In the Arms of the Wind (4 page)

Without speaking, the bodyguard opened the door and stepped back, giving Danny a hard glare in the process. As soon as Danny was inside the opulent apartment, the door closed softly behind him.

The man before whom the detective had been ordered to appear was sitting in an overstuffed leather chair and did not look up as Danny came to stand in front of him. Barefoot, white silk shirt unbuttoned almost to his waist, he sat peeling an apple, the red skin spiraling down from the glint of a very sharp blade.

“I called you five times before you answered,” he said without looking up. His attention was on the apple. “Do that again and I’ll send someone over to shove that fucking phone up your ass.” He glanced up and his dark eyes were like spotlights shining on Danny. “Do you hear what I am saying?”

“Yeah.” The one word bore not a trace of respect or subservience.

He lowered his gaze again. “Then sit down and give me a damned good reason why I shouldn’t send you back over to Anderson Lane to finish what you started.”

That his boss knew he’d been on Anderson Lane didn’t surprise Danny as he took a seat on the sofa and threw his arms over the rolled back, crossing his right ankle over his left knee.

“She did not see us.”

“She heard you.”

“She did not recognize our voices.”

The apple peel continued to curl downward in an unbroken coil. “So Barnes said.”

“I’ll take care of it if there’s ever a problem.”

A slow nod and the peel fell into the man’s lap. He cut off a small chunk and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, methodically before he spoke again.

“I know you will, Daniel.”

“Then why am I here?”

A slight frown marred the features of his host but he did not look up. “You know, Daniel, if you were one of my other men, I would have had you put down long ago. Like a rabid dog.”

“Too good to dirty your own hands to take me out?”

That brought the man’s head up. He locked eyes with Danny. “No, but I don’t think our mother would appreciate me cutting the throat of my little brother.” His upper lip curled. “What do you think?”

“Probably not, but then again it depends on the kind of day she’s having.”

John Gallagher snorted and laid the apple and knife into a crystal bowl sitting on the end table beside him. He picked up a napkin and began wiping his hands. “Barnes gave me his report, now give me yours.”

Danny sighed audibly. “For the love of God, Johnny. What the hell for?”

“Humor me,” John snapped.

Jaw flexing with annoyance, Danny described the preparations he and his partner had undergone once they had driven up to Stone Ridge.

“We wore hairnets beneath silk hose, the legs of which were wound around our necks and secured with duct tape. Beneath black jumpsuits we were wearing nylon body stockings that covered us toe to neck. Socks went on and were secured with duct tape at the ankles. Latex gloves went under black leather gloves and were also secured at the wrist with the tape. Once we were dressed, we stood in front of that fucking wind machine blasting us with enough force to nearly topple us. Not one fucking body hair could have been stuck to us. Not one piece of fiber. Not one skin cell could have escaped from under all those layers. We got in the sedan that had been sterilized for our use and drove to Cobb’s Corners. Jamison waved us through and at no time did we see the other security guard. We entered the house through the kitchen door, took out the cook, maid and butler using silencers. Three shots and three casings pocketed. Leaving the kitchen, we encountered the two bodyguards. Barnes clipped the first before he could draw his weapon, but the second returned fire. I took him down with a single shot to the base of the brain when I came up behind him. He never knew what hit him. Two shots and two more shell casings retrieved. We found Gerring in the parlor and we each shot him once in the back. When we went over to him to look for the thumb drive, he was still moving and I pulled off another two quick shots to his head. After the hits, we pocketed our shell casings, took the thumb drive, and after leaving Cobb’s Corners, we drove two counties over and met with the Janitors. We stripped, handed over the clothing and the casings, everything was disposed of as usual in a vat of industrial-strength sulfuric acid. They took the sedan with them to be dismantled and we drove back in separate vehicles.” He ground his teeth. “Satisfied?”

“So the only loose end is the Connor woman.”

“I. Will. Handle. It!” Danny growled, eyes flashing. He sprang up from the sofa and strode angrily toward the door.

“Danny?”

He turned and gave his older brother a nasty look. “What?”

“If you don’t handle it, it will be handled for you.”

On the way down in the elevator Danny Gallagher needed a wall he could put his fist through. Each time he was forced to report to his brother, he lost a little bit more of his soul, a tiny piece of his sanity was peeled away. The jobs he was forced to do for his family ate at him, tore at his peace of mind, kept him awake at night. He saw the faces of his victims passing like ghosts across his conscience—accusing, condemning.

For years he’d been looking for a way out but there didn’t seem to be one. He was caught, mired in a trap his bloodline had set for him. To show respect for the only man he had ever looked up to, he had gone into the family business against his better judgment. He’d taken over for that man when age and illness had put an end to the man’s worthiness to carry out the repercussions necessary to keep the family on top of its game. But Danny had never wanted the mantle that had been laid on his shoulders. Even he had no idea why he’d allowed himself to be forced into something he found so repellent, so evil.

“Your brother must distance himself from the more sordid side of the business, Daniel. It is up to you to pick up the slack, to take over for your father,” his mother had decided for him. “You are a man of honor so you must honor your family above all.”

But there was no honor, Danny thought, in what he did.

The elevator hitched to a stop and the doors opened. Two of Johnny’s bodyguards nodded respectfully to Danny then stepped aside.

“Gonna rain,” one of them said in passing.

“Like a horse pissing,” Danny mumbled.

