The Dysfunctional Mob – Part 22

No Good Deed

Most people looked at my life and thought it would be better suited for someone with a lot of Karma to burn off.  I’m not sure I would disagree with them, however, what I did in my previous lives to deserve this was something of a mystery.  Unless I was burning off the Karma for every person in my family that had ever done wrong to another person, which meant I would need multiple lives to burn it all off.

Especially considering my father had been an asshole of the tallest order.  One of the things Ivan had discovered upon joining the police force was that my father had not been well liked and pretty much everyone had thought he was on the take and that he might also have planted evidence in a few cases.  Including the case of Eric Clachan, Aislinn’s brother.  Luckily for the police, my father had died shortly after that investigation closed itself because Eric made a full confession to the FBI about it or as full as it was going to be considering he was Eric and was still holding cards.  Of that everyone was sure, what those cards were, now that was something that could only be speculated on.  Someone had once tried to hire Alex’s private detective agency to try and connect him to other murders.  Alex had noped right out of that meeting, because she had been sure that investigating Eric would result in finding evidence against my father, her uncle, planting evidence at crime scenes to make it look like Eric had done other murders than finding real evidence that Eric had killed other people. 

Besides, we were all pretty sure that if Eric had killed more people, he would have just told everyone about it.  He had plead guilty to every murder he had ever been charged with, including murders inside The Fortress and in other prisons where he’d been held over the years before the Fortress.  Murders that his lawyer probably could have gotten dismissed as self-defense, Eric had gone ahead and plead guilty to.  He was serving a ridiculous amount of time, it wasn’t one or two life sentences at this point, it was like twenty of them.  Yeah it had been better for Alex to decide not to take the case.  Somethings just weren’t worth doing for any amount of money.

Since my father had supposedly died a hero’s death, the department had given my mother a sizeable amount for his death even if he was hated by her, the department, his children, his extended family, their extended family, and probably their extended families.  I was fairly sure everyone who knew my father had hated him to a significant degree.  He was worth hating and not just for what he did to his wife and children but because he was like that to everyone who ever crossed paths with him. 

I had some memories of him complaining about the families of murder victims before he died and about how they didn’t understand how the system worked and he didn’t need them calling him every day to remind him that their loved one had been killed and he could do his job just fine without any help from them, ever.  He even hated murder victims, saying the majority of them deserved it.

He had been cold, unsympathetic, and unrealistic, I wasn’t surprised he had been murdered, I was surprised it had taken that long for someone to get around to it.  I half expected the detective’s in his division to kill him every day at work and blame it on some random intruder they hadn’t caught.  They probably could have gotten away with it, because that was before the SKMM laws went into effect, so serial killers were marched through police stations like regular people. 

“You do not look at all happy,” Zeke told me.

“I was thinking about my father.”

“Ah, yes,” he said quietly, pulling me into him.  My father would have hated Zeke and everything about Zeke.  Mostly because my father expected the weak to be preyed upon by those who were stronger and considered it a weakness to not prey on others.  In other words, since Zeke didn’t regularly beat me like a husband should do a wife to make sure she stays in her place, my father would have considered Zeke weak.

My mother had sent me to therapy after my father died, not to help me grieve, but to help me learn not to be a victim, no matter how much I loved a man.  It had worked, and I hadn’t repeated the cycle of violence that had consumed parts of my childhood.  Of course, by then, I had Anthony, and Anthony had been fairly adept at making sure I didn’t date men that were heavy handed.  I couldn’t give all the credit to the therapist as Anthony had done his share.

My phone rang.  It was after midnight in Russia and no good news ever comes after Midnight.  Of course, it was still the afternoon in the US, so it was possible that whoever was calling just hadn’t thought about the time difference.  The number on the screen read 999 which meant it wasn’t good news.

“Oh boy,” I said instead of hello.

“You are such an optimist.” Apex purred over the phone.  It was hard to imagine the older man purring words out, but he could.

“I know.” I told him.  “What’s wrong?”

“It’s actually a bit of good news.  I have an idea about who the killer might be.”

“How is that good news?” I asked.

“Well, you can deliver the profile, the mob will let you leave, Alex’s sister will be fine, and you can skedaddle back to the US where you will be safer than you are in Russia.”

“You say that like I have Kidnap Me tattooed on my forehead.”

“I hear you’ve been kidnapped a lot,” Apex said.  He had a point, instead of arguing, I sighed.

“What’s the profile?”  I asked after letting the sigh draw out between the two of us.

“Profile?”  Zeke frowned at me and tried to take the phone.  “You are not chasing a serial killer.  Tell Apex to just hunt the guy down and do what he does.”

“I have to give the mob something other than money,” I reminded my husband.  “And I can’t give them Aislinn, she’s trying to find Gabriel.”

“That would be the good news, she’s found Gabriel, it’s just a matter of getting them both out.  At the moment, they are alive and mostly unharmed.  They are in a bunker in Maine, so getting out is going to be tricky, but if anyone can, it’s Aislinn.”

“Agreed, let me know when you hear more about her and Gabriel.”  I told Apex and he hung up.

“What’s going on?”  Zeke asked.

“Aislinn found Gabriel alive and if they continue to survive, they’ll probably be home before us.”  I told him.

“Well, it’s Ace, so I’m not sure what continues to survive entails, but I’m sure she’s up to it.  So, you are going to catch a serial killer in the morning.”

“Nope, I’m going to tell the mob how to catch a serial killer.”  My phone went off and Zeke looked at the text.  It was from Apex and detailed what was going on with the serial killer.  The information I was supposed to relay to the mob no doubt.

“You know that he will probably be tortured and killed, right?”  Zeke asked.

All rights reserved.  Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction.  Any names, places, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are purely fictitious.  Any resemblances to any persons, living or dead, are completely coincidental.

Copyright © Hadena James 2016

All Rights Reserved

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