“We found the note and pictures you received from Julie. You know,” Tom continued, “the one where she said ‘I know who you really are.’ That plus the pictures of you with Nicky Wayne has everyone in Kenner City convinced you’re one of the bad guys. You need to turn yourself in and straighten out this mess.”
After two months, Ben had almost forgotten the package’s other contents besides the medal. Now he recalled the note and pictures Julie had sent, her abbreviated message flashing through his memory. Ben stifled a groan. He could understand how easily her words could have been misinterpreted.
But Ben wasn’t going to turn himself in, not with so much at stake. “To hell with everyone else. I need to find Ava. Where is she?” So the FBI even thought he was crooked. That hurt. A lot. He guessed he’d been a little too successful at his undercover role. But he had bigger dragons to slay than a mucked up reputation.
“Look, buddy, you need to come back to Kenner City and talk to the powers that be. It’s the only way they’ll stop painting you as an insider in a crime ring. We’re pretty sure Boyd Perkins killed Julie, but there are those who think you might have orchestrated Julie’s death and the hit on Del Gardo.”
“Why do you only think it? Why not pull Perkins in for questioning?”
“Boyd Perkins died in a standoff before we could get a confession and you haven’t been around to confirm or deny anything.”
Ben nodded even though Tom couldn’t see him. At least one nasty character wouldn’t be plaguing the earth anymore. “I’m not coming in until I find Ava. Either you tell me where she is or I’ll hang up and find her myself.”
“All right, keep your shirt on.” Tom sighed into his ear. “Ava took a leave of absence and left town.”
Ben’s fingers tightened on the phone until he thought for sure the plastic would crack under the pressure. “Where’d she go?”
“After you disappeared, your house became a crime scene, with you a prime suspect. The stress eventually got to Ava and made her go into premature labor. She had to take off or risk delivering too soon. She’s at her sister Emily’s house in Vegas.”
Ben closed his eyes and fought a wave of hunger, fear and relief that threatened to make him nauseous. Ava was in Vegas. Close to him but even closer to Nicky Wayne.
“Ben? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, I need money, identification and a vehicle I can count on.”
“You know I can’t give you those things without becoming an accomplice.”
“If not for me, then do it for Ava and my child. I won’t let Nicky get his filthy hands on her.” Not after all the pain and agony he’d inflicted on Ben.
A long pause stretched the silence between them, then Tom sighed. “I’ll have someone out there within two hours. How will I be able to contact you?”
Voices echoed in the hall outside the locked office door. Someone tested the handle.
Ben ducked low in case they broke the door down or used a key. “You still have the same cell number?” he whispered into the phone.
“Yes.”
“I’ll contact you.”
“I really wish you’d turn yourself in, man.”
“I can’t. Ava’s in danger. I’ll fill you in when I’m sure she’s all right.”
“If this is the way you want to play it, I’ll get the money and the car to you within the next few hours.”
Ben didn’t risk a response. Instead, he set the phone back in its cradle and waited for Wayne’s people to break down the door or move on. He had to find a way to Emily’s house and get there before Nicky Wayne found Ava.
Ava paced the length of her sister Emily’s living room, staring out at the tops of the Las Vegas high-rise casinos in the distance. Neon lights lit the night sky like Christmas on steroids, yet the bright colors and blare of traffic did nothing to lift Ava’s spirits.
Emily perched on the arm of her bomber-jacket-brown leather couch, a crease marring her elegant brow. “I wish you’d sit and take a load off your feet. You’re making me tired just watching you.”
With a wobbling about-face, Ava made another pass across the room. “I shouldn’t have taken time off. I’m not used to inactivity.”
“Maybe not, but you’d better rest while you can. After that baby comes, you won’t get a decent night’s sleep.”
Ava ran a hand over her swollen belly, trying to imagine holding the baby in her arms at last. With another month stretching before her like a slow-motion film, she couldn’t stand the thought of spending it twiddling her thumbs or crocheting baby booties. Sorry kid, I’m not that maternal. “I should have stayed in Kenner City.”
“Coulda, shoulda, woulda, good grief, sis. You couldn’t stay in your house and you know it.” Emily was the older sister, and she had a blunt way of telling it like it was, no holding back, no skirting the issue. “If Ben hadn’t run off like the criminal he is, you wouldn’t be here moaning about nothing to do. You’d be painting the baby room and picking out infant furniture together. That is, assuming Ben isn’t guilty like they say he is.”
“Much as I’m sure you’d like him to be guilty and out of my life, Ben didn’t kill Julie Grainger.” She was absolutely certain of that. What she wasn’t so certain of was his affiliation with the Wayne organization and the hit on Vincent Del Gardo. Hadn’t he reported to Jerry Ortiz all this time? And Jerry had been a dirty agent. Did that make Ben a dirty agent? Guilt by association? Jerry had died trying his best to kill Ava for the medal she had in her possession. “Ben, Tom, Julie and Dylan were close friends. He wouldn’t have killed her.”
“Maybe so, but what do you really know about Ben? He could be up to his neck in crime with Nicky Wayne. There’s the note from Julie and the pictures of him with the Wayne organization. The evidence is pretty strong against him.” Emily leaned forward. “He’s lied to you in so many ways, I don’t see how you can defend him now.”
Ava didn’t have a comeback. Ben had lied and hidden things from her from the get-go. And she’d chosen to believe in him anyway. Call it love, call it blind faith. Call it stupidity. Now she was eight months pregnant, Ben was missing, possibly dead and Ava faced a life of raising their baby alone. Her baby would never know her father.
Damn you, Ben! Tears welled in her eyes as she pictured her daughter at five or six years old asking about her father. What would she tell her? Your father was an FBI agent who defected to one of the most notorious crime organizations of the century. Live with that, why don’t you?
“No.” Ava clenched her fist, refusing to believe what others were so quick to grasp on to. “Ben didn’t kill Julie, nor did he have her killed by Boyd Perkins. And I just can’t believe he’s guilty of going bad and working for Nicky Wayne like Ortiz did.” He just couldn’t be a member of the Wayne organization. So what if Julie’s cryptic note and pictures alluded to a more nefarious life. The note could have meant something else entirely.
All of the evidence so far was supposition and conjecture. As a member of the Kenner County Crime Unit, Ava wouldn’t convict him on circumstantial evidence that could be explained away with one interview with the suspect. Even when the evidence had cut her to the core.
Ben hadn’t told her about his activities. Seeing pictures of him with the Wayne organization had been devastating. It was as though he had led an entirely different life than the one he’d had with her. Seeing her husband in those pictures reminded her that she didn’t really know him. The strain of that realization