The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

by Danielle Stewart

  “So you think we still should go over the case?” Dallas asked, sounding unsure.

  “I think your gut steers you the right way. I also think your life and your choices are not dictated by anything besides your own free will. There was a line in the sand with your job, with the way you were acting about Tim’s case. It was you who decided to cross it. Tim is taking way too much responsibility for your screw-ups. Next time you two talk, don’t let him do that.”

  “You’re smart,” Dallas said, kissing the top of her head and smoothing her hair. “How did you get this smart?”

  “I’m well read,” she boasted. “I have almost every fairy tale memorized. I even do the voices. Now you go to sleep. I can practically hear the wheels in your head turning. Everything will make more sense in the morning.”

  “Tell me a story,” he said, rolling on his side and locking eyes with her. “Do the voices.” He wore a wide smile and tucked her hair back behind her ears, looking desperate to see her whole face.

  “Once upon a time in a faraway land,” she began and his eyes closed, the smile fading, his body relaxing as she curled against him again, “there was a man so brave he swore to protect the people who needed him. Brave and charming, the man never stopped trying to make the world a better place for the people he cared about.”

  “What was his name?” Dallas asked through a smirk, his eyes closed, his body still.

  “Texas,” Harlan continued. “His name was Texas, and he was handsome and smart. The only person in the world smarter than him was the princess he was sworn to protect.”

  “Smarter, huh?”

  “Light years smarter,” she giggled. “But that didn’t stop them from wanting to be together. The princess didn’t mind talking slow and explaining things a few times.”

  “This princess sounds like a pain in the ass,” Dallas interrupted.

  “You’re right,” Harlan sighed. “Maybe Texas should cut his losses and ride off on his trusty steed.”

  “He can’t,” Dallas said, throwing his warm leg over her and intertwining their limbs.

  “Why?”

  “He’s falling for her,” Dallas whispered. “He couldn’t leave her now even if he wanted to.”

  Chapter 21

  “Pancakes or French toast?” Dallas asked as they shuffled into the kitchen and rubbed sleep from their eyes.

  “Please don’t tell me you can cook. I’m not sure I can handle any more perfection.”

  “I can’t,” he admitted. “I just figured I could wing it once I got in here. What makes the toast French exactly?”

  “Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the stool in front of the kitchen island. “I’ll teach you how to make pancakes, then you can teach me something.”

  “Didn’t I teach you a few things last night?” Dallas teased coyly. “It felt like there were a few surprises in there for you.”

  “Pleasant surprises,” she agreed. “But I want to know something different. Teach me some self-defense moves. I’ll show you the basics of breakfast, you show me how to kick someone’s ass.”

  “You’re worried?” Dallas asked, concern flooding him. “I’m going to keep you safe, and I’ll make sure whoever Emmitt replaces me with is highly trained to do the same.”

  “I know that,” she waved off his argument. “I still would like to know a few moves. Unless you don’t think I’m capable.”

  “Oh please,” he laughed, “you’re the perfect example of mama bear strength. You know how they say a mom can lift a car off her child? They’re talking about a mom like you.”

  “So we have a deal then?” Harlan asked, shooting her hand out for a shake that would seal the agreement.

  “I’ll show you a few moves if you promise not to rely on them instead of calling for help. Don’t go grabbing a cape and tights and think you’re going to save the world just because I teach you how to break a windpipe.”

  She nodded, and he wearily shook her hand. “You take out the case files and start reading to me while I crack the eggs. If you think Tim is withholding something that could help his case, we need to find out why. I can’t imagine anyone would sit in jail if they had evidence that could free them, but I trust your gut.”

  “You jump in with questions if you have any.” Dallas thumbed through the boxes for a few minutes like he was following a long rope, trying to find its origins. “Here’s Larry’s testimony. I was in the courtroom that day, but my blood was boiling so much I could hardly hear. I won’t be surprised if some of this is news to me.”

  “Give me the highlights,” Harlan instructed as she grabbed an apron and a whisk.

  “Larry states that on that night Angus didn’t come home from the restaurant. Tim murdered him. He robbed the restaurant and it went bad, and Tim shot him. When asked how he knew this, Larry said a couple days after that Angus’s murder hit the news. While sitting in a breakfast place, Tim started to explain how he killed Angus. Apparently Tim informed Larry where the body was buried and asked for help burning his own clothes.”

  “It’s just so bizarre that Tim didn’t have a way to prove he had nothing to do with this. Justice is supposed to keep these things from happening.”

  “There is absolutely no forensic evidence linking Tim to Angus. His car was gone over thoroughly by investigators. No one could testify that Tim owned a gun. I certainly never saw him with one.”

  “And he was home?” Harlan asked as she sprinkled out some cinnamon. “No activity on his credit cards or his cell phone or anything?”

  “His cell had been disconnected for nonpayment. He was having some financial trouble, but he had it under control. With it being off, it couldn’t be used to confirm he, or at least his phone, was at home.”

  “He couldn’t find one person to say they saw him? A neighbor who could say his car was in the driveway?”

