Gwyn’s small, trembling hand came into view, sliding the report of Colin’s death over so that she could read it. ‘Shit,’ she whispered, then passed it to Jamie and Phil. Both men had paled. All of them knew what this could mean.
Exhaling heavily, Thorne looked up to meet Joseph’s concerned gaze. ‘How did you know to look for this?’
‘I’ve been keeping my eye on Cesar Tavilla since last summer,’ Joseph said. ‘Ever since you gave us evidence that helped us bring in Gage Jarvis.’
‘What?’ Jamie demanded. ‘Thorne?’
Fuck. He hadn’t told them for a reason – the fear on their faces right now.
Joseph registered surprise. ‘You didn’t tell them?’
‘No,’ Jamie bit out. ‘He did not. Please correct that oversight right now, Agent Carter.’
Joseph shot Thorne a curious look, then shrugged. ‘Last summer, an attorney named Gage Jarvis killed his ex-wife and was looking for his daughter because she’d witnessed him leaving the scene. She was eleven.’
‘Was?’ Phil asked sharply.
‘I’m sorry,’ Joseph said immediately. ‘She is eleven. She’s healthy and in therapy. Lots of therapy.’
‘Oh, thank God.’ Phil shuddered out a breath. ‘I thought you meant that she was dead.’
‘No.’ Joseph’s mouth curved up in a small smile. ‘But we owe some of that to Thorne. JD turned to him for information because Gage was a defense attorney. JD hoped that Thorne might know who Gage had been friendly with so that they could find his hiding place. Thorne did us one better. He had a photo of Gage having dinner with Tavilla, taken a few days before, so we knew our suspect was in town and for whom he was working. Except Tavilla washed his hands of Gage when we turned up the heat. The long and short of it is that Tavilla isn’t stupid. He knew we had inside info. At the time, Thorne told us that he’d had reason to believe Tavilla had targeted him in the past, and that he had a man inside. I worried then about what Tavilla would do if he found out. So I’ve kept watch. He’s gone under, by the way. He’s only been sighted a handful of times, usually at the same restaurant where he met with Gage Jarvis. He knows we’re watching. He somehow manages to lose his tail every time. We’re investigating that too.’
‘I see.’ Jamie’s voice was low and controlled. ‘That’s certainly enlightening. Both the help Thorne gave you last year and the man he had inside.’
Thorne could feel Jamie’s fury, and had to resist the urge to drop his eyes like a scolded child. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry.’
Jamie swallowed hard. ‘Well, too bad. I worried anyway. You should have told me.’
‘Jamie,’ Phil murmured. ‘Not here.’
On the other side of Thorne, Gwyn was uncharacteristically quiet. He didn’t know if he had the courage to look at her expression at the moment.
Instead he fixed his attention back on Joseph and Hyatt. ‘I would have thought news of Colin Tavilla’s death would have made headlines.’
Joseph’s brows rose. ‘Your informant didn’t mention it?’
‘No. And I’ve heard from him recently.’ And I’ll be reaching out to him again as soon as I leave this room. ‘How was this kept from the media?’
‘Good question,’ Hyatt said. ‘It seems that Colin was stabbed in a fight in the exercise yard. It was . . . unpleasant. The crowd around him dispersed, leaving him where he fell. The prison had him airlifted to the hospital. They spread the word among the inmates that Colin had made it through surgery and was recovering. In reality, he died in the exercise yard. We’re guessing the prison didn’t want any publicity about it because they’d have gang violence erupt inside. They must have figured that anyone who knew differently wasn’t going to speak up and incriminate themselves in the murder.’
‘Either that or Tavilla wanted it kept quiet,’ Thorne muttered.
‘Certainly a possibility,’ Joseph agreed. ‘I have to say I was surprised. I was supposed to be told if he died as well. But his death certificate was filed. When I couldn’t find out where he was “recovering”, I looked for the certificate. I’m thinking this changes things in your mind, Thorne, in terms of who could be responsible?’
Thorne nodded, his thoughts spiraling everywhere. ‘Yeah. I immediately thought Tavilla, but . . .’
