No Escape (24 page)

“What?” Luke and Tessa asked together.

“You said the Ianelli Family is a potential business partner. This is where I believe Ricky is getting his financial assistance,”
Chantal said simply. “They are not one of the big-time ethnic flavors of Mafia here in Southern California. They’re the offshoot of a small Midwest family, and they make their living by taking a skim of ongoing criminal operations in their territory. They do have a small drug-running and smuggling ring based out of the Inland Empire in the desert, but that’s because the other profitable routes between Mexico and San Diego to L.A. were already taken.”

“From my time with the sheriff’s department, I remember that the Ianellis were involved in extortion and excise tax violations more than anything else. They would go around to the small-time local operations in prostitution, drug running, strip clubs, and cigarette sales, then extort the people running those schemes for a cut of the profits. Basically, a high-volume protection racket with many individuals paying small amounts of money.”

Chantal nodded. “Yes. The Ianellis have been able to squeeze their way into small-time operations that other, bigger criminal organizations have written off as too tiny or not profitable enough. These small-time operations have become the niche of the Ianellis, but what if they also wanted to start growing and getting a bigger slice of the action?”

“They would form alliances like any other company,” Tessa said. “In this case, with Club Red, Inc. And Ricky Hedges.”

“Yes, indeed. I think we may be onto something here,” Chantal said. “What if Ricky needed help expanding his business, and the Ianellis needed an organization that can absorb some of their illegal profits as well? Wouldn’t it behoove them to combine forces and create some sort of joint venture?”

“Maybe in the short run,” Luke said. “But it’s been my experience that criminal alliances never last. And that’s good news for us—it shows us exactly where the weak link is with Club Red. After a while, especially under close scrutiny by law enforcement, the criminal partnerships start to fracture
under the pressure. If we exert specific force in carefully chosen places…”

“The whole conspiracy falls apart,” Tessa finished with a grim smile.

“I don’t wish to be a wet blanket,” Chantal began. “But I must advise you that it is extremely difficult to prove the type of money laundering and racketeering activities that we are talking about here. It’s one of the reasons that law enforcement officials build the case in other ways, first.”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked. “We see evidence of the FBI and the Treasury Department targeting these criminal conspiracies all the time. People go to prison for this stuff.”

“True,” Chantal agreed. “But these task forces have years to investigate. You have, I think, only a very short period of time. That is if Kelly Maarten is your true focus.”

“She is,” Tessa said.

“So you need information on the money laundering and other federal activities to force people to return Kelly and to testify about what was done against her. I just don’t see how we can do this quickly. With enough time and money, we could uncover what is going on in California and in the US banking system, because we have regulations that assist law enforcement. But to understand the full picture, I would also need full access to international bank records and transactions, including offshore banks.”

“And they don’t share this information with law enforcement?” Luke asked.

“No. Look at the Swiss, sitting on bank records predating World War II. It’s worse in the new world, in the Caribbean and South American offshore banks. Inevitably we would come up against the roadblock of bank secrecy, and so far no agency has found a good way around that.”

“There has to be something,” Tessa said.

“Maybe I could look unofficially into records through old colleagues, or we could pay someone to hack into various
systems. But we would not be able to take that information to trial. I’m sorry,” Chantal added, when she saw Tessa’s expression.

“We haven’t come this far to turn back,” Tessa promised. “How are these cases normally resolved expeditiously, if tracking the financial records through shell corporations and offshore banks doesn’t work?”

“We must have inside information,” Chantal said simply. “It is the only fast way to do things.”

“We can do that,” Luke said. “We need to get enough leverage to force someone to roll over on Ricky, the Ianellis, and the shady financial advisor. And to get that leverage, we have to figure out which of our players to squeeze hard enough that he starts singing.”

“Jerry Kravitz and Sledge Aiken,” Tessa said instantly. “We have the Kelly connection, and proof that she was a minor runaway living under Jerry’s roof when Sledge paid to have sex with her. We’ll have to use that to get them talking and make up the rest of the strategy as we go along.”

