FanStory.com
"Living On The Edge"


Chapter 1
Living On The Edge - Chap 1

By Begin Again

 

"Freedom!"

 

Troy Sinclair's clenched fist shot into the air as he let out a roar of triumph. The clanging sound of the steel gates closing behind him sent shivers down his spine. He had spent the last four years of his life living and breathing prison life, but today, he was a free man.

He had a plan, a mission to complete. As he walked away from the towering prison walls, a guard's voice echoed in his ears, "Try to stay out of trouble, Sinclair. You don't want to make this your permanent home." 
 
Troy turned around and shot the guard a withering glare, his eyes blazing with fury. He could feel the anger boiling inside him, but he kept his cool and walked away. Another guard laughed and taunted him, "We'll be waiting for you with a nice, cozy cell with your name on it." 
 
Troy flipped him off and breathed in the fresh air, feeling the sun's warmth on his face. He tipped his head towards the sky and closed his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him. He savored the feeling of freedom, being alive, and being in control. Finally, he was free!
 
A brown paper bag held Troy's meager belongings, symbolizing four years of nothing, time he could never retrieve. He wasn't sure where he was going or how he was getting there, but it didn't matter. For a few precious moments, he wanted to drink in the fresh air and forget about the hell hole he'd left behind. Tomorrow was early enough to search out the justice he deserved.
 
As he strolled out of the yard, he spotted a sleek black town car parked across the street. It was a stark contrast to the drab surroundings he’d left behind. He smiled. Maybe after four years, they still remembered him.
 
He recognized the driver and quickened his step, rounding the front of the car in seconds. The passenger door swung open. Cigar smoke wafted past him as he climbed into the vehicle.
 
"Long time no see, my friend." The driver's voice rumbled around the car's interior, followed by his laughter. "Heard you might be looking to hitch a ride today."
 
Troy slid across the plush, cream-colored leather seat and closed the door, sinking back into the comfort of the headrest. He turned his head toward his friend. "It's good to see you, Sam." He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Where'd you steal the car?"
 
Clutching his chest, Sam feigned injury. “Already a dagger to my heart,” he joked. "I borrowed it from my hundred-year-old grandmother. She can't drive, but she’s got good taste."
 
Troy laughed, "And that building over there, it’s a five-star resort, right?" 
 
Sam joined in on the joke. "You know it. We're living the high life now!" He started the car and shifted it into gear.
 
As he took a deep breath, a familiar fragrance of Calvin Klein's Obsession wafted through the air, making his nostrils tingle with recognition. A sultry and alluring voice that sent shivers down his spine accompanied the perfume. His heart skipped a beat. 
 
"Welcome home, big boy. Did you miss me?" The voluptuous blonde in the back seat leaned forward, exposing two generous mounds of creamy flesh straining against the powder blue silk fabric of her shirt.
 
"Every second I was inside, babe." Troy loosened the collar on his shirt. She was smoking hot, and he could feel the sizzle. He'd played with fire before, but this one was different.
 
Nikki's eyes met Sam's dark and piercing gaze in the rearview mirror. A puff of smoke escaped his cigar as he extinguished it in the ashtray. "Calm down, Nikki. You're just here for the ride," he said, his voice cold and authoritative.
 
Her face contorted with frustration. "You're such a buzzkill, Sammy. My husband doesn't have to know everything. I'm not a pet on a leash."
 
Sam's expression hardened. "Trust me, what he discovers will buy us all early graves. And don't you forget it."
 
"Now, now, children, let's not fight." Troy gazed outside the car window and watched the scenic countryside slowly transform into a concrete jungle. "Town's gained a few impressive buildings, but it's still a hick town. Nothing ever changes around here."
 
"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't." Sam tossed the morning newspaper into Troy's lap. "Thought you'd be interested in some reading material while we drive."
 
Troy picked up the newspaper. "Humph — there can't be anything in this piece of garbage that'd interest me," he scoffed. "If you think I'm checking the classifieds, you're mistaken. I've already got a job in mind."
 
Unfolding the paper, he stared at the bold headlines.
 

               EARLY RELEASE FOR COP-TURNED RAPIST

A big grin spread across Troy's face. "Nice of them to announce my homecoming. Are they throwing a party?" The trio laughed as he added, "We all know this is nothing but political lies. I was wrongfully accused."
 
