Miscarriage Of Justice (21 page)

Frankie Arimante could see she was perturbed and he knew why. The anger she displayed warned him of the coming lecture, and with a quick hand gesture, the two men seated with him made a hasty retreat into the kitchen area.

Before they had disappeared through the batwing doors, Mariana launched into her heated tirade. “So much for your guarantee,” she railed. “Your week was up two days ago and yesterday Ethan called me, not once, but twice!”

Meeting his eye with a vicious stare, she continued. “I thought you were a professional. Why is the man still harassing me?”

Frankie almost laughed. The sassy little D.A. was so cute when she was mad. Trying to maintain a straight face, he calmly invited her to have a seat.

Standing stubbornly in place, a hand on one hip, Mariana defiantly refused.

Shrugging, Frankie spoke in a calm matter-of-fact tone. “I know I said a week, but it took several days to find him.”

“That’s not my problem,” Mariana spat.

“No, it’s not,” Frankie agreed. “We did finally locate him in a hotel in Fulton.”

“So, what’s the hold up then?”

Frankie seemed put off at being interrupted and needlessly challenged and questioned. He wasn’t used to anyone, much less a nagging woman, demanding he justify his every move. Trying unsuccessfully to mask his disgust, he took another breath. “We found him at the hotel, but one of my men, who I sent to verify the location, bungled the job. Ethan left the hotel and we’re trying to get a fix on him again now.”

Frankie Arimante knew the wrath and scorn of a woman when he saw it and didn’t have to be told the woman in front of him was incensed. He could feel the steely eyes of contempt as Mariana stared hard, obviously unimpressed at the explanation. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll find him before the day is over.”

“And I suppose you’ll send the same incompetent buffoon to take care of him again?”

“The ‘buffoon’ as you say, has been ah, dealt with. Let’s just say he no longer works for me.” Frankie stood, signaling an end to their meeting. “Give me a couple more days.”

Mariana got the distinct impression he was just placating her, and not at all serious. But, despite the brush-off, this was the best that she could do, her only hope of getting rid of Ethan. She didn’t really have much choice but to accept his explanation, and hope he’d find Ethan soon.

Managing a show of being the one in control of the situation, she said, “I trust this time you can get the job done. Or,” she paused for what little effect it was worth, “our deal is off.”

Frankie didn’t take well to being threatened, particularly by a woman. But this woman held a certain power and clout he could use, and he let it go. Still, it irked him. Silently, he cursed her as she walked to the door. This guy Ethan was close to taking his last breath, even if it meant taking care of him personally.

Mariana knew she’d gotten under the man’s skin, as she had intended. Actually, knowing she hadn’t provided much information in the first place, she was rather surprised he’d found Ethan so quickly. But she wasn’t about to let Frankie know that.

The fact Ethan had disappeared again was frustrating, but Mariana tried to think positively. Frankie seemed confident he could find the man again and she hoped he was right. With all the tracking of information by virtually every business on earth, it was next to impossible not to leave a paper trail these days, so maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult.

Pulling up to her office, parking outside on the street as lately she’d begun to do, Mariana quickly forgot her woes. Engrossed in her work, she didn’t notice the phone ringing until her secretary said, “That’s your line.”

Without having time to consider whether or not it would be Ethan, she answered the phone. After a brief pause, she almost hung up. Then she heard Jessi’s familiar voice.

“What are you up to?”

“Working,” Mariana said sharply. Then realizing she’d snapped at her friend, she said in a softer tone. “Some of us have to do that you know.”

“Hey, I work,” Jessi insisted.

“Yeah, right. Does your job now consist of calling your friends?”

“Not really,” Jessi answered. “Only the ones I’m worried about, which at the moment is just you.”

“Why are you worried about me?” Mariana asked innocently.

“Because I haven’t heard from you since I was down there, and as I recall, you had a certain lunatic trying to kill you.” Jessi retorted.

“I’m fine,” Mariana told her. “As you can see, or hear actually, I’m very much alive.”

“Has Ethan called anymore?” Jessi pressed. “Or come to visit?”

