Jack slid over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay to go,” he whispered. “We’ve been through more crap over the years than I care to think about. The enemies we’ve made, the things we’ve seen …”
“That’s just it!” Laura cried. “I never get a break. I can’t stop thinking about it. At night, if a car slows down driving past our house I wake up. I’d feel safer sleeping under the bed and probably would if I wasn’t married. Instead, I sleep with my gun on the bedside table.”
“I understand exactly,” Jack said. “If Natasha wasn’t beside me, I’d put the pillows under my sheets and sleep in my closet with my gun in my lap.”
“Because your mattress wouldn’t stop the bullets. Yes, I’ve thought of that, too.”
“I wake up with nightmares or fighting in my sleep four or five times a week.”
“Likewise,” Laura admitted.
“Once I kicked so hard that I knocked Natasha out of bed. Another time I delivered a punch that just missed her face. I wake up immediately, but that’s no way to live.”
Laura pulled away to look at Jack. “It’s not only the fear of someone trying to kill me. It’s things you and I’ve done in the past I worry about.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“You know what I mean.” She stared at him a moment, then added, “I won’t even speak about it for fear the car is bugged. Now with Pure E doing what he did, I’m afraid. Afraid for you … and for what you might do.”
“Weren’t you listening to what I said to Rose a moment ago?”
Laura’s face darkened. “Hey — I’m not Rose. Maybe I don’t read you as well as you read me, but I’m not stupid. I know you pretty well.”
Jack swallowed. Time to change tack. “The point is, I’m not blaming you for wanting out. I was thinking the same thing myself until Pure E left that message on the wall. He threw down the gauntlet for me. I can’t back down … but you can.”
“How can I run out on you at a time like this? I … I’d feel so guilty.” She looked dismayed. “I need time to think it over. Maybe a good night’s sleep will —”
“When have we worked together that there wasn’t a time like this? The jails are releasing them faster than we can catch them. We’ll never see the end.”
Laura looked sad, then reached for her seat belt. Neither spoke for the next half-hour as Jack drove. When he pulled up to her house she turned to him. “Promise me you’re going straight home.”
“What else would I do?”
She made a face.
Jack frowned. “What I told Rose about not jeopardizing my family is true. I won’t do anything stupid. As for going home, I’m exhausted … so yes, that’s where I’m going. I’ll make a couple of phone calls on the way, but that’s all.”
“A couple of calls?”
“One to John Adams.”
“Your special agent friend with U.S. Customs in El Paso,” she noted. “What do you want him to do?”
“It’s what he’s already done,” Jack replied. “He’s getting his wife to transcribe the files on Damien he obtained from the Mexican lawyer.”
“Obtained?” Laura scoffed.
It’s better than saying Adams stole them from where they were hidden after the lawyer was tipped off that a search warrant for his office was being obtained. “The lawyer would’ve been warned if another warrant was issued,” Jack replied.
“You’ll never be able to use the files in court.”
“Not in Canada, but the U.S. is a different story. There are two boxes of files. John’s wife is Spanish, but that’s still a lot of translation. There’s no hurry on Damien, but maybe other names will pop up.”
“And your other call?”
“I want to know if I-HIT had any luck determining where Damien’s phone was when Pure E answered. I think Damien was there. Pure E’s the type who’d want to see the look on Damien’s face when I called.”
“It’s not your fault you called. I would’ve done the same thing.”
Stress and exhaustion caused Jack’s voice to sound monotone. “Tomorrow’s Friday. As soon as the morning meeting’s over, I think we should go home and take the rest of the weekend off.”
“No argument there.”
“I’ll pick you up on the way in. Right now all I want to do is get home, shower, hug my family, and go straight to bed.”
Chapter Six
As Jack drove home he called John Adams. After exchanging niceties, Adams said, “Yolanda is about halfway through the first box of records. So far they pertain to Damien Zabat’s money-laundering scheme through the phony real-estate sales.”
“Well … there’s no rush on Damien,” Jack said blandly. He then told Adams that Damien must have been murdered and that Pure E had answered Damien’s phone when Jack called to warn him.
“Those whoremongers!” Adams said.
“There’s more. I laid heat on a biker to protect an informant. It worked, but the bastards made him watch as they burned his brother and wife to death before gutting him. Then they dipped a broom in his blood and left a message on the wall for me.”
“For you? Jesus fuck!”
“So Pure E’s become my number-one target.”
“I don’t believe it,” Adams said.
Jack was confused. “What I told you is true.”
“No, not that part. I don’t believe Pure E is still alive.”
“I’m trying to do things by the book. If he dies and the club suspects I played a role in it, they’re liable to come after my family.”
After a few moments of silence Adams said, “Yeah, I hear ya.”
“So, back to the files. Did Yolanda look in the other box? I’m hoping Damien isn’t the only Canadian mentioned.”
“You’re in luck there. There are two other Canucks.”
Bingo.
“The lawyer dealing with Damien was Francesco Lopez. Yolanda skimmed through the file folders in the second box. They actually belong to another lawyer by the name of Miguel Herrero. His office is in the same building as Lopez.”
Oh, please, let it be, let it be….
“She hasn’t had time to read those files yet,” Adams continued. “I told her that Damien was the priority. She said, though, from what she did see, the second box pertained to a Lance Morgan —”
Yes!
“— and a Jake Yadamenko, or some name like that. I’m just going by memory, but it —”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“You havin’ an orgasm, Jack?”
“Lance Morgan is president of the Westside chapter of Satans Wrath in Vancouver.” Jack couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “Jake Yevdokymenko is pres-ident of the Eastside chapter and goes by the nickname of Whiskey Jake. Getting something on either of those two would be fantastic.”
“Whiskey Jake,” Adams repeated. “Good. Helluva lot easier to remember.”
“He’s left-handed, so occasionally