Annie on the Lam: A Christmas Caper (21 page)

“But they all three worked for you.”

“I thought they were good matches. And good men.” Her father scowled and shook his head. “I couldn't have been more wrong about Lance. I suppose two out of three picks isn't bad.” He sent her a self-deprecating smile.

“But Aunt Tawney said—”

“Tawney?” His scowl returned. “Did she put that idea in your head? She's been assuming things and speaking for me since we were kids.” He leaned over and hugged her, sat back. “I believe in learning a business from the ground up, no matter who you are. But you're ready, Annie. And I'm ready to slow down a little and let you take over some—”

“I don't want that anymore,” Annie interrupted.

Her father watched her for a moment, then asked, “Does your change of heart have something to do with Brady? Honey…” He cleared his throat. “I'm not sure Joe Brady is someone you should—”

“Daddy.” Annie scowled at him.

“I was just going to say,” he quickly interjected, “that when I found out you'd taken off on the road together, I was worried. I never meant for anything like that to happen when I hired him. So I called the chief of police in New York City and after I explained the situation, he said Brady became something of a loose cannon toward the end of his time on the force. There are a lot of unanswered questions surrounding him. His negligence might've caused a woman he was supposed to be guarding—”

“Joe told me all about that.”

“He did?”

“There was an inquiry and Joe wasn't found guilty of anything.” Annie stood and began pacing the kitchen, thinking about her father's call to the police chief. “You didn't happen to mention to the chief where Joe and I were headed, did you?”

“I might've. Why?” Suddenly, his face fell. “You don't think…?”

Annie went cold. Could someone else at the station have listened in on the conversation? Or might the chief have unknowingly mentioned it to someone? The chief might've even been working with Harry. Any of those possibilities would explain how Willis and Prine had known where to find them. Someone within the police force ranks had told them. And if that were true, it meant others in the department were involved with Harry Landau and Frank Reno, as well.

The phone rang. Her father quickly rose to answer it.

Annie listened to him tell the caller that Joe was headed back to the city. Catching his attention, she whispered, “Who is that?”

He covered the mouthpiece and answered, “His name is O'Malley. He says Brady left messages for him to call this number.”

Steve O'Malley. Joe's ex-partner. A man Joe trusted like a brother. “Let me talk to him,” Annie said.

Her father handed her the phone, and she introduced herself. “Joe should be home soon,” she said to O'Malley. “Keep trying his apartment. He's anxious to talk to you.” She drew a breath. “There's something I just found out that he needs to know.”

“Okay, I—” O'Malley sneezed. “Excuse me. I can't seem to get rid of this cold.” He chuckled. “What kind of trouble has Joe gotten himself into this time?”

A chill raced up Annie's spine at the sound of O'Malley's voice, his laughter. She had heard them before. While hiding in the closet in Harry's office.

“Miss Macy? Are you there?”

Annie's stomach turned upside down. She drew a breath to steady her nerves. “Yes, I'm sorry. Something just came up and I have to go. Joe will explain everything.” They exchanged goodbyes and Annie broke the connection.

“Honey, are you okay?” her father asked.

“I have to get a message to Joe.”

“Didn't you just ask Detective O'Malley to do that?”

Annie punched in the number for long distance information. When directory assistance answered, she asked for Joe's home number, then tried it. “Oh, no.” She glanced across at her father. “It's disconnected.” She remembered the night at his apartment, Joe at his kitchen counter, shuffling through a stack of mail, commenting on the overdue bill, his muttered reminder to himself to pay it.

“Can't you call his cell phone?”

“It's dead. Besides, I don't know the number.” Annie felt light-headed as she asked, “Can you fly us out of here today?”

“I don't see why not. What's going on?”

Annie reached for the phone book on the counter. “I'll explain on the way. Maybe Coleman or Nate can pick us up and take us to the airstrip. Then if I could just remember the name of the man Joe sent his mom to stay with, I could call her and ask how to get in touch with his cousin.” Annie's mind raced as she looked for Coleman's number in the book. “The man she's staying with is a family friend, an ex-cop Joe's dad used to work with. Ed something.”

Her father's brows shot up. “Simms?”

“That's it. How did you know?”

“He's the retired investigator who referred me to Brady, remember? I have his number in my cell phone.”

Relief rushed through Annie. “Call him,” she said, then punched in Coleman's number.

The
roads and visibility between Pinesborough and the city had cleared since Joe and Annie traveled the route together. He made it home in record time.

Mac greeted him the instant he stepped into his apartment. “
Just you and me tonight, pal
,” the parrot squawked.

“Looks like it might be just you and me forever, Mac.” Joe exhaled a weary breath. “Damn that Dino. I thought I told him to pick you up.”

He could see that his cousin had at least stopped by to give the parrot food and water. “Did you bad-mouth Dino, Mac? Is that why he left you to fend for yourself?”

Anxious to get in touch with O'Malley and tell him about the information on Landau's flash drive, Joe headed for the telephone. He was beginning to think Dino was on the right track when he had asked if Willis might be connected to the Emma Billings attack. But Joe hadn't yet sorted out in his mind how Willis might've pulled it off and wanted to hear O'Malley's take on that, since his partner had been there that night, as well.

