Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco), page 32
Ignoring the multitude of blooming irises seemingly mocking her, Sadie knocked on the door. It opened immediately, as if Naomi had been standing on the other side waiting for Sadie’s arrival.
Naomi smiled. “Come in,” she said, opening the door wider.
Sadie’s lips tightened to prevent lashing out at her. She stepped inside. Had to play this right. She wanted the bitch to confess everything. The door closed behind her.
Keep your cool.
Naomi floated past her and toward the living room without a word. Sadie’s nose wrinkled at the smell that wafted behind her.
“Are you . . .” Sadie wandered into the living room. “Are you smoking weed?”
Naomi picked up the generously sized joint and took a long drag. She held the smoke deep in her lungs; then, as she exhaled, she said, “I am. So, I’m outed, am I?”
For a moment Sadie wondered if Naomi already realized just how far she’d been outed.
“You are.” Sadie took a seat across the coffee table from her. The weapon nestled against the small of her back scrubbed at her bare skin. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“I couldn’t stay at that lovely resort,” Naomi announced with a big breathy sigh. “Though I do appreciate your thinking of my safety. I was never afraid.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Sadie removed the thumb drive from her front pocket and tossed it on the table. “I thought you might want this.”
Naomi stared at the incredibly small device and laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned. I searched this house from top to bottom and never found that thing. I caught Asher with it once, and I knew he had something incriminating hidden on it, but I just couldn’t find it.”
“I have only one question for you, Iris.”
Naomi laughed again. Probably the weed.
“Did you kill Asher?”
Shock claimed her face. “Of course not! How could you say such a thing? I loved him.”
Images of Asher’s smile, his eyes, flashed across Sadie’s vision, sparking a powerful need for revenge. “Why don’t you tell me who did?”
Naomi carefully tapped out the fire at the end of her joint and settled the remainder on the edge of the ashtray. “I thought Lee had done it.”
“His father?” Surprise trickled through Sadie, though it shouldn’t have. The bastard apparently had a lot to lose.
“I’m sure you’ve established the identity of Harvard.” Naomi said this with a sort of nonchalance that warned she was as high as a kite.
Sadie nodded. “I never could get right with the whole parent-killing-the-kid thing.” Not entirely true but she had to keep the conversation going. Either that or she would put one between the woman’s overly dilated pupils here and now.
Devlin would be pissed. She wanted to solve the whole case, not just Asher’s murder.
“Please, men like Leland Walsh have no true moral compass behind the facade they present to the rest of the world. He would kill his own mother if necessary.”
“The two of you are partners in the distribution game with the Osorio cartel. Asher found out and planned to take you down.” No need to beat around the bush.
“Actually, it was Lana who figured out there was something between myself and her husband. But she was never able to catch us. She was never that bright, you know. Frankly, luring her husband into business as well as my bed was quite easy. She thought she’d married into this fine, upstanding family when, in fact, dear old Harvard is as underhanded as they come. As soon as he figured out what I was doing, he wanted a slice of the pie. Helped cultivate new distribution channels all the way to Canada. Everyone was pleased.”
“Why would you set out to steal your sister’s husband?” Sadie didn’t actually care; she was merely curious for the purposes of putting all the pieces together.
“Our mother, God rest her no-good soul, left me here with my father. I put up with his mental abuse my entire life until the COPD killed him. By then I’d considered all sorts of ways to kill him myself, but thankfully I didn’t have to. I realized, of course, what mother chose to do was not really Lana’s fault. But Lana’s decision to take her son—to whom I had grown quite attached—away from me was her fault. She shouldn’t have been so cruel. I decided it was only fair that I make her pay for that shameless decision. Oh, and I made her pay in all sorts of ways.”
Sadie gritted her teeth and let the woman carry on with her confession. Too bad she hadn’t turned on her phone’s recorder. Just went to show it was never good to be emotionally involved in a case.
