High Stakes Seduction - Book 5 (20 page)

"Brad," I said after Walker hung up the phone, "we need to move. Now."

The Assistant D.A. stepped over to me as I pocketed my cell. "What's going on?" Ryan asked. I didn't want to say anything, but…

"How do you know Angela?" I asked him. I couldn't help myself.

"We met on the plane coming back from Florida," he told me.

Okay. I guess that was fair. At least now I knew. "And?"

"We went out a couple of times. That's all." He shrugged, running one hand through his hair then shoving both hands into his pockets. He looked away. "Unfortunately, we’re just friends.”

I suppose it was less than charitable, but I sighed with relief. I looked over at Stephens as he hung up his phone. "Hey Brad, I think it's time to bring Ryan in," I said.

Ryan's eyebrows shot up at that, but the look on Stephens' face told me he wasn't sure this was a good idea.

"Look," I said, "The bad guys have Angela. We need all the help we can get."

Stephens grunted his agreement and started filling in the background on the case.

In the meantime, I made a called of my own.

"Hey, Thompson," I said when my driver answered the phone. "Come up to the D.A.'s office. We need your help."

Chapter Fifty-Two

ANTONIO

"We believe Walker has been laundering money through the South Side Children's Academy, and directing it into the coffers of several phony 'consultants' as well as some of our local politicians," Stephens said.

Ryan nodded. "Angela sent me some brochures from Walker's Funeral operation, but I wasn't sure exactly what how that fit in."

"He has several businesses associated with the funeral homes themselves. They've been moving money into their operation through "donations". The problem is, the people who are donating aren't real. Or, they used to be, but they're deceased now."

"So, a bunch of dead people have been donating money to the charity?" Ryan asked, shaking his head.

"And some of Walker's 'associates' have been providing 'matching funds'."

"Slick," Ryan said, shaking his head.

The phone buzzed, and Stephens picked it up. "Yep, thank you," he said, nodding at me. "They've located the signal." I breathed a huge breath of relief, collapsing into a chair next to my chauffeur.

Thompson leaned over, speaking softly. "You know she's not out of the woods yet, Boss."

I pressed my hand on his forearm, appreciating his concern. "I know, but at least they've tracked the phone."

"Well, let's hope it's still in her possession, Sir."

He was right. In the relief of knowing they'd at least found the phone's signal, I'd chosen to ignore any of the negative possibilities. For the moment it was all I had.

"Come on Thompson," I said, standing up with the others. "No telling what they'll find."

We weren't part of the reconnaissance party, but I knew the cops would handle everything according to the book. Or pretty much, anyway. This time, when the detectives went to right the wrongs, at least everyone would know what side I was on.

The four of us waited outside until the officers surrounded and entered Walker's main funeral home. It didn't take long. Once they brought Walker outside, I stepped in front of him.

"You have no right to be here. What do you think you're doing?" he glared at me.

"It's too late, Walker," I said, pointing to the search warrant in the sergeant's hand.

"What's
your
role in this Mancini?" he growled at me. "Should have known you'd be just like your old man—can't be trusted. Better watch your back or you could end up just like him. "

Now that sparked my interest, especially the part about ending up just like my father. I wondered what part Walker had to do with his death. I'd look into that comment later, but for the moment I let it go. There were other, more important things that needed to be taken care of first.

"Where's Angela? What have you done with her?" I demanded.

He laughed. "Talk to my attorney. I got nothing to say to you."

I turned to the officer in charge. "Search everything.
Everything
. We have to find the girl."

Walker laughed that high-pitched laugh again. I'd have liked nothing better than to stuff his tie down his throat at that moment.

I turned to Stephens, fuming. But he was on his cell phone and raised a finger to me, asking me to wait. "Naomi" he mouthed.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry I'm late for our date,” Stephens said, speaking into the phone. “You'll only have to wait a little longer, I've sent someone to pick you up. He should be there any moment." He paused and looked over at me. "Yeah, go answer the door."

Then he smiled and gave me a thumbs up. "He's your chauffeur for the night, Naomi. Seems we've all got a date with your friend Walker. Now, put the officer on the phone."

"Okay, Mulrooney," Stephens continued a moment later. "Bring her to the station. See you shortly."

"You’re bringing Naomi in?" I asked. He nodded.

"She's so tied up in this, I figured it was best to have her here. In the meantime, I'll check with the sergeant to see what they've discovered in the back room."

"You won't find anything," came Walker's voice from the corner.

"You better hope we find the girl," I said to him, teeth clenched tightly.

He just laughed.

***

"Stephens, they just brought the woman in. She's asking for you," said the officer who leaned his head in through the doorway.

"Want to come along?" Stephens asked me, heading for the front office.

I nodded. While I'd rather have stayed put while they finished looking for Angela, Stephens and I had come back to the police station to meet up with Walker and Naomi.

At that moment, I was on the phone with Thompson. The cops weren't having much luck back at the funeral home. They'd gone through the caskets, and were now searching the rooms and offices. They'd located Angela's cell phone and her purse, but so far, she was nowhere to be found. I asked Thompson to stay in touch, and followed Stephens out.

Naomi's face was hard and cold, her eyes casting daggers at the men around her. Her face twisted up in anger when she saw me.

"You!" She spit out. "You set me up!"

"Oh no, Naomi. You did that yourself." I crossed my arms over my chest, keeping my voice even. "All I did was ask you to come along with me to a couple of meetings. You were the one who volunteered your…
services
."

