Witness Betrayed Page 4
“I am.”
“Do you understand that keeping her quiet and resting comfortably is our primary concern right now?”
“Yes, ma’am. I won’t wake her up, and I won’t get in your way.”
She held eye contact for a long moment because she didn’t believe him. Then she left in a huff, and Novak sank back into the chair. He needed sleep himself but was way too jacked up on adrenaline and caffeine. He dozed off a couple of times, however, but every little sound woke him. The nurses visited the room too often, or it seemed to Novak they did. A pair of doctors appeared once, hovered around Lori’s bed, checking the wound and speaking in hushed tones. Then they disappeared, not to be seen again. No bad guys yet. Maybe Novak had been overreaching. Maybe there were just the two dead men working alone. Maybe they were inept assassins, and therefore lying cold and dead in metal drawers. He hoped that was the case because the threat would be over. It didn’t compute. He was used to considering and preparing for the worst possible scenario. He hoped he was wrong. That would simplify everything.
The next time Lori Garner woke up, she appeared lucid. Novak moved to her bedside and was shocked by the first words out of her mouth.
“Frank Caloroso sent me. He told me to come find you. He said you’d help us. He told me about that place you’ve got on Bourbon Street and the other one down in the bayou. He said I could trust you.”
The name was all Novak needed to hear. Frank Caloroso was an old friend, an all-around good guy, maybe a bit complicated but a trusted partner with whom Novak worked at both the NYPD and in the Navy, all of which happened decades ago. Novak hadn’t seen him recently, maybe five or six years ago, but they kept in touch. Frank was a good detective, a second-generation Italian American hailing originally from Kansas City. Last Novak heard, Frank was living in Galveston, Texas, where Frank worked as a private investigator. Frank had been with Novak the day he watched the World Trade Center crash down with Novak’s entire family inside. Novak had lost his wife, Sarah, and their two little kids, all of them at once, on that terrible day. Caloroso was the man who had kept Novak up on his feet in the awful days that followed when all he wanted was to die along with them.
Unwillingly, Novak relived the moment, the cloying white dust, the rending of steel and shattering of glass. Then he blocked out the memory the way he always did. He owed Caloroso in a way that he could never pay back. He would lay down his life for him. Frank was probably the best friend Novak had ever had.
“Is Frank here in town?” he asked.
Lori Garner shook her head. Despite her swollen eyes, her gaze was focused on him. Her irises were big and the color of a summer sky. There were designs in the blue part that looked like tiny flowers. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot as hell. “He’s hiding out in Galveston. They’ve got a bogus warrant out on him.” She closed those flowery eyes and wet her lips, the tip of her tongue lingering to explore the stiff black suture thread. “I need to go now. Help me get out of here, and I swear I’ll tell you everything. Take me somewhere safe until I can get back on my feet. I’ll pay you anything you want. If you don’t, they’ll come here and they’ll kill me.” Her voice was much stronger now, strong enough to make him notice how full of fear it was.
“Nobody’s going to kill you, not here or anywhere else. What kind of warrant is out on Frank? What do they say he did?”
“Frank didn’t do anything. The judge is dirty. He took Lucy and told Frank he’d kill her if he interfered. Frank’s in hiding, waiting for us to get back there and help him find her.”
That took Novak aback. Lucy was Caloroso’s daughter, the only family he had left since his wife had died five years ago. “Who took her? She’s just a kid. What, eleven or twelve?”
“Just turned thirteen. She’s leverage to make Frank back off his investigation into the judge’s corruption. He says you’ll help us. He says I should do what you say.”
“You can trust me.”
Lori’s voice was hoarse, and she had trouble talking around the stitches, so Novak picked up the plastic pitcher of ice water and placed the straw up close to her mouth. “Don’t drink too much at first.”
She sipped a little and dropped her head back onto the pillow. Her eyes never left him. She was weak and becoming woozy again. She didn’t trust him yet. But if those guys had taken Frank’s little girl, Novak was going to help them get her back. If they hurt her, they were going to pay with their lives. Frank would kill them all.