Just her fucking luck to make the same mistake twice in one shitty lifetime.
“Why did you let Asher go too far?” Sadie said, her voice catching in spite of her best efforts. “Why didn’t you do something?”
“That was her fault,” Naomi said miserably. “Asher found out his mother believed his father was having an affair, and he started digging around. Sadly he found far more than the affair. He even had me fooled at first.” She sighed. “I had no idea the only reason he took the appointment here was to get close to me again. To find the truth.”
“You understand,” Sadie said, barely holding on to her emotions, “his murder is as much your fault as the shooter’s.”
Naomi nodded, her expression distant. “I do, and for that I cannot forgive myself.” She made a dry sound that was likely intended to be a laugh. “Or her.” Her lips tightened. “My idiot sister even called me in the middle of the night last night demanding to know if her husband was here.” She snorted. “Like I would have told her if he had been. Twisting the knife a little harder was all I had left.”
Sadie’s spine stiffened as her instincts kicked in more fully. “Have you spoken to or seen him?”
“Not since the day before yesterday,” Naomi said. “As I said, I presumed Lee had killed Asher, and I needed him to tell me I was wrong. Not that it mattered who pulled the trigger. Asher’s death was like my own. Worse, actually. My one goal from that point was to survive long enough to see that his killer was found.”
All those years she had spent as a cop nudged at Sadie to call for backup, but she didn’t dare slow the momentum of the conversation.
Despite her concern for what Naomi might have in mind, Sadie had to ask, “Did he tell you what happened?”
“He said he knew who had killed Asher, and he was going to have his revenge the old-fashioned way. The way they did things in the Bible.” She laughed, another of those dry, brittle sounds. “I wasn’t sure I believed him, but he refused to meet with me. Just as well, I suppose. I would probably have killed him with my bare hands, and that would have been a mistake. You see, when Lana called last night, quite hysterical, she said all sorts of unpleasant things. Including the fact that on Sunday night she and Lee had a terrible fight. She actually slapped him. Obviously, Lee couldn’t have killed Asher if he was in Boston arguing with his stupid wife.”
“Maybe your friend Emma Warren killed him,” Sadie suggested. Naomi had said she had a friend in the mayor’s office. Who knew it was the mayor herself and that they were more than friends?
But Sadie got it now. They were business partners. The puzzle pieces were all falling into place.
Naomi made a face. “Emma gives the orders. She never executes them. She has always been the real power.” Naomi smiled. “She’s just like me. Born into a man’s world. But she, too, took the power. She found herself pregnant at fifteen, and her father, who was already disappointed she wasn’t a boy, shipped her to Galveston and then to Birmingham to be rid of her. But she showed him. She achieved her law degree at Samford just as I did. We became very good friends. We had so much in common—powerful, abusive fathers. I helped her find her place in Birmingham. Introduced her to her future billionaire husband. I helped mold her into an unstoppable force, and her father had no choice but to see she was his ticket to great things in this country. A doorway. A very important one.”
For the first time in her life, Sadie found herself at a loss for words. “What’re you saying?”
The older woman smiled. “Emma’s father is very much alive. His name is Carlos Osorio. The child she had at fifteen was Eduardo. I think you knew him.”
Shock quaked through Sadie. “That’s not possible.”
She laughed. “Trust me, dear Sadie. Carlos sent her away, and she clawed her way to the top; she became the one with the power. Carlos took orders from her. Raised her son like a wet nurse.” Naomi laughed long and hard; this time the sound was full of amusement. “He became the wife and mother. How ironic is that?”
Fury burned through Sadie. Now she had her answer. “So if what you said is true, even if Warren didn’t kill Asher, she must have given the order.”
“No, no,” Naomi contended. “Emma wouldn’t do that to me. She understood what he meant to me, that he was my life. Someone else did this without her consent. It’s the only possible explanation.”
