No Mercy (33 page)

remembered correctly, Nate’s father had passed it down before he and Nate’s mother disappeared.

She saw the title,
Baseball, An Informal History.
Yes, Nate had been obsessed with that book, even

though it had been seriously outdated by the time it came into his possession.

“Is that what you needed?” Belle felt like she had to whisper in the quiet of the room.

“Yes.” Dylan gripped the book in one hand as he shone the flashlight on the cover. “The office

has been combed through by the BPD and the DHS, but there might be something in this book that

can help us that would mean nothing to them.” He turned from the bookcase to meet Belle’s gaze.

“This was the book where I found the postcard Nate wrote to me.”

The book had probably been one of the last things Nate had handled. Another shiver went

through Belle as if his ghost was in the room with them, trying to tell them something and they just

had to listen.

Dylan swept the light over the office and to the desk that probably once held Nate’s computer.

Dylan confirmed her thought when he added, “I don’t know that there’s anything left here that wil

help us. Forensics has gone through his desktop computer and has found nothing that is out of the

ordinary. If there were records, he kept them somewhere else.” Dylan frowned. “I’m sure Nate had a

laptop, but one hasn’t been found. I have a feeling someone got to it first.”

Belle rubbed her arms with her hands, feeling a chil that her jacket couldn’t keep out. “Are we

leaving now?”

He looked at the book in his hand, then nodded. “I have what I came for. It’s time to see what, if

anything, this can tell us.”

~~*~~

By the time they returned to the B & B with the other agents and Joe, Belle knew Dylan was flat

out exhausted. Apparently after his confrontation with Harvey, he’d aided in the search of Salvatore

and Christie’s home before tackling Salvatore’s office. Of course they’d also headed to Nate’s to

retrieve the baseball book.

She’d insisted they get some sleep before they tackled the book. He’d started to argue but

relented and had gone to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Now she watched him shrug into a black T-shirt and pul it over his head. “I didn’t mean to wake

you.”

“It’s time to get up.” She slid out of bed. “I want to help, not sleep.”

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She shook her head. “Let’s get to work.”

“I’l ask Jim or Clarice to grab something from downstairs.” He left the bedroom of the suite and

she followed.

Joe’s ears perked forward and he rose from his sitting position as Belle and Dylan entered the

front room.

As Dylan spoke to Agents Heber and Lutz, Belle sat on the couch in front of the coffee table

where Dylan had left the book titled
Baseball, An Informal History,
written by Douglass Wallop
.

The cover creaked as she opened it. She smiled, but it was a small smile, as she recognized

Nate’s handwriting as a kid on the inside of the front cover. The scrawl was messy, the letters

scrunched close together, but she could still read the fading ink.

Property of Nate O’Malley

She lightly touched his script, the backs of her eyes aching with unshed tears at the thought of

the boy and teenager she’d known. He had grown into a man and she hadn’t been here to see it.

And now he was dead.

Her throat still hurt from being nearly strangled, but from the desire to cry, too. She blinked

rapidly, took in a deep breath, and slowly let it out before turning the first couple of pages. They were

yellowed with age, and the book had the musty smell that older books tended to have.

She wanted to continue, but she knew Dylan would want to look at it with her. She flipped to the

back and saw that it was 263 pages. Who knew how many times Nate had read the book from cover

to cover when he was young.

The book jacket slipped off as Belle started to close the book. She started to put the jacket back

the way it belonged when she felt something beneath it, on the back of the book.

Dylan closed the door, but she barely heard it as she removed the book jacket and looked at the

back.

Her lips parted and her skin prickled as she stared at a disc that had been slipped into a

handmade pocket made of ledger paper that was taped to the back of the hardcover book. BOB

DYLAN
was printed with a black marker on the gold DVD.

Her heart rate picked up. She didn’t look away from the DVD, as if it might disappear, as her

own Dylan sat on the couch beside her.

Wordlessly, he pulled the book closer to him. He carefully slipped the DVD out of the pocket and

held it by the edges, careful not to touch the surface

She looked from the DVD to the Dylan who sat right beside her. “Do you think he wrote ‘Bob

Dylan’ on it to throw off anyone who might see it?”

Dylan gave a slow nod. “Sometimes, when we were goofing around, he’d call me Bob. Likely

anyone who saw this wouldn’t think twice about it being me that it referred to. They would just think

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Belle studied the unreadable expression on Dylan’s face. “I didn’t know he called you Bob.”

Dylan shook his head. “He didn’t do it often, and just when we were alone.” He slipped the DVD

back into its paper pocket. “Hold on.” He got to his feet and strode across the room to the door.

He opened it and spoke to Agent Lutz. Belle couldn’t hear their conversation but watched as the

agent nodded and responded before turning away. Dylan stayed in the doorway until Lutz returned

and handed him something. When he turned and closed the door behind him, she saw that he was

holding what looked like a slim laptop.

When he sat on the couch beside her again, he set the laptop on the surface and booted it up.

As he waited, he retrieved the DVD from its pocket.

Belle realized she was holding her breath and let it out slowly. Her heart pounded even faster

as he slid the DVD into a slot in the laptop.

A directory came up and she saw a list of MP3 files, all of them with a Bob Dylan song title.

Just Like a Woman

Like a Rolling Stone

Visions of Johanna

Blowin’ in the Wind

Tangled up in Blue

Every Grain of Sand

Mr. Tambourine Man

Rainy Day Women

I Want You

Positively 4th Street

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

“This one.” Dylan used the touchpad on the laptop to move the cursor over
Tangled up in Blue.