“If Frank’s a friend of yours, so am I,” he told Lori.
She nodded a little. “They want me dead because I can recognize the guys who took me. If you get in the way, they’ll kill you, too.”
He pulled his chair closer. “You’ve got to tell me everything.”
Lori didn’t answer, succumbing to narcotic dreams. Impatient to know what had happened to Lucy, Novak sat there and stared at Lori’s delicate profile. If those dead guys had Lucy Caloroso held captive someplace, they very well could be hurting that child just like they’d hurt Lori. The idea was enough to chill his blood. Lucy was a nice little kid, polite, well-mannered, sweet, and always had been. Novak was like an uncle to her. He loved her, so whatever was going down on Galveston Island, Novak wanted to get down there and end it. He was half-surprised Frank hadn’t put all of them in the ground already. Frank was not a man you messed with, especially when it came to his family. Lucy was his whole world.
Impatient, growing antsier with each passing hour, Novak continued to sit and wait for something to happen. Nothing else he could do. More time passed. Lori came awake again. Novak leaned over her, and she started telling him the same things over again, her mind still muddled. “Frank said you’d help me. He said you were all we’d need.” Color had come back into her face, infusing tinges of pink into the pallor. She squinted up at him, and then she got squeamish.
“Describe Frank to me. What does he look like?” It wasn’t quite a demand, but it came close.
Novak couldn’t blame her. He didn’t trust people right off the bat, either, and he never trusted anybody completely. He always expected to see their bad side show up; that caution had kept him alive.
“Okay. How’s this? Frank Joseph Anthony Caloroso has light brown hair, hazel eyes, closing in on six feet tall. He can shoot the eye out of a gnat at fifty feet. Damn fine detective. Great cook. His specialties are chicken parm, pizza with pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, and black olives. Let me think, what else? He makes rigatoni broccoli with pink sauce for Lucy. That’s her favorite. That enough or you want more?”
“Any scars?”
“He’s got a quarter-inch-thick knife slash on the back of his left forearm. Got that in 2010 in Bangkok on a weekend pass out of Japan. Throws knives like a damn ninja. He’s got a big tat on his back, had it done in Honolulu—crossed flags: Stars and Stripes and the Navy Flag.”
Lori looked relieved. “Okay, you know him. Good.”
“My turn to ask questions,” Novak told her. “You’ve been well trained. My guess is you got that in law enforcement. So what was it? Police, military, or something else?”
“Military police before I opted out. I can hold my own.” She opened her eyes and stared up at him. “Just so you know, I was up against four of those guys, and it was dark. They overpowered me.”
Novak fought an urge to smile. That takedown had humiliated her. Novak could relate. She’d done the same thing to him when his guard was down. He had to give her points for that. “You caught me unaware and held me at gunpoint. Not too happy about that, to tell you the truth.”
They both glanced away. Novak looked back before she did. She continually moistened the stitches in her lower lip with her tongue. Her mouth looked painful. He wanted more answers. “So what’s your part in all this?”
Wariness showed up in her eyes; she wasn’t exactly hiding her emotions.
Novak wasn’t letting her get by with that, no
t anymore. “You really think they’ll be stupid enough to come after you here?”
“They’ve got orders. They never go back until they’ve finished their tasks.”
“On whose orders?”
“The judge nearly runs Galveston. He’s got a lot of people working for him.”
“So how are you involved? What’d you do to get on his bad side?”
Lori turned painfully onto her good side. She looked uncomfortable, but she tried to push herself up. She was a tough woman. That was obvious and something he liked.
“Tell me about these guys after you? Who are they? Where’d they hold you? Maybe I can put them down before they can come for you.”
She sort of shrugged, but that hurt her arm, too. “They got me right outside Louis Armstrong airport. Pushed me into the car, slapped me around some, and then they blindfolded and cuffed me and put me in the trunk.”
“Nobody saw them take you?”