He went out into the night—feeling the storm coming—and knew it wasn’t just a meteorological storm that was brewing. His dissatisfaction with what he was doing, his dislike of his partner, his guilt every time he looked into his captain’s eyes had been building so long he knew it would soon erupt. Something had to happen. Something had to give.

Sliding into the car shed blood had purchased, he put his arms on the steering wheel and lowered his forehead to his crossed hands. He closed his eyes, wishing he could go back, could change things, could simply do the job he’d wanted to do since he was a boy and find honor and peace in that job.

“A cop?”
his father had exploded.
“What the fuck for?”

“I can see use in it,”
his grandfather had stated.
“This isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

His conscience had starting bothering him when he was in high school. A friend—the son of a business rival—had been killed by a gang of blacks for ten dollars and a scooter that was on its last legs. The police hadn’t been able to find Jason’s killers but when Danny had gone to his grandfather, the culprits were found in less than an hour.

And dispatched to wherever such felons who crossed the path of the Gallaghers went.

Danny had regretted having asked for help in avenging his friend. He’d spent several hours on his knees praying for forgiveness for being the reason those young black men no longer walked the earth.

Things really got bad in college when the girlfriend of a fraternity brother was viciously raped, her body not found for several days. It had been a Gallagher informant who had found the young man responsible for the murder.

“I know how this has weighed on your mind, Danny,”
his brother said.
“I put my best men on it.”
He’d laid his hand on Danny’s shoulder.
“What do you want to do about it?”

“Turn him over to the police,”
Danny had replied.

Johnny’s hand had tightened on Danny’s shoulder.
“He left her staked out over a fire ant bed, little brother. Naked, bleeding. My men saw ants crawling in and out of her.”
He stressed the words again.
“In and out of her, Danny. What kind of justice do you think the police will give that poor girl?”

Having spent two days in the hospital after falling into a massive fire ant bed when he was seven, Danny knew just how painful the bite of such a tiny creature could be.

“In and out of her,”
Johnny said again.

Staring into his brother’s eyes, Danny had said the words he would regret all his life—
“Make him suffer like he made Lynn suffer.”

Lifting his head, he stared out across the parking lot.

He had thought he could make a difference if he joined the police. He had the best of both worlds—a degree in criminal justice and an insight into the world of crime. He knew the rules of both participants in the battle of good versus evil.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize the police force was just as corrupt as it was often portrayed on television. Every cop he knew was either on the take or had been at some point in his career. A few of them took matters into their own hands in tampering with evidence, planting it or disposing of it, framing criminals they could get no other way, killing if they thought they could get away with it, covering for one another when it was needed.

“From the frying pan into the fire,” was one of his mother’s favorite sayings. Sometimes he thought that was exactly what he’d done when he’d made his first kill for the family.

“They’re gonna let the bastard walk!”
his grandfather had shouted.
“He won’t see one day in lockup! His mouthpiece is saying it was temporary insanity!”

A little boy—the son of a Gallagher associate—had been taken on his way home from school by a pedophile who just happened to be high up in the city government. An official who had run afoul of the Gallaghers on several major political issues. Coming from old money, a richly respected family, he would spend a few months in a mental facility for the rich and famous then be released to maybe do it again.

“Something’s gotta be done,”
Danny’s father said
. “If I could, I’d go after the prick.”

“I’ll do it,”
Danny had said. He’d known the child, had babysat for him on occasion.

It had been Danny’s first kill and the body had never been found. He’d stepped up to fill in that one time, but that one time had opened a flood gate he found he could not close and the waters were beginning to close over his head.

Drawing in a long breath, he let it out slowly then lowered his arms. He reached for the key.

Life was just one long struggle, he thought as he started the motor.

And honor was just a five-letter word.

Chapter Two

The doorbell rang at a little past eight the next morning and Kaycee sighed. She had a good idea who would be out and about that early, and chances were good he’d have Rufus with him. Releasing an irritated breath, she got out of bed, unlocked her barricaded door and—turning off lights as she went—made her way to the living room. The bell chimed again, making her grit her teeth.

“I’m coming, Mr. Phillips!” she said.

Something made her stop before she unlocked the door and look through the peephole. The person she saw standing beyond her screen door surprised her. She watched him smile.

“Miss Connor? It’s Detective Gallagher.”

She glanced down at the wrinkled lounging pajamas and T-shirt and felt slovenly. Putting a hand to her hair, she groaned. What a sight she must present, she thought as she began unlocking her door. When she had the jammer bar and barrel bolts pulled back, the deadbolt and door lock twisted, she eased the portal open and peered around it.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling.

“Morning,” she mumbled, and put one bare foot atop the other.

“I came by to check on you.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything to say and felt tongue-tied.

“May I come in or is it too early?” He groaned lightly. “Did I get you out of bed? I’m sorry.”

Kaycee blinked. “No!” she replied. “I mean, yes, I was in bed, but I wasn’t sleeping.” She opened the door and unhooked the latch on the screen. “I didn’t sleep last night.”

His smile returned. “I wish I’d known that. We could have kept each other company.”

She pushed the screen door open. “You didn’t sleep either?” She stepped back to allow him to enter.

“Too much paperwork and far too much caffeine,” he said. “Steak and eggs at four in the morning doesn’t make it easy for you to sleep. It kinda sits in your belly like a rock.”

Kaycee felt very small as he walked past her and into the living room. He was a good foot taller than her. He was dressed in a polo shirt that stretched across his broad chest like a second skin and the faded blue jeans hugged him tightly. His sneakers had seen better days, but she would stake money on them being his favorite pair.