Ghost Walking (A Maggie York Paranormal Mystery Book 1) (32 page)

The prisoner looked up as Josh entered. “Where’s Maggie?”

Josh pulled up a chair, flipped the recorder switch, and introduced himself and the suspect. “You’ve been read your rights, Detective Coridan?”

“Twice. You can spare me a third recitation. The DA was already in to hammer out a deal. I’m willing to tell you anything I know.” He threw a questioning look toward the mirror. “Is Maggie in there? I want her to know it was never personal.”

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear that,” Josh said, without blinking. “Let’s start with your employer’s name.”

Coridan frowned and craned his neck toward the one-way window again. “I really need her to understand. Maggie? Maggie, are you in there? The swamp, the intrusion at your apartment. I only meant to scare you. Just get you to back off. I couldn’t risk having you learn the truth, but I never wanted it to come down to you or me. I went out of my way to avoid it.” He looked back at Josh. “Can she hear me?”

Josh shrugged. “Does it matter? I doubt if she believes you. You weren’t trying to scare her, not if you know her very well. You tried to smear her. Keep her off the force. Hoping anything she might say would be discounted. And while you may not have shot her, you stood by while others tried. Why did Castile target her?”

Maggie stiffened. Hearing someone talk about killing her was eerie. She sensed Captain Jenson glance her way, but she kept her eyes straightforward. She’d rather have this part of the interrogation over, but she held her breath waiting for the answer.

Coridan sighed. “One of my few mistakes. If she hadn’t seen that damned bullet at the Otley scene, things would have been different. But she did, and I knew it would match my gun. I had to dispose of it. And I told Castile she’d eventually figure it out.”

But I might not, Maggie thought. Not if you and Castile hadn’t tried so hard to cover it up.

“So why didn’t you take the contract yourself?”

“Castile didn’t offer it to me. He thought killing a cop was too risky, that I might be exposed. I wasn’t considered expendable. He offered a very good price to Pardson instead.”

Josh’s smile was harsh. “So you weren’t protecting your partner. You simply don’t kill if you aren’t being paid.”

Despite the grim reality, Maggie nearly laughed.
Thanks, Josh, for calling him on it.

Coridan wasn’t amused. He bristled, his jaw hardened. “You just don’t understand. I did her a favor.” But he didn’t look at the mirror again.

“If you’re through trying to convince us what a nice guy you are, let’s get back to who paid the bills.”

Regaining his composure, Coridan leaned back and a twinge of humor flickered across his face. “Other than the PD, I assume. Paul Castile. I’ve worked for him on special assignments for about nine years.”

“What kind of special assignments?”

“A variety. Mostly removal of troublesome people and evidence that needed to disappear.”

“You killed people for him,” Josh said bluntly.

Coridan’s expression never changed. “That’s right. Eight, I believe. And well paid for each.”

Hearing his cold, emotionless admission, Maggie shifted her shoulders. It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d sifted through case details and had her back on more than one occasion. Yet none of that was inconsistent with being a hired assassin.

Josh looked at him from under his brows. “What about Harry Brandt? Would he have been number nine?”

“Different employer. That’s an out-of-state contract.”

“Big Mike, you mean. And you picked it up after Frankie Gordon failed?”

Coridan scowled, looking offended. “Get serious. Nobody’d give a hit to a dumb punk like Frankie. He was running his own game, trying to impress the boss and move up in the organization. It wasn’t approved by Bullet. He’d been sitting on the request a couple of months because he didn’t want Big Mike thinking he had any influence over events in New Orleans. I asked Castile for the contract today because of the big money involved.”

Maggie noticed Josh’s shoulders stiffen. “Go on. Tell me about it.”

A faint smile touched Coridan’s lips as if he enjoyed Josh’s reaction. “I guess Big Mike holds a grudge. Said your brother had weaseled on him, and he offered a half mil to the man who could provide proof of death. I figured that would make a nice addition to my retirement fund since I’d be leaving New Orleans soon.” His eyes slid toward the mirror for an instant, then returned. “I knew Maggie was close to the truth, but I miscalculated how close. I set up the meeting to keep her occupied elsewhere, giving me time to complete my last job and get out of town.”

“You should have known better. But let’s get back to the other eight targets.”

