Betrayed (A CORE Sector Novel Book 1) Read online

  He pulled into his driveway fifteen minutes later to find Gavin Daniels standing on his front porch, "Gavin? What can I do for you?" He asked as he got out of his car.

  Gavin swung around, "Oh, Alec, I didn't know when you'd be home. I just rang the bell." He eased down the steps, wiped the sweat from his palms before extending his hand, "I also needed to speak with you."

  Alec walked by him and stood on the top step, "How did you get my address?"

  The paunchy older man shuffled his feet as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "Bryce. Uh, Bryce gave it to me since we need to talk about some financial matters and things have been in a bit of an uproar around the office."

  "Ah, you didn't mention this at the meeting." Alec said as he sat down on the top step.

  "No. I didn't think it appropriate, considering." He trailed off as he looked down again, "It's a bit chilly out, don't you think?"

  "Yeah, think it'll be an early winter." He should offer to take the man inside where it was warm, but he wasn't sure. Something in his behavior didn't seem right.

  "I have a dinner date, Gavin. Can we do this tomorrow?"

  Gavin looked aggravated, "Sure, Alec. I wasn't thinking. I forget you young guys like to get out on the town and have a social life. I'll catch up with you tomorrow. Goodnight." He turned and hurried to his car before Alec could say anything.

  ALEC WENT INSIDE. He didn't have any plans, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he'd gotten. Gavin had never acted strange before, but with the way things were going lately, Alec wasn't real sure who he could trust anymore. He hated having these suspicions, but as Bryce told him, you can never be too careful. Money and power does strange things to people, so does lack of money and power. Your own mother could turn on you if the circumstances were right.

  He went to the den, poured himself a good sized brandy and kicked back in his easy chair. He needed to think and this was always his best spot for working things out. He wondered if he should call Bryce and tell him what had happened, but decided he didn't want to trouble Bryce with any more than he already had on his mind. Bryce wasn't necessarily a worrier, but lately he'd been a lot more concerned about things around the office.

  Alec woke in the early morning hours, still sitting in his chair and still holding his empty glass. The uneasy feeling crept back in as he sat there wondering what time he fell asleep, and how he could have dozed off so easily. He was somewhat of an insomniac and it normally took two drinks to get him sleepy. He got up, sat his glass down and walked to the window. As he stood there lost in his own mind, he thought he saw movement across the street. Strange for this hour, his street was normally quiet as mostly elderly residents lived there. He turned to where the movement had caught his eye. It was a willow tree in the neighbor's yard. There wasn't much of a breeze, but some of the branches were swaying more than he thought they should. He scanned up and down the street a time or two before he decided he was just paranoid. Maybe his earlier drink had gotten him a little more drunk than he thought. He decided he'd have another and then head to bed and worry with it tomorrow. There wasn't much he could do in the night anyway.

  ALEC AWOKE with a jerk the next morning. He fumbled for his clock to check the time. It was 9:00 in the morning; he hadn't slept past 6:30 since he was a teenager. What the heck was going on? He got up, called in to let Bryce know he was running late and grabbed the bottle of brandy on his way out the door. Something wasn't right and he knew the brandy had to be the culprit.

  He arrived at the office just past ten in the morning. Bryce was coming out of a meeting and didn't look pleased at all. Alec followed him into his office and shut the door. Bryce turned to the younger man with a perplexed look on his face, "Alec, what's wrong? What's happened?"

  Alec sat down in one of the chairs and set the bottle of brandy on the desk. "Alec, it's too early in the morning for a drink." Bryce said.

  "No, I'm not offering you a drink. I think someone did something to it."

  "Explain, Alec."

  Alec laid out how Gavin was at his house when he got home, how he was acting and how after one drink he passed out and slept for hours. He then told him about the movement he thought he saw, and how the second drink had really knocked him out.

  "Alec, I've never told anyone where you live. I keep certain things secret from the rest of the group and that's one of them. Nor do I tell you things about them, like where they live."