“It was a red-eye flight. Nobody much around outside, not out in the parking garage, anyway. I wasn’t expecting to be attacked outside Texas.”
“Where’d they take you?”
“An old warehouse on the riverfront. I grew up in New Orleans, so I recognized the sounds of the French Quarter. I could hear the crowds and the music and the boat horns on the Mississippi. They chained me to a brick wall down in the basement and kept me there in the dark. It was cold and damp, and the windows were boarded up. They left me by myself for a long time. Then they came back.” She shivered a little, remembering. He didn’t ask her what they did to her. “I’m pretty sure they took me to the old King Cotton building a few streets off the end of Bourbon. Look, you need to get me out of here so I can check in with Frank. He’s going to be worried. I was supposed to call him every day.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Four days, I think.”
A nurse chose that moment to intrude. This lady was older with very short gray hair in what looked like a buzz cut, late sixties, and all business. She informed Lori that she was going to give her a sponge bath, or a shower, if she was up to it, and that Novak was going to have to leave, no arguments. All was uttered in a neutral, polite voice that brooked zero complaints. Novak rarely antagonized crotchety old ladies, so he complied. Stepping outside the room, he leaned a shoulder against the wall opposite Lori’s door and watched the elevator bank. Pulling out his cell phone, he punched in Frank Caloroso’s home phone number. They hadn’t spoken in a while, but that didn’t matter. No answer. He tried Frank’s cell and got a disconnected message. The elevator doors opened, and a lady stepped out and walked toward him with a clipboard balanced on one arm. She was from the admitting office and cornered him before he realized what she wanted. She asked maybe fifty questions in short order, none of which he could answer.
Novak denied knowing anything. He wasn’t about to give her or anyone else Lori Garner’s real name, not with thugs gunning for her. He didn’t think they had given up, either, so he wasn’t taking chances. He persuaded the lady that he was endeavoring to get information from a mutual friend, which was the truth, sort of. She mumbled on about insurance and fees and personal responsibility. He told her he’d pay for everything out of his own pocket. She smiled and took him at his word, which was always a mistake at times like this.
When he was eventually allowed back inside Lori’s hospital room, the patient did look better, clean and fresh, in a new blue gown, her hair wet, with all the residual blood washed away. She looked as good as she could when all beaten up and just out of surgery. She had been given another strong sedative and was sleeping, at peace with the world, at least until she opened her eyes and recalled all those guys gunning for her.
The doctor who had entered while Novak was on the phone now stood at her bedside. He told Novak she was doing well and could possibly leave the hospital the following day, but only if she continued to improve and had somebody to take care of her. Novak volunteered his services and told the doctor he would nurse her diligently until she was back on her feet. That was true. Her connection to Caloroso was enough for him to go in full bore. He didn’t know exactly how Lori Garner fit into his good friend’s equation, but he’d soon find out.
She slept for a long time, giving Novak time to think things through. That’s when he first became leery of her story. According to her, she’d been overpowered but somehow managed to escape from four armed captors while chained and blindfolded inside a dark basement. She might have been one hell of a good MP, but that kind of escape was Houdini caliber, military training or not. According to her, she had been shackled with cuffs but got away, found her way out of the building wearing nothing but a raincoat, figured out where Novak was, and sneaked into his apartment with a Luger nine and forced him to do her will. All on her own. All without help. Huh uh. Not likely.
On the other hand, she was in bad shape and she had mentioned Frank Caloroso’s name. That earned her his help, albeit with some reserve. Once he got her down to Bonne Terre, he could deal with anybody sniffing around until he got hold of Frank. It stood to reason that Lori either had something the bad guys wanted or they were sick predators who hunted women in a pack. If she hadn’t given up what they were after, they’d come back for seconds. He had to be ready.
The nursing staff sashayed in and out regularly. Hell, they woke her up to give her sleeping pills. He kept watch interspersed with light dozes. Lori slept well now, still and quiet, dead to the world. A nurse came in around two o’clock the following morning. Novak had reclined on the other bed, behind a drawn curtain that was parted just enough to see Lori’s bed. This nurse was male and wearing the ever-popular dark blue scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck. He didn’t acknowledge Novak’s presence, probably didn’t know he was there.
