LIES OF THE PHOENIX (A Lieutenant Cassidy Mystery Book 1) (13 page)

BOOK: LIES OF THE PHOENIX (A Lieutenant Cassidy Mystery Book 1)
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Chapter 16

H
E WAS SITTING
on a hard kitchen chair in the tiny apartment that he had sublet. His breaths were coming in gasps and a trickle of blood tracked down from the corner of his mouth. Another crushing blow slammed into his face and sent him sprawling to the floor. As he writhed in pain, the person responsible landed another blow with a kick to his midsection.

“You worthless piece of shit! Get up! You had one thing to do and you couldn’t even get that right. Or maybe you were thinking you could cut your own deal with him and get away with it!” He kicked the writhing figure again to punctuate his words. “Tell me where he is.”

Kyle Mason groaned in pain and tried to get up on his knees. His tormentor kicked him again and then sat down on one of the upright kitchen chairs.

Kyle let out another groan and managed to crawl to his hands and knees. He inched his was to the table and pulled himself slowly into one of the chairs. His left eye was swollen shut, his lip was split and bleeding, and two teeth felt loose when he ran his tongue over them. The inside of his mouth felt like raw meat and he tasted the metallic tang of blood. He felt the urge to vomit, but thought better of it.

“I can explain, just listen to me.”

“I don’t want to hear your shit explanations. You knew the deal and what would happen if you didn’t deliver. Now I have to try to clean up your mess. If Zykov had been successful, there wouldn’t be this problem. You would be dead by now. His orders were to clean up all the loose ends and that’s what you are.”

Hector Bazarov was a high ranking L.A. syndicate enforcer. He was trusted by his criminal betters and was as lethal as a cobra. He was
old school
and loyal to a fault. When there was a botched job, they would send Bazarov to clean things up. He was a bull and could intimidate by his mere presence. His face was square and full with a nose that attested to having been broken several times. He was taller than average, with a short neck, massive arms and a barrel chest leaving no doubt that he could back up his words with power. And he was smart. Most of his criminal associates were no match for his guile and cunning.

The Potestas crime syndicate of Los Angeles was a formidable organization. It wasn’t a family, but a group of nefarious elements that had joined forces for mutual gain. Their name was the Latin word for “power” and was meant to intimidate. Their collective resources were immense and any interference with their business was considered a death sentence. They routinely used independent enforcers to eliminate obstacles in their path. These freelance assassins had no connection to the syndicate making it hard for law enforcement to trace a trail back to the organization.

“You’re going to tell me where he is.” Bazarov’s fist hit the table with the force of a sledge hammer and the table jumped sideways a half a foot.

Kyle swallowed hard. He was trying to keep a grip on things, but he was in over his head. Bazarov’s appearance meant that the L.A. crime syndicate had lost patience with his scheme. He had to think of something to appease Bazarov and to buy himself some time.

He tried to clear his dizzy head and think. “I, uh, don’t know where he is right now, but I know where his wife is.” He hesitated a second, fearful that his words would cause Bazarov to unleash another series blows. Bazarov sat quietly with cold dead eyes fixed on Kyle. He looked like a coiled cobra ready to strike.

“She’s the key.” Kyle continued. “He’ll contact her. She trusts me. If I stay close to her, I’ll find him. I can get what you want. You just have to give me some more time.”

Kyle had worked with Lloyd Nash, now calling himself Jordan Lawrence, for several years in L.A. He had discovered what Jordan was doing and knew the value of what he had acquired. He wanted in on the deal, but Jordan had kept him at arm’s length saying it was too dangerous.

Nash’s syndicate partners were not happy when he disappeared from Los Angeles. They turned over every rock in L.A. looking for him and stumbled upon Kyle Mason. It was at that point that Kyle saw his chance to cash in on Jordan’s criminal efforts. Kyle flattered himself into believing that he was smarter and more cunning than both the L.A. syndicate and Jordan. He hatched a plan to play both sides of the fence that would provide him with a double financial reward.

