Fractured (10 page)

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep. Weird dreams invaded her thoughts. Not surprising, her father once again took center stage. He was talking to her, but she couldn't decipher what he was trying to say. It was almost as if he was speaking in a foreign language. He looked frightened but she didn't know why. She felt like an outsider, unwilling or unable to help him.

The sad part was that she wasn't so sure she wanted to help him. Her cop instincts warred with any daughterly leanings she might possess. He was trying to show her something. But what?

In the dream, he held out Teddy B imploring her to come with him. Her chest constricted. She'd loved that silly bear. Maybe because it reminded her of the elusive father she didn't know. Maybe for the simple reason that she was a child and kids get attached to stuffed animals all the time.

Her grandfather entered the dream, bringing with him the sense of love and overriding commitment. When her mother died, he'd stepped up to the plate and had taken over Isabella's care twenty-four/seven without a hint of hesitation. Even before that time, he'd been a constant in her life.

He'd seen her off to school each day and helped her with homework. And he loved to cook. Being a combination of Italian and Mexican himself, she never knew each day whether they would have lasagna or tamales for dinner.

In the dream she saw him as clearly and plainly as if he were alive. Even though she was asleep, the hug he gave her felt tangible.

Then her phone rang, waking her abruptly. With shaky fingers, she answered. “Sanchez.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts and rid herself of the sensations conjured up by the dream.

“Hey there. What are you up to?”

“I'm in my apartment, Landry. It got sprung from Malone's evil clutches.”

“I should be there with you.”

“I'm fine. It's my place, after all.” But somehow it didn't feel like her place any more.

“I'll come by after shift and stay with you.”

She sat up and the room spun for a few seconds. Those painkillers made her stupid. “No, I'll be fine. I'm going to let you go.” Afraid she might give in if the call lasted too long, she closed up her phone.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to clear her head. She needed to think. She drew up and crossed her legs, resting her arm on her knees. What had her father been trying to tell her in the dream? Or more plausible, what had her subconscious mind been trying to tell her?

Closing her eyes she tried to re-create the last few moments of her dream before she awoke. She still couldn't make any sense of what he'd said or he was trying to say. Then, it hit her.

Teddy B.

Maybe she'd conjured up the idea because she and Landry were discussing it earlier. It seemed logical that she'd dream about it. It was her last real memory of seeing her father alive.

Still curiosity nagged her. Where would her grandfather have put it? Would he have thrown it out?

Somehow she didn't think so. No doubt he was angry when her father got convicted of murder, but surely he wouldn't have gotten rid of it since it was her favorite toy. She had clung to that bear in the months that followed her mother's death. It had been her lifeline, her best friend, her companion when she felt abandoned.

At the time her grandfather had been wracked with grief. While he tried to be there for her, she could see the spark missing from his eyes. Even at a young age, she felt the difference, although until this moment hadn't examined the sequence of events.

Before she had a chance to think anything through, her phone rang again. No doubt it had to be Landry trying to talk her into coming over. He'd never give up after only one try.

“Landry, don't you have any work to do?”

Except it wasn't Landry on the phone. “I know where you can find Lou.”

“Who is this?” Tingles formed along her spine while her stomach suddenly went a little queasy.

Not surprisingly, the caller ignored her question. “Take the Orange line south to Midway Airport. I'll meet you there at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow. Make sure you come alone or it isn't going to happen.”

“But how will I-” She didn't bother to finish her thought. He'd already hung up. She glanced at the caller ID, but the number had been blocked.

This kind of stuff only happens on TV. Even then only a stupid person would comply with a request like that without some kind of back-up plan. She wasn't by any means stupid, and she wasn't going in there defenseless.

With tomorrow being Saturday, she had a much bigger problem. How could she shake Landry? After ten years on the force, he'd earned the Monday through Friday gig. No doubt if she told him about the call, he'd insist on coming with her. If she refused, he'd show up anyway.

She really only had one choice to make if she wanted to keep him away: She couldn't tell him. Then again, that might be foolhardy. But she could wait until she was on the way there to let him know where she'd be. Just in case.

* * *

Landry had been waiting for Isabella to call him back all night, but she hadn't. Sooner or later he'd have to give in and call her, but for once he wished she'd take the initiative.

On their dinner break Jonas munched on the fried catfish, while Landry had ordered the perch. They both sat in companionable silence until Jonas's phone rang.

He pushed back from the table. “I've gotta get this.” Without another word, he walked outside. Normally Jonas wouldn't leave for a simple phone call. Landry figured it was about his kid. Between the worries and the financial expense, as well as what they saw on the streets from people engaged in a druggie lifestyle, Jonas had to be going crazy.

With Jonas out of earshot, Landry figured it would give him the opportunity to make his case one more time to Isabella. “How you doing?”

“All right.” Her voice sounded shaky. “It's weird being back at the apartment, but I'm managing so far.”

“Are you sure you don't want me to spend the night?”