"Yeah, you were lucky the rape charges didn't stick. Not taking sides, but you and I know you walked on the wild side more than a time or two."
 
As Sam maneuvered the car into the traffic, he pointed his finger at the paper. "I thought you'd be more interested in the story at the bottom," he said.
 
Troy scanned the newspaper, stopping near the bottom. A familiar pair of eyes with the same rich chocolate brown as his smiled back at him. "Well, ain't that nice? Big Brother made the front page just like me. It's an all-in-the-family sort of thing."
 
Sam flashed a grin and raised his eyebrow. "You haven't heard. Big Brother found some friends in high places and is sworn in as the new Chief of Police.
 
Troy responded with a hint of bitterness, "Not surprising! He's a people pleaser. Took after mama." Troy's smile disappeared as he unconsciously massaged the spot on his right hand between his thumb and the pointer finger, where he had a tattoo of a cross entwined with a serpent.
 
A silence prevailed before he growled, "Guess he has the magic touch. He corralled some criminals, including his brother. That had to make people sit up and take notice. He's good at keeping his secrets behind closed doors."
 
Sam's tone was matter-of-fact as he spoke. "Let's be honest. You owe him. Four years was a drop in the bucket compared to the original charges against you. When the department lost their star witness, someone was looking out for you."
 
"Maybe. Think I should visit him, us being family and all?"
 
Sam cautioned his friend with concern, which was evident in his voice, "I don't know. He changed his name for a reason. I'd think about taking it easy, or you'll be in the slammer again. This time for good."
 
"You worry too much, Sam. Just drop me off downtown, okay?"
 
The bustling city was alive with the sound of traffic. Horns blared, people cursed, and Troy Sinclair couldn't stop smiling. He was free and feeling good after spending time behind bars in a 6 x 9 cell.
 
"Damn traffic." Sam blasted his horn as a taxi cut in front of him. "The damn cabbie should count his blessings that he didn't put a scratch on the boss's car. He'd be pushing up daisies."
 
"Relax, Sam. It's just a car, for Christ's sake." Troy liked nice things, too, but cars weren't at the top of his list. He preferred something softer and far more pliable, like a woman.
 
"You try telling that to the boss." Sam steered the car to the curb. "He likes fast cars, expensive wine, and fine women, and not necessarily in that order." The two men laughed. In the back seat, Nikki kept her thoughts to herself.
 
Troy opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He leaned over and looked back into the car. "Tell Frank thanks for the ride, Sam." He blew a kiss to Nikki. "You two lovebirds can bicker all you want. I got better things to do." He slammed the door closed and strolled away from the car.
 

*****

Alyssa carefully parked her sleek, silver car on the quiet street just north of the bustling park. The Tipsy Tavern, her chosen spot for the night, was only two blocks away, but the steep incline of the street and her four-inch ruby-red stilettos made it feel like a daunting mile-long journey. 

She had put a lot of thought into her outfit for the night, selecting a striking red halter top that perfectly complemented her shapely figure and skintight jeans that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her long, glossy black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. To complete the look, she pinned a delicate rosebud in her hair, adding a touch of elegance to the already stunning ensemble.
 
As she approached the bar, she noticed a middle-aged man casually leaning against a lamppost. Although his double-breasted pinstriped suit looked outdated, he was well-groomed, and his cologne had a pleasant woodsy aroma. His chiseled chin, deep-set dark eyes, and black fedora gave him an air of mystery and charisma reminiscent of the famous fictional detective Dick Tracy. As he watched her approach, a minted toothpick rolled in the corner of his mouth, adding a slight crook to his smile.
 
Alyssa's heels tapped a staccato beat against the concrete, their sharp clicks echoing through the street. Her hips swayed with a hypnotic rhythm, drawing his gaze to her curves. As she stopped before him, her lips painted a bold shade of ruby red, parted slightly as her tongue darted out to wet them. Her perfume was heady and alluring, wrapping him in a cloud of floral and musk.
 
"How's it going, big guy?" She leaned close to his chest, running her finger up and down the backside of his tie. She stopped at the knot, curled her fingers around his tie, and tugged him into her well-endowed bosom.
 
