MASON (Second Chance Novels Book 2) (29 page)

"Shit!"

"What?" Sofia asks, looking up sharply from her papers.

"Fucking look at this from last week," I hand her the paper. "Amber's cell."

"She called the mayor's office directly?! That's not good…"

"And look here," I point at the Mayor's records. "Immediately after, he calls this number."

Sofia reaches for the computer to run the number, but I stop her before she can even key in the digits. "Sofia…"
 

"What?" she says cautiously, halting at the tone of my voice.
 

I shake my head with a sick feeling in my gut. "That number matches one of the disposable cells I pulled off of Shank."

"No…" Sofia breathes, her face now pale and terrified for Amber. Shank got that call from Bennett only two days before attacking Sofia. There are no outgoing texts or calls from her number about six hours after the call to the mayor's office. Apparently the mayor's favorite henchman has been busy.

I pull up the police blotter using the back door Shelby showed us, followed by a search of Amber's name. Nothing. Four days after that phone call, however, a missing person's report was filed for a woman matching Amber's description. The name doesn't match, however. Using a few more tricks Shelby taught us, I retrieve the edited information. The blood drains further from Sofia's face the moment I turn the computer toward her.

We're in my truck and driving to Amber's apartment within a minute. We're at Amber's door in twelve minutes more.

After the third knock and several calls to her name I look at Sofia, silently asking permission. She nods gravely. I pick the lock within seconds and let her in ahead of me, weapons drawn. After a quick sweep of a very-clean apartment, Sofia and I meet in the kitchen.
 

"This isn't right," she says, looking around. "I was here twice, and the place was much more
lived in
, almost messy. I mean she had pillows mushed, a robe over the chair, and fashion magazines on every surface. But this…this is cold."

"They made it look like she cleaned up and left," I nod.
 

Sofia goes for the closet.
Most
of Amber's clothes are gone, as well as
most
of her toiletries. The scene, at a glance, points to an extended trip, but we both know better. "Who called in the report?" Sofia asks.

"The old-lady neighbor. Apparently, Amber had tea with her every Tuesday. She said Amber was so sweet for giving her some company. I'm sure Mayor Bennett had no idea she had any relationship at all with the neighbor. There would be no record of it, and who would believe a party girl like Amber would have tea with the blue-hair next door?"

"Damn it," Sofia shakes her head with an angry, guilty expression. "We weren't here to protect her."

"Hey," I say sharply. "This is not your fault."

She shoots me a hard glare, closing the subject. I drop the issue for now, but I will not let her beat herself up over this. She's been beaten up enough by these corrupt fucks.
 

"Look close," she says with determined, controlled fury, pulling an ultra-violet flashlight out of her purse. I pull the curtains shut in the main room and walk to the bedroom, allowing Sofia to take a moment to work solo. I pull on a pair of latex gloves so I can carefully open drawers and decorative bins, looking for any hint of what might have transpired.
 

"Mason," I hear her call with a flat, detached voice after several quiet minutes. I walk to her in silence and see her pointing her light at the edge of the counter. The entire surface is too-spotless with the exception of one tiny, glowing speck of imperfection near the corner.
 

"Fuck," I say, knowing what we feared has been confirmed. "At least he missed a spot."

Sofia calls the chief of the local precinct directly. She had already reached out to him when she first found out where Amber lived on the guise that she may be looking for a transfer. She was smart to introduce herself early for a moment like this. She's a damn good cop.
 

They spoke for nearly three minutes before Sofia hung up. "He's on his way with two detectives and two uniformed officers," she says gravely. We wait in silence with one exception.

"Listen to me, Sofia," I say carefully. "Amber got her naïve ass in trouble the minute she got involved with Bennett. Do you think he ever would have let her simply leave the relationship when he got tired of her? He never would have risked exposure. This was inevitable. Her fate was never in your hands."

She shakes her head and looks away from me. I don't say another word, because I said my piece and she'll accept the truth or she won't. There will be no more prodding from me for the moment, but I'm relieved she was willing to hear what needed to be said.

