Kill and Run (A Thorny Rose Mystery Book 1) (29 page)

Joshua found Murphy talking to Tawkeel Said in the corridor outside Colonel Clark’s interrogation room.

After a polite nod of his head to Tawkeel, Joshua asked Murphy, “Who’s watching Tommy Clark?”

“One of our agents called Maureen Clark’s brother using the NCIS cover,” Murphy said. “They told them that Clark was being brought in for questioning. The agent stayed at the Clark home until he got there to take both Tommy and the Clark’s cat home with him.”

Joshua nodded his approval before turning to Tawkeel. “Did Clark say anything when you and Major Monroe picked him up?”

Tawkeel stood up straight, almost to attention. “He says Graham is tying up loose ends and sent a hit man to kill him tonight. He’d be dead if the police had not chased the assassin away.”

Joshua fought the grin working its way to his lips. “Sounds like he’s ready.” He reached for the door knob to enter the interrogation room.

“Billy?” Tawkeel asked.

Joshua stopped. Slowly, he turned his head to look at the young man from the Middle East.

“They called you Billy,” Tawkeel said.

Stunned, Joshua looked him up and down.

“Dad …” Murphy asked. “What’s wrong?”

“When did you come over from Iraq?” Joshua whispered.

“Nineteen-ninety-five,” Tawkeel said. “Me, my father—”

“Your mother’s family poisoned her,” Joshua said. “We found you and your family hiding in the desert. You’d been hiding in a cave for days. We got you out one step ahead of a death squad.”

Tears in Tawkeel’s eyes, he nodded while digging into his pants pocket. He extracted a gold pocket watch on a chain with an eagle on the lid. “I still have it. I carry it always to remind me that I am truly an American—just like you and the soldiers who saved me and my family.”

Seeing the watch, Murphy felt his heart jump up into his throat. Joshua laid his fingers on the watch. As if struck with a thought, he jerked to look at Murphy from over his shoulder. With a proud grin, Murphy nodded his head at him.

“And now you’re a Phantom, Tawkeel,” Joshua said.

“Ask not what your country can do for you,” Tawkeel quoted the late President John F. Kennedy, “but what you can do for your country.”

Joshua patted the young man on the cheek. “It was an honor bringing you and your family to America.”

Down the hallway, Major Monroe turned the corner at a run. “Captain, we have a problem!”

Seeing that the major’s hands were bloody, Murphy ran down the corridor and followed him into the interrogation room where General Sebastian Graham was waiting for his lawyer.

The army general was stretched out on the floor in a growing pool of blood. An ink pen stuck out of his neck. His teeth chattered while he convulsed from blood-loss.

“Sebastian!” Joshua rushed to him and tried to plug with his hand the blood flowing from around the pen that the general had plunged deep into his throat—striking the jugular vein. “Who gave him the pen?” he yelled over his shoulder at the major who had been keeping an eye on him.

“He asked for a pen and paper because he wanted to write out a confession,” the major said. “I was watching from the observation room. He was writing. Then out of the blue, he took that pen and stabbed himself in the throat. He did it so fast.”

“Sebastian, why?” Joshua asked him.

“We’re the good guys.” He choked on blood spilling out of his mouth. “We send out young people … over there … to destroy the monsters. Here … I was one and … never knew it.”

Murphy picked up the yellow notepad on which General Graham had written out his confession.

Dear God,

Please forgive me for what I have become and grant me the courage to be a hero just one last time.

General Sebastian Graham, USA

Chapter Thirty

It was three in the morning by the time Joshua and Murphy had finished taking down Colonel Lincoln Clark’s statement. Clark confirmed contacting General Sebastian Graham’s personal assistant after discovering that his wife was meeting with other victims of Graham’s sexual assaults at Francine Baxter’s home.

“But I never thought for a minute that they would kill all of them,” the colonel claimed.

“What did you think they were going to do?” Joshua asked.

“Threaten them,” Colonel Clark said. “Intimidate them all into silence.” He threw up his hands. “Bribe them.”

