Chapter 28
Demond reviewed the police report as he stood in the center of the young man’s bedroom. Brighton City police discovered the body shortly before ten o’clock when the coffee shop prepared to close and an employee hauled out the trash. The young man had no identification on his person but process of elimination singled out his vehicle and police checked his license and registration to learn his name. Nothing out of the ordinary about the murder. Sad to say in that part of town, drive-by shootings were commonplace.
It was only when police broke into his apartment that they called the FBI. A waded stack of one-hundred-dollar bills perched on the bureau in the bedroom, the wrapper clearly stamped by the Good Neighbor Bank. A bank statement bearing the name Mackenna McElroy sat beside the bundle of money, which the police recognized from the FBI alert. Demond considered the logical explanation that Mackenna was his partner. And since he was dead and she was missing, it was safe to hypothesize that she double-crossed him, maybe even killed him and was on the run. That scenario caused him to shake his head in disbelief. She didn’t strike him as the killer type.
Another premise was that she too was dead somewhere, which assumed a third party was involved in the scheme. Jake? No, Demond refused to let his mind go there.
Unless and until Mackenna’s body was found, Demond favored his theory that she was a fugitive. And possibly a murderer. So far, there was still no trace of her. She was one smooth operative, he’d give her that.
Jake would be devastated when he learned these new details. Jake had developed feelings for the woman. Demond recognized the shine in his eyes and he felt partly responsible for that since he’d been the one to encourage Jake to get closer to Mackenna. But Jake should have known better. As an FBI agent you sealed your emotions away and did the job on every case.
Well, developing feelings for Mackenna McElroy created a conflict of interest for Agent Jake Manettia. Knowing that, Demond should withhold this new intelligence. But Jake was also his friend and he wanted Jake to grasp the whole complicated picture. As if bank robbery wasn’t serious enough, Mackenna could be facing murder charges and if Jake knew where she was, he needed to bring her in right away.
He texted Jake’s cell phone first, typing a message for Jake to call ASAP. Minutes ticked by with no response so he called the undercover phone, a risk he debated but decided to take. The call went to voicemail and he recited a terse message. “Call me, ASAP. Nine-one-one.”
Demond searched the apartment. Tucked in a plastic bin in the back of the man’s closet he found women’s clothing, a blond curly wig and fake eyeglasses. They matched the description of the outfit worn by the female bank robber. Antsy to contact Jake, Demond glanced at his phone every few seconds. Where the hell was he?
When the phone finally rang, he was disappointed to hear one of the FBI’s computer experts on the other end. His information bewildered Demond. “What do you mean an agent from the Alabama office has been nosing around the electronic files in the Good Neighbor bank robberies? Who is it?”
The tech guy couldn’t tell, saying whoever tiptoed through the files was a pro and left no digital footprints. He’d only caught it because he’d been in the file at the same time and noticed a movement on the screen.
“Well, keep an eye on it and if there’s any additional activity, let me know right away.”
Damn. Jake was based in the Alabama office. What was he up to? Maybe he planned to go over the wall. It wouldn’t be the first time an agent strayed to the wrong side of the law for a woman. He didn’t doubt that Mackenna McElroy infatuated Jake. Was it more than that? Had Jake conspired with her?
Again, Demond dismissed the notion. He knew Jake better than that. The kid lived and breathed the FBI.
An hour later, and still no word from Jake. For as anxious as Jake was for information about the bank robberies and by default Mackenna’s involvement, he should’ve called by now.
Demond dialed Courtney and she relayed the details about the Cabacolli meet, which could explain Jake’s silence. Courtney said surveillance was positioned thirty minutes before the meet was to take place and now, hours later, Jake remained a no-show. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. If Jake decided to call off the meeting or delay it for any reason, there were ways to let the team know. Courtney said the bosses were conferring about what to do. Her gut feeling was the same as his. This wasn’t good.
An incoming beep ended the call with Courtney’s assurance that as soon as Jake checked in, she’d contact Demond.