When he didn't get a dial tone, Joe slammed down the telephone and cursed. He guessed he should be thankful the electricity and gas were still on, though he knew at any second those might go, too.

Joe walked across the hallway to his neighbor's apartment. Mrs. Bailey always seemed glad to help out in a crisis and today was no exception. Joe used her phone to try O'Malley and finally got an answer.

“Hey, Steve. It's me. You get my messages?”

“We just got home last night and I haven't had time to check 'em. What's up?”

“Can you break away for a while? I need to talk to you and I'd rather not do it over the phone. It's about the Billings incident. And a whole lot more.”

“I'll be right over.” O'Malley paused, then asked, “Are you okay?”

It occurred to Joe that if not for the sorry state of his relationship with Annie, his life would be just about perfect right now. The puzzle he had been trying for the past year to piece together was finally connecting. “I'm good,” he said. “But if everything works out like I hope it does, I'm going to be a whole lot better than good real soon.”

 

A
NNIE COULDN'T SIT STILL
. The flight had gone without a hitch. She had never liked flying in small planes, but she was too nervous over Joe walking into a trap to worry about anything else.

After landing, they'd taken a cab. She gripped the seat now, her heart pounding. Traffic was even worse than usual. “What day is it?” she asked her father. “I've lost track.”

“December twenty-second.”

She sat back. “With all that's been happening, I forgot about Christmas.”

“You'll come home for the holiday, won't you?”

She thought of Joe and wondered how she would handle it if he got hurt, or worse. “We'll see,” she said, turning to stare out the window.

Her father's hand covered hers. “He'll be okay. We made good time.”

“And now we're losing it.” She leaned forward and said to the driver, “Can't you move a little faster? It's an emergency.”

“I'm doing my best, lady.” The cabbie laid on the horn and cursed.

Annie sat back and prayed that Dino made it to Joe before O'Malley did.

 

“O
NE THING STILL CONFUSES ME
,” Joe said to O'Malley. He turned on the computer in his living room, then returned to the kitchen while it booted up. “I think the attack on Emma Billings wasn't only intended to scare her not to testify, I think it was meant to shut me up, too. To get my badge lifted so I wouldn't dig deeper into the missing dope and money. If Willis did the deed and somehow got into the apartment while you two were out taking that walk, why weren't there any signs of the break-in? He didn't have a key.”

Joe's mind drifted to that night. They split three shifts—he and O'Malley and Clayton Jones. Jones, having the most seniority, took 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., O'Malley had four to midnight, and Joe covered midnight to 8:00 a.m. There had been a light on in Emma Billings' bedroom when Joe arrived to take over. He and O'Malley saw it glowing beneath her door, heard soft music playing and her moving about the room.

As he always did if they knew she was awake, O'Malley had knocked to tell her the shift was changing. She was antsy about being guarded and had made it clear from the beginning that she wanted to be kept abreast of everything.

Miss Billings had answered O'Malley's knock by opening the door. Joe saw her from the next room and called out to greet her. Then O'Malley had left, and the next time Joe saw Emma Billings, she was a basket case and he had a bump on his head the size of a Manhattan high-rise.

Joe took O'Malley's empty coffee mug when he passed by the bar stool where his partner sat at the kitchen counter. With his back to O'Malley, he stood at the stove and poured a refill. “So what do you think, Steve? Any ideas?”

“I have a couple.”

Joe sat the coffeepot down. “Oh, yeah? Shoot.” He turned.

O'Malley stood at the other side of the counter, his revolver aimed at Joe, the muscle along his jawline jumping, his body trembling.

“On second thought, don't shoot,” Joe said, trying to hold the coffee mug steady.

“Set the cup on the stove behind you,” O'Malley said, his voice faltering.

Joe reached back and did as he was told. He felt sick and shocked and disappointed. Worried about O'Malley. Even more worried about himself.

“You should've butted out,” Steve said. “I didn't want this to happen.”

“Why me, Steve?”

“It was Willis's idea. He was wary of you from the start. He knew you'd worked undercover more than once to take down cops.”

“Dirty cops,” Joe corrected. “I didn't target anyone who didn't deserve it.”

“You don't go after your own, Joe. You've said it yourself a hundred times. We're family. When you started sniffing around and reporting missing drugs from some of the busts, missing cash, that was it as far as Willis was concerned.”

“I can't take down a bad cop, but the two of you can ruin a good one. Am I getting this straight, Steve?”

“I didn't want to do it, but by that time I was in too deep to dig my way out.” O'Malley's face twisted. “It was either you or me. I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry?” Joe made a sound of disbelief. “I don't understand how someone like you…” He shook his head. “I considered you a brother.”

“Cathy was sick, you know that. I wanted the best for her. The best doctors, the best hospitals. The best doesn't come cheap.”

Joe thought of O'Malley's wife, a once vital woman now ravaged by cancer. An honest woman. If her disease didn't kill her, finding out about this would.

