Page 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Interesting group of people we’ve been talking to,” I said once we were back inside the Tahoe. “They certainly have a different way of grieving a loved one. They didn’t look like they’d even shed a tear over the loss.”

“I’m not sure she’d have been able to cry anyway,” Jack said. “Her face didn’t move the entire conversation. We need to talk to Cecelia Vasilios once she’s not medicated. I want to know about the man she saw Chloe with.”

“And I want to know who besides Dickie was on Chloe’s guest list,” I said.

“Derby left me a message,” Jack said, reading his phone. “Let me call him really quick.”

Derby answered on the first ring. “Got your info, Sheriff. I ran the check on Max Ortega like you said. He’s a retired Army Ranger and served two tours in Afghanistan. He’s got a long list of commendations.

“He went to work for Nicholas Vasilios about fifteen years ago, but it looks like he made the transition to the son about nine months ago. Nothing pops as unusual about him yet, but I can pull his financials and see if that shakes anything loose.”

“What about the ex-wife?”

“Vivica Vasilios,” Derby said. “She lives in London full-time and had a flight schedule for yesterday afternoon, but it looks like she cancelled it.”

“Probably planning to stay in town for Theo’s funeral,” Jack said. “Where’s she staying?”

“She’s got a house in Dupont Circle,” Derby said.

“Okay,” Jack said. “We’ll reach out so we can talk to her. Maybe she knows about the tattoo. Thanks, Derby.”

Jack disconnected.

“Have you been able to get the information you need on Theo yet?” I asked.

“No,” Jack said, and I could see the irritation in his eyes. “Nicholas Vasilios is using every connection he has at the State Department to block me from investigating. Not only can’t I get the information I need from them on Theo Vasilios, but I can’t even access NCIC because I’ve been flagged.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means I’m pissed off, and I’m tired of Nicholas Vasilios trying to force me to give over the investigation to someone else. It makes me wonder why he wants it out of my hands so badly. Because if he spent all that time doing research on all of us, then he knows my background and knows we won’t stop until we find the truth.”

“Maybe that’s what he’s afraid you’ll find,” I said.

“They’ll eventually have to give over the information,” he said. “But they can certainly delay us for a time. Fortunately, we have Doug. And Margot.”

“Speaking of Doug,” I said. “Wasn’t he supposed to track where Max Ortega went after he dropped off the victims?”

Jack’s brows rose as he dialed Doug, and he waited while the phone rang. And rang. “No answer.”

“Just send him a text,” I said. “Maybe he’s taking Oscar out.”

“Nobody wants to talk on the phone anymore,” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Now you sound like your mother,” I said, laughing.

Jack’s phone buzzed a couple of seconds later and he put it on speakerphone when he answered.

“What have you got for me, Doug?” Jack asked.

“Well, Oscar ate my pizza,” he said. “Pulled the whole thing off the counter and scarfed it down before I could save any of it. I had to order a whole other one. But then the pizza didn’t agree too good with Oscar, so we had a close call. And I put the kitchen rug in the washing machine, so don’t worry about that. Oscar did the rest of his business outside, but man, was it gross. Total waste of a good pizza.”

Jack had just closed his eyes as he listened to Doug, and I felt my stomach lurch at the thought of what Oscar might have in store for us later. Oscar was the ugliest and cutest dog ever, and though he was smarter than a lot of humans I knew, he was a dumpster diver at heart. When we didn’t keep an eye on him he would break into the pantry and help himself. He and Doug together were doing a lot of damage to our grocery bill.

“Sounds like you have everything under control,” Jack said.

“I’m a man of action,” he said. “Plus I aced my exam. The scores posted this morning. I keep getting job offers from different places. I mean, the money sounds good, but the jobs sound boring. Anyway, I don’t mind school so much. It’s not very challenging, but every once in a while an assignment will give me a thread for a new concept that needs to be developed. And I still want to be a cop, so I’m not sure what to do with that.”

“You’ll be an asset wherever you go,” Jack said patiently. “Doug, did you find out anything about where the car went after the Vasilios got out at the resort?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “The car was clear as day on the security footage. Black luxury sedan, Virginia plates 2361 Echo Charlie. Facial recognition confirmed Max Ortega as the driver. I pulled a deep background check on him if you need it. I had to get back into the Pentagon files to get to the good stuff. Did you know they haven’t upgraded their security since the first time I broke in? Who’s in charge of that place?”