Tommy leaned in, his warm breath tickling her neck. "A lot of people in the bar tonight. Check the flashy dresser at the end of the bar who's spreading the cash fast and furious." 
 
She raised an eyebrow. "That's not our guy's style. He's too smart to draw attention to himself like that. But don't worry—we'll find him if he's here. For now, it’s time to party." 
 
Tommy's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Just don't wear yourself out too soon. You never know what the night will bring." 
 
She laughed, feeling a sense of excitement building within her. She planted a bright red kiss on his cheek. "Oh, Tommy, I'll be just fine. Just make sure you don't get too distracted by all the gorgeous women and the booty-shaking going on around here."
 
Tommy stood near the entrance of the smoky bar and watched his partner disappear into the crowd. The bar was dimly lit, and the music was so loud that Tommy could feel the bass thumping against his chest.

He looked between the neon signs hanging in the dirty window. Allie was already gyrating with a tall, well-built cowboy across the dance floor.

Tommy sighed and whispered, "Oh, Mother in Heaven, please don't let it be him. I'm not up to wrestling a bullrider tonight." He removed his tie and shoved it in his jacket pocket, leaving his jacket and hat in the coat closet. He circled the bar, noting the flashy dresser, a biker, two businessmen, and a few other potential targets. Alyssa was moving and grooving with another guy on the dance floor.
 
The biker leaned into the bar, savoring his whiskey and watching the women dancing. Tommy's gut suggested that he was their target. As the song ended, he circled the bar, accidentally bumping into his partner as she left the dance floor.
 
Tommy's voice rose above the beat of the music. "Excuse me. I'm so sorry." He gestured with a nod and added in a hushed tone, "Blond biker, three-quarters of the way down the bar." With that, he continued on his way, weaving through the crowd.
 
Alyssa made her way towards the bar, her eyes scanning the regulars as she shared a joke or two. As she drew closer to the biker, her gaze lingered on his leather jacket and tattoos. With a graceful stretch, she leaned across the bar top and waved to the bartender.
 
"Manny, this girl's thirsty. It's hot in here." She fanned herself with a cocktail napkin and dabbed the tops of her breasts.
 
"Sure thing, Honey. Just give me a second."
 
Alyssa's hips swayed to the music, occasionally brushing against the biker. On the other side of her, a man was smoking a cigar. She coughed and bumped into the stranger again.
 
"You, okay? Here, take a sip of my whiskey." He held the glass for her, inhaling her sweet aroma.
 
Coughing, she tried to smile. "I'm sorry. Too much dancing in the smoke, I guess, and his cigar." She motioned toward the man behind her.
 
"Do you need some air? I'd be happy to walk outside with you."
 
Her long eyelashes flickered. "Oh no, I can't impose."
 
"It's not imposing. It's getting a little steamy for me, too, if you know what I mean?" His eyes traveled to her breasts and then to her eyes. She giggled and looked shyly away.
 
Alyssa wet her lips and smiled uncertainly at the man standing before her. "I don't even know you."
 
He leaned in close and kissed her cheek. "My name's Jason. I own my company and a big house in the hills. I ride a motorcycle, drink whiskey, and love beautiful women. And you are?"
 
Alyssa felt a shiver run down her spine at the suggestive undertones in his voice. "My name's Alyssa," she replied. "I love the name Jason, a man who owns companies and has big homes in the hills. And I love motorcycles and the men who ride them."
 
Jason grinned at her response. "Perfect! Now we know each other and have tons in common. Let's step outside for a few minutes, cool down, and I'll show you my bike." He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her towards the exit.
 
Once outside, the cool night air hit Alyssa, and she felt a wave of dizziness. She stumbled and fell against Jason's shoulder, feeling embarrassed. But he didn't seem to mind, tightening his grip around her waist.
 
"Guess I drank a little too much tonight," she giggled.
 
"Don't worry, honey," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "Jason will take good care of you."
 
Alyssa smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through her body. "Oh, promise?" she said, batting her eyelashes and kissing him on the cheek. "I feel so special."
 
