by J. V. Speyer
Gelens’ lawyer, Morello, leaped to his feet. “Objection! Your Honor, the witness is engaging in speculation.”
Fahey whipped her gaze over to Judge Sullivan. “Your Honor, I refer you to the defendant’s own statements during his interview after his arrest, previously entered into evidence in exhibit 14 and exhibits 324 through 459.”
Luis and Sullivan shared a visible shudder. The second group of exhibits were the films in which Gelens had played a starring role.
“Overruled.” Sullivan glowered at Morello. “Save it for cross, Counselor.”
Gelens met Luis’ eyes and smirked. Luis rolled his eyes and looked back at Fahey. What did Gelens have to smirk about anyway? He was going to federal prison for the rest of his life. Nothing could possibly save him.
Well, unless Luis screwed up. He’d have to screw up pretty badly, but anything was possible.
“Agent Gomes, what leads a person to behavior like Mr. Gelens’?” Fahey tilted her head to the side.
Prosecutors asked this question every time, and Luis always hated it. Someday, if he ever came across a case that didn’t matter, he’d tell the truth. They’re just bad people. Sure, it was more complicated than that, and it didn’t apply to everyone, but Luis was too tired for complicated today. “Well, there are a number of factors that go into offenses such as Mr. Gelens’. Many pedophiles were themselves molested as children, but most survivors of child sexual abuse do not themselves go on to abuse. Many narcissists suffered some sort of trauma, some loss of the love and attention they needed as children. Most people who endure that type of trauma do not eventually go on to become narcissists or serial sexual sadists.” He continued his explanation, watching the gallery and the jury carefully.
The jury seemed to be on board. Every pair of eyes in the jury box stayed fixed on him, even the fourth alternate juror who’d been nodding off throughout the trial. The spectators, some of whom were probably other witnesses, seemed to be interested as well. He knew some of them were victims’ families. It had to be hard to listen to Luis speaking so clinically about someone who’d been so cruel to their loved ones, but they sat stoically and endured.
Luis had spoken to them before the trial, to make sure they were ready for everything that was to come.
At noon, a loud growl from Judge Sullivan’s midsection prompted him to let them recess for lunch. Luis could have kissed him. He needed to get up and stretch his legs, or something.
He needed to stop talking, to stop thinking about a pervert serial killer, who had turned his deviance into a profitable business.
He wanted to find some quiet office somewhere, curl up into a little ball, and take a nap. It wouldn’t take much. Twenty minutes would probably be enough to help him avoid biting someone’s head off.
The nap was just as much of a fantasy as grabbing Donovan and running off to Bora-Bora. For one thing, there wasn’t an office he could borrow. For another, he needed to put some food in his belly if he was going to survive more testimony, or cross-examination. And finally, he needed to check in with Donovan and with his own colleagues.
He pulled his phone out and dialed as he made his way over to the little burger place near the courthouse. He’d had to testify down here often enough that he knew this place, and he knew their menu. He got a seat and ordered a salad even as he struggled to get through to Donovan.
Donovan still sounded like a wreck, which meant he hadn’t gone to bed either. “Hey. How’s it going?”
Luis smiled and sat back. Even as bad as Donovan sounded, his voice still made the day better. “It’s going. Just talking about this guy makes me want to bathe in bleach, but you know. How are you doing?”
“I’m alive. I had to talk to Fitch’s parents.”
“Yikes. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. They took it as well as they could, but—well. You’ve done it before.”
“Yeah.” Luis couldn’t say anything to that. They’d both had to notify families. It never got easier. “How’s Nguyen?”
“Still out, I’m afraid. It’s probably for the best. She’s going to be in a lot of pain when she does wake up. Um, Morales checked out AMA, but you probably knew he would.” Donovan chuckled. “It’s what you would do.”