This was better news. The all-points alert issued for Mackenna had paid off. A state trooper cruising a rest stop on the turnpike found her car more than one-hundred miles away from Brighton City. There was no sign of her and none of the employees working inside the building provided any additional information. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. But few travelers parked their cars at highway rest stops for any length of time. The trooper suggested the stop was a meet-up destination and a friend picked up Mackenna.
Demond considered the same conclusion. No signs of Mackenna or Jake. Was that a big fat clue staring him in the face? While he arranged to tow the Taurus back, he dialed Jake again and left another message.
“I hope you’re not throwing away your career, Jake. Don’t do anything stupid. If you’re with her, bring her in. I can’t keep this under wraps much longer. Call me.”
~ ~ ~
Jake silently swore at his phone vibrating in his palm. He’d missed one text message and two phone calls from Demond while riding in the backseat of Vinny’s car. He’d give anything to know what that was about. Had Demond located Mackenna?
And now, finally, Mackenna was calling. But he couldn’t answer her call either, not without his escorts hearing the conversation. He’d allow time for her to record a message and then discreetly listen to it.
So far, this trip had been a long, silent one, longer than Jake thought it should take to get to the restaurant. But maybe they had to pick up Vinny somewhere first. Not even the radio played to break the monotony. Neither driver nor passenger conversed and Jake had no interest in chatting with them. Lounging in the back seat, he studied the scenery out the back window until the car crossed an unfamiliar bridge. This was a part of town he didn’t recognize and it sure as hell wasn’t where the restaurant was located.
He leaned forward. “Where are you going, buddy? This isn’t the way to Cabacolli’s.”
The goon in the passenger seat responded, “I told you. Something came up. The boss will meet us.” Then he laughed a hoarse, cigarette-smoker’s laugh. “Dinner will be late.” The driver joined in on the joke.
Jake’s back stiffened and his fingers and toes turned cold. This was a set-up. It had to be. Vinny was on to him. But how? There hadn’t been any slips, he was certain. Prior to his arrest, he and Vinny never discussed business. They’d been more like fraternity brothers sharing good times. Even when he accompanied Vinny on his shake downs, there’d been little conversation about what happened inside the businesses. Vinny played it safe that way.
Likewise after Jake’s arrest, other than that one question about his role in the City Hall sting, he and Vinny didn’t discuss the subject. Of course, Jake hadn’t figured out yet how Vinny knew where he lived. Was he overreacting? Vinny mentioned that his stepdad wanted to put Jake on the payroll. It seemed feasible that business like that would be conducted elsewhere, not in a five-star restaurant that attracted every bigwig in town. But the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck pinched. Something was off.
The advantage was Jake’s, however. They thought he was a paltry criminal, not a highly-trained FBI agent capable of survival under the worst conditions. Clear your mind, Manettia. Total detachment. That’s what you’ll need to beat them at this game.
The car traveled fast, too fast for Jake to dive out the door. It wouldn’t do any good since he wasn’t armed and had no idea where he was. No sense adding to the unknowns of the night. He’d be better equipped to deal with this once he knew the situation. And the odds. He leaned out of the driver’s line of sight and retrieved his phone messages. Demond wanted him to call ASAP. What did he mean bring Mackenna in? What happened?
Mackenna’s message chilled him. In a soft, vulnerable voice, sounding like a child, she asked for his help. And then she screamed and Vinny snarled into the phone, directing Jake to cease his undercover game. Jesus Christ, he was made. If that wasn’t bad enough, Mackenna was with Vinny. How the hell had that happened when the whole goddamn FBI couldn’t find her?
He hadn’t wanted this. He should have left her alone as ordered. He never should have taken her to bed, let alone fallen in love with her. She was his Achilles heel and Vinny knew it. Nothing to do now but destroy Vinny, officially or otherwise. If it was the last thing Jake did, he’d kill him for involving Mackenna in this. Street code dictated honor among thieves. Dragging Mackenna into it crossed the line. If Vinny harmed one hair on her head, all bets were off as far as Jake Manettia, FBI agent was concerned. Meet Jake Manfred, street fighter.