“No.” Her answer came back quick. “I have to get used to this sooner or later. I might as well jump right into the fire.”

If he could get inside maybe she'd agree to let him stay. “Your medication's still at my place. Do you want me to bring it by when I get off?”

“Nope, I'm going to cold turkey it. Besides, that stuff makes me stupid. I need a clear head. I've got some over-the-counter pills. I'll take them.”

“Jonas and I ran across the Kings and the Aces on a street corner being friendly with each other and making like they were signing some kind of peace treaty. I know you haven't been cleared to get back on the job yet, but have you heard anything about some kind of truce?”

“Last time I talked to Matthews it was the day my fath…Mr. Samuels…was killed. He didn't mention anything about a truce. If there is one and it wasn't coerced by the superintendent, it can't be a good thing for us. They've got to be up to something. And I've got to think it involves a whole lot of money and or power.”

“Jonas and I will keep an eye on it, and I'll mention it to your sergeant.” He hesitated for a second, uncertain if he should even bring up the subject. “I also asked them about Ramirez, but they claimed he left town. What do you make of that?”

“I'm not sure, but I'll touch base with Matthews to see if he's heard anything.”

“Can I help you with any legwork tomorrow? I'll be off.”

“No, I'm good.” Again, she answered a little too quickly for comfort. “This is my mess, not yours.”

He knew he couldn't push her. If he did, she'd only get her back up. Instead he thought it would be best to see if he could figure out what she was thinking so he could determine what she'd do next. “You should ask to see those videos from Stateville. If they claim you were there, you have a right to scrutinize them.”

“It seems like a moot point now as this thing plays out. If they really did spring my dad, why would they care if I came to visit him?”

“True. But it would give you a clue as to how deep they went with this. Did they doctor up the tape, or did they go so far as to have somebody impersonate you? Or is it just a case of mistaken identity?”

“It still doesn't make any kind of sense to me.”

“Doesn't it make you curious? I sure am, and I'm not the one being set up.”

“Maybe you're right. I'll put it on my to-do list.” She hesitated for a few seconds as if trying to decide what to do next. “How about if I give you a call tomorrow afternoon after you wake up? You can take me to lunch and help me figure out a way to confront Malone without strangling him with my bare hands.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like it might take all my brainpower to figure that one out.”

“You're a smart guy. I'm pretty sure you're up to the task.”

“Good night, Isabella. Call me if you need me.” He hated to let her go but knew he had to. As soon as he hung up, he called Malone. “Tell whoever you've got watching her to keep a close eye out. She's definitely up to something.”

* * *

Alone in her apartment, Isabella sat in the living room with her notepad and tried to develop a timeline for what and how everything happened. Some things she knew. Some things she had to approximate, like her father's departure from Stateville. According to his cellmate, Angus, her dad's faked death had occurred two weeks earlier than he'd actually died. She had to assume the Feds had broken him out on the same day as the fake stabbing.

The only logical explanation was that he had some information the Feds desperately needed. It must have to do with somebody inside the prison, or somebody who had connections inside the prison, or they wouldn't have developed the elaborate ruse and faked his death. Could she assume that they had planned to put her father into some kind of witness protection program? Or had the Feds planned to simply transfer him to another prison in the middle of nowhere? And what was he doing for the two weeks between the time he left Stateville and the night he ended up dead in her apartment?

He was dying. How did that play into the scenario? Or did it? Was it a red herring of some sort, or was it the impetus for him to come clean?

Geez. This whole thing was getting more and more complicated.

In fact, the more she thought about it, they had to have somebody pose as her and visit with her father to pull this off. They wanted somebody on the inside to know she'd been there.

But why?

Who would care? Who even knew her? Sure she was Chicago PD, but more than likely that meant diddly-squat to the guys inside.

Maybe the place to start would be a list of the current inmates. She should be able to ascertain that information fairly easily. As soon as she was cleared for duty, she'd run that list herself.

She glanced down at her arm. Big frickin' problem. There'd be more paperwork to complete before she could get the medical okay to be back on the job. No doubt she'd have to jump through a few hoops to get clearance.

That didn't mean she couldn't be reassigned to a desk job for a couple of weeks. She could field phone calls and stuff like that. Working mostly inside, it would be much easier for her to gain the information she needed. She'd also have more access to Malone the moron. In fact, she should put that on the top of her To-Do list: Go to the federal building on Dearborn and see if she could rattle his cage.

Although, in her experience, most Feds didn't rattle very easily. She would bet Malone would be a tough one to crack.

She popped a frozen pizza into the oven. It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

By three in the morning, she'd finally fallen asleep in the spare room. She couldn't bring herself to sleep in her own bed.

Uncertain if it was her nap this afternoon, or the pain that seemed to radiate up and down her arm, or the fact she was still creeped out by being in her apartment, or the even more disturbing idea that she'd grown used to having Landry beside her when she slept, she tossed and turned until she'd nearly resigned herself to not sleeping at all.

