Angelina Bonaparte Mysteries Box Set by Nanci Rathbun (surface ebook reader TXT) 📗

knew where to find Hank, and it seemed to me that the only way that could be possible is if they were following your lead.”

Oh, hell. My heart sank. “You think I had a tail.”

“No, I think you have a hidden GPS device somewhere on the vehicle.” He took a drink of coffee. “Unless there’s a possibility of a leak. Who knew about the east coast connection?”

“Marcy, of course, but she just found out about it yesterday. She still loves the guy. I can’t believe she’d share the information. But there’s another possibility.” I looked down into the depths of my coffee cup. “Or maybe two. I wanted to explore the option of reconciliation, to see if Hank could resume a normal life. So I paid a call on Bart Matthews, being careful to phrase the idea in strictly theoretical terms, with no details that would expose Hank. Bart’s rather emphatic advice was to walk away as fast as I could, but he also suggested that if I found that impossible, maybe my dad would broker a meeting.”

Tim gave a little start.

“My father has Family connections,” I told him. “But he was unwilling. That’s when I decided to contact Hank, to suggest the Witness Protection Program. He refused, saying that it couldn’t guarantee his safety and might expose Marcy and the kids to danger.” My hand shook slightly when I raised the cup. “Theoretically, Bart or my father could have taken the story to the South Philly Mob.”

The idea sickened me, but I had to be realistic. Somehow, the word got out. Somebody knew about my connection to Hank and used it to get to him. I needed to close the circle, for the sake of Marcy and the kids.

Chapter 24

Three things cannot long be hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth. — Confucius

We agreed that the fewer of us involved with the police, the better. Tiny Tim and Bobbie left, while Bram and Spider plotted our next moves. We would drop Spider at the farmhouse, where Bram would pick up his own vehicle and then take me back to my condo. There, I would call the police, using shock as a reason for the delayed report. Not wanting my home invaded by cops, especially if one of them turned out to be Wukowski, I said, “Let’s go to my office, Bram. I’ll feel more in control there, and it will give me a chance to go through my files and remove anything I don’t want the police to see.”

“Your drive downtown will give me time to access any security cameras in the vicinity of Holy Hill and delete whatever might involve me, Tim or Bobbie,” Spider said.

By now, I was used to Spider’s superhero computer skills. His statement didn’t faze me.

***

Bram used his special ops skills to unlock my office door. Inside, I flung my jacket on the coat tree, told Bram, “Back in a minute,” and rushed down the hallway to the bathroom. I caught sight of myself in the mirror over the sink and grimaced. It wouldn’t do to fix myself up, though. The police would expect a woman in a state of disrepair, given the circumstances. I wet my fingers and ran them through my hair to reinstate the spikes a bit, and went back to the office.

Bram had picked the locks on my credenza and desk, and was perusing the papers in the file marked ‘Wagner, Marcy.’ “I figured your inside keys were still in the trunk of the car, too,” he said.

“Right. Uh, thanks?”

He gave a slight grin. “Not much in here that’s current. Nothing at all on the nursing home raid. I think it’s okay to make the call. But first, how much do you want to tell the police?”

That gave me pause. “They’ll make the connection to Severson through fingerprints, same as Spider, right?”

“No doubt. But they won’t connect to the Stevens Point identities unless you provide them. Is that what you want?”

“It seems … unnecessary, somehow. None of that matters. It was just Hank’s way of hiding out. I’m the one who put him into the path of danger. Before that, he was safe.”

“You’re probably right. But I learned the hard way that dwelling on what you did in good conscience is counterproductive. For now, you need to decide what to say about your involvement.”

“Okay,” I said, “here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll tell them about my search for Hank, and how I found the obit online. I’ll explain that I talked to the lawyer who drafted the will and paid for the obituary and say that he had Hank’s email address.” I pictured Jamieson. “If they contact the lawyer in the Point, he’ll probably tell them about the shelter. But I’ll make no mention of it. I’ll simply tell them that I emailed Hank and he responded. We agreed to meet at Holy Hill, where he told me about his connections to the Philly Mob and asked me to keep a lid on his whereabouts and protect Marcy and his kids. Before I could object, he was dead.” I looked at Bram. “What do you think?”

“It works, but just barely. Let’s hope they don’t decide to get a warrant for your computer, or talk to the attorney, since he’d have to divulge that you knew about Hank’s Beltran identity. No reason why they should, though, once they learn about his life in the Mafia.”

“I need to ask Marcy if she’ll pretend ignorance.” I sighed. “Which means I have to tell her that Hank is dead and the police will be there to talk to her. Damn, I hate to do this on the phone.” The image of Hank lying on the path, with blood on his robe, sprang up.

Bram said, “Use this phone. It won’t trace back to you or me.”

Marcy answered quickly. “Yes?”

“It’s Angie, Marcy. I have some terrible news to share. I wouldn’t do it this way, but the police will be at my office soon and