Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (33 page)

“I hate this,” Jamie said.

“I know. I’ll be safe. Chances are they won’t let me anywhere near him. Hopefully, this means we’ve got him and our lives can go back to normal. Or what passes for normal with us,” she added as a joke. Jamie wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly.

“Be safe,” Jamie whispered before finally releasing her hold.

“I promise.”

“Say it again.”

“I promise I will be coming home to you.”

*   *  *

The teams arrived at the Holiday Inn on Beacon Street without any fanfare. Val pulled around back and joined the others. Once again, CC found herself in the odd position of having to stand in the background. Ledger went to great lengths to remind her that her presence was a favor, and she was not a part of the operation. CC felt a small sense of comfort that a team had been left behind at her home. If for some reason they got it wrong, Jamie and Stevie would still be safe. She was ready. Her heart raced as she followed the team up to the fourth floor. Thankfully, Beaumont’s room was at the end of a hallway next to a fire exit. One team discreetly, or as discreetly as they could manage, went in the front. CC followed the second team up the stairwell. The third and fourth teams positioned themselves around the back and front of the building.

CC said a silent prayer that Bert was indeed in his room. If he was out and about, there was no way he could miss the extreme police presence. She fought to control her breathing while she followed after the team all clad in black and armed to the teeth. She added another prayer that this was really it and she’d be able to keep her promise to Jamie. She was left behind at the entrance of the fourth-floor staircase.

“Room Service!” Val pounded on the door. The marshals had fanned out so they wouldn’t be seen through the peephole.

“I didn’t order anything,” a graveled voice shouted from within.

CC trembled, and her knees began to buckle. After all the years, she still recognized his voice. She steadied her 9mm in front of her, and a fear born from her childhood threatened to choke her. She listened to the banter as Val tried to convince the occupant to step outside so he could sign a waiver saying it was the wrong room.

“Hey, I get it.” Val sounded at a loss. “I just don’t want to lose my job. Come on, I have a kid to support,” she added, almost pleading.

“All right,” the voice barked from inside and the door opened ever so slightly.

It was the only opening they needed. In a rush, federal agents filled the room. “Albert Beaumont. US Marshals!” Val announced as a scuffle ensued.

CC couldn’t see what was happening, but she knew the sounds all too well. Val ordered him down on his knees and to interlace his fingers behind his head. All the while, Bert was shouting that they had the wrong guy.

“Check my ID on the table.” He sounded pathetic. “My name is Mike Buanoma.”

“ID checks,” one member whose voice CC failed to recognize confirmed.

“Fingerprints will tell us all we need to know,” Val said. “Now stay still, or I will hurt you. We do have a quicker way to confirm your identity. Send her in.”

CC nodded when Ledger waved to her. She kept her gun properly positioned in front of her but pointed down. Her lungs seized when she saw him. He was sitting on the double bed with his hands cuffed behind his back and his ankles chained together.

“Hello, Bert.” She felt the old anger rising to the surface. “What’s new?”

He turned pale and suddenly the room was filled with a sour odor. “Eww,” Marino said. “Maid is going to hate you.”

CC just shook her head as she approached him. All this time, she had feared the very thought of him. Instead of the monster she remembered, here sat a pudgy old man in shackles, who soiled himself after hearing her voice.

“Go ahead,” he choked out with a nod towards her gun. “You know I deserve it. Do it.” The last part was offered as a desperate plea.

She looked around the room, and not for the first time in her life, she knew she might be able do what he was asking and be allowed to walk away. Instead, she cast an evil smirk down at him and holstered her gun. He flinched when she leaned in close to him.

“Just so we’re clear,” she said in a gritty voice that made him squirm. Encouraged by the look of fear in his eyes, she leaned even closer to whisper the words she had wanted to say for decades. “You’re not worth it.” She enjoyed watching him tremble. CC stood up straight, her cold stare never lifting from his cowering form. “Deputy, this man is Albert Beaumont.”

