Shades of Gray Page 16
Shannon looked at me as if expecting an explanation.
“There was a lot of gunpowder in the warehouse,” I said. “Kegs of it. And a lot of crates, but I don’t know what was inside those.”
“Could be guns or other weapons. Probably shipping them overseas to terrorists.”
“Not anymore.”
He flashed me a smile. “Nope.”
Shannon slid closer to the unconscious officer. “Hold on, Jon. You’re going to be okay. Just hold on.”
I bent over Ace, but besides the bump on his head, he didn’t seem damaged. “Wake up!” I shouted at him, my voice only marginally sympathetic. I was still annoyed by how he’d deserted me at the warehouse.
After a few more attempts, Ace’s eyes fluttered. “Huh? Oh, it’s you. Where are we?”
“Never mind him,” Shannon said. “What about Dennis?”
Dennis was unconscious, but he had a pulse. “I don’t know. His breathing is bad.”
“The only reason he’s alive at all is because he didn’t tell the Saitos what they wanted to know.”
“Yeah, but what was that?”
“Maybe he’ll tell us.”
We passed a few seconds in silence, and then I said more quietly, “Sawyer wasn’t there. Jake, either.”
“Ah, so that’s why you were there.”
“We’re lucky she was,” Tracy said over her shoulder.
Shannon didn’t reply, but he crawled between the two front seats, ready and watching. The gun in his hand reminded me that we weren’t safe, not yet.
Tracy took a sharp corner, throwing us into the wall of the van. Dennis opened his eyes at the impact, his left hand fumbling in his pocket. “Need to call Sophie,” he muttered. “Make sure she takes care of Sawyer.”
“Sh,” I said. “I’ll talk to her.” He obviously didn’t remember what I’d said about his son, or his fever was messing with his mind.
He had something in his unbroken hand, but it was too small for a cell phone. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “You have a lighter? All along you had a lighter?”
“Took it from them. But the rollers are too stiff for my left hand. Couldn’t get it to stay lit long enough to burn the rope.”
I started to try out the lighter myself but dropped it immediately when a terror-filled imprint flared in my mind. I’d experienced enough terror in that warehouse without tapping into Dennis’s.
“Did you hear anyone tell them we were coming?” Shannon asked.
Dennis stared at him mutely, and Shannon had to repeat the question. Dennis nodded but before he could speak, Ace said, “It was me. They were going to kill me. I had to give them something.”
In one motion, Shannon was at his throat, shaking him. “You miserable little weasel. I should have known.”
“Thanks for coming back for me,” Ace muttered.
Shannon shoved him away. “I should have let you burn. You almost got yourself and the rest of us killed.”
“I’m sorry.” Ace lifted his head and met Shannon’s eyes. “I’m sorry about everything.”
His apology seemed to be for more than his betrayal, but I couldn’t ask about it with Shannon glaring at him. Besides, it wasn’t my business.
In strangled silence we made it to the police perimeter where we called for an ambulance. Dennis, Jon, and Ace were treated and carted off, and Tracy was ordered to the hospital for stitches on her cheek.
“I can go in later,” Tracy said to Shannon. “I want to go with you to get the Saitos.”
“Sorry. Hospital first. Peirce will drive you.”
“You wouldn’t go in.” She gave Shannon a dark look, but he was already moving away, barking orders. The wail of fire trucks and police cars made a cacophony in the confusion, and I for one was glad to leave the area. Now that Dennis was safe and Jake nowhere near the Saitos, I had no issue with them. I needed to get to Kolonda’s and figure out what had happened to Jake. She could at least tell me the name of the shady contractor who was giving her problems. That was my only lead at the moment. With my dead cell phone and no wheels, though, how to get there was another issue.
“We’ll give you a ride,” Tracy offered. “Better yet, come with me to the hospital. We can get my face fixed, check on Jon and Dennis, and then talk to the officers we sent to look into Jake’s disappearance.”
“Can’t you call them now?”
“I already left a message. They’ll call me back when they can.” She had another cell phone now, co-opted from one of the other officers.
“Okay.” Though I knew I’d get more inside information by sticking with her, it still chafed that I was doing nothing immediate to recover Jake. A pit was growing in my stomach. What would I do if I lost him?
Chapter 13
An hour later the doctor cleared Tracy to leave the hospital, but she was fuming at the news that Saito and most of his men had escaped Shannon’s second raid. The two men taken into custody refused to say a word, except to deny they knew anyone named Saito. Shannon hauled them down to the precinct to see what more he could extract.
“We should have shot them all at the warehouse,” Tracy muttered.
“Uh, we were rather busy trying not to get shot ourselves,” I reminded her. “Not all of us succeeded.”
She grimaced. “Poor Jon. Let’s check on him and Dennis and get out of here. If those officers haven’t called about Jake by then, we’ll go to Kolonda’s and investigate ourselves.”
Jon was in the ICU and not yet conscious, though his condition was stable. Tracy teared up at the news of her colleague. “He’ll be okay,” she said. “He’s a strong man, always a fighter.”
I hadn’t known Jon at all, but I felt Tracy’s concern. “I hope he will.”