“Um…” Mariana hesitated, uncomfortable discussing the issue in the office setting. Glancing around nervously she said, “I’ll call you back.”

As the rest of the day dragged on, she nervously chewed her lip and found herself frequently staring out the window, dreading the conversation she knew would be coming with Jessi. Her friend was pretty good at getting information out of people, while she herself was woefully incapable of not blabbing while being pressured by a friendly interrogator, especially Jessi.

She decided not to mention Ethan’s visit while she’d been in the shower, or his other activities. And even though it had been her friend’s idea, she wasn’t about to bring up Frankie Arimante and the deal they’d struck.

Leaving work early, at two minutes past four, she dialed Jessi’s number on her way home in the car. “Don’t say anything,” she reminded herself as the phone rang.

As if she’d been sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring, Jessi answered immediately. “Start talking,” the impatient nurse demanded. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Mariana responded evasively.

“Uh-uh. Something is going on. The way you shut right up when I mentioned Ethan today.”

“I just didn’t want to talk about the subject in front of everyone at the office,” Mariana insisted.

“It’s more than that. This is Jessi, remember? I know you. I can hear it in your voice that something isn’t right.”

“Honest,” Mariana continued her charade. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Has Ethan called?”

“Well, yeah, he has. But only a couple of times. That’s nothing new.”

“Has he been back to your house?”

Mariana bit her lip. “No.” she said.

“You’re lying,” Jessi accused. “I can tell.”

“Okay. He’s been there, but...”

“You’re going to have to do something about this sooner or later,” Jessi warned. “You know that, right?”

“Hm, maybe,” Mariana avoided the question. Then projecting her usual optimism she said, “It’s no big deal. I can handle it.”

“Until he kills you!”

“Look,” Mariana said. “You don’t need to worry about me. In a few days it’ll all be over.” Instantly, she kicked herself. This is what she’d been afraid would happen. She hadn’t meant to say it; the words had just sort of slipped out. A subconscious effort to quell the grilling from Jessi, she supposed.

“And how do you know that?”

Sighing Mariana said, “I just know.”

“Okay. Now you’ve got me worried,” Jessi breathed. “What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did anything?” Mariana protested.

“You wouldn’t be so confident this would be over in a few days unless you knew something,” Jessi pointed out.

“All you need to know,” Mariana said, “is that it’ll all be over soon.”

“Why do I have to drag every bit of information out of you?” Jessi lamented. “I am your friend, you know. And you can trust me.”

Mariana took another deep breath. This is exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. She should’ve known better. She did know better. Yet, for some reason she’d tried to buffalo her friend anyway. “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll tell you. I hired a guy to get rid of him.” The words came in a rush, like she found them distasteful and wanted to get it over with.

“Get rid of him?” Jessi sounded suspicious. “How?”

“You know, just get rid of him.”

“Permanently? As in dead?”

“Yes.”

“You hired a hit man?” Jessi was incredulous. “What were you thinking?”

“It was your idea,” Mariana reminded her.

“I was joking.” Jessi said in dismay. “I didn’t expect you to actually do it.”

“You also said I was going to have to do something sooner or later. Well, I did.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. What happens when you get caught?”

“I don’t plan on being caught,” said Mariana dryly.

“No, not until the guy you hired tries to blackmail you. What are you going to do then?”

“He won’t,” Mariana replied confidently. “He owes me a favor.”

“Well, I’d say that his debt is paid,” Jessi remarked. “And someday, he’ll decide it’s you who owes him.”

“No. We have an ongoing deal. As long as I’m the D.A., he’ll never face any charges in Lincoln County.”

“Who is this guy?” Jessi exclaimed “Mr. Mafia?”

“Sort of,” Mariana said.

“You’ll regret this,” Jessi predicted. It was obvious she didn’t approve, though she was a little reluctant to condemn her friend for it. She knew Mariana had been through a lot and understood her plight, just not her thinking.

“Maybe,” Mariana didn’t sound convinced. She was still fuming and berating herself for bringing it up at all. Jessi was smart enough to keep her mouth shut; still, she would have preferred that no one knew anything.