Luke stepped aside to take a call on his cell phone, and Chantal began to gather her things. She handed a card to Tessa. “This has my home and cellular numbers, as well as my e-mail address and a secure FTP site for large document transfers. In the meantime, I will go back over the financial records you sent me and begin to draft text for subpoenas on other documents. I must see more detailed information on the workings of Club Red, Inc., in order to finish the accounting investigation.”

“Get me the subpoena text as soon as you can. Carmen gave me the name of a federal judge whose campaign was based on stamping out corruption and corporate crime. He should be sympathetic to our case and will issue subpoenas and warrants if we get the paperwork in order.”

“Let’s go see Jerry at home right now,” Luke said to Tessa as he hung up. “He just put in an urgent call asking Sledge to meet him there in an hour.”

“I’m probably going to regret asking, but how do you know where Jerry is and what he said on the phone to Sledge?” Tessa asked.

“I’ve had a team doing surveillance on his house with a parabolic microphone for a couple of days,” Luke replied.

“Shush. I didn’t hear you,” Tessa protested. “We don’t have a warrant for that.”

“I don’t want to take him to court with the information, baby. I just want to know where he is so that we can, um, talk.”

Los Angeles, California

Monday afternoon, March 15

L
uke and Tessa cruised to a stop in her car several houses down the street from Jerry Kravitz’s property. Luke looked around and caught sight of his surveillance team in a white utility van. He hesitated as he removed his seat belt, then spoke. “I suppose it’s useless to ask you to stay behind.”

“Pretty much.”

“You may not like some of the methods I have to use. At least if you stay in the car, you have some deniability if it gets to a trial,” Luke pointed out.

“As you said, I’m not looking for information I can take to court. Lots of legal arm-twisting goes on during the plea-bargaining process. Most of it is off the record,” Tessa said.

“I want to warn you right now that Jerry might take some serious convincing. I’ll do my best to keep it clean, but at this point it’s really up to Kravitz how we come to a deal. It could get ugly,” Luke warned.

“Uglier than someone trying to run me down with a car?” Tessa asked. There was no heat in her voice; she just sounded determined.

“I give up. But bring your poker face.” Luke got out of the car and adjusted his light jacket. Tessa knew it covered a holstered handgun, though she hadn’t seen it closely enough to identify it.

She figured that gave her plausible deniability if it came down to it in court.

“What’s the strategy going to be to get Jerry to talk?” Luke asked. He took Tessa’s hand and gave some prearranged signal to his surveillance team in the van. There was no sign of a response, but he knew they’d gotten the message to start the tape recorder attached to their surveillance equipment.

“I’m going to use a popular old auction trick—going once, going twice, sold to the person who cooperates first.” Tessa gave his arm a squeeze and cuddled up to his side, figuring they were meant to look like a harmless couple as they approached Jerry’s front door.

“Good plan. I think the whole Club Red empire is tottering on the edge of collapse right now. Kind of like a display of oranges at the supermarket—pull out the right one, and the whole thing comes tumbling down.”

“And at this point, I don’t even think it’s important who we squeeze—as long as someone starts talking. The rest will come from the momentum created by that one person caving,” Tessa agreed.

She followed Luke as he walked up the drive, ignoring the path to the front door. Instead, he walked under the carport, passed Jerry’s black Mercedes coupe, and stopped at a side door that opened into the kitchen. He knocked twice sharply, then dropped Tessa’s hand to brace for Jerry’s reaction.

“It’s open!” Tessa heard Jerry’s voice, looked at Luke, then followed him as he went into the house.

“Hiya, Jerry. Expecting someone?” Luke asked.

Standing at the sink washing dishes, Jerry whipped around with a curse. He looked at Luke, then stared at Tessa for a
moment. “You’re that prosecutor who was spreading Kelly’s lies. What the hell are you doing here?”

“You said to come in,” Tessa pointed out.

“I thought you were someone else. Get the hell out of my house,” Jerry said, dropping the glass he was holding back into a sink filled with soapy water.

