Fractured (16 page)

All sorts of fragmented thoughts flitted through Isabella's brain once she arrived at work later that morning. Going to the gravesite and meeting her aunt hadn't resolved any burning questions. They'd only intensified her curiosity.

After a couple of hours of completing long-neglected paperwork and searching in vain through the databases for anything on Schmidt Packaging, she made her way downstairs to the archives room. Nobody in their right mind went down into this area unless they had to, so the place was like the inside of a tomb. Dank and musty, it no doubt contained all the dust-borne pathogens known to man.

The files were listed chronologically, then alphabetically according to year. Trepidation tickled her spine. Finally, she spotted was she was looking for.

Yanking out the file, she moved closer to the light to examine the contents. There was a mug shot of her father stapled to the front cover. She ran her fingers over the worn dated photo, hoping that she'd spot something in his eyes that might help her with some answers. Instead, he looked like every other punk kid who got arrested: full of attitude.

A niggling doubt hung steadfastly in her mind. She could no longer sweep the memories under the rung.

She sucked in a breath, cleared her mind and started to read. ‘Suspect was picked up on the fifty-nine hundred block of Loomis in connection with a robbery.' He was arrested and later released when the victim refused to press charges.

Could be the victim couldn't ID him, or there wasn't enough evidence to support a conviction, or there was some kind of intimidation involved that forced the victim to back down. If her father was best buds with Jacob Lacey, the intimidation thing would be the front runner for an explanation.

But then she thought about Carmen's insistence of her father's innocence. Sure, the woman was family, but there seemed to be much more than family allegiance in her protest.

She was anxious to find the file relative to the murder case. The cop in her wanted to see the chain of evidence, how it all happened and who did the investigation. She went back to the row of files and looked for the other file.

It was nowhere to be found. But who would take it, and why?

* * *

“How you doing, beautiful, outside of your serious lack of judgment and bad taste hooking up with Taylor again?” Jonas leaned against her desk.

Isabella shook off her melancholy memories and smiled. “It's like a science experiment. Sooner or later he might grow on me.”

“Now that you mention it, he is a little moldy at times.” He guffawed and perched his butt on the corner of her desk. “Seriously, Sanchez, how are you doing? Is that arm still bothering you? You've got to be more careful. Like I keep telling you, it's a jungle out there.”

Jonas was closer to fifty than forty. Most guys his age were thinking about retirement, but he had a hellion of a teenage son that was constantly in and out of trouble. The poor guy spent a ton of money on the kid, including sending him to military schools, paying lawyer fees, psychiatric bills and everything else under the sun. On top of that, he'd divorced his first wife about eight years back and lost a bundle of money on the divorce settlement then hooked himself up with a trophy wife who was fifteen years his junior. Rumor had it she had expensive taste. Since Jonas volunteered for overtime on a consistent basis, she had to believe all she'd heard was true.

“Don't worry about me. I've had a string of bad luck lately, but I'm sure things will turn my way soon. Besides, I always told you I have that lucky horseshoe up by butt. I'll be fine.”

“Especially with that stellar partner of yours, right?” He pointed to the desk next to hers and shrugged.

“Matthews is in the field. Unfortunately,” she glanced at her arm, “the doctor would only clear me for desk duty.”

“Out in the field, by himself? Why do I think there are a couple of ladies involved?”

Jason Matthews's work ethic—or lack thereof—was legendary. “But only if they're hot.” She chuckled. Jason left a lot to be desired in a partner, but since she hated having one, it worked perfectly for them.

He brought his voice down to a whisper. “Any news on who got to your father?”

After her encounter with Carmen earlier and what she hadn't found downstairs, she bristled at his choice of words, despite her relationship with Jonas. “I guess the good news is it doesn't seem like anyone believes it was me. Other than that, none that I know of; although to be truthful I'm sure I'd be the last to know. That Fed guy actually asked me to help with the murder investigation, but of course doesn't give me squat in terms of what he knows.”

Jonas scratched his head. “That seems like a weird thing for a Fed to ask. Did he say why?”

“Didn't give me a reason. I suspect he doesn't care if the crime gets solved.” She shrugged. “And the truth is, neither do I.” Even though she said the words, she wasn't convinced she actually meant them.

“It's hard to go full speed when you know the guy was a hardcore murderer.”

“Exactly.” Still, a smidgen of doubt crept into her as Carmen's words rang inside her head. She needed to find that file. “Out of curiosity, if I can't find my father's file in the archives, do you know where it could be?”

