The Mistaken (9 page)

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Authors: Nancy S Thompson

Tags: #Suspense, #Organized Crime, #loss, #death, #betrayal, #revenge, #Crime, #Psychological, #action, #action suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: The Mistaken
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“Relax, love. She will be...eventually. It won’t
change us having to take the time to clear things up on your end
though. You need to be patient.”

“Ugh! I’m so tired of hearing that,” I said as I
paced the floor. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime, huh?
There’s not enough room for us here. We’re already bursting at the
seams, and it’s just not safe with all this clutter. We need a
bigger place, Tyler, and I won’t have the time or energy to deal
with moving
after
the baby comes. Don’t you understand
that?”

“I understand you’re a bit overwrought right now,
love. All those pregnancy hormones are wreaking havoc on your
emotions.”

My chin dropped. “So because I’m taking those
goddamn pills, this is just me being hormonal, is that it? Like I
don’t have a legitimate reason to be upset about all this, huh? Let
me tell you something, if someone was messing with
your
perfect world, you’d be pissed, too,” I said, poking him in the
chest, but then I pulled back. “Oh wait, I’m sorry, I forgot. Mr.
Law-Abiding-Citizen here is content to just sit around and wait for
that chucklehead DA to get off his ass and do his job. You’d never
think to stray outside the rules to see to my interests, would you?
Hell, no! And God forbid I should wander from the straight and
narrow either, right? Tell me, Ty, do you ever get tired of being
so self-righteous? God knows I do.” I pointed my finger toward the
door. “That bitch is ruining my life, my reputation. But hey, it’s
no big deal, huh?” I waved my hands at him. “Whatever.”

My tone was mocking and flippant. Hell, it was
downright mean, but Ty just stood there with his hands on his hips
and let me rant, never once retorting with a biting reply. His
patience made me hate myself even more, but I couldn’t seem to
control my outbursts. I knew it was probably time to get back on
the meds, that I should muscle through the side effects, but I
couldn’t stomach the idea of months of sleepless nights and endless
nausea. And I didn’t want the baby exposed either, even if there
were currently no known risks. You never knew what would be
discovered in the future, and surely, a little anger and
frustration was preferable to exposure to chemicals.

“Okay, look,” Ty said. “I can move our desks out of
the den and that can be the nursery for now. I’ll get a storage
unit and clean out the entire house, make it safe. It won’t be
forever, Jill. I promise. It’ll all work out, you’ll see. And if
that’s not enough, maybe we can just rent a bigger place until we
get a loan approved again. All right?”

I rolled my eyes. “And keep flushing our money down
the toilet? Yeah, that’s a great plan, Ty. Terrific.”

“Come on, work with me here. It won’t take that
long, only a few more months or so. In the meantime, I need you to
focus on the baby, on staying calm. Okay? For me?”

I groaned in reply, but nodded for his sake. I’d
already tried it his way, to let it go, to make the best of a bad
situation, but that didn’t work for me anymore. I wasn’t going to
just accept it and wait for things to get better on their own, or
worse, wait for the cops and DA to get off their collective
bureaucratic ass. I would figure something out on my own, and God
help that woman when I did.

Chapter Nine

Jillian

 

I lay in bed all night thinking, staring into the
darkness, but the solution to my problem was elusive. I thought
about asking Uncle Joey for help. He would love the opportunity to
demonstrate his influence, to bang a few heads together for the
benefit of a loved one. But my father complicated that idea. He
barely tolerated his brother. It was all I could do just to get
Uncle Joey invited to my wedding. My dad was embarrassed by his
brother’s entanglement with “the family,” a nefarious organization
that had been operating in the neighborhood for countless
generations. He believed it endorsed the Italian-American
stereotype he tried so hard to disprove through honest, hard
work.

My father had seen up close and personal just how
Uncle Joey and his associates operated, several times from what I
remember. I’d heard my parents arguing over it when I was little.
My dad worried endlessly that my mom, sister, and I would be
exposed to such a dangerous element, so I knew he would be
disappointed if he ever found out I had used Uncle Joey to work
around the law. And I couldn’t delude myself into believing that
Uncle Joey wouldn’t take the first opportunity to tell my dad
either. It was a matter of pride between brothers. Uncle Joey
always wanted to show his worth, to give credence to his value and
choice of lifestyle. That his brother’s daughter would come to him
for help, instead of her own father, would provide years of bitter
resentment and conflict. So, as tempting as it was, Uncle Joey was
definitely out.