  "So, the question is, how did Gavin find out where I live?"

  "A better question is what the hell was he doing there?"

  "You think he got inside and did something to my bottle of brandy?"

  "I don't know, but I'll send it in for testing. We'll find out." Bryce sat down behind his desk, "In the meantime, get rid of your other drinks as well."

  "Do you think he's behind Charlotte being alive?"

  Bryce looked up, a concerned look on his face. "Could be, but keep it to yourself, for now."

  Alec shook his head as he got up and headed to his own office. He knew Bryce had warned him about being too trusting of people, but he still felt sure he could trust Bryce with his life. He'd known him since he was a little boy and the man had always stood on integrity. They were supposed to trust the whole brotherhood, but Bryce had raised some concerns lately and Alec took them to heart.

  5

  FRANK RETURNED HOME AROUND NOON, plopped his sack lunch on the counter and headed to his den to set up at his desk. He glanced over at his phone and noticed his answering machine was blinking--a rare occurrence, but one he usually dreaded.

  Frank pushed play while opening the file on his computer. "Hey Frank, if you're there pick up the phone. This is urgent. I can't reach you on your cell phone, it must be turned off." Frank recognized Jon Scott's voice, his old partner from D. C. Metro. He hadn't heard from Jon in quite awhile. The sound of his voice told him he should return the call. Frank dialed the number and asked dispatch to patch him through to Jon's extension. "This is detective Jon Scott."

  "I've been receiving harassing phone calls. Can you help me out?"

  "Frank, good to hear your voice buddy. Is everything okay there?"

  "Things are great. Nice and quiet, just the way I like it." There was a silence on the other end of the line. Frank sighed, "Okay, Jon, what's this about? You obviously didn't call to take me on a date."

  "You hurt me Frank. You think all I ever call about is business or police work?"

  "I know you too well, my friend, you live the job, just like I did. So let's get to it. What's going on?"

  Jon cleared his throat, "You remember Gabe Lawler? The guy we busted about ten years ago? He's up in Petersburg Federal Prison."

  "Yeah, I remember, we shut down his drug dealing after that kid died."

  "Well it shut down a lot of things. It looks like he was connected to the Accardi family out of New York, but we haven’t found any solid proof. Anyway, he swore he'd get you one day."

  "So what else is new? They all swore that."

  "He's asking to see you. He's had his lawyer contact us."

  "You know this is a bullshit story, Jon. Wasn’t his last appeal denied?"

  "Yeah, but he’s up for another one, and according to his lawyer, he might have a chance this time. Lawyer says he’s been the model inmate."

  "Lawyer and good behavior? The two words don’t really go together Jon." Frank said with a laugh.

  "I know, but he says you'll be in big trouble if you don't pay him a visit."

  "What's he going to do from prison, Jon?"

  "Hey buddy, you know those guys still have contacts on the outside more than happy to do their bidding."

  "True, but I’m not too worried about it."

  "Maybe you should go see him and find out what it's all about."

  Frank took in a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to deal with was some old convict he'd put away years ago. "I don't have time for this Jon. I've got work to do and I don't intend to spend three days on the road to visi
t a convict who may or may not have it in for me. I told you, police work isn't my job anymore."

  "Frank, the guy sounds serious. I'd normally blow it off too, but this could be important, especially if he does get parole in a few weeks."

  Frank sighed, "I'll think on it Jon, but no promises. It's probably all bullshit anyway. Look man, I'm in the middle of something. I'll call you in a few days." Frank hung up. It was rude, but he didn't want to deal with police work. The closest he ever wanted to get again was in his novels.

  FRANK UNPLUGGED the phone and stared at the open file for a long time. He didn't want to think about Gabe Lawler or Jon's phone call, but there it was, stuck in his head. Last night he had the dream again, after months of not even thinking about it. Now, more from his past was trying to come back to haunt him. Ignore it. That had become his new motto unless it involved writing. He had no concerns of his old police work unless it related to something Frenchie, his fictional detective, could take care of.