His temper boiled and he leaned forward again. “Hey, asswipes. Call your boss and tell him to keep his hands off her or I’ll kill him.” Both men laughed and Jake punched the back of the passenger seat. “Do it or so help me I’ll kill you too.”
“You’re outnumbered, don’t you think?” The goon on the right chuckled. “I’d like to see you try, though. Don’t worry, we’re just about there. You can talk to the boss yourself.”
Jake peered out the window when the car slowed. They were in the warehouse district on the water but where? By now, his colleagues realized he wasn’t showing up for dinner at Cabacolli’s Casaria. Someone back at the office had to be tracking him. But would they find him before a cement stone tied to his feet dragged him to the river bottom? Several disappearances classified as unsolved murders were attributed to the Cabacolli family, although without a body there was never proof. Was this how Cabacolli disposed of his enemies?
The car halted suddenly and a spotlight the size of a car tire switched on, immediately blinding him. Someone yanked open the passenger door. “Out. Stand next to the car. There are three high-powered assault rifles aimed at your head and your belly so don’t try anything.”
The light blinded Jake and he squinted, trying to focus. Situational awareness was key to his survival. The thug from the passenger seat stepped in front of him, blocking the light and momentarily enabling his vision. Three shapes stood outlined in the white glow, each aiming a weapon at him.
“Take off your clothes, pretty boy. Down to your shorts. Spare us a look at your weenie, please.”
A handful of snickers drifted toward him on the breeze and the man stepped aside, once again blinding him.
Had he heard right? Through the bright shaft, a fist full of thick fingers bunched his jacket lapel and yanked him to his knees. “Can’t you hear? Strip.”
Jake eased his jacket off his shoulders and yanked at the knot on his tie. Shirtless, he rose to his feet and dropped his pants. He slipped out of his shoes and socks. Despite the cool night air, sweat pooled under his arms and down his back.
“Hands behind your head. Lock your fingers.”
From the shadows, someone marveled at his physique.
Then the low-life who’d ridden in the passenger seat stepped in front of him again. “Stand still and try not to enjoy this.” He shoved his hand between Jake’s legs, feeling his groin and backside over his boxers. He eyed Jake after he frisked him. “That’s a nice watch. Give it to me.”
“Fuck off.”
The punch to his midsection forced the air from Jake’s lungs and he doubled over. The goon wrenched his arm up, unsnapped the watch from Jake’s wrist and dropped it in his jacket pocket. Could this night get any worse? Jake prayed his colleagues already were searching for him. They had to be.
The goon shoved his shoulder. “Straighten up. Hands behind your head, fingers laced.” After Jake resumed the stance he shoved him between the shoulder blades “C’mon, pretty boy. Your woman’s waiting.”
Mackenna was here? Son of a bitch. This was about more than Cabacolli making Jake disappear. Were they going to murder her too? Courtney would track Jake’s trail to hell and back. Demond was hot to find Mackenna and he wouldn’t rest until he closed his case. Jake knew those facts as well as he knew his own name. Courtney and Demond would make Vinny pay. It was little consolation.
Flanked by Vinny’s lackeys, Jake walked with them thankfully out of the spotlight’s glare and through a door into an abandoned storehouse. He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust to the shadows and they fell on Mackenna against the back wall, in her bra and panties, her hands tied to a rope thrown over a rafter and drawn tight, forcing her to dangle on her tiptoes.
With no regard for his safety he strode to her, ignoring the minion behind him who ordered him to stop. Even when a gun cocked and a bullet slid into the chamber, Jake advanced on Mackenna. She clenched her jaw as he approached and fear filled her tear-rimmed eyes. He embraced her face with his hands, studying it, searching for some sign of understanding. Maybe even forgiveness. At that moment he knew true love and absolute heartbreak. He couldn’t live without this woman in his life. Wouldn’t want to. And he was responsible for all the pain and terror she’d endured. How would she ever forgive him? How could she love him back?
He eased his thumb over her swollen mouth and cheek and he kissed her gently.
