performed a triple bypass and saved his life. Because of that operation, Stein had access to certain information such as the witness’s new identity. It would have been in his patient records. Stein had to sign a nondisclosure agreement before he operated.”
“They killed Karl to keep him quiet? I’m not sure I follow.”
“After the person on the mountain cut your line, they attempted to extract that information from your friend, at least that’s what the forensic evidence indicates. If the Carlottis could find out what alias our witness had assumed, it would go a long way to help them track him down. Should the state’s key witness suddenly die or disappear, we wouldn’t have a case. Carlotti would go free.”
“When you say they attempted to extract information,” Ruth cleared her throat to stop the trembling in her words, “do you mean they tortured him?”
Blake hesitated. “I don’t think that’s something you should dwell on. The good times you had with your friend are more important.”
Although Ruth realized the marshal had a point, she couldn’t put that genie back in the bottle. She would take the information about Karl’s death out and examine it over and over, attempting to figure out where she could have saved him. The original police investigation had presented the possibility of torture, but their findings were inconclusive. Now she knew for sure. For the moment, however, Ruth had to focus on the situation at hand. She wiped away the single tear that tracked down her cheek.
“What about the guy that tried to run me off the road? Was he in on this? He failed so they sent Henry to follow up?”
Marshal Blake withdrew a notebook from her inside breast pocket. She consulted her notes before answering the question. When she looked up, Ruth searched her eyes for any signs of deception. She found nothing.
Blake shrugged. “His name is Ray Farnsworth, a carpenter. His wife had just filed for divorce and taken him for everything he was worth. Instead of taking his frustration out on her or in the gym, he stole a car from a dealership and attempted to work off his rage by running you off the highway.”
“How did they find him?”
“He turned himself in. The police arrested him for reckless endangerment, assault on a peace officer and felony assault.”
Ruth didn’t really know what to say. “I thought carpenters were supposed to be gentle and patient.”
“Not all carpenters are from Nazareth, honey. Now let’s get down to brass tacks. Did either Karl or Henry give you any information about someone in the witness protection program?”
“No.”
“Can you remember anything about your attacker on the mountain?”
“No. Wait, maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure. I was dreaming about that day and saw someone wearing camouflage clothing. They were fighting with Karl.”
Marshal Blake scribbled the details on her little notebook. “Did you get a description, hair color, anything?”
“Just that the person was tall and thin.” Ruth shook her head. “It might not mean anything, just a dream. Now that I’m awake, I certainly don’t recall seeing anyone up there.”
“Great, so we still have nothing.” Blake shoved the book back into her pocket.
She spent another thirty minutes asking questions. Ruth went over every detail of the last few days since her release from the Los Angeles hospital. Marshal Blake wasn’t content with one telling of the story. She stopped Ruth repeatedly, exploring each detail regardless how insignificant it seemed. By the time they finished, Ruth felt like Blake had turned over every rock in her unconscious searching for monsters. Unfortunately, Ruth wasn’t able to contribute anything further.
“At the risk of pointing out the obvious, a second attempt has been made on your life. I don’t think it’s too outrageous to say that the threat isn’t over. Is there any way I can talk you into accepting protective custody?”
The question caught Ruth by surprise. Hadn’t they just determined that she didn’t remember anything of consequence? “No, I’m not about to give up my freedom without a good reason. I didn’t see anything on the mountain and I don’t know anything about your witness, unless you’d care to tell me who this person is?”
“Sorry. I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying ‘need-to-know’? Well you definitely don’t need to know. It’ll be safer for you if you don’t.”
Marshal Blake flashed a smile and Ruth felt a blast of heat in her stomach. The reaction caught her off guard. She shouldn’t react to a total stranger this way, especially someone so outrageously condescending. Ruth thought about how she felt for Jordan and willed the attraction away. She was happy to consider that the concussion caused her atypical reaction to Marshal Blake.
“Okay, I’ll admit you have a point. I don’t need to know anything about your witness, but I still don’t want police protection.”
Blake wa
ved the statement away. “Fine, you don’t want us now but wait until something happens.”
