Concealed Affliction (31 page)

“Should you encounter the man you saw at the cemetery, Foley something or other, or another man named William Becker, be sure to let whatever they say go in one ear and out the other. They aren’t good people.”

“Becker? Why does that sound familiar?”

“You follow American politics?”

He nods his head. “A little, why?”

“Because he’s the Mayor of Chicago.”

Wide eyes greet my serious ones.

“I’m not lying, Bryan. That man is fucking evil. Avoid him and his cronies if you can help it. However, I’m sure he and Braumer would get along great over a single malt and a few cigars. They both share a mutual dislike for yours truly.”

“I don’t think you’re lying, Jay. Jesus, what the fuck happened since you left here?”

“Too much, and not enough.”

Bryan paces the cell for a few moments, lost in thought. I barely told him anything, but to him I’m sure it’s a lot. I didn’t tell him what I found out about Shawn because at this point I don’t think it’ll help. If Ryder and the guys choose to share that, it’ll be up to them.

I move to lay down on the board they call a mattress, knowing I need at least a few hours of sleep before I face the evil prick known as Braumer in the morning.

“A guard will come down soon to man the desk. If you need anything, let him know. Or if you need to speak with me again, I’ll let him know to take it seriously and send me back here.”

I give him a small salute in acknowledgement before I roll my back to the wall, curling up with the pillow. I don’t like it in here and I refuse to sleep without seeing who’s coming in and out of this room.

“Oh, one more thing. I found Lucy Greer. She died.”

I can see the defeat on his face, upset that he doesn’t have something more substantial since my absence and phone call.

“I know.”

* * *

With nothing to look at, I’ve kept my eyes closed, but I can’t fall asleep. I heard the guard come down the hallway, but he said nothing to me. I can see his back from where he sits at his desk at the end of the hallway. He didn’t bother to greet me, and I’m thankful.

I hear the door open again just a few moments later, and the sound of shuffling feet.

Great, a drunk person.

Hoping I don’t have to share my cell, I keep my eyes closed and feign sleep in the hopes they’ll keep me and the newcomer separated.

“If you don’t wake up right now Jayne Elle O’Connor, I promise to vomit all over your selfish ass for not coming to see me as soon as you got back!”

I bolt upright in bed and can’t stop the happy tears gathering in the corner of my eyes. Miller opens the gate to my cell and kindly shoves Laura through before closing it again. I make my way to embrace my best friend who is closer to a sister to me, but stop short when I feel the burning slap across my cheek.

“That’s for not telling me you were home! For leaving me for so long and not letting me know you were okay! You damn well deserved it too!”

I don’t move. Jimmy wasn’t kidding when he said she can hold a grudge, and as much as I want to correct her and let her know it was for her own well-being that I stayed away, I don’t. She’s been drinking and she’s slightly wobbly. So I stand my ground, waiting for her to unleash whatever it is she needs to on me.

I know I would do the same if I were in her shoes. I’ve lived for nearly a year knowing that she was well and truly okay. She has lived in fear that I could be dead or dying in a ditch somewhere.

She hasn’t taken her eyes off me. Much like everyone else from my past who I’ve encountered, she studies me intently, taking in my new much firmer body, my purchased face and dark brown hair. After what feels like an eternity, and mostly likely due to the alcohol, she loses it.

Her chin quivers and her face falls, along with the tears gathered in her honey colored eyes. I pull my dear friend close and hold her tighter than I’d been able to the last time I hugged her. Too many stitches prevented me from giving her a proper embrace.

I let her weep onto my scarf for however long she needs to, knowing she needs this reassurance that I am in fact alive.

After a small eternity, she pulls back. She reaches behind me to grab the pillow off the top bunk and motions to the small bottom one. I climb back onto the bed, knowing this is our time to share.

I get in first, with my back once again to the wall, and she settles herself on the outside facing me. She adjusts her too-tight jeans and pulls her grey cardigan around her body before she settles onto the pillow.

We stare at each other for a few moments, much like we used to in this same position. From high school and on, this was the way we would have our heart to hearts. Vent about first loves, teething children and insufferable men. This is how we shared our secrets and stories.

“You’re still beautiful,” she says after a long perusal of my face.

“Where were you? Why are you back? You know everything I want to know, so just start from the beginning, I have all night.”

I laugh a little.

“How did you get in here anyway? What did Miller say when he called you?”

She gives me a smile before diving in.

