Chapter 9
“I got confirmation that they poured the cement for the addition foundation,” Scott told his cousin as they sat in a local bar having a quick beer before calling it a night.
“Yeah, I stopped by at lunch time and checked.”
“You don’t trust that I set it up right?” He smirked, knowing full well why his cousin liked to stop at home during the day.
Jack’s face flushed. “I promised Callie I’d drop off a gallon of milk so Jonathan would have some for his lunch.”
“What did she think of the drawings for the addition?”
“She loved them. Attaching the garage is a favorite of hers, especially for hauling in groceries in the cold weather. She figures the little office you threw in on the first floor will be great to keep all her accounting stuff in so the kids don’t get at it.”
“Kids. It’s still weird to hear you talk about kids.”
“Jonathan will be three in a few months.” Jack’s jaw clenched.
“I know, but for so long you could never mention him in public. It’s nice to hear it now.”
“You don’t have to remind me. There are times I want to shout it from the rooftops.”
“And everything’s good with Callie and the baby?”
“The doctor says all is great. The little aches and pains she has are perfectly normal. She thinks I’m being overprotective. Maybe I am.”
“Listen to the doctor. Now that you aren’t on the run, you can actually go to her checkups, right, to assure yourself?”
“Yeah, I loved seeing the ultrasound. Knowing my child is growing inside her. I never got a chance to do anything like that when she carried Jonathan. I hate to admit I still look over my shoulder at times, thinking Cabrini—or one of his men—is going to jump out at me. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to get over that paranoia.”
Patting Jack’s shoulder, he said, “It hasn’t been that long since Cabrini was killed. Give yourself some time, and keep reminding yourself he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“I remind myself every day.”
“How’s it going with the job? Are you happy?”
“We had this conversation not too long ago, Scott. I told you I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’m happy working for the company in any capacity you want.”
“And you’re doing great. I guess I was wondering if you missed the Bureau.”
Jack glanced around the bar room. “You know, I thought I loved that lifestyle and would always want it, but after spending three years on the run, I think I’ve had my fill of cloak-and-dagger for a lifetime. To wake up next to Callie every morning, and be with her every night, it’s the most thrilling thing I’ve ever done.”
“You don’t miss the challenges of the FBI?”
Jack laughed. “Oh, believe me, trying to deal with a pregnant, hormonal woman and a two-year-old holds its own challenges. Ones far more complex than anything I came up against in the Bureau. But I wouldn’t give it up for anything. Callie and Jonathan are my world.”
Picking up his mug, Scott took another swig of the cold brew. Envy pricked along his spine. What would it be like to wake up to the same woman day after day? A woman who was everything to you. Not that he’d ever had anyone like that in his life. Memories of Heather in the bed next to him after the wedding flitted through his mind. Shit, he’d wanted to wake her up and finish what they’d started. For some strange reason, he’d been satisfied with simply watching her sleep.
He wouldn’t lie and say he hadn’t been turned on by her gorgeous naked body or that he hadn’t stared at her quite extensively before he turned off the light. The next morning, his hands had itched to touch the perfection, see if she would respond to him like she had the night before. But he’d also spent time inhaling her unique scent and reveling in the warmth of her body pressed to his. His completely clothed body, because he wasn’t stupid enough to press naked skin to naked skin.
Even in her sleep, she exuded a confidence and determination he found as beautiful as her outward appearance. As much as he’d wanted to touch her again, he hadn’t. He respected the hell out of her. Disrespecting her that way would have been wrong. A cold shower and the thick covers over her was what he’d managed.
As if his cousin could read his thoughts, he asked, “How’s the new project with Heather coming along? Any more problems since the wall collapsed?”
And Heather had patched him up.
“No, Jian’s men seem to have scared off anyone intent on more damage.”
“I still can’t believe the relationship you have with a gang leader.” Jack shook his head. “But more power to you if you can use their strength for your own good. Legally, of course.”
“All very legal. Kind of. I’m not actually paying them anything, but Jian knows I’ve given many of his guys jobs. It’s kind of payback for that.”
“And your injuries?”
“Did Heather squeal to Callie?”
“She may have mentioned something, but you’ve still got a few cuts on your face and knuckles.”
“I’m fine. Mostly cuts and bruises. Had worse in the sandbox. You know that.”
“And the renovations are starting up again?”
“Yeah, though I’m one man short. After the accident one of the crew didn’t show up again. He wasn’t injured, so I wondered if he’d gotten spooked by the accident. Called him a few times then went to visit. The address he gave was an empty lot and all his other info was fake, right down to his former employer. I should have checked that out better, but I was strapped for more workers for this project and might have skipped a few steps.”