“Like he paid you off?” Joshua said. “What kind of man allows another man to do to his wife what Sebastian Graham did to yours and does nothing?”

“Like if we had reported it he would have spent one day in jail,” Colonel Clark said. “It would have been a losing battle anyway. With all the friends and connections General Graham has, he would have gotten off and my career would have been over. I would have been drummed out of the army after spending two or three more tours in some hell hole. The best choice was to play ball with him.”

“Which got your wife killed,” Joshua said. “Did you tell General Graham that Maureen was leaving you because of this arrangement you two made without her consent?”

“No,” Colonel Clark said. “Graham’s not stupid. We communicated through Dolly, his assistant.”

“He told you that if there were any problem to call Dolly?” Joshua said.

“Yeah,” the colonel replied before changing his mind. “No, as a matter of fact, it wasn’t the general but his wife who told me to call Dolly or her if there were any problems with Maureen. It was after Maureen blew-up at a party at the general’s house. He grabbed her breast and she slapped him. Paige ordered Maureen to apologize, which she finally did but, afterwards, she threatened to report the rape to the police. I warned Sebastian. A few days later, a man threatened Maureen after she’d gone running. Said something bad was going to happen to her pretty legs. That settled her down real fast. The next day, Paige called me and said that if there were ever any other problems with Maureen to call Dolly.”

The colonel looked across the table at Joshua, who sat back in his seat, crossed his arms, and stared back at him.

“You know,” the colonel broke his silence, “there’s no way you can come out ahead in bringing this case against Graham.”

“Actually, we already have,” Joshua said. “He offed himself a couple of hours ago.”

Colonel Lincoln Clark’s jaw dropped open. “He’s dead?”

Joshua nodded his head.

“Why am I still here?”

“Because you arranged the murder of your wife and four other women.” Joshua stood up out of his chair. “Make yourself comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

Murphy was waiting for Joshua in the hallway. “You’re not going to believe this.” He referred to the notes in his tablet.

“Tell me about Paige Graham,” Joshua ordered.

“That’s what you’re not going to believe,” Murphy said. “Ripley called. She was the issue that threatened Sebastian Graham’s security clearance when he came back from the Gulf War. He married her. During their background check on her, the FBI discovered that not only was her father tight with the Russian mob—the Kalashov family to be exact, but Paige had lived with Adrian Kalashov for over two years while they both attended Yale.”

“That’s our Russian connection,” Joshua said. “Any proof that they’re still connected?”

“According to the RICO division,” Murphy said, “their inside guy tells them that Adrian Kalashov has a woman friend whom he infrequently meets at out of the way places—bed and breakfasts, resorts—very low key. They’re sort of friends with benefits. No one knew her name until Ripley sent them Paige’s picture. They identified Paige as that woman.” He tapped Joshua on the arm. “Here’s the kicker. Ripley says RICO told her that Adrian Kalashov is in the city now. He came down last night with some of his heavy hitters. Something is going down.”

“Anything to prove that he came down because of General Graham?”

“He’s obviously got a vested interest in Graham’s future,” Murphy said. “Guess who provided Maya Fedorov with a character reference on her last security update.”

“Paige Graham,” Joshua said.

“Paige claimed to have known Dolly Scanlon, aka Maya Fedorov, for over twenty years and she recommended her for the job as her husband’s personal assistant. They met through charitable work in New York. The organization she claimed she had met Federov through has ties to one of Kalashov’s shell companies.”

“Everything now fits,” Joshua said. “Paige Graham was at the Clark home when Cameron tried to collect Tommy’s DNA. She knew that would expose her husband.”

“So she called in her mob connections to stop Cameron and Jessica,” Murphy said. “Makes sense, because we found no phone calls from Clark to Dolly or Graham.”

Joshua shook his head, “I didn’t think you would. Sebastian was completely caught off guard when you confronted him with all the murders that have cleared the way for him.”

