Enemies and Playmates (41 page)

“Absolutely,” Lauren said.

Paul nodded, allowing a small smile. Raymond leaned forward. “I’d like to get started ASAP,” he said. “Maybe we could start working on it here?” He offered another of his brilliant smiles. “I know that’s pushy. I don’t want to rush you but, you know how it is, timing is everything in this business.”

“I’m ready,” Lauren said. “If you want, we can start later this afternoon.

“I’ll be here.”

***

Jesse slid into his car and stuck Lauren’s strawberry shake in the cup holder. She hadn’t been eating much at the hospital. Not that he could blame her. He’d seen more appetizing dog food. So he thought he’d entice her with one of those things she could never resist.

Tim climbed into the passenger seat. The chocolate shake he held was already half gone. Jesse motioned to the jumbo cup. “That’s going to cost you an extra hour at the gym,” he said.

“Yeah. Well you know I don’t like what you’ve been getting into. Now Forenzi’s dead.” Tim eyed Jesse with a frown. “Nice that we got that anonymous tip.”

“My point exactly,” Tim said. “Most of the shit you turned over to Eldridge is missing. Forenzi and Nyles are dead. You’re all that’s left.”

“You think Eldridge is dirty?”

“No. Someone got into his office. His computer was hacked. All his files torn up. I saw the look on his face. The guy went nuts, ripped the place apart. Everyone was questioned.”

“Barnes, then? Jesse said. “Or one of his lower ranked minions.”

“Yeah. But, my point is, you’re hanging out on a limb here. Covington gets you out of the way, he’s pretty much free and clear.”

“Not totally,” Jesse said. “There are ways around these things. And, with some luck, Covington might still be charged with hiring Kestler to kill his wife.”

“Maybe.” Tim shrugged. He sucked the rest of his shake through the straw, then tapped the empty cup against his knee. “That doesn’t look good. Covington didn’t leave a trail. No money exchanged hands. No one has been able to connect Kestler to Covington in any way that makes him look dirty.”

Tim glanced at Jesse. “I know you don’t want to hear this,” he said. “Covington will likely walk away relatively unscathed. But he’s not about to let you do the same.”

“I know that,” Jesse said. “I keep my eyes open.”

“Even when you sleep?”

“What, you want to sleep over and guard me?” Jesse slowed to a stop at a red light. A black van pulled up behind him. The same van that had been parked in the corner lot at The Creamery where they’d gotten the shakes. A young male was driving, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two. An older male sat in the passenger seat. Jesse kept an eye on them as the light changed and they drove through the intersection.

Jesse swung into the left hand turning lane. The van followed. He said, “Van’s been following us since The Creamery. Didn’t notice it on the way up. Probably nothing.”

“Hell no. Naïve little me thought I was only going to the hospital to meet the woman of your dreams. Didn’t think a gun was a requirement.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got mine.”

“Great,” Tim said. “I’ll just duck under the seat while you have yourself a good old-fashioned shootout.”

Jesse chuckled. “Actually, I was thinking of using you as a decoy. You can put on my jacket and I’ll dump you off on the side of the street. While they’re shooting at you, I’ll take them out.”

“I’ve seen that van before,” Jesse said. “Same van was parked across from Covington’s house yesterday. I thought it was surveillance.”

“There’s probably a hundred other vans just like it in this city.”

“Yeah but I don’t believe in coincidences.”

The van stayed behind them until they were a block from Alex Covington’s house. Then it veered off onto a different side street. Jesse drove slowly past Alex’s house. No cars out of place. The entire street was quiet.

“Well?” Tim said. “What are you thinking?”

“Can you run a plate for me?”

Tim dug his cell phone from his pocket and made the call. Jesse turned back toward the hospital. He kept an eye in his mirrors, looking for the black van.

“Got a pen and paper?” Tim asked.

“Console,” Jesse said.

Tim found the paper and pen and quickly scrawled a name and address. He thanked the person on the other end of the phone, then flipped it shut. He looked at Jesse. “You ready for this one?” he said.