Kyle boasted about his experience in wheeling and dealing on the international investment market and offered his services to the Potestas organization. He said he could find Jordan and, for a fee, could bring back what they wanted. In reality, his goal was to take the syndicate’s money and then cash in on the lucrative international business deal that he was sure Jordan was trying to put together. With the L.A. mob breathing down Jordan’s neck and Kyle’s added threat to turn him in to the authorities, Kyle felt he held all the cards. He was sure Jordan would agree to divide up the purse and they could both disappear into a rich new life.

Kyle received the go-ahead from the L.A. organization and was provided a portion of his fee and a generous amount for expenses. He was promised the remainder of his finder’s fee upon fulfillment of his contract, but was warned that failure was not an option.

Tracking Jordan down proved fairly simple for Kyle. Over the years Jordan had mentioned that the easiest way to disappear would be to go to a big city, establish an average Joe identity, and just blend in. Jordan had mentioned that early in his career he had some connections in Chicago. Given Jordan’s financial background, Chicago’s financial center was the logical big city choice.

Kyle took himself to Chicago. He knew that Jordan would have to establish a new identity and the first way to do that would be with a driver’s license. After a short search, he found a lonely female file clerk in Chicago’s DMV office. A couple of dinners and a few cheap gifts later she was in love and he was afforded access to all the new driver license applicants’ photos issued in Chicago during the month after Jordan left L.A. It was easy to scan through the photos of new male applicants until he came across the smiling face of Lloyd Nash, now using the alias of Jordan Lawrence. He had successfully found Jordan, but his plan to manipulate him had not worked out as well.

Jordan was stunned when Kyle came knocking on the door of Sarah’s townhouse. Kyle threatened to expose his identity and location to the L.A. crime bosses if he wasn’t cut in on the Jordan’s international deal. He backed up his demand with threats of going to the police if Jordan failed to cooperate.

Kyle appealed to Jordan’s business side as well. He bargained by saying he could keep the syndicate wolves at bay while Jordan negotiated his best deal on the international market. He argued that the international sale of the data Jordan possessed would generate more than enough money for the both of them. They could escape the entanglements of organized crime and just disappear financially set for life. In the end, Kyle believed that he had won Jordan over.

Everything with the transaction seemed to be moving along well. Kyle fed tidbits of information back to L.A. to keep them satisfied that he had things in hand. He told them he had found Lloyd Nash, but needed time to acquire the stolen item. He cautioned that moving too fast could cause Nash to destroy the prize and bolt. Despite the short delay, he promised to have what they wanted shortly.

In reality he was waiting for the big payoff Jordan was sure to arrange on the world market. Jordan in typical fashion, however, had orchestrated an all-out international bidding war and the transaction was dragging on day after day as the bids escalated. Kyle had pushed Jordan to close the deal, but Jordan resisted saying he wanted top dollar and that it would benefit them both.

L.A. was pressuring Kyle for results and threatening action. Then, without warning, there was the townhouse break-in and Zykov was dead. The Los Angeles syndicate had grown tired of waiting. Things began to unravel.

News of Zykov’s death took some time to leak back to the L.A. syndicate. When it did, Kyle was forced to try to smooth things over with Zykov’s handlers. He told them that sending Zykov had interjected unforeseen delays in obtaining what they wanted now that the police were involved. Kyle promised he would complete his assignment as soon as things settled down and the police lost interest. He thought he had convinced the syndicate that everything was back under his control and on track.

What Kyle couldn’t do, however, was get Jordan to stop playing the market and make the sale. Things were stretching out too long. Kyle was fearful that he could not hold off the Los Angeles boys much longer. He was irritated with Jordan and his high stakes wheeling and dealing. He wanted Jordan to choose the highest bidder and close the deal, but Jordan resisted.

Kyle added pressure by saying that L.A. was getting ready to send another hired gun to Chicago and they would both be targets. The new threat did not have the desired effect. Instead the threat materialized and Jordan went on-the-run. Kyle was left empty handed and in a panic. He would be forced to face the wrath of the syndicate alone and have nothing with which to bargain for his own life.

