Текст книги "Slaying the Dragon"

Автор книги: T.K. Leigh

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

They all looked up and met my gaze. “Of course,” Eli said. “We want to catch this bastard just as much as you do.”

Nodding, I spun on my heels and bolted upstairs to check on how Mackenzie was doing. Based on her fragile state, I didn’t want to leave her alone for too long. When I opened the door, the sun was setting, a glow spreading through the room and illuminating her body as she lay on the bed.

With light steps, I went to her and sat down beside her. Brushing her hair behind her ear so I could look at her face, I placed a kiss on her temple. She sighed, her eyes remaining closed. “I’ll make this right. I promise.”

Mackenzie

“HE DIDN’T KILL HIMSELF,” I insisted as I sat in a cold room of the South Padre police department the following day. I was going on hour number two of their inane questions, and we hadn’t gotten anywhere. All they wanted to talk about was Charlie’s attack on me during my freshman year of college, which resulted in his eventual institutionalization. But he didn’t kill himself and I knew it. I just wondered why this so-called FBI agent refused to look at the actual evidence, dwelling instead on Charlie’s institutionalization as the most poignant piece of information to prove it was suicide.

The longer I sat, Tyler beside me, the more irritated I became. This was not how I expected to be spending our first Thanksgiving together. I had hoped to be sitting with a stomach full of turkey, watching football as I snuggled next to Tyler. Instead, we were stuck at the police department, an incompetent FBI agent hell-bent on trying to convince me Charlie killed himself.

“If he didn’t kill himself, who did?” the overweight agent asked in a thick Spanish accent.

“No lo se. Why don’t you get off your ass and figure it out instead of sitting here asking me who did it? If I knew who killed him, don’t you think I’d tell you?”

“Not if you’re trying to cover for him.”

“For whom?” I asked, my voice growing louder.

“For this man,” the detective said, opening up the manila folder that sat in front of him. He pushed a photo of my father in front of me. On one hand, I was relieved he had finally admitted that Charlie was murdered. On the other, the insinuation my father was the one responsible for his murder was ludicrous. “You are Serafina Galloway, aren’t you?”

I maintained eye contact with Agent Suarez, wondering how he knew who I really was.

“I know all about how you and your mother disappeared after your father attacked the U.S. Embassy in Liberia all those years ago.”

Tyler bolted up from his chair, the fury on his face visible. “Mackenzie, you don’t have to answer any more of these questions. I’ll call my lawyer immediately.”

“No,” I insisted, grabbing Tyler’s hand. When I had gotten the phone call earlier this morning asking if I’d come down to answer a few questions, he begged me to tell them no, that we’d reschedule when he could arrange for his lawyer to be there with me. But I had nothing to hide and I wanted to do everything I could to finally move on from this chapter of my life.

Looking up at him, I said, “I’ve done nothing wrong.” I faced Agent Suarez. “Yes, after my father’s alleged attack on the embassy, my mother and I disappeared. I didn’t know why. All I knew was that I left the only life I had ever known and was forced to hide for years.”

He nodded smugly, pulling another photo out of the file. “And how about these three individuals? Do you know who they are?”

He slid a photo of a happy family across the table. I stared at the old photo of my former neighbors. Emily was enclosed in Harrison’s embrace, when I still knew him as Harrison Mills and before he became Benjamin Collins. In front of them was my best friend, Damian. I traced the contours of his youthful face, wishing I could rewind the clock and go back to that time, that I could warn my father not to go to Liberia.

“Yes. They were my old neighbors. The Mills,” I said finally, shoving the photo back at him.

“And do you know what happened to Emily Mills?”

“It’s Sheperd now, I guess,” I responded. “And she was murdered a few months ago, along with her current husband. I saw it on the news.”

“So you didn’t discuss this with Mr. Montgomery? If you saw it on the news, you must have known the prime suspect in that case was one Charles Patrick Montgomery.”

Tyler slammed his fist on the table, his face red with anger. “Don’t answer that, Mackenzie. This prick has no idea what he’s talking about.”