He shrugged. “Don't know. Old files go missing all the time. Maybe that Fed guy took it.”

“That's what I was thinking.” She mulled over the idea. “Except aren't you supposed to fill out one of those forms and put it in place of the file.”

“He's a Fed. He probably thinks he can break the rules.” Jonas seemed a little distracted.

Before they could discuss anything further, Landry walked up. “Trying to steal my woman, Jonas?”

“Hey, I need another female in my life like I need a hole in my head. Between my ex-wife and my current one, I've got more than enough to handle.” Jonas smiled. “But I got to admit she's pretty darn cute, even if she's got a stubborn streak a mile long.”

“Don't I know it,” Landry answered.

“Hey, fellas, I'm in the room, remember,” she chimed in. “Besides, I'm not stubborn, I'm willful. That's what my grandfather used to say, anyway.”

They both laughed. Jonas rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Remember to take care of yourself. I didn't nurture you through this hellacious process to see something bad happen to you. And remember—”

“It's a jungle out there,” they said simultaneously and laughed.

Landry pointed his thumb at Jonas. “This guy's like a broken record. I swear they should give me combat pay for staying in the same squad car with him.”

She shooed them away. “You two stop wasting my time and get to work.”

Landry winked at her and smiled before he turned to leave. Jonas followed suit.

It was unlike her to leave before eight at night. But by around six, exhaustion tugged at her. The doctor had warned her to only work half days for the first week. Considering she'd spent the morning at the cemetery, she'd already put in more than a full day.

While the parking lot was lit, dark surrounded the perimeter untouched by the lights. She brushed off the abnormal bout of paranoia as she hit the remote for her car and settled in. But as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the side street, a prickle started at the base of her skull and tingled upwards. She checked her rearview mirror to see if she was being followed.

Nothing. Still, as cautiously as possible, she removed her gun from the holster and rested it on her thigh. Seconds later she recognized the source of her discomfort, slammed on the brakes, and turned around, gun clicked and ready.

“Lou, you scared the crap out of me.” Nerves pulsed and rattled up and down her arms and legs while her breath came in spurts and fits. Right now her whole body was on adrenaline overload. She needed to gain control. After engaging the safety, she re-holstered her gun.

“Keep driving,” he whispered from his crouched position in the back seat. “Don't look back in case somebody's following you.” His voice sounded shaky.

“Where have you been? I've been looking all over.” Between the darkness that had settled in and his plea, she couldn't tell if he'd been hurt in some way.

“I can't say. For all I know, they might have bugged your car.”

“Who? The Feds?” She wanted to shake information out of him. So far on this journey she'd only been met with frustration on top of more frustration. “Lou, you need to give me some answers. It's been a rough couple of days.”

“I know, but it hasn't been easy for me, either. I don't know who to trust.”

“You know you can trust me. I've always been there for you, Lou.” Somehow, some way, this madness had to stop. In order to do that, he needed to tell her what he knew.

“I know, Bella, but things got out of control pretty quickly. Then it was too late to go back.” He gulped in a deep breath. She could feel terror emanating from him like the flow of waves in an ocean.

“Why don't you start at the beginning?” She hated not being able to look at him directly.

“I don't know if I can. It's all gotten so convoluted I'm not sure when it all started. First a Fed came asking about you—”

“Malone.” That was the one and only constant she had in this picture. Malone had his hand in this somehow.

He nodded. “He started asking questions about your dad and your grandfather.”

That made her think what Malone told her was intentional. What did he want her to uncover? Was it the Lacey connection or something else? She hid her frustration and pressed on. “What happened to your job at Schmidt Packaging?”

“Don't know. One day I'm working there, the next I get the heave-ho without so much as an explanation.”

“So they did fire you?” In the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder why Jonathan Schmidt lied to her. Now, in retrospect, she felt bad that she doubted Lou.

“Of course. I didn't lie about that.”

“How did you get a job there in the first place?”

“Sergio Valentine. He was a friend of mine from the neighborhood. He told me they were hiring.”

“The guy seemed like a thug to me.”

Lou clicked his tongue. “Even though he spent some time in jail and tried to act tough, he wasn't like that.”

“Anything weird going on there that you could tell?”

“I wasn't around that long.” He drew in a breath. “But after I left, things started to get really strange.”

“How so?”

“Your father started calling me from prison. And then I was pretty sure I was being followed.”