“It’s a question many ask,” Jack said. “Go ahead and save the file. I’ll read it when I get home. Did Ortega leave the grounds?”

“Yes,” Doug said. “The car went through the guard gate three minutes after midnight, drove up to the front entrance. Ortega got out of the vehicle and opened the door for Theo, he was sitting behind the driver’s side, and the doorman came and opened the back passenger door for Chloe. The trunk was popped and the bellmen grabbed all the luggage. Chloe was carrying her purse, and she stumbled a little coming out of the car.”

“Yeah, she was over the legal limit,” Jack said.

“She looks it,” Doug said. “These are really great quality security cameras. Everything is very clear.”

“I’ll make sure to let Oliver Harris know you approve,” Jack said dryly. “Did Ortega follow them inside?”

“No,” Doug said. “He and Theo spoke a few words to each other, and then Ortega got back into the car and drove away. The vehicle left through the security gate at twelve twenty-two. I checked Ortega’s credit card receipts and he paid for a night at the Holiday Inn in King George. Their security cameras are on network so I was able to tap in and see he arrived at the hotel at one thirty.”

“Interesting,” Jack said. “Why did it take him an hour to go to a hotel that was only twenty minutes away?”

“I’ll text you his address and you can ask him in person,” Doug said. “Apparently he lives in the carriage house of Theo’s Newcastle property.”

“Why would he stay in a hotel instead of just driving home?” I asked.

“Maybe because he had to get up early,” Doug said. “He arrived back at The Mad King the next morning at seven thirty-five. I checked the flight logs at Passaqua Airport and the Vasilios private plane was scheduled to depart at nine o’clock on the morning of the murder.”

“So Ortega arrived as scheduled, but when Theo and Chloe didn’t show up he alerted Oliver Harris to ring them up?”

“It would appear so,” Doug said. “Ortega went into the resort and he and Harris are shown leaving on a golf cart together.”

“Really?” Jack asked, looking at me with brows raised. “Send me that address. We’re heading to talk to him now. You secured this line before you called me, didn’t you?”

“What am I, an amateur?” Doug asked. “Of course I did.”

“Good. We’ve been delayed again getting a deep background check on Theo Vasilios.”

“Say no more,” Doug said. “See you tonight.”

“He’ll be a really good cop one day,” I said.

“I know. It’s not a profession I would want any of my kids to go into. Doug is like Ben. There are no gray areas. There’s good and evil, and their goal is to eradicate evil by using whatever means necessary. But there’s a price to pay for any cop. There are things that can never be unseen and experiences that live in the depths of your soul until you take your last breath. And those experiences bleed onto spouses and kids. You think Ben’s kids don’t know something is going on right now? That their lives or their dad’s life is in danger?”

“You’re worried about our kids,” I said, touching his shoulder gently.

“I’m worried that I won’t be able to protect them from the kinds of things we see on a daily basis. I just want them to have a normal childhood.”

“They will,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re worried about it.”

Jack grunted and squeezed my hand and we left The Mad King for what I hoped was the last time.

* * *

The drive to Newcastle was made in silence except for the occasional rumble in my stomach. We’d had a busy morning, and hadn’t had a chance to stop for lunch.

I loved Newcastle. It was fun and trendy and artistic. The mayor had done a great job of revitalizing a place that I hadn’t thought would be able to be revitalized. There was a lot of history in Newcastle. It was the birthplace of a couple of presidents, there were several buildings that predated the Revolutionary War, and it looked like a storybook town. Not to mention tourism was booming because they’d hired a twenty-year-old to run their TikTok page and make it look like the best vacation destination ever.

The streets were cobbled and red bricked, and the businesses leaned toward art galleries and boutiques. There was a popular theater for live productions, and the bar across the street mimicked that of a 1920s speakeasy. Newcastle drew a mix of young professionals, well-off retirees, and creatives.

It was set up like a combination of both the Garden District and the French Quarter in New Orleans, and there was a public park in the center square and a wedding cake of a cathedral right in the middle of it.

