Loyalty (38 page)

“Fina,” she heard Frank say when she opened the bathroom door and flicked off the light.

“Hi. Did I wake you?” she asked. He was sitting on the end of the bed in sweatpants and a Bruins T-shirt.

Frank shrugged. “Something did. You headed to the hospital?”

“The police, then the hospital.”

Frank nodded. “What’s going on?”

Fina sank down next to him. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “I . . . I’m . . .” She was silent.

“Wow. If you’re speechless, it must be pretty awful.”

“It is. Rand didn’t kill Melanie, but he’s done some terrible things.” Fina didn’t look at him. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, what are your options?”

“They all suck. That’s the problem. If I give the police information, my father will go crazy, but if I don’t, then someone else is going to get hurt—badly. And I actually like to cooperate with the cops when possible. I don’t obstruct them just for the fun of it.”

“So what if your father goes crazy?”

Fina gave him a pleading look. “Frank, come on. You know what. Family loyalty is everything to him, and he has a hand in every part of my life—work, my brothers, my niece and nephews.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t.”

Fina was growing irritated. “Fine, but that’s an issue for another day. I have to figure out what to do now.”

Frank thought for a moment. “You can’t control your father, but at the end of the day, you still have to live with yourself. You’re fierce when it comes to protecting people, whether they’re related to you or not.” He gently tapped her cast. “That’s what gets you into so much trouble. It’s also one of the wonderful things about you.”

“So you think I should tell the cops about Rand?”

“I think you should do whatever you think is right without worrying about damage control. Let the chips fall where they may. I know that’s anathema to you Ludlows, but you’re more than just a Ludlow. Sometimes you forget that.”

They sat silently, the only sound a pipe humming in the ceiling.

“Do you have a thumb drive I can borrow? And your computer?” Fina asked.

“In the den.”

Fina followed him upstairs, sat down in front of Frank’s computer, and logged on to her laptop. She downloaded some documents onto the thumb drive, which she dropped into her bag next to a manila folder.

“You want me to go with you?” Frank asked.

“No, thanks. Milloy will do the honors.”

Frank went back to bed, and she speed-dialed Milloy.

“Really?” Milloy answered. “It’s four
A.M.
”

“I know, but it’s important.”

“What is it?”

“Can you meet me at police headquarters?”

“Because . . .”

“Because I could use a little moral support.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”

On the steps of the station, Milloy’s reaction to her appearance confirmed her assessment.

“You look like someone ran over you,” he said, looking at her wide-eyed.

“I know. What can I say? I’ve had a busy twelve hours.”

“How about a doctor after this?”

“How about this, my dad’s office, a doctor, and then your place? I want to lie in bed and watch that show—you know the one, where they bring the baby home? The one where they realize they’re in deep shit.” Fina blinked and looked at Milloy. “Imagine that. I have a plan.”

“You really are unwell.”

Inside the station, Fina asked for Pitney and Menendez, and she and Milloy took a seat on a hard wooden bench to wait. The seating sent a clear message:
State your business and move along. Nothing to see here, folks.

Fina was dozing on Milloy’s shoulder when Cristian emerged from a locked area behind the front desk half an hour later and beckoned for them to follow him to a bank of elevators. If Fina had had the energy or the inclination, it might have been an awkward ride, but she didn’t have either, and Cristian and Milloy seemed to be taking each other at face value; a cop and a member of the public, nothing more.

Pitney was waiting for them in an interview room. She was wearing purple trousers and a short-sleeve top with a starburst pattern. Her gun and badge were attached to her hip, and large gold hoops peeked out of her hair. Fina couldn’t tell if her wan complexion was due to a lack of sleep or the unflattering glow of the fluorescent lights.

“How about you gentlemen leave us alone?” Pitney suggested.

Both Cristian and Milloy looked to Fina to gauge her comfort with the suggestion.

“That’s fine,” she said, and sat down across from Pitney.

“Do you want a soda?” Cristian asked before leaving.

“If you don’t mind.”

Cristian pulled the door closed, and the two women looked at each other.

“You look like I feel,” Pitney said.

“You must feel like shit then. I do.”

“You’re early. When’s your brother getting here?” Pitney asked.