“Why didn't you tell me about it? Maybe I could have helped.” She couldn't imagine Lou being in trouble and feeling too frightened to come to her about it. Ever since he was a little kid, Lou had come to her when he was in trouble. She felt like the big sister he never had. He had to know she'd have his back. Unless he knew this thing he got mixed up in was bigger than the two of them.

“I knew how you felt about your father. Besides, I had to think about Cynthia and the baby. Look what happened to your mom.”

“Wait a minute.” A combination of fear and apprehension skittered along her spine. “What do you mean? My mother was killed in a hit and run.”

“No, she was killed. They got to her.”

“Who? What are you talking about?” Lou seemed hopped up, nervous. Could she trust his ramblings, or was it fear and paranoia talking?

“The Aces. Whatever you want to call them. They didn't like the idea of your father marrying her because of your grandfather being a King, or something like that.”

“What? That's some kind of bull my father gave you. He never would have—” Why was it difficult to finish her train of thought? Was it because she naively wanted it to be true? Instead, she shook off the feeling and got to the point. “They killed my mother?”

“Yep, and threatened you and your grandfather.”

“My God. How come nobody told me this before?” This had to be hands down the most earth-shattering revelation to date. She'd only just come to terms with the possibility of her grandfather's involvement and was now being hit with this.

“Your father and your grandfather didn't want you to know. Maybe they should have clued you in to some of this stuff, but I can't say I blame them.”

“But how does it all fit together: my father, my grandfather, the death of my mother, Schmidt Packaging, everything?” While she was glad to see Lou, now she was more confused than ever.

“I only know that something isn't right, and it's getting worse.”

“Where are you and Cynthia staying? How can I get in touch with you?” Based on his behavior and what he'd told her, she was worried for him. She wanted to arrange protection, but knew he wouldn't trust they'd be safe. Considering what she'd learned so far, she didn't blame him. “Let me call the lieutenant. Maybe he can help out with this.”

“I'm not saying he's part of this, but he might have to tell somebody who is. I can't take the risk. As it is we move every night, but I still feel like we're losing the battle. I thought if I came and told you what I know you might be able to get this all cleared up so we can feel safe again.”

“I'm glad you have such faith in me, but I'm spitting in the wind. As soon as I figure something out, another issue pops to the surface.” Like now. “Earlier you said my grandfather and father communicated. I always thought they hated each other.”

“They wrote all the time. Your grandfather sent him pictures and updates about you. Before he died, he asked me to continue to do that for him, which I did, mostly by mail. But then like I said your father started calling me asking questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Asking how you were doing, but then more about if I'd seen anything weird going on in the neighborhood or around the house, that kind of stuff.”

“Did you know my father was coming here that night?”

“No way. I didn't know anything about him even getting out of prison. I only came back to pick up some money Cynthia had stashed in one of the cabinets. As I was making one more round of the place, I saw some guys in the alley. After the last couple of days, I decided to stay put until they went away. When I heard somebody upstairs, I thought it was you, but didn't see your car in front. At that point, I was afraid to leave.”

“Did you hear a gunshot?”

“No.”

“Did you get a good look at the guys in the alley?”

“No. I've got to go. Cynthia will be worried if I'm gone too long. After you're sure nobody's following you, find a safe place to let me out.”

“But why are they after you?”

“I'm not sure why they were watching me in the beginning. But now I'm pretty sure they think I saw them murder your father. But I didn't.” He stopped talking and blew out a breath. “That won't matter much if they kill me and my family. These people are ruthless.”

She wanted to respect his wishes, but needed more pieces of the puzzle filled in if she hoped to solve this. “If you wanted to sneak away, why the moving truck? Apparently the only person who didn't know about it was me. Even the homeless guy told me you moved out.”

“That was one of my better ideas. I had the moving truck going one way and us going the other. I figured that might throw off whoever was watching us. That fooled them for a while, but now…” He paused. “I'm getting a bad feeling. You've got to help me. You're the only person who can do it.”

“I'll do what I can. You be careful.” After making some random turns in a haphazard pattern, she squealed to a stop outside the El station. She touched his hand and shooed him out the door.

Suddenly, she felt the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders.