  Frank fixed his second drink and began pounding on the keyboard furiously, determined to get the words out of his head and forget the events of the day. He didn't have time to deal with past issues or criminals, nor did he want to. Maybe he was living in denial after all these years, but he left the force and vowed never to turn back.

  6

  THE DANK PRISON walls reverberated with the shrill sound of Gabe Lawler's demands. His lawyer had been summoned, but Gabe appeared unwilling to wait for counsel.

  "You're not hearing me!" he yelled, again. "Someone better get Temple on the horn or he'll be sorry."

  The guards standing to either side of the table where Lawler was shackled smirked to each other. Lawler was serving a fifteen year sentence for drug running and minor arms deals. The death of a kid hung over his head, but he’d never been implicated in the accident. He didn't look like much of a threat now in his orange jumpsuit and shower shoes.

  "Simmer down, Lawler," one warned. "Someone will take your statement shortly."

  Gabe sat in silent fury and frustration. The letter in his hands couldn't be more clear. It looked like a normal piece of correspondence, but he knew what it really meant. He knew they'd never listen to him about the drug charges or that kid’s death, but if someone didn't listen to him very damn soon, a lot of people would be sorry.

  "Lawler's attorney is here," a male officer said from the hallway outside the holding cell.

  "About damn time," Gabe seethed before straightening in his chair.

  Abe Harris strolled in as if he was entering a court room, greeted the guards cordially, then took a seat across from Gabe. "I've been told you have information involving Frank Temple?"

  Gabe tossed the letter across to Harris. "Read this."

  Rolling his eyes, Harris pushed the tattered note a little further away from his legal pad, as it if it were dirty. "I can't believe you brought me down here for this, Lawler. Give it up, I can’t get your appeal scheduled any sooner."

  "This isn't about an appeal, you idiot! " Gabe exploded. "Someone killed that man's entire family and thanks to you and the Prosecuting Attorney, they're still out there!"

  Harris finally picked up the letter and spent some time reading the wild scrawl. "I'm sorry, Gabe. I simply see nothing in here to substantiate your claim. This is simply a letter from your lunatic girlfriend."

  "She’s not my girlfriend and I suggest you have your blue suit cleaned, it'll look nice on you at Temple's funeral."

  Raising his glasses to his forehead, Harris rubbed his eyes. "Okay, Gabe, let's suppose I believe you. How is this going to prove anything to Temple? All it says is she has new evidence to prove your innocence and Temple could end up like his family. Besides, she's in the nut house, Gabe. Who the hell is going to believe her anyway?

  "How the hell would I know? I'm not an investigator!" Gabe exploded again, causing the two guards to step closer to him. Holding his cuffed hands still, Gabe composed himself, "Who knows, Harris. The important thing is she claims to know something."

  Nodding, Harris jotted down a few notes on his legal pad. "Since your last appeal was denied, I really have limited avenues to pursue."

  "I'm working on a motion my damn self; all I need you to do is file it. Asking for an appeal based on new evidence is a long shot and we both know it. Thank you for your help though," Gabe said, sincerity in his voice. "The motion I'm working on is for DNA testing. It still falls under the new evidence category, but the Courts are more willing to take it into consideration now days."

  "I'm not following," Harris said.

  "Read your paper, Harris. The Supreme Court released twelve convicted killers from death row in Illinois this week due to DNA evidence that wasn't available during their original trials."

  "You should have been a lawyer, Lawler," Harris said with a chuckle at the word play.

  "I should have been many things," Gabe said, "But most of all I should have been the guy who told Denise Walker to get lost five seconds after meeting her. I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for her."

  "How is DNA testing going to help you?"

  "It will prove I wasn't at that crime scene. I've done some bad things, but I had no part in that drug war where that kid was killed."

  "I'll see what I can do." He was visibly agitated and Lawler knew it was likely he wouldn't do much.