We passed the park and drove down tree-lined streets of brownstones that had been built in the last decade, but looked like they’d been there for a century. Once you got past the brownstones the lots and the houses got a little larger, though not by much.

Theo Vasilios’s house was a split-level white stucco with an orange tile roof that was much more suited to Greece than Newcastle, Virginia. It was on a corner lot and there was a wrought-iron fence with brick columns that surrounded the property. I could see the carriage house at the back corner of the property.

“Nice neighborhood,” I said. “What do you think these houses cost?”

“The cheapest is probably a million at minimum,” he said. “Property values in Newcastle have skyrocketed over the last five years or so.”

Jack parked street side since the driveway was narrow, and we walked along the path that led to the carriage house. There were three bays for vehicles on the bottom level, and circular black stairs led to the upstairs living quarters.

Max Ortega was waiting for us on his balcony, dressed in gray sweats and a white T-shirt. His feet were bare, and I could see the weapon tucked in the side of his sweatpants. He’d known we were coming. Probably had security cameras all over the property.

“Max Ortega?” Jack asked, showing his badge.

“That’s me,” Max said.

“We need to ask you a few questions about Theo and Chloe Vasilios.”

There was a long pause before Max finally said, “Come on up.”

I followed Jack up the circular staircase, but I kept my eyes on Max Ortega. He didn’t look like anyone you’d want to tangle with. I was guessing he was somewhere in his early fifties. His dark hair was cut close, but there were hints of gray, and his beard was short. It was obvious he kept himself in excellent shape. His eyes were dark and studied us intently as we made our way up.

“I’m surprised you’re still on the case,” Max said. “I figured they would have brought in the State Department to shut you down by now.”

“They’re trying,” Jack said, shrugging. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Max might have smiled, but I couldn’t be sure. He didn’t look like the kind of man who smiled all that often.

“I’ve seen your file,” Max said. At Jack’s long stare Max shrugged. “I was curious if you’d be able to handle it. I’ve got connections of my own.”

“And?” Jack asked.

“You can handle it,” Max said. “They’re not going to like that. Come on inside. You want water?”

“I’ll take some,” I said before Jack could answer for me.

“This is Dr. Graves,” Jack said. “She’s the coroner for King George County.”

“Nice to meet you,” Max said, nodding in my direction.

We stepped into the kitchen, and Max opened a cabinet that I saw was a built-in pantry and took out two bottles of water. The kitchen was small, but neat with white cabinets and shiny stainless-steel appliances. There was an island with three barstools that divided it from the living room. There were two arched doorways that must have led to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Have a seat,” Max said, gesturing to a white couch with bright blue pillows.

Other than the couch, a matching chair, and a patterned rug that matched the pillows, the only other décor in the room was a large-screen TV on the wall. No pictures, no personal items, nothing that would give away anything about the man who lived here.

“We talked to Nicholas Vasilios,” Jack said. “He mentioned that you used to be his head of security.”

“Still am technically,” Max said. “Nicholas loaned me out to Theo, and hired a temp to take my place. He told me Theo needed someone to watch out for him.”

“Was Theo in danger?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know if Theo was in danger, but he didn’t always make the best life choices. I was assigned to him after he met Chloe.”

“Chloe was one of those bad life choices?” I asked.

“According to Nicholas she was,” Max said. “I liked her. She was a sweet kid who was in way over her head. And I say kid because that’s what she was. I’ve got a daughter about her age, and if she decided to marry someone old enough to be her father you wouldn’t find all the pieces of him.”

“She didn’t have anyone to look out for her,” I said.

Max sighed. “No, she didn’t.”

“What do you know about her background, where she came from?” Jack asked.

“Nothing much,” Max said. “I know someone tried to run her off the road and it scared her. She started jumping at shadows and looking over her shoulder. I figured it had to be someone from her past.”

“Max,” Jack said easily, leaning back in his chair. I recognized that look in Jack’s eyes. It was like a lion just before he was about to pounce on his prey. “You’re the third person who’s lied to me about not knowing anything about Chloe’s background. It’s starting to piss me off. And before you say anything, if you read my file then you know I will find out.”