“You mean you don’t think he knew anything about them? Even if he wasn’t behind them, you’d think he’d question why so many of his enemies were dying suddenly at such convenient times.”

“Denial can be a powerful thing,” Joshua said. “But when you confronted him with the facts, he couldn’t deny it anymore. He was too much of a coward to face that his wife had been using her own personal mob connections to clear his way to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and probably beyond.”

“That’s why the mob positioned one of their own people close to General Graham,” Murphy said. “They saw how he was moving up and decided to take advantage. They wanted to be ready to cash in when he got into a position where it would benefit them.”

“And that never would have happened if Francine Baxter and those women had gone public about Sebastian Graham being a sexual predator.”

“We need to pick up Paige Graham before she puts a hit out on anyone else,” Murphy said.

“What makes you think she hasn’t?”

In the early morning hours, Joshua in Murphy’s SUV, followed by his son on his motorcycle, arrived to find that a team of Phantoms had already infiltrated the Graham estate, a sprawling mansion with plenty of acreage and security in a northern Virginia suburb. After being directed to park off a side road, the leader of the Phantom team, Major Marshall Ford, a bald headed marine, stepped up to the driver’s side of the SUV.

“The place was a fortress armed with former military types,” Major Ford reported. “We managed to take them all down without firing a shot and got inside. Paige Graham isn’t there. Their head of security says that shortly after she got a call from the army’s chief of staff that her husband had committed suicide, she made one phone call. Less than an hour later, a limousine showed up. Two men went inside. One had dark hair with white at the temples. The other wore a suit that costs more than this SUV. About a half hour later, she left in the limo with the two of them. That was about an hour ago.”

Overhearing this, Murphy said, “The guy with the black and white hair sounds like one of the shooters that escaped from Starbucks. Maybe Paige Graham’s making a run for it. The Russian mob is helping her escape.”

Joshua was shaking his head. “Did the guards ever see these two men before?” he asked the major who replied that they hadn’t.

“She was raised in the mob, Murphy,” Joshua said. “She’s invested many years to her husband and clearing the way for him to get to the top. Now that we’ve taken away her prize stud when he was on the brink of greatness—she’s going to demand payback.”

“Jessica and Cameron!” Murphy ran back to his motorcycle. He threw open the travel compartment and extracted his utility belt, which contained two service weapons and his knife.

“Does she know where you live?” Major Ford asked.

Murphy was already back on his motorcycle. “Admiral Patterson’s wife showed her.” He turned on the bike and spun out on his way out onto the dark country road to take him home.

Chapter Thirty-One

“I can’t believe we’re tearing this house apart in the middle of the night to find a spider.” With a sigh of exhaustion, Cameron sat up from where she was shining a flashlight under the sofa. “What were you doing feeding her in the middle of the night anyway?”

“I forgot to before I went to bed,” Jessica said from where she was laying on her back under the dining room table searching its underside. Having not bothered to put on her bathrobe before rushing off to feed Monique, she was dressed only in an oversized navy t-shirt and blue lace panties. “I woke up at three o’clock and remembered and was afraid I’d forget this morning. When I went downstairs, I found that some
animal
must have knocked the lid off her tank—” she cast a glare in Spencer’s direction “and she got out.”

On the sofa, Spencer laid back her ears and buried her snout under her paws.

“She’ll turn up,” Cameron assured her. “We’re all tired and keyed up. Let’s go to bed.”

Jessica rolled over and crawled out from under the table. “Being a detective, don’t you resent not going with Joshua and Murphy?”

“I’m not a Phantom,” she said. “No visitors allowed. Besides, we still don’t know who or what was behind that hit on us this afternoon. They could have been going after Izzy since she is most likely General Graham’s daughter.” She patted the gun she had tucked in the pocket of her bathrobe. “So I’m not exactly stuck here making soup and sandwiches while waiting for our men.”

Gesturing for Jessica to follow her, Cameron went over to the stairs leading to the floors above. “Let’s go to bed.”

Groaning about not finding Monique, Jessica went over to the front door to check the lock and the security panel. “Oh, no.”