“If you look at this little icon, you can see it’s not a song. It’s a video.”

“Hidden in the middle of Bob Dylan’s songs.” Belle looked at it in amazement.

Beside her, Dylan clicked on the title. “
If
this isn’t actually a video of Bob.”

Belle watched as a screen opened. For a few seconds the screen was black—and then Nate’s

face appeared on the screen.

An ache hit her full force in her chest as she stared at her friend. He was older, but the same

eyes looked back at her that she’d known wel .

Nate looked directly into what had likely been his laptop’s or desktop computer’s camera.

“Hey, Dylan.” Nate grinned, but then it faded a little. “If you’re listening to this, then likely I’m

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the CoS used to hang out.”

Belle put her hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. That was where they’d had Nate’s

memorial.

Nate looked serious. “And I hope Belle’s sitting right next to you, buddy. Where she belongs.”

Belle’s stomach flipped as she lowered her hand and she looked to see Dylan’s gaze on her

before they both looked again to Nate’s image.

“Let’s get down to business.” Nate held up a ledger. “Two ledgers have gone missing from my

office.” His expression turned serious. “You’re not going to like this, but I think Salvatore Reyes took

them.” Nate hesitated. “I think there’s a good chance that he’s going to try to kil me.”

A noise of protest escaped Belle. The thought that Nate expected an attempt on his life by

Salvatore was another knife to the gut. She’d had a feeling, but hearing it from Nate was worse.

“You’re probably wondering why I didn’t let you know in some other way, Dylan.” Nate’s throat

worked as he swallowed. “You were undercover and I didn’t want to do anything that would lead

Salvatore to you. That’s why I sent the postcards. If I die, I figure you’l get with everyone in the CoS,

and you’l put all the pieces together. I’m sure that’s why you’re here.”

Belle looked at Dylan and saw his hand fisted on his thigh. She touched him with her fingertips

and he took her hand in his but didn’t look away from the computer screen. She felt his tension

through their connection, but she wondered if he felt a little more grounded like she did as they held

hands.

“I may have made one mistake.” Nate rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips before

looking at the camera again. “By now you know that I sent Christie a postcard, too.” He shook his

head. “I didn’t want it to be obvious that I wanted you to find out Salvatore was involved by leaving

Christie out. But the more I consider it, the more I think I screwed up. Damn, but I hope not.”

You did,
Belle thought with a sadness that tore through her like a knife.
But you never could

have imagined what Salvatore would do.

Nate looked at the screen with an earnestness that made Belle squeeze Dylan’s hand tighter.

“Find those ledgers, Dylan. They’re important. I’m certain Salvatore has a safe in his office. When I

was there once, he went into his office and came back with ledgers Edmund had worked on.”

A pause before Nate continued. “G.I. Joe…” He trailed off. “He and one of the ledgers have the

keys. That’s all I’m going to say in case the wrong people discover this DVD.” Nate looked grim. “And

there are a lot of the wrong people around.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as his throat worked again and he sounded choked up. “Salvatore

forced me to kil a man not long ago.” Nate dragged his hand down his face, which had gone white.

“He said he’d kil my friends if I didn’t do it and he put a gun to my head.” Nate’s eyes looked watery.

“The guy’s name was Edmund Salcido, and he was Salvatore’s accountant. Apparently he was

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and if I tried to cheat him, too.”

Nate rubbed his face with his hand. “Salvatore made me slit the guy’s throat. Right in my living

room. It was like Afghanistan all over again. After I killed Salcido and the man bled out, Salvatore

made me clean up the blood while he watched. Blood had sprayed everywhere, Dylan. Fucking

everywhere. Salvatore made me paint the walls and told me it would look like I tried to cover up the

murder. I don’t know what they did with the man’s body, but I’m pretty sure they planted the weapon

somewhere on my property. They did it so that they’d have more leverage against me.”

Bile rose in Belle’s throat the whole time Nate spoke about the murder. She was certain she was

going to throw up.

He looked away from the camera, clearly choked up before returning his gaze to the camera

again. “Your postcard is in the book and I hope that helps you find this. I just have to slip the DVD

into the pocket and put it on the shelf and I know you’l find it. I have no doubt you’l remember how

much I loved that book. I carried it everywhere and you know me well.”

A dog’s ferocious barking started, sounding a little distant, like the dog was outside. “G.I. Joe is

going crazy.” Nate moved away, disappearing from sight for a moment, then returned in front of the

camera.

A panicked look shot across Nate’s face. “Oh, shit. Salvatore just drove up with his men and

they’re getting out of their cars. See you, Dylan.”

The screen went black.

Belle’s stomach churned and she barely kept from vomiting. “That was probably when they came

for him—when they kil ed him.”

Dylan squeezed her hand so tightly she felt like the bones might break. “Nate probably just had

enough time to burn the DVD before putting it in the book and stuffing it on the shelf.”

A tear rolled down Belle’s cheek. Dylan released her hand then cupped her face with both of his.

He used his thumb to brush away the tear. “We’re going to get Salvatore, Belle. And we’re going to

get Christie back. I promise you.”

Belle closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. “I believe you.” He slid his

fingers down until his hands rested on her shoulders. She sniffled. “Nate said we had to find those

ledgers.”

“Yes.” Dylan looked like he was considering it. An expression crossed his face, as if something

had just dawned on him. He moved his hands from Belle’s shoulders. “I think I know just where the

ledgers are.”

***

***