“Tyler,” I said calmly. “I have nothing to hide. I haven’t done anything wrong, so this prick, as you so aptly called him, can ask me all the questions he wants. He’s not going to find anything, but if he wants to waste his time, so be it.” I returned my attention to Suarez. “Now, you want to know if I discussed the Sheperd’s murder with Charlie… Yes, I did. He called me the night I learned about it and I accused him of the murder.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he was innocent, just as he did with all the other murders of which he was accused. He said he was being set up.”

“And did you believe him?”

“Truthfully, I didn’t know what to believe. I remember analyzing everything in my head, thinking if the only connection between Charlie and Whitman, the supposed hitman he had hired to kill all those people, was just a web blog and visitor records from Walter Reed, the FBI should work harder at finding some concrete evidence. But when I learned a hair fiber was found, I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t want to think he was a killer, and I’m still not quite convinced he is…or was.”

“Why?”

“Because I know Charlie,” I insisted through clenched teeth.

“Sometimes the most hardened criminals are those we never suspect, but you do have a point, Miss Galloway.”

“It’s Mrs. Burnham,” I corrected.

“I apologize,” Suarez said. “Mrs. Burnham. As you mentioned, we found a hair fiber of Charlie’s around the bodies of Emily and Lucian Sheperd back in Lafayette. We also found several prints on the door frame and windows, but we disregarded them because it was your old house.”

“Whose prints?” Tyler demanded, his patience waning even more.

“Francis Mackenzie Galloway,” the agent said, a satisfied smile on his face. “Considering that house has sat empty since he was assumed to have died in the attack on the embassy, we didn’t think much of it…until the initial forensics on Charlie’s death came back this morning.”

“And what did you find?” I asked softly.

“Well, it seems your father didn’t really die in that fire, did he? According to our source in Counterintelligence…” He shoved a one-page document across the table. It was the results of the classified investigation into the embassy attack, which named Colonel Francis Mackenzie Galloway as the perpetrator behind that and dozens of other acts of treason. “He’s the one responsible for it. Charlie was the lone survivor, wasn’t he?”

I nodded.

“So doesn’t it make more sense that all those people Charlie’s accused of killing were actually your father’s victims?”

“What?!” I exclaimed, my voice rising. “That’s ridiculous! My father was set up, just like Charlie was!”

“You keep saying that, but you’ve yet to offer any solid proof of who set him up, Mrs. Burnham! I’m just looking at the facts. Proof… Your father traded U.S. military weapons for money, secrets, diamonds.” He became angrier with each word he spoke. “Proof… He’s had an off-shore account for years, and the dates of dozens of large deposits coincide all too conveniently with dates of known deals he made.”

I continued shaking my head, trying to tune out what he was saying. I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t.

“Proof… He killed everyone who could have revealed he was still alive, including your mother, his own wife!”

“No, no, no, no, no,” I said, burying my head in my hands.

“Proof… He killed Charlie!”

I shot my head up. “What?”

“Proof, Mrs. Burnham!” he shouted, pushing a report across the table. My eyes scanned the words printed on it, but my brain couldn’t comprehend what I was reading. “Proof… Your father’s gun was used to kill Charlie. Proof… A fingerprint was lifted from the trigger and it matched your father’s. Proof… The same weapon was used to kill Harrison Mills, or Benjamin Collins, whose body was found yesterday by fishermen out in the Gulf of Mexico. Proof… Your father’s prints, along with signs of an intense struggle, were found all over the apartment of Damian Mills, who’s been missing since April! Proof… Your father is a criminal, a traitor! He’s put on an act so long, he may have even begun to believe he’s not the man he truly is, but you don’t have to. You can put a stop to all of this. You keep saying he’s been set up, that you’re trying to find out who did this. Stop fooling yourself, Mrs. Burnham! Your father did it! He did all of it!”

“Stop!” I cried, covering my ears.

“That’s enough!” Tyler roared, shooting out of his chair, sending it flying across the room. “We’re done here. If you want to talk to my wife or me, you can go through my lawyer.”