O'Malley's revolver shook harder. “I didn't know Willis was going to hurt Emma Billings. I swear it, Joe. He was just supposed to threaten her, shake her up a little, explain what might happen if she testified against Reno.” His Adam's apple shifted as he swallowed hard. “I knew you. I knew after the rumors got started, you wouldn't be able to work with people who didn't trust you. You'd quit and forget all about the missing dope and money. I was counting on that.”

“I didn't forget, though. I guess you didn't know me so well, after all.” Shaken by the sight of his best friend, his partner, holding a gun on him, Joe said, “Willis was there in her bedroom all along, wasn't he?”

O'Malley nodded.

“How did you know she would want to go out that night?”

“I suggested it. I figured she would jump at the chance. She was going stir-crazy locked up in that apartment. Willis hid in her room and waited there until after you came on and I left. I didn't think he'd hurt her. I swear it.”

Joe took a step toward him. “We can work this out, Steve. Talk to me. How does Prine figure in?”

O'Malley flinched. “Stay back.”

Across the room, Mac screeched and bristled his feathers.

“What's your plan, Steve? To take the flash drive?”

“I don't know, I—”

Joe shook his head. “It's over. Even if you kill me, Willis and Prine will talk. They've already named Landau. And I made a copy of the drive and left it with people who know what to do if anything happens to me.”

O'Malley started to crumble. “I messed up, Joe. I really messed up this time.”

Joe drew a long breath. Another. “Cathy will stand by you. I'll stand by you.” He took another step, reached out. “Hand me the gun. It doesn't have to be this way.”

“Stay back!”

Mac screeched. The cage rattled and the wire door fell open. A whirlwind of green feathers exploded into the room, surrounding O'Malley as he cried out and the gun went off.

Fire ripped through Joe's right thigh.

The apartment door burst open. Dino flew through the haze of swirling feathers and dove headfirst into O'Malley.

 

A
NNIE RAN THROUGH
the emergency room doors with her father on her heels. She stopped at the front window. “An ambulance just brought a man in with a gunshot wound,” she said to the woman behind the glass. “Joe Brady. Is he here?”

Her voice was too loud, too shrill. People in the waiting room turned to stare. Annie didn't care. When she and her father arrived at Joe's apartment, they had seen an ambulance and police cars pulling away. A neighbor told her Joe had been shot.

“Just a moment,” the nurse said. “I'll see what I can find out.”

While Annie paced, two men who had been leaning against the wall by the door approached her father. “Mr. Macy?” the older of the two men said.

Her father turned. “Ed!” He glanced at Annie. “Honey, this is Ed Simms, the investigator I told you about.”

“How is Joe?” Annie asked, and before Simms could answer, the younger man was at her side. Something about his appearance made her pause. The shape of his mouth, the slant of his smiling eyes. He was tall and reed-thin, with dusky skin and thinning dark hair.

He placed his hand on her arm. “I'm Dino Corelli, Joe's cousin. You must be Annie.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice emerging as little more than a squeak.

“Other than being half out of his mind worrying about you, Joe's doing okay.”

She couldn't stop the tears. “He's okay?”

Dino grasped the hand she held out to him. “He took one in the leg, but Joe's tough as old leather. He'll survive.”

“Were you there?”

He nodded. “Made it just in time to hear the gun go off.” He frowned and shook his head. “I'd swear I latched Mac's cage after I fed him. If the door hadn't opened—” He laughed. “I've told Joe a hundred times he should clip the wings on that smart-mouthed pile of feathers.”

Unsure what Joe's parrot had to do with anything, Annie squeezed Dino's hand. “If you'd been a second later…God, I can't stand to think about it.”

“I don't think O'Malley meant to shoot Joe. That crazy bird made him freak.”

“What happened to him?”

“O'Malley? He's in custody.”

In custody. Joe's partner. His best friend. “How's Joe handling it?” Annie asked.

“Not good. He loved the guy like a brother, you know?”

Annie nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

“But he's more worked up about you than anything else,” Dino added. “On account of you rushing here in your dad's plane and everything.”

The nurse returned to the window. “Mr. Brady's with the doctor now. I'll let you know when—”

“Through here?” Annie interrupted, and before the woman could answer, she stepped over and tugged on the door handle. It was locked.

“Ma'am,” the nurse said sternly. “You can't come back right now. I'll let you know when—”

The door opened suddenly and an orderly stepped through. Before it could close again, Annie slipped into the hallway.”

“Ma'am!” The nurse started after her. “Good luck trying to stop her,” Annie heard her father say, followed by Dino's and Ed Simms' laughter.

Annie darted down the hallway ahead of the nurse, ignoring the woman's protests, peeking past curtains into examining rooms. And then a curtain opened and she saw him, propped up in bed, his face as gray as death.

“Joe!” She didn't take time to acknowledge the doctor as she entered the room and hurried to the side of his bed.

“Annie,” Joe said, his voice groggy.

The nurse burst in behind her. “Ma'am, you—”

“It's okay,” the doctor told her. “Let her stay a minute.”

Annie cast a worried glance over her shoulder at the young man.