8
Maybe I should give it up, Tabitha. Go ahead and announce my retirement.”
Tabitha stood. “Eric, I’m speaking as your chief of police as well as your friend. We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“They’re not terrorists.”
“Actually, they rather are. But whatever name you want to put on them, we’re not budging. You are not conceding the race. That’s the act of a coward. Something you’re not and never have been.”
“I was hoping you’d see the action as more of a selfless sacrifice. As a way to save our city.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “Bianchi’s power has grown to epic proportions.”
Tabitha paced her office. “I know. It seems like every time we get a shot at taking him down, he finds out and slithers away.”
“Exactly.”
“It should not be that hard to find the man.”
“But it is. It’s been nigh on impossible and the people in this city are terrified. It’s getting worse by the day.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “And I can stop it.”
“At what expense, Eric?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Why does he want you out and Melissa Endicott in so bad?”
“Becau—”
“Because he can control her,” she snapped. She jabbed a finger at him. “And if he controls her, he can get rid of me. And then whoever takes my place will bow to Bianchi and there will be no one in power to stand up to him.”
“I know,” her friend whispered. “I know.” He stood and paced to the window. “I don’t want to see that happen.” He cleared his throat. “We can’t let it happen.”
“I agree. Just hang on a little longer, Eric. I’m working on bringing him down. And soon.”
“I hope so.” He stood and gathered his jacket. “I’m afraid for my family. I’ve sent them to stay with Elise’s mother in Utah.”
She sighed. “I understand and it’s not a bad idea to be on the safe side, but I’ve been thinking about this.”
“About what?”
“Bianchi’s threats. He’s done everything in his power—which, as we’ve discussed, is considerable—to make sure crime and gang violence are out of control. Or at least appear to be.”
“Yes.” He returned to the wing-backed chair opposite her desk. “And?”
“And I’ve come up with a plan that I think can bring an end to this mess.”
Eric tilted his head and raised a brow. “All right, I’m listening. What’s your plan?”
“We make it look like you’re throwing the election.”
“What?”
“In other words, we give Bianchi what he wants.”
Izzy stood at David Unger’s desk and waited for him to pull a chair around. His office, on the lower level of 1 Justice Square, was a floor below her own.
She settled herself beside him and fidgeted with the ring on her pinkie finger while he pulled up the camera footage. “Thanks for doing this on your day off.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Not like I had anything better to do.”
“Except maybe sleep in?”
“Yeah, that would have been nice, but catching a killer is a priority.”
He had monitors everywhere. National news played on one, local on another, the weather channel on yet another.
“Do you mind if I watch?”
Ryan’s voice came from the doorway, jerking David around to look at him. Izzy found she wasn’t even surprised Ryan had shown up. Subconsciously, she’d probably expected him to do so. Turning, she locked her eyes on his. “You know you can’t investigate this officially, right?”
He frowned. “Of course I know that.”
But it wouldn’t stop him from doing what he could to stay informed and on top of the investigation.
David nodded. “Okay, grab that chair and have a seat.”
Ryan seated himself and David got busy. While the man worked, his fingers moving the mouse, then clicking over the keyboard, Ryan turned to Izzy. “Charice found Jonathan Gill’s family. They live about thirty minutes from here. You want to go with us after we’re done here?”
“You really shouldn’t be going.”
“Charice will be there. I’m just going to listen.”
“From the car?”
He scowled at her. “You want to go or not?”
“Of course.”
Finally, a black-and-white video appeared on the monitor. David pressed play.
Izzy leaned forward. “That’s the camera from the ladder. The highest point in the building.”
“Yeah. I would say so. It’s got a pretty sharp angle, but you can see the entire bottom floor with only a few places out of range. Like the office in the corner.”
“There’s a back door that leads directly into the office,” Izzy said. “We won’t be able to see any of that area.”
And no video of the balcony.
Izzy sat back with a thud. Derek wouldn’t be on this footage. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to be the bad guy and spill the information, but it looked like she wasn’t going to have any other choice.
On the screen three men came into range. She recognized the two she and Kevin had seen arrive during their stakeout. The other man must have already been there. From the angle that he entered the video, it looked as if he had come from the small office at the back. One set his rifle on the floor and she heard the light thud.
“There’s audio?” Izzy asked.
“Yeah. This is some kind of superduper spy camera. Quality stuff. They’re standing pretty much right below it, so we should be able to hear everything they say.”
He cranked the volume up.
“Get the pictures and get out. Understand?”
The first one, a man who looked to be in his late forties, nodded. “It’s already arranged.”
“Who are these guys?” Ryan asked.
“Don’t know yet,” David said. He paused the footage and took still shots of each of the men’s faces. “We’ll run their faces through the system and see if we get a hit. I have a feeling this isn’t their first rodeo.”
