‘But you pulled them out,’ Scarlett said softly.
Kate swallowed. ‘After the fact. We couldn’t undo what had happened to them.’
‘I know what you mean. All we can do is stop the crime, and catch the criminals. But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. Yet . . . it has to be enough or we crash and burn.’
Kate’s eyes opened, her emotions under control. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I don’t normally whine about it.’
‘Neither do I, but when I did, Deacon let me.’ Scarlett grinned a little. ‘I imagine he helped you too. Which is why you’re here?’
A small smile from the other woman. ‘He said you were smart.’
‘Did you catch the fucker on that first case?’
Kate shook her head, the small smile fading. ‘No. He wasn’t there when we went in. He got wind of our raid and then he was in the wind. No trace. But we got the women out and placed in shelters. All four were under eighteen, two under fifteen. One was an American girl from Iowa, a runaway. The rest entered the country with their families, who’d come in on legal visas, just like Tala’s family. Tricked into coming in, then separated. The parents and sons were sold for labor slaves, the daughters into the sex trade. These young girls were threatened that their families would be killed if they didn’t comply. So they complied,’ she finished grimly. ‘Over and over again.’
‘So you’ve made this your calling,’ Scarlett murmured.
‘Something like that, yes,’ Kate said with a nod. ‘I’m specializing in it, that’s for sure. I’m sorry Tala was killed, but it is a break we never expected. We need to use it to make sure she didn’t die in vain. What can you tell me about this reporter she was meeting?’
Scarlett told her everything she knew, except for the part about Marcus’s reaction to seeing Tala’s bullet-ravaged head. That was private, and she would fall on her sword to keep it that way.
‘So they met by coincidence,’ Kate mused.
Scarlett shook her head. ‘Not entirely. Marcus knew what to look for. He saw the signs that something was wrong.’
‘And he got involved. Not many do. I’d like to go with you when you talk with the mother and sister. I’d also like to speak to your reporter.’
‘I’ll arrange it,’ Scarlett said, then glanced at her phone when it buzzed, blinking at the caller ID. ‘Speaking of himself. It’s Marcus O’Bannion. Excuse me a moment.’ She got up from the table and walked to the window, hoping for better reception. ‘What’s up?’ she answered.
‘You need to come,’ Marcus said quietly, too quietly. ‘Now. Please.’
Scarlett’s pulse rocketed, but she managed to keep her voice calm. ‘Where?’
‘My apartment. I’m texting you the address. Bring that CSU guy of yours. Tanaka. He’s your best, right?’
‘Our very best.’
‘Then hurry. Please.’
‘Marcus, are you all right?’
But there was no answer. He’d already hung up. A second later her phone buzzed with his text. 7 Hills Twr. Penthouse. 20B.
Kate ran to her side, her own cell phone in her hand. ‘Who should I call?’
‘Call nine-one-one. Tell them to get to Seven Hills Tower in Hyde Park, penthouse unit B. Where’s Deacon?’ She dialed his cell, not waiting for Kate’s answer.
Deacon answered on the first ring. ‘I’ll be another few minutes,’ he said.
‘I just got a call from Marcus. Something’s gone down in his apartment. He asked for Vince and the CSU team.’
‘Shit,’ Deacon muttered. ‘You go. I’ll follow as soon as I can.’
‘I’m going with you,’ Kate told her when she’d hung up.
‘Then come. Now.’ Scarlett ran toward the entrance, calling Vince while she listened with her other ear to Kate calling 911.
Don’t be hurt, Marcus. Don’t you dare be hurt.
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 8.45 P.M.
Marcus pocketed his cell phone, knowing that Scarlett would worry and sorry that he’d been so abrupt, but he needed to put all his focus on keeping Phillip alive.
But his friend’s blood was pouring from too many places. Marcus couldn’t isolate all the wounds. Not fast enough. I’m not doing this fast enough. The panic started to climb up his throat, but he shoved it back down and got in Phillip’s face again. ‘Don’t you die on me, Phillip Cauldwell. Don’t you dare die on me.’
Phillip’s eyelids flickered, but didn’t lift. ‘Bossy,’ he whispered. ‘Always so bossy.’
‘Damn straight,’ Marcus snapped, relief making his body so rubbery that he had trouble keeping himself upright. ‘Because I am the damn boss and don’t you forget it. What happened here?’