“I told him to come in at nine
A.M.
”

Pitney raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not going to make a statement about the shooting right now, but obviously, it was self-defense.” She pointed at her neck.

“It appears that way,” Pitney said, nodding slowly. “He’s going to live, by the way.”

Fina shrugged. “Well, at least he’ll look like shit for a while.”

Pitney folded her arms across her ample chest. “So why are you here so early without counsel?”

Fina reached into her bag, pulled out the folder and the thumb drive, and placed them on the table. “I know you think that all I do is obstruct and withhold.” She slid the items toward Pitney.

“What’s this?” Pitney asked.

“It’s information that might interest you about Bev and Chester Duprey’s criminal operations.”

Pitney raised an eyebrow. “
Operations
would suggest more than just the escorts.”

“How about online porn, underage girls, money laundering?”

Pitney began to flip through the file.

“I think if you dig enough, you should be able to connect Mark Lamont to Bev. I don’t have any direct proof that he killed Melanie, but you can get him on something with this stuff. At the very least, you could nail him for coming after me.”

There was a knock at the door, and Cristian reached into the room and handed Fina a cold can of diet soda. He backed out and closed the door. Fina held the can against her chest with her cast and tried to open it with her good hand. After a moment’s struggle, Pitney looked up from the file and took hold of the can. She popped it open and gave it back to Fina.

“Why are you doing this? Giving me this stuff?” the lieutenant asked, her face screwed in concentration.

Fina took a long drink. “Mark Lamont and Bev Duprey should go to prison.”

“But I can’t necessarily keep Rand out of this,” Pitney said.

Fina looked down at the table. She looked up at Pitney. “I can live with that.”

“You can?”

“I’ve told you all along that despite my family’s history of circling the wagons, I wasn’t going to let my brother get away with murder.”

Pitney peered at her. “But you’re telling me he didn’t murder his wife. I’d love to nail him for it, but if he didn’t do it—”

“I don’t think he should get a free pass. I’ve said that all along.” Fina slumped in her seat. She was exhausted and feeling prickly. “Frankly, it’s going to piss me off if you can’t acknowledge that I’ve been true to my word.”

Pitney put her hands up. “I can concede that, I just don’t get it. I would have thought you’d be okay letting the prostitution slide.”

Fina took another drink. “I would have been.”

Pitney studied her for a moment. “So what aren’t you telling me? What
can’t
you let slide?”

Fina smiled. “I’m not telling you what I’m not telling you. Take the information and do with it what you will. It’s a big fucking mess, though,” Fina said, gesturing to the file and the thumb drive.

Fina stood and put her bag over her shoulder. “There’s one name I want you to keep out of all this,” Fina said. She stared at Pitney. The lieutenant waited. “Haley Ludlow, my niece. She’s a minor.” She cradled the soda between her cast and her chest and grasped the doorknob with her good hand. “Can you do that?”

Pitney twisted in her seat to look at her. “We always try to protect minors.”

“Good. That’s all I care about.”

“I thought family was the most important thing to you,” Pitney said.

“Exactly,” Fina said, and left the room.

Milloy was waiting for her in a chair near the elevators.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“Fine.” Fina sighed deeply. “An armed cop is nothing compared to my father.”

Milloy dropped Fina at Ludlow and Associates, and she took the elevator to the forty-eighth floor. At six
A.M.
, the office was stirring with the night shift paralegals and secretaries wrapping up their day and a fresh crew trickling in.

“Mr. Ludlow isn’t in yet,” the front desk receptionist informed her.

“I’ll wait,” Fina said as she started down the hallway, not waiting for permission.

Carl’s door was locked, but Fina had learned to open it ages ago and could achieve access with a bobby pin, let alone a lock pick. Once inside, she pressed a button to lower the automated blinds, grabbed a blanket from the closet, and curled up on her father’s couch. She didn’t sleep—the chatter and phones in the background kept her buoyed on a sea of consciousness—but it felt good to close her eyes and lie on the couch, demanding nothing of her body.

“Why’s it dark in here, Shari? I didn’t put the blinds down,” Carl said when he strode into the room an hour later.

“I don’t know, Mr. Ludlow.” She hurried in after him and punched the button for the blinds.

“It’s me, Dad,” Fina said, covering her eyes from the bright light that flooded the room.