“I knew there was something going on,” Jessi said. “And you tell me there’s nothing to worry about!”

“You’re the one who wanted to know,” Mariana told her.

Jessi tried to talk her friend out of going through with the deal, but Mariana informed her it was too late. Before hanging up Jessi said, “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, but by tomorrow I should be doing just fine. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”

Mariana had finished the conversation sitting in her driveway. Now she got out of the car and as had become her routine, circled the house before going in, checking for signs of unwanted visitors. Seeing nothing out of place she started to unlock the door when she noticed a white envelope taped to the knocker. Perplexed, she snatched it up, frowning slightly as she read the return address. “Thurston Plumbing.” The rest of the envelope was blank. Plainly, it was not from Ethan.

“What would a plumber be doing here?” she muttered sliding her key into the lock. Laying the envelope on the back of her chair, the absent-minded attorney forgot about it and began fixing supper. Half an hour later, suddenly remembering the strange envelope, she hurried back to the living room and scooped it up. Tearing the end off, she discovered a handwritten note inside. With another puzzled frown, she read the short message.

“Sorry we missed you. Please call to reschedule.” It was signed “John. Thurston Plumbing.”

A little confused, Mariana stared at the paper. She hadn’t made an appointment with anyone, especially a plumber! Was this another of Ethan’s pranks? Shrugging, she returned to the kitchen. Talk about jumping to conclusions! Maybe the plumber had made a legitimate mistake and simply stopped at the wrong house. It certainly wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine that happening given the ineptitude of most businesses these days.

Dropping the envelope and note into the trash she went back to her cooking. And her thinking. Maybe Jessi was right. Okay, there was no maybe about it, Jessi was definitely right. But that didn’t change her predicament. So, it was either go through with this, or put up with Ethan’s shenanigans for the rest of her life. Always with the very real possibility of him telling what he knew hanging over her head. This way certainly eliminated that. And still, she knew Jessi was right.

She was only trading one set of problems for another. Frankie could easily spill his guts anytime he chose. Yet, he didn’t have thirty or so color pictures to back up his story. And he clearly benefited from their pact as much as she did, probably more. So, he shouldn’t be too inclined to rat her out and throw all of that away. Additionally, he wouldn’t be constantly harassing her; at least she thought he wouldn’t. That was definitely a huge plus in her favor!

While her decision may not have been a moral or ethical one, she felt it was the correct one for her situation. The only choice she had, she kept telling herself. The lesser of two evils. Besides, as she had told Jessi, it was a little too late to change it now. By this time, Frankie Arimante had surely located Ethan again. Maybe the guy was already dead.

She felt neither remorse nor joy at the thought, though an immense hopeful relief did accompany it. Undeniably, the prospect had her in good spirits.

Supper was done and Mariana still contemplated her dilemma. Analyzing the quandary she was in served only to intensify her anger. Ultimately, the bottom line was she simply didn’t care if the action she’d taken was right or wrong. Life isn’t fair. Everyone loses at times. She’d had her share of troubles, like everyone else. At the moment however, she was winning, or thought she was anyway. As long as that was the case, she intended to press on and take full advantage of it. Ethan could bite the bullet, so to speak, and take it like a man.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A new house offers a wealth of possibilities and Ethan was reveling in the experience. The cozy one-bedroom home was a far cry from the ten by ten stone cell, and a major improvement over the tiny hotel room. The fenced backyard and lilac trees reminded him of Jenna and then his sons, Austin and Cody. They would have loved this place. The inside of the house was exceptionally clean, and smelled of new carpet and fresh paint. For over an hour, Ethan explored every nook and cranny, before finally returning to the living room. The house was perfect, except for one thing. Furniture. The lack of it left the rooms empty and bare. Kind of lonely.

Not much could be done about the loneliness he decided. He’d left the only prospect of having a companion, Lacy, eighty-five miles away in another town. Briefly entertaining the pleasant thought of the gorgeous saleslady, who had seemed interested in him, he scowled, knowing it would never work out. Not yet anyway. Not until his business with Mariana with finished. Maybe then he could think of finding a girlfriend and having a life. Just when that might be, he didn’t know.