He handed the phone to Kelly, who proceeded to recount the previous evenings details.

  Hale took a deep breath. “Hand the phone back to Cal.” She complied.

  “Now do you believe me?” Cal asked.

  “Maybe I’m convinced. What else did you learn?”

  “Not much. I’m going to talk with one of my contacts at the FBI and see what I can find about these guys from a description I give him.”

  “Keep me posted,” Hale said. “And Cal?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Try to stay outta trouble, okay?”

  Cal growled and hung up the phone. “If only I could.”

  He began dialing Tom Corliss, his contact at the F.B.I.

  “What are you doing?” Kelly asked.

  “Maybe Corliss can tell us what we need to know.”

  After a few rings, Corliss answered. “Cal Murphy—to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Pleasure isn’t exactly the word I would use.”

  Corliss laughed. “So, I guess the better question is: What have you got yourself into this time?”

  “Let’s just say I got into an altercation with a few guys last night that I believe to be members of the Russian mafia.”

  “Bratva?”

  “I think that’s what I was told.”

  “What in the world, Cal? What are doing with those guys?”

  “Well, I’m not sure, but I was hoping you could verify that’s who they are for me.”

  “And how am I going to do that?”

  “I took pictures of their tattoos and I got their fingerprints on an app for my phone.”

  “You got their fingerprints?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t even wanna know how.”

  “You sure don’t.” Cal paused. “Just check them out for me, okay? I’m sending them to you now along with pictures of their tats.”

  ***

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Cal’s phone buzzed with a call from Corliss.

  “Got your results,” Corliss said.

  “And?”

  “You were right. Russian Mafia—the Bratva, to be exact.”

  “Great.”

  “What do you need from me right now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Cal, these people are dangerous.”

  “I know. But I’m trying to figure out a way to pin down who put them up to this—and any F.B.I. involvement could impede that.”

  “Not having my help could also cost you your life.”

  “We’ll be fine, okay? We’re smart. We know how to navigate something like this.”

  “Oh, so Kelly is with you, too?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about your daughter? Who’s watching over her?”

  “Kelly’s mother. We’re good. Trust me.”

  Corliss sighed. “I’m not happy about this, Cal. These guys are dangerous. They’ve got limitless resources and can surprise you. I can’t tell you how many agents we’ve lost at the hands of the Bratva.”

  “Well, let’s make sure you don’t lose any more, okay?”

  Cal hung up and turned toward Kelly.

  “How bad is it?” she asked.

  “It’s not good.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Cal shook his head. “We’re going to have plenty of challenges.”

  “Did you turn down his offer to help?”

  “We’ve got this, Kelly. Trust me.”

  “The last time I trusted you, I almost ended up dead in my own home.”

  “This is different. We’re together now.”

  “You’re too naïve, Cal.”

  “No, we’re going to be just fine. I’ve got a plan.”

  “You’ve always got a plan.”

  “But not like this. This plan is going to help us not only nail Kelvin Jameson’s killer, but it’s also going to help us figure out who is trying to stop us. Are you with me?”

  She nodded. “But if things go sideways, I’m relying on you to have a way out.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve already been thinking about that.”

  “This situation requires more than simply thinking about it. We need a concrete, resolute way to escape in case they come after us.”

  “Not if, Kelly. It’s when.” He walked toward the window and gazed out over the city. “It’s only a matter of time.”

  CHAPTER 29

  SCOTT PERRY DECIDED to go into the office late after drinking six too many glasses of Scotch the night before. It was nearly ten o’clock by the time he stumbled out of the guest bedroom where he’d been sleeping. Scarlett’s incessant whining pushed him to the edge of his sanity. Short of staying in a hotel, Perry decided the best option would be to sleep somewhere else in the house and avoid her altogether.

  “Scott! What are you doing?” she said as he wandered into the hallway in his robe.

  He rubbed his face with both hands and shook his head slowly. “Do we have to do this so early in the morning?”

  “With all the clients you’re losing, I assumed you’d be in at the office early, not late.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Scott. I figured out what was going on here. Our depleted bank account, your avoidance of me, the certified letter we received at the house this morning—”

  “Certified letter? What certified letter?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I opened it and read it. Gordon Thompson is dumping you too—you know, that NBA All-Star who plays for the Suns?”

  “What do you mean ‘too’?”

  “I called the office, Scott,” she said as she slapped him on the shoulder. “I had to check up on you and find out what was really going on. Rumor has it plenty of players have been kicking you to the curb faster than a mold-infested sofa. That’s when it all made sense to me. We’re going down in flames.”

  Perry hung his head and sighed. “It’s not like that.”

  “Then tell me what it’s like. It’s not like we’re behind on all our payments? It’s not like your business is disappearing? It’s not like you haven’t made a mortgage payment in two months?”

  Perry let out a guttural scream before spinning on his heels and returning to the guest bedroom.

