Enemies and Playmates (40 page)

Alex rapped once on the closed door to the den. Without waiting for a response, he pushed it open and stepped inside. James was seated behind his oversized mahogany desk. He glanced up. Seeing Alex, he put his coffee mug and newspaper down. “Hello Alex,” he said. “What brings you here?”

Alex closed the door behind him. He sank into a padded leather chair. “I have a way to clear my name,” he said. “I will require your cooperation.”

James nodded. The lines around his eyes had deepened. He looked tired, worn. He said, “I’ve been doing my best to steer the investigation away from you. It isn’t easy. As you know, the evidence, however circumstantial, isn’t weighing well for you. Particularly since Kara had recently left you and taken out a restraining order.”

Alex waved James off. He didn’t need to be reminded. He’d made his living by manipulating what people thought of as absolute. He said, “I want Alison Robbins charged for contracting the attempted murder on Kara.”

“Alison Robbins? Isn’t she -”

“Yes, yes. She and I were involved for a time.”

James opened his mouth to speak. He stopped, cleared his throat. “We have no evidence,” he said. “No motive. I can’t simply arrest and charge her.”

“You’ll have what you need,” Alex said.

He crossed his legs, automatically straightening the seam of his pants. Now that he was about to set his perfect plan in motion, he relaxed and easily fell into his normal take-charge roll.

“Alison and Marc Wilkes had an ongoing affair, during which time he was also seeing my wife,” Alex said. “When Kara made the impulsive decision to leave me and go to him, Wilkes broke off his relationship with Alison. Consumed by a jealous rage, Alison contracted Kestler to murder both Kara and Wilkes. Sadly, Lauren, rather than Wilkes, was present at the condo with Kara.”

Barnes swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He stroked the stubble on his chin, his eyes fixed on Alex. “I don’t suppose any of this has a shred of truth.”

“Since when is that an issue for you?”

Barnes looked away. “I’ll need evidence pointing right at Alison. And enough leads to put this all together. She’s not even in the picture right now.”

“Give me twenty-four hours,” Alex said. “Your precinct will receive an anonymous tip that will lead you to Alison’s home. Everything you require will be found there. Providing your detectives do their jobs adequately, we will have no further problems.”

“Any chance my detectives, in the normal course of this investigation, will unwittingly uncover evidence connecting you to Alison?”

“Of course not.”

“What if she talks?” Barnes asked. “Naturally she’ll want to point this back at you. I don’t know of any woman willing to take a murder rap for an ex lover.”

“I am no fool, James. Alison will not be speaking to anyone. She’ll be found dead in her home. Shot with a gun you’ll later find at Ryder’s home. Justice for his lover. My daughter.”

“He’ll be emphatic,” Alex said. A smirk played at the corners of his lips. “Rightfully so, as he’ll be telling the truth. Not that the truth will help him.”

“You’ve thought this through well, so I assume you have an answer for this dilemma.”

“Kara will learn of Wilkes’ affair with Alison. The evidence will be overwhelming, despite his adamant denials. Naturally she will be distraught when she hears he not only had another woman, but that woman is responsible for her daughter’s injury, as well as her own. Kara has a history of instability. I can attest to that. And, after all, she did recently lose one child. The knowledge that she almost lost another, especially due to her own marital indiscretions, pushes her over the edge. She will take his life, then her own.”

Barnes sat back. “I have to hand it to you, Alex. That’s the most elaborate cover I’ve ever heard. And it’ll work. Everyone who can testify against you is gone, which will make even the early charges against you difficult to prosecute. All loose ends taken care of.”

“The only way to get ahead in life.”

31

Jesse sprang up. Beads of sweat slid from his forehead. He blinked several times to focus his vision. The room was dark. His bedroom. Not a morgue. Only a nightmare. Lauren was alive.

With a heavy sigh, he collapsed back on the bed. He glanced at the clock. 4:17 a.m. He leaned over, grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand, and punched in the hospital’s number. The nurse he spoke to was polite, even at this hour of the morning. Lauren’s condition was stable. No change.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything the previous day. But he wasn’t hungry. And was no longer tired. He pushed the covers off and headed for the shower. Fifteen minutes later he was tucking his gun into his jeans and zipping his jacket over it.

***

Lauren’s eyes flew open as she gasped for breath. The nightmare faded while she lay still, listening to the machine beep beside her. The clock on the opposite wall read 5:21. The hospital bed was uncomfortable. Her stitches itched. Tears slid down her cheeks but her hands hurt too much to bother wiping them away.

She closed her eyes again, faded in and out of awareness. A nurse came in, took her vital signs, fixed her covers. Then she was alone again.

She wanted her father dead. The thought brought her no comfort, no remorse. Just a simple fact that she’d come to accept. Revenge wasn’t so much the issue as peace of mind. As long as he was alive, she’d never be free of him. Nor would Jesse. Or her mother.

Lauren now believed that, even if her father was locked away in prison for the next twenty years, he would find a way to get to them. Revenge was a driving force for her father.

While she admitted to herself that she wanted her father dead, she couldn’t say it to Jesse. Not yet. She had no doubt that if she said her wish aloud, Jesse would happily make it a reality. She didn’t want him taking that risk. She didn’t want to lose him.