***

Jesse stroked Lauren’s hair until she fell into a deep sleep. Then he pulled the covers over her shoulders and kissed her softly on the cheek. He strode down the darkened hallway toward the elevators. The hospital atmosphere had subdued with nightfall.

Outside, a frigid brisk wind blew, chilling him to the core. Christmas decorations lit up many of the houses along the streets he drove. Hard to believe that the holiday was so close. He certainly wasn’t feeling much Christmas spirit these days.

He turned the radio up and tried to get lost in the music. His mind refused to be still. He needed to make a major decision and he needed to do it soon. He could take everything he had to the FBI. They’d open an investigation of their own and maybe eventually take down Covington, Barnes, and any other dirty cop and politician involved.

That was a big maybe. Investigations were slow. Everything had to be done by the book. The FBI would play the watch and wait game. Give the small scum deals to testify against the bigger scum. Possibly tip the whole investigation off and get nowhere.

Jesse raked a hand through his hair. Even if he wanted to wait around while the FBI played connect the dots, chances were that he wouldn’t live long enough to see the outcome. Covington would want him dead in a hurry. He wouldn’t be playing around with the smalltime nonsense anymore. The next hired hit would be purely professional.

Another option, and the one he favored, was to take Covington out himself. No more games. No going through the proper channels to seek some elusive justice. Just get Covington the hell out of their lives.

As for the rest of Covington’s cohorts, they’d more than likely disperse. Jesse doubted any of them would come after him. They’d be busy keeping up appearances, keeping a low profile. But they’d still be free, which was a major drawback.

Then there was option C, which had its benefits. He could take out Covington first, then bring everything he had to the FBI. They could take their sweet time digging around in the mud until they rounded up all the guilty parties. Maybe take out a chunk of the police department. The only problem with that was he’d be under close scrutiny for Covington’s murder.

Of course, he’d be looked at for the bastard’s murder no matter what the circumstances. The difference was that he had a trump card with Barnes. If the cops started coming down on him for Covington’s murder, he could easily threaten to expose the captain. He was fairly certain the cops would immediately back off.

He had no cards to play with the FBI. He’d be dangling there with the rest of the scum.

Sure, he was smart enough not to leave a blazing trail leading straight to himself. The cops would look at him only because it would be an obvious connection. Yet he wasn’t the only person around with motive to kill Covington. No physical evidence. No arrest. Sounded good, in theory anyway.

Jesse’s head ached. He lowered his window and sucked in some fresh air. Or at least that was his intent. What he got instead was a lungful of exhaust from the truck in front of him. He coughed, sputtered to himself. Why hadn’t he moved to the country?

“We know the driver was most likely the Sullivan kid, Barnes’ stepson. This kid’s uncle, Barnes’ wife’s brother, is Lance Sullivan. That name familiar to you?”

“Doesn’t ring any warning bells,” Jesse said. “Should I know him?”

“He’s been arrested twice,” Tim said. “First time for assault. Charges were eventually dropped. The guy he nearly killed decided he was no longer sure Sullivan was the right guy. Second time was murder. Sullivan was acquitted. Seems some of the evidence mysteriously disappeared. And a couple of witnesses came out of the blue to testify they’d been with Sullivan at the time of the murder.”

While Tim spoke, Jesse pulled into the breakdown lane. He carefully watched each car that passed. “You think this guy is a professional or just a wannabe badass?”

“Not a hard one,” Jesse said. “Covington helps out Barnes, which means Barnes owes him in return. Unless Sullivan was working for Covington at the time and Covington was covering his own ass.”

Jesse waited for a break in the traffic, then pulled out. He turned east and headed out to Lincoln Street. Three blocks from Barnes’ home, Jesse stopped on the side of the road. He hadn’t noticed anyone following him. That fact actually bothered him more than if he’d seen a tail. He punched Barnes’ number into his phone and waited. Barnes barked a sleepy hello after the third ring.