“It’s what I would have done before I had you to basically sit on me until I saw reason.” Luis didn’t look up as a server delivered his salad and a glass of water. He hadn’t ordered water, but he probably sounded hoarse. He definitely needed it. He downed half of it before he continued. “If he winds up losing his job because he jumped the gun and lost the use of his arm—”
Donovan snorted. “Yeah, okay, Mr. I’m Going to Get Cut Up And Not Tell Anyone.”
“He’s supposed to learn from my mistakes.” Luis’ face got hot. “Not repeat them.”
“Kevin’s keeping an eye on him. And he’ll go to the orthopedist. He can’t stay in the hospital, you know that. Not when he’s the only one to walk away. You wouldn’t be able to, I couldn’t.”
Luis nodded slowly, even though Donovan couldn’t see him. “Yeah, you’re right. I know. I just hate to think about it. Don’t let him hurt himself worse, okay? He’s going to be beating himself up something fierce.”
“I know it.” Someone in the background said something unintelligible, and Donovan cleared his throat. “Hey, I’ve got to get going. We’ve got a lead.”
“Get ’em. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Luis called Kevin next, just to check in. Kevin had a lot of sympathy for the long testimony he was going through, and promised he was keeping an eye on Alex. “He’s staying with me and the kids for now. They sent him home with this amazing contraption that sends ice water through this cuff on his shoulder. Macha loves it. Can’t refill it enough. I swear she’s going to be an orthopedist when she grows up. She even wanted to see his X-rays.”
“That’s awesome.” Luis had to grin at that. “She does like to take care of injured agents.”
“Better than going off and trying to become one. Hopefully, you’ll be able to come back to work soon. I think we’re going to need you on this one. It’s fine to get the middle managers from this gang, right? But we want the guys in charge. You’re the best guy for that.”
“Is Organized Crime getting out of the way?”
Kevin scoffed. “No. But you’re the best guy to take care of that little problem too. I’m pretty sure their leader thinks you’re the boogey man hiding under his bed at night.”
A wave of nausea swept over Luis. “Ugh. I’m getting old. One all-nighter and I’m getting woozy. Look, I’m going to go walk it off. Nothing spells ‘credible witness’ like puking on the judge.”
“Yikes. Grab some ginger or something.”
“Good plan. I’ll call and check on Alex later.” Luis hung up, paid his bill, and shuffled toward the door.
The fresh seaport air should have helped clear Luis’ head. It usually worked that way, but today, it just made his nausea worse. He staggered toward the courthouse. Had there been something in the salad, something spoiled? Food poisoning was all they needed.
He forced himself to straighten up, even though the landscape waved in front of him. He wasn’t going to jeopardize this case. He was a professional. He’d ask Fahey for an antacid or something. Surely, she had something like that on hand.
He noticed an ambulance parked in front of the courthouse, just outside of the decorative and protective barrier.
A white guy in a pin-striped suit approached. At first, there wasn’t anything where his face should have been, just a big black hole. Luis had seen a lot of terrifying things, especially since the arrival of Captain Lightfoot, but the faceless guy took the cake. He’d have screamed, but he was afraid he’d get sick.
Then Luis blinked, and he realized the stranger was Andrew Morello, Gelens’ lawyer.
“Agent Gomes? You don’t look so good.” He put his hand on Luis’ arm. “Do you need help?”
The world had already
been spinning. Now it changed direction, whirling in the other direction like it had hit a wall. Luis couldn’t keep his balance. He fell down, vision going black. The last thing he heard, before his hearing went too, was a woman’s voice.
“It’s okay, I’m an EMT. Just help me get him on this gurney.”
Donovan yawned and tried to rub some feeling back into his face. Once upon a time, all-nighters hadn’t bothered him. Of course, he’d been younger then, practically a child. And the all-nighters hadn’t been quite so trauma centered. Staying up all night to cram for an exam, or even to stake out a suspect’s home, was one thing.
Staying up all night because two of his detectives had been shot was something else entirely.