In desperation, Kyle tried to get closer to Sarah Lawrence. He hoped that Jordan had left some clue with her, but so far that had been a dead end. He had torn their townhouse apart, but Jordan had left nothing to incriminate himself or to reveal where he was hiding. Kyle had run out of time. As he looked at Bazarov’s cold expressionless face the desperation of his situation began to set in.

“I just need a little more time.” His injuries made it painful to even form the words. Kyle doubted that this powerful hulk had enough intellect to even listen to reason, but he had to try. It was the only option open to him. “It’s complicated. I won him over and almost had it. Then Zykov showed up and ruined everything. Police are all over that place now. You can’t blame that on me. I told them he was too smart for that strong arm stuff. They should have left it to me. Now it’s going to take a little more time. Things need time to settle down.”

“Yeah. A little more time. That’s just what you’re going to get.”

Bazarov reached into his pocket and pulled out a length of cord. In one motion he pulled Kyle to his feet and lashed Kyle’s hands behind his back. He pushed Kyle through the door to the outside and walked him to the rear of a dark late model sedan parked in the alley. Bazarov fingered his key fob and the trunk lid popped open. Kyle looked at the gapping trunk and cold sweat ran down his back.

“You can’t be serious. I’m not getting in there. I have this handled. Aren’t you listening to me? I—”

One of Bazarov’s giant fists collided like a freight train with Kyle’s jaw. Kyle collapsed limply into the trunk with his feet hanging out. Bazarov reached down and tied a cord around his feet then pushed them inside the trunk and closed the lid. He lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs and then causally walked around to the driver’s side. He climbed in and drove away.

Chapter 17

B
EN WAS CONCENTRATING
on the traffic as he drove through downtown and wound his way through the streets to the corporate apartment where Sarah planned to stay. It would have to do for tonight. He didn’t have a better alternative to offer. Once the furniture arrived for his apartment tomorrow though, he would try to convince her to stay at his place.

Sarah broke the silence, “This apartment that my company keeps isn’t very big, but it’s comfortable. I’m the one that does the scheduling for use by clients. It should work out fine.”

“I’m sure it’s nice, but I don’t think you should be there by yourself. I’m going to take you up there and have a look around. We’ll go to dinner and I plan on hanging around until you throw me out.”

“You have too many of your crime stories on the brain. This place is safe. The doorman checks every person that comes through the door. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Humph,” was his only answer.

“I wouldn’t mind some company, though.” She was sincere about that. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts right now.

“Are you inviting me to stay?”

Sarah flushed, “I meant stay for a while this evening.”

“You know, I would be happy with the sofa if you change your mind. I’d be willing to observe whatever rules you want. I’m worried about you staying there alone.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think it is necessary.” Sarah then changed the subject and they continued downtown.

They parked in a parking garage adjacent to the building where the apartment was located. As they approached the front of the building a doorman immediately recognized Sarah and rushed out to assist with her bags.

“Hi, Stan,” Sarah said. “I’m going to be staying at the apartment for a while. This is Ben Taggert. It’s O.K. to send him up if he stops by. No one else, though, O.K.?”

“Sure, Mrs. Lawrence. Whatever you say,” Stan answered.

Ben pulled Stan aside out of Sarah’s hearing. She could see him telling Stan something and Stan nodding in agreement. Ben then returned to where she was standing and picked up the bags.

“What were you telling Stan?” She was a little annoyed that she had been left out of the conversation.

“Nothing much. I told him I could handle the bags and he didn’t need to see us upstairs.”

“You talked longer than that. What else did you say to him?” She knew there was more.

“I told him to look out for any strangers making inquiries about you, not to give out any information, and to let us know if anyone does ask about you.”

“I guess that’s probably wise.” Although she doubted it was necessary.

They took the elevator to the fourth floor and arrived at the apartment. Sarah unlocked the door and started to go in, but Ben stopped her and went in first. He did a quick look though all the rooms and then announced it was O.K. for her to enter.

Once a cop, always a cop,
she thought.