‘Guy followed me into the lobby. Big guy. Black. Dressed in black, too. Couldn’t see his face, had on a ski mask.’ Phillip’s throat worked, tears leaking from his eyes. ‘He killed Edgar. I tried to stop him.’
‘No,’ Marcus soothed. ‘Edgar’s not dead. The paramedics should be helping him right now. Tell me about the man. He forced you up here?’
‘Yes. Didn’t have my knife.’
Phillip lived in a shitty neighborhood and always carried a knife for protection. Lisette had tried a thousand times to get her brother to move away from that hellhole. Marcus had even given him a raise, but Phillip refused to move.
‘Left it in your other pants, huh?’ Marcus asked, trying to keep his voice light.
‘Yep.’ A grimace of pain. ‘Had to go through a metal detector in Mr Arrogant’s building. Sorry.’
Marcus frowned for a moment, then remembered his team’s meeting that morning. It had been only twelve hours before, but it seemed like an eternity ago. ‘Mr Arrogant’ was the corporate vice-president his team had targeted for investigation, the man who’d beaten his wife and child. The man Children’s Services couldn’t touch because he’d bribed everyone to lie. Phillip had posed as a courier that morning so that he could harvest the names of employees at the abusive vice-president’s office, hoping to find someone who’d tell the truth about the man. The shirt Marcus had cut off him was part of his courier uniform.
‘Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re alive. How’d you get away?’
‘He shot me. Twice.’ An agonized grimace twisted his face. ‘Dug a slug out with his knife. Hurt . . . like a bitch.’
What the hell? Why would the shooter dig the slug out – and while Phillip was still alive? ‘I guess it did,’ Marcus said grimly.
‘And no, I don’t know why he dug the slug out. I can tell you’re wondering.’ A flicker of a smile, then another grimace of pain. ‘Then BB attacked him. Bit his leg. He kicked her off, but it gave me the second I needed.’ Phillip drew a breath that rattled frighteningly in his lungs. ‘I took his knife and stabbed him. Got him in the bicep. Left side.’ Another rattling breath. ‘Stuck him like a fucker.’
‘Good for you,’ Marcus said fiercely.
‘But then he shot me again. In the gut. Dropped me like a damn rock. He took a bath towel. Wrapped it around his arm. Didn’t even take the knife out.’
‘So he didn’t leave any blood,’ Marcus said grimly.
‘No. But BB bit him hard.’ A desperate smile bent his lips. ‘So get the fucker’s DNA from her teeth. Get him for me, boss.’
‘You have my word. Did you hear him speak? See anything? The color of his eyes, maybe?’ Marcus could hear his own desperation and fought to shove it back.
‘I heard him swear when I stabbed him. Deep voice. Eyes, brown. Lashes, black. Curly. Eyelids, dark, a little lighter than the ski mask.’ He drew a labored breath. ‘He wanted the gut bullet back too. Tried to dig it out.’ A grimace. ‘With a kitchen knife. He took it with him. The knife. Not the bullet.’ Phillip’s eyes slid shut. ‘God, this really hurts.’
‘I know. Hold on a little longer. The ambulance is coming. Stay with me, Phil.’
Another smile, much weaker. ‘You’re a bossy SOB. You know that, right?’
‘Trust me
, I know it,’ Marcus murmured, then looked up as footsteps thundered across his apartment floor. Medics and a cop appeared in the doorway, and Marcus stood up and stepped back. ‘Please help him.’
‘We’ll do our best,’ one of the medics said, gently pushing Marcus further out of the way. ‘You need to leave the room, sir. We need space to work.’
Marcus scooped BB up in his arms. She was dead weight, her limbs loose and floppy. ‘I’m Marcus O’Bannion,’ he said to the cop. ‘I’ve called Detective Bishop of the homicide division. No,’ he corrected himself. ‘She’s MCES, the CPD/FBI task force. She’s on her way. This is related to one of her cases. I’ll give my statement when she arrives.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 8.55 P.M.
Ken sat at the desk in his home office, staring at the tracking software on his phone screen, dreading what he knew he had to do. Demetrius had still not called in, but he wasn’t dead. His car was in motion, though driving erratically. After being inside O’Bannion’s apartment building for only ten minutes, he’d left and taken a circuitous route to nowhere, it seemed. He hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Had simply driven around in circles.
