Chapter 9
Harley set aside the audit for Ray and logged into her personal laptop to the files pertaining to the Crossley case, and began reading through it again, wondering if enough time had passed that she’d spot something she’d missed.
About four hours in, she was looking at the paperwork with Wilhem’s forged signature. After finding out the accountant was a major link in hiding money, they had assumed he’d done it, but he’d never had a chance to make a full statement because his lawyer had been waiting to see what deal he could make for Paget’s testimony.
Harley’s mind was racing. Who else would have been close enough within the organization to have had immediate access to Wilhem’s business? She shoved the laptop back in disgust and got up, muttering to herself as she opened the sliders to the freezing air. The cold felt good on her heated face, and standing in the dark gave her a false sensation of security. But within seconds, she realized how vulnerable she was, silhouetted against the light behind her, and hurried back inside, locked the sliders, and pulled the drapes over them.
All it would take was a sniper with a zoom scope on a high-velocity rifle, and she’d drop, just like the others. The worst-case scenario to her occupation was really happening.
Why did I assume the feds would dig further? I gave them the whole setup. I gave them the location and access to the gang. They freed the women and children who’d been kidnapped. It was a feather in someone’s cap. Maybe they didn’t want to dig any further, or maybe they were still investigating and that’s why the agent was murdered. And now here we are… God! I knew better!
Frustration gave way to fear, and fear to tears. When the knock sounded at her door, she jumped a foot, and then remembered she had asked Brendan to come by. Now she was worrying about even mentioning it and getting him involved, then rolled her eyes. She’d already involved everyone by coming here. She swiped the tears from her cheeks, peered through the peephole, then opened the door.
Before she could say a word, Brendan saw she’d been crying and didn’t wait to be invited inside. He walked in, kicked the door shut behind him, and then gently grasped her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
It was the set of his jaw and the flash of fire in his eyes that set her course.
“I think there’s a hit man on my tail.”
A blood rush of shock, then anger rolled through him. He took her hand led her to the sofa. “Sit. Talk.”
She nodded, took a shaky breath, and spilled the whole story, right down to the text she’d just received from Wilhem Crossley.
“I’ve been debating with myself all afternoon as to whether I stay here and unintentionally cause someone else to come to harm, or leave and have the hit man wind up here and start killing people in an effort to find out where I went. This is a nightmare,” she said, and in frustration, shoved her fingers through her hair.
“You don’t run,” Brendan said. “Whatever is coming needs to end here.”
“That’s my first instinct, too, but I need to let the police here know the possibilities. I don’t know if they’re equipped to deal with something like this.”
“They took down their own human trafficking ring a few years back. They’ve solved murders. Solved a theft that originated from the Library of Congress in DC. Caught murderers who trailed their victims to this place. Do you remember when Wolfgang Outen supposedly died in a chopper crash?”
She nodded.
“That crash happened here. And to make a long story short, a daughter Wolfgang never knew he had was living here. During that long, complicated investigation, the Jubilee police, including my brothers, were assisting the FBI and the FAA. My brother Sean took a bullet meant for Wolfgang’s daughter and nearly died.”
“Okay, I’m convinced,” Harley said. “Does his daughter still live here?”
“Yes, she’s a CPA. She has an office downtown next to the bank, but she lives up on the mountain with my mom.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because Sean married her. They were already planning the wedding when she found out she had a father. Getting shot didn’t change a thing.”
Harley sighed. “I am scared to death of something happening to you because of me, but I don’t think I have any other options here.”
“Will you let me help you?” he asked.
She was still locked into his steadfast gaze when he held out his hand. Without saying a word, she grasped it.
“I’ll talk to both brothers tonight. They’ll talk to Chief Warren, and then they’ll likely need to talk to you. But I’m guessing the fewer people who even know you’re here, the better, so I’ll see if they’re willing to come to you.”
Harley curled her fingers around his. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Order everything from room service. Don’t leave your room until we work out some kind of guard situation.”
“This is crazy. I don’t even know who to guard against.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Brendan said. “I’ll talk to Cameron. His wife, Rusty, was an undercover agent for the FBI. Even though she quit the force after they got married, she might still have some contacts.”