He wrapped his arms around my trembling body as tears streamed down my face, the agent’s words hitting me to my core. And it hit me hard because it made complete sense.

“Don’t cover for him, Mrs. Burnham!” he yelled down the hallway as Tyler escorted me out of the police department. “Just tell us where he is and you can end this! If you don’t, you may just be giving birth in prison. You need to decide if he’s worth it!”

I tried to shake off everything Agent Suarez had just told me as Tyler drove me back to his house, but I couldn’t. “Please don’t give up hope,” he whispered as I stared at the ocean waves, wishing they would give me the clarity to separate the truth from the lies.

Mackenzie

“WHY DON’T YOU TAKE a break from going through all that?” Tyler said to me as I sat surrounded by boxes in the living room of his house. The lights on the Christmas tree illuminated the room on that early December afternoon. A little less than a week had passed since Charlie had died and Tyler’s attorney had put the fear of God into Agent Suarez. I didn’t know what he had said to him, but we hadn’t heard from him since the day he questioned me.

The day after Thanksgiving, Tyler’s team had somehow tracked down a storage unit Charlie had been renting the past several months. There were photo albums, yearbooks, cards… All things Charlie thought important enough to hold onto. I had been spending the past few days reading through his journals. Tyler and his team had looked through them, hoping they would find something that could help clear my father’s name, but they turned out to just be journals of his thoughts, nothing more. And I found that, over the years, I hadn’t left Charlie’s thoughts for more than a day, and neither had the family he had lost.

I was consumed with his words, the passion and heartache he had been enduring pouring through the pages. For years after the fire, Charlie suffered from survivor’s guilt, and I wondered if he ever truly recovered from it. But he was a brilliant man, a man who had learned to read people and put on an act, which was what he did in order to enlist in the army and eventually become a Ranger. He made everyone think his life was perfect, that he was a model soldier, ready to give his life for his country. And he did just that, although his downward spiral was one no one could have seen coming.

“No,” I insisted, meeting Tyler’s eyes. “I like doing this.”

“I just don’t want to see you upset,” he said, sitting next to me on the floor. He ran his hands across my back, comforting me.

“I’m not. I know he’s gone, but reading his journals… It’s like he’s here with me.”

He took a deep breath, kissing me on the cheek before raising himself off the floor. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

I smiled at him. “I am.”

“I hate to leave you, but Eli wants to go over everything again to see if we’re missing something.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I keep holding out hope we’ll stumble across something we missed that will make everything clear.”

“Then you should go.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“I’m fine. Jenna texted earlier and I promised I’d meet her for a coffee this afternoon, so that will force me away from all of this.” I waved at the boxes scattered around me. “I think she misses having me at the restaurant, but she’ll never actually admit it.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, apprehension covering his face. I had been cooped up inside his house since returning from Florida. While it certainly gave me time to rest and prepare for the birth of Triple B, I was starting to go a little stir crazy.

“I know what you’re thinking and I want you to stop, Tyler. I’ve barely seen Brayden or Jenna since I got back from Florida, except for the day after Thanksgiving when they found out about Charlie. Not to mention, I won’t be seeing them at all once we move to Boston. I want all the time I can get with them.”

He rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t feel comfortable with you leaving.”

“Duly noted.” I smirked. “What can possibly happen? If it makes you feel better, I’ll text Jenna and see if she’s okay with getting together at her place instead.”

He cupped my cheek, a relieved expression washing over him. “That would make me feel better. Thank you.” He poised his lips over mine and I couldn’t help but smile at his closeness.

“You’re welcome,” I murmured as we shared a soft, beautiful kiss.

“Will you do something else for me?” he asked, pulling away.

“What is it?”

Spinning on his heels, he retreated down the hallway, disappearing into his office momentarily. When he returned, he was carrying a familiar small, black case. Opening it, I saw the pistol he bought for me all those months ago when he taught me how to shoot.

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “A bit of overkill, don’t you think?”

