A Rush to Violence (10 page)

“Stay there. I’ll pick you up in a minute.”

“You can’t come near me.”

“What does that mean?”

“A chip was planted under my skin.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re tracking me through a chip. They put it in my shoulder. If you pick me up, they’ll be tracking each of us. I can fool it sometimes with a magnet, but I just did that a few minutes ago and I can’t do it again this quickly. For now, it’s best if you’re on the periphery.”

“Who are they?”

“The people who plan to kill one of the girls if I don’t find someone for them soon.”

“You need to get off this phone and call me from a landline.”

“My phone is secure.”

“No cell phone is secure.”

“I’m on satellite.”

A silence passed.

“Tell me what you know and how I can help.”

Marty told him. When they finished, he hung up and almost could see Hines pulling everything he had on Camille Miller and a man he knew only as Carr. If that was his real name, which Marty doubted, Hines might be able to link the two and learn his full name. But it was a long shot. They both knew it. There was no way Carr was using his real name, but they needed to try.

He was putting the phone back in his pocket when he noted a black limousine coming down Prince.

It was Carr and his men—he knew it. He turned and waited for them. The car stopped in the middle of the street and the rear door shot open.

Carr was in the back, but he wasn’t alone. This time he had a surprise. Jennifer was with him. The corner of her mouth was bleeding. She looked horrifyingly at Marty just as a younger man emerged from the seat opposite her, stepped onto the street and motioned for him to get inside.

CHAPTER TEN

“It’s good to see you out and about,” Carr said while Marty sat next to Jennifer and put his arm around her. “And don’t worry about her. She was just a little resistant when we picked her up at Channel One while she was leaving for lunch. Alex here needed to slap her a couple times to keep her in line.”

He motioned to the young man sitting opposite them, who shrugged as if hitting Marty’s wife meant nothing. It was enough to make Marty lunge across the car at him.

He grabbed the man by the throat, leaned into it with his forearm and started to pummel his face with his free fist while the man squirmed and choked, struggled and kicked. Marty had the element of surprise and he used it to his benefit, beating the man in the face while Carr reared back, stunned by the outburst.

“For Christ’s sake, get off him,” he said.

“Keep your fucking hands off my wife,” Marty said. He pulled back his fist and went straight for the man’s mouth, breaking teeth, maybe a jaw. They were approximately the same size and they started to flail together on the seats across from Carr and Jennifer, who twisted away from the brawl.

The man’s hand slipped free from Marty’s grip and went for the gun at his waist. But Marty head-butted him, took his hand and jerked it violently back, breaking it. The man howled in pain and tried to push Marty off him with his knees, but he couldn’t.

So the driver helped.

Just as Marty was reaching for the man’s gun, the car jerked to a stop with such force that it sent him rolling into the space between the facing seats. Carr’s shoe came out of nowhere and struck him hard against the temple. When he looked up, dazed, the driver was pointing a gun at his forehead.

He looked at Carr. “Shoot him?”

“No.”

“Shoot her?”

Carr removed his own gun from his jacket and pointed it at Marty. He looked at Jennifer and hesitated before he spoke. “Maybe.”

Car horns sounded behind them. Marty got up and fixed his eyes on the driver and Alex, the latter of whom was bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth. His jaw hung slackly and slanted to the right. Four of his front teeth were either smashed or missing. With the hand that wasn’t broken, he started to reach for his gun, which was enough to cause Jennifer to scream.

“Leave it alone,” Carr said.

Alex looked at him in disbelief. He blinked.

“We’ll get you to a hospital. Leave your gun alone and just sit there.” He picked up the gun himself and looked at the driver. “Get us out of here. Can’t you hear those horns? Move before somebody questions us.”

The man turned around and started to drive.

Marty sat next to Jennifer and forced himself to control his rage. He tried to catch his breath, but it was difficult. He looked at Jennifer and could only imagine what she was thinking. Yesterday, he hired protection for her. She was supposed to be safe. What went wrong?

