“Antonio’s looking into anybody who might have gotten out in the past three years. He figures if it’s anybody who got out farther back than that, they’d have already made a play for him.” Rafe’s gaze met his. “I agree. Most of the people Antonio and the FBI put away, at least for the most part, weren’t murderers or cold-blooded killers. I kind of agree with you, Nick. Thinking it’s somehow connected to Antonio doesn’t feel right.”
“Calvin is running the list of men we’ve narrowed it down to through the airports and airlines to see if we get a match for anybody headed to the States. Of course, if they went to another country and then bounded to the U.S., that’ll take longer to find. That’s if anybody matches up.”
“At least that’s a solid plan. Maybe you’ll get a hit.”
“We’re still looking at open cases, though I haven’t really worked on much other than the Brashear case for the past couple of years. Plus, I was undercover, as you know. I wasn’t able to keep close tabs on my prior cases. Was there bad blood between me and some of the men I helped put behind bars? Threats to kill me? Yes. Narrowing the list down is going to take time, which unfortunately we might not have if it’s somebody intent on taking me out.”
“How many people are we talking about, ballpark figure? Let’s start with those who’ve been released from jail or prison, who might carry a big enough grudge to take a potshot at you.”
Reaching into his shirt pocket, Nick pulled out the folded piece of paper and spread it out on the table before passing it to Rafe. He knew the listed names by heart, he’d studied it so many times.
Fifteen names. Fifteen men he’d been responsible for arresting, assisted in gathering the information that got them prosecuted and put behind bars. Some with life sentences, though most of them were given multiple year sentences. Two of the lifers on the list had their sentences commuted to multiyear terms. He wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get their sentences reduced, though he knew they had deep pockets, and unfortunately, some judges were like everyone else, susceptible to bribes if the dollar amount was big enough.
Rafe looked at the list and whistled before passing it to Chance. Nick knew exactly whose name elicited that response. Wallace Fleming. One of the richest men in Australia, a billionaire who’d made his name producing blockbuster films. Some of the biggest stars in Australia and Hollywood had starred in Fleming’s films. He was sought after, courted, and wooed by Hollywood’s elite, big names and wannabes, all hoping they’d get a chance to work in Fleming’s movies. Walking down the red carpet at star-studded events had become a stroll in the park for Fleming, who’d been nominated for an Academy Award three times.
What nobody knew was behind the camera, Fleming ran his own private, off-the-books, child pornography business, one that had a worldwide clientele. Nick shuddered as he remembered the kids, hidden away at a secluded estate, basically kept in cages, dirty and disheveled, malnourished to the point of emaciation. It was a case he took personal pleasure in bringing down the monster who fed the predilection of evil people who thought nothing of the kids whose lives were destroyed.
“I didn’t know you worked the Fleming case. That was big news, even here in America. Weren’t they able to tie two deaths to him?” Chance’s hand smoothed the creases out of the page.
“We did. Two of the boys who were rescued were in such bad shape when they were admitted to the hospital, they didn’t make it. Fleming owned the property where the victims were found.” Nick sighed. “He appealed his case, got off on a technicality for the deaths, because he rented the property to a corporation, and had no direct knowledge of any illegal activity taking place at the residence.”
“What a crock. He knew.” Rafe’s frown spoke volumes.
“The judge had no choice. Somehow key evidence in the case disappeared. Evidence I know was in the file, because I saw it with my own eyes. Pictures of Fleming with one of the boys that died. Pictures of him with the little girls. He didn’t participate in the actual films, but he—” Nick couldn’t continue, anger roiling deep in his gut. Knowing Fleming walked the streets after what he’d put those kids through was untenable. Nobody knew better than Nick exactly how those kids felt, how helpless and alone. Waiting and hoping for a savior who’d rescue them—only no one ever appeared, and they were trapped with no way out.
“Fifteen names on this list. All free now. What’s your gut telling you, Nick? You’ve been at this for a long time. Anybody on this list make the hair on the back of your neck stand up when you think about them walking the streets? Anybody you hurt enough they not only want you dead, but took steps to make it happen?”
“Yeah.” Nick stared at Chance for long moments before shifting his gaze to Rafe. “There are more than a few who’d love to see me go toes up. Hate me enough to wish me dead. Other than Brashear, there are two with the wherewithal, the money and the connections, to get it done. One is Fleming, without a doubt. The other, well, he’s the one who makes my skin crawl just thinking about him. Calvin thinks I’m crazy to even consider him, because he was simply a white collar-type criminal, didn’t do anything violent or evil, simply did everything for financial gain. But every time I picture his face, that last day in court, the look in his eyes when he was taken from the courtroom, I read the hate and the promise of revenge. He wants to paint the walls red with my blood.”