Which meant he’d missed. Again. If he’d hit O’Bannion, he’d be calling to brag, all cocky and smug. Even if he weren’t embezzling funds, Demetrius had to go.
Like . . . permanently.
The prospect might have made Ken annoyed a few months ago. Hell, maybe even a few weeks ago. But Demetrius had fucked up royally. And if he is stealing money from me, I’ll make him sorry he was ever born.
A cup of tea appeared in front of him and he looked up to see Alice’s concerned face. ‘You didn’t eat any dinner, Dad.’
He switched off his phone before she could ask what he was looking at. He tracked her phone, too. Sean’s as well, but he didn’t want either of them to know it. Ken trusted both of them, but he wasn’t stupid. They were his kids after all. Had his DNA. They’d sell him out if the price was high enough.
‘I’m not very hungry, honey. But this tea will hit the spot.’
‘You’re worrying about Demetrius,’ she said, sitting in the chair across from his desk. She’d already dressed for bed, wearing a modest robe and ridiculous Tweety Bird slippers. Above the neck of the robe he could see the bright blue of her University of Kentucky sleep shirt. His girl had graduated magna cum laude from Vanderbilt with a law degree from Kentucky. She looked like an innocent child, but he knew that beneath that sweet face was the sharp mind of his heir apparent. Sean was too academic and nerdy, and he’d been coddled by that mother of his. Alice, on the other hand, was a damn shark.
‘Of course I’m worried,’ he said. ‘I haven’t heard from him in hours.’
‘So he missed O’Bannion again. Dad, this is getting ridiculous. This is a liability situation. He needs to go.’
‘We’ve been friends since we were younger than you. It won’t be easy killing him.’
She shook her head. ‘Demetrius should have just killed O’Bannion nine months ago when you told him to. Then we wouldn’t be in this situation.’
Ken sighed. ‘Possibly, but to be fair, we’d still have the Anders situation, which wasn’t his fault. Stephanie and her boy toy Drake still would have taken Tala out to play.’
‘But if the girl hadn’t met O’Bannion in the park, she wouldn’t have met him in the alley and gotten herself shot,’ Alice countered.
Ken acknowledged her point. ‘Yeah, you’re right. That was Demetrius’s fault too.’ He wasn’t going to mention the embezzled funds. Not until he knew for sure.
‘Let me at him,’ Alice said. ‘I’ll take care of it for you. Then you won’t worry that you’ll hesitate at the last minute.’
‘I might take you up on that, but not yet.’
‘This isn’t just an inconvenience, Dad,’ she said harshly, surprising him with her intensity. ‘Demetrius has allowed O’Bannion to operate without any boundaries all day long. O’Bannion runs a newspaper. They investigate stuff. I shouldn’t need to draw a diagram here. He nearly brought us down nine months ago when he exposed Woody McCord’s kiddie porn collection. If he’d dug a little deeper, he would have realized that he hadn’t even touched the tip of the iceberg with McCord. I think he’s digging again. He’ll have us all in jail the moment his paper hits the stands, and frankly, I don’t think you’d like prison, Dad. I know I wouldn’t, and I’m not going to allow anyone to put me there. Not even you. So wake up and stop treating this like it’s containable.’ She leaned forward, her eyes flashing fire. ‘It is no longer containable.’
He stared at her, tempted for the first time in a long time to strike her. ‘Do not talk to me that way, Alice.’
She blew out an angry breath. ‘You won’t listen when I talk softly. God knows I’ve tried. Do you think it was a coincidence that O’Bannion met the girl in that alley this morning? He knows what we’re doing and he’s building his story. Once he connects Chip Anders to Woody McCord, we are all toast. He may have already. Let me have O’Bannion.’
‘O’Bannion or Demetrius?’ he asked coolly.
‘Both.’
He shook his head. ‘Even if I agreed with you, Alice, I can’t just let you blow Demetrius away. Not until we get the records of all the business deals he has in place. I need to know his suppliers and existing contracts.’
‘Like?’ she pressed.
‘Like the trackers, for example. We’re down three and I don’t know how many more we have in inventory nor where he gets them.’
‘I do.’
Ken blinked, momentarily distracted. ‘You do?’
She leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea, once again the picture of outer restraint. ‘Well I don’t personally, but DJ knows. He’ll tell me.’
‘What makes you think Demetrius’s son will tell you? He’s loyal to a fault.’
