Chapter 9
She tried to pull back from the hug but realized he wasn’t letting go. So she relaxed. “I’d forgotten,” she said.
He shook his head. “I never have.” But his tone was light. He tilted his head back and looked down at her. “Just in case you think I’ve been holding a torch for you, I haven’t. I moved forward and carried on. I’ve had several really great relationships. But one doesn’t forget one’s first.” He reached up and gently flicked her nose.
She grinned at him. “Ditto.”
“Hey, you two coming in?” Warrick’s voice bordered on disgust. He stood in the doorway. “Some of us are hungry.”
Inside the house everyone worked efficiently to put away groceries except for the pack of rib steaks staring at her. Angela looked for something to go with it. “How do you want to cook the steaks? Is there a grill?”
Both men shook their heads.
“Then I’ll pan fry them,” she said. “Can I use any foodstuffs in the kitchen?”
“You’re welcome to anything here. But I doubt there’s very much.”
She nodded and went to the pantry. There she found rice and several canned goods. The rice would do for the moment. She brought it out, put it in a pan on the stove, prepped some veggies for a salad and got out a cast iron pan she found underneath the stove. By the time they sat down to the meal, she had started to relax again.
“Do you think there’s any chance he’ll find us here?” she asked.
“Slim to none,” Warrick said. “We can’t say one hundred percent because that’s not possible.”
She nodded. “I didn’t see anybody on the last leg of the trip, so hopefully we got away free and clear.”
They finished eating, did the dishes and then moved into the living room.
“I wish there was some way to move this process along,” she complained quietly. “I know it’s only been a day, but it seems like so much has happened, and yet the end result still looks to be weeks away.”
Her phone rang. The number came up in front of her, and tears came to her eyes.
“Who is that?” Corey asked. He’d been trying to keep close without crowding her since they’d come into the house. It was obvious she was under an extreme amount of stress, and the last thing he wanted was for her to break.
She raised her teary eyes to him. “It’s Joshua.”
His breath caught in the back of his throat. He glanced at Warrick, the two in agreement. “Answer it. Talk to your son,” he said gently.
Sniffling back the tears, she wiped her eyes and answered the phone. “Joshua. Hi.”
“Mommy,” Joshua wailed on the other end of the phone. “When can I see you?”
“Soon, sweetie. It will be soon.”
“Daddy says it will be never. I keep wanting to call you and meet you, but he won’t let me.”
“I know, sweetie. Mommy and Daddy have a few things to work out. Don’t you worry. I’m going to see you soon.”
Corey listened as she spoke for a few more minutes.
Then she asked suddenly, “Does Daddy know you have your phone still?”
“No, I kept it in my backpack.”
“Don’t tell him that you talked to me, okay?”
“I won’t. I shouldn’t have told him that you took something. He got really angry.”
“Don’t you worry about it, sweetie. Mommy will be fine.”
They exchanged goodbyes, and finally she hung up and sat quietly, her shoulders hunched, the phone hugged against her chest. Hearing the little boy cry for his mother had been heartbreaking. Just listening to the words he said made Corey angry.
What kind of a father would keep his son away from his mother? He knew there were cases where it was probably a good idea, but it wasn’t like Angela was into drugs or alcohol or was abusive. In this case it was the father who was abusive, and everybody else had to dance to his tune, whether they liked it or not. Sometimes life was like that, but Corey would do what he could to help her and Joshua.
She pulled her phone down and sent a text.
“Who was that to?” Warrick asked wearily.
“I told him good night and that I love him.”
She kept her head down, and he realized she was holding back the tears.
Warrick got up and went into the kitchen to put on coffee.
Corey sat down beside her and hauled her into his arms. He just held her. She cried, but it wasn’t an all-out cry-fest. It was a gentle sobbing because her heart was breaking.
He held her close, rubbing her back to let it all come out. “The situation will change. We just need a few days.”
She nodded, her cheek rubbing back and forth against his chest. “It’s just so hard.”
“And, in a few weeks, a few months, this will all blow over, and you can start to forget about it.”
She pushed herself off his chest and stared at him. “I will never forget this.”
He winked. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you’ll feel better because you’ll have Joshua in your arms, and everything will be okay again.”
“I don’t know if anything can ever be okay again,” she mumbled. “I just wanted to have a life with my son.”
He stroked the tears off her cheek with his thumb. “And you’ll get it, but we have to make sure your husband goes away for a long time. We don’t want the case thrown out of court for any reason and then find out Greg’s back on the streets within days.”
Her gaze widened in horror. “That would be the worst because he’ll just come right back after us.”
Corey nodded. “Yes, he will. So let’s make sure we nail his ass to the wall, and then you can have your life back.”
She collapsed against his chest, and he cuddled her close.
When Warrick came in a few minutes later with several cups of coffee, he placed them on the coffee table in front of them. “I’ll be working in the kitchen.”
Corey nodded. Warrick was giving them space, and he appreciated it.
“I forgot how nice you were,” she murmured against his chest.
“How does one forget how nice somebody is?”
“I don’t know,” she said, puzzled. “But I did. You were always the guy who brought me coffee or collected me instead of making me meet you somewhere. You brought me flowers for no reason and picked me up after work as a surprise. You were one of the nice people in the world.”
“I’m not so sure I am anymore. The military has taken some of that out of me.”