“We’re here completely off the record right now. Just a couple of people having a chat. I think you’re going to want to hear what she has to say,” Luke said. He looked around the kitchen, which was littered with dishes, cartons of Chinese food, and old pizza boxes.

Tessa also checked out Jerry’s kitchen—it was bachelor chic, all the way. Formica table, mismatched chairs, and a grimy film on vinyl flooring that hadn’t seen mop or bucket for months—if ever. The appliances sported a pumpkin-and-avocado color scheme that was so old it had come into fashion again, giving everything a weathered retro look that a better decorator might have been able to pull off. But not Jerry.

“I said to get out of here. You’ve got nothing on me, and I’m not talking to you without a lawyer present,” Jerry said. He casually turned his back to them and continued with the dishes, but Luke didn’t like the tension that was tightening the line of Jerry’s shoulders.

Without a word, Luke motioned Tessa to step to the rear of the kitchen. “That’s handy. We’ve got a lawyer right here. We’d like some information from you, and we’re willing to cut you a sweet deal for being the first in line to tell it to us.”

“Fuck off. If you had anything, you’d have arrested someone already. But I hear the judge shot your case full of holes and told you to back off. I guess pretty little blond girls who want to be singers don’t make reliable witnesses, eh,
Counselor
?” Jerry snorted at his own wit.

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought Kelly was remarkably composed—for a fifteen-year-old rape victim,” Tessa said.

Jerry froze with a dripping sponge in one hand, but didn’t look at anyone. “So you know.” His tone said he knew it was over.

“That Kelly is a minor? Yeah.” Luke kept sharp hazel eyes pinned on Jerry’s back. His own back was feeling twitchy, and the hairs at the nape of his neck were beginning to stand on end. Without a sound, he reached under his jacket and pulled his gun, coughing once to cover the sound of the weapon leaving its holster.

Tessa’s eyes widened and she took another few steps backward until she was standing in the doorway that led to the rest of the house. With the look on Luke’s face, the last thing she wanted to do was stand between him and the other man.

“Last chance—get the fuck out of my house, or a lying little bitch like Kelly is going to be the least of your problems.” Jerry fished around in the water-filled sink for a moment, then he whipped around with an eight-inch-long chef’s knife in his dripping right hand. He went still as he realized that Luke had a gun pointed directly at his head. His eyes then skittered over to Tessa, as if waiting to see what she would do.

“How do you want to play it, Jer?” Luke’s voice was even. He didn’t want to shoot the man, because they needed him to testify against the others. But at the moment, Tessa was Luke’s main concern. Nothing was more important than her safety. While Luke stood between her and Jerry, he’d learned a long time ago never to underestimate an opponent. He’d seen men charge into a loaded gun and do plenty of damage before they finally went down.

“You won’t shoot—you need me,” Jerry breathed as he tightened his grip on the knife.

“I need to breathe more,” Luke shot back. “And I’m not going to go for some flesh wound on your arm, asshole. Once a cop, always a cop. When I draw this gun, it means
I’m prepared to kill someone. You want to be that person today?” Luke asked.

Tessa held her breath as Jerry studied the room. He finally seemed to realize that Luke would pull the trigger and drop him without a second thought, so he threw down the knife. He put his hands up in the air and mentally began to curse Ricky Hedges.

“Kick it over here, Jerry. Gently.” Luke didn’t move a muscle, nor did he relax the hold on his gun.

There was absolute silence as Jerry balanced on one foot and gingerly kicked the knife forward about six feet. When he looked back at Luke, there was no change in his stance, no softening of his guard.

“Can you pick up the knife without getting between the gun and the asshole, Swiss?” Luke asked the question but didn’t look in her direction.

“Yes.” Her voice was a lot steadier than her hands as she crouched down and came forward to grab the knife. The ticking of the clock and Jerry’s labored breaths were the only sounds she could hear above the pounding of her own heart.

Carefully staying out of Luke’s line of sight, she crept backward with the sudsy knife in her left hand, using her right hand on the floor to keep from wobbling in her awkward pose. As Tessa reached the back of the kitchen and stood up again, she considered putting the weapon down on a bookcase. With a brief glance at Luke, she decided against it until Jerry was completely under control.