  Scarlett followed him to the door, which he shut in her face. “Don’t think you can run away from this,” she said as she yelled on the other side of the door. “You’re gonna have to face this at some point. You’re gonna have to face me.”

  I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a spoon.

  He turned on his phone and scrolled through his emails. None of them looked enticing to read. He read the subject line from his assistant: “Thompson’s notice.”

  No need to look at that one.

  And then one from his lawyer: “SuperSport Case.”

  On Feb 16 at 2:30 PM, Clive Scott wrote:

  Scott,

  I was writing you about your request to review the SuperSport contract and your potential case against them for refusing to complete the contract regarding the Kelvin Jameson commercial ad when I read an article from blogger Will Simon that changed everything. I was going to tell you that it looked bleak and you’d save yourself plenty of money by letting this one go. However, if what Simon is reporting is true, you have a strong case that would force them to pay if they continue to refuse in light of this new information.

  Let me know how you want to proceed.

  Regards,

  Clive Scott, Esq.

  Perry grinned as he re-read the email.

  Could I get this lucky?

  He knew that it wouldn’t save his business, his home, or—least of all—his marriage. But it might be enough to make SuperSport reconsider their position on refusing to pay up on the Kelvin Jameson commercial spot. Not to mention get him the money he needed to move forward with his next plan.

  Perry switched over to the browser on his phone to search for the Will Simon story. It didn’t take him long to find it.

  JAMESON MURDERED?

  By Will Simon

  Sources close to the Metropolitan Police Department indicated Wednesday night that a full-scale investigation is being opened into the death of popular Washington Wizards basketball player Kelvin Jameson.

  The autopsy report—which has yet to be released to the public—revealed that the popular “date rape” drug, Zolpidem, was found in Jameson’s system. Based on the circumstances under which Jameson’s body was discovered, sources say police believe it is unlikely that he would’ve taken the drug himself. Sources also added that police are finding it hard to fathom that the amount of Zolpidem in his bloodstream would have remained behind if he’d taken it over a day before.

  These details emerged less than 24 hours after Wizards’ owner Nikolay Gavin allegedly attempted to pay off Jameson’s widow, Tonya Jameson, who was denied the remainder of his salary and insurance payout due to the nature of his death. Recreational drug use precludes Tonya Jameson from collecting on either of the amount due to her late husband.

  The story went on but Perry had read enough.

  So, Gavin murdered Jameson? This might shape up better than I thought.

  ***

  PERRY STORMED INTO HIS OFFICE just before noon. Unshaven, with matted hair, he drew several stunned looks from his employees.

  “Larissa! Chelsea! Get in here now,” he barked before lumbering toward his desk.

  He slumped into his chair and propped his feet up on his desk while waiting on the two women.

  Moments later, they entered the room together.

  “I appreciate your service here. However, I can’t sustain your salaries with all the hits we’ve taken lately at this agency. So, I’m going to have to let both of you go. You’ll receive two weeks’ severance. Any questions?”

  The two women stared at him, mouths agape.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ ” he quipped. “Best of luck, ladies.” He sat properly at his desk and made a few notes on a piece of paper in front of him.

  He glanced up and they were still standing there. Larissa’s eyes beaded up with tears.

  “Go on now,” he said. “Shoo. I’ve got work to do.”

  The women scrambled out of the office and waited until the door was shut behind them until they burst into tears.

  Perry rolled his eyes as he listened to the crying that carried through his office door.

  Women.

  He rolled his eyes and continued jotting down notes.

  ***

  LARISSA PICKED UP HER PHONE and called Emma Bridges to tell her the news that she and Chelsea had just joined the group of Scott Perry castoffs.

  “Is that so?” Emma responded.

  “Yeah,” Larissa said. “He didn’t even look at us.”

  “Well, don’t worry. We’ll have the last laugh.”

  “Oh?” Larissa was intrigued. “How’s that?”

  “Did you hear about the story regarding Kelvin Jameson’s death?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It wasn’t an accident.”

  “I know. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  Emma snarled. “Just you wait. We need to all talk about this in person. We’re going to make Scott Perry rue the day he fired us.”

  CHAPTER 30

  NIKOLAY GAVIN SLICED his wasabi and panko crusted ahi tuna steak while he glanced around The Palm restaurant. While he enjoyed his early lunch, D.C.’s elite brokered deals to assuage constituents. He shook his head at the scene as he bit into another scrumptious piece of meat.

  He looked up to see several Metropolitan Police Department members storming toward him, interrupting his Friday lunch ritual.

  “Stand up, please, Mr. Gavin,” one of the officers said.

  Gavin threw his napkin on the table. “I demand to know the meaning of this.”

  “Stand up, Mr. Gavin. We don’t want to make a scene,” the officer reiterated.

  “Fine.” He bumped his chair backward with the back of his legs as he stood up. “What is this all about?”