Jason leaned against her while her back pressed against the wall, kissing her lips and her neck and then running butterfly kisses across her breast, stopping to flick his tongue down the crease. 
Alyssa wiggled, pushing her breast against his chest, and squealed, "Oh, you're a naughty boy, Jason."
 
"But you like it, right?" He kissed her passionately this time, holding her body tight against him. His breathing was heavy when he released her. "Come on. Let's walk through the park. There's a bench by the fountain."
 

"Oh, we shouldn't. Someone might see us," Alyssa said as she glanced up and down the sidewalk, her cheeks flushed. 

 "I know a secluded place. No one will see us," he replied with a sly grin, planting another kiss on her lips and grabbing her hand. "Come on. You liked naughty Jason, didn't you?" 
 
Alyssa bit her lower lip and nodded as her heart raced. "Just kissing, right? No funny business." 
 
"Just a few kisses in the dark, I promise," he assured her, taking her hand and leading her toward the darker part of the park. 
 
As they walked deeper into the park, Alyssa's eyes widened at how dark it was. "I thought you said there was a bench and a fountain?" she asked nervously. 
 
"Don't worry, it's just a little further," he whispered, pulling her close and guiding her through the shadows.
 
"I don't think so." Jason pushed her to the ground, covering her mouth with one hand and ripping at her halter top with the other. "You wanted to play, remember?"
 
Two seconds later, Tommy firmly connected the butt of his gun with the perp's head. He lay there, unconscious.
 
Alyssa scrambled to her feet, her heart racing as she emerged from beneath the man. With a hiss, she whispered, "You need to work on your timing a little better."
 
Tommy swiftly took off his suit jacket and threw it towards her. "I didn't expect both of you to run into the park in the dark," he said, shaking his head. It's a good thing we put that tracker in your shoe." He scanned the area, his eyes darting back and forth. Now get out of here. It looks like our backup is here unless you're planning on blowing your cover."
 
Alyssa slipped on his jacket, the warmth of the fabric easing the chill of the night air. With a nod, she hurried away from the scene, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder as she disappeared into the shadows.
 


Chapter 2
Living On The Edge - Chap 2

By Begin Again

Alyssa was sitting in her dimly lit kitchen, her eyes fixed on yesterday's newspaper with its glaring headlines. The article was about a dirty cop who had been released from prison. She felt her anger growing inside her, and her body ached with frustration. She reread the article and spat on it.

"You were supposed to rot inside those walls," she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with contempt. She collapsed into a kitchen chair, her head rolling back and forth to ease the tension in her neck. 
 
"How can you be walking the streets, a free man?"
 
Her hand swept across the table, scattering the newspaper on the floor. She couldn't contain her rage, and her words bounced off the small kitchen walls. Her voice trembled with emotion. "Why? Tell me, why would anyone pull so many strings to put a dirty cop like you back into society again?" 
 
She had heard that they had changed the trial's venue and moved it upstate, which only added to her frustration. Alyssa had wanted to be in the courtroom, gloating when the guilty verdict was read. Instead, she had been promoted and given an undercover job, which kept her busy and distracted. Life had moved forward, and she had almost forgotten about him.

She slowly paced around her third-story loft, her bare feet feeling the cool wooden floor beneath them. She sipped her second cup of coffee, savoring its warmth and bitterness. The sound of morning traffic from the street below drifted through the partially opened window.
 
Suddenly, a sharp headache hit her as if someone was playing native drums right inside her head. Her hopes for a promising day off vanished in an instant.
 
Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. With annoyance, she picked up her phone, ready to throw it away. However, a smiling face on the screen stopped her from doing so.
 
Sighing, she answered the call, "Penny, it's my day off. That means no work calls allowed."
 
The voice on the other end was far too cheerful for her liking. "I know, I know. I told the boss you wouldn't want to be disturbed."
 
Alyssa scowled. "Tell him I didn't answer. Or better yet, tell him I'm lying on a sandy beach on an island in the middle of nowhere, drinking margaritas. Phones are obsolete."
 
"I can't!"
 
"Sure, you can. I'll even take you to lunch to get those messy tacos you love."
 

Penny hesitantly replied, "It sounds yummy, but the Chief is standing right here."

 

Allie groaned. "Fine. What's so important that he had you call but still stood over you to listen?"