“Jubilee is a deceitful little place. It looks so picturesque and innocent,” she said.
“There is no innocence left in this world,” Brendan muttered. “Popes don’t run from trouble, and we take care of our own. Have you eaten anything?”
“No, I don’t think I can’t face—”
“Give me a sec,” he said, took out his phone and sent a text. “Now, last night I gave you a Cliffs Notes version of the origin of my people. It’s your turn. Tell me about your family.”
“You don’t want—”
He put a finger over her lips. “Oh, but I do.”
She scooted back to the corner of the sofa and, like last night, turned to face him, curled her legs up under her, and started talking.
“I am an only child and a huge disappointment to my parents. I was born with this face, which pleased my mother, and born with my father’s intelligence, which pleased him to no end. But when I began to follow my own path instead of what they wanted of me, they let me know how I was wasting my life, and their continued dismay exists to this day.”
“Who are they? Where do they live?” Brendan asked.
“Jason Banks, NASA scientist. At present in Houston, working on another ‘secret’ something or other. Judith Henry Banks, well-known American playwright and screenwriter. They live in New York City, also in an apartment in Houston, sometimes in a villa in the south of France, and at the vineyard they own in Calabria, Italy. At the present, Mother is at the villa. She belittles my work because it’s so ugly and constantly reminds me how the work demeans me, because I’m basically digging criminals out of their hiding places.”
“At the risk of criticizing people I don’t know, I’d say your parents are very shortsighted. My mother, Shirley, on the other hand, was, and still is, our biggest cheerleader. Actually, it’s our mother who is the Pope. My father’s name is Clyde Wallace. He was a drug user and a drunk who beat the hell out of all of us from the day we could walk and nearly killed our mother. He’s doing life for murdering two people while he was high. We changed our last name to Mom’s maiden name to get away from the shame of him. Mom inherited her family home after her mother passed away. We came home to the mountain. It saved us all.”
He paused, suddenly lost in the past.
Harley had been watching the expressions changing on his face and hearing the tone of his voice shift in and out of anger. They were barely past the total-stranger stage, but every time she saw him, he pulled her deeper into a world she barely understood. Then all of a sudden, he looked up, as if remembering where he was, and turned to face her.
“We all have shit to deal with in life. The lucky ones are people like us, who have found our calling. Your job is an invaluable tool. All I do is fill people’s bellies, but at the same time, I’m giving them a piece of me. I share my skills with the world, just as you do. But the last few months with Ray gone have been hell here, and I was thinking of quitting to get away from the chaos. I’m really glad now that I did not.”
Harley sighed. He did it! He told me. It couldn’t have been easy for him to admit all that, but he never blinked, never wavered, never apologized, because he had nothing to apologize for. God, please don’t let me get killed. I want to know this man.
“I’m glad you didn’t quit, too,” she said, but before she could say more, there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get that. It should be supper,” he said, and unfolded himself from the sofa and headed for the door, checked the peephole, and then opened the door.
Aaron walked in carrying two bags from Granny’s Country Kitchen.
Harley saw the man, then the face, and was on her feet in seconds. There was no mistaking who it was. Another brother!
Brendan escorted him in, talking as they walked. “Aaron, come meet Harley. Harley, this is my oldest brother, Aaron Pope. Aaron, this is Harley Banks. Ray hired her to audit the hotel. He’s thinking of selling.”
Aaron was all smiles as he handed Brendan the bags and went straight to Harley with his hand outstretched. “It’s a pleasure.”
Brendan put the bags on the table. “I also told him you have a problem you need to discuss with the police.”
“We’re always happy to assist in any way we can. What would be the nature of your problem?” Aaron asked.
“I’m pretty sure someone from the last case I just worked has sent a hit man to take me out. I got a warning today from the last man I worked for. Two people related to the crime I uncovered are dead. One was an informant, the other a federal agent who worked the case of criminal activities I uncovered in my job, and the warehouse where the crimes took place burned down today.”
Aaron’s eyebrows rose slightly, but that was the only indication he gave of the surprise. “You must be some kind of special CPA.”
“I also have a PI license and specialize in rooting out corporate crime, but that’s for us to know and no one else to find out. Okay?”