“You think he had something to do with the accident?”
“I don’t think it was an accident, Jack.”
His cousin’s eyes narrowed. “Why not? The building’s kind of dilapidated.”
“I’d checked that wall a few days earlier, and it had some problems that needed fixing but it was stable enough. Now that I think of it, the guy who skipped out had been working in that area earlier in the day and was there before it crumbled. Right as I walked up to it.”
“You think he could have been targeting you?”
Shrugging, Scott said, “Me or the project in general. You know how many fuck-ups we’ve had since we started. I wish I knew what the hell was going on.”
“I’ve still got friends in the Bureau. I could see if anyone would look into it.”
“Appreciated, but I don’t think I want to go there quite yet. No one has been seriously hurt and each incident could be simple mistakes.”
A tone sounded and Jack fished his phone from his pocket. Sliding his finger over the screen he read the message then slid off the stool. “Gotta go. Callie needs me to pick up some milk before I head home. Supper’s almost ready.”
“I thought you dropped off some milk at lunch time.”
The grin on his cousin’s face was huge. “Well, you can never have enough…milk.” He threw a few bills on the counter. “I’ll catch you later.”
Waving to Jack, he turned back to the counter and finished his beer. He didn’t have a family waiting for him. Once this mill project was done he should try and take some time for his own social life. It had been a while since he’d dated anyone. Except the pretend dating he’d done with Heather.
Would she want to date him? She’d commented on something like that a little while ago. Once they weren’t partners any more. Although if they ended up renting the bottom floors for retail, they’d be in business together for a while.
Throwing more bills on the bar, he moved to slip in between the crowd. A tug on his arm had him turning. A young woman stumbled and fell right into him. He grabbed her wrist and kept her from landing on the floor.
“You all right, miss?”
She reared up, her eyes flashing fire. “Leave me alone. Don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry, I was trying to keep you from falling.” What the hell was her problem?
Her large bracelet jangled under his hand and she gripped his arm to push away, leaving some long scratches from her painted nails.
“I said don’t touch me!” Her shrill voice caught the attention of many of the crowd in the bar, so he dropped his hands and backed away a few steps. She shook her head and the aqua strands in her hair shimmered. Interesting color.
“Is everything all right, miss?” The fear in her eyes had him searching the room for any potential trouble. Aside from people staring at them, mostly at him, thinking he’d done something to her, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Turning away with a sharp cry she rushed from the building. People stared at him and he stared right back. Hadn’t anyone seen what had actually happened?
Looking down at his arm, he put his hand over the scratches. One more war wound to add to his collection. Too bad he didn’t have Heather nearby to mend his injury. As he walked to his truck he wondered what she’d do if he called and asked her to patch him up?
* * * *
“The new front windows look great, Scott.”
Scott stared through the new triple panes on the first floor then turned to Heather. “They do, but I’m worried about vandalism. It’s the Fourth of July long weekend and who knows what could happen.”
“I thought you had people watching the place.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her slim-fitting jeans and rocked back on her stylish boots. Some might call them work boots, but the fancy plaid fabric around the high cuff was hardly what his men wore. Still better than a tight skirt and heels. Although he certainly liked those too.
“I do, but they aren’t here every second or invincible. They need to stay in the background to avoid suspicion. I’ll probably pop by a few times over the weekend.”
“Aren’t you going to Jack and Callie’s for the barbecue on Sunday?”
“I am. But I’ll still have time to drop by here. I assume you’ll be there too.”
“Yes, Callie asked me to help her get the house cleaned up and cook some of the food. She can’t bend over as easily as she used to.”
Jack probably wouldn’t let her do much heavy lifting anyway.
“I’ve instructed the men to board up the windows. We’ll keep them that way until we’ve got the whole place ready. That way no one sees all the tools and materials we have inside and isn’t tempted to steal anything.”
“I’ll defer to your judgment on this one. I don’t have any experience in that capacity.”
A snippy comment rose on his tongue.
“Scott Holland?”
A middle-aged man and younger woman in dressy casual clothes walked through the door from outside.
“Can I help you? This is a construction site. You shouldn’t be here.”
Moving closer with Heather at his side, he watched as they took out badges.
“I’m Detective Tabitha Thomas. This is Detective Walter Harmon. We’re with the Waterbury Police Department.”
Holding out his hand, he said, “I’m Scott Holland, and this is my partner, Heather Silva.”
Detective Harmon shook his hand though Thomas stood stiffly with her hands at her side, an envelope in one of them.