  “It was because the body went undiscovered for so long. Getting people to recall a normal day in any kind of detail is difficult. Tim had an unusual schedule, working odd jobs at different hours. He couldn’t be nailed down on a regular day. Angus was seen by his customers at the restaurant when it closed at eight that night. They always closed early on Sundays. But he never arrived home.”

  “This guy you talked to at the restaurant, he thinks this could be some kind of extortion thing?”

  “It’s called a protection ring.”

  “Like the mob?” Harlan asked, skeptically. “Are we really thinking this could be some old-school hit?”

  “I don’t,” Dallas said. “The landscape of organized crime is unrecognizable compared to a few decades ago. It’s not a bunch of guys with slicked back hair and gold chains threatening to put cement shoes on people. It’s about technology now, importing counterfeit products and muling drugs. Drugs rule the world right now, and you know Massachusetts is seeing epidemic levels of it. Angus could have been paying to keep the drugs off his corner. To keep the drug dealers or addicts from robbing him.”

  “So you have to pay the people who are causing the problem to keep the problem from landing on your doorstep?”

  “Basically, but some businesses feel like it’s worth it. If they are robbed the protection money buys them some kind of follow up. People start to understand that your business is not one to cross. It’s flawed obviously, but it’s been around a while. A guy like Angus probably didn’t want to make waves, so he paid. He had a family to think of.”

  “Do you think he broke some kind of rule? Didn’t pay or something? Would that be reason enough to kill him?”

  “Twenty years ago I’d say yes, but none of these guys are trying to go away for murder. They’re creating empires. Not to mention that it’s harder than ever to get away with something like that. Between forensics and cameras on every corner, they’ve found other ways to get what they want. Other threats and tactics. It would be out of the ordinary to think lack of payment would result in Angus being killed. They get nothing now. They aren’t collecting from the daughter.”

&
nbsp; “Why not?”

  “I don’t know,” Dallas shrugged, paying close attention to the batter Harlan had whipped up. The pan was popping and hissing with the butter she’d dropped in. “Compassion might be a factor. Losing the patriarch of the family might be enough for them to back off. That’s why it doesn’t make sense that they would kill him for nonpayment if they never intended to collect from the family after. From a business standpoint it makes no sense.”

  “They were ready to kill the patriarch of my family,” Harlan challenged, her nostrils flaring with sudden anger. “The guys who took my daughters and me seemed like they were lacking that compassion.”

  “Actually those are the exact tactics I was talking about. You were leverage, and the kind no one in your family would be able to ignore. The likelihood they had actually killed your father was probably low.”

  “We should have just rolled the dice then,” Harlan snapped. “We’d have a bag of money back now, and my girls wouldn’t be scared of bad guys.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dallas hurried. “I know it was bad. It was real. I shouldn’t have said that. Only with Angus, I don’t think the theory of some kind of crime organization killing him for money works. It’s a weak theory.”

  “What’s a strong theory then?” Harlan asked, her voice filled with impatience and frustration.

  “Larry,” Dallas said flatly. “He led the police to the body. He knew details of the case no one else would. Look,” he flipped a file toward Harlan who gave it only a fraction of her attention, “the day he was arrested and decided to tell this story of the murder, he was picked up at a building three doors down from Angus’s restaurant. Someone saw him kicking in a back door.”

  “Maybe he was trying to rob Angus?” Harlan guessed, dropping perfect circles of batter into the pan. “You said his parents had cut him off.”

  “Could be motive,” Dallas said, scribbling down some notes.

  “But why wouldn’t the cops assume Larry was involved in some way? Who has that much information about a murder and doesn’t get added to the list of suspects?” Harlan furrowed her brows.

  “Open cases are a drag on the system. Closing a murder is a top priority. Doing it quickly keeps it out of the papers as an unsolved crime. People worry, they press the cops, and it goes up the chain. They’re highly motivated to arrest someone. Tim couldn’t account for his time.”

  “Innocent until proven guilty goes out the window huh?” Harlan skillfully flipped the pancakes with some flare that made Dallas laugh.

  “It was a perfect storm. His lawyer’s problems left him vulnerable. Right down to jury selection. He didn’t root out the right people. That’s the most important part of a trial. He had basically no defense and a biased jury handpicked by the prosecution.”

  “And you’re certain?” Harlan asked, scrutinizing his face. “There isn’t even a shadow of a doubt in your mind about Tim? You said you think he’s hiding something, but not about the murder.”

  “I’d swear on my mother’s grave that Tim is innocent. There is no motive for him, even needing money wouldn’t drive him to murder. If it came to it, and Tim was in a life-or-death situation, I’m not even sure he could pull the trigger. Hurting people is his worst nightmare.”

  “Where do we go next on this?” Harlan asked, filling his plate with pancakes and sliding the syrup his way.

  “I’ve got feelers out to people in the community. I want to know what group might be responsible for the protection ring. It’s not to say they are involved, but maybe Larry was mixed up with them in some way. Working as a bagman or something.”

  “Which is?”

  “The guy who collects the money and brings it back. It’s pretty low level, but Tim said he always wanted to get in with people like that.”