Max stared at Jack, his arms crossed over his chest. Finally he let out a sigh and said, “This whole thing is a mess. All I can tell you is that there’s a reason Theo took Chloe in under his wing, and it wasn’t because they were romantically interested in each other. Theo had once been in the same predicament that Chloe was in, trying to escape his past and get his life back. But not everyone has Nicholas Vasilios to come to the rescue with his checkbook like Theo did. Theo was lucky.”

“So Theo felt sorry for her and offered to marry her?” Jack asked. “Why didn’t he just pay off whoever was trying to get to her?”

“I think he tried,” Max said. “I don’t know the details. All I know is that Theo left town to make a deal for Chloe and some guy shows up at the house while he’s gone. Theo left me here to keep watch, and this guy walks up to the front door and rings the bell. I saw him on the cameras. So I get my weapon and let myself in the back door of the house. Chloe had just gotten out of the shower and was in her robe. She didn’t let him in the house, but whatever he said spooked her.”

“You didn’t hear what he said?” Jack asked.

“No,” he said. “She was pale and shaking, and of course Theo’s mother comes marching up seconds after the guy says his piece and leaves. But I didn’t recognize the guy and she wouldn’t tell me what he said or if he threatened her.”

“What’d he look like?” Jack asked.

“Mid to late twenties. Clean cut. Mixed race. Jeans and a T-shirt. I couldn’t see a car, so I don’t know what he was driving. He took off on foot toward the park and disappeared.”

“You ever see this guy around?” Jack asked, holding out his phone so Max could see the picture on it.

“Sure,” Max said. “Dickie Harlowe. I ran a background on him early on. Chloe was pretty stuck on him.”

“Yet she married Theo,” Jack said.

“Because he could protect her,” Max said. “That Dickie guy cared a lot about Chloe, and I think Chloe really loved him, but he’s kind of a mess. Drinks too much. I think she knew at the end of the day he wouldn’t be reliable. Chloe and Theo had an arrangement. She stayed in a separate suite in the house. She had her own space. Theirs wasn’t exactly a love match.”

“What about sex?” Jack asked.

Max shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Everyone’s got needs, and they were going to be husband and wife. But I never saw them touch or flirt with each other. They were friends.”

“Did Theo know about Dickie?”

“Sure,” Max said. “It didn’t bother him. He wasn’t in love with her. And he always had companionship whenever he wanted it, so he wasn’t hurting. I don’t think he ever really got over his ex-wife. Blamed himself ever since the divorce.”

“We were told Chloe only invited two people to the wedding,” I said. “Dickie was one of them. Do you know who the other was?”

Max hesitated a moment, and then said, “Yeah, I know him. Nice kid, about her age. Name’s Emmett Parker. Started coming around about a month before the wedding. Chloe seemed pretty happy to see him—obviously someone she’d known for a while.”

“Where’d he come from?” Jack asked.

“No idea,” Max said. “I only met him a couple of times. Clean-cut kid, very polite. Quiet type. He and Chloe spent a lot of time talking when he’d visit. He made her laugh, and there was far too little laughter in her life. Theo didn’t seem to mind him being around. I got the impression Emmett was like a little brother to her. I figured maybe they’d worked together back when she was waiting tables. He mentioned once that he was a student.”

“Got a contact for him?” Jack asked.

Max picked up his phone from the counter, scrolled through it, then wrote down a number on a pad of paper. “This is the number I have for him. I don’t know where he lives.”

“What was your gut feeling on this Emmett kid?” Jack asked.

Max shrugged. “He seemed all right. No red flags that I could see. Wasn’t in love with her like Harlowe was, so he wasn’t desperate to impress or get her attention. Just seemed like they had a connection.”

Jack nodded, making a note of the information. “We pulled the security footage from The Mad King. You dropped Theo and Chloe off right after midnight, but you didn’t check into the Holiday Inn until one thirty. That’s a long time delay for a twenty-minute drive.”

Max’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his eyes. “I stopped at Briggs’s Bar on the way. Figured I’d try to get lucky since I had a few hours before I had to be back. Had a couple of drinks, struck up a conversation with a redhead who looked promising, but she’d had too much to drink and nothing came of it. So I left and checked into the Holiday Inn.”