“Probably, but will you bring it with you when you leave here, just to be on the safe side?” His eyes were pleading with me and I could sense a hint of vulnerability about him. It seemed completely unnecessary, but if it eased Tyler’s troubled mind, there was no reason for me not to agree to his request.

“Okay.” I took the pistol out of its case, made sure the round wasn’t chambered, and placed it in my purse.

“Thank you,” he said, planting one final kiss on my lips. Pulling back, he headed toward the front door allowing me to admire his backside, just as I had that first night all those months ago. He glanced over his shoulder, a brilliant smile on his face. “I love you, Mrs. Burnham.”

“And I love you, Mr. Burnham.”

He winked and disappeared outside, leaving me alone with just my thoughts and the background sound of Christmas carols. I lost myself in Charlie’s words once more, flipping through the pages, as if I was desperate to find out the anticipated ending of some spellbinding story. However, I already knew how the tale would end. This wasn’t about that. It was about keeping a piece of Charlie with me.

My phone buzzed, tearing me away from Charlie’s words for the first time in what seemed like hours. I saw a text from Jenna saying she was leaving the restaurant in about ten minutes. I replied, asking if we could just get together at her place instead and she agreed.

Reluctantly, I pried myself away from Charlie’s journals and grabbed my bag, leaving the house. The air was crisp and a bit cool, a nice breeze coming in from the ocean. Taking a calming breath of the salty sea air, I jumped into the SUV and turned toward the main strip of South Padre. It was relatively quiet for just a few weeks before Christmas. Soon, I knew I would treasure the tranquility, especially once Triple B decided to make his entrance into the world.

As I sat at a stoplight, I thought how I’d soon be saying goodbye to this town and starting my new life in Boston. It was bittersweet, but it was fitting that Tyler and I were set to start over again somewhere far away from here. I didn’t want our son around any of the troubles of my past. He needed a clean start just as much as I did.

I was still lost in my thoughts as I parked my car in the lot of Richard’s hotel and strolled through the lobby. It was adorned with stunning Christmas decorations, a thirty-foot tree filling the large atrium-like space. A pianist sat by the tree, playing Christmas carols, and vacationers came and went…some in shorts and flip-flops, others in long pants and sweatshirts.

Smiling at a group of tourists, I entered the elevator and took it all the way to the top floor. Exiting when it came to a stop, I walked down the long corridor and approached the door to Richard’s and Jenna’s condo. As I was about to knock, I noticed it was slightly ajar. It could have been nothing, but after recent events, I no longer believed in coincidences.

“Hello?” I yelled out, knocking on the opened door. I waited for an answer but none came. Alarm bells went off, but my curiosity got the better of me, driving me forward when everything else told me to turn back and go home.

Retrieving the pistol from my purse and chambering a round, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Jenna? Are you in here? It’s Mack.”

Still no answer. Their condo appeared as it always had. The living room was practically immaculate with a beautifully decorated tree just in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Walking further into the condo, my weapon at my side, I noticed Jenna’s purse sitting on the kitchen island, the contents spilled as if she had been looking for something rather hastily.

“Jenna?” I called out again. Tiptoeing down the corridor off the living room to see if she was in her office, I halted in my steps when I heard an angry voice speaking in a foreign language. It sounded Russian, but I couldn’t be sure.

Frozen in place, I didn’t realize when the conversation had ended…until a light flooded the hallway and I snapped my head up, trying to make sense of why this person I thought I knew had a gun aimed at me.

With shaky hands, I raised my own weapon. Before I could get off a shot, I felt a sharp pain in my head and my world went dark.

Tyler

I SAT IN THE OFFICE of the club, anxiously waiting for Eli to show up. He had said he was on his way from Brownsville with what he thought was a possible connection between Galloway and this Boris Ranko, who had tried to blow us up. I prayed it was one that would finally put an end to all of this. The more time that passed without any new information, the more uneasy I became that everything would fall out from underneath me. I needed answers, and I needed them now.