Heather looked at him sharply. “Did you file a report on the accident with the police?”
“Yeah, not that I expect anything to come of it, but I wanted it documented since so many things have gone wrong the past few months. But I filed it here in town, not in Waterbury.”
“We’re not here about an accident report, Mr. Holland. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“About what?”
“Where were you Wednesday night of this week?” Harmon scribbled on a notepad in front of him.
Wednesday. “I went to a bar in downtown Waterbury after work and had a beer with my cousin. Then I went home.”
“The name of the bar?”
“Jake’s.”
“Can anyone verify your whereabouts after you left the bar?”
Scott shook his head. “I was home by myself.”
“Do you know a woman named Carla Findley?”
“No. What does she have to do with me?”
“We’d like your permission to search your vehicle.”
“My vehicle? What are you looking for?”
Detective Thomas ran one hand through her dark cropped hair and lifted the envelope. “We do have a search warrant but we were hoping you’d cooperate without it.”
“It’s parked out back. What is this about?”
“Do you have the keys?” Thomas began to walk to the door so Scott followed, digging the keys from his pocket.
Heather and Harmon came up behind as they went down the few steps to the back lot that they’d finally cleaned up enough to park cars in. Thomas held out her hand for the keys. He held them up but didn’t release them yet.
“You still haven’t told me what this is about.”
Harmon pulled out some latex gloves and slipped them on. “We’re working on an assault case.”
“And my truck was identified in it?”
Neither one answered, but Harmon took the keys and unlocked the truck then began digging inside. Thomas climbed in the back.
“Scott?” Heather sidled closer, touching his arm.
He didn’t have any answers and it didn’t look like he was going to get any right now. Hopefully whoever had filed the charges had gotten the wrong vehicle. There were tons of black trucks in the area.
“Do you have a key to this toolbox?” Thomas asked, pointing to his industrial size container that was clamped onto the front of the bed.
“It’s on the key chain your partner has.”
“Walt, I need that key.”
Harmon tossed the key chain to her and she proceeded to open his toolbox then rummaged through his tools.
“What do my tools have to do with what you’re looking for? I assume it was a hit and run. Shouldn’t you be checking for dents in the fenders and stuff?”
Thomas slammed the toolbox shut and kicked at the tarp crumpled in the corner. Bending over, she looked closer at the material. What the heck was so interesting in there? He’d recently hauled some lumber in, so it couldn’t be much more than wood chips and sawdust.
Pulling a plastic bag from inside her coat, she used a corner of the tarp to pick something up. An adjustable wrench. How did that get there? He was meticulous about putting his tools back in the box. He couldn’t afford to keep buying new tools if the old ones got wet and rusted.
“I’ve got something here, Walt.”
Thomas jumped out of the back of the truck bed as her partner climbed from the cab. She’d put the wrench in the bag.
“What is so interesting about my wrench? And what the hell is this all about? What assault are we talking about?”
“There’s a bit of blood on this and a few hairs stuck in the screw.” Thomas’s eyes lit up and a smirk split her face.
Blood? And hair? Moving closer he gazed at the evidence bag. A tiny bit of red dotted the metal surface, but the hair was a vivid shade of aqua. Aqua? He glanced down at his arm and the still noticeable scratches. Shit. Another fuck-up, but this one was moved to a whole different level.
“Heather,” he mumbled his eyes searching her concerned face. “Do you know a good lawyer?”
Her hand clutched his arm tighter. “What’s going on, Scott?”
“I don’t know. But I’m beginning to get the feeling all these little inconveniences weren’t simply coincidental.”
“Sir,” Harmon addressed him, “I think you should come down to the station with us. If you feel you need a lawyer, they can meet you there.”
“Am I being arrested? Because if so, I want to know what the charges are.”
“We merely need you for questioning right now, Mr. Holland. We can provide you with more information once we get to the station. It might be best if you rode with us. We’re parked out front. We’ll need to impound your vehicle.”
What would they do if he refused? The lady cop looked like she was itching to whip out her handcuffs and slap them on him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, though. Once he explained it all to them, they’d apologize and let him go, right? Okay, they might not apologize, but he didn’t care. As long as everything got cleared up.
“What do you want me to do?” Heather’s anxious expression warmed him. “Should I follow you down?”
“No, but you should call Jack and let him know what’s happening. Not that I even know. Just tell him.”
Lifting his hand, he stroked his fingers down her cheek. “Stay near your phone. I’m hoping this will be over with fast and I’ll need a ride back here.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
As he got into the back of the dark-colored Crown Victoria, he liked the idea of Heather waiting for him. Is this how Jack felt when he returned each night to Callie and Jonathan? If it was, it wasn’t a bad feeling. Hopefully he’d get a chance to explore it further. With the way his luck had been lately though it was a long shot.