 

Penny hissed, "Allie, he can hear you!"

 

"Penny, he gave you the dirty job of calling me because he knew exactly how I would react." Allie raised her voice and yelled, "It's my day off, and I'm not coming in even if your mother died."

 

"Oh, Allie. That's disgusting, and I'm not repeating it."

 

"Not to worry, girlfriend. He heard me," Allie said with a smirk.

 

Chief Richard Harrison's appearance still commanded attention despite being out of the field. His tailored clothes concealed the fading muscular arms and tight abs, but his rugged look and caveman attitude remained, especially when he had a specific goal in mind. His husky voice was rough and deep, demanding attention from those around him.

 

He stretched out his left hand, revealing a long scar on his pinky finger. Penny immediately placed the phone in his hand, almost as if she had no choice but to obey his command.

 

In a drill sergeant-like manner, he barked, "Hayden Park at noon. I'll take two of those tacos with extra sauce." With that, he broke off the conversation.

 

As the Chief returned to his office, Penny wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue in disgust. "Those were my tacos!" she muttered under her breath, feeling frustrated by how Harrison had taken charge of the situation.

 

*****

 

The warm air enveloped the rooftop, which was bathed in a golden glow from the morning sun rays. The turquoise blue pool in front of him sparkled, and potted plants and flowering bushes surrounded it. A giant dolphin rose from the center of the pool, spouting water, and the view was breathtaking. He could see lush green hills extending into the horizon and the city nightlife bustling beneath his seventh-story penthouse. It was a paradise that surpassed all his expectations.

 

"Man, when you said Frankie would set me up, I never dreamed of a place like this. Remind me to send him a box of cigars," he said.

 

"Frankie didn't forget what you did for him in the past. You may not be Italian, but he will always consider you family. Just enjoy and lie low for a while. I know you have that chip on your shoulder, but the grapevine has it you aren't safe."

 

"I know certain people thought I wouldn't make it out of the joint, but I did," Troy said, his voice low and gruff. He had spent hours in solitary confinement, carefully devising a plan. 

 

"Troy, this town's not the same run-down place you left. Frankie's got connections. He'll take care of you."

 

"Don't get me wrong. I'm appreciative, but there are some things a guy's got to do himself. You understand, right?"

 

The male voice at the other end of the line laughed. "You've been stubborn since we were kids and got caught stealing candy from Ole Man Jenkins. We all ran for our lives, but not you. You stood there and took his whacks from his trusty broom. He always favored you after that."

 

Troy chuckled, the memory of his childhood mischief bringing a small smile to his face. "I had it coming. We all did. But getting framed for someone else's crime never will sit well with me," Troy continued, his voice growing serious. I don't know if she was in on it, but the girl knows something. She didn't get that big promotion for nothing."

 

"Troy, listen to me. You need to stay far, far away from her."

 

"Can't do it, my friend," Troy replied firmly. "Listen, I've got to catch a shower, so maybe we can have dinner soon. You can tell me about all those women you've been chasing around town." 

 

They both laughed and Tro,y disconnected the call, his mind forming the next steps of his plan.

 

He placed another call.

 

Penny answered the phone with a friendly voice, "Chief Harrison's office."

 

"I was supposed to meet with the Chief today. I have some important documents that require his signature. Would he be in, by any chance?"

 

"I'm afraid not," replied Penny. "The Chief is out to lunch. He's taking a break from the office and enjoying the beautiful sunshine in the park. Would you like to leave a message for him?"

 

"No, that's alright. I'll try to reach him later. Thanks for your help." He hung up the phone and couldn't help but smile. "So, the Big Brother is having a leisurely lunch at the park. Maybe I can spoil his appetite."

 

*****

Less than an hour later, Troy had perused the extravagant wardrobe Frankie provided, chosen an emerald green jogging outfit, showered, shaved, and set out to find his brother in the paSeeingseeing his brother face to face sent chills up his spine. He hadn't heard from him since their last meeting when his co-workers brought him in with handcuffs. He'd never forget that moment.

 

They had exchanged hostile glares before Richard snarled, "See you in hell," and ordered one of his henchmen to take him away. His almighty brother had walked away, never attending the trial or visiting him in prison.

