Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

N oah spent his morning watching over Annabelle while she ran another online art session with his sons. Hearing their joy as he paced the loft made him feel more complete than he had in years. The hushed murmur of their voices, their laughter, all wove together to make him feel home . It was a sense of rightness and belonging that’d been missing since Therese died, and he hoped she was there with their sons, enjoying the lesson too.

If ghosts even existed outside of his head.

After lunch, yet another street-food find by the triplets, Noah left Annabelle safely ensconced in the small office on the second floor, going over her testimony with the assistant district attorney. Today’s visit was a little different in that the ADA had brought along a technician with a boatload of specialist audiovisual equipment to trial.

The new setup had made their resident geek giddy at the sight of it. Designed to take highly sensitive court testimony at a distance, it was supposedly impervious to hacking and physical tampering. Of course, telling a hacker something was hack-proof was like waving a red flag to a bull, and it’d taken Evan exactly ten minutes to get the ADA to officially invite him to test the system. He hadn’t stopped grinning since.

But before Evan could run off to his happy place, Rochelle asked for a debrief on their progress with Eddie Hanson’s money.

“We think we’ve found all of Eddie’s personal money and most of the Demons’ accounts too.” Impatience rendered Evan unable to sit still. “And, with Abasi’s help, we finished taking it this morning. Go us!” He held up his hand for a high five. Abasi just stared at it until Evan dropped it again.

“How much are we looking at?” Rochelle asked, her elbows resting on the desk in front of her.

Evan bounced in his chair. “Close to forty million.”

There was a stunned silence while the team processed that information.

“I know. It isn’t much,” Abasi said at last. “But you need to remember they’re still a relatively small and new operation. Plus, that amount doesn’t take into account their assets.”

Noah almost laughed at his blasé attitude. “Forty million sure sounds like a lot of money to me.”

“And that’s why you aren’t a criminal.”

“Yeah,” Noah drawled. “ That’s the only reason.”

Abasi cocked an eyebrow. “Escobar’s fortune was around thirty billion when he died. The Gambino family was worth about five hundred million during Gotti’s reign. Makes forty million seem like small change.”

Rochelle sat back in her seat. “So, we have forty million worth of small change in a hidden, secure account, right?”

“Yep.” Evan grinned. “But it doesn’t need to stay there. If we split it, we could all retire on our share. It’d be roughly four and a half million each.”

“When you think about it,” Harris said morosely, “that wouldn’t go very far in today’s economy. Bloody Boomers and their inflation,” he muttered.

“The money won’t stay there,” Rochelle said firmly. “And it isn’t going into our pockets either. Forty million will go a long way toward helping people the Demons have hurt. Katrina, do you have access to the account?”

It was Evan who answered. “I set her up this morning.”

Rochelle pinned him with her schoolteacher stare. “And you’re absolutely sure there’s no way any donations made from that account can be traced back to us or the Demons?”

“She can throw it around like confetti.” Evan sounded confident. “There won’t be any blowback.”

“Good.” Rochelle nodded at Katrina. “Start giving it away.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Katrina said. “Are you sure you want only me to handle it? Aren’t you worried I might just transfer it all to my account and disappear?”

Rochelle smiled reassuringly. “Pull in help if it makes you feel better, but I have no problem trusting you to distribute the money.” She cast a glance around the room, her eyes sparkling. “Couldn’t say the same for the rest of you.”

“Wise woman.” Abasi grinned at her.

“Does the money have to be donated in America?” Katrina traced a pattern on the desk in front of her with her fingertip. “There’s a small group in Invertary, Scotland that works with abused women; they could use some help too.”

“Like I said, whatever you think fits. Just do good with it.” Rochelle turned back to the rest of the team and was about to say something more when the office door burst open.

“What the hell have you done now?” Detective Johnson stalked into the room, his partner in tow.

“And are there more donuts?” McMillan glanced around, looking hopeful.

Noah had grabbed his gun at their unannounced entrance, and from the way his team was discreetly re-holstering their weapons, he wasn’t the only one.

Rochelle gave the detectives a weary look before addressing Violet, who stood behind them. “I thought we talked about not letting anyone into the building without telling me first.”

