Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Aurora spent the next two days drifting in and out of sleep.
Lana ordered groceries and went down to the lobby to pick them up.
Every time Aurora woke, she found her friend in the kitchen, cooking up a storm.
All of Aurora’s go-to meals, like chicken breasts and tuna salad and vegetarian chili, even a dish of baked macaroni and cheese.
It was especially thoughtful, considering that Lana didn’t like to cook.
But finally, Lana had to return to the office.
She kissed Aurora goodbye on the cheek. “We’re getting everything ready to make the arrest. Max has been helping track Crane’s movements for us, so I’ll keep you posted.
You’ve got the police detail outside, keeping watch.
The officers were hand-picked by yours truly. ”
“Do they know I’m the witness to Wolfson’s murder?”
“No, only that there’s a potential threat to this building. We’re keeping the circle as tight as possible for as long as we can. But I left the number for police dispatch on the fridge; you call them if anything comes up.”
“I know.” She’d spoken to Max, too, and he’d promised he was giving the police the full support of his company, just as Lana had said. Max hadn’t mentioned the bodyguard again. Her brother was actually listening to her, giving her some space, and for that, Aurora was grateful.
“But remember,” Lana warned her, “after Crane and his men are arrested, we’ll have to move for the court to unseal the complaints.
That means your identity as the witness will be revealed.
We’re going to delay as long as we can, since today is Sunday.
But as soon as tomorrow, we won’t be able to keep your identity secret anymore. So stay safe. Stay here.”
“I’ve got it.” She’d already been thinking about that. Aurora took a deep breath.
“Love you.” Lana touched her cheek.
“Love you, too.”
She left, and Aurora locked the door.
The penthouse level was too quiet. She hadn’t heard a peep coming from next door.
Rick Harrison hadn’t shown himself again, not since Aurora left the muffin on his doorstep.
She could only assume that she’d smoothed things over with him.
She didn’t like the guy, but she’d had to admit—after Lana made several highly reasonable arguments—that the man wasn’t so bad as a neighbor.
If she had anything heavy to lift, he’d be able to handle it.
And she could watch his muscles work again.
She remembered the flex of his biceps. That mysterious tattoo. The memory almost made her search for an excuse to ask him over.
Almost.
Later that morning, Aurora got a text from Lana.
Turn on Channel 3 News. It’s happening.
She switched on the TV.
“—who I’m told has an update for us,” the news anchor was saying. “Mary?”
The view switched to a reporter, who held a microphone at the edge of a crowd. “We’ve just received word that Dominic Crane, a Los Angeles club promoter, has been arrested for the recent murder of local business owner Brandon Wolfson.”
Aurora recognized the building behind the reporter: the West Oaks Police headquarters, just a couple of blocks away from Aurora’s apartment.
“We expect Crane to arrive here in custody any minute. While Crane claims to run a legitimate business, he’s previously been accused of money laundering, wire fraud, and criminal conspiracy.
Up until now, he’s been cleared of any wrongdoing.
He’s the younger brother of Warren Crane, the alleged head of the notorious Silverlake Syndicate, which has been active in the Los Angeles area for decades.
Warren Crane is now behind bars at San Quentin Federal Penitentiary for tax evasion. ”
Aurora covered her mouth. Cold sweat ran down her sides. Lana had said something about Dominic Crane being a crime boss, but hearing the details made it all seem more real.
She still didn’t understand why he’d want to go after Wolfson. What was it Crane had said?
You didn’t just steal from me. You took my money and started a little business on the side.
Aurora had told Lana and the DA everything that Crane said. But they hadn’t explained what any of it meant. Wolfson couldn’t have been involved with some crime syndicate, could he?
Lana was at the district attorney’s office right now, working hard on the case against Crane. And Max was probably at Bennett Security headquarters, consulting with his own investigators or conferencing in with police detectives.
And what am I doing? Aurora asked herself. Hiding in my house. Just like I was hiding when those men killed Brandon Wolfson.
She looked around at the penthouse apartment. Even after her recent redecorating, it still felt more like a hotel room than her home. That restless feeling was itching at her skin again. Like some unseen attacker was stalking her. Running her to ground.
She knew exactly what it was—fear. If she stayed trapped in this apartment, the fear she’d been avoiding for the last several days would crash down on her and swallow her whole.
On the TV, the reporter said, “I have confirmation that Crane and two of his associates are now in custody. Crane is in a squad car, being transferred as we speak to the West Oaks Police Department, where he’ll be booked and processed for holding.
I’m told they’ve added extra security because of Mr. Crane’s high profile.
In just a few minutes, we should see the motorcade entering this driveway. We should be able to catch a glimpse.”
Soon, Crane and his men would be officially booked. Lana might have to release those court documents tomorrow. Then everyone would find out Aurora was the witness. She had a time-bomb strapped around her, a clock ticking down her last few hours of being able to leave this place.