“Good enough for me. Albert Beaumont,” Val said, “you are under arrest for violating your probation and being a jackass. You have the right to an attorney who could fight your extradition back to Connecticut.” She prattled on with the required Miranda warning and lifted him to his feet. “Before you call for a lawyer, ask yourself how much time you want to spend in a Boston jail cell.”

CC didn’t miss the way she looked directly at her or the gloating tone in her voice. “You could just tell us who sent you here,” CC told him.

“I don’t belong in prison,” Bert said. “I’m sick.”

“A minute ago you were begging me to blow your brains out because you deserve it.” CC almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “Now you want therapy?”

“Take him down to the van,” Val told her crew. “We need to do a sweep. I’m sorry, Detective, but you can’t be here for this part.”

“Understood.”

CC didn’t want to do anything that might help Bert in any way, shape, or form. She headed to the privacy of the stairwell and called home. Her message was short, “We got him.” After she made the call, she felt a huge weight had been lifted. She understood there was more and she wouldn’t like it. For the moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the brief taste of freedom. It felt good, and she was determined to enjoy the feeling for as long as she could.

*   *  *

Val and her team had done an extensive search of the room. They found only an odd assortment of clothing, a bundle of cash, the fake ID, and a cell phone. While being processed, Bert couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not he wanted legal representation. He seemed relieved when he was placed in an interrogation room instead of a jail cell.

CC watched the interrogation from the other side of the mirror. After several hours, Bert offered very little. He claimed not to know anything. He said he wasn’t allowed to contact his unknown benefactor and simply followed instructions.

“Think you can get him to be a little more candid?” Val asked after leaving Bert alone in the room.

“He doesn’t know anything.” A slight tremble of anger surged through CC. “I’ll try, but I got to go with him being too stupid to pull this off.”

“He said the last text gave him directions to Crescent Street,” Val said. “He was just about to head over there when we showed up. He was on his way to your home.”

“I wonder if he knew it was my house he was being sent to. His boss isn’t going to be happy that he screwed up.” CC mulled everything over and still came up with the one name. “Good thing you’ve managed to keep this quiet. The lack of press will work for us. Wish me luck?”

“Like you need it.”

“Hey, Bert,” she said in an overly cheerful tone. “How’s your day going?”

“You were always a little bitchy.”

“Can’t be helped.” She was no longer filled with fear and loathing. The moment he wet himself in the hotel room, he turned into every other skell she had dealt with since graduating from the academy. “Why were you planning on visiting me?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Three Crescent Street?”

“Great.” He buried his face in his hands. “Look, I was simply following orders.”

“That excuse didn’t work for the Nazis.” She couldn’t resist the jab. “Face it, Bert, you’ve stepped in it big time. Things will be much easier on you if you just tell us how you got mixed up in this mess.”

“I told that other bitch I don’t know anything.”

“You want to stop talking? Your mouthpiece is on his way. Say the word, and we’ll send you down to a nice cozy cell.”

“Yeah, right. You’d like that, me locked up with a bunch of mean sons of bitches while my useless fat-ass lawyer takes his sweet time driving up here. I’ll tell you again. I was at work and someone dropped off a package with my boss. The boss said it was from Stevie.”

“Did he mention Stevie by name?”

“No, he just said it was from my kid. Inside the box was a little cash, a cell phone, and a note to turn it on. The cash was enough for a train ticket. On the phone there was a text waiting for me. It said if I followed instructions, I’d be given a new identity and enough money to start over again. All I had to do was follow instructions, and I’d have a new life. It also said I should never try to contact the caller. If I did I’d be sorry, that part was explained in great detail.”

“Did you save the original note?”

“No, and I trashed the cell phones every time I was sent a new one. Just like I was told to do.”

“Yeah, we found your last one. Dumping it in the hotel trash wasn’t the brightest move. So your last instruction was to swing by my house and hang out for no longer than ten minutes?”

“Yes, then I was to park my ass in the hotel room for at least a week.”

“Okay, that’s it I guess. You sure you don’t want us to try to hurry up that lawyer of yours?”

“Why? So I can stay here in Boston with all of your friends looking out for me? No thanks. How is Stevie?”