“He was smart enough to tell me that being an unruly drunk in front of the police would land me in the drunk tank. He told me that my blood alcohol content would be taken and he’d be outside of the station around eleven o’clock.

“Of course he told me all that shit
before
he dropped the bomb you were in here. After I lost my shit, I told Brad to hand me the tequila and watch the kids. So, here I am. Half-drunk and here overnight so long as I, and I quote, ‘
behave myself and dry out by morning
’.”

She follows this up with a tipsy smile before sobering, at which point I lay it all on her. It takes a few hours and a lot of questions from her. But I start at Denver and end with Canada. Not surprisingly, her choice words for Ryder are more colorful than mine. And after a good curse fest of her proclaiming him
‘that lying sack of shit cheating whore of a hooker’s son
’, we finally find slumber.

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Knock, Knock!”

I feel Laura move on the bed and I crack my eyes open to greet the dick behind the voice. There’s no clock in this cell so I have no idea what time it is, but I feel like I just got to sleep. Laura sits up on the bed, holding onto her temples from what I’m sure is a massive headache, courtesy of the tequila she drank last night.

I finally let my eyes settle on the sorry excuse of a detective standing on the other side of the bars. I wish our places were reversed, but there’s not much I can do about that right now. Wish in one hand, shit in the other—we all know which fills up first.

“We meet again, Ms. O’Connor. Up and at ‘em. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Is my lawyer here yet?”

“No, but he should be shortly. You and I can get started.”

“You and I will do no such thing until my lawyer is present.”

He sighs, as if it’s a big deal to him. He’s only upset because he knows his presence bothers me and he’ll do whatever he can to make my life miserable. I’m sure of it.

“Very well. I thought we could have a coffee and catch up, but stay in here if you wish.”

I know his game and I’m not about to play. The lousy fuck doesn't want to have coffee with me. He wants some sort of a confession as to what happened, anything to nail me to the wall.

“I hate that prick!”

“You and me both, Laur.”

We don’t sit long before the desk guard comes down the hall.

“Monroe?”

Laura stands up.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Time to go Curly Sue, your night at the hotel is over.”

I embrace my girl one last time, knowing there’s nothing else I can do to keep her in here with me, and not wanting too. Well, sort of. But I know she needs to get home, and it won't be long until I’m called back to the interrogation room.

“I love you, Laur. Give the kids a hug and kiss for me.”

“I will, I promise. I’ll call Jimmy as soon as I get out to find out what’s going on.”

Once again I’m left alone in my little cell. I stretch out my legs, but refuse to use the open toilet where anyone could see me. I had my privacy taken away from me once, it won’t happen again.

I do my best to wash my face and rinse out my mouth just in time to hear a set of footsteps coming back down the hall.

“O’Connor, lawyer’s here.”

I’m led by another young rookie cop to the interrogation room. Miller greets me outside the door and I notice the distinguished gentleman inside the room through the blinds.

“Really, Jayne? He’s your lawyer?”

I give a slight shrug of my shoulders.

“I don’t know, who is he?”

“That’s Andrei Patrov.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“If you associate with the Russian mob it should.”

This is news to me. Seeing as I don’t know any Russians that I can think of.

“Well, is he any good?”

“You could say that,” he says.

I can tell by the expression on Miller’s face that he must be good, but maybe not entirely legal in his endeavors.

“Well, that’s all that should matter.”

I open the door and enter the room to greet an attractive man. I’m assuming in his early forties with light brown hair and sharp midnight blue eyes.

“Ah, Ms. O’Connor. Pleasure to meet you.”

I note the light Russian accent and extend my hand to greet him. “You as well.”

“Detective Miller, could you please allow us the room so I may speak with my client confidentially.”

Miller wastes no time in closing the door.

“Alright, we’ll cut the shit and get straight to the point. I’m Andrei Patrov, if you have not heard of me, you will.”

This statement is followed by a shark of a smile, which I don’t find scary but definitely threatening if he wanted it to be.

“I know most of what you are dealing with, having been briefed on the flight here. Mr. Callaghan joined me midway through my flight as well as my cousin, Ivan.”

The look I give him must show my confusion.

“My second cousin, to be exact. He works for Mr. Callaghan and served with him overseas. Now, we need to go over what you are going to say. They no longer wish to hear a recount of what happened to
you
in the room, they know this already. They wish to find out how each of the men ended up dead.”