Violet shrugged. “I figured the Keystone Cops were exempt. Just be grateful I escorted them up here and didn’t let them wander around on their own.” With that, she turned on her heel and left.

“It’s nothing personal,” Rochelle told the detectives as they helped themselves to coffee. “It’s about security.”

“Forget it. We have bigger problems.” Johnson pulled out a chair. “Somebody tried to take out Eddie Hanson about an hour ago. Please tell me it wasn’t you.”

Noah sat forward in his seat. “It wasn’t us. Seriously, the whole team has been here and accounted for all morning.”

“And I suppose the only corroboration you have for these alibis is from each other?” McMillan drawled, frowning at the lack of snacks to go with his coffee.

“You want to tell us what happened?” Noah asked, ignoring the sugar-deprived detective.

It was his younger partner who replied. “Somebody drove by Eddie’s place and emptied an automatic weapon into his living room. Unfortunately for them, but not for Eddie, he wasn’t home at the time.” Johnson shared a worried glance with his partner. “We’re not exactly sure where he was… or where he is now.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Rochelle glared at the detectives. Who, to their credit, looked ashamed. “You’ve lost the head of the Demon Brothers? How’s that even possible? I thought you were monitoring his every move?”

Johnson pinched the bridge of his nose. His suit wasn’t as pristinely pressed as usual, and he had dark circles under his eyes. “We’re still trying to figure out what happened. There was a mix-up over whose shift it was, and during the surveillance gap, he disappeared.”

“Your mole,” Noah said. “That’s what happened. Somebody was behind the shift mix-up, and it bought Eddie just enough time to take off. Do you have any idea who the mole is yet?”

McMillan shifted in his seat, his crinkled shirt straining over his ample belly. Unlike his partner’s, McMillan’s shirt had probably never been pressed. “You know, we do have more than one case to deal with at a time. Oh yeah, and our area of responsibility doesn’t end at the warehouse door. We have a whole city to police. So, no, we haven’t found the mole yet.”

Noah held up his hands, palms out. “No criticism. Just wondering. Sounds like your mole’s been disrupting things again. Got any ideas where Eddie might be?”

“All we know is that he’s still in Texas.” Johnson swallowed a mouthful of the coffee and grimaced. “What the hell is this?”

“ That is what you get when you let Scottish people make coffee.” Rochelle frowned. “It’s an abomination to your taste buds.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes fixed on his coffee mug as though something might emerge from it any second and bite her.

Johnson apparently shared her sentiment, as he set the mug on the desk in front of him as if it were an unexploded bomb.

McMillan happily continued to drink his. “Are you sure you didn’t get fed up waiting for Hanson to strike and decide to get rid of the problem? I mean, we wouldn’t blame you if you did. It would just be good to know so we don’t spend a whole day chasing a fictional gunman all over Houston.”

Nobody bought his “we’re all friends here together” act. McMillan couldn’t pull off understanding if his life depended on it.

“If we wanted to eliminate Hanson,” Abasi drawled, “you’d have found his body. But we don’t do that sort of thing. We’re the good guys now. Ain’t that right, Boss?”

“I think that’s stretching it a tad,” Rochelle said drolly.

As Abasi flashed her a grin, Johnson’s phone rang, followed quickly by McMillan’s. The detectives answered, listened for a few seconds, and then got to their feet. The door opened while they were ending their calls, and the ADA poked her head in.

“My boss just rang,” she said. “What’s this about Eddie Hanson going missing? He wants me back at the office ASAP to devise a crisis plan in case the trial doesn’t go ahead. My technician’s packing everything up with Annabelle’s help, and then we’re leaving straight away.”

“We have bigger problems than Eddie’s absence,” McMillan said, tugging his waistband back up onto his belly. “Somebody’s attacking the Demon Brothers, and the boss wants everyone on the streets.”

“Attacking?” Rochelle asked, her gaze laser focused on the cops.

McMillan looked weary. “We’ve got two gangbangers down and fights breaking out all over the city. Don’t know what the hell’s going on, but if we don’t get it stopped, we’re looking at full-blown gang warfare.”

Violet’s angry voice drifted in through the open door. “Carry your own damn equipment down the stairs. Do I look like a bloody porter?”