‘But you’d heard from your man inside,’ Joseph supplied. ‘If you give us his name, we’ll check up on him to make sure he’s okay.’
Thorne almost smiled. ‘I don’t think so, Joseph.’
Joseph shrugged. ‘It was worth a try.’
Hyatt wasn’t as easily placated. ‘We need that name, Thorne. We need to know who we’re looking at for this. If it’s Tavilla, we want to take him down.’
Thorne simply shook his head. He wasn’t going to reveal Ramirez to the cops. They’d bring him in just to get at Tavilla. He owed Ramirez too much to do that to him.
Hyatt gave another frustrated sigh. ‘Can you at least explain why Cesar Tavilla hates you so much? Because I don’t buy the explanation I was given. That you refused to represent his kid in court is not a valid reason for his orchestrating this vendetta against you, if he’s even done so.’
Thorne rubbed his forehead. ‘Not entirely, no. I did refuse to take his son’s case. Twice. The first time was five years ago. Cesar was displeased, but another attorney was able to get him off. The second time was two years ago.’
‘Why did you refuse?’ Hyatt asked.
Thorne resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘Because I don’t want to be in the pocket of someone like Cesar Tavilla. Nor did I want to start a feud, but that’s what I did. Colin Tavilla went to prison for killing his partner in crime, one of the other young members of Cesar’s gang. The two had robbed a jewelry store. Made off with a few million dollars in diamonds. The store owner was distracted because he was receiving a delivery from another young man, Avery, who’d been hired by Colin. Avery is the son of a rival gang leader, which I didn’t know when I took the case. Avery didn’t know either, but—’
‘Wait,’ Hyatt interrupted. ‘This Avery kid didn’t know his father was a gang leader?’
‘He didn’t know his father even existed,’ Thorne said. ‘His mother raised him alone. His father knew about Avery and kept watch over him, but he’d never met him in person. Apparently someone else found out, because Colin Tavilla knew. He deliberately set the kid up to take the fall for the theft.’
‘To get to the rival gang leader,’ Hyatt said with a slow nod. ‘Okay, then what?’
‘Avery couldn’t prove he’d been tricked, and even when I found out who his father was, I stuck with him. He was being railroaded for a crime he didn’t commit because of who his father was.’
‘Why don’t I remember this?’ Hyatt asked suspiciously.
‘Because Avery’s case wasn’t a homicide, for one,’ Thorne answered. ‘But mostly because this happened in DC. It was handled by DCPD and tried in a DC court.’
Hyatt’s eyes narrowed. ‘Still not seeing why Tavilla hates you so much.’
‘Because it became a homicide,’ Joseph supplied. ‘Colin Tavilla’s buddy stole the entire haul instead of simply taking his half. Colin found out and killed him.’
Thorne grimaced. ‘And it wasn’t pretty. Colin gutted him, very similar to what was done to Patricia. Cesar approached me and asked me to represent his son in court. Not only did I say no, but Avery became a witness in Colin’s murder trial. His testimony was credible because I was able to get the grand theft charges against him dismissed. It was crucial to finding Colin guilty. Colin went away for twenty years. Which he apparently did not serve, because he was killed.’
Hyatt was frowning. ‘So why does Tavilla hate you and not this Avery kid?’
‘Because I sat in court next to Avery. He’d been afraid to testify. He was only sixteen at the time. But he’s a good kid. He did the right thing.
And when he was interviewed afterward, he credited me with giving him the courage to speak up.’
‘Ah.’ Hyatt nodded now. ‘That makes more sense. What happened to Avery?’
‘He’s gone off to university. Changed his name. I’m sure Tavilla knows where he is, but if Avery’s harmed, his father will blame Tavilla and it’ll cause a gang war.’
‘Tavilla’s not strong enough to survive that,’ Joseph added. ‘Not right now.’
‘He’s made attempts on your life before?’ Hyatt asked.
Thorne shrugged, conscious that Phil, Jamie and Gwyn were all holding their breath, waiting for an answer. ‘A few. None of them successful, obviously. But it was enough for me to seek a contact inside. I’ve kept my eye on Cesar ever since Colin was incarcerated.’ He met Joseph’s gaze, then Hyatt’s. ‘Am I free to go?’