Focusing on my laptop, my eyes glossed over the massive amount of information we had accumulated since the beginning of this case over a year ago. I tried to separate what I knew to be fact from what I knew was clearly fiction. Unfortunately, what I knew to be true and backed up by physical evidence was lacking. For the most part, all we had was one person’s story against another’s, all of it contradictory. The little physical evidence we did have, from an FBI agent I still wasn’t sure was reliable, supported a story I didn’t necessarily want to believe, although it was the theory I had bought into when I first began to work this assignment. Now, I wasn’t so sure. All I did know was that I desperately needed answers, and I hoped Eli would give me some when he got here.

A figure standing in the doorway caught my attention and I swung my head up, trying to hide my surprise.

“Francis…,” I muttered under my breath, confused about what he was doing here, particularly now that the FBI seemed to know of his existence and had plastered his face all over the national news. I quickly ushered him into my office, hoping none of my staff members had arrived for their shift just yet, and closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in a low voice as I gestured for him to have a seat across from my desk.

He briefly closed his eyes as he dropped into the chair. “Saying goodbye.” There was something different about his demeanor. He was no longer the collected former army colonel I had grown to know over the past few months or so. His eyes were dull, his expression blank. His stature was slumped, no longer exhibiting the confidence I saw in him when he nonchalantly strolled into my hospital room as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I could tell this was it. He was finally giving up.

“What do you mean?”

“I know it may not make sense, but I can’t go on like this anymore, not now that the FBI has decided to broadcast my face and identity across the country. If I don’t do this, they’ll never leave Serafina alone. I’m doing this for her.”

“Doing what?” I demanded.

“I contacted Agent Suarez of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I understand you’ve had the pleasure of meeting him recently.”

I nodded.

“I’ve agreed to surrender myself into his custody, effective this afternoon.”

“Francis, you can’t–”

He held up his hand. “I understand the ramifications of what I’m doing. I don’t need you to lecture me about it.”

“But what about Mackenzie?” I urged, my voice growing louder.

“I’m doing this for her. She’s the only reason I’m doing this!” he insisted, the life and passion returning to him as his eyes lit on fire. “To save her from a life of always having to look over her shoulder, never knowing when something I’ve done will come back to haunt her. By doing this, I can take full responsibility for everything, and finally let Serafina live the life she’s been meant to live!” He paused, looking past me at a photograph sitting on a small chest. I followed his line of sight to see him gazing affectionately at a framed picture of the two of us kissing on the beach just after we were married.

“There has to be another–”

“By doing this,” he interrupted, his voice barely audible, “she can finally forget about me, like she should have all those years ago.”

“Did you go see her?” I asked.

Meeting my eyes, he shook his head slowly, remaining silent.

“Why not?!” My body tensed as I struggled to maintain my temper. I had trouble wrapping my head around what I was hearing. “You’re just going to turn yourself in and not even do the decent thing and tell your own daughter about it?!”

“I am doing the decent thing,” he replied harshly, slamming his fist on the desk. “I’ve been sick with this decision since I heard about how she had been interrogated regarding Charlie’s murder! I knew I’d have to do this without saying goodbye. It’s the only way to save her from any more heartache!”

“You left once without telling her!” I bellowed out. “For years, she was convinced you were dead! And now, when it appears as if you are the monster you swore you weren’t, you just get to cut your losses and walk away?! Without giving her an explanation?! What about the rest of us who have agreed to stand by your side and put our own necks on the line, regardless of what the physical evidence actually says?!”

“Cut my losses?!” he shouted, his face flaming red, his nostrils flaring as he jumped up from his chair. His face was mere inches from mine, both of our breathing intense. “I’m losing everything by this decision, but I don’t care! By doing this, I’m giving Serafina her life back! A life that was better without me in it in the first place! But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to tarnish the few memories of me she has left! And I don’t want her last one to be of me saying goodbye!”

He took a protracted breath and ran his hand over his face. Pulling back, he turned his gaze away from mine. His chin quivered as he struggled to fight back the tears that had formed in his eyes. “I want her to remember her father, the man who would do anything for her…not her father, the criminal. And I want my last memory of her to be one of joy, of smiles…not of tears and sorrow. Please, Tyler, I beg you to understand.”