A knock at the door a few moments later announced the arrival of Chief Ivanovich and his entourage. "Detective," he nods solemnly. "Mr. Pratt."

"Chief," Sofia greets in return. Introductions were made all around, and I reach to shake every hand, seeing by their expressions that everyone in the room has been briefed.
 

"You have made this very difficult," he glares at my woman. I know better than to say anything, but I don't like his tone. Sofia stares him down.
 

"Nervous, Chief? Should I put
you
on my list?" she says before she clenches her jaw. I force myself not to smirk as I watch her silently take the advantage. Her strong stance and intelligent eyes are not lost on this officer. He furrows his brow and releases a frustrated, angry breath.

"I wouldn't suggest that again if you want my help," he says plainly as he waves his fellow officers forward. "I only said this is a difficult situation, delicate even. You take
my
lead from this point forward. You're in
my
precinct."

"Yes sir," she says with dignity, still keeping eye contact. Her renewed strength astounds me. My phoenix is in full flight.

"Good," he nods. "Now show me what you found."

"We'll wrap this up soon," I nod. When we get to my truck I open the door for her like a gentleman. She looks at me in cautious surprise, but then shows understanding. For the moment, I want to comfort my girl, not kick ass with a cop. She sits down so I can close the door. I reach for her hand after I start the car and she accepts it stiffly. She looks out her window the entire ride back to my house.
 

"Come here," I say with determination when we walk in. I lead her to my room and toss her pajamas to her. "We're done for the day, and don't fucking argue with me. I don't care how early it is."

She grits her teeth but sees how serious I am. She hates when I get like this, but she knows I won't back down. I haven't made an attempt to direct her actions since her attack, and I still respect every choice is hers. My determination on this, however, is strong. Thankfully, she doesn't bother fighting me on the issue. She changes clothes while I brush my teeth. A few minutes later I'm pulling her to our bed.
 

"Come here," I say again, this time more softly. She rests her head on my chest and lets me wrap her up. I get one hand buried in her thick hair so I can massage the tension from her neck. My other hand keeps her tight against me.
 

"She didn't deserve that," she says quietly. "She was naïve and clueless, but she was sweet and trusting. I hate that bastard more now than before. It's white hot, Mason."

"I know," I say. "Do I need to tell you again this isn't your fault?"

"No," she says. "Because I don't want to hear it."

I gently pull her closer and let her rest quietly in my arms. I love when she relies on me like this. But still, she's standing stronger than I thought possible. I can only imagine the turmoil, and the raw nerves Amber's murder has grated. I'm sure Sofia remains satisfied Shank is dead, and unable to hurt anyone else. No solace can truly be had, however, knowing that John Bennett still holds his position.
 

"You've been my only strength," she whispers to me, leaving me in quiet shock. "This whole week, it's been you. I had nothing in me, but you were every exact thing I needed, because you understand.
You're
what kept me going."

I don't bother responding, because I know she doesn't need words. I'm not sure I would be able to answer her declaration appropriately anyway. She pulls herself against me tighter, seeming to need from me again. I understand what brought this side of her to me, and I cherish every piece of herself she'll give. I lock her tighter into my embrace. She pulls even more, actually needing me right now more than I realized. Truthfully, I love her strength, but being needed by Sofia DiGiacamo is indescribable. I keep myself calm for her and offer whatever of myself I can give. She pulls herself tighter against me still. She can have whatever she needs. "It's ok, I got you."

She tightens her grip around me yet again, and then eases enough to run her fingers through the stubble of my hair. I hold her, unbelievably satisfied. This connection is what I've been looking for my entire life, before I even knew it existed.
 

With the two of us, opposites don't attract. Sofia's strength that adds to mine, and we build each other higher. She challenges me into being more than I am. I do the same for her. Together we aren't opposites, we're
more
. We don't simply balance each other, we equal each other.

