Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 (18 page)

“You are serious.”

“As fuck.”

We settle on a number that he is more than happy with.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” I say.

“Were you and Mr. Hart planning to marry?”

Wow. That knocks me for a loop and takes me back to my conversation with Kolson when how he never would tell me about his issues.

“I think we would have eventually. But not right away. We weren’t in a rush, you know?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“No, Jack. It’s all right.”

“Is there anything else you need to review with me? If not, there are some things that need my attention.”

“Nope. You’re off the hook here.”

“Gabby, thanks for taking care of me financially.”

“That wasn’t me, Jack. You deserve it. You did it on your own.”

Jack leaves me to my thoughts so I skim through Kolson’s computer files. He’s savvy and smart. There has to be some kind of a file he keeps on Langston. Searching his database, I enter every known parameter I can come up with, including his name, the dragon, dragon slayer, creep, abuser, and so on but come up empty-handed. Since I can’t find anything in here, I turn to Google and run searches on him. I include the FBI in them and start to come up with all sorts of crimes that his name has been linked to. There are murders, shady business takeovers, most dealing with Atlantic City or Las Vegas, investment deals gone wrong where investors lost money but nothing could be proven, and the list goes on. No wonder Kolson wanted to get out of there. And the photos … my God, in every one, Kestrel is right beside him. And he looks excruciatingly uncomfortable. It’s pitiful, really. There’s something so disturbing about it, I want to reach into each picture and pull Kestrel out.

A couple of news articles detail how they suspect Langston’s casinos of using rigged roulette wheels and crooked dealers. Unfortunately, none of this has ever been verified by the use of security cameras or the regional gambling authorities.

My head swims with information on him. Maybe I need to talk to Case about this, but when I check my watch, I see how late it is and realize I never ate lunch.

I shut down the computer, grab my purse, and say goodbye to Jack. I’m meeting Case at NA tonight and I need to go home and grab a bite first.

Lydia is still here when I step off the elevator and my mouth immediately waters when I smell the evidence of her culinary talents.

“Ah, Dr. Martinelli. I’m so glad I’ve caught you. I’ve left you some coq au vin on the stove simmering. You have mashed potatoes to go with it. Please eat. You are getting too skinny,” she admonishes.

“Lydia, are you ever going to call me Gabby?”

“No. Never.” She laughs. “Oh, and Mr. Kolson’s brother keeps calling the house phone. He says he needs to speak with you.”

“Too bad. He can wait.”

“Are you working again tonight?”

“I am. I have to leave around six.”

“Okay. Promise me you’ll eat!”

“I’ll eat.”

“Mr. Kolson wouldn’t like it if he knew you weren’t eating.”

“Lydia, did Langston ever come up here?”

“No, not that I’m aware of. And if he did, Mr. Kolson would’ve told him to leave. He did not like that man.”

“Thank you for feeding me and taking care of me, Lydia.”

She gathers her things and is gone. I fix a plate; the food smells divine and tastes even better. Lydia is a fabulous cook. The chicken is tender and falls off the bone and the potatoes are so yummy.

When I’m done, I hurry into Kolson’s office and turn on his computer. I’m still on the hunt for anything he might have on Langston. But after forty-five minutes, I find nothing. It’s time to meet Case, so I head out, my ride waiting for me.

On the way to NA, I decide that Kolson wouldn’t be so careless to leave information on his dad sitting in a file on his computer. He would take it with him or it would be somewhere inaccessible, hidden behind security codes. I’ll discuss it with him the next time I see him.

Sky also calls and we briefly catch up. I am vague about things because the truth is I can’t tell her much. I also don’t want to be around her because I don’t want to give Langston any more fuel than he already has. Avoiding my friends is the best way to keep them safe for now.

As soon as I see Case, I practically throw myself at him. When I’m hugging him, I ask, “Did he make contact with you?”

“Yeah. We’ll talk about it later,” he mumbles back.

The meeting goes like they always do. Case is magical in the way he turns the attitudes around in the room. Addicts walk in, down and hopeless, and within a few minutes of listening to him, there’s a hint of a spark in their eyes. I can feel the optimism bloom in the room. Case should’ve been the psychiatrist, not me. He’s probably helped more people than I ever will. And considering what’s happening in my life, my goals have certainly changed. Save Kolson and maim his father, at the very least.

As I sit and reflect, I think about how much I’ve changed in the past year. Gone is the timid, frightened girl who could barely pay for a cup of coffee. In her place sits one of the wealthiest women in the state, and I’m pondering how I’m going to wipe someone off the face of the earth. Call me Dr. Evil. I laugh inwardly. Maybe I should give him a dose of electroconvulsive therapy without anesthesia and see how he likes it. Oh, the thought makes me giggle. Jesus, Gabby, you’re sick.

I turn my focus back to a saner topic: Case and his addicts. He’s at the point now where he’s asking people to join in the conversation if they feel comfortable doing so. Some of the newbies introduce themselves, and some don’t. Some will never come back again but some will and if they do, Case will do his best to keep them coming again and again. He’s so dedicated; he makes my heart feel optimistic too. At the end, he mentions me and lets them know I’m there if they need me. A couple of people approach and ask me questions about rehab and the clinic. Their biggest concerns are withdrawal. I explain that the clinic is medically supervised and tell them it’s safe and effective but not easy. They’ll still have cravings. They’ll still want to use and there’ll still be a strong possibility of relapse. That’s where Case and NA come in.

“The questions you must ask yourself are how bad do you want to quit using? And do you want your substance du jour to control your life, or do you want to take control of it? When you give me the right answers, I can help guide you in the right direction.”