Though as she watched beads of sweat roll down his face, she figured Jerry was pretty much hers.
Lucky freaking me
, she thought as she blew hair away from her face.

“Lace your hands behind your head, fucko. Then get down on your knees,” Luke instructed Jerry.

Luke watched Jerry the way he would a rattlesnake as the other man complied.

“My lawyer is going to hear about this,” Jerry muttered.

“Facedown on the floor,” Luke said. “And he’s not going to hear about it from us. I tried to do this the nice way, even offered you a carrot. But some people only understand the stick.” He sighed with mock regret.

Tessa spoke from her position in the doorway. “I was even willing to offer you an exclusive deal. Now you’ll have to wait until Sledge gets here, and we’ll see who gives me the best information. That person will get the sweet offer.”

“While we’re waiting, why don’t you look in the carport and utility room to see if Jerry has any duct tape. That should hold him while we talk,” Luke said.

Without a word, Tessa walked through the living room and headed to the laundry area, where she began opening cabinets. When that didn’t yield any tape or rope, she decided to go out the door leading to a side yard to see if Jerry had some kind of utility shed, since she already knew there wasn’t a garage on the property.

“Why did you call Sledge and ask him to come over?” Luke asked Jerry, as they listened to Tessa rummage through cabinets. “What was it that you couldn’t say on the phone?”

Jerry was silent as he lay facedown on the floor.

“We really need to work on your concept of rewards for good behavior, Jer. You help us out now, things go easier on you in the future when we bust the whole damn operation.”

“She’s gone,” Jerry muttered. “I called Sledge to let him know that Kelly is gone.”

“What do you mean by ‘gone’?” Luke asked softly.

“I don’t know where she is. Last time I saw her she was leaving Club Red with Ricky’s assistant, and she was in big trouble. That was two days ago. I heard she got caught trying to pass a letter to one of the strippers in the club. Apparently it was a message for your girlfriend there. Ricky blew a fucking gasket,” Jerry said.

Luke heard a door slam and the sound of Tessa’s footsteps rushing back.

“Here’s the duct tape, and some rope I found,” she said breathlessly.

Luke didn’t want her anywhere near Jerry, so he carefully handed his gun over to Tessa and took the rope himself. “Keep the gun pointed at Jerry’s head. There’s no hammer to cock, so it’s—”

“A double action, I know,” Tessa said, sounding confident. She handled the gun with ease, though it had been years since she’d fired one. At Luke’s surprised look, she gave him a wry look. “Paul used to run the FBI—do you think he’d let me grow up without a ton of firearms training?”

Shaking his head and smiling, Luke bent over Jerry. Prudently keeping away from the other man’s head—where Tessa held the gun with unwavering attention—he quickly taped his hands behind his back and hog-tied him with the rope.

“Is he secure?” Tessa asked.

“I’m getting there,” Luke grumbled, giving the knots a sharp tug to make sure they would hold.

“Hurry, I have to show you something.”

Luke glanced up at her serious tone and saw that Tessa was upset. Her eyes were dark and stormy, and he could see that she was clenching her jaw, but her hands were steady as she held the gun.

“What is it, baby?” Luke walked up to her and took the gun away, shoving it in his holster as he studied her face.

“Follow me.” She led the way through the small and shabbily furnished living room. She preceded him through the laundry room and out into a paved side yard that would normally be used to park a camper or motor home.

Instead of a recreational vehicle, there was a large car covered with a tarp. Tessa led Luke around to the far side, where she’d pulled the tarp back to expose a crushed right front end with grille damage and a shattered headlight. Scrapes and deep gouges scored the sides of the dark blue vehicle.

Without a word, Luke flipped the tarp back more to reveal
a gaping space where the windshield should have been on the Chevy Caprice.

“This is the car that killed Ed,” he said. “Do you think Jerry was driving?”

Tessa shook her head. “I don’t think he has the guts. But he knows who did it. This changes everything.”