Margaret Grant glanced over her shoulder and winced. “I’d better go before Violet shoots my technician. Keep me posted,” she ordered the detectives.

“We live to serve,” McMillan muttered.

“We need to get a move on, Mac.” Johnson followed her out the door.

“That’s my cue to go,” the older detective said.

Outside in the corridor, Johnson could be heard saying, “Here, I’ll help with that. I’m heading down anyway.”

“Looks like the tech found a porter after all.” Rodrigo grinned at them.

“There goes my chance at hacking a state-of-the-art secure communications setup.” Evan looked close to tears.

“I’m sure you’ll get another chance.” Harris patted his brother on the head like a dog.

“Not today, though,” the depressed little puppy said.

“You got any more information you can share?” Noah asked McMillan as he lumbered toward the door.

McMillan sighed heavily as he attempted to brush a stain from his shirt as if it were lint. Funnily enough, it didn’t work. “Sounds like the Demons have pissed off a South American cartel. That’s all I know.”

“Did they say which one?”

“Alvarez,” McMillan said. “They’re one of the smaller operations, but we’ve been seeing a lot of their product in the city over the past couple of years.” As he reached the door, Johnson shouted from downstairs for him to hurry. “Don’t shoot anybody while we’re gone.”

Once he’d left, Noah turned to face his team. “Alvarez.”

“Guess they realized their money was gone and they don’t have any women to show for it.” Rochelle stood and pulled on her gray suit jacket.

As she did so, the ADA walked back into the room. “Just wanted to let you know that Eddie’s been spotted in Houston Heights. Looks like he hasn’t skipped town after all. Unfortunately, my boss still needs to see me, so I’m going into the office.” She shrugged. “My tech’s left with the equipment we need, anyway. Guess we’re trying that out another day. The sooner this trial is over the better.”

“Amen to that,” Noah agreed.

As the ADA left, Rochelle turned to Evan. “Are we absolutely sure Eddie Hanson can’t trace his missing money back to us?”

“Absolutely,” he said solemnly.

Abasi nodded in agreement. “It’s hidden the same way my money’s hidden. And I’m confident nobody’s ever gonna find that.”

“Remind me again,” Logan said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Exactly how much money are we talking here?”

Abasi just stared at him in silence.

Rodrigo held up his phone. “Got a message from a friend saying the Alvarez cartel’s out for blood. The drug house we busted, the women we intercepted, and the money we took are just the icing on the cake. They’re more worried about Hanson’s upcoming trial.”

“There really is a war coming,” Harris said, looking worried.

“Maybe we should hand the money over to the police,” Katrina said. “If there’s a gang war, a lot of innocent people will get caught in the crossfire. I’d hate for law enforcement officers to be hurt because of what we started.”

“Won’t make any difference.” Rodrigo tipped his chair back to a precarious angle and balanced on its two back legs while talking. “This isn’t about the money. It’s about Eddie’s failures. I’m betting he promised the cartel he’d take care of the witness and the trial wouldn’t go ahead, but every attempt he’s made to do that has been botched. Time’s running out, and the Alvarez cartel can’t risk having someone like Eddie turn on them. He knows too much. Add to that the national attention he’s drawn over the past few months, and the cartel will be getting antsy. The Demons have become a weak link in the Alvarez business empire. They have no choice but to bring down the motorcycle gang. All taking the money did was move the deadline forward a few days.”

“Are you saying Hanson has to get rid of Annabelle or the Alvarez cartel will kill him?” Noah’s blood chilled.

Rodrigo nodded. “There’s a chance he could turn state’s evidence to avoid the death penalty. But even if he does keep his mouth shut, with him in jail, there’s nothing to stop law enforcement from putting pressure on the weak links in the Demon Brothers gang. Somebody would eventually crack and sell everything they know about the Alvarez cartel.”

“So even though the cartel’s starting a war with his gang, Eddie’s priority will still be to eliminate the witness,” Noah said, an instinctive dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

Abasi and Rodrigo shared a heavy look.

“Yeah,” Rodrigo said.

“I need to get Annabelle into the panic room.” Noah strode from the office. “She can stay there until the trial starts.”

Whether she wanted to or not.