* * * *
The tick of the clock echoed in the still room. Scott ran his hands through his hair again, taking a deep breath as he paced. He’d been escorted here about twenty minutes ago and been told someone would be with him soon. Glancing around the stark room, he wondered if they were watching him behind the mirror. Waiting to see if he’d crack? Like in the cop shows he watched too much of. He’d texted Drew on his way over. Hopefully, his friend could help him figure this out.
He sat in the wooden chair near the table and rested his head in his hands. Since he’d bought the mill building four months ago, too many problems had cropped up. Now this. They hadn’t given him any more information, but seeing the aqua-colored hair on the wrench provided him with some of the answers he needed. The crazy lady from the bar a few days ago. Damn, had it been a set-up? Or was she simply spreading more craziness with an assault story?
The door opened and the two detectives walked in. Thomas moved to the wall near the mirror while Harmon sat across from him putting a folder on the table.
“Mr. Holland, sorry it took awhile. We had a few things we needed to process first.”
“You want to tell me what this is about?”
The detective pulled out a card and started reading. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”
“Do I need a lawyer here?” Even if Drew did show up, there was no way he could represent him. He worked for the district attorney.
“It’s your right. Do you want one here for questioning?”
“I didn’t do anything, so why would I need one?”
“I’m simply clarifying. You are agreeing to be questioned without an attorney present?”
Nodding his head, Scott wished he had thought about this a bit more. But he wanted the truth out and this over with. He hadn’t done anything.
“You claim you were in a bar called Jake’s on Wednesday night at about six PM,” Harmon stated.
“Yes, I told you I had one drink with my cousin then went home.”
“And you don’t know a woman named Carla Findley?”
“No.” The blue-haired lady?
“Surveillance tape at Jake’s says otherwise,” Thomas interrupted, her tone accusatory.
“Is she young with aqua streaks in her hair?”
“Then you do know her?”
“I’d never seen her before that night. And I haven’t seen her since. She stumbled into me then threw a tizzy fit when I tried to keep her from falling.”
“That made you mad?” Thomas sneered.
“Not mad, no. I was curious why she was having such a fit. She almost looked afraid and I thought someone might be bothering her.”
“So you followed her out of the bar?”
“No, I paid my tab and left. I never saw her after that.”
Thomas took a few steps closer and leaned on the table. “The wrench we found in your truck says otherwise.”
“What exactly is this lady saying I did?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Opening the folder, Harmon picked up a picture, flipping it in his direction. Fuck. The woman’s face was barely recognizable. Eyes swollen and red, lip cut and bloody, and bruises dotting her cheeks. Her blue hair was apparent, though.
“Holy shit. I did not do this. Aside from the few minutes in the bar I never saw her again.”
Harmon tilted his head. “And you have no one who can verify your whereabouts after you left the bar?”
Damn it, no. Why hadn’t he gone to Heather’s to have her tend to his scratches? She may have kicked him out, but at least he’d have an alibi.
“No, I told you I went home. By myself. I had another few beers and watched the game.”
“Do you often drink that much, Mr. Holland?” Thomas asked.
“It was a few beers. I’d only had one at the bar. I certainly wasn’t drunk. Not then. And I never touched that lady. She said I did this to her?”
Harmon put the picture back in the file. “She didn’t come willingly to the station. Someone reported her passed out a few streets over from Jake’s. The hospital called us and we took the report.”
Thomas leaned closer. “She said it was some guy she met in a bar who wouldn’t take no for an answer. We processed her clothing and jewelry and found your fingerprints on her bracelet. Plus the footage at Jake’s showed us your confrontation.”
His heart beat faster at the implications of this evidence. “It wasn’t a confrontation. I only tried to help her.” Taking a deep breath to control his temper, he continued, “My fingerprints are on her bracelet because she almost fell and I grabbed her to keep her steady. If you look at the footage you’ll see I didn’t do anything to her.”
“She seemed awfully upset in the video.”
Scott shook his head. “I have no idea why she started flipping out. I didn’t do anything except help her up.”
“You say you had nothing to do with her assault yet your knuckles are all bruised and cut. Like you hit something a few times. There are bruises on your face too.”
“We had an accident on the job site a few days ago. I got them then.” He glanced at his hands. Would they believe him? He certainly had witnesses for that.
“Did you see a doctor?”
“No, it wasn’t that serious. My partner cleaned them up for me.”