“Understood. Okay…so I’m going to leave you two to your dinner. BJ, I’ll talk to the chief tomorrow morning first thing and fill Wiley in as well, because…family.”
Brendan pulled a pair of twenties from his wallet and handed them to Aaron. “Thanks for the delivery.”
“Keep your money,” Aaron said. “This is on me.”
“Nope. I might want you to do this again sometime,” Brendan said.
Aaron grinned. “When they were passing out subtlety, you thought they said soup and were waiting in line for seconds,” he said, but he took the money, then gave Brendan a quick hug. “You be careful. And you take good care of Miss Harley. She reminds me of Mama when she was young. All spit and fire and stood her ground regardless. You wouldn’t remember her that way.”
Brendan nodded. “Thanks again, Aaron.”
“Follow me out. Turn the dead bolt after I leave,” Aaron said.
Harley had never in her life felt tiny until these two men walked into her space. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have people like this at her back, and after knowing all she did about this family, she silently accepted being compared to their mother in any way as a compliment.
Then Brendan came back and began taking out all of the to-go boxes from the bags, and Harley followed, opening cartons he handed her, licking gravy off her finger, and watching the way his eyebrows knit as he eyed the preparation and wondered if he was thinking he would have done it different, or better.
Then he caught her staring, winked, and handed her a fork.
Harley grinned. “Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it? So, meow, and all that. He called you, BJ. What’s that stand for?” she asked.
He laughed. Her sense of humor was delightful. “Brendan James, but the family has always called me BJ.”
“I see we’re having fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, some kind of casserole, and corn bread. Looks good. Smells even better,” she said.
“It’s sweet corn casserole with onions and red and green bell peppers. City girl, meet country boy. Dinner is served.”
She pulled out a chair and sat. “Why the change from BJ to Brendan?”
He was at the end of the table. More room for long legs. He pulled out a handful of paper napkins and handed half of them to her.
“You’re gonna need these, and don’t you dare try to eat fried chicken with a fork. Use your fingers. As for the name change, I’m Brendan at work, but growing up at home, the only times I heard Brendan James come out of my mom’s mouth was for leaving wet towels all over the bathroom floor. I have since evolved.”
She laughed. “Brendan fits you. I’ll stick with that,” she said, then picked up a piece of chicken and took a bite. It tasted good. Maybe it was the company she had, she thought, and kept eating.
Her laugh went straight to Brendan’s heart. He wanted to hear it again, but he’d settle for fried chicken. He was starving.
They ate and talked and traded stories about their jobs, then it morphed to personal questions.
“Ever been married?” he asked.
Harley shook her head. “Not even close. A couple of relationships in college. The nature of my work does not encourage relationships. What about you?”
“No engagements. No marriage. Dated some when I was in high school, but then Clyde ended all that, and after I went to the Culinary Institute in New York to study, there was no time for anything but work and more work. I want what my brothers have. A forever wife who will love Jubilee and Pope Mountain as much as the rest of us do. I’ve lived in cities and traveled some in Europe, working my way through other restaurants, and what I learned I brought home.
“I was working in big restaurants in New York, and for a while it was exciting, but it got really old spending holidays alone, feeding other people who were celebrating, then going to a twelve-by-twelve-foot apartment and trying to sleep with a feuding couple across the hall, a family with a dog to the left, and a violinist in the apartment to the right of me who was constantly practicing. Coming back to Pope Mountain was inevitable. Family means everything to us.”
Harley heard the loneliness and knew exactly what he meant about going home alone. Even after all these years, laughing alone at something on TV made her feel even lonelier. Holidays were depressing. No social circle meant no hosting game nights or dinner parties.
Some days she just wished for a simple hug. A human touch. Someone who cared if she slammed a door on her finger. Someone to curl up against in bed on a cold Chicago night.
She listened to the rumble of his voice in silence. It was deep and a little raspy, and she thought about what it would be like to love someone this rooted to where he lived. He’d already seen the world in which she’d grown up and rejected it. She wondered if she’d ever fit into a world like this.
Meeting Brendan Pope had been a game changer. She’d never considered changing her lifestyle until now, and he might never see her beyond being another woman causing trouble in his life. But she wanted him to. She didn’t know how to say, “Let that forever woman be me,” to a man she barely knew, so she changed the subject.