Then there was Nick. I was very reluctant to involve
him, as well, but at least it wouldn’t get back to my father if I
did, though Tyler was a different story. Just like my dad and his
brother, Ty would never approve of me involving Nick. After
everything that had happened and the choice Nick had made, there
was no way Ty would accept his brother sticking his nose into our
business. But I couldn’t think of a better alternative.

Always the one to follow every rule, Tyler was
unwilling to do anything but wait, and the authorities would likely
sit on my case for months. I couldn’t just accept that someone out
there was screwing with my life, that she could steal our dream of
owning a home. Next, she would likely take the very food from our
mouths. That was unacceptable. The stress and frustration of doing
nothing consumed me. My stomach blazed with it in constant
irritation. And though I burned through too many bottles of Tums to
count, I still wasn’t willing to start back on my anxiety meds.
Surely dealing with and solving my own problem was far healthier
for me and the baby than relying on drugs.

After turning over every detail and possible
scenario, I finally decided to call Nick in the morning and at
least ask his advice. Besides Uncle Joey, I didn’t know anyone else
who associated with criminals, and the way I figured, who better to
deal with one felon than another? So after Ty left for work in the
morning, I called Nick and invited him over for coffee. Half an
hour later, he was knocking at my door.

“Hey Jilly. You look lovely, as always,” he said,
greeting me with a kiss and a bear hug. “God, I’ve missed you.”

His green eyes sparkled, and he beamed his signature
grin. Save his eyes, Nick’s face was the very image of his
brother’s, only younger, but he stood nearly two inches taller, all
bones and wiry muscle, like he hadn’t quite grown into his body
yet. Whereas Ty’s close-cropped hair was dark, Nick’s was a dusky,
burnished gold, bleached in the blazing sun of his youth. It hung
in long, thick waves across his forehead and over his collar,
brushing the black leather jacket that fit snugly across his
shoulders. He looked both playful and dangerous all at once.

But it was his speech that exposed the greatest
difference. Nick’s twangy Australian accent was considerably
sharper than Tyler’s, which, true to his Anglo roots, sounded more
British, though even that had softened and was now slightly nuanced
with an American timbre. Ty was twelve when his family moved from
London to Melbourne. Nick was so young—not quite four years
old—that his speech was more affected by the move. And Nick hadn’t
been in the States as long, just over four years compared to Ty’s
ten. But stranger still was the clipped tone Nick had taken on
lately, which I assumed was due to time spent with his new Russian
friends.

“Thanks for coming over, Nick. I really appreciate
it.”

Though he seemed reluctant to let go, I backed out
of his embrace and looked into his eyes. He stared back with a
curious longing I had never seen before.

“Sure, sweetheart. It’s never a problem. You know
that, don’t you?”

He reached out and, with remarkable tenderness,
tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Then his fingers traced
along my jaw before his hand fell back to his side. The gesture
felt intensely intimate, even for Nick. I stuffed my hands into my
pockets and took a step back, dropping my gaze to the floor as a
warm flush swam through me. Nick sighed, but it sounded like
frustration to me. I peered back up and tried to smile.

“So, what’s all the drama about?” he asked.

“Well, I um… I have a problem, and I can’t figure
out a way to fix it. I was hoping you might help me out
somehow.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong? Ty not treating you right?” His
tone was light-hearted, but I picked up on a subtle signal that he
was only too willing to step in and save the day, should I ask.

I waved my hand. “No, everything’s good there. My
problem is with someone else.”

I took a few minutes and told Nick about the house
Tyler and I had found, and how we’d lost it. I explained Erin
Anderson’s role and the DA’s unwillingness to move forward. He
acted just as sympathetic as his brother, but unlike Ty, Nick
didn’t just leave it at that.

“And what would you like me to do about it?” he
asked, his posture as forthright as the unspoken word in his eye
that told me he would do whatever I asked.