‘Not as loyal as you think. We talk.’ She smiled. ‘Sometimes we do more than talk.’
Ken’s mouth fell open. ‘You and DJ? Since when?’
‘Since he grew up, and how,’ she said bawdily, then sobered. ‘But seriously, Demetrius told you that Reuben was screwing around with the suppliers’ wives and daughters, but I’ll bet he didn’t tell you about the money he himself spends, and what he spends it on.’
Ken waited, then gave her an impatient look. ‘Don’t be melodramatic. Just tell me.’
Alice mimed sniffing a line of coke off the back of her hand.
‘Cocaine? Demetrius? No. He’s an athlete. He wouldn’t do that shit.’
She laughed derisively. ‘An athlete? Do you know how many athletes “do that shit”? And don’t get me started on the steroids. How do you think he keeps up with those muscles? He’s not twenty anymore.’
‘How do you know any of this?’
‘I found the steroids in his sock drawer.’ She shrugged. ‘I snooped around Demetrius’s house after I let DJ fuck my brains out.’
He put his hands up in surrender. ‘Don’t.’
‘I found Demetrius’s stash.’ She softened her words with a smile. ‘You guys aren’t getting any younger, you know. Demetrius is pushing fifty. And so are you.’
Ken winced, knowing she was right. ‘Ouch. Should I be worried?’
She sipped her tea demurely. ‘Daddy, you won’t get a chance to get worried. If you threaten the business with stupid shit, I’ll take you out myself.’
‘Oof,’ he grunted placidly, but took no real offense. He’d expect no less. ‘I’ve been thinking about selling out my share and retiring to my own island.’
‘Maybe you should,’ she said kindly. ‘You’ve worked every day of your life. Why not enjoy the next forty or fifty years surrounded by half-naked women serving you fruity drinks?’
He laughed at the mental picture, pretty much a dead match for his own daydreams. ‘I’m thinking about it. Can you and Sean buy me out?’
‘Yes,’ she said seriously. ‘Unless you plan to charge something exorbitant.’
r /> ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I have to sleep someti—’ The ringing of his cell phone cut him off. ‘It’s Demetrius.’
‘About time,’ Alice grumbled. ‘Put him on speaker, please.’
He pointed his finger at her. ‘Then you have to be as quiet as a church mouse.’ She mimed locking her lips while he answered the phone. ‘D. Where the hell have you been, man?’ he asked, even though he knew exactly where Demetrius had been.
‘Uh . . . it’s bad, Kenny. I’m hit. And I’m bleedin’. Maybe bleedin’ out.’
Alice’s eyes grew huge with consternation. ‘Idiot,’ she mouthed.
‘What happened to you?’ Ken asked.
‘Followed one of O’Bannion’s reporters, like we talked.’ Demetrius’s voice had grown slurred. ‘Shot him with the Ruger and was digging out the bullet—’
‘So that the wound would match the girl’s in the alley,’ Ken said impatiently. ‘And?’
‘O’Bannion’s damn dog bit me. Then the damn reporter stabbed me.’
Alice’s eyes rolled.
Ken kept his voice calm. He was seeing her point. ‘With what?’
‘My own goddamn knife,’ Demetrius muttered.
Ken rolled his own eyes. For God’s sake. ‘Did you bleed in O’Bannion’s apartment?’
A long pause. ‘I never said I was in O’Bannion’s apartment.’
Alice’s brows lifted. ‘Busted, Daddy,’ she mouthed.
Shit. She knows. She knew that he’d been tracking his leadership team.
Setting her teacup on his desk, Alice took her own phone from her pocket and began typing. She was intent on whatever she was doing, so Ken let her comment go for the moment, keeping his tone level. ‘His dog bit you, Demetrius. Unless you shot his employee in the goddamn dog park, his apartment seemed a reasonable assumption.’
Alice looked up from her phone. ‘Nice save,’ she mouthed, her expression dry.
He jabbed a warning finger at her and she shrugged, dropping her attention back to her phone. She must have found what she was looking for, because her expression abruptly became darkly furious, making him worried.
‘Oh.’ Demetrius gulped audibly. ‘Okay. That makes sense, I guess. No, I didn’t bleed anywhere. Not till I got to my car. I kept the knife in my arm till then. Didn’t want it to spurt if the little bastard hit an artery.’