 

Troy almost missed his brother's presence as he strolled along the park's winding walkways. Richard's hair had streaks of gray, and he had gained a few pounds. When he finally spotted him, Troy stepped out of sight, feeling the blood rush to his head and his heart thump in his throat. He watched to see if anyone was joining him.

 

Alyssa was dressed in comfortable jeans and a white T-shirt. She had parked her car nearby and was holding their lunches—one with tacos and extra sauce and the other with two large containers of sweet tea. She had tied a red ribbon in her long hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail. She carried a folded newspaper under her arm as she walked towards the picnic table.

 

Troy, noticing her approach, skillfully moved closer, trying to overhear their conversation. He expected the newspaper headlines from the day before might be the topic of discussion. Fortunately, he could slip from one overgrown lilac bush to another until he was only a few feet away.

 

 "Nice of you to join me, Alyssa. It's a beautiful day for a picnic, don't you think?" The Chief said with a smile, gesturing towards the bench. "Please, have a seat." Then, remembering his manners, he added, "Lunch smells delicious. Can I take some of it out of your hands?"

 

Alyssa's eyes were dark and uninviting as she placed the trays on the table, followed by the newspaper. "I'm in no mood for pleasantries, Chief. I assume this command performance is because of yesterday's headlines."

 

"Come. Come, Allie. That's old news. Why would you even give it a second thought? The man did his time. What more can I say?"

 

She snapped, "You can start by explaining how a rapist got four years. With all the other charges, he should have been doing life. You kept all this from me."

 

"I don't understand, Richard. You're telling me that there wasn't enough evidence to bring Sandra's killer to justice?" Allie asked, her tone filled with disbelief.

 

"That's correct. The star witness disappeared, so Sandra's reports were deemed biased," Richard explained in a calm but firm voice.

 

"Biased? Sandra was meticulous and put her life on the line for you. She deserved better than this. Where was her backup?" Allie demanded, her frustration showing.

 

 "It was a miscommunication, Allie. The perpetrator served his sentence and is now a free man," Richard responded, trying to explain.

 

"That's unacceptable, Richard. Sandra deserved justice, and we failed to deliver it. We need to do better," Allie stated firmly, determined to ensure that this never happened again.

 

"Things happen. It's my understanding there wasn't enough evidence." Richard waited patiently, knowing her response.

 

"And now, I'm walking in Sandra's shoes, working the bars. I can't even tell my family what I do for a living. My sister believes I work as a crime reporter."

 

"Alyssa." He never used her proper name unless he wanted her attention. It worked as intended. Alyssa lowered her voice and sat. He responded politely, "That's better."

 

Troy couldn't believe what he was hearing. It sounded as if his brother was defending him. Was he mellowing? Impossible, his brother would never take his side, so what game was he playing? And the girl appeared to be struggling to understand all the discrepancies. Could she be innocent of his accusations?

 

Alyssa inhaled and looked away, staring across the park, before addressing her boss again. Her voice was steadier, more committed to what she had to say. "When you asked me to step into Sandra's shoes, I did. I wanted to avenge her death. To get creeps like him off the streets, yet here he is after only a few years. I don't understand."

 

"I'm sorry, Alyssa, but you need to remember I am your boss. I'm ordering you to keep your eyes on your job and forget about Troy Sinclair. If anything, he's my problem, not yours. The case is closed and shall remain closed."

 

Alyssa's eyes burned with anger as she fought to remain composed, biting her lower lip to avoid lashing out. "I wish I could say it's been a pleasure, but I can't," she said through gritted teeth. "Lunch is on me, Chief. Enjoy it!" She strode away from the Chief with purpose, her steps quick and determined as she made her way to her car.

 

Troy, who had been listening intently to their conversation, realized too late that he had missed his opportunity to confront them. As he watched Alyssa leave, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The Chief's words had given him a lot to think about, and he knew he needed to tread carefully if he wanted to uncover the truth.

 

*****

 

Richard eagerly bit into his taco; the crunch of the shell and the explosion of flavors made his taste buds dance. The extra sauce dripped down his chin, and he quickly grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. He couldn't help but take another bite, enjoying the satisfying combination of spicy and savory.