Outside Dennis’s door stood a uniformed police officer, who let us in after verifying Tracy’s clearance. He frowned at my bare feet, but like all of the hospital personnel, he didn’t say anything—probably because I was with Tracy. Even without a uniform and her gun concealed, her every movement screamed detective.
Dennis was conscious and stable, though suffering from a bruised kidney and numerous broken bones. The medications he’d received made it hard for him to focus, but he gripped my hand and said, “Thanks for everything. I’d still be there if you hadn’t shown up.”
“So you owe me one.” I felt uncomfortable with his thanks since the real reason I’d gone was to find Jake.
“About my son,” he began.
I’d been giving that some thought, too, and Russo was once again my primary suspect. If I was right, Sawyer was safe for the moment—at least physically. The only thing that bugged me was Russo’s reaction when he’d heard the child was missing. Was he really that good an actor? Probably, but I saw no reason for him to go to such effort to act so convincingly when I had no proof and he could always deny everything to the police.
“You said at the warehouse you thought your cousin had him,” I said.
Dennis gave a short nod. “Has to be him. They want an heir, and if I’m not available, Sawyer will do. But I won’t let them have my little boy or allow him to be sucked into that life. I’ve been loyal to my family, even though I know they’ll never believe that. I’ve always known they’d see me dead if they found me and I refused to return to them. But I’ll tell the police everything I know before I’ll go with them or let them have Sawyer. It’s been years since I left, but I still know enough about their operation to make it worth the police hiding us. Not until Sawyer’s safely home, though. I want protection, a new identity. For all of us.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” I leaned on the edge of his bed, exhaustion creeping through my body. I needed protein or sleep—or both. “You’re sure Saito didn’t have Sawyer?”
“Saito would have used him against m
e.”
“What did Saito want from you?”
“Information.”
“About your family’s business? After five years?”
“Like I said, I still know plenty Saito or the cops could use, but that’s not why he’s after me.”
“Why, then?”
Dennis’s eyes dropped as he said quietly, “He wanted to know what happened to his son.”
“His son?”
“Yes.”
Dennis didn’t say more, and I looked at Tracy for help.
“Our information says that Saito’s oldest son went missing about six years ago,” Tracy said. “His body was never found. Because he was suspected of arms dealing and drug trafficking, he was on the police radar, but he simply vanished. Probably living it up in Europe.”
“No, he’s dead,” Dennis said. “Saito knew that already. He wanted justice—and he wanted to know where his son is buried.”
“And how would you know all that?” I asked.
Dennis’s jaw worked, and his eyes went from me to Tracy and back again, as though deciding if he should speak. His nostrils flared as he took a breath. “Because I killed him.” Dennis choked on the last word, and tears gathered in his eyes. “Well, Bart killed him, but I was there. I could have stopped him. It was my fault every bit as much as it was Bart’s. I helped him hide the body. Saito and his son were cutting into family profits, so we took out the son. He was a terrible man, but it wasn’t our job to decide his fate. He left behind two small sons. I couldn’t live with myself after that. His death haunted me. I decided that if I could ever find a way out, I’d take it.”
“Saito suspects you?”
“Bart told him we did it. Right before Saito killed him.”
“That meeting five years ago wasn’t for negotiation then?”
Dennis stared at the wall, his voice empty. “We were supposed to lure Saito there and get rid of him once and for all. I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t let Bart go by himself. He was so cocky because it was just us and Saito, and he’d already killed Saito’s son. But Saito was too fast. He shot Bart and then asked me where his son’s body was. He would have killed me, too, if it hadn’t been for the police sirens.” His voice grew higher and more agitated. “Saito was distracted, and I knocked his gun out of his hand and ran. He came after me. I tripped and fell, and I thought it was all over, but I guess he decided not to kill me before he knew for sure where we’d put his son. The police arrived, and he took off. I ran away, too—and kept running.”
“Your aunt helped you, didn’t she?”
Dennis’s eyes snapped back to mine. “How did you know?”
“From some things Nic Russo said about her, and Sophie told me you went to see an aunt once. I didn’t think you would have been able to hide so well without help.”
“She gave me money. Connected me with someone who could arrange a new identity. She hates the life as much as I did. She stayed all those years only because of me and Nic. Well, and fear of what my father—her brother—would do to her.”
“Does Russo know?”
He shook his head. “Definitely not.”
I remembered the affection Russo had displayed for his mother, and I wondered if she could intervene in Dennis’s situation now, perhaps mediate between him and her brother. Not likely if she was still trapped in the life she detested.
“They’ll try to kill me now,” Dennis said. “If they think I’ll say anything. Nic is loyal to my father. His own father disappeared when he was only a baby. He was always more my father’s son than I was.”
“Your father won’t just let you go?”
Dennis shook his head. “It’s all or nothing with the Franco family, but I can’t live that life.”
“Unless it’s for Sawyer.”
The pain in his face told me that was true. He wouldn’t abandon his son, and I knew Sophie wouldn’t either. They’d lost the chance to live their own lives.
“He’ll be coming to see me soon,” Dennis said.