“I thought my door was locked,” Carl said to Shari.

“It was,” she protested.

“It was,” Fina agreed.

Carl looked ready to rebuke Fina, but paused after he studied her appearance. “Get me some breakfast, would you?” he asked his secretary. He shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it to her.

“Ms. Ludlow?” Shari looked at Fina.

“Whatever he’s having, but the full-fat version, please.”

Carl walked around his desk and laid his briefcase on it. He pulled out a few file folders, shut it, and placed it on the floor. He took his phone out of his jacket pocket and put it on his blotter.

“I assume you have something to tell me?” he asked after settling into his chair.

Fina got up slowly and shuffled over to his desk. She lowered herself into the chair across from him.

“Are those new?” He pointed at the bruises encircling her neck.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Mark Lamont sicced a goon on me.” Carl cocked an eyebrow. “The guy tried to kill me,” Fina continued.

“Unsuccessfully.”

“Because I shot him.”

“Is he dead?”

“No, but not for lack of trying on my part.”

Carl squinted at her. “Why would Mark Lamont want to kill you?”

“Because he killed Melanie, or had her killed.”

“What?” Carl leaned forward and squeezed his hands together.

“It’s complicated, Dad, and I’m tired.”

“I need to know what’s going on.”

Fina let her head loll back and stared at the ceiling. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t like most of what you tell me.”

“And you’re not going to believe it,” Fina added.

Carl tapped out a staccato rhythm with his fingertips. “Try me.”

“The reason Melanie was so upset the day she died was that she found out Haley has been working for Bev Duprey.”

“Who?”

“I told you about her the other day when Pitney was here. The woman with the porn business. Ludlow and Associates won a suit against her son. Is this ringing any bells?”

“Get to the point, Fina.”

“Haley has been working for Bev Duprey.”

“What kind of work?”

“She’s been working as an escort.”

Carl guffawed. “That’s absurd.”

Fina ignored him and kept talking. “Bev Duprey runs an escort agency, and she was pissed at Rand because he sued her son, a doctor, and ruined his life—” Carl started to protest. “According to her,” Fina finished. “To get back at Rand, she positioned herself so he’d use her escort service, and she also lured Haley into working for her.”

“Haley would never do something like that, Fina. It’s totally fucked up. She’d have to be fucked up to do it.”

Fina let the words hang in the air between them and looked at her father.

A gentle tap on the door announced Shari’s return. She carried a tray into the office and placed it on Carl’s desk. She pulled the door closed behind her as she left.

The tray was made of a lustrous dark wood and had a delicate white cloth protecting its surface. It held two toasted bagels, two small ramekins of cream cheese, capers, red onion, diced hard-boiled egg, and thinly sliced smoked salmon. There were also coffee, a bowl of mixed fruit, a carafe of orange juice, two mugs, and two glasses. Carl and Fina glanced at the food, then back at each other.

“Melanie found out, confronted Rand, and eventually ended up at Bev Duprey’s office. They had a confrontation, and it would have ended there, but Melanie had the misfortune of bumping into Bev’s business partner, Mark Lamont.”

“So he killed her?” Carl said incredulously.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I imagine she threatened to expose his business connections, maybe tell you.”

“You have proof that Mark did this?”

“I can connect Mark to the attempts on my life, and I can connect him to Bev Duprey. And the eyewitness he fed me just turned up dead.”

Carl poured some coffee into a mug and took a sip. “I don’t believe this business about Haley, and even if I did, we need to keep her out of it.”

Fina scooted forward on her seat. “Do you want proof? Do you want me to find some of her johns? Get you pictures?”

“You’re talking about my granddaughter!” Carl yelled, and flinched as coffee slopped over the sides of his cup.

“And my niece! Aren’t you at all interested in figuring out what the hell’s been going on? Don’t you wonder what her parents were doing when they were supposed to be raising her?”

“Enough. We need to get control of this. And we need to keep Rand out of it.”

Fina exhaled loudly. “That isn’t going to be possible.” She inched back in her seat. Her father wasn’t violent, but she felt better out of arm’s reach. Trust Allah, but tie up your camel.

“Why not?” Carl sipped his coffee.

“Because the police have information about Bev Duprey’s businesses, and it’s bound to come out.”