“All ordered and paid for by Castile.”

“Names and dates.”

While Coridan recited the list, Maggie sighed and looked at Jenson. He gave her a thumbs-up. The crime boss was going down this time.

Josh’s next question brought Maggie and Jenson a step closer to the mirror.

“What about Wernier?”

“Not me, but it was a Castile hit. A sniper named Bo Smitty.”

“How’d Smitty know Wernier would be there that morning?”

“He’d been tailing him for twenty-four hours, watching for the right spot. Smitty should have taken out the informant too, but pros don’t work for free. We hadn’t authorized it because we didn’t know who or what she was until Smitty witnessed the meeting and transfer of data between their phones. A costly oversight that nearly blew my cover.”

“You must have taken Wernier’s phone,” Josh said, pushing for the details everyone in the precinct wanted to hear.

“Just seconds before help arrived. If Smitty hadn’t called me from the scene to verify the kill, I’d never have arrived in time. Imagine how shocked I was when I saw my photo. Stupid bitch. She got out of town before we found her, and things were deteriorating too fast to chase her down.”

The instant Coridan named the sniper, Captain Jenson called dispatch, put out a BOLO, and requested a warrant. If Smitty was still in New Orleans, they’d get him.

After two hours, Josh took a break and joined Maggie and Jenson in the observation room. The names and dates were all on record—Wernier’s killer, every hit committed by Coridan, every incident of evidence tampering, and three unsuspected cases of witness intimidation. Whenever Castile had faced a potential law enforcement problem, Coridan had been the designated troubleshooter—figuratively and literally.

Maggie had watched the entire interrogation, but Jenson had stepped out twice to check on a search-in-progress of Coridan’s residence, vehicles, and financials. The suspect’s life would be turned inside out looking for corroboration. In his apartment they discovered packed bags and a one-way ticket to Argentina, proving how close he’d been to getting away.

But Coridan was small stuff compared with the federal warrants being prepared both in New Orleans and Boston.

“Do we have the warrant for Castile yet?” Josh asked.

“Any minute,” Jenson said. “The DA was conferring with the feds, but we’ll get the honors.” He was interrupted by the door opening, and a clerk handed him several papers. He glanced at them and grinned. “I think this is what you’ve been waiting for. Coridan can sit until you get back.” He handed the papers to Josh but looked at Maggie. “No reason an involved civilian can’t accompany an officer serving an arrest warrant.”

* * *

Maggie gripped the door handle, waiting for Josh to park. As soon as the engine died, she hopped out. Nice neighborhood. They’d parked a block from the Garden District house serving as Castile’s current headquarters. The surveillance team had already been alerted, and they emerged from concealment to act as backup. They grinned at Maggie and Josh before sobering for the task ahead. No one really expected a gunfight. Castile considered himself a businessman, and he thought his money, influence, and lawyers placed him above the law. And since the warrant had been obtained in a blanket of secrecy, he had no idea what was about to happen.

With Josh and Maggie leading the way, they approached the front door. It opened before they knocked. “Detective Brandt, NOPD,” Josh announced. “I need to speak with Paul Castile.”

“What’s your business?” A brawny man barred the entrance.

“It’s with Mr. Castile. Get out of my way.”

“Let them in, Louie. We wouldn’t want to interfere with law enforcement. Why Maggie York, back so soon?” Confident as ever, Castile flicked an imaginary speck from the lapel of his dark blue Italian suit and gestured them toward two easy chairs. “I’m sorry I don’t have sufficient seating for everyone. Perhaps the others could wait outside.”

“I don’t think so. Our business is brief.” Josh took the warrant from his pocket and looked at Maggie. “Want to do the honors?”

Momentary doubt flickered across Castile’s placid face.

“My pleasure.” Adrenaline soared as she stepped forward. “Paul Castile, you’re under arrest for murder, criminal conspiracy, tampering with evidence, tampering with witnesses, and a host of other charges that will keep you behind bars the rest of your life. And I’m sure there are more to come.”

