Chapter 8
Colin and Gwen were in Colin’s dining room, the large rectangular table covered in stacks and piles of papers. “That's the last of the court transcripts,” said Gwen, closing a binder and putting it aside.
“Find anything?”
“Three Michaels are mentioned. Michael Gallente was sentenced to three consecutive life terms based on Ahearn's testimony. Michael Hendrickson was one of the kills ordered by Ahearn in the year before he turned, and Michael Dobbs was one of the defense attorneys for Leveen.”
Marc Leveen was the biggest fish Ahearn netted when he testified for the feds, and the second in command of the crime ring at the time.
He was the enforcer, determining the punishments for infractions for the organization.
Jerry Ahearn was Leveen's right-hand man, seeing that all of his boss's bidding went down smoothly.
“Doesn't sound like any of those could be our guy. Maybe a son with the same first name, but no direct link. I wish I knew where the hell Ahearn is. He's the one who could shed some light on who Michael might be.”
“Your boss didn't know?”
He shrugged. “Walker heard Ahearn was back in Boston, up to his old tricks.”
“I thought his old friends wanted him dead for testifying against their members.”
“Things change. When Leveen went down there was a shift of power. Then Manning died of natural causes. Who knows who's in charge today, and how they feel about Jerry Ahearn?”
“That's true.” She gestured to the papers in front of him. “Did you find anything?”
While Gwen had been going through court documents, Colin had been reading all the WITSEC files on Jerry Ahearn and his family. “One thing struck me as odd. Ahearn requested a placement in the southwest, not the northeast.”
“He probably wanted to get as far away as possible.”
Colin nodded. “I'm sure. But we try to honor requests like that. It doesn't make a difference to us one way or another.”
“That is strange.”
“And the coroner's report on Adele Ahearn shows she was almost two months pregnant when she was killed.”
Gwen cringed. “Oh, that's awful.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “I'm getting a glass of wine. Would you like one?”
“Yes, please.” Colin picked up his phone. “I still haven't heard back from Officer McDonald in Vermont.”
She spoke from the kitchen. “When did you call him?”
“On my way back from the city.” He scrolled through his messages, finding nothing from the sheriff. “Did you know him?”
“Sort of. He was in office most of the time I lived there, and it's a small town. We nodded to each other on the street, that sort of thing.” She handed Colin his wine.
“Did David know him?”
Gwen thought about that. “Yes, I suppose he did. I wouldn't say they were friends, but I did see them talking a time or two.” She shimmied her shoulders. “Something about McDonald always rubbed me the wrong way.”
“Like, how?”
“Oh, nothing horrible, I don't believe. I just chalked it up to him being a politician.” In her mind's eye, Gwen could remember the sheriff and the cool exchanges he sometimes shared with her husband. “Did McDonald know David was in WITSEC?”
“He shouldn't have. The Cold Spring authorities would have been notified because of Jerry, but by the time David moved to Vermont his father was long gone. I need to talk to Jerry,” he said, letting his pen drop to his yellow lined legal pad.
“Do you think we can find him?”
“I think we're going to have to try.”
Gwen nodded. “We'll leave in the morning?”
“I don't see why not.”