He put the bags in the bedroom and then familiarized himself with the apartment. Key lock and deadbolt on the door along with a peep hole—
good
. Bedroom and living room windows locked, no fire escape access to the windows—
good.
He walked out into the hallway. There were three other apartment doors that had access to the hallway and a door to the stairwell. He checked the stairwell door and frowned. It could be opened from both the hallway and inside the stairwell. He would have preferred one-way access only from the hallway into the stairwell. He walked back to the apartment and walked in.

“You need to keep this door locked all the time. Someone could come up the elevator or stairs,” he said.

“The doorman is there. He would stop any strangers from coming in.”

“It only takes a moment of distraction for someone to slip by. Stan could be out at the curb assisting someone with packages or showing someone to their apartment. Anyone could walk in. Someone could be armed and then it wouldn’t matter if there was a doorman or not.”

“Alright, I surrender. I’ll keep the door locked.”

“Do you know the other tenants on the floor?”

“These are all corporate apartments on this floor and the next one up.” She could tell by the look on Ben’s face that he was waiting for more of an answer than that. “The building was looking for tenants a few years back and put together a very attractive package for corporations looking for a place to put up extended stay guests. They rolled the rental rate in with a furniture package and a cleaning service. It was a very economical alternative to standard hotel charges for long term stays.”

“So what you are saying is that you wouldn’t be able to tell if someone belonged on this floor or not, right?”

“Well, I guess that’s true. Sometimes the units are occupied and sometimes they are vacant for months. The corporate guests change all the time.”

Ben disliked this arrangement more and more. At least it was a place off her typical daily routine and it distanced her from Ruth’s family. He would keep trying to wear her down. Maybe she would relent and let him stay the night.

“My stomach has been growling for the last hour,” Ben said. “How do you feel about going to get something to eat?”

Sarah hadn’t noticed how late it was. “O.K., but I should give Ruth a call first. She will have a panic attack if I don’t.” She made the phone call and then was ready to leave.

They made their way to a small restaurant not far from the apartment and had a quiet dinner. Ben watched her as she ate. His eyes moved across the soft contours of her face and the sleek curves of her hair. He was starting to feel very comfortable with her, and it surprised him.

He hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time—he hadn’t had time. His writing career had become more lucrative than even he could have imagined, but it left him little time for anything else. He also had to admit that he might have been avoiding social opportunities because he had no desire to complicate his life with emotional entanglements.

Ever since he had met Sarah a conflict had been roiling inside him. He felt a surprising connection the night of the play, but pushed it aside knowing she was married. When Jordan disappeared, he felt compelled to step into the unfolding pandemonium of her life, and he didn’t know why. With the latest break-in at her townhouse, one part of him wanted to take control and spirit her out of town to somewhere safe until the police investigation ran its course and another inner voice told him that he had no right to intrude uninvited into her private life. Tonight the internal conflict was over. He wanted to be with her and wasn’t leaving. He would do everything he could to keep her safe.

They finished dinner and walked back toward the corporate apartment. Sarah stopped at a small convenience store sandwiched between two office buildings and bought a few groceries and some toiletries. They arrived at the apartment building and as they started to enter, Ben stopped and turned suddenly staring down the street. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a male figure slip around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked. She backed up and looked in the same direction, but could see nothing.

“I just caught a glimpse of someone going around the corner. I thought he may have been following us. I’m not sure. It might just have been just someone walking on the street.”

“There’s a lot of foot traffic around here. It was probably nothing.”

Sarah said hello to Stan who was still manning the reception desk in the building. She pushed the button for the elevator. She had to admit to herself that she was a little on edge with everything that had happened and was glad that Ben was at her side as she went up to the apartment.

Inside the elevator Ben said, “Let me have your key.”

“But you’re carrying all the bags. I can take care of the door.”

Ben didn’t say anything. He just gave her a stern look and held out his hand.

“You’re getting as bad as Ruth. She thinks she’s my mother sometimes.” She handed him the key with an exaggerated scowl on her face.

“You can believe me when I say I have no desire to be your mother.” He gave her a sly smile and then slipped the key into the door lock. His tone then became serious, “Let me just do a quick check to make sure everything is alright.”

He went in and quickly moved through the three room apartment. Nothing was disturbed. He motioned for her to come in and then quickly closed and locked the door behind her.