He glared at Carr. “What do you want from us? You said you were giving me seventy-two hours? What’s changed?”

“Nothing’s changed,” Carr said, keeping the guns on Marty while trying to compose himself. “At least when it comes to Camille. You still have whatever’s left of your seventy-two hours to bring her in.”

“Then why are you here with my wife?”

“To show you what a fool you are. And how vulnerable you are. I could kill her, you know.”

“You’d die trying.”

“You think so? Are you sure? I think you’d lose. If she was honest, I think she’d agree.” He seemed to make a decision and then lowered the guns in his lap while keeping them pointed at Marty. “You made a mistake. You broke your promise to me. You let others in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you hired people to protect her.”

Marty said nothing.

“You don’t think we’re watching you? All of you?”

Silence.

“They’re gone now,” Carr said. “Dealt with. Now I need to decide on how to deal with you.” His eyes hardened. “Maybe the best way is through her?”

“You touch my wife and you’re dead.”

“Is that so, Spellman?”

“It is. What’s worse is that you’re losing time. The longer I sit here, the less time I have to find Camille Miller.”

“I guess that’s your problem, isn’t it?”

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“You were ordered to keep your mouth shut.”

“I never said a word.”

“Bullshit.”

“All I did was hire a team to protect my wife. Nobody knew anything beyond that.” He paused. “But I’m betting you already know that.”

 This time it was Carr who said nothing. He looked at Jennifer, who was staring straight ahead, her face an unreadable mask, and then he looked back at Marty, who was staring at him.

 “I’m assuming you won’t make the same mistake again?” Carr said. “If you do, we won’t be as forgiving next time, especially after what you just pulled with him.” He nodded over at Alex, who was trying to support his broken jaw with one of his bloody hands.

Marty was about to speak when Carr interrupted. “And you’re correct. You are running out of time. This little birthday bash you’re throwing tonight? No time for it. Call your wife, tell her you can’t make it. I couldn’t give a damn what you tell your daughter. She’ll be dead soon, anyway.”

“You know something I don’t?”

“Camille is smarter than you, Spellman. You’ll screw up, you’ll lose one of your girls and then you’ll refocus. That’s when you might stand a chance. That’s when you might actually be angry enough to bring her in.”

They were approaching a traffic light, which was red. Carr told the driver to pull over and then handed Jennifer a handkerchief to wipe her mouth.

“The blood does nothing for you, dear,” he said. “Dab this with your tongue and pat it away. You’ll be fine, though I don’t recommend going on live tonight. The mark will read. People will wonder. ‘Is she abused?’ ‘Does her husband beat her?’ ‘Was she slapped by Alex?’ You know how they are. And there’s no need for rumors. In your business, rumors can kill a career just as easily as I could have killed you.”

* * *

When they were out of the car and on the sidewalk, Marty took Jennifer’s hand and watched the limousine swing around the corner. When it was gone, she jerked her hand out of his as he turned to hail a taxi.

She had every right to be angry with him, but he wasn’t about to discuss anything on the street. She also knew better and kept her mouth shut, even though he could feel her rage searing the distance between them.

While he looked for an available cab on Prince, it occurred to him that Carr said nothing about him disappearing from their system during the short time he was wearing the magnet. Had covering the chip worked? He wasn’t sure. Not long after he left Roberta’s, Carr’s limousine appeared, though it did appear
after
he removed the magnet and thus enabled the chip’s transmission to start working again.

Perhaps they were following him all along. When he winked out, they lost him. When he became visible again, they tracked him down with the limo. It was a guess, but a solid one.

A cab pulled beside them. They got inside. “Sixty-Third and Fifth,” they said in unison.

He gave it a moment, then turned to her. “Are you all right?”

“You knew about this when you left home this morning.”

“I didn’t want to involve you or concern you.”