Ruth was getting enough of the sarcasm. She didn’t know if Blake used it as a shield against things she’d seen on the job, nor did she care. She seemed to view Ruth through the same lens as all the other potential witnesses she’d dealt with in the past. Ruth didn’t consider herself part of the ninety-nine percent and found the perspective somewhat annoying. Marshal Blake’s attitude irritated her. Ruth had a feeling the marshals were making more of the situation than need be.
“I seriously doubt that will be a problem.”
“Be that as it may, give me a call if you think of anything else or if you suspect someone is following you.”
Blake offered her a business card. Ruth pinched the end of the paper, trying not to make contact with Marshal Blake’s fingers. For some reason, she was acutely aware of her and knew touching Blake would not be a good idea.
“Before we go, I’d like to caution you about trusting anyone.”
“What are you talking about?”
Marshal Blake shook her head. “I’m referring to basic precautions. If someone is still after you, try to be aware of your surroundings. Don’t go for a walk at night by yourself, vary your routine, that sort of thing.”
“All right, I understand.”
“Also,” Blake hesitated as if she knew Ruth wouldn’t like what she said. “Keep everything I’ve told you confidential. You say you don’t know anything and I believe you.”
Ruth nodded. “But if I’m careless and mention any of what you’ve told me, someone else might believe otherwise.”
“I hope you’re right. Maybe the Carlottis don’t have anything to do with this and your chauffeur just went off the deep end. That still doesn’t explain why he was killed in his cell last night. Just be careful.”
Marshal Blake stood and Ruth sensed that the interview was over. She kept silent as Moore opened the door for his partner and the two left. Jordan entered the room, glancing over her shoulder to watch the pair walk away. A frown of confusion rested between her brows, but it vanished when she looked at Ruth. A smile that melted Ruth’s heart replaced the scowl.
“What was that all about?” Jordan plopped down in the chair that Marshal Blake had just vacated.
Ruth opened her mouth to answer, but Blake’s warning reverberated in her mind. For a split second, she berated herself for holding back from Jordan. Jordan had saved her life and Ruth trusted her implicitly. Still, there could be a third party listening from outside the ground floor window or outside the door. Ruth hesitated to say anything remotely incriminating in such a public place.
“They just wanted to know what happened yesterday.”
“I didn’t know marshals had jurisdiction in a local municipality.”
Ruth impishly repeated Blake’s earlier response. “Apparently, they have wide law enforcement responsibilities.”
Jordan smiled and reached out to brush the hair back from Ruth’s forehead. Ruth closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the warm touch. Jordan’s caress made her feel cherished. She couldn’t help compare the sensation to the response generated by Marshal Blake. Instinct said that Emma Blake could be dangerous. A chill traveled down her spine, but Ruth wasn’t afraid. In fact, she found Marshal Blake too sexy for her own good.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Ruth answered quickly. “Nothing at all. Now tell me why you look upset.”
Jordan’s eyes widened in pleased surprise. “You know me so well already. Well, you’re right. I got a call from Nurse Flanagan while I was in the hall. She said Mark Fuller made bail so he showed up for work today.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish. He almost got Trisha fired for something he did and now he’s out of jail and acting like nothing ever happened. It just doesn’t seem right.”
Ruth squeezed Jordan’s hand. “It’s not, but keep in mind that he’s out on bail. That means he’ll still have to go to court over what happened and what about the hospital board? Won’t they terminate him now?”
“That’s true, I hadn’t thought of that. They’ll probably can him as soon as they find out he’s wandering around the property.”
“I’m sure they will. Hey, you didn’t happen to see my doctor anywhere while you were lurking in the hall did you?”
“I swear, you’re like a broken record. No, but I promise I’ll let you know when I do.”
Ruth was happy she could lighten the atmosphere as they shared a laugh. She was already feeling better and the headache had dissipated. Ruth felt optimistic that she’d be released before dark.
“I had an idea,” Jordan said, breaking into her thoughts. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight in the city?”
“Did you have someplace special in mind?”
“Not really, but I do know this great pizza joint. Afterwards, I thought it would be nice if you stayed over with me at my apartment. I do still have a few days off.”
Ruth thought of their interrupted weekend and almost said yes to everything. She wanted to spend time alone with Jordan exploring possibilities. Unfortunately, Ruth wasn’t feeling up to it and had other responsibilities as well.