“How did you get those scratches on your arm? From the accident too?”
Running his fingers along the healing skin, Scott said, “No, that lady, Carla you said her name was, scratched me when she pulled away.”
Thomas narrowed her eyes. “Why would she have to pull away if you weren’t hurting her?”
“I thought you people said you looked at the security tape.” He was getting worked up and that wasn’t good. Deep breath. Keep it calm. Like when you were under fire in the sandbox.
“We did.”
“Can’t you see that I didn’t hurt her in any way?”
Harmon shrugged. “There were a few people in the way so we can’t see much except Ms. Findley and her reactions. As you said, she looked anxious and afraid.”
How could he convince these people he was the good guy? The odds weren’t looking too favorable.
“Ms. Findley claims you followed her out of the bar then forced her near your truck parked in a dark lot. You attempted to gain sexual favors from her. When she refused, you started beating on her. She fought back, kicking and punching, but at one point you grabbed the wrench from your vehicle and struck her with it. She said noise from a group of people caught your attention and she was able to get away. She stumbled into the alley and doesn’t remember anything until the paramedics showed up.”
Heat crawled up Scott’s neck and rushed through his blood. What the heck did this chick have against him?
“I don’t know why she’s saying all this, but I’m telling you I never touched her after the bar.”
“But you admit you did touch her in the bar?” Thomas said. “We’ve got DNA from under her fingernails. Her hair, and I assume her blood, on a wrench found in your vehicle, your fingerprints on her bracelet. Not to mention the video evidence of you having an altercation with her in the bar. That’s pretty damning evidence, Mr. Holland. Are you sure you don’t want to give us a statement?”
He stayed quiet. Anxiety and rage filled him but screaming at these people sure wasn’t the way to convince them he was innocent.
“Have you looked at my background?” he finally said, needing them to know the truth. “I’ve never been arrested, have no violent tendencies, and run a legal prosperous business. I have no reason to attack this woman.”
Harmon flipped through the file in front of him. “It says here you were in Afghanistan for a few years.”
“Yes.” Where was he going with that information? Didn’t service to your country deserve bonus points.
“War can do terrible things to someone’s mind. Were you traumatized while over there?” Thomas asked, her lips pursed. “Perhaps there was some sort of flashback and you attacked Ms. Findley, not realizing who she was.”
“I wasn’t having a flashback and I don’t have PTSD.” Not that he didn’t have nightmares occasionally, but he’d certainly never tell them that. It wasn’t relevant.
“You were upset about the recent accident on the job site and decided to take out your frustrations on her when she wouldn’t concede to your advances.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I never touched her?” His tone showed his annoyance and he flinched at the anger coming through. Stay in control. Don’t let them get to you.
Thomas pulled the file closer to her then pushed aside a few of the sheets. Damn, what did they have in there?
“What is your connection to the Northside Dragons?”
Shit, this was getting too hot.
“The street gang?” he stalled. “What do they have to do with this?”
“According to our intelligence, your company has hired quite a few members of the gang.”
“I don’t hire anyone who is still in a street gang. All my employees have to go through a rigorous training. They stay clean and legal while they’re working for me.”
“And yet you employ dozens of known former gang members, but only from the Northside Dragons. I’d like to know what your connection is. Why that gang and not another one?”
Did he tell the truth or shrug it off? What would be better for his case?
“I helped out the sister of one of them once and they know I’ll give them a fair shake if they want to get out. I have nothing to do with the gang itself.”
“Did you assault Ms. Findley as a favor to the Northside Dragons?”
“What? No. I admit to hiring some of their former members but I have no knowledge of any of their dealings.” That much was true. He kept his nose out of their business, happily.
“You know, Mr. Holland, this doesn’t look good for you.” Thomas looked downright smug.
“I don’t know what else to say to you to make you understand I had nothing to do with assaulting Ms. Findley. Maybe you should spend some time finding the real culprit instead of harassing me.”
“This information”—Thomas pointed to the file still open on the table—“indicates we have found the perpetrator.”
Looking at Harmon, Scott hoped to find more sympathy. The detective’s face was set and he shook his head.
“I’m afraid we do have enough evidence to charge you with assault and battery. The victim identified your picture plus the wrench and fingerprints.”
“Scott Holland, you are under arrest for assault, battery, attempted rape…”
The words melted into the pounding of his heart, so loud he though his head might explode. This shit was real.
“The DNA results from the skin under her fingernails won’t be back for a few weeks, but until then we have enough to hold you.”
The DNA. That wasn’t going to help him at all. He knew damn well what they’d find. The DNA would be his and that might be the final nail in his coffin.