Two #5
“I would think so. I mean, for sure somebody bigger than his old boss in Vegas, yeah. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“The boss in Vegas—did anyone ever question him?” I was trying to put pieces together in my head.
“He turned up dead two weeks after Turner went missing.”
“So, technically, there’s no one Turner would be running from?”
“Except that he’s still considered an escaped witness until he turns himself in and clears everything up,” Sam explained, his voice low and gravelly.
“His new identity never went live, so he’s still running around, being Andrew Turner.
If anyone discovers his identity, runs him through the system, his exact whereabouts will become clear, and marshals will show up wherever he is. ”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“So, you think he’s living happily ever after in Phoenix on whoever’s bankroll, blackmailing them?”
“That’s my guess, yeah.”
“God, that takes balls.”
“Yes, it does,” he agreed.
“Okay, so what’s your plan? When we’re in Phoenix, you’re gonna pop in on your buddy Mr. Turner and bring him back?”
“If my information is right, then basically … yes.”
“Is it dangerous?” I was checking because that fast, I was worried.
“I won’t know until I get there.” He sighed, taking hold of my hand.
It was funny because everyone who knew Sam—his parents, siblings, friends, people he worked with—they all saw a different man from the one who sat in front of me now. Only with me and the kids did he hug and kiss and take comfort in the simple act of touching.
“Jory?”
“So, if it comes out that one or all of the marshals in Vegas are dirty, what happens then?”
“It’s federal prison for them.”
“Don’t you think they might want to hurt you to keep that from happening?”
“In theory.”
“No, not in theory, in real life.”
“Except that I don’t think all those marshals are dirty. Maybe one, but not all.”
“But if the one dirty one finds out you’re onto him, he’ll try and stop you.”
“Possibly.” He shrugged.
“Possibly? Sam?”
“Likely, then,” he offered, smiling at me.
“There are an awful lot of questions that need answering.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And so?” I pressed him.
“So, I have a video conference in an hour with my boss, and I’m gonna tell him what I’m gonna do, and he’s gonna advise me, and we’ll go from there.”
“You trust your boss, Sam?”
“I do.”
“Okay, so when we’re in Phoenix at the reunion, will you be working?”
“I don’t know yet. If they want me to approach Turner, then yes. If not, then no.”
“When will you know?”
“I have no idea, but as soon as I get word, I’ll tell you.”
I nodded.
“Don’t look so sad,” he said softly, putting a hand on my cheek. “I’ll be around.”
“And you won’t be in any danger.”
“I can’t promise that. You know better.”
“Okay.”
He gave me a gentle pat and then got up, took his wallet out of his back pocket, and removed the card that the officer had given him at the hospital.
“So, it turns out, you’re gonna have to deal with your van, just like you wanted to. I can drop you off on the way, or you can get a cab. What do you wanna do?”
“I’ll cab it,” I said after I looked at the card and saw the address. “Your office is in the complete opposite direction.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll meet you at your folks’ place at six.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He smiled at me before he bent to kiss me.
Alone in the house ten minutes later, I called him quickly because I had forgotten to ask about the Petersons.
“Yeah.” He cackled evilly on the other end. “The bad guy in that scenario is Mrs. Peterson. She was the one having the affair, and that baby she’s carrying now is not Mr. Peterson’s since he had a vasectomy after the birth of their second child.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yep. You chose the wrong bad guy.”
“Which never happens. I’m usually right.”
“I don’t know about that,” he teased me.
“So what are they going to do?”
“Well, he gets to keep his kids, and she is going to live with her boyfriend in Park Ridge.”
“So, she’s just leaving her kids?”
“That’s what I was told, yes.”
“And Mr. Peterson?”
“His mother’s moving in.”
“That’s kind of nice.”
“You and Mrs. Martinez and all the other harpies on the block had better go make nice. Make the man a casserole, J. Invite him over for dinner. You owe him.”
“I thought—”
He grunted, cutting me off. “You’re a crappy judge of character, you know that.”
I did know. “I’m not a harpy.”
“No, you’re not. I apologize. You’re much too cute.”
I growled, and his rumbling laughter sounded good.
“Listen, once the cops are all gone—”
“Why were there cops to begin with?”
“Mrs. Peterson’s boyfriend came over to get her, and she wanted to take the other kids too.”
“Mr. Peterson wasn’t letting his kids go with them, I’m guessing.”
“Hell no. I wouldn’t have either. A man doesn’t let anyone take his children from him, especially not a cheating piece of crap.”
“I’ll remember that if I ever have an affair.”
His grunt made me smile. “Never gonna happen, J. You’re addicted to me.”
Yes, I was.
“I’m the only man for you.”
“You’re very conceited.”
“I am very loved.” He sighed.
“Yes, you are.”
There was a very smug male grunt before he hung up.