“I always wished for siblings and envied people with big families. You know, the generational holiday get-togethers with grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, and all kinds of nieces and nephews. Do any of your brothers have children?” she asked.
“Our family gatherings are huge. When it’s an all-mountain gathering, we have it at the Church in the Wildwood. It’s near the top of Pope Mountain. My brothers don’t have children, but my cousin Cameron does, and my brother Wiley is raising our little half-sister, Ava. We didn’t even know she existed until one of Clyde’s old girlfriends showed up and basically gave her away to us. She was a tiny, undernourished five-year-old who was afraid of almost everything and thought if she stayed still enough, she could make herself disappear. Something clicked between her and Wiley, and long story short, we’re all her brothers, but Wiley became her legal guardian. She wanted to call him Daddy, but they settled for Bubba. He is her world. Mom fell in love with her. Ava calls her Grandma, so she already has one grandchild. It’s not by blood, but of the heart.”
“That’s so special,” Harley said, thinking of the children who’d been rescued from the trafficking ring she’d exposed. “I think Ava had a guardian angel. Most children don’t escape that kind of life. Children were some of the hostages who were rescued in my last case. God only knows how much money my meddling cost someone, and it’s likely why someone wants me dead. Payback.”
Brendan reached out and covered her hand with his.
Harley looked up.
“I won’t let that happen,” he said.
“Neither will I if I see him coming. Beyond the fact that I own a gun and have a license to carry, I can’t protect myself if my enemy has no face.”
Brendan gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got your back. Just remember that. Are you afraid to be here tonight on your own?”
“No. Dead bolt. Safety chain. Eighth floor. Big-ass gun.”
He threw back his head and laughed, and laughed. “God, woman, you sound like a Pope. Takes no guff. Also takes no prisoners.”
Harley grinned. Her family didn’t approve of her. And they’d hate this whole lifestyle. But it was growing on her, and so was he. She got up and started gathering up their trash, and with his help, soon had everything bagged and cleaned when he got ready to leave.
“I’ll dump the trash on my way down,” he said as he was putting on his coat. “Aaron will talk to Wiley and to Chief Warren tomorrow. They’ll get in touch with you, so you just do your thing. Focus on what you came here to do and trust us to keep you safe.”
She nodded. “I won’t go anywhere, but I am going to figure out who wants me dead.”
***
Karen Beaumont did not regret paying off Justine’s debt to get her out of jail, but without the ensuing three months of alimony, they would be skimping to get by. However, skimping was not part of Justine’s world, and she was about to burst the bubble of her mama’s sense of self-sacrifice.
Justine was happy to be in Dallas. Even if she was back under the same roof as her mother, it was better than Jubilee.
It was their third day back, and after 10:00 a.m. before she got out of bed. When she went to shower, she discovered her favorite shampoo bottle was empty. She gave it a toss in the trash and went to look for her mother, then found her in the utility room, putting wet clothes into the dryer.
“Mom, I need to borrow your car. I’m out of my shampoo,” Justine said.
“You’ll have to use my shampoo. It’s on a shelf in my shower. Help yourself,” Karen said.
Justine stared. “I don’t use that kind. I want my kind. It makes my hair silkier.”
“Your kind costs over twenty dollars a bottle. Do you have money?” Karen asked.
Justine frowned. “You know I don’t. Daddy cut off my allowance!”
“And my alimony has been cut off for the next three months because of you, so there’s nothing for extras. I’m going to start back as a hostess at the steak house I used to work at. We’ll be lucky to get the rent and bills paid,” she said. “Besides, aren’t you a little embarrassed to assume that at your age, you’re still due an allowance?”
“Don’t you start!” Justine whined. “You sound just like Dad.”
Karen rolled her eyes, hit the Start button on the dryer, and started to walk past her, when Justine grabbed her by the arm and yanked her around.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” she hissed.
Karen froze, so shocked by the assault that there was a moment when she was actually afraid. And then her eyes narrowed. She looked down at the hand gripping her arm, and then back up at Justine.
“Take your hand off me,” Karen said.
Justine glared.
“NOW!” Karen screamed.
Justine stumbled backward, tripped on an empty laundry basket, and then fell into it.