“But she’ll want to see you,” I said, lowering my voice. “Even after you turn yourself in, do you think she won’t do everything she can to visit you?”

“She can’t. Please, keep her away. I can’t bear the thought of my little girl seeing me locked up in some prison. She doesn’t belong there. I can’t put her through that.”

“You’re her family,” I offered, grasping at straws. “The only family she has left.”

He shook his head and began to retreat toward the door. I wanted to stop him, to figure out some way to prove he wasn’t the man the world, maybe even he, thought he was.

“I’m not her family. Maybe I was once upon a time, but not anymore. She has a new family now, but she’ll never be able to enjoy that new family if she’s still hung up on the last.” He pulled open the door, pausing briefly. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “We will see each other again. I have faith the good Lord knows the truth and will make sure we eventually find our way back to each other.”

He disappeared, leaving me stunned. I sank back into my chair, wondering how I was not only going to tell Mackenzie that her father had turned himself in, but also how I was going to keep her from visiting him. I knew it was impossible. Mackenzie was one of the most stubborn women I’d ever met, and she would do everything she could to see her father. I could just picture her eyes when she went to wherever he was being held to visit and he refused to see her. I hated to admit it, but I understood. If I were in his shoes, I would have done the same thing for the exact same reasons.

“I’ve got something.” Eli came barreling into the office, breathless, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“What is it?” I waved him in, trying to adjust my composure so he couldn’t see I was unnerved.

“Boris Ranko… I tracked him down. He was up in Brownsville, which I found to be suspicious, considering how close it is to us. Anyway, I did a bit of research on him and found out he’s not exactly a Serbian drug runner anymore. He was, but fell out of his boss’ good graces. Seeing as he’s not here legally, I may have threatened deportation. Once I did that, he began to sing like a fucking canary in a coal mine.” He leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“What did you find out?” I asked, on the edge of my seat.

“Viktor Popovic… That’s our man.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “It can’t be. I heard Galloway’s story about what happened in Bosnia. He said Viktor and his wife both died the night they tried to rescue her.”

Eli shook his head, his smile growing wider. “It appears he didn’t. Yes, he was shot, but he survived. Several months later, Popovic entered the United States and was granted asylum. After that, he disappeared. No credit cards. No bank accounts. Nothing.”

“So he’s still alive?”

Eli nodded. “Ranko insisted he was, said he was supposed to meet him at an address in South Padre later this afternoon. I tried to see if Popovic changed his name when he arrived here and that’s why I couldn’t find any information about him when I ran it, but Ranko insisted his name was Viktor.”

“And where is Ranko now?”

“Handcuffed in the back of the car.”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I wish there was something more. This doesn’t really prove anything. It’s just another piece in this convoluted puzzle that keeps getting bigger and more confusing the deeper we dig. We still have nothing conclusive to prove that anyone other than Mackenzie’s father was responsible for everything. Hell, I don’t even see a motive for this Viktor to want to set Galloway up!”

“I do,” Eli insisted.

“What?”

“Revenge.”

“I don’t know,” I said, getting up and pacing my office. “It’s a stretch. Do you have a photo of what this Viktor looks like so we know who we’re dealing with?”

He scrolled through his cell phone. “The only photo was from when he first came here nearly thirty years ago, so you’ll need to use your imagination and picture him as a man in his fifties.”

I took the phone from him and scanned the grainy photo from the immigration database, imagining what this man would look like after having aged several decades. He had dark hair and gray eyes. They were haunting and I couldn’t help but feel as if I knew those eyes. I continued to study the photo, mentally adding a few wrinkles on his face, graying his hair…

Time stood still as the photo transitioned from a man in his twenties to one in his fifties. It all became clear and dread coursed through me.

“Fuck,” I hissed, shoving Eli’s phone back at him.

“What is it?” he yelled after me as I ran out of the office.

“I know exactly who that is!” I responded, my phone up to my ear, anxious for Mackenzie to pick up.