Double-Crossed Page 12

  Brinley paled and she took a deep, shuddering breath. “They killed Amelia? She was only two.”

  “Now there’s only one problem left, and once you’re out the door, you’ll be somebody else’s contract.” She stood still a minute longer before she pointed to the keys. “Go on, and before you get any ideas about going to the cops and bringing them here, you’ll never find me again, or anything that’ll lead them to me.”

  “Dean Jasper gave Naomi and me that assignment and said it was ordered by management. I guess it was that guy Wallace you mentioned,” Brinley said, gripping the table as if she’d fly away if she let go. “After a couple of days, I dug deeper because the numbers didn’t make sense. Naomi agreed and was always worried about us being overheard. My mom confirmed and backed up what I thought.”

  Reed sat back down and glanced at the sleeping kid before she turned her attention back to Brinley. “Your mother? Seriously?”

  “She’s here visiting me, and she’s a CPA, so yes, my mother. Someone at the casino is laundering money, and a lot of it.” Brinley pressed her hands to the sides of her head. “I don’t have proof of that yet, but I was going in today to quit. There was no way I want any part of what’s going on. I worked hard to get my license and I’m not losing it over someone else’s stupidity.”

  “Are you sure that’s all you found?”

  Brinley stared at her as if she’d gone insane. “Believe me, I don’t have anything to gain by not telling you, so that’s it. My mom must be going nuts with worry by now.”

  “What you said doesn’t sound like something you or the other woman should’ve died for, but Wallace isn’t your average nut job. He’s a paranoid asshole, so he must’ve feared something.” She checked her watch and was ready to head home, but she’d fucked up her life by not killing this woman, and because she hadn’t, she’d severely narrowed her options.

  “Can I ask you something now?”

  “Why the hell not.” She laughed and spun the pen on the table.

  “I’m glad you think this is funny,” Brinley said, her anger finally emerging.

  Anger in this situation was brave. “This isn’t funny or fair—I get that, but life’s a bear waiting to take you down. If you want to get pissed, give Little Bobby Wallace a call. All this crap isn’t on me.”

  “Tell me the truth, and finish the story of why you didn’t kill me,” Brinley said gently, as if that would make her answer. “The other person didn’t have a problem killing Naomi and her daughter. If you’re really a professional killer, then me and my son should be dead.”

  “You’re going to have to accept the answer I gave you. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the whole truth. Trust me.” It wasn’t like she got some cheap thrill from killing people—it was a job, like accounting, but with better hours and much better pay. Spilling her guts to a mark would make her not only a chump, but extremely stupid. Stupid people didn’t live long in this profession.

  The real problem now was not only could she not talk to Oscar about this, but she couldn’t tell anyone. Silence and secrets were the only things that guaranteed your freedom. And telling Oscar would only drag him down with her. She owed him more than that.

  “Try me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’d give you my condolences on your loss, but I’m not that much of a hypocrite,” Francesco Terzo said when Diego Moretti took a seat in Francesco’s study. “The man was a piece of shit, God rest his soul, but he picked a bad time to die.”

  “I agree on all counts.” Diego had formulated a plan for this meeting, and the most important aspect of it was not saying too much. “Victor went out of his way to humiliate my daughter, but she’ll get over it and move on. We, on the other hand, have to find another way to conduct business.”

  “Sofia has my sympathy. First Victor, and now all this business with their sons. Poor woman has no luck.” Francesco reached over and patted his knee like he was a small boy in need of comforting for a scraped elbow.

  “Her sons will learn respect, or they will have to learn to fend for themselves,” he said, not appreciating Francesco’s willingness to talk about things that weren’t any of his business. “I won’t tolerate disrespect, or the hold of a man like Victor over their mother. I don’t give a fuck that he was their father.”