“What oh no?” Cameron stepped back down from the stairs.

“The security system is off,” Jessica said.

“You mean you forgot to activate it when Murphy and Josh left?”

“No, I activated it,” Jessica said, an edge of panic to her voice. “That was the last thing Murphy told me when he left. I mean it is off as in powered off. Like the system has been completely shut down.”

Pushing Jessica up against the wall, Cameron pulled her gun from her pocket. “Where’s your gun?”

Keeping low, Jessica hurried to the end table next to Newman’s chair and took a nine-millimeter Beretta from the top drawer. She checked the magazine. It was fully loaded.

“Good.” Cameron picked up Jessica’s cell phone from where she had left it on the dining room table and tossed it to her. “Call the police. I’ll go upstairs and get Izzy. You stay here by the door and don’t open it until the police arrive. Don’t go outside until they get here. These people are professionals. They could be waiting outside to shoot you when we step out into the open.”

Watching Cameron race up the stairs, Jessica sank to the floor to dial the police. Sensing her fear, Spencer trotted over to press up against her.

“Murphy will be here soon,” Jessica said while giving the dog a hug. Glancing over to the living room, she saw that Newman was eying her with question in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d be any good against an assassin.”

As if to answer her, Newman hit the power button on his remote to start the television.

The emergency operator had just picked up the phone when the doorbell sounded. With a shriek, Jessica dropped the phone and inched up to peer out the door.

Two men in police uniforms were waiting on the other side.

“Nine-one-one,” the emergency operator said, “what’s your emergency?”

“Mrs. Thornton,” one of the officers said, “it’s the police. Sorry to wake you up. Your security company called to report that your security system has shut down. They asked that we come to check on you.”

Sounds reasonable.

“Jessica!” Cameron hissed from up the stairs. “Ask for them to hold their badges up for you to see, and then ask the emergency operator to confirm.”

“Hello?” the police operator was still calling to her from the phone.

“I know what to do,” Jessica told Cameron before bringing the phone to her ear. “Can you hold on just a minute? I need for you to check a couple of badges for me.” Clutching her gun in both hands, she called through the door, “Press your badges up to the door so that I can read the numbers.”

There was a long silence.

On the stairs, Cameron craned her neck to peer through the cut glass in the front door. She saw that one of the officers stayed on the stoop while the other stepped away. “Jessica …” Two more figures appeared on either side of the door.

“It’s taking them an awfully long time to get their badges,” Jessica said.

Cameron saw two of the figures swinging their arms in unison. “Duck!”

The door exploded inward from the force of a metal battering ram. What had seconds before served as a barricade between the women and the assassins was now nothing more than chards of glass, wood, and metal.

Jessica and Spencer scrambled toward the dining room to take refuge behind the wall.

Cameron took down the first assassin through the door with three shots. The first one to his thigh brought him down to the floor. She finished him off with two shots to his head. Without stopping, she drove the assailant’s partners back out the door with a continuous stream of gunfire.

Dropping back to replace her magazine, she yelled down the stairs, “Make ‘em head shots, Jessie! They’re wearing vests!”

Newman responded to the violence by slapping the remote with a paw to up the volume on the television.

“Cameron!” Izzy screamed from upstairs. “What’s happening?”

“Hide, Izzy!” Cameron yelled.

Head shots. They’re wearing vests. Need to make it head shots.
Taking deep breaths, Jessica pressed up against the wall. She clutched her gun in both hands.
No rules, Jessie. Time to stomp on your bitch button!

Determined to make her shots at the intruders count, she sucked in a deep breath and whirled around to take aim at the doorway. Before she could pull the trigger, she felt a powerful hand grasp the back of her head and ram it into the wall.

As she slid down to the floor, she heard a rough voice chuckle. “What a lovely piece of ass you are. We’re gonna have some fun with you before we finish this job.”

Fighting to remain conscious long enough to see her attacker, Jessica could make out his dark hair with white temples.
Sidewalls.