“How’d you know Theo and Chloe were dead?” I asked.

Max’s jaw tightened. “I went back to pick them up for the airport the next morning. Arrived at seven thirty, checked in at the front desk. They tried to call the villa, but no answer. The manager—Harris—got concerned after a few tries and suggested we go check on them. I didn’t like it. Theo’s always punctual. We took one of those golf carts out to the villa.”

He paused, and I saw something haunted cross his face. “Harris used his master key. We found Theo first, in the master bedroom. Single shot to the head. Blood everywhere. Called out for Chloe, but somehow…I already knew. Found her in the second bedroom.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve seen combat. I’ve seen men blown apart by IEDs. What they did to her…that wasn’t just killing. That was sending a message.”

“Do you know what the message was?” Jack pressed.

Max’s eyes hardened. “If I did, I’d be hunting them myself instead of sitting here talking to you.”

“Theo and Chloe both had a tattoo on the bottom of their foot,” I said. “Know anything about that?”

“There’s a lot I don’t know about either of them,” Max said, but his careful non-answer told me he knew exactly what the tattoo meant.

“I was sent by Nicholas to protect them. And now they’re both dead. I told Theo I needed to stay that night. It doesn’t do any good to have a bodyguard when you send him away.”

“Is that what the two of you talked about when you dropped them off?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Max said. “I was trying to get him to change his mind. Their villa had two bedrooms. But he said they would be fine for one night, and that I’d see them a few hours later when it was time to go to the airport. There wasn’t much I could do but leave. I checked into a hotel so I could stay close by. But it wasn’t close enough to save them.”

His hands tightened around his water bottle. “You know what gets me? I’m good at what I do. Been keeping people alive for thirty years. And the one time I’m not there—the one time I follow orders instead of my gut—this happens.”

“You could save me time and help me find the killers faster if you didn’t hold out on me,” Jack said. “You know more than you’re saying.”

“I was a Ranger,” Max said, his dark eyes intent on Jack’s. “My career has always been about knowing more than I say. If you’re as good as your file claims, then you don’t need me. Others might think differently, but sometimes self-preservation is more important than trying to stop a machine that can never be dismantled.”

“The truth is always more important than our personal wants,” Jack told him.

“There we disagree,” Max said. “I learned that the hard way. I’ll show you out.”

He stood, and we followed him out onto his narrow balcony, the afternoon sun glinting against the orange tile roof of Theo’s house. The spiral staircase loomed ahead, a descent into shadows. Jack turned to hand him a card when a deafening crack split the air.

Time seemed to slow. I caught a flash of movement, the impact of the bullet striking Max’s skull, the spray of blood and brain matter hitting my face like warm rain. Max crumpled to the ground in front of us, his body going instantly lifeless. I stood frozen, blood dripping down my cheek, my mind struggling to process what had just happened.

“Down, down!” Jack shouted, grabbing me and pulling me toward the door.

Another shot rang out, the bullet embedding itself in the doorframe inches from my head. Wood splinters stung my cheek as Jack dragged me inside, throwing me behind the kitchen island as he drew his weapon.

“Stay down,” he ordered, his voice deadly calm despite the chaos. He was already on his phone, calling for backup, giving our location with precision.

I looked past him to the balcony where Max Ortega lay facedown, a pool of crimson spreading beneath him. His water bottle had rolled to the edge of the balcony, teetering there, before finally falling over the side.

My hands trembled as I wiped blood from my face. The metallic smell filled my nostrils, making my stomach turn. In the distance, I could hear sirens already wailing.

“Jack,” I whispered, my eyes fixed on Max’s body. “Look at his foot.”

The impact of the bullet had knocked Max’s body in such a way that one of his bare feet was visible, sole facing up. And there, clear as day on the bottom of his foot, was the same pattern of dots we’d found on Theo and Chloe.

“We’re dealing with something bigger than a jealous lover or a professional hit,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “This is systematic. They’re eliminating everyone with that tattoo.”

“And everyone who might know what it means,” Jack added grimly, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings for the shooter.

I realized with chilling clarity that Max had known exactly what the pattern meant. And he’d died rather than tell us.