  “It’s the young, Diego. Things like loyalty and respect aren’t concepts they understand. That you’re here makes me glad for those boys. If you straighten them out now before it gets too far out of hand, they might have a chance.” Francesco leaned back and spread his hands out. “You don’t deserve that in your family.”

  “My grandsons will come to see reason, or not. That’s not important to me right now,” he said and Francesco smiled. “Our business and how we go forward is why I’m here.”

  “Your late son-in-law was vital to my future as well as yours, but we’re working on something else now that he’s out of the picture. I don’t want you to worry, though. Whatever I work out will include you.” Francesco paused and Diego figured this was where he’d get screwed. “Granted, your piece may have to be smaller.”

  “Why is that? We were the ones who brought you this deal, and we’re the ones who paved the way with Victor.” He wasn’t disciplined enough to not raise his voice, but he wasn’t lying down, either. “Our part has to stay the same.”

  “Diego, maybe it’s time for you to get out of Vegas altogether,” Francesco said icily. “Take some time to get your family under control. After that, we’ll talk again. You know it’s not going to be that easy to replace Victor with someone who’ll be open to what we want, someone we can trust. You have no people here, no connections, so how are you going to help with that?”

  “Are you fucking with me right now? Do you think I’m some punk who’s going to take shit from you because you’re Francesco Terzo?” His voice finally rose to the level of screaming as he got to his feet, and the door opened.

  “Mr. Moretti, maybe it’s time to go,” Lucan said as he entered with Paolo.

  “Think before you do something stupid, Francesco. I agreed to keep my people out of Vegas, but a few phone calls could change all that. I have as much right to this deal as you do.”

  “Once the families back east hear about your grandsons, and how Sofia had Victor killed, you won’t win that fight.” Francesco stood as well and waved Lucan back. “I don’t want to talk about you or your family to anyone, I want to save you the embarrassment, but a move against me is a move against the family.”

  “Victor was scum and you know it. Sofia had nothing to do with that except for trying to be a good wife. The police ruled it an accident.”

  “We’ll see, but the investigation isn’t quite closed. Take care of burying Victor, and we’ll talk after that. I know you don’t like Vegas, but enjoy the city for a few days and relax. All these harsh words between us will be forgotten once you calm down and think about what I said.”

  Diego left without another word, needing to get away from the piece of shit who was going to pay for talking to him like that. “Where’s your sister?” he asked Paolo as they drove back to the house. He flexed and stretched his fingers, trying to calm down.

  “Papa, do you think that was smart? Francesco and all the Terzos are assholes, but we can’t afford to piss them off and have them cut us out of this deal. We need this.” Paolo spoke softly so his bodyguard wouldn’t overhear them.

  “We’ll worry about business later. First we fix what’s wrong within the family, since I think Terzo was right about that.” The car left the edge of the desert and headed for the gated community where Sofia’s house was located. “She doesn’t want to admit it, but Sofia had that bastard killed.”

  “Can you blame her? What he did made him deserve the death he got. I should’ve been the one who killed him,” Paolo said, his temper up. “How he died though—if someone killed him, they were good.”

  “I don’t disagree with either of those things, but if Terzo believes she
did it and is convinced that’s the truth, we’ve got problems. He wouldn’t give a shit if Victor hadn’t been in play, but Sofia fucked things up by taking him out, and Terzo will take that personally. He’s going to hit us hard if someone like Wallace doesn’t take over for Victor, since it’ll set us back months.” He moved his head from side to side to crack the bones in his neck. “And like I said, Sofia left someone out there who can hurt us if someone like Terzo needs an excuse to move against us.”

  “What do you want to do?” Paolo asked, and his willingness to follow orders made Diego proud.

  “We clean up Sofia’s and Victor’s messes, then put your sister on a short, sturdy leash. She’s my daughter, and I love her, but she should’ve left this to us.”

  “You raised us with pride, though, Papa. Sofia isn’t one who would’ve forgiven Victor for the betrayals he piled at her feet.”