  HARRIS STOPPED by the Warden's office on his way out, "Morning, Sir."

  "You meet with our disgruntled guest on cell block D?"

  "I did. I really don't think this is anything we need to alert the authorities about. Strictly speaking, the case file on Temple's family is closed, ruled accidental, but I’ll pass it along to Temple's former partner, Jon Scott, just in case it becomes an issue later."

  "What's he claiming now?" the warden asked.

  "Supposedly that whack job of a girlfriend has some new evidence," he rolled his eyes as he held up his fingers to make quoting signs with his fingers. "Claims it wasn't an accident and she knows who did it."

  "Yeah, she's a crazy one for sure. I saw her on the news when Lawler got sent up."

  "Well, I assure you no one is going to take her serious." He paused before adding, "But Lawler has been doing his homework. He's requesting that the DNA from the crime scene is tested again."

  "What will that prove?"

  Harris rubbed his chin, "Well, if he wasn't there, none of the DNA would belong to him."

  The warden shook his head. "That would only clear him of those charges, not everything else."

  "True, but it could also prove he wasn't involved at all. That would ease a man's mind if he was innocent."

  Nodding, the warden dismissed Harris and returned to his paperwork.

  7

  FRANK AWOKE the next morning feeling more relaxed. After a good day of writing and a coffee date with Charlotte, he couldn't remember dreaming at all. It was almost the perfect morning. He realized he'd unplugged his phone so it wouldn't disturb him. He started to turn it back on, but decided it could wait until after his morning run, he didn't want anything to ruin this beautiful morning. He headed out on his normal route, listening to the birds sing and enjoying the morning dew that blanketed the landscape. He couldn't wait to meet up with Charlotte at their usual passing time. He hoped she wouldn't mind if he ran with her again this morning. As he rounded the corner, two blocks from his street, an uneasy feeling hit him in the gut. He looked around. Was he being watched? The hairs stood up on the back of his neck as an old familiar sick feeling churned inside. He picked up his pace. This was a quiet neighborhood of elderly people, so not much ever happened, but the feeling grew more intense.

  Five minutes later he was in his own home, standing with his back against the front door gasping for breath. He hadn't had a feeling like this since he retired from Metro. It was a feeling he knew all too well and didn’t want to relive it. Late nights, fast food and the whiskey he'd been hitting weren’t helping. He looked down at his hands, but couldn't stop the tremble that threatened to ove
rtake them. He took in a deep breath, double checked the lock and slid down to the floor. Sitting there with his head in his hands, he tried to figure out why now. He rolled things over in his mind. Nothing was making sense. He’d gone along time without the dreams. Now they were back and seemed to be bringing a lot more turmoil with them. He looked at his watch. Two hours he’d sat there. As he stood up he noticed the trickle of sweat that ran down his forehead. Maybe a shower would wash everything down the drain. He knew he was in denial and didn't want to deal with his past. Everything seemed to be crashing down around him.

  The hot water was just beginning to relax him when he heard a loud pounding. He turned the shower off, put on some sweats and grabbed his gun. Maybe he'd gone soft, but he wasn't stupid. He listened for the noise again. It was someone at his front door. With the force of the banging, he doubted it was one of his neighbors. He went to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was his old partner, Jon Scott. "Damn it," He cursed softly under his breath. He let out a big sigh, turned the lock and opened the door.

  Before he could get a word out, Jon was screaming in his face, "Frank, I've been trying to call you since last night. What the hell have you been doing? I thought you were dead." He grabbed Frank for a hug.

  "I unplugged my phone so I could work."

  Jon pushed him out to arm's length, "Well it was a damn great time to ignore the damned phone Frank!"

  "Calm down Jon. What's so important that I missed out on?"

  "It's Gabe Lawler."

  "Jon, I told you I don't give a damn about that. Is that all you came for?" he asked as he finally allowed Jon to come in so he could shut the door.