Tracy and I shared a determined glance. “Don’t stop fighting yet,” Tracy told him. “Russo doesn’t know you’re alive. We’re keeping that under wraps for now.”
Dennis nodded, but we all knew that if Russo had Sawyer, it wouldn’t really matter. He would own Dennis, heart and soul.
We left Dennis’s room more depressed than when we entered. Tracy drew out her phone and began texting. “I have to let Shannon know what we’re up against.” She sighed. “He sure doesn’t seem the murdering type, does he?”
“Dennis? That’s because he’s not. You heard him—his brother dragged him into it. What choice did he have?”
“Good point. Hopefully the prosecution will see it that way.”
“If we don’t get him away from Russo, it won’t matter. The Franco family will have a team of top attorneys ready to defend him. He’ll never be allowed to testify, so it will be his attorneys’ denial against your testimony.”
“And yours.”
“Not if it’s to send Dennis to jail. I’m trying to save him, not throw him back into the bosom of his viperous family when he’s done everything he can to leave that life. The police need to find Sawyer so Russo has nothing to hold over Dennis. Then Dennis can pass along information—perhaps not even related to his family—that’ll be enough to cut a deal with the prosecution.”
Tracy nodded. “Could be the prosecution wouldn’t go after him anyway. Pretty hard to prove a murder with no body. No way his lawyers would allow him to give us that information.”
We were heading toward the elevator that led to the lobby, and though I was itching to find out about Jake, I forced myself to say, “We’re not going to check on Ace before we leave?”
Tracy snorted. “I don’t care about Ace. Besides, he’s too ornery to die.”
“What happened between him and Shannon, anyway?”
“You heard about that?”
“No. It’s the way they act. They work together, but they don’t seem to like each other at all.”
“It’s about a woman.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s always about a woman.”
“They fought over a woman? I find that hard to believe.”
“Me, too. Happened before I was out of school. She was a police officer, and she and Shannon dated for a while, but she quit to go into private detective work with Ace. He’d left the force a few years earlier and kept teasing her about joining him until finally she did. She was killed during one of their investigations.”
No wonder Shannon hated Ace. “Was she still seeing Shannon at the time?”
“On and off, I think. She liked Ace too. Believe it or not, he can be very charming.”
Creepy was more the word I’d use, with his odd, ever-present smile, but where women and men were concerned, sometimes it was impossible to understand attraction.
Despite my curiosity about Shannon’s love life, which was none of my business and therefore more interesting, I was only half listening by this time because a familiar chord of recognition was growing in my chest. I looked up to see Tawnia coming from the elevator. With her was Sophie, carrying baby Lizbeth.
“Autumn!” Tawnia was moving fast for a pregnant woman.
“Thank you so much!” Sophie threw herself at me, barely avoiding squishing Lizbeth between us. “I spoke to Dennis on the phone. He wasn’t making much sense, but he said you found him.”
“It’s true,” Tracy said. “Without Autumn, things might have ended very differently.”
“Are you okay?” Tawnia looked pointedly at the bandage on Tracy’s face. Now that I paid attention, Tracy appeared rather gruesome with dried blood staining her shirt.
“I’m fine. Just a few stitches,” Tracy said.
Tawnia rounded on me almost accusingly, her eyes taking
in my garbage-ruined shirt. I was glad I’d washed my hands, face, and even my feet in the hospital bathroom. “They said there was an explosion.”
“Yeah, uh, I had to make a distraction.” I could see my sister wanted to lecture me on putting myself in danger, but I was saved by Sophie’s next words.
“About my boy. Is there any word?”
Tracy shook her head. “Not yet, but we do have leads. Someone saw a black sedan leaving the area. We’re fairly confident that whoever took him didn’t intend to hurt him.”
“Dennis thinks it was his cousin,” I added.
“Cousin?” Sophie looked confused. “I don’t understand. Everyone keeps asking me about Dennis’s family, but he doesn’t have family, except that old aunt who died.”
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Dennis will explain.” It wasn’t going to be easy for him, telling his wife about his past life, and especially his part in a murder.
“Give your ID to the officer at the door,” Tracy told her. “You’re cleared to go in.” She looked at Tawnia. “Unfortunately, you aren’t unless an officer is in the room.”
Tawnia waved the words away. “I’ll be okay. I can hold Lizbeth in the hall.” She looked at me. “Are you really all right?”
I wanted to tell her about Jake getting mixed up in Kolonda’s apartment problems, but there wasn’t time. If I got started now, I’d be in no condition to search for Jake. “We’ll talk later,” I said to her. “Tracy and I have some wrapping up to do.”
“Wait.” Tawnia opened her purse and withdrew a tiny picture of the two of us, the one we’d taken together last year after she’d cut her hair so we could see how alike we looked. Except unlike the larger copy I kept in my apartment, this one she’d drawn herself, line after intricate line, using watercolor pencils to fill in the tiny bit of color. Removing the protective plastic sleeve, she placed it in my hand. Love flooded me as I took the drawing, so sweet and warm that it felt like honey on my tongue. Not so much a vision of a certain place and time, though I could clearly see Tawnia’s hands working over the page, but a constant, delicious feeling.
“Does it work?” she asked.