“You don’t get to know.”

“She’s my kid! You turned her against me.”

“You sure that was it? Not you trying to put your hands in her pants when she was a kid?” CC felt it all coming back to her. “The same crap you pulled on me and God knows how many other young girls.” She punctuated her point by knocking over her chair when she stood. “Enjoy your stay in Boston. The one thing that makes me happy is that, by running, you’ve guaranteed that you won’t be seeing daylight for a very long time.”

“See, there’s that bitchy tone again.” He wagged his finger at her. He quickly withdrew it when she leaned down and flattened her hands on the table.

“You want to see bitchy?”

“No,” he said and gulped.

“I didn’t think so.”

After she left Bert quaking in his boots in the interrogation room, she took a moment to thank everyone who worked on the case. On the way home she called Max.

“We got the son of a bitch.”

“Are you okay, kid?”

“I feel good. Seeing him in chains was the best thing I’ve seen in years. I’ll fill you in on everything later. For now I need to get home.”

She was a little curious if Val was going to swing by and offer her goodbyes. Not to her, but to Stevie. Or had she picked up on Stevie’s indifference to the situation? Stevie’s attitude wasn’t new. Still there was something, in her eyes whenever Val was in the room. The look didn’t jive with Stevie’s blasé demeanor.

Stevie was waiting for her as she entered the house. “It’s over?” Stevie nervously asked, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

“It’s over. Emma will be home in the morning.”

*   *  *

Jamie yawned before trying to steal the blankets back from her slumbering wife. CC was a notorious blanket thief. Jamie secretly loved the way she had to wrestle the blankets away from the sleeping woman who would later deny taking them. Just as she had managed to snuggle back under the covers, her cell phone rang.

“Really?”

After a blissful night, the frantic morning phone call was a rude interruption. For the first time since she had been employed at Boylston General, Jack had failed to show up for a shift. He not only failed to arrive, he didn’t call, which was odd since he had a habit of calling even when he was running a few minutes late. Jamie found it strange, and the staff was freaked out. Jamie begged Stella to do what she did best, handle things until she got there.

“I’m sorry,” she said to CC who awoke when the phone rang. “I can’t believe Jack is a no-show. They’ve tried calling him. He was only covering part of my shift. He had Nolan covering the later part. I guess the overnight was too much for him.”

“Nolan? Your biggest fan.”

“I know the guy’s a jerk. I’m used to it. I hope Jack is all right.”

“Why don’t I swing by his condo? He’s living at Waterfront at Revere Beach right?”

“Could you? I’m worried. This is completely out of character for him.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll go right after Emma gets back.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss the little peanut coming home.”

“Now that this mess is over, we can get back to our lives.”

“It’s not really over, is it?” Jamie felt her stomach clench when CC failed to answer her.

*   *  *

When Jamie arrived at the hospital, it was a flurry of activity. The long weekend meant families had time together. For certain families, time together wasn’t a good thing. For those clans, gatherings normally ended with a trip to the emergency room. Normally, even with the sudden influx of people, the staff handled it with ease. With no one in charge, however, mayhem could easily take over.

“Thank God for you, Stella.” Jamie watched the nurse easily handle the staff. “Bring me up to speed?”

“Head trauma in bay four, rash in bay six.” Stella rattled off every bump and bruise as she handed Jamie a stack of files.

“There’s a fresh pot of coffee in your office. Grab yourself a big cup after you check on Mr. Kasbe. He’s in bay five.”

“Right, the guy who can’t get it up. Thank you, Stella. I’d be lost without you.”

Jamie handed out assignments then heeded Stella’s advice and grabbed a cup of coffee.

Chapter 32

CC and Stevie were on their second pot of coffee. The morning had been exhausting. The slightest noise had them lurching towards the front door, in hopes they would find Emma waiting on the other side. After what seemed to be an eternity, a nondescript black sedan pulled up in front of the house. CC braced herself when Stevie almost knocked her over trying to reach the front door. CC stood back proudly, watching Stevie swing little Emma around while Brad and Ricky dutifully unpacked the car.