One man, perhaps my age, late twenties, looks at me and says, “I’m ready. I want to quit and I’m tired of not being in control. I’ve already lost everything. There’s nothing left for me to lose, except maybe my life.”

I hand him a card, with the clinic address and my name on it, with written information on exactly where to go and who to see.

He thanks me and right before he leaves, I say, “We’ll see you back here in about six weeks.”

“Yeah.” He nods and leaves.

When everyone is gone, Case and I chat. Our voices are hushed as we sit in the corner, our chairs pulled close.

“So, Kolson stopped by.”

“What?” It was difficult not to shout.

“Don’t worry. He was dressed like a courier and we use them all the time. He wore a helmet with a visor so it would be difficult to see his face.”

“I’m not sure I like that idea at all.”

“I’m going to destroy that bug and then you’re going to meet with Kestrel in a café and ask him about it. Pay attention to his reaction. Tell him Lydia found it and set it out for you with a note and you dropped it and it broke. You called me to see what it was and I told you.”

“Okay, but what about Kolson being my bodyguard?” I ask.

“It may be risky, even as a bogus employee. Langston’s men are watching everyone too closely and if they see someone new, they’ll take pictures. It’s better to leave things as is.”

“Good point. I asked Tom Barrett to hack into Hart Entertainment’s computers.”

“You did what?”

I explain.

“Gabby. That’s putting him at risk. Call him down. This needs to be done from the outside. He could get killed.”

“But …”

“No buts.”

“Jack was with me.”

“Jack McCutcheon?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. Tell them both the more you thought about it, the more you decided it was a bad idea.” Case lifts his head and looks around. Then he puts his mouth next to my ear. “Gabby, this is serious shit. No one gets in this. Okay? Discuss this with no one. The only people you discuss any of this with are with me, Kolson, or Sam. Understand? The more people you involve, the more dangerous it becomes.”

“Okay. Shit, I guess it was a bad plan.”

“No. You want to help him. It’s understandable. But dealing with a Mobster who is known for contract killings is another story. It’s better to listen to Kolson. He’s trying to dig up evidence on Langston and some of his associates. If he can do that, Langston will go to prison. That makes much more sense. We have to be very patient.”

“Did Kolson say when he’d be back?”

“No. But he now has an untraceable cell phone, like yours. If you need him,
in an emergency
, Gabby, and I mean that, call him. Do not text him or use this thing for chitchat. You got that? You have to be dying or close to death to use it. Otherwise call me. Clear?”

“Yep.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

My ride is waiting for me as Case walks me to the car. It’s going to be a long, sleepless night as I mull all this information over. I wish there was some way I could help.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kolson

Case is right. Me serving as Gabriella’s bodyguard is too risky. My security team that I personally set up at HTS would blow my cover so fast, I wouldn’t last a minute. I can see Tom Barrett clapping his hands already. Sam and Ovaltine will be the trusted ones who will guard her, and I will only visit when they are working. That is the best solution we can work out.

When Case first saw me, he ushered me into his office and wanted to know if I was using. I know I look like hell these days, but I guess I hadn’t realized just how bad it had gotten.

My only addiction, I told him, is Gabriella. Days without her make me edgy as fuck. I’m worried something will happen to her and I impress this upon him. Luckily, since Case used to be in law enforcement, he understands the gravity of the situation with my father. Case also mentioned that he has a close friend in the FBI who shared some of Langston’s files with him. He’s been looking over those files of how Langston has been implicated in over a dozen murders in the past. Case’s connection may be helpful to me if I can uncover any evidence in my investigation of him.

We will now move to the next stage. With Case helping out, maybe my plans to gather more concrete evidence will materialize. I’m hoping to get to Kestrel. To get him to cave. But I can’t let him know I’m still around. That’s why I need Gabriella to meet with him, to try to get him to talk. The computer records that I have are dated, the information sparse. Case said they need something more current. I plan to create a list of contacts for him and then move from there. Case isn’t sure how that will help, but I am. Even if I have to go beyond the law, I will, though I didn’t mention this to Case.

He suggested I stay away from Gabby for the next few days. Langston’s men are watching her like a hawk and he doesn’t want to peak their interest, any more than it already is. He promised to let her know what was happening and told me to go home, and when it seemed safer, he would let me know.

Now I’m an even bigger mess than I was when I went to see him. As I sit here in my apartment, alone with my thoughts, my mind tumbles with ideas on how I can take down my father. I’m going to have to get inside his compound. But I don’t know how I can do that. My key is going to be Kestrel. But he can’t know I’m using him because his tethers to the dragon are too strong. He doesn’t have the strength to stand up to him. This is where I may have to rely on Gabby.

Restless, I leave Brooklyn and hop on the subway. I ride the trains all day long in search of answers. But I find none, except in my Kestrel connection. I wish I could trust him enough to use him. But I can’t. My father would break him in less than a second. As I wait for another train, I amble around, lost in my thoughts, when I notice a man who looks familiar. I’m shocked to see it’s Kade. He’s filthy and looks awful. And he smells. I’m sure he hasn’t bathed in weeks, maybe even months.

He hasn’t seen me so I walk up to him and say, “Hey.”

He turns and not a glimmer of recognition flashes across his features. His eyes are dead. Hopeless. It crushes me.

“Kade?”

“Yeah. Whadya want?” He roots through a garbage can.

“Are you hungry?”

“What’s it to ya?”

“Come with me. I’ll buy you some food.”

He focuses his foggy eyes on me. “Why?”

“Because you’re hungry.”

He pauses and shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good.”