* * *

By the time she arrived at her home, parking spaces on her street had started to fill up. She finally found a spot at the end of the block. Some days, no matter how hard she tried, nothing came easy. Today seemed to be one of those days. It was like she'd missed something at every turn. First Carmen's message, the lack of evidence about Schmidt, her father's lost file, and now Lou's pleas for help. She didn't have a clue as to how to accomplish it. Now, she couldn't even find a parking spot.

She got out of her car and headed toward the front door. Maybe it was residual paranoia, but on the way up her front steps she noticed the car. While she couldn't see who was inside, she'd seen the car before, maybe earlier this morning.

Lou was right. Somebody was watching her.

As soon as she got inside, she dialed the lieutenant's home number. “Somebody's outside my apartment.” She could barely contain her rage, especially every time she thought about Lou and how she might have unknowingly put him and his family in even more danger. Instead, she tried to soothe herself by pacing. Over the last couple of days she'd been physically and emotionally violated, but this felt so much worse.

“A guy in a dark sedan?”

“Ah-huh.”

“Then there's nothing to worry about. He's a Fed.” He said the words so nonchalantly it took a second or two to register.

“What do you mean? Who gave permission for a Fed to sit outside my door and spy on me?”

“He's not spying, he's keeping you safe. You should thank him.”

“I can keep myself safe, thank you very much. Now call him off.” After the disturbing conversation with Lou, she couldn't think straight. The last thing she needed was another dumb Fed messing with her.

“Considering the last couple of days, I'd say you need some help.”

“I do not need help. Now call him off.” Her voice got louder with each word.

“No can do. Malone's calling the shots.”

“How could you do that?” She felt the betrayal run through her body in a violent wave. Being set up by a stranger was one thing, but her own lieutenant piling on was something else entirely.

“You're not listening, Sanchez. If there's one thing you haven't learned, it's how to choose your battles. You can't fight every enemy single-handedly.”

“Who says?”

“Some things are bigger than you think.”

“I know you're not one to talk in riddles, so you need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”

“It goes much higher than me. I'm not privy to the dirt. All I know is I'm supposed to let Malone take the lead and follow where he tells me to go.”

“That's not like you, lieutenant.” Betrayal wove through her like a knife piercing vital organs along the way. “You've always been straight with me and had my back, when you were my sergeant and now as my lieutenant.”

“Come on, Sanchez, don't be mad at me. I'm doing my job.”

“Bending to the whim of some Fed who might be feeding me to the wolves? They broke my dad out of prison only to get him killed. I'm sure they said they were protecting him, too.” She hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

It didn't matter. She knew whatever he had to say wasn't going to sit well with her. She picked up the phone and punched in Landry's number several times before she finally broke down and hit the send button.

She hated relying on him. Time and time again, she'd said she didn't need anybody by her side—be it work partner or life partner. Still, something foreign and downright nasty settled inside at the idea that she desperately wanted to talk to him.

Somehow, over the course of the last several days, Landry had ingratiated himself into her life. Despite her sincere desire for independence, she found herself leaning on him for more things than she'd ever thought possible.

Which definitely had to stop.

Right after this call.

“What's up?”

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to make sense of the events before she spoke. The last thing she needed to sound like was a whiny foolish female. That would be the last straw.

First she started to develop a soft spot for her long-lost father; now she was relying on somebody else to solve her problems. What's next? Will she start wearing dresses and going to Malone for advice?

She shuddered at the thought. “There's a Fed sitting down my block.”
And Lou was hiding in my backseat,
the new not-so-improved part of her wanted to tell him, but fortunately the old Isabella took over. Being paranoid could be a good thing. It saved her on many occasions. Besides, maybe the Feds had bugged her phone.

“Does the lieutenant know?”

“He doesn't seem to care. He said he's got no jurisdiction.”

“The Feds take over if they want to.”

“But he shouldn't have rolled over and played dead.” While this whole thing seemed to be a minor issue in the scheme of things, it gave her a good focus for her anger. She didn't like being coddled, babysat, or treated as an incompetent.

“Maybe he had no choice.”

Frustration ebbed and flowed like a tidal wave inside her body. “Don't make excuses for him.”

“The lieutenant's a good guy. You know he wouldn't do something if he had another option.”

“Landry, you're not helping.”

“I'm trying to keep you from losing it.”

“I'm not sure you or anybody can do that.” Why was he so frustratingly calm?

“Why did you call me, then? Did you think I'd slay your dragon for you?”

“What's the matter with you?” The idea that he thought she was weak and vulnerable rankled her. She didn't do weak, and she never did vulnerable. “You're being an ass.”