“You knew about this
two days ago
,” she said. “He told me so.”

“I needed to see if I could stop it on my own.”

“Apparently, you can’t. If I’d known about it, they wouldn’t have jumped me because I wouldn’t have gone to work. I would have stayed home, where I would have been safe. Or reasonably safe.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“They’ve given me seventy-two hours to find Camille Miller.” He looked up at the driver, who was glancing at them in the rearview mirror. He chose his words carefully. “If I don’t, they’ll choose one of the girls.”

That caught her off guard. For a moment, her face softened. “What’s this about? Who’s Camille Miller?”

Marty wasn’t comfortable discussing any of this here. “Call work. Tell them you won’t be back because you’re not feeling well. I’ll fill you in on everything when we’re alone at home.”

* * *

When they arrived at their penthouse, Jennifer slung her bag on top of the kitchen counter, went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. The left side of her face was beginning to bruise, but if she was in pain, she refused to show it.

When they got married, they promised each other that if anything like this happened, he would tell her. More than anyone, she knew firsthand that his job could be dangerous. She herself almost died a year ago when one of those jobs went wrong.

That he hadn’t come clean is why she was angry with him now. When they threatened his family, he hired protection for her, thinking she would be safe until he could meet Carr face-to-face. Even so, he had made a mistake. He knew she had every right to be furious with him, especially after what she’d just been through.

“In the living room,” she said.

There were two sofas facing each other in the center of the room. Each chose their own, sat and looked at one another. Jennifer took a drink of water and put the bottle down on the coffee table between them. He looked at the blood on the collar of her beige suit and the swelling on her lower lip. He wanted to go to her, but by the look on her face, they obviously were going to talk first.

“This morning you told me you were meeting Lia Costa.”

She was referring to the woman whose husband was strangled to death in their home the week before. It was major news. Costa’s husband was the former head of Citibank. “That’s right.”

“And that was a lie.”

“It was.”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“We do.”

“So, when did that end?”

“It hasn’t. I thought I could protect you. I hired people to protect you.”

“They did a great job, Marty. About ninety minutes ago, the guy you just kicked the shit out of, came up behind me, told me he had a gun and for me to get into the limousine. When I stepped inside, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and he slapped me. The old guy yanked me close to him and we took off. Next thing I know they’re telling me we’re picking you up on Prince.”

“How did they know I was on Prince?”

“How would I know?”

“Because you were in the car with them.” He unbuttoned his shirt and showed her the bandage on his shoulder. “This morning, they implanted a chip beneath my skin. It’s a tracking device, but I think I can manipulate it with a magnet, which throws off the transmission.”

“They did
what
to you?”

“Think back. Did they say anything about not being able to track me?”

“The driver said something. He said you went off grid. The geezer asked why, but before long, you were back again. They didn’t make a big deal of it.”

So, it worked. He felt at once relieved and elated. “Do you remember Kenneth Miller’s death?”

“Of course, I remember it. I covered it. He tripped over his dog.”

“No, he didn’t. He was murdered, likely by one of his children. Or all of his children. I’m not sure how deep it goes.”

“How do you know that?”

“The geezer in the limo? He goes by Carr. I doubt if that’s his real name, but we’ll call him Carr for now. He gave me information on Camille.”

“Did she do it? Is that why he’s after her?”

“Camille had nothing to do with it. In fact, out of Miller’s seven children, she’s the last one who would do it.”

“Why?”

“Because she loved her father. Carr gave me letters written between them. He thought they might offer clues as to where she is now, but what they really revealed is how close she was to her father. Near the end, not long before Kenneth died, each had a feeling that something might happen to him.”

He described Kenneth Miller’s tense relationship with his six other children, how Kenneth’s wife had financed them when she was alive and how that financing ended with her death.

“He left everything in his will to Camille and her daughter, Emma, but nothing for his six other children, at least not directly. Should Camille die, Emma receives the money.”