Stone Walls (26 page)

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Authors: A.M. Madden

BOOK: Stone Walls
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He contemplates my second attempt, and says, “Right,” nodding in agreement. “It has nothing to do with you, or me, or how we feel about each other. If I could tell you, I would. There may be a time when I can. For now, I need you to understand why I can’t. Just know that I’ve got your back, and I love you.”

I take his hand in mine. “I know. I love you, too.”

He kisses me and adds, “I have to go. Can I come back later?”

“Of course.” Remorse causes me to feel guilty. He misinterpreted my response. “Ben, I’m not angry with you. I’m just frustrated with the situation.”

He skims his hand over my cheek. “Okay.”

After he holsters his gun, grabs his badge and phone, he kisses me one last time before leaving my apartment. As he’s half out the door, I call, “Ben, please be careful.”

He turns back with a smile. “I will, babe.”

Once my door slams shut, a chill runs through me. It’s more like a tremor. As they do whenever he goes to work, erratic thoughts and irrational fears infiltrate my mind. Since we started dating, I’ve worried about him and what he does as a profession. I’m quite aware that I’ll always be a hopeless victim who is unable to run or hide from the fear that comes from dating a cop. It’s going to be a fear that will forever plague me if Ben and I have a life together. And as I sit here, I know damn well I’ll have to live with that fear because I’ve chosen to be with him. Every time he leaves the house, I’ll be plagued by these thoughts.

My only line of defense is to pray.

After we had left the bar, Rob and Andrea decided to hit a movie. I’ve texted him a dozen times, but his phone must be on silent. I also left him a voicemail detailing what happened with Ella and McGill’s call. He’ll see my texts eventually, but I can’t wait for that to happen. I took it upon myself to call Farley. He answered immediately and agreed to meet me downtown. My last text to Rob was to meet me down there.

McGill’s voicemail runs on a loop in my head.

Stone…McGill. Call me, immediately.

As I listened to his voice, the blood in my veins turned to ice. I was right. Smyth killed Virginia Parker. He had his hands on my girl. He was there to kill her as well.

McGill detailed new evidence that surfaced, a fingerprint found on a discarded cellphone in the woods that borders Ella’s old house. As he spoke, I was desperately trying to figure out how I was going to continue my job responsibilities without crossing a line that no police officer should ever consciously cross. 

McGill said he would no longer be contacting me. He explained that Farley has taken over the case, and all further inquiries must be directed to him. I confided in McGill when Farley forbade me to continue investigating. McGill was sympathetic to my situation and promised he would let me know if anything profound turned up. But the turn this case has taken, forces him to step away. I thanked him for his help and said I understood his position.

I’m left with no other choice but to confront Farley. I’ll catch a shitload of crap for this, but he has a lot of explaining to do. Ella flashes through my mind. Timing couldn’t be any worse. Leaving her alone with her thoughts worries me. Her mind is probably racing with questions, questions that I can’t answer. I can only hope she meant what she said, and it’s the frustration that’s upsetting her and not my actions.

I arrive before Farley. Pacing does little to settle my rage. Sitting doesn’t help. I feel like a caged animal, and my prey is just outside that door. It’s not, of course. Smyth sits in a cell across town, but he may as well be right here. He’s too close, too near, and the thoughts of ending his fucking life fester with each passing moment.

Rob texts me back that he’s on his way. His next text is a simple command.

Stay calm
.

Easier said than done. He knows me too well. He also knows his futile command will do nothing to help me calm down.

Farley finally enters the room dressed casually, his expression void of all emotion.  He finds me sitting and takes the seat across from me.

“Rob is on his way. He has every right to be here also,” I announce defensively.

“Stone,” he begins, and I cut him off immediately.

“Don’t even think about saying I should have followed orders.”

He nods and says, “I was going to say I had every intention of filling you in, but it’s much more complicated than Smyth killing Virginia Parker. Before I released details, we needed to be sure our facts were correct. This is an ongoing investigation that is not solved by any means. What I’m about to tell you cannot be shared. I’m fully aware we are talking about your girlfriend, but her life is on the line.”

I sit glaring at him, refusing to help him out. He pulls a folder out of his bag and slides it closer to me.

Across the folder in black bold print reads,
CONFIDENTIAL
. The side tab of the folder reads,
Volante, Regina
. With a shaky hand, I flip open the folder to reveal a picture of a much younger Virginia Parker.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Regina Volante, aka Virginia Parker, is the wife of Angelo Volante.” He offers nothing else, waiting for me to process what he just said. I feel like I swallowed shards of ice, and they sit heavily in the pit of my stomach.

Page after page details the life of Regina Volante, Angelo Volante, and their daughter Gabriella Volante. A picture of a young girl, age two, stares back at me in the most haunting way. Those eyes. Those are my Ella’s eyes.

In an instant, my world comes crashing down.

When I look up at Farley, he watches me with unmasked sympathy and concern. “Ella is Volante’s daughter?” He nods solemnly. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen emotion on his face. “Start from the beginning,” I say in a shaky voice that sounds nothing like my own.

Rob enters the room just as Farley is about to ruin my life.

I sit silently, unable to swallow past the lump that’s firmly lodged in my throat. It takes only a few minutes for Farley to bring Rob up to speed. Once he does, he jumps right into the details.

“Regina and Angelo Volante were only married a few years when Ella,” he stops and corrects, “Gabriella was born. Volante’s relationship with Politto was very strong at the time, very loyal until Politto Sr. got greedy. Volante and Razzo were just as close, but no one knew it. All involved witnessed a normal mob boss/capo relationship. They hid the true level of their friendship from all their men, including Politto. Volante felt it was important to maintain a secret alliance, which is how his father conducted business.