  “True, I taught you both pride—but never to choke on it.”

  * * *

  “You’re not going to answer me?” Brinley asked, but the woman simply stared at her as if she could see right through her. “Why are we here and not dead?”

  “The kid didn’t deserve to see that,” the woman said, now staring at Finn. “The kid didn’t ask you to get mixed up with these people, which makes him an innocent in all this.”

  “His name is Finn, and he’s barely one. I doubt he’d remember if you had killed me and left him alive.” The memory of the nurse laying Finn across her chest right after his birth came to her. It was the happiest moment of her life, knowing that perfect little boy would be hers forever to love and protect. “And does that mean I’m somehow guilty?”

  “Don’t try and guess anything about me. He’d have known, and then his life would’ve been fucked. I couldn’t do that.”

  There was plenty of meaning in those words, but she doubted the person hired to kill her would explain. “What’s your name?”

  “You don’t need to know my name.” They locked eyes, and she finally had to turn away from the intensity of the woman’s gaze.

  “If you don’t tell me that, then tell me what happens next. Hopefully, it’s not that you’re building up the nerve to kill me,” she said and couldn’t help the nervous laughter. “You’re probably thinking of ways to get rid of me, and want me to shut up, but I’m scared out of my mind and I talk a lot when I’m scared.”

  “Don’t start crying again. Believe me, I’d let you go, but Wallace will only hire someone to fulfill that contract. The next person won’t give a shit about Finn or you.” The sigh that followed didn’t put her at ease. “The other thing is, my job prospects will dry up if I don’t kill you.”

  “What if I promise to leave town and never come back?” It was worth a shot to ask. Hiring someone to kill her was in no way in the employee handbook as a reprimand for management’s dissatisfaction with her job performance.

  “Sure, I can do that if you’re willing to start a whole new life under a whole new identity. You’d have to leave everything you know behind and spend the rest of your life praying no one ever recognized you. Leaving Vegas isn’t an option unless you’re willing to start over someplace like a remote cabin in Alaska.” The woman shrugged and placed her hands back on the table. “I’m sure they could do with some good accountants in the frozen tundra.”

  Brinley couldn’t be sure, but she seemed a little socially inept. “But I’m no one in the realm of all this. Why would they hunt me down?” She was about to cry again but the woman’s nostrils flared so she tried to control it.

  “Robert Wallace is paying me two hundred thousand dollars to kill you.” She tapped the side of her head. “Think about that. Do you even make that much in a year?”

  “No,” she said as her tears dripped off her chin. Obviously controlling her emotions wasn’t her greatest talent when she was literally under the gun. It was one of those things you didn’t know about yourself until you actually experienced them.

  “Then you know something Wallace doesn’t want anyone else to know, and he’s willing to pay for a permanent solution. It’s either kill you, or move you to the remote cabin, where you spend the rest of your life wondering when the next hired gun is going to show up at your door.”

  “I can’t stop you from the killing-me option, but could you at least do me a favor?” The memory of Finn’s birth and all those things she promised him that day came back to her. She planned to fulfill them as best she could even if it meant him going on without her.

  “What?”

  “Can you take Finn to my mother? I mentioned that she’s visiting me right now, and she’ll take care of him,” she said with a bravery that definitely wasn’t heartfelt.

  “I won’t make you that promise, so save your breath.” That made Brinley start crying again in earnest. “Jesus, come on with the tears. I’m not killing you no matter what, so you can take care of the kid yourself.”

  “Oh,” she said, wiping her face. Her eyes felt raw and swollen, but the discomfort reminded her that she was still alive. “I should clarify and say no matter who kills me. Will you make sure he gets to my mom?”

  “You’re not dying, so save it for something else you want.”

  “I should admit that I wasn’t completely truthful before.” She started talking faster when the woman tensed up again. “You made me panic. I should’ve said that I have heard of that guy Wallace before. Naomi told me who he was.”