He let the video continue while the recognition software ran in the background.
And then there was Kevin on the screen and sneaking around the door. Ryan’s breath left him in a whoosh and Izzy reached back to take his hand. He squeezed her fingers.
The men didn’t see Kevin and he settled into his little spot behind the wooden crates.
The guy who appeared to be the one in charge asked about the weapons. The shortest of the three men reached into the nearest box and pulled one out. He passed it to the man, who loaded the ammo, then aimed it at the wall. He nodded. “The buyer will be here day after tomorrow. The boss needs seventy of these.”
“They’re packed in those boxes near the door.”
“Good.” He set the weapon aside. “Now for other business. Are we ready?”
“We’re ready.”
“You have the entry and exit points narrowed down?”
“We do.”
“Good.”
Another man walked up to the three. The man who had been giving orders said, “Ready, boss,” then started across the warehouse and walked out of camera range.
“Get these weapons ready to ship,” the boss said. “I’ve got a little business to take care of.” He turned to look behind him.
“What’s he looking at?” Ryan asked.
“I can’t tell,” David said. “The angle doesn’t go back that way.”
The boss had turned back and was now facing Kevin’s hiding place with narrowed eyes. He pulled his weapon and aimed it in Kevin’s direction. The others pulled theirs as well and stepped out of his way.
“What is it?” the shorter man asked.
“There,” Ryan said and pointed. “He saw Kevin move. Kevin messed up and showed himself.”
“But why? Why would he take that chance?” Izzy asked. “Back it up and zoom in if you can.”
“Of course I can. I can slow it down too.” He did as directed and Izzy watched Kevin move his hand around the edge of the crates.
“Wait a minute,” Ryan said. “That’s his phone. Is he recording them?”
“Yes.” Izzy leaned in.
Ryan’s eyes stayed glued to the screen. “He’s recording them and it looks like he moved to get a better angle of something.”
“And that’s why they spotted him. He risked—no, gave his life to get something on video.” Izzy sat back with a thump. He’d recorded the suspects, had their faces on the camera. So why ask her to hide it? Was he protecting someone? Like her brother? The camera was definitely aimed in his direction. “I want to know if any of those guys are undercover.”
David raised a brow. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Just curious.”
“No, you’re not. You have a reason for asking,” Ryan said. “Do you recognize someone?”
“No.” Izzy shot him a tight smile. “So just humor me, okay?”
David turned back to the screen. “I don’t know if they’re undercover or not. I can send the photos up to your mother’s office and ask, letting her know the reason why.”
“Thanks.” Because if Derek was working undercover, then he might be working in conjunction with one of the other men in the video. And if that was the case, she could rest a little easier about the situation. Maybe.
She’d left Kevin’s phone at home, unable to face going through it, putting it off until she could prepare herself. Now she couldn’t wait to get her hands on it.
David started the video again.
The boss had seen Kevin’s hand and drawn his weapon, aiming it at the crates. Now he motioned across the warehouse—probably to the man who’d left the threesome earlier—to go around the side of Kevin’s hiding place. Kevin hadn’t seen that part. He’d been recording the three, but had his head down, trying to stay invisible.
Izzy’s heart thundered, knowing what was coming. She wanted to turn away but couldn’t. Ryan’s waves of tension reached her.
A shadowed figure came around the side of the crate. Kevin jerked and spun.
“What are you doing here, huh? You a cop?”
The gun popped twice and the bullets hit Kevin one right after the other. He went down, shock and surprise on his face. The camera caught Izzy at the warehouse entrance. Another spate of bullets echoed through the room and then there was Izzy, running inside to throw herself on the floor next to Kevin.
She looked away. Then took a deep breath and forced herself to focus back on the screen. Waiting.
And there it was. Another shot. A loud thud as a body hit the warehouse floor. Izzy, on screen, turning and looking up.
Ryan pointed. “What was that?”
Grief and anger roughened his words and Izzy fought to figure out what to say. She just couldn’t tell him about Derek’s presence. Not yet.
“What was it?” Ryan said. He looked at her. “What’d you see? You were looking right there.”
“That’s the dead guy in the morgue. There was someone else on the balcony. Someone who shot him and ran.”
“Who?”
“I . . . don’t know.” She winced as the words slipped from her lips. She’d lied. Flat-out lied. Guilt rammed her and fury with Derek built within her. “I didn’t get a good look at his face, he was turning to leave when I looked up.” Well, that was true enough.
“We need to know who else was there and why.”
“Yes,” she said. “We sure do need to know why.”
Ryan still stared at the screen, even though David had closed the program. Izzy had excused herself to the restroom after they were finished, and Ryan stayed seated, unable to move just yet while he tried to breathe through the pain of watching his brother get shot.