He stared intently into her eyes. “Did he touch you?” It was scarcely a whisper, murmured so the brutes standing behind them couldn’t hear. She was smart enough to barely shake her head no. Relief flooded through him. If Vinny had raped her, the oath he’d taken as a federal agent would mean nothing. He’d honest-to-God slaughter the bastard.
Without moving his head, Jake raised his eyes and assessed the rope that tied her hands, noting the cuts, bruises, and dried blood streaking her right arm. His stomach soured seeing the dark-red lines on her fair skin. The rope was thin, like a cord used for a clothesline. That was good.
He took one step back and let his eyes survey the length of her body but he didn’t see any other marks or bruises. He moved in closer and cupped her face again. “I’ll get you out of here. Believe that, okay?”
A sob escaped her chest, slicing his heart in two. He was responsible for this abuse. All of this was his fault. Her lips quivered as tears flowed down her cheeks and he kissed her again before whispering, “I love you, Kenna. Always remember that.”
Her eyes softened and she seemed about to speak when loud, leisurely applause cut through the silence. Jake pivoted to find Vinny standing between two oversized men, clapping his hands slowly. The two cronies who escorted Jake into the building were gone.
Three to one. Jake liked the odds. He stepped in front of Mackenna, shielding her from Vinny’s lecherous eyes.
“That’s touching, Jake. A side of you I haven’t seen. I’m sure Misty will be jealous.”
“Let her go, Vinny. This is between me and you.”
Vinny shrugged. “Maybe. But she’s your soft spot, your weakness. That gives me the advantage.”
Jakes shook his head. “You’re wrong. She’s a great piece of ass, I’ll give you that. But nothing more.” It killed him to say that. She had to know what he was doing. She was a smart woman. By now, she’d figured it out.
Vinny laughed. “Oh yeah? She means nothing to you? Then you won’t mind if I spend some intimate time with her.”
Jake stepped forward, waving his hand in the air like a gracious host. “Help yourself.” He continued his slow advance toward the trio. “Would you like me to tell you what makes her crazy? Where her erogenous spots are? She screams like a wild woman if you do it right.”
All three men leered at Mackenna. Perhaps they thought Jake in his underwear wasn’t a threat. Their mistake.
Vinny nudged the man on his left. “Cut her down.” The lackey eased a hunting knife from its case tethered to his leg and licked his lips as he started toward Mackenna. “Mind if I cop a feel, boss?”
When he was a half-foot away, Jake launched himself toward the man, startling him and knocking him off balance. They fell to the floor in tandem and Jake grabbed him by the lapels and immediately propped him up into a human shield as his buddy aimed and opened fire, spraying bullets everywhere. Three of them found their target in the man’s back and blood spewed out of his mouth onto Jake’s neck and chest. Behind him, Mackenna screamed, and he prayed she hadn’t been hit.
The body became dead weight, heavy enough to throw Jake off balance. He toppled over onto his back but clung to the man’s lapels, dragging the body on top of him like a blanket. Jake felt the bulge of a shoulder holster under the man’s jacket and he reached inside and freed the gun. Using the poor bastard as body armor Jake fired, his sharpshooting skills finely honed. The bullet pierced the shooter’s brain and he dropped to the floor. Jake searched the room for anyone else aiming a weapon at him but he saw no one, including Vinny. During the melee, Vinny must have bolted out the door.
They had seconds before Vinny returned with more of his men. When Jake knocked the first man over, the knife in his hand flew across the floor. Jake scrambled on his hands and knees to it and rushed to Mackenna. Terror etched her face and she gasped to catch her breath. He sliced the rope and she crumbled to the floor but time was a matter of life and death. Jake grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her to her feet. She cried hysterically and he shook her.
“Run! Now! Out that rear door. Be careful.” He shoved her hard and she fell to her hands and knees and crawled at first. Then she jumped to her feet and ran as the front door opened and more men than Jake could count rushed into the warehouse, peppering the walls with bullets. He dove to the floor and lay prone, Mackenna’s screams echoing in his ears. Had one of the bullets found her? Or had she escaped?
Red-hot pain seared through his left thigh and his right arm went numb. He managed one last thought before the warehouse went black. Kenna.