  “Anything else you want to tell me?”

  “I’ve never met or seen him, but she mentioned him. After that, and after seeing my boss having lunch with someone she said was a Mob person, I accessed information on Naomi’s laptop and emailed it to myself,” she said, realizing that she might be responsible for what happened to her friend. “Do you think that’s why they killed her?”

  “They killed her because she was working on the audit with you. There has to be something in there that Wallace doesn’t want you to accidentally share with anyone. Hell, you may not have even come across it yet. And what Mob person are you talking about?”

  “Someone named Caterina,” she said, pinching her forehead and trying to remember. “I’m sorry I don’t remember her last name, but Naomi recognized her.”

  “Your boss, Dean, was having lunch with Caterina Terzo?” That seemed to interest her captor for some reason.

  “That’s what Naomi said. She got nervous after that, so we only talked a bit more over lunch and then went back to work.” The way the woman was nodding was, in a strange way, making her feel better about the situation.

  “What did you and your mom find that makes you think Wallace is laundering money?”

  “The only thing that jumped out at me was the consistency of their cash flow statements,” she said, and it didn’t seem to register with the woman. “Any business like a doctor’s office, or an oil-field supply company, or anyone who does the same service over and over again usually has about the same intake of cash. Well, unless they expanded or something like a hurricane interrupted them for an extended period of time.”

  “Those you have experience with, I’m guessing.”

  “I do, but do you understand what I’m talking about?”

  “I understand.”

  “Even those types of businesses I mentioned have some fluctuation.” She put her hands down when she noticed she was using them too much. “This is the first casino I’ve worked for, and the nature of their business, I’d guess, shouldn’t be so steady. In two years the Moroccan has almost quadrupled their business with a consistent payout percentage. That’s an accounting anomaly that shouldn’t happen in a real-life situation.”

  “The records you accessed, were they available without a password?”

  “Naomi told me they have to be because of the gaming commission. If they spot-check, they have to be able to sit at any terminal and open the files.” She stopped talking when the woman smiled, and it transformed her whole face, making her strangely attractive, given the situation. “What?”


  “The money they’re taking in probably hasn’t changed, but how they’ve reported it has.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “What you accessed is what the gaming commission is looking at, but what you were working on are the actual numbers. If whatever agency got ahold of those numbers, it’d bury Wallace and your boss under a world of hurt.”

  “What’s your name?” Brinley tried again.

  “Why do you need to know?” The woman looked at her like she was getting ready to strip her bare of every secret she thought to have.

  “Okay, forget that and tell me what happens next. You said I’m dead if I leave, and that we don’t have many choices, so what’s the way out of this?” There was nothing to lose here, and it was time to gamble and try to save her life. For a killer, her captor didn’t seem rash, and hopefully that would hold.

  “I make my living by precise planning that can’t be deviated from if I want to stay in the shadows.”

  The answer probably meant the woman was going to deflect again. Brinley would ask hard questions, but the penalty shots of doing the wrong thing would be hard to overcome.

  “Until today, that’s been the basis of my life, so I really can’t answer that question honestly. Not right now.”

  “I’m sure I sound repetitive, but what does that mean?” How in the world did she have this kind of shitty luck? She’d moved here for better opportunities, and she was now in an old camper with the woman hired to kill her. This was no time to lose her head, but Jesus Christ. This was like nothing else she’d ever faced, and one wrong answer or move would cost her more than a job.

  “That’s simple. I don’t know.”

  “That makes two of us.” All she had to do was keep the woman talking and thinking, and she and Finn might be okay.

  * * *

  Wilma checked her phone again and called Brinley for what must have been the fiftieth time, but there was still no answer to all her calls, texts, and phone messages. She’d checked with the day care center every hour, but Brinley had never dropped Finn off, and Brinley hadn’t shown up at work yet, either. She really wanted to call the police, but they’d only tell her to wait twenty-four hours.