I kiss her forehead once and bury my hand in her hair again. I can almost hear her thinking about the ugly reality of this afternoon, but she remains calm in my arms.
 

"When the hell does this end?" she asks quietly. "We keep getting closer, but we can't get there."

"We'll figure that out tomorrow," I promise. "Once we hear from Bash, we'll have it. Between me, my brother, and my woman, this is all but finished."

The next morning, Sofia sleeps later than I've ever seen. Her mental and physical exhaustion has taken its toll. Part of me worries about her more than I should, but the rest of me knows she'll find her way back to herself sooner than anyone else would.
 

One quick text to Bash brings him over within fifteen minutes, driving a different rental car and looking nothing like Halden Fells in old jeans, tight t-shirt, and a bandana tied around his head. His old dog tags hang around his neck and his gate is deliberately relaxed.
 

"Wasn't followed, wasn't recognized. I did the superman change in a phone booth to knock them off the trail," he winks. He pours himself a cup of coffee and sits with me, wasting no more time on humor. "First, is Sofia ok?"

I stare at the table unsure how to answer that, so I don't bother. Bash regards me for a few moments and nods gravely. "I know you'll keep her going until she is."

I nod. What else can be said on the topic? I'm inclined to change the subject either way, but I need the details of his side. "You had fourteen days with the mayor and his asshole buddies. Tell me what you got."

"I've been working my businessman approach. These people are easier to pick than your locks."

"So what's your play?"

"Bennett's wife," he explains simply. "Evelyn. She's been starved for attention for too long. He parades her around at the important functions and at their city club, but beyond that she's ignored. He keeps her beautiful, but for his own benefit. He's an arrogant, evil son-of-a-bitch, and so damn easy to read. The wife is easy to manipulate, too."

"How far have you gotten with them?"

"The mayor's a little tougher. You have him on his guard, so I've spent most of my focus on the wife. I charmed them both when I introduced myself at the opening night of that museum exhibit. The mayor responded to my master-of-the-universe businessman routine. I knew he wouldn't be my easiest in, though, so every time he was shmoozing the other influential guests, I worked the baby-blues on the wife."

I sit and listen, taking in the information and appreciating my friend more than I ever have. He continues efficiently.

"I got him out to lunch a few times while you were entertaining his entire circle, and I brought him a box of Cuban cigars. He puffed up like a fucking peacock. I swear the baby blues work on him, too."

"Yeah, they always made me swoon," I offer like the smartass that I am.

"In spite of what you think, you aren't pretty enough for me at all. But you know, Junior, I'm not sure it was my blues or even my finesse that got to Evelyn. Honestly, I think anyone who looks so opposite from her husband would catch her eye at this point. By the end of the evening at the museum, I had her smiling and laughing. We charmingly grieved together over the loss of our youth. She tried to comfort me, offering the perspective that my graying temples only offer an air of sophistication."

"Wow, you do have her charmed," I shake my head.

"Shut the fuck up," he grins. "Anyway, I focused on making her feel young. I called her Evvie. I suggested letting her hair down or trading the twist for a ponytail. I asked how she looked in jeans. I swear she looked dreamy when she imagined herself so relaxed. I knew I could work that play to the hilt. The next day, when her worthless husband was at City Hall, I stopped by under the guise of dropping off some investment reports on my imaginary tech firm. She invited me in."

"And…"

"And I spent two hours doing nothing but listening. She was hooked by the silence I offered. The next day I insisted on lunch to discuss
her
involvement. I asked her opinion. The day after that, I took her to buy some jeans at a thrift store, then insisted she wear them to the same exhibit that afternoon so she could look at the art rather than be looked at. I actually felt guilty when she smiled. She didn't question my motivation at all. It's sad. She simply craved the idea of being important to someone. I hate being the bastard who manipulates her this time around. She seems like a decent person who was charmed too easily, the same evil way I'm playing with her now."

He shakes his head and I see a human side in him I'd never seen before. He'd always been the most calculated, mission-oriented of all of us. Apparently those graying temples represent more than age.