“Who?” Rafe asked the question quietly.
“Simon Norville. Except there’s one problem with that scenario. Simon Norville couldn’t have flow to the U.S. and taken a shot at me, because he’s stuck in a wheelchair. He’s paralyzed from the neck down. During his arrest, he tried to run, and I tackled him. We tumbled down a flight of stairs, and he ended up with a broken spine. In court he acknowledged it was an accident, and claimed he didn’t blame me. I didn’t buy his testimony that he didn’t hold me responsible for his injury. He was totally lying, which he did throughout his trial. But, if you’re asking for my gut instinct, the person who’d get the most pleasure from seeing me dead, who’d gleefully pay to have me shot, it’s Simon Norville.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Good morning, ladies.”Gracie smiled at the women who’d entered her shop moments earlier. One or more of them usually showed up to pick up their standard to-go order, but this morning four of the Boudreau crew, as she liked to call them, had shown up, their laughter and smiles infectious.
“Hi, Gracie. It’s a bit chilly this morning. How about getting me a hot chocolate,” Tessa paused a moment, then grinned. “Extra whipped cream.”
“You’ve got it. What about the rest of you?”
“I’ll have the same,” Beth responded, looking down at her new son. Swaddled and wrapped up against the morning chill, all Gracie could see was his little nose and big blue eyes, which twinkled brightly beneath the shop’s lights. Subtle movements beneath the wraps covering the lower part of his face outlined the pacifier in his mouth. Aw, he was definitely a cutie, and looked just like his dad, Brody.
“Caramel frappuccino, heavy on the caramel. I need the caffeine and sugar boost. Another night of no sleep. Sometimes I hate deadlines.” Camilla’s mouth opened in a huge yawn almost before she finished the words.
“I’m sure your readers appreciate your sleepless nights every time they read one of your books, sugar. I know I do.” Gracie had become a fan of Camilla’s books after the writer moved to Shiloh Springs. She loved the mix of romance woven into her suspenseful stories. It didn’t hurt that the spicy and steamy love scenes were smoking hot, either.
“Thanks. I love what I do, honestly. I am having fits with this scene I’m working on. The characters aren’t cooperating at all. You’d think they’d do what I want, since I created them, but no, they want to do the opposite of what I intended.” Camilla leaned forward and brushed her fingertip against the baby’s cheek. “Not like you, right, Patrick?”
Gracie felt a teeny bit of envy, looking at Patrick, held lovingly in his mother’s arms. Felt an emptiness inside she couldn’t explain. Lately, her biological clock had been ticking louder and louder, and she did her best to ignore it. After all, it was kind of hard to think about having a child when she didn’t even have a man in her life. Oh, she dated occasionally, but she hadn’t found anybody who made her heartbeat speed up at the sight of him. Hadn’t found anybody who made her think about settling.
Not that she’d ever stay in one place too long. She couldn’t. Too many ghosts. Too many demons in her past. She had this place that she’d built from scratch, but one day she’d need to move on, and she’d leave it behind. No matter how much she loved her shop, loved interacting with the town folk of Shiloh Springs, she wasn’t the type to stay in one place too long. Thankfully, she hadn’t had the itch to move along to the next place. Not yet, anyway.
“Okay, that’s two hot chocolates extra whipped cream, and one caramel frap, add extra caramel. What about you, Serena? What’ll you have?”
Serena looked up from her phone, where she’d been typing like mad. “Large coffee, black, two sugars. And make it to go, please. Looks like I’m going to have to calm down a client who’s getting cold feet about closing on her new house. She’s a first-time buyer and terrified that she’s making a mistake. Gotta convince her everything’s going to be fine.”
Gracie turned to the counter and gave the order to the barista, knowing she’d get it processed ASAP. She walked with the ladies as they commandeered the four-top by the big window fronting her shop. She loved that she’d been able to find a space for her shop right on Main Street with a large front window, where people walking by could not only smell the wonderful scent of freshly brewed coffee, but glance inside and see the cozy ambience Gracie had worked hard to instill in the place. She knew it was a temporary stopgap, but she wanted to bring small moments of happiness to others, even if it was only with a cup of coffee.