Finally, blessedly, she fell asleep. Luckily the dreams from yesterday didn't reappear. Her respite was short-lived as she awoke again at six-thirty.

Instinct had her wondering why the caller told her to take the Orange line to Midway Airport. Driving would be much easier and faster, especially on a Saturday.

Except he, more than likely, didn't want her to go inside the airport. Then again, he could easily be lost in the hustle and bustle of a busy airport. But somehow she didn't think that was his agenda.

He wanted to meet with her in person, which meant she had to be prepared for every eventuality. The guy could be blowing smoke or looking for money. He could be playing the odds and hoping she'd be dumb enough to follow his lead. Or he could really know where Lou and Cynthia were hiding.

Her ruminations along with preparations took her until eight. She stuffed the handkerchief inside her pocket and walked out the door. By the time she got to the bottom step, she spotted Leo curled up on her front porch.

“Leo, are you okay?” She bent down to nudge him with her hand.

He woke slowly and smiled. “Detective. Sorry about the other night. I got arrested.”

“I heard.” He looked more worn and tired than usual. “Are you okay?”

“Been better.” He shrugged and sat up. “I have to talk to you.” He coughed.

“What's going on?”

“Annie's gone.” He motioned with his hands. “Poof. Like magic.”

She got a nauseous feeling inside. “Maybe she's laying low. I tried to find her the other night but things got a little crazy.” She pointed to her arm.

“That's why I came by. I guess some guys came down to Wacker. They encouraged the group to refuse to talk to you and handed out wads of cash.”

Only the feds and drug dealers could throw around that kind of money. “Did anybody say what they looked like?”

“Gangbangers. Scared the guys pretty bad, and with the money incentive they weren't going to give up anything.”

“Do you know who attacked me?”

He shook his head. “Don't know for sure, but I heard it might have been the same guys that handed out the money.”

He coughed several more times. “They said they'd made Annie disappear. They could do the same to them.” He pulled at the sleeve of her good arm. “I came to warn you off. Whoever is involved isn't playing around.”

“But that's got to mean Annie knew something.” She hated to consider the idea the homeless woman might have been killed because of her.

He nodded. “I got a bad feeling about this whole thing. You need to take care.”

“Thanks, Leo. That's sweet of you. But I can take care of myself.”

“That's what Annie always said, too.” He turned to walk away.

She grabbed his arm. “Can I do anything for you?”

“No, ma'am. I'm fine.”

“Then let me give you some money and rent you a room for a couple of nights. It's the least I can do.”

“I couldn't do that.” He started to shuffle away but she stopped him once again.

“I've got a vacant apartment right here. Please. You look sick. You need to be inside where it's warm.”

“I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.” Without another word he shuffled down the street.

Leo's visit had left her shaken. Why would somebody eliminate a poor homeless woman? And why would they threaten and pay people not to cooperate with her?

Guilt spread a path through her body zeroing in on her chest. She could take care of herself but getting innocent people mixed up in this was another matter altogether.

Despite dire warnings from Leo, among others, she had to go through with this. She walked the couple of blocks to the Brown line and boarded the train. It was only then she made the call to Landry.

* * *

“You're doing what?” Landry couldn't get out of bed fast enough. “Do not do anything until I get there.” He slipped into jeans and shirt while he had Isabella on speaker phone.

“I'm already on the train headed for Midway.”

“Let me get this straight. You're going alone into a situation you don't know anything about, following the directive of some guy you don't know because…”

“He knows about Lou. Don't you see? That's where it all began.” He heard the doors whoosh close in the background. “And that's why I called you.”

“Why? To make me go crazy?” He put on his tennis shoes and grabbed his coat. “I'll call in a unit.”

“That will scare him off. Besides, Midway's a big place, with lots of people, and tons of uniformed cops. I'm sure I'll be fine.”

* * *

Isabella shook off any misgivings about the phone call and focused on her surroundings. The sparse population on the train seemed normal given the early hour and the fact it was a Saturday. She examined the inhabitants of the train car, taking note of proximity and perceived threat.

A woman sat alone in a seat, her head leaning against the window. Isabella could tell the woman had had a rough night of drinking based on her body language and the lingering smell of alcohol wafting around her. If she had to guess, the woman was doing the ‘walk of shame' back to her own place after a one-nighter with a guy on the north side. Although her story might be interesting, she was definitely not a threat.

A young man sat a couple of rows to the left wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. Based on his demeanor, she would bet he was accustomed to wearing a suit and tie every day. She would guess he was a new lawyer paying his dues at the law firm working on a Saturday.

A student wearing a backpack sat a couple of seats in front of her. A mother with two young children sat down directly across from her. The mother looked barely out of her teens, but her children were about pre-school age. The youngest one was sitting on the mother's lap with her nose pressed against the window. The older girl, who couldn't have been more than four or five, sat closest to the aisle and concentrated on coloring a picture she had on her lap. She looked at Isabella and smiled in that innocent way children did.