When he moved to Lori’s bedside, Novak shut his eyes, used to the routine by now. He needed to catch some winks while he could. A moment later, he roused up when he didn’t hear the soothing murmurs that all nurses everywhere used in the middle of the night when rudely disrupting a patient’s peace. He opened his eyes in time to see the man take Lori’s pillow out from beneath her head and push it forcefully down over her face.
Novak had always been quick on his feet for a big guy, and he was on top of that nurse in two seconds flat. He hit him the first time in the right ear, just about as hard as he’d ever thrown a punch. Stunned for a moment, the guy went down on his knees, before he grabbed for the rolling table and sent it skittering hard across the floor tiles. Novak jerked the pillow off Lori’s face and went down on top of the guy. Straddling him, he clamped both hands around his throat. He glanced at the door. Nobody heard and nobody came. He pressed both thumbs down hard against the guy’s Adam’s apple, wanting answers before the guy lost full consciousness. The man struggled weakly under Novak’s weight, but he was thin and slight and gasping for breath and bleeding from the ear and the side of his mouth. Novak pulled his head up by his hair and stared into a pair of dark unfocused eyes. So he slapped the guy hard in the face. Novak leaned down close to his good ear. “Who are you? What do you want with Lori Garner?”
The guy stared blearily up at him.
Novak pressed down harder until he couldn’t draw breath. “Who ordered you to hit this girl? Why?”
The man tried to struggle.
Novak pressed harder. “Who hired you? How many more are coming?”
The guy wasn’t the cooperative sort. Novak let up on his throat when the guy tried to moan out something that sounded like lock, but Novak couldn’t be certain, and the word meant nothing to him. Then before he could regain his throttle hold, he sensed a presence close behind him. That’s when the wire garrote came down in front of his face, and Novak jerked away and managed to get his forearm up between it and his gullet. It tightened hard against the back of his arm and drew blood. Novak struggled to throw the guy off his back as it twisted tighter. Then Novak feinted lef
t and rolled back to his right and managed to shake the man’s hold. He got in a good hard jab at his assailant’s nose, and the strangle wire went slack. His attacker faltered a second, and Novak was on him, holding his arms down with his knees as he raised his fist to finish him. He jerked the smaller man up by his shirt, his intended blow faltering in midair as he recognized him. Shocked, he let go and staggered up to his feet.
“What the hell, Frank? Why’d you attack me?”
Frank Caloroso sat up, pinching his nostrils together. “I thought you were killing that nurse, for God’s sake. Thanks for the bloody nose.”
“He’s no nurse. He’s here to kill your friend.” Novak glanced at the door, expecting a nurse to appear. Nobody came. They must all be handling some emergency on the floor or having a tea party in the breakroom. All remained quiet, so he extended his hand and pulled Frank to his feet. He stared at his old friend.
Frank Caloroso had always been a good-looking guy, usually in good spirits and wearing a big friendly smile. Any other time, he would be talkative and lovable and hell on wheels, especially on his downtime. They had worked Manhattan streets together for four years and locked up their share of street thugs. Novak would choose him first in any fight on any day of the week. He was glad to see the guy. Right now, his friend just looked angry.
“Well, shit, Novak, I think you broke my damn nose. Hell, I thought you were killing that guy.”
“What the hell are you doing here? Lori said you were hiding out in Texas.”
Frank grabbed a towel out of the bathroom and groaned as he pressed it against his bloody nose. “I came to find her. She hasn’t picked up since the day she left. I was worried, and it looks like I had good cause to be.”
“Well, they got her. Look at her face.”
Frank stared down at the woman. “I should’ve come here instead of sending her. I didn’t think they’d follow her out of town. I tried to call you first. You change your number, or what?”
“I change my number every six months. Hate to tell you this, but this is the second time they’ve tried to get her. We’ve got to get her out of here.”