‘Of course,’ Joseph said. ‘You are not under arrest.’
An exasperated sound came from the other side of the room, where Detective Brickman still leaned against the wall. ‘You’re just letting him go? Again?’
‘Yes,’ Joseph fired back. ‘We are.’
Hyatt gave the younger detective a dangerous look. ‘In my office, Brickman, as soon as we’re done here.’ To Thorne he said, ‘Yes, we are letting you go, but it’s against my better judgment. Not because I think you’re guilty, but because I know you’re stupid. Do not try to do any further investigating on your own.’ He turned to Stevie with a glare. ‘That includes you too.’
‘I’m going home,’ Stevie promised. ‘I’ve got a baby to nurse, a hip to ice, and a christening to plan.’
Thorne chanced a glance at Gwyn. She sat eerily still, her hands folded in her lap. Shit, he thought. She’s going to blow her stack when we leave here.
‘We’re going home too,’ he said. ‘Should I assume surveillance will continue?’
‘Of course,’ Joseph said mildly. ‘You’ve got my cell phone number. If you change your mind and decide to give us your confidential informant’s name, I’m happy to help.’
Like that’s ever going to happen. Thorne stood and helped Gwyn to her feet, and they all filed out, Jamie still shooting him angry looks. Phil looked wearily resigned.
I should have told them. But he really hadn’t wanted to worry them. And I’m thirty-six years old, for fuck’s sake. Old enough to manage his own life and the consequences that came from his personal choices. But he’d hurt them and he hadn’t meant to. He sighed quietly. Just another fuck-up that he needed to fix.
Clay and Stevie followed them, Stevie limping and swatting Clay’s hand away when he tried to help steady her. Lucy and JD brought up the rear. Nobody spoke until they reached the elevator.
‘Everyone’s coming to our house,’ Clay murmured in Thorne’s ear. ‘We have gates to keep out Hyatt’s men. Nobody will be able to listen to us there.’
Thorne nodded once. He considered asking Clay if he was sure, if he was really okay with the shitshow Thorne had already brought down on their heads. But he respected Clay Maynard, so he took the man at his word. ‘All right. Thank you.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 3.35 P.M.
Gwyn remained silent as they walked to Jamie’s minivan, conscious of the way Thorne loomed over her. Her shield. Again.
She didn’t argue with him, largely because she’d decided that whoever was behind this didn’t want Thorne dead. They wanted him hurt.
And if it was Cesar Tavilla pulling the strings? She swallowed hard and willed her nerves to settle. But her nerves were not cooperating. Not in the least. She felt ready to leap out of her own skin.
Instead she turned her attention to Phil and Jamie, who’d also gathered around her protectively. Thorne was at her back, while the two older men flanked either side.
‘I didn’t know either, so don’t feel bad,’ she murmured as they got to the minivan.
Jamie looked up at her sharply. ‘You mean about Tavilla?’
She nodded. She’d known Thorne had given Joseph and JD information about Jarvis, the rogue attorney who’d killed his wife, but she hadn’t known that the information had involved Tavilla. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep if she had. ‘I was at Lucy and JD’s house with him the night he helped the cops with Jarvis, but I’d gone upstairs to help Lucy bathe her son. By the time we’d finished, the conversation downstairs was over. I assumed at the time that Thorne would tell me everything I needed to know and that whatever he kept to himself was because of client confidentiality.’
‘You didn’t need to know about all that,’ Thorne insisted, sounding aggrieved. ‘I was trying to keep you from worrying. And I’m right here behind you, so stop talking about me like I’m not here.’
‘I know exactly where you are,’ she said evenly, because she was so angry. Angry that he’d kept this from them. Angry that he’d taken so many risks with his life. Angry that he’d continue to do so, because she knew he’d try to find his man inside Tavilla’s organization, just to make sure the guy was okay.
Because that was Thorne. He was loyal and he didn’t leave people behind.
Which is why you . . . care for him. She’d come so close to the L word. The thing was, she did love Thorne. The question was – in what way, exactly? She knew that she wasn’t in the proper frame of mind to figure that out at the moment.