But I wasn’t quite sure
how
to ask, because I
really didn’t know what I was asking for myself. I stammered,
unable to find the right words, and embarrassed that I would stoop
to begging for his help when all he’d ever received from me and Ty
was harsh judgment for his poor choices. It felt hypocritical, to
say the least, but I felt I had little choice.

Nick closed the gap between us and captured my hand.
“Spit it out, Jilly. There’s a reason why you asked me to help and
not Ty.”

“That’s the problem right there. Ty won’t
do
anything. He won’t even try, and he doesn’t want me to either.
According to him, I’m just supposed to suck it up and wait for the
authorities to take care of everything.”

Nick chuckled. “Of course. You know Ty. A regular
Dudley Do-Right, that one.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Can’t say I expect anything different.”

“I
can. I expect him to help. I am his wife
after all.”

“Well,
I
would do anything for you, Jilly.
You only have to ask. You know that, right?”

I could only nod silently.

“So, what’ll it be then? You want me to talk to that
woman, straighten her out a bit?”

He had a hard glint in his eye, easily considered
mean if you didn’t know him, and I wasn’t so sure I did any more,
so it even made me a little nervous. But I suppose that was exactly
why I had called Nick in the first place.

I bit my lip, unable to keep my eyes level with his.
“Well, something like that, I guess. I mean, I’m not really sure. I
just want her to admit what she’s done, you know. I want her in
jail where she belongs. And I want my life back,” I said, throwing
up my arm.

He snickered. “I don’t know if I can manage all
that, but I’m sure my friends and I can scare the holy hell out of
her anyway. Not sure what good it’ll do, but I can try, if you’d
like.” Nick winked and pulled my hand up to his lips. “I’ll do
whatever you need me to, Jilly.” He stroked my cheek with the back
of his fingers.

I attempted to snatch my hand away. “Nick, come on,”
I scolded. While I was used to his casual flirtations, his latest
effort had ticked up considerably, and it was making me very
uncomfortable. “I’m serious.”

“What? You think I’m not?” He dropped my hand and
smoothed over the hurt look in his eyes. “Okay, I get it. Message
received, loud and clear.”

I reached for his hand. “No, Nick, that’s not what I
meant.”

He raised both hands in the air. “No, it’s okay,
really. I understand.” He wagged his finger back and forth between
us. “This is business, right? Well, I’m your man, whatever you
need, sweetheart. I’ll just go pay Ms. Anderson a visit and see if
we can...work something out. I’ll let you know how it goes. Good
enough?”

I nodded once more, feeling guilty, but oddly
relieved.

“Good. Now come here.” He held his arms out wide. “I
promise not to bite.”

I walked forward and Nick folded his arms around me
once more. He placed his chin on top of my head like I was his kid
sister, though the way he rubbed my back felt much more
intimate.

“I’ll take care of everything. You’ll see.” He
kissed my forehead, slow and tender.

“Thanks, Nick. I knew you’d help.” I rested my hands
along his waist. “I’ve missed you, too, you know. So has Ty.”

He snorted in disbelief. “Yeah right.” He clamped
his arms down around my expanding belly and started to tickle me
around the ribs.

My initial giggling quickly turned into sharp
squeals as I twisted to escape his arms. We were both laughing hard
when the door to the garage swung open and Tyler burst into the
room. His eyes shot back and forth between me and Nick. His look of
surprise morphed quickly into suspicion as his eyes narrowed and
his lips pressed together. He didn’t look too happy to see Nick,
especially with his arms locked around me. I tried to break free,
but Nick tightened his grip, smiling at his brother with a
greeting.

“Ty, old man. How the bloody hell are you?” Nick
pushed me back at arm’s length and winked before turning to Ty with
a wide grin splitting his boyish face.

“Nick,” Ty acknowledged dryly as he shook his
brother’s outstretched hand. He shot me another suspicious glance
before he turned back to Nick. “It’s been a while. What brings you
here?”

“Oh, come on, do I really need a reason to see my
big brother and his lovely bride? Actually, I just wanted to see
how fat little Jilly was getting,” he explained as he rubbed his
palm over my extended belly. Nick laughed when I slapped his hand
away. “I think the old girl is filling out quite nicely, don’t you,
brother?”

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