“Now just wait a minute.” Castile frowned and sighed. “My lawyers—”

Josh handed him the warrant, reading the exact list of charges. “You have the right to remain silent.” Two officers moved forward to cuff Castile’s hands behind his back. “Anything you say can—”

“I know my rights.” Castile’s nostrils flared, but he still seemed more annoyed than concerned, as if facing a minor inconvenience. “This is a joke, Detectives. I’m filing a formal complaint for harassment. My lawyers will have me out in an hour.”

“Not this time.” Maggie nodded for an officer to finish the interrupted Miranda warning. While he droned the familiar words, she delivered the final bad news. “You won’t be sleeping at home tonight, Castile. Your boy Coridan gave you up to save his own skin.”

The crime boss stiffened. A flash of fear finally drained the blood from his face, and Maggie didn’t try to hide her smile of satisfaction.

* * *

The following forty-eight hours was a madhouse of activity as Castile’s crime network unraveled. Bo Smitty, a local thug with military sniper training, attempted to leave town after Castile’s arrest but was spotted on US-10 and died in a shootout with a dozen cops. Officers swarmed over Castile’s properties and accounts with multiple search warrants, while others hauled in every known associate they could find. More arrests would follow. The evidence mounted by the hour. Castile’s cold arrogance hadn’t engendered much loyalty, and many of his inner circle followed Coridan’s example and talked their heads off for any possible deal they could make.

Bullet Castile followed his lawyers’ advice and remained silent. At his arraignment, local, state, and federal attorneys vied for primary jurisdiction, and he was held without bail. Since the feds and Louisiana both had the death penalty, Maggie didn’t care who won the right to try him.

Throughout the next week, the investigation spread to Big Mike in Boston, including indictments for prior murder contracts that had been successfully executed. Coridan had proven a wealth of information. Harry Brandt became a small wheel in the cog of Big Mike’s problems, and the contract against him wasn’t renewed.

Without giving Josh a chance to protest, Harry had Annie arrange an interview with local media, and he told his story, exonerating Josh and describing him as a hero. Although Josh tried to duck the limelight, he tolerated the good-natured teasing from the District 13 squad the morning the article appeared as a welcome sign of growing camaraderie.

Carolyn Brandt returned to hospice care at the private facility and died a week later with both sons at her side. During those last days, Maggie saw the relief in Carolyn’s eyes that her boys were free from the legal clouds surrounding them for the last year. Probably no one dies happy, but she died content.

The day before Thanksgiving at the precinct’s holiday potluck, Captain Jenson reinstated Maggie to active status. She’d passed her psych evaluation without a problem. There were a few things she simply didn’t mention.

Hurst’s ghost hadn’t appeared since the final meeting on the rooftop. According to Dalia, he’d “crossed over” to wherever ghosts go, and so far no one had shown up to take his place. Maggie expected it would happen someday. Inherited traits don’t just go away. She’d accepted that much. She wanted to be prepared for the next appearance, especially if it might be someone less cooperative than Bobby Hurst, so she kept up her contacts with Dalia and Selena. She tried not to worry about the taints of the veil already on her soul, especially that last jolt in Harry’s apartment, but she was eager to learn ways to avoid future exposure. Josh went with her to these unusual sessions as often as he could, which seemed to mean he was around to stay.

Maggie moved home to her own apartment. Neither she nor Josh was ready for a bigger commitment, but that didn’t stop them from spending most of their free time together. There wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on their future. At least not in the first couple of weeks.

The day after Thanksgiving, Captain Jenson called them into his office. He leaned forward, his hands steepled over the desktop.

“Well, how’s it feel to have the badge back on your belt, Maggie?”

“Excellent, sir. And normal. I’m ready to get back to work.”

Jenson gave a gruff laugh. “I don’t think you ever quit working, and you more than earned your badge back. But we do have another issue, which is why I asked Detective Brandt to join us. You no longer have a partner, and Brandt is losing his to retirement in about two months. In fact, I’ve reassigned Eddie Bishop to desk duty effective this morning.”

Maggie forced herself to remain still. Was he really going to do this? In spite of his suspicions about their relationship?

The captain studied both of them. “What would you think of working together?” He raised a hand in caution before they responded. “If anything is likely to interfere with your judgment, I want you to tell me. You’ve handled yourselves well during the recent investigation despite possible irregularities in your relationship. Which I still don’t want to know about, by the way, unless it creates a problem.”