“No. It might have turned you into a man and given you the skills to be a fighter, but that Corey is still inside you.”
“I can’t say being nice helped me all these years.”
“I think it did. It’s hard to imagine what you’d be like if you still didn’t have that marshmallow center.”
He snorted, insulted. “I’m not a marshmallow.”
From the kitchen Warrick called out. “You absolutely are. You are sugar sweet, gummy, gummy, completely meltable on the inside.”
Angela let out a shriek of laughter. She straightened up and looked at him. “Even Warrick thinks you’re like that.”
Corey shook his head. “Warrick doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”
She grinned. “The two of you are exactly the same on the inside.”
“Hey,” Warrick yelled from the kitchen. “That’s not fair. He’s the marshmallow. I’m not.”
“You’re both marshmallows,” she said with laughter.
Corey stroked her hair off her face. At least she wasn’t crying anymore. “Do you want to stay here, or do you want to join Warrick in the kitchen?”
She gave Corey a big hug. “Warrick is working. I feel we should be working too.”
“Speak for yourself,” Corey said. “I’ve been working steadily. I can use some downtime.”
But she wasn’t having anything to do with that. She caught his hand and tried to pull him up from the couch.
He just laughed. “I outweigh you by at least one hundred pounds.”
“But only one,” she said. “Warrick outweighs me by two hundred.”
A snicker came from the kitchen. “If you’re trying to insult me, that won’t work. I’m all muscle. He’s the marshmallow.”
Laughing, Corey grabbed their coffees and walked into the kitchen. He could see Warrick working away on the spreadsheets. “You figure that out yet?”
“No, not yet, but I figured, if we’ve already got one dead man, maybe we should contact some of these other people. Make sure they don’t end up the same way.”
“Aren’t the police doing that?” Angela asked.
Warrick glanced at her. “Well, they might be, but how fast will they do it? According to the detective on the case, he’s identified a couple of these men. But I think this one I know.” He tapped the screen.
*
Corey walked around to look at the man handing over what looked like packets of money. Something else was coming his way, but Corey wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Maybe Warrick could blow that part up.
“Where do you think you know him from?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t remember, but that haircut makes me think he’s military.”
Corey leaned closer. “Holy crap, that’s not Captain Jackson, is it?”
Warrick looked again and smiled. “It is. Damn, I knew that face was familiar.”
“What the hell? Send this to Mason. See what he’s got to say.”
Warrick clicked a few buttons on the keyboard and sent an email off to Mason. Then Warrick sent a text. Corey refilled their coffee cups, sat down, wishing they’d picked up dessert. Then remembered the chips. He helped himself, emptying the bag into a bowl, placing it on the kitchen table. Then made up the dip they bought the ingredients for. Just as he sat back down again, Warrick’s phone rang. “Hey, Mason.”
Listening to Warrick’s half of the conversation, Corey understood Mason would approach the captain himself. They’d been buddies for a long time.
When Warrick got off the phone, he said, “Mason will contact the detective, and then he’ll contact Captain Jackson. But the police already have this photo, so, if some shit is going down, the captain could get caught in the middle of it.” Warrick shared a look with Corey and Angela. “The police may get pissed at us for getting involved.”
The two men leaned forward to study the photo. Warrick put it into a photo imaging editor so he could enlarge it without losing too much of the clarity. They studied it some more, and Corey said, “Drugs?”
“Potentially, yeah. White packets. Heroin? Cocaine? No way to know.”
“It’ll be the end of the captain’s career if this gets out.”
“Look at that photo. He’s not in uniform, and it looks like it was taken quite a few years ago,” Warrick said quietly. “I don’t know if he’s paid Greg to keep this silent or if potentially Angela’s husband is just hanging on to this type of information for when he might need it in the future.”
“I’d say possibly both, depending on the circumstances,” Angela said from across the table. “He used to laugh and say, that’s worth keeping. And he’d tuck what he had away.”
“So, if the police were to serve Greg with a search warrant on the property, do you think they’d find much?”
Her eyes went large and round. She nodded. “And, if they do that, they need to look in the safes behind the two pictures in his office. There’s one behind each, but one is even more hidden because there’s like a breaker box front panel, but behind that is a safe.”
The two men looked at her with respect. “You know that for sure?”
She nodded. “I do. I also know he keeps stuff stashed in the upstairs hall. If you take the electrical plug out and reach your hand inside, something is taped inside the wall.”
At this the men leaned forward. “How do you know that?”
“That’s the problem when people think you’re completely cowed, that you have absolutely no mind or life of your own. You become invisible. I remember seeing Greg, crouched in the hall, putting something in there.” She held up her hands, approximating the size. “It was small, like about two inches by two inches, and it was taped on all four sides. He pressed it against the inside of the wall, put the cover plate back on with a screwdriver, got up and walked away.”
“Could you hazard a guess as to what you saw him put in there?”
She shrugged. “If I had to say, it could have been one of those little flash drives, a memory stick.”
“That is excellent,” Warrick said warmly. “I don’t know what it will take to get a warrant served on the house, but at the very least they’ll have some idea what they’re looking for, and they’ll have a much better chance of finding it. Any evidence we can seize will help us nail him on these charges.”
“More important,” Corey said, “anything he thinks is worth hiding is something I really want to know about.”