"Brad," she stuck out her lower lip in a pout, lowering her chin and looking up at him through her lashes. "What is he talking about? What's going on here?"

"Give it up Naomi, we know you've been working with Walker," Stephens leaned against the desk across from her. "What did you do with the girl? Tell me where she's stashed."

Naomi's face shifted, but she stood there for a moment as if trying to figure out her best strategy. "I have no idea what you're talking about,” she said, clearly stalling.

"I think you do." He studied her face for a moment. "Naomi, you're in pretty deep here. You're already an accomplice to money-laundering. I don't really think you want to be an accomplice to kidnapping…
or something worse
…"

Hearing the words out loud seemed to crystallize my worst fears. It was all I could do to keep my anger under control.

"Naomi, I swear to you, if any harm has befallen Angela," I took a deep breath, balling my hands into fists, "I'll make sure you're locked away for good. And even your dead husband Roger's family won't be able to find the key."

Her eyes widened slightly, and her alabaster skin became even paler, if that was possible. She turned from me and looked at Stephens.

"Does he have to be in here? I'll talk to you, but not if he's here."

"Spill it, Naomi. He stays. You don't have a choice."

She turned toward me, her eyes blazing. "So, you want to find your little girlfriend, Antonio? You bastard." Turning back to Stephens, she said, "Well, most things are negotiable. For a price."

"Some things never change," said Walker from the corner.

"Get him out of here," Stephens told the cop next to him. "And get the sergeant."

***

"What do you know about the girl's whereabouts?" asked the officer.

"I'm only talking to the D.A., and only then
if
we have a deal," Naomi insisted.

"I'm not guaranteeing anything. Especially not until we have the girl safe and sound." Stephens told her. "But I do promise to give you consideration, depending on how the rest of the case goes."

For just the briefest moment, I saw fear flicker across Naomi's face. But she quickly pulled the mask back down, shutting out any possibility of emotion.

"If you've been following Walker, then you know he has a pretty extensive operation, including two parlors. This one, and the one on Florence, on the other side of town."

"We've already sent men to the Florence operation. Tell us something we don't already know."

"Not all burials include just one body. Having a funeral parlor is an easy way to get rid of people you don't want around, or people who were just too nosy."

She saw the look on my face, and quickly said, "I'm not saying that's what happened to the girl. Just that he sometimes finds it's a convenient… solution. So, you know Walker also has a warehouse where he keeps his extra inventory?"

Stephens nodded.

Naomi shrugged. "Well, it may or may not mean anything, but among other things, the inventory includes extra coffins he has in stock. That way he never has to go very far, or wait very long, regardless of what the customer's family wants. It's in an out-of-the-way location, which is convenient for those times when Walker has someone who needs… convincing. If you've been through both of the parlors, then I suggest you head over there. And be sure to check the office way in the back. It's particularly quiet." She glared at me.

Stephens turned to the sergeant. "Joe, can you send someone out there right away?" The man nodded.

"I'm sending Thompson along," I said as Stephens jotted down the address for the sergeant.

Chapter Fifty-Three

ANGELA

I opened my eyes again, but it was still dark. I had way too much time to lay here and think. I guess I was lucky that I had drifted into and out of sleep. I had no idea how long I'd been in here, but my bladder was starting to get very uncomfortable. I hoped someone would find me soon. Actually, I hoped someone—anyone—would find me,
period
.

For the millionth time, I berated myself for not having listened to Antonio. This wasn't the first time I gotten myself into trouble by being impetuous, but it was the first time it had ever been this serious.

I took a deep breath, feeling sorry for myself. Things had been tough before I met Antonio, but Maria and I had been getting by. If I'd never met him, then I wouldn't be in this position now. Well, actually, if I hadn't fallen head over heels for him, then I wouldn't be in this position now either.

But Antonio wasn't the only one who had warned me, Ryan had told me to stay away also. Why couldn't I have fallen for someone like Ryan? He was cute, and sweet. Nice sense of humor. I sighed. But, he wasn't Antonio. And if I had to spend my last minutes thinking about someone, I'd rather think about Antonio.

I didn't even want to think about Maria. What had I done to my poor sister? I know she had scolded me not so long ago for treating her like she was fragile, but I couldn't help it. She was my sister. And regardless of how strong she might be, if I wasn't there to help out, well, I didn't think she'll be able to make it on her own.

Tears welled in my eyes as the bleakness of my situation hit me. Poor Maria. Now she would be alone. Would she wonder what my last hours were like? Was she wondering that now? I turned my head to the side, sniffling, trying not to choke on the tears that threatened to overwhelm me. I managed to get my hand to my face so I could wipe my runny nose.

Who even suspected I was here besides Walker? If anything happened to him, would they ever find me? I openly sobbed as I thought about losing my family, and what it would be like for Maria to be on her own.

That asshole, Whiny Wendell Walker! How could he do this to my sweet sister? How could he make her a total orphan, with no family at all?
As I thought about Walker, I began to get angry. That was good, I liked that feeling. It was a hell of a lot more empowering than feeling sorry for myself. So I fed it. Every time I started to feel sad about myself, my circumstances, I pictured Walker's face. Or I heard his whiny voice. And then I'd get angry all over again.

I started imagining what I would do to him if I ever got the opportunity. The little tortures that I could make up, each one worse than the last. These weren't pleasant thoughts by any means, but they kept me occupied. And more importantly, kept me away from feeling sad or being scared.