At least at the end of it all, there would be Luis. Talking to him on the phone had given him the burst of energy he’d needed to get a few hours further into his work, but even that could only get him so far. He was going to have to head home soon, but when he did, he’d have Luis in person. Luis would hold him, and remind him that he hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger.
He was beyond lucky to have Luis in his life.
He pulled the ring out of his hiding place. Yeah, he was a lucky man. He’d be even luckier if Luis said yes. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe they weren’t there yet, wherever there was supposed to be. If Donovan didn’t ask, he’d spend the rest of his life regretting it.
The door to his office swung open. Donovan looked up, ready to bark at someone. His detectives knew better than to burst in on him without knocking—Captain Power wouldn’t have stood for it, back before their promotions, and things hadn’t changed.
When he saw Captain Power there instead of some hapless detective, the snarl died in his throat.
Donovan stood up, even though his legs felt shaky. “Sir. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Alex Morales and Kevin Rourke followed him inside. Alex wore civilian attire and a sling. He looked like crap, which made sense given his injury. Kevin wore his standard-issue fed suit. His face had gone deathly pale.
“You’re going to want to sit down, Carey.” Captain Power closed the door behind the trio. “I’m afraid we’re not here for a social call.”
Donovan’s blood ran cold. “What’s happened?”
Kevin took a deep breath. “Luis disappeared from the courthouse. It looks like he’s been abducted.”
Donovan’s whole world went white for a moment. He couldn’t hear anything, see anything. No thoughts echoed through his head. There was only a blank emptiness.
The moment passed, and he chuckled. Feeling returned to his lower extremities. “Good one, guys. People don’t just get kidnapped from a federal courthouse in broad daylight.”
Captain Power sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. He gestured to the other one and gave Alex a meaningful stare. “Agent Morales, you look like you’re about to pass out. Sit down. And maybe one of you can explain how this happened, since I’m not sure I understand it either.”
Alex sat beside Power, moving like he was afraid he was going to fall over. His skin had a greenish cast to it, and he couldn’t look up to meet Donovan’s eyes. “He didn’t make it back after court recessed from lunch. Defense counsel said he was staggering, looked unsteady and even drunk.”
“Luis doesn’t drink. Ever.” Donovan scowled at him. “You know that.”
“We all do.” Kevin put a hand on Alex’s good shoulder. “He’s just the messenger, Donovan. Anyway, Morello—the lawyer—knew it too. He says he approached Luis just in time to see him fall over, because he knew just how odd it was. A woman in an EMT uniform approached, with a gurney, and asked for his help in getting Luis onto it. She loaded him into the ambulance, which was waiting nearby, and drove off with the sirens on.”
Donovan jumped to his feet. “He never asked for ID?” He knew how absurd the demand was before he said it, but holding back when he was scared or in a rage (or both) had never been his strong suit.
“He was more concerned for Luis than anything else. When they got back into court, he soon realized no one from the FBI had contacted the court to let them know about Luis’ medical emergency. He explained what he’d seen, the judge called us, and here we are.” Kevin rubbed at his face, like he’d been out in the cold.
Captain Power cleared his throat. “They’ve taken the precaution of calling area hospitals, just in case the ‘EMT’ was on the up-and-up. Spoiler alert—she wasn’t.”
Fury rose in Donovan, a rage he couldn’t remember ever having felt before. “Where is this Morello now?”
“With his therapist.” Alex managed a small grin. “He’s pretty horrified to find out he actually helped with abducting a federal officer, even if it was unwittingly.”
“He’ll never practice law again.” Donovan collected his gun from his desk. “I’m going to make sure of it.”
Kevin sighed. “Donovan, think about it for a second. Yeah, he probably could have checked the woman’s ID, but he’s not an investigator. He’s opposing counsel, and he was still so concerned for Luis’ health he stopped to help him. You’re mad. You should be mad. But maybe redirect that rage a little bit?”