“Razzo is the one who discovered Politto’s growing resentment toward Volante. He did warn Volante, and measures were taken to ensure Regina and Gabriella’s safety. Volante was a smart enough mob boss to know how situations like that went down. Someone would end up dead, someone else left to run the show. He tried to prepare for either circumstance. He recorded a confession, detailed crimes committed by him, Politto, and some other capos whose loyalties could be doubted. He made two copies, instructing Regina to hand one over to the FBI if anything were ever to happen to him and to save the other as an insurance policy.

“Razzo grew anxious, not comfortable with the way Volante was handling the situation. He wanted to stop Politto before it was too late. Neither Volante nor Razzo truly understood Politto’s animosity or his impatience to get Volante out of the picture. Politto’s one mistake was to kill Volante, leaving Regina and Gabriella unharmed.”

The murderous look I throw at Farley stops him in his tracks. He’s been telling this in a very technical, mechanical manner. He’s forgetting the humanity in this case, the person involved, and who she is to me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he amends. “My point is Politto was a family man. He would never take a woman or a child’s life. Volante knew this and depended on it. Volante made his wife the informant who would later put Politto Sr. behind bars for good.”

My muscles begin to ache from my stiff posture and from sitting completely immobile. Rob rubs a hand down his face, trying to absorb the enormity of this fucking nightmare. Farley reaches for the folder and flips toward the back.

“Days after Volante’s murder, while everyone mourned and Politto acted the role of a man who tragically lost his brother, the FBI was recovering hidden video surveillance of the murder from Volante’s house, as well as taking Regina and her daughter into custody. Volante’s house was firebombed. News broke that the remains found were of Regina and Gabriella Volante. Politto was given a false sense of security leading him to believe all evidence against him was destroyed, and the focus would now be on the rival family’s involvement in Volante’s murder. Regina was immediately placed in the WITSEC program with Gabriella. New names, new identities, new social security numbers, nothing was left unchanged. They were moved to the Northeast and set up with their new lives. Regina was in her early twenties at the time, and Gabriella was two. Regina’s new identity made her younger by a few years. She became an eighteen-year-old who ran away from home due to an unwanted pregnancy. She moved around, kept true to the program. With time, she stopped checking in. She neglected to disclose new locations. The US Marshal Service lost them.”

“They lost them?”

“It happens more than you know. The program is only as successful as the commitment from those they try to protect. If they don’t want to be protected, there isn’t anything they can do. Most get complacent, comfortable when years pass and their old lives are nothing but a distant memory.”

It all makes sense now. The way Ella was raised, the lack of focus, lack of history. It was necessary. She’s been living this double life, and she has no clue.

“How did Smyth find them?”

“Razzo.”

My look of shock forces him to explain. “Not in the way you think. Razzo and Regina were very close. She was like a sister, Gabriella, a niece. He promised Volante he would always keep an eye on them. Regina would send him her new locations in code, but otherwise they never communicated. For twenty years, no one knew who Virginia Parker was until a few weeks before her death.

At my stunned silence, he continues. “Virginia called Razzo. She was trying to persuade Ella to move to New York. She wanted her daughter to live and to follow her dreams. For the first time, she reached out to Razzo through a phone call. She wanted to let him know that she decided to make the move with her daughter. Neither Virginia nor Razzo knew that Politto Jr. was patiently waiting for such a screw-up. Once Politto Sr. was murdered, he suspected someone from Volante’s camp. He’s more cynical than his father was, more calculating, less trusting. He still is.”

“Why would Regina Volante take such a huge risk and put her daughter’s life in jeopardy?” Suddenly, Virginia is my new focus, a person to blame.

“As I said before, a false sense of security, becoming comfortable is the worst thing to happen to someone who’s in the program, but it often happens.”

My head is spinning. This keeps getting worse and worse.

Farley continues by saying, “When Razzo found out that Regina was murdered, he tracked Ella down and found the agency she worked for. He made that agency an offer to represent him and his new business Social Workouts. He did that to keep Ella close. He immediately assumed the role of protector, keeping an eye on her from afar.

“Politto is unaware that Razzo knows Ella is here. Razzo has been very careful in avoiding her. Smyth failed his assignment the night he killed Regina. He was supposed to kill Ella, as well. She survived and he never found out what their aliases were. Politto told Smyth to back off and forget her.”

“Where does that leave Ella? Politto knows she survived. How can he not know that she’s here?”

“He’s unaware.”

“How is that possible? Smyth saw her. Smyth knows she’s here.”

“Politto doesn’t know.”

“You’re
assuming
he doesn’t know!”

“If he knew, he’d have her by now.”

A fucking violent chill runs down my spine. “That’s not good enough for me!”

“Calm down, Stone!”

“Fuck you!” I stand abruptly, knocking my chair over behind me.

It’s late, and the building is fairly empty. I’m sure my voice is resonating down the halls, but I don’t give a fuck. “I sat here earlier wondering how I was going to get past wanting to kill Smyth with my own two hands. The kicker? I also felt a touch of peace knowing he was stuck in a cell and nowhere around Ella. Now you’re telling me he’s not who I even need to worry about? Politto could very well get to her?”

Farley takes a deep breath and removes another file. “Razzo is working with us.”

If I felt sick earlier, it pales compared to the nausea that engulfs me now. “We have protection detail on her,” he says calmly. As I stand there, gripping the edge of the table, breathing in and out like a madman, he adds, “Two agents, twenty-four seven.”

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