He did take note of the man who’d pulled the trigger. He needed to see the man’s face. It was the only reason he’d wanted to watch the video. The only reason he’d put himself through the agony of it. But that face would stay with him forever now. Ryan would hunt it down and make sure he and the consequences of his actions had a meeting. If he lived to go to trial, fine. If not, that was fine too. But one way or another, he was going to pay.
His mother’s words still rang through his mind. “You’re going to quit the force.” The absolute terror with which she’d said the words had kept him from responding with the instant denial that had popped into his head.
Instead, he’d drawn a deep breath, then knelt before her and taken her hand. He kissed it while tears ran down both their faces. “No, Mom, I’m going to get the person who killed him. Look into my eyes and tell me you think I can just turn in my badge and my gun and let someone else handle this. That I can just walk away. You really think I can do that?”
A low, gutteral cry had ripped from her. “No. No, you can’t. I know that. But—”
“No buts, Mom.”
She’d wailed a cry that still echoed in his head along with her words. He’d looked into his father’s eyes and saw a chilling emptiness. “Dad?” His father simply stared, not blinking, not crying, nothing. “Dad?”
Finally, his father locked eyes with him. “You get him, son. And you make him pay. Understood?”
Ryan gave a slow nod. “Understood, Dad.”
“Ryan, you okay?”
David’s question sounded like a shot in the quiet room and Ryan flinched. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Actually, that was a dumb question. Sorry.”
Ryan shook his head. “It’s okay.”
“I have a kid brother. He’s five years younger. I don’t know what I’d do in your shoes.”
Ryan looked up. “You’d go find the guy who killed him.”
“Yeah. You’re right about that. That’s exactly what I would do.” He cleared his throat. “I got a hit on three of the four faces in the warehouse.”
“Who are they?”
“Guys with rap sheets, but mostly small-time stuff.” He brought up the screen with all of them on it and pointed. “That guy is Peter Leahy, the one to his left is Xavier Bowles. That guy there is big time. Tony Bianchi.”
“Bianchi, huh?”
“Yes. You’ve heard of him, I’m sure.”
“I’ve heard of him. I should have recognized him.”
David nodded. “Then I guess you know they call him The Iceman. It’s rumored he’s been responsible for almost twenty law enforcement deaths in the last ten years.”
“And he’s still out there,” Ryan muttered. “No one’s been able to catch him. He manages to slip away every single time. It’s eerie. I’ve heard his name for years, but never had any dealings with him. Mainly because no one can ever find him.”
“Well, he’s coming out of hiding for some reason. And you’re dealing with him now.” He held up a hand. “I take that back. The officers who are investigating Kevin’s death are dealing with him. You, however, are not. Right?”
“Right,” the voice said from behind him.
Ryan turned to find his partner in the doorway. “Hey.”
Charice stepped into the room. “I figured you might be down here.”
“What’s up?”
“That guy who was arrested last night at the warehouse, Carl Timmons, was just murdered.”
Ryan froze. “What?”
She nodded and leaned against the doorjamb. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Ryan slammed a fist onto the table and stood. “He was our best lead to find the guy who killed Kevin.” He looked at David. “Unless you got a name?”
David grimaced. “Unfortunately, he’s the one I didn’t get a hit on.”
Disappointment flashed. “All right.” He rubbed his eyes and looked at Charice. “Who killed Timmons?”
“Don’t know. Right now, no one’s talking and nothing’s on surveillance video. It happened in the shower.”
“Of course it did.”
“One good piece of news is that we did get footage of the group of men all going into the showers at the same time. We’re questioning them individually, but so far no one’s spilling anything.”
And most likely, if he didn’t want to be the next victim, no one would say anything.
Ryan nodded. “It’s okay. I’ll find him anyway.” Somehow. He told her about getting the hit on Tony Bianchi. “We need to find him. He’s the one in charge of all of this.”
Charice nodded. “It could be Bianchi was the one who bought the warehouse and set up his dummy corporation to run his dirty money through,” she said.
“And weapons,” Ryan said. They’d gotten the pictures off the camera Kevin had left in the car. Not to mention the gun that had been shown to the man in charge before Kevin had been spotted. It had been dropped in the chaos. On the plus side, it had been the catalyst for a warrant and all contents of the warehouse had been seized. If the weapons pictured there had hit the streets, Ryan shuddered to think of the damage. “So Bianchi has ties to the Crips. And the Bloods are expanding their territory, moving closer to where this warehouse is. What if Bianchi’s not comfortable with that? What if the gang wars are directed by Bianchi to get the Bloods to move back?”
“It’s possible. If he’s funneling money to the leader, then I can see that happening easily.”
“It’s also possible that Timmons knew more than Bianchi was happy with him knowing while being in custody of the police.”
“I’d say that’s the most likely scenario,” Ryan said.