“You pushed me!” Justine shrieked.
“I never touched you and you know it, but next time I will,” Karen muttered. “I’m not the easy touch your father was.” Then she bent down, until her face was only inches away from her daughter’s, and the tone of her voice shifted from bored to menacing so fast Justine forgot to breathe. “I was mean and badass before you were even a thought in the universe, and I will put you out of my house in two seconds flat if you ever act like this again. Do. We. Understand. Each. Other?”
Justine nodded.
Karen started to walk off and then stopped and turned. “Get out of my laundry basket before you break it,” she snapped, and strode out of the room with her chin up and her hands curled into fists.
Justine got up, went to get her mother’s shampoo, and disappeared into her room. Her heart was pounding, and she was slightly sick to her stomach. She’d seen this side of her mother, but it had always been directed at her father, never toward her. Until now.
She had to rethink her situation. She needed money to get away from here, but even if she had it, she had nowhere to go. The obvious answer to her future was out there. She just had to figure out how to find it.
***
Ollie Prine had been in Chicago far longer than he’d planned, and now he was waiting on a scrawny, pencil-neck twenty-year-old for answers. It was driving him crazy. He hadn’t heard from Thor in almost thirty-six hours and was beginning to think this was going to be a bust when the kid finally called.
Ollie answered on the first ring.
“Yeah? Did you get it?”
“Yes. She’s living in an apartment in the South Loop. High-end living. One thousand now, and then I will send you the info. I’ll text you my Venmo addy.”
Before Ollie could say a word, Thor disconnected.
Ollie ended the call and waited. The text came a minute later. Ollie immediately complied, hit Send, and then waited again, knowing Thor wouldn’t respond until he’d received the money and banked it, but Ollie’s relief was at an all-time high.
A few minutes later he got the text with the info, grabbed his coat and the package he’d already prepared, and headed out the door to make a delivery. He’d rented a car and had all the technology to make himself look like a delivery man, including the label scanner that required a signature to accept. He had the address and the apartment number. His only drawback might be if there was security in the lobby, but he’d deal with that if it happened.
If he couldn’t gain access to her apartment, he’d be on a stakeout again, waiting for her to leave the building. He hurried to the parking garage to get his car, entered the address in his GPS, and was soon on the way to pay a visit to Harley Banks.
Ollie felt good about this as he wound his way through the Chicago streets. He wanted this over with, and even more, he intended to end his association with Berlin when this job was done. A warmer climate was calling. He could almost hear it.
Thirty minutes later, he arrived at the location, parked in an area marked Delivery, patted the shoulder holster inside his coat to make sure the gun was still secure, checked to see if his cap was on straight, and then exited the car.
The building was imposing. The lobby was opulent. And the information desk in the center of the room was manned by an armed guard, which may or may not put a kink in his plan. He approached the desk, glanced at the name on the package, then looked up at the guard.
“Special delivery for Harley Banks.”
“You can leave it with me. I’ll see that she gets it,” the guard said.
“She has to sign for it,” Ollie said.
The guard shook his head. “Sorry, but she’s away on business. We’re authorized to sign packages for her in such cases.”
Ollie stifled a groan. Not again! “Then do you have a forwarding address?”
“No. Sorry,” the guard said.
Ollie shrugged and walked out, got in the car, and began pounding his fists on the steering wheel until the knuckles were red, then called Berlin. It went to voicemail.
It’s me. Harley Banks’s apartment IS in Chicago, but she’s not there. She’s a damn ghost. I’m not a hacker. I can’t check travel schedules. I don’t know where she’s gone, and I’m coming back to Philly to await new orders.
Ollie went back to his motel room, bought a ticket for the next flight to Philadelphia, then packed and checked out. The flight left in a few hours, but he was going to the airport now. At least he could walk around without freezing, get some food to eat, and wait there.
***
By the time Berlin heard the message, Ollie was already in the air. Berlin knew he could just let it go. Paget’s death was blamed on an inmate and already forgotten, and the feds were sifting through eighteen years’ worth of criminals the dead agent had helped put away. He reasoned that they couldn’t find someone they didn’t even know existed. But it rankled. He’d been bested by a woman. A really smart woman. And that didn’t feel safe.