Yet wasn’t she chancing that each and every day that her father was alive? In her father’s eyes, Jesse was to blame for everything that was happening. Her father had nothing left to lose. His greatest pleasure would be in destroying his nemesis.

The second hand on the clock slowly ticked away the time. How much longer before someone else was hurt? And who would be left standing in the end?

***

Jesse circled the block three times. No sign of cops watching the place. He parked his Mustang in the side alley and sat for a full five minutes. No one around watching him. No sign of life at all. Apparently this neighborhood didn’t like the pre-dawn experience any more than he did.

He stepped out of his car and stretched. He locked the doors, set his alarm, and strode around to the front of the building. The stench of cat urine seeped out from the first floor apartment. He quietly climbed the steps to the third floor. He stood beside Dominic Forenzi’s door. The only sound came from a baby crying one floor below.

Jesse tried to doorknob. Unlocked. He eased it open. Inside was dark and silent. He waited a full minute before stepping into the darkness.

He peeked into the kitchen. Nothing. Back through the living room, over to the bathroom. Aside from something that smelled like raw sewage, he found nothing.

Three long strides brought him to the bedroom door. Before he even entered, he had a good idea of what he’d find. The coppery scent of blood wafted out to him as he pushed open the door. In the darkness, Jesse could make out the bulky form of Dominic Forenzi’s body heaped on the bed.

Jesse flicked the light switch on. A murky bulb cast Forenzi’s body in half light, half shadow. He hadn’t been dead long. Maybe an hour or two, as far as Jesse could tell. One clean bullet hole through his forehead and the back of his skull shattered across the mattress.

Jesse sighed. Covington had gotten to Forenzi first. So much for plan A. On to plan B. Keeping promises sucked. This whole thing would be a lot easier if he could just pop Covington himself.

Jesse left the apartment as quietly as he’d come. No one was on the street. He climbed back in his car and was long gone before the neighborhood awoke.

***

Carrie and Gina poked their heads inside Lauren’s hospital room. “Okay if we come in?” Carrie asked.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal,” Lauren said. “I don’t know. Jesse and I think my father hired the guy to kill my mother. Maybe Marc, too. But I had decided to ditch classes that day and hang out with my mom. No one else knew I’d be there.”

Gina swiped at a gush of tears. “You’re sure it wasn’t a robbery or something? I mean, to have your mom killed… I know Alex has a mean streak but… to have her killed?”

“Why would he want to kill your mom, anyway?” Carrie asked. “She’d already left him.”

“That’s exactly why,” Lauren said. “She’d embarrassed him, not only by leaving but she’d moved in with another man. Plus she’d gotten a temporary restraining order against him and was free to talk about how abusive he was. Maybe even tell the truth about Stephen’s death.”

“No,” Lauren said. “Not in the physical sense, anyway. I don’t want to get into it now, okay? I’ll tell you both all the details, I promise. Just not now.”

Carrie and Gina exchanged a look. Gina said, “Have you seen him? Your father?”

Lauren told her friends about her father’s appearance in her room the previous day. Lauren studied Gina as she spoke. She seemed fragile, more like a little girl than Lauren had ever seen. She said, “Are you still seeing him?”

“No,” Gina replied. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” She shook her head. Tears once again slid down her cheeks. “In a weird way I miss him so much. Logically I know that’s crazy. I was so stupid to believe him.”

Carrie squeezed Gina’s hand. “You were young, not stupid.”

“He showed you what he wanted you to see,” Lauren said. “Just like he does with everyone in his life. Maybe if I’d had the courage to be honest about my life a long time ago, none of this would have happened.”

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for any of this,” Carrie said. “Both of you have to stop. There’s only one person responsible for this mess.”

The girls were silent a moment. A knock on the door broke the quiet. Paul Stosh and Raymond Sabian, Lauren’s boss and coworker, stood in the doorway. Paul said, “Are we interrupting?”

“No,” Lauren said. “C’mon in.”

Paul asked Lauren about her condition and how she was feeling. Lauren gave him the highlights, leaving her father out of the story. For now. She had no proof and didn’t want to say anything she might regret. After all, her boss was a newspaper editor and sometimes it was hard for him to separate friendship from work.

“I should be back to work in a couple of weeks,” Lauren said. “As soon as my hands have healed somewhat.”

“No rush,” Paul said.

Raymond gave Lauren one of the dazzling smiles for which he was notorious. All gleaming white teeth and dimples. Between that, the jet black curls, the rock hard muscles, and the little diamond stud in his ear, most women found him irresistible. For Lauren, he was a little too bulky, a little too boisterous. But she noticed that Carrie was watching him with rapt attention and that made her smile.

Lauren suddenly felt vulnerable, sitting in her hospital gown on the little hospital bed. Hooked to IVs and machines. Paul and Raymond both looked at her with too much sympathy. She wondered what they wanted. Part of her was afraid to hear. She didn’t want to be the victim in the next lead story. She didn’t want to have to relive what she’d gone through. Not just yet.

“I wanted to talk to you about that article we’d discussed a few days ago,” Paul said. “Naturally we’ve already done a few pieces based on what we know. However, we’d still like to run with a more in-depth piece, something with a personal slant. So, my point is, are you still willing to work with Ray?”