“I think we can now safely assume that Bricks & Sticks is definitely a dummy corporation,” Charice said. “Run by Tony Bianchi. You think it’s his headquarters?”
“No way,” Ryan said. “But something was important enough for him to show up last night.” He paused. “So, they purchased it from Jonathan Gill—or whoever inherited the place when he died. Who would that be?”
Charice shrugged. “His family, I guess. I can ask them when I see them this afternoon.”
“Good,” Ryan said. “I want to know if there’s a connection between them and Bianchi.”
“I’ll try to figure that out before I get there,” Charice said.
“We.”
“Ryan, we talked about this and—”
“I can just tag along. I don’t have to do the questioning. You can do that. We agreed. And Izzy’s coming too.”
Charice pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes and nodded. “Fine.”
“Listen,” David said, his gaze jumping back and forth between the two of them, “you didn’t get any of this from me, okay? As much as I would be doing the same thing you are when it comes to finding my brother’s killer, I need this job.”
“Don’t worry, David,” Ryan said, “this is our little secret.”
He wasn’t technically investigating, and he wasn’t interfering. He wouldn’t do anything that might be construed as such. Yes, it was his brother who’d been killed. Yes, it was a conflict of interest for him to be a part of the investigation.
But he couldn’t sit back and do nothing. He had to at least stay on top of what was being done to find Kevin’s killers. As long as he knew what everyone else knew, he would be able to release Kevin’s investigation into other very capable hands—or at least not hold on to it with such a tight fist. “I want everything to be on the up and up if this ever comes to trial. I’m simply an observer, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He turned back to his computer and Charice gave Ryan a small salute. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news about Timmons,” she said.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“I’m going to go work on finding a connection between the Gills and Bianchi before we head out. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks.”
She left and Ryan shot a text to Lincoln St. John. As a special agent with the FBI, he had more resources than Ryan—and if Bianchi was involved, a vested interest in finding Kevin’s killer. There was no reason not to ask.
Need to know current info on Tony Bianchi.
Why?
He was in the warehouse when Kevin was killed.
How do you know?
I have a source.
Right. A source. I’ll be in touch.
When he looked up from his phone, the local news playing on the monitor to his right caught his attention. The chief of police was standing on the hospital steps in front of a tangle of microphones.
It was recorded footage of her statement about Kevin’s shooting and subsequent death. He knew because he’d seen it looping last night. The current mayor stood beside her, looking pale and worn. The lines on his face seemed to have deepened over the course of the election, but lately even more so.
That segment ended and the video switched to a live feed. Another woman stepped into view. Melissa Endicott—the woman who wanted to replace Mayor Eric Cotterill in the upcoming election. “Thank you,” she said into the microphone on the podium. “I appreciate you all for coming.”
Like the press would miss it. Her campaign manager, Gabrielle Sinclair, stood off to the side in the back. Ryan shook his head. He had to give Izzy props for not letting political affiliations mar her friendship with the woman.
Endicott adjusted the microphone and leaned in. “As you know, the election is fast approaching. Next week, people.” She pointed to the air as though her audience could visualize the time and place. “Next week.” She dropped her hand. “I want to encourage you to look at the facts. Our current mayor is a nice man, a good man.” She spread her hands and shrugged. “I like him and believe he’s done a good job during his time in office. But something’s changed in the last couple of years. Look at the statistics, and you’ll see—crime is rising, especially with the gangs. Have you noticed the rise in drive-by shootings and knifings? It’s unprecedented. And our officers’ salaries haven’t been raised in two years. It’s time to pay our officers what they deserve. In short, the police department needs a complete overhaul . . .”
The volume lowered and David set the remote next to his computer. “What do you think about her?”
Ryan shrugged. “She seems like a good enough candidate. She doesn’t really fight dirty, just kind of tells it like it is.” It was all she’d had to do.
He wasn’t opposed to having her in office, but Mayor Eric Cotterill was a longtime friend. However, Ryan had to admit, he agreed with a lot of what Melissa said and knew others did too. Eric should have been bringing his A-game in order to keep his position, but for some reason, he wasn’t.
“Yeah. She’s popular and I think she’ll win,” David said. “What does the chief think about her?”
Ryan frowned. “She doesn’t seem to have an opinion about her one way or the other. Or if she does, she’s not expressing it.”
“Playing her cards close to the chest?”
“Something like that.”
Eric Cotterill and Tabitha St. John had grown up together, their families often getting together to celebrate holidays and birthdays. Ryan knew this because his family was also within that circle.
But maybe some fresh blood in the office would be a good thing. His eyes went to the door Izzy had slipped out of not too long ago. And maybe he’d just keep his thoughts to himself. No sense in provoking World War III. Not while he needed Izzy’s help in finding his brother’s killer.