“It sounds wonderful, really, but I just can’t. I need to pick up my car along with a copy of the police report. I haven’t even reported the accident to the insurance company yet.”
“Is that the only reason?” Jordan looked deeply upset. Her lower lip trembled and she had trouble meeting Ruth’s eyes. “You’re not suspicious of me now because of what Henry did? I mean I get it if you are.”
“No, God no. Look at me.” Ruth tightened her hold on Jordan’s hand and waited until she complied. “I don’t think you’re out to kill me and serve me up to...” She stopped as she realized what she’d almost said. “I trust you, okay? I really do have things to take care of and I think I also need some time alone to process everything.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise. Despite all that, I expect you to give me a rain check. I’d love to see your apartment.”
Jordan shook their joined hands. “We could always make it an indoor party at your place. Order pizza in.”
She was tempted, but decided on the responsible choice. “I’m sorry, Jordan. I just need to rest.”
“Say no more, I understand completely.”
Ruth thought Jordan had to feel rejected, yet she still spent the next few hours at her side. Jordan made her laugh by telling her stories of problem patients over the years. Her puckish sense of humor made Ruth forget both the setting and the visit from Marshal Blake. Eventually, her treating physician appeared and pronounced her cleared to leave the hospital. It was the news she’d waited for, yet suddenly she felt the impending separation from Jordan.
Jordan must have seen something in her expression. “It’s fine. At least we know there are no lasting repercussions and don’t think I’m giving up so easily. Once you’re rested, we’ll get together.”
“I’ll hold you to that, but can I ask a favor?”
“Sure, anything. You know that.”
Ruth nodded. That was something she was just beginning to understand. It was a relief to know there was one person she could truly trust. “Can you give me a ride to the ferry parking lot? I need to pick up my car.”
Chapter Eleven
RUTH TOOK A moment to rest her eyes as she leaned her head back against the Jaguar’s headrest. She’d just finished the drive back to Los Angeles from Jessup Bay. The sun shone so brightly overhead that even her Rayban sunglasses couldn’t prevent her headache’s return. The light seemed to stab through her eyes and directly into her brain. Closing her eyes for a few seconds eased the pain, but Ruth couldn’t sit in the car indefinitely.
Regardless, she continued to sit in the plush leather seat. She knew procrastinating against the inevitable wouldn’t change the situation. Henry’s absence from the house would be a constant reminder of his duplicity. The fu
nny thing was that the betrayal hurt more than the concussion. Her fear had faded quickly with Henry’s apprehension and she hardly remembered the pulse-pounding terror. What Ruth did remember was Henry carrying her on his shoulders when she was a toddler. She could easily envision him dropping her at school throughout the years. The only time he’d been absent was during her college years. Even then, he still lived and worked for her family. Henry was a fixture in her life and she had never truly known him at all.
She remained in the car because going into the house would require full acceptance of his treachery. How had she been so blind? How could she not have seen that he was in trouble? Borrowing money from a loan shark to pay off gambling debts should have left signs for her to notice. As much as it disheartened her, Ruth acknowledged Henry’s motivations. What she found more difficult to believe was that the head of an organized crime family had ordered her death. It sounded like something from a Lifetime movie. Had she not lived through the frightening episode, Ruth would never have believed it.
Eventually, Ruth sighed and straightened. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and left the battered car sitting unlocked in the driveway. Considering everything she’d gone through in the last few months, she really didn’t care if someone stole the Jaguar. She still needed to call the insurance company to arrange for the adjustor to come out, but it could wait. The most important thing on her to-do list was a hot bath. Ruth desperately needed to get the scent of hospital antiseptic out of her nose and off of her skin.
She climbed the steps and entered the empty house, but didn’t really notice any details. The idea that Karl was tortured careened around in her head, taking up all of her attention. Ruth was cognizant enough to turn the deadbolt behind her. Out of reflex, she dropped her bag on the foyer table. She noticed the corner of a business card sticking out of a side pocket and thought about Marshal Blake. The woman seemed competent enough, as well as arrogant, and Ruth hoped she would be able to bring Karl’s killer to justice. Beyond that, Ruth felt tapped. She couldn’t think about this anymore or she would go mad.
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