They got in the van, Jamie behind the wheel, Phil shotgun, and Thorne and Gwyn in the backseat, just as they’d ridden around all day.
There was absolute silence until Jamie turned the key in the ignition. He set the A/C and sighed. ‘You’re going after him, aren’t you?’
Thorne was stone-faced. ‘Who exactly?’
‘Your source inside Tavilla’s organization,’ Jamie answered impatiently. ‘And probably Tavilla himself. Don’t play games, Thorne. It pisses me off.’
Thorne said nothing, which was answer enough.
‘I think we need to regroup,’ Phil said, his voice shaky. ‘Let’s take Clay up on his offer of hospitality for the time being. There’s safety in numbers.’
Jamie put the van in gear. ‘Fine. I’ll need directions. I’ve never been there.’
‘It’s in Hunt Valley,’ Thorne said. ‘Give me your phone. I’ll set your GPS.’ He did so, before firing off a text – probably to his contact inside Tavilla’s organization, Gwyn thought. Then he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
He looked so tired. And alone.
Alone was the last thing she wanted him to feel. She reached for his hand and held it, twining their fingers. ‘You don’t have to bear this yourself, Thorne. We said we have your back, and we do. We’re pissed off at you, but we’re not going away.’
He shuddered out a breath, but said nothing, so she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers as he’d done hers earlier. She watched his nostrils flare, but that was the only indication he’d been affected at all.
Twelve
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 4.35 P.M.
Clay opened his front door before Thorne could even knock. ‘Welcome.’ He gestured them in with a wide sweep of his hand. ‘We’re all here, just waiting for you guys.’
‘Sorry we took so long,’ Jamie said, wheeling himself up the ramp that led into the house. ‘We went by our house first to pick up Gwyn’s dog. Now that we’re finally here, thank you for the invite. And the ramp. That doesn’t happen very often.’
Clay closed the door, locked it, and reset an alarm panel. ‘Stevie and I put in ramps. Steps are hard for her.’ He pointed to a frosted glass door through which an elevator was barely visible. ‘If you need to go upstairs or down for any reason, feel free to use the lift. All the rooms upstairs are accessible, wide doorways and all.’
Jamie smiled his thanks. ‘Good to know.’
Clay took a moment to peer up at a monitor on one of the walls. It was
the feed from six different security cameras. He pushed a button and the screen flashed, six new feeds appearing. One of them was from the front gate, where an unmarked car sat parked. ‘Please tell me that your tail’s not that prick Brickman.’
Thorne shook his head. ‘It’s Agent Ingram. He works for Joseph’s joint task force.’
‘I know Ingram,’ Clay said. ‘He’s a good man.’
Thorne had heard the same. ‘Joseph handpicked him, apparently. I hope Brickman’s getting himself a new one torn by Hyatt right now. Guy really is a prick.’
‘Brickman’s the one who cuffed you to the hospital bed,’ Gwyn said, resentment clear. ‘Fucking asshole.’
Thorne found himself chuckling. ‘He should have been more afraid of you.’
Gwyn craned her head back to glare at him. ‘You should be more afraid of me too.’
Thorne abruptly sobered. ‘Oh, I am. Trust me.’
Clay’s lips twitched. ‘Then you are a wise man, Thorne. Come. We have food. Have you eaten?’
Thorne’s stomach had been rumbling for the past hour. ‘No. Thank you again.’
Clay aimed an irritated look his way. ‘Shut up, Thorne. Stop thanking us. Just get your ass in there, get some food, and find a chair.’
‘There’ was Clay’s living room, filled to capacity. Everyone who’d been in Gwyn’s condo the night before, plus a few others – old and young and super-young. The group was having a late lunch, a buffet laid out on a table in the dining room, visible through another wide doorway.
‘Uncle Torn!’ The squeal was followed by a shock of dark hair and chubby little legs running across the room, a small body flinging itself into Thorne’s arms. Lucy’s son, Jeremiah. His godson. He lifted the boy off the floor and swung him around, and was rewarded with another squeal, this one so joyful that his heart squeezed. He wrapped Jeremiah in a bear hug before kissing the top of his head.