Donovan opened his mouth to snarl at Kevin, but he shut it again. He took a deep breath and put his gun into his holster. “It’s been a rough twenty-four hours. I’m probably not in the best emotional state to be making decisions right now.” He closed his eyes. “There haven’t been any demands, no one’s claimed responsibility?”
“Not yet.” Captain Power glanced over at Morales. “Obviously, the investigation is just beginning. Now, this is a federal investigation. The crime took place on federal property; the crime was against a federal agent during the course of his duties. There’s not a lot of wiggle room here. That said . . .”
Alex cleared his throat. “The FBI is formally requesting the assistance of Lieutenant Donovan Carey for the duration of the search and rescue effort.” He managed a wry grin. “Given that we’re a little short-staffed right now, and given that you’d involve yourself anyway, it seemed prudent. And you’re one of the best investigators we know, so we definitely would have wanted you involved anyway.”
Donovan forced his body to relax. He couldn’t help Luis if he was tearing everyone and everything around him down. And these folks wanted him to help.
He froze. “What about the Southwick shootings?”
Power cleared his throat. “I’ll manage the day-to-day stuff for the department. We’ll call you if we need to. Family’s important, Donovan. You’ll have the full cooperation and support of the state police in any capacity you need, of course.” He stood up. “First things first though. We’ll have someone drive your car home for you. I’m not putting you on the road right now.”
Donovan opened his mouth to object, but he closed it again quickly. He’d do the same for anyone else in a similar situation. “Kevin, can you give me a ride back home?” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “We can talk on the way.”
“Absolutely.” Kevin helped Alex to his feet, and they made their way out into the bright sunshine of an early October afternoon.
Donovan didn’t speak until he was in the car. “Okay.” He buckled his seat belt. “I know you’ve got agents everywhere looking for him, right?”
Kevin grinned and pulled out onto the highway, cutting off a white woman driving a red Prius. She honked her horn at him but stopped when he flipped the sirens on for a second.
“Yeah. SSA Holcombe is down at the site reviewing security camera footage right now. Wragge and Borchard are working the case out in Western Mass. The ambulance was found at a golf course in Newton. Maxwell is processing it with all the care and attention you’d want.” He took a breath. “We’re going to find him.”
“Newton.” Donovan drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Why Newton? Do you think it has anything to do with the Southwick case?”
Kevin shrugged. “We can’t rule anything out right now. It’s certainly possible,
but I’d expect to see them just take him out instead of kidnap him. It’s more their style.”
Donovan barely got the window open in time to avoid being sick in the SUV. “Oh God.” He wiped his mouth before sticking his head back into the car. “What if—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Pain slurred Alex’s words. “Don’t do it. You know better.”
Donovan pushed the thought from his mind. He did know better. Neither he nor any other cop would ever admit to being superstitious, but finishing that sentence would make a horrifying possibility a reality. “Okay. So who else would have a motive for this? Someone involved with a case he’s worked on, or is working on?”
“There’s no shortage of those, I’m afraid.” Kevin sighed. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight Donovan thought he might break it. “We reopened a case last month where it turned out the wrong man had been convicted of murder. More than a few people were upset about that one.”
“I remember him mentioning that. He hated having to put the families through all that pain again.” Donovan ground his teeth. “What about his old man? Any chance Carlos could be reaching out from behind bars to pull a stunt like this?”
“It’s certainly possible, but not probable. Carlos Gomes’ correspondence is triple-checked, and he doesn’t get visitors at all.” Morales shifted in the back seat. “That part isn’t mandated by the prosecutors. No one cares enough to go visit, or at least no one who cares enough has the freedom to visit. I hope you don’t mind, but we do need to look into your father’s potential involvement.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Donovan closed his eyes. “If this had happened six months ago, I’d have said Fred didn’t have it in him to come up with a plan this detailed, but after what he did to me? Yeah, he’s capable.” They still didn’t know the extent of the plan, but setting up the ambulance ahead of time showed a high degree of detail.