Aurora grabbed a windbreaker and baseball cap from the hall closet. Her keys and phone dropped into her pocket. Then she was out the door.
She jogged past the squad car, trying to act natural. Lana had said the officer didn’t know she was the witness. And thankfully, the officer didn’t show any interest. She was just another resident.
The outside air was cool, smelling of the ocean. She was out. Finally, she could breathe.
She could already see the crowd gathered at the police station down the street.
She kept her hat pulled down, though she couldn’t imagine that anyone would be looking for her yet.
Everyone probably had their eyes on the news vans and reporters, who were swarming all over the sidewalk and into the street.
She just hoped that she wasn’t too late.
Aurora watched for the Channel 3 sign. She spotted the reporter she had seen on television and got as close as she could to the woman. The other people on the curb jostled her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, scanning to her left and right.
Aurora was shocked by the size of the crowd. But West Oaks almost never had murders. Certainly not murders of wealthy men by LA organized criminals. Around here, this was a very big deal.
She couldn’t help thinking about everything Lana and Max had said about the dangers she could face as a witness. But she was standing right in front of the police department, in front of at least a dozen cameras.
I’m safe, she repeated to herself. I’m fine. Nobody knows me here.
And she did feel like a bit of a badass for venturing out. She wasn’t hiding anymore, and just that small victory had done a lot for her mood.
She wanted to see Dominic Crane in handcuffs and surrounded by police. That man and his henchmen had been haunting her dreams for the last several days. From everything Lana had said, this process could stretch out for weeks or months. Maybe even longer. But Aurora refused to live in fear.
Crane was the one who should be a prisoner, not her.
There was a flurry of activity on the street that ran along the far side of the police department building.
A siren whooped, and a whole line of police cars came into view.
“This is it,” someone shouted. People started running and pushing for a better view, while officers held them back.
She could see the mouths of the reporters moving, though she couldn’t hear them.
A tingle ran across the back of her neck. She spun around, feeling watched. But she couldn’t spot anyone who seemed out of the ordinary. Her eyes met different people in the crowd, but she didn’t recognize anyone.
Don’t be paranoid, she told herself. You’re okay.
The first car rolled into the driveway behind the police department building, where the jail was located. She saw two people in suits sitting in the front seat. Then several more cars that held uniformed officers.
And then, smack dab in the middle, she caught sight of Dominic Crane. His dark hair falling past his chin, his large, elegant features. The man looked completely calm, as if he were being chauffeured to the airport and not heading in to be booked and charged.
This was the man who’d ordered the death of Brandon Wolfson. Aurora felt a surge of nerves.
After that, more cars pulled into the driveway, but Aurora got pushed out of position and couldn’t see who else might be sitting inside them. By the time she got back to a good vantage point, the line of cars had all pulled in, and police officers were clearing the crowd.
Aurora followed along with the other people as they began to move down the block. She still had that uncomfortable feeling that someone was studying her.
She glanced across the street, and that was when she saw him.
There was a man staring straight at her.
She’d never seen him before. He was generic in every way, almost hard to describe. But his gaze didn’t waver from hers, and she felt his animosity. Panic sent her heart up to her throat.
He took a step into the street. He was coming toward her.
She turned and ran, searching for some way to escape. Suddenly, the crowd had dissipated, and she’d ended up at least half a block away from the police department entrance, no officer in sight.
No, no, no. I never should’ve left the apartment. She took off down the sidewalk, heading back toward the police headquarters. Then someone stepped into her path. She nearly screamed, raising her hands to defend herself.
It was her neighbor. Rick Harrison.
“What are you doing here?” she sputtered.
He was out of breath, his expression full of concern. “Just out for a jog. What’s the matter?”
For a split second, she wondered how he knew that something might be wrong. But she figured she must’ve looked terrified.
“There was a man. I thought…he might be following me.”
But when she turned to look, the man was gone. She scanned the street, but there was no sign of him.
Rick’s hand closed over her elbow, pulling her toward him protectively. And she didn’t even mind. She was glad to have him beside her. His stoic demeanor—and his muscles—were just what she needed right now.
“What did this man look like?”
“Never mind. He’s not here anymore.”
Was this like seeing the gun in Rick’s hand the other day? Just her imagination running wild? She had no clue.
Lana would no doubt tell her this had been a very dumb idea. And it certainly hadn’t gone the way she had hoped. She had felt pure terror when that man crossed the street, coming toward her.
But then, she tried to reason with herself. How would a random man know that she was the witness to Wolfson’s murder? And even if he did somehow know, how’d he guess that she’d be at the police department today?
Just in case, she was going to text Lana and tell her what she’d seen. If that guy was actually after her, she wanted to make sure that the police and the district attorney knew. But there was no point in freaking out about it now.
She just wanted to get back home.
“You okay?” Rick asked. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Would you mind walking me home? I’m ready to go back now.”