Sadie was the one who laughed this time, a dry, weary sound. “You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.” She pushed to her feet. “If Warren is really who you say she is, I guarantee you she gave the order.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” Naomi argued, staggering to her feet.
Sadie drew her weapon. “You might want to get back to that joint. Finish while you can, because I’m calling this in.” Sadie fished out her cell with her left hand. “I regret that I can’t do the honors myself, but I’m not a cop anymore.”
Naomi collapsed back into her chair and reached for the lighter. “The sooner this is over, the better.”
Sadie made the call to 911.
Then she sat down to wait and keep an eye on the woman. Naomi Taylor wasn’t going anywhere before the police arrived.
She should have known better than to worry. Just before the sirens sounded in the distance, Naomi had a seizure and stopped breathing.
Sadie started CPR.
Probably something the crazy old woman had added to the weed.
The cops arrived and took over the situation, but there was no reviving the woman.
She was gone.
Sadie walked away. Whatever happened next didn’t matter to her. She had what she wanted.
She knew who had killed Asher.
She should have known from the beginning.
48
4:00 p.m.
Federal Holding Facility
Birmingham
Sadie waited in the interview room.
Like all interview rooms, even those operated by the feds, the walls and floor were a bland grayish-whitish beige. The table was utilitarian with enough wear and tear to be called vintage. A clock hung on the wall. Something to remind whoever was on the wrong side of the table how much time had passed. To make them sweat. To ensure the tension continued to build. Just watching the second hand tick, tick, tick around the face of that basic, no-frills clock was frustrating. The sound it made was similar to a leak in a faucet. That drip, drip, drip that echoed in the night, the sound carrying through the darkness.
The air was stale, the temp too warm. Later it would be too cold, then too warm again. But it was the chairs that were the worst. Hard, slick. Uncomfortable for five minutes, downright painful after half an hour.
She’d been waiting five or so minutes. The attorney had set up everything. All she had to do was show up with her ID.
The door opened, and a guard escorted the fallen Mason Cross into the room. His hands were cuffed at his waist. A longer section of chain connected the cuffs on his wrists to the ones on his ankles. The latter making him shuffle forward a few inches at a time rather than taking his usual confident strides.
The guard pulled out the chair opposite Sadie, and her father dropped into the seat; then the guard left, closing the door behind him.
“Thank you for coming.”
Sadie had barely kept her emotions in check since talking to Naomi. She didn’t want to lose it now. Not until she had what she came for.
“What is it you want to talk about?” she demanded. “Did you make some big deal for your freedom? I’m sure you know all kinds of good shit to bargain with.”
“No. I’m not taking any deals, though several have been offered. I’m providing all that I know with no strings attached.”
His declaration surprised her, but she refused to give him any credit for doing the right thing. For all she knew, he could be lying. He’d done it plenty of times before.
“There are things I need to tell you before you hear them other ways,” he offered.
“I have two questions for you,” Sadie said flatly. “The only things I want to hear are answers to those questions.”
“Let me have my say, and then I’ll answer any question you ask.”
If playing his little game would get this over with more quickly so she could get out of this room, why not?
“I used to be a good man. A good agent. Maybe even a decent father and husband.”
No comment.
“After your mother died, I was lonely. In time I met a woman. She was an attorney for one of my informants. She made me smile when I had nothing to smile about; my wife had died. I was working all the time. I had no time for my only child. Ultimately, Emma and I started an affair.”
Sadie made a dry sound. “You had an affair with Carlos Osorio’s daughter. Wow. I guess I inherited my ability to get involved with the wrong people from you. Looks like we both got screwed by the cartel.”
He nodded.
Jesus Christ. Naomi had been right. Warren was the old man’s daughter.