  One of the officers wasted no time in slapping handcuffs on him and reading him the Miranda Rights. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer—”

  “I demand to know what I’m being arrested for?” Gavin snapped.

  One of the other officers stopped. “I guess you don’t listen to the news much, Mr. Gavin. You’re being arrested for your connection in the murder of Kelvin Jameson.”

  Gavin yanked his hands back from the officer attempting to place handcuffs on him. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Absurd? Perhaps. But your fingerprints were all over the room.” The officer paused. “I’ll let your lawyer explain that to the judge.”

  Gavin relented and offered his wrists to the officer, who slapped handcuffs on him. “This is ridiculous and you know it.”

  He scanned the restaurant. Several patrons had already picked up their smart phones to capture the ordeal.

  Gavin hid his head, irate that the event was even happening. “I guess the bar is low on getting an arrest warrant for circumstantial evidence.”

  “Your fingerprints were everywhere, sir,” one of the officers answered. “And your motive?”

  “My motive?” Gavin said, ignoring his Miranda Rights warning yet again. “Why in the world would I kill one of my best players?” He stamped his foot. “This is absurd.”

  “You’ve got plenty of other motives, sir,” said another officer. “Not to mention the fact that we have footage of you speaking with several men who exited Mr. Jameson’s hotel room moments after what the coroner determined was the time of his death.”

  “You’ve got to be joking?” he snapped.

  One of the officers pushed him forward, leading him through the maze of tables at The Palm.

  “I’m afraid we’re very serious, sir,” the officer said. “I hope you have a good lawyer.”

  Gavin stared at his surroundings in disbelief. Every smart phone in the room was aimed in his direction. He put his head down in an attempt to hide from the watchful eyes intent on capturing his public disgrace.

  “It’s too late to hide, Mr. Gavin,” one of the officers said. “The whole world will know about your arrest before we arrive at the station.”

  Gavin ducked as he stepped into the police car waiting outside the restaurant.

  “You’re going to wish you never did this,” he snapped.

  ***

  MARCUS HALE READ THE REPORT from Will Simon’s blog about the arrest of Nikolay Gavin. Twitter exploded with the news of his arrest, which Simon somehow got wind of and posted in less than half an hour after it happened. Social media was filled with stories linking back to Simon’s blog.

  “I swear, Cal Murphy is going to die a painful death if I have any say in it,” Hale snarled under his breath.

  He called Cal.

  “Are you paying attention to what’s happening here?” Hale asked Cal.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you on Twitter?”

  “No, I’m trying to get the feel for my story about the Wizards on the road.”

  “Well, you better change your approach,” Hale growled. “There’s far more interesting things going on right now than how the Wizards pass the time in California.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Nikolay Gavin has just been arrested in connection with the death of Kelvin Jameson.”

  Cal didn’t say a word.

  “Cal? Are you there?” Hale asked.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Well, stop being shocked and start investigating. This sounds legit.”

  Cal snickered. “And the only place you found this thus far is on Will Simon’s blog?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Cal laughed again. “You can’t always count on Will to bring you the truth, can you? He’s been known to—how do we say it without offending anyone—exaggerate things.”

  “Sure,” Hale quipped. “But this was no exaggeration. This was the real deal. I’ve got photos to prove it.”

  “Oh? Do share.”

  “Already doing it,” Hale snapped.

  Moments later, Cal’s phone dinged with the arrival of new photos showing Nikolay Gavin’s arrest earlier that day at The Palm.

  “That makes plenty of sense,” Cal responded. “Anything you want me to do?”

  “Just don’t get beat again, Cal. Any more and you may not get all of the sweet assignments you’ve received in the past.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to track this story down while I’m out here?”

  “Good question. I’m cancelling the assignment. You and Kelly book a flight and get back here today. This story is far more important, and I need you on this right now.”

  CHAPTER 31

  EMMA BRIDGES ORDERED a drink at the bar and waited for her two former co-workers, Chelsea and Larissa. Emma had already landed three job offers and was almost ready to move on. Almost.

  She had one more thing she needed to do before she put this disastrous chapter in her life behind her. For the past few days, her conscience gnawed at her—and she needed to talk about it with some women who understood.

  “Hey, Emma,” Chelsea said as she slid onto the barstool on Emma’s left. Larissa took the stool on Emma’s right.

  “Good to see both of you,” Emma said. “Sorry about what happened.”

  “It sucks, but I’m kind of relieved,” Larissa said. “Working for Scott was about the worst job I’ve ever had.”

  “The only reason anyone ever stays is because of the pay,” Chelsea said.

  “Well, since we have nothing holding us back, why don’t we pay back our former leader with a dose of his own medicine?” Emma said.

  “And how are we gonna do that?” Larissa asked.

  “Simple. Have either of you been following Kelvin Jameson’s murder investigation in the papers?”

  They both nodded.

  Emma took a long pull on her drink and continued. “Now, nothing has surfaced yet about something that happened right before Scott let me go.”

 

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