  Dallas’s phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket. “This might be something.” He hopped to his feet and started pacing the room.

  “I’ll keep these warm.”

  Chapter 22

  “That was Larry’s ex-girlfriend, Bentley. She confirmed what Tim told me. Larry was constantly looking for a way up the ladder in these local crime organizations. He wanted in.”

  “Is that relevant?”

  “It is if he was willing to kill in order to prove how badass he was. Now I just have to figure out who exactly he might have been trying to get in with. Bentley didn’t know.”

  “She was willing to talk to you about him?”

  “Their breakup wasn’t exactly amicable; she was more than willing to fill me in on whatever might screw him. She was actually surprised the police never reached out to her during the investigation. The night Angus went missing Larry was supposed to pick her up from her mother’s house in Gloucester. He never showed, said he had a flat tire.”

  “She thinks he’s lying about that?”

  “I get the feeling Bentley keeps close tabs on whoever she’s dating. She said she checked and the spare tire was still in the trunk the next day when she saw him.”

  “How does she know it was the same day?” Harlan asked tentatively. “Like you said, people have trouble remembering ordinary days.”

  “That Sunday was her mother’s fiftieth birthday party. She was already pissed Larry didn’t show for that, but to leave her there all night had her steaming. It made her late for work the next day at the mall. Another friend had to come pick her up.”

  “That would align with Larry’s story though. If he says he helped Tim that night, that’s why he wouldn’t have been able to pick her up that night.”

  “But he blew off the party because he swore he had something big he had to do, a job that would change everything. He’d finally be taken seriously. Those are quotes from her. I can’t believe no one took her statement.”

  “Is she still willing to go on record if they reach out to her now? Could that be enough to get him a new trial?”

  “I’m going to call Melissa today and see what she thinks. The problem is Larry claims they transported the body in Tim’s car. His own car wasn’t checked for forensic evidence.”

  “And it would be too late now?”

  “Someone would have to be willing to do that, to pay for it. Melissa is already working for next to nothing because she believes in Tim. We can’t get a forensic analysis team to do the same. Not to mention the car needs to be tracked down, Bentley said Larry got rid of it about three weeks after the flat tire thing. She thinks he sold it to a guy named Spike.”

  “Spike?” Harlan asked, smirking. “Some interesting characters in all this.”

  “I should be able to ask around and track the car down if it’s still local. I’ll start there.”

  “I’ll pay for the forensics,” Harlan offered casually. “I’m happy to help.”

  “No,” Dallas dismissed quickly. “I’m not looking for that. That’s not what I meant when I brought it up. I don’t want you to think—”

  “Good,” she laughed. “Because I don’t think that. I think that you care about your friend, and you’ve done everything you can to help him. So you had better be willing to accept this from me. Think about what that could mean if any forensic evidence linking Angus to Larry’s car could be found. Blood. Think about that. It would undermine all of his statement. It would call everything into question, and they’d have no choice but to give Tim a new trial. You’re doing this.”

  “I’m not sure I can,” Dallas cautioned. “I’m not sure it’s right.”

  “Losing your job, the career you loved, was worth it but your ego is too big of a roadblock for you to take my money?”

  “Yes,” Dallas claimed, a pathetic smile lighting his face. “I think that’s what I’m saying.”

  “Well stop saying it. You sound like a fool, and I don’t want to fall for a fool.” The words hung between them as thick as the syrup he’d just poured over the pancakes on his plate. “Don’t look at me like that,” she teased. “You said it first last night. They’re just words. Don’t make a big deal. You know w
hat I mean.”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes fixed on her face. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Chapter 23

  “I’ve got everything lined up with Melissa for the car. We even have a lead on where it is.” The excitement on Dallas’s face was enough to make Harlan buzz with anticipation herself.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, there’s a guy who goes by the name Spike who registered the car in the city. Melissa reached out to him. She’s lining up the independent lab now. It’s not a fast process, like you see on the movies, but it’s promising. I’m looking forward to telling Tim.”

  “You’re not worried he’s going to be pissed that you ignored his demands?”

  “I don’t care. He doesn’t know what he wants. He’s been in there too long, and he’s confused. I know what’s best, and that’s getting him out. His argument is crazy. He thinks I can’t have a life and help him. I can’t be happy and free him, but look, we’re proving that wrong.”

  “You’re happy?” Harlan asked, sliding her hand into his as the truck bounced down the road toward the next surprise.

  “I’m getting there,” he joked, raising her hand up to his lips and kissing it gently.

  “How about you?”

  “I can sort of remember what happy feels like, at this point I’ll consider that a win.”

  “As sorry as I was to leave the cabin I know you’re going to like this place. The food is amazing. I ate like a king there.”

  They pulled up in front of the colorful awnings and washed-out brick of the Italian restaurant.

  “Is this Angus’s place?” Harlan questioned nervously. “Do you think it’s a good idea we come around here? It feels like we’re intruding on something, being misleading.”

  “Genie was a nice girl the last time I came in. She lost her father in a terrible way. We’re on her side, trying to find out what really happened. I don’t plan to tell her anything yet. I’m just back here for the meatballs.”