“As time went on,” Mason continued, “Emma and I grew closer, and I began to share things with her.” He shrugged. “Pillow talk. I had no idea she was using me to plant bugs in my office. I didn’t know until much later. All along I thought she was some vibrant, selfless attorney, and she was merely amassing markers. Building her reputation and power, and I helped her. Eventually I learned the truth, and we broke it off. But the damage was done. She had me. I watched the news, read about her in the paper as she gained power and influence. So many times I wanted to out her, but I couldn’t. Not without ruining everything. My career—all those years of hard work. I couldn’t go to prison and leave you. Your mother was gone. You had no one else.” He made a dry snort of a chuckle. “You see, that’s how it begins. You make a mistake—a misstep. The next one is easier. You begin to see how much you can benefit professionally and personally from yet another step across the line. Until you’re in too deep. You’ve gone too far.”
Sadie wanted to rant at him for using her as an excuse, but she couldn’t find the words or the wherewithal to hurl them at him. This was a side of him she had never seen. Helpless, disgraced. Defeated.
“The one good thing I managed was to keep you away from her. I never talked to her about you. When I learned you were taking part in that operation five years ago, I tried to stop you.”
Renewed fury fired inside her. “Were you afraid I’d learn your connection and out the great Mason Cross?”
“No. I was afraid they would learn who you are and kill you just to hurt me. Didn’t matter. You were bound and determined. The next thing I knew you were in, and there was no turning back. Then you went missing, and I was certain the worst had happened.” He made that sound again, the half laugh that was no laugh at all. “But she didn’t have you executed. Instead, she was all for making a deal. It seemed we both had something she wanted—you and I, I mean. From that day, I belonged to the cartel.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Whatever else I’ve done,” he said rather than answering her question, “I will never regret doing what I had to do to save your life.”
She’d heard enough. “My turn,” she snapped. “Two questions. You gave your word.” For what that was worth.
He drew in a deep breath. “Fire away.”
“Did you kill Asher Walsh?”
Sadie held her breath.
“Your involvement with Walsh placed you in the line of fire. My options were limited, so, to answer your question, yes. I was ordered to neutralize Walsh and Leonard Kurtz, or someone else would do the job, and you would be part of the package.”
Sadie had thought when she learned the truth, there would be some sense of relief, but there was none. She felt empty. Ill. Lost . . . and then mad as hell.
At her lack of a response, he continued, “Walsh and Kurtz were preparing to contact other business owners and digging around in cartel business. They veered too close. Leland Walsh tried to stop his son, but, like you, he wouldn’t listen.”
Sadie felt her lips tremble, felt the emotion burning her eyes. She would not cry in front of this son of a bitch. “My father, the cartel’s private assassin.” She shook her head. Launched to her feet. “I need to get out of here before I puke.”
“Everything I did was to protect you. Leland Walsh wanted you dead. He figured out I was the one who killed his son, and he wanted revenge. A life for a life.”
“I guess you killed him too.”
“It was the only way to protect you. All of it, every move, was to protect you.”
“Except.” Sadie pointed a finger at him, emotion pulsing so loudly inside her she felt ready to come apart at the seams. “Except when you started fucking around with the cartel princess because your wife was dead. What were you doing to protect me then?”
He lowered his gaze, unable to look at her.
Maybe that last part wasn’t fair. He hadn’t known she was an Osorio. Didn’t matter. He deserved no sympathy. No leeway from her. Head spinning, stomach churning, Sadie turned for the door. She couldn’t look at him a second longer. Couldn’t share the same air.
But she couldn’t go yet. Not until she knew the answer to her other question. She shifted her attention back to him, took a breath. “Did you do something to cause Pauley to have that heart attack?”
For the first time she noticed how very tired her father looked. Not that she cared. Damn him. She had known—she had—that he was cold and heartless. Ruthless, really. But she would never have imagined him capable of taking so many lives without hesitation.
“Leland Walsh told Emma that his wife had hired Winters. Emma ordered me to watch him. When he got too close with his investigation, I had no choice but to stop him. The heart condition made the job simple. I replaced his medicine with placebos.”