Sarah put away the few grocery items she had purchased and Ben made himself comfortable on the sofa. He noted with satisfaction it opened into an extra bed.

“Would you like some coffee? I have some packaged brownies we could have for dessert.”

“Sounds good to me, do you need any help?”

“No, I think I can manage this. The kitchen is too small for two people to move around in anyway.”

She brewed the coffee and arranged the brownies on a plate she found in the cupboard. She assembled everything on a tray she found in another cupboard and carried it out to the living room. She set it on the coffee table and handed Ben a napkin.

“There, just like home,” she said.

“Not like my home,” he said in a sincere tone. “There’s no one there serving me fresh brewed coffee and treats. This is the next best thing to heaven.” He picked up his coffee in one hand and a chocolate brownie in the other. He took a big bite of the brownie and then gave her an expression of approval.

Sarah laughed, “I’ve bought them before so I knew they would pass muster.” She hadn’t laughed in a while. It felt good.

They spent the rest of the evening just talking. Sarah asked Ben about his time with the police force and about his writing career. She was surprised to hear that he had written several books in addition to all the freelance work he did for magazines. From the sound of it, he was quite successful. She told him about growing up in Chicago and her job in advertising, but she felt it was all pretty mundane compared to his story.

Sarah glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that they had been talking for several hours. It was getting late and she planned to go to work in the morning, despite Ruth’s pleading to take some time off.

“Maybe we should wind things up. It’s getting late and I have to get up for work in the morning,” she said.

“You can go to bed. I’ll be fine right here.” He patted the sofa with his hand.

“No. You are going to leave. I’ll be fine. I can’t get into too much trouble behind a locked door.”

“I think I should stay and I don’t think you should go to your office tomorrow. It’s too predictable.”

“Nonsense! I
am
going to work tomorrow and you are going back to Ruth’s house tonight. Now get yourself moving so I can get ready for bed.” She pointed to the door.

Ben stood up slowly and walked over to her. “I’m serious. This is not a good idea.”

“I’m not going to change my mind. We can get together tomorrow after work if you like. You have your apartment to get organized tomorrow and I have a ton of things to do at my office. I’ll call you when I’m done. We can go to dinner.”

With grave misgivings he accepted her decision. “Call me when you get up so I know you’re alright. I’ll come and take you to work.”

“No, I can walk to work from here. Sleep in and enjoy your morning.” She gently pushed him in the direction of the door.

Ben stopped and turned toward her. He looked down into her face and said softly. “You know, you should listen to me. I know what I am talking about.” Their eyes locked and then he leaned down and kissed her. He opened the door and started out, but then turned back and said, “And I
will
be back here in the morning to take you to work. Call me.”

Sarah watched as he made his way down the hallway to the elevator.

At the elevator Ben turned, “Go inside and lock the door. Don’t open it until you see me in the morning.”

Sarah slipped back inside the apartment and locked the door as Ben instructed. She sat down on the couch trying to sort out what had just happened. Her emotions were in turmoil. She was still trying to get her head around the fact that her relationship with Jordan had been nothing but a lie.

She liked Ben—maybe even more than that. But after everything she had been through in the last few weeks, she wasn’t sure how she felt about anything. It was too much to think about right now, but she was glad about one thing—he would be back in the morning.

She went into the bedroom and put on her night clothes. She was more tired than she had thought. She finished in the bathroom, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed. The silence and darkness enveloped her and drew her in as she drifted off to sleep.

Images floated through her dreams—her devastated townhouse, Brandon and Kate running through Ruth’s kitchen, Jordan’s face, a body lying on her living room floor, Ben’s kiss. She awoke and looked at the clock. It was 2:30 a.m.

In the quiet darkness she turned on her back and leaned against the pillow. She was thinking about that last image when she heard a faint clicking sound coming from the living room. She sat up with a start and her heart began to race. She eased herself out of bed in the darkness and moved slowly towards the living room. She could see a crack of light coming from under the apartment door from the hallway. She moved closer to the door and stood silently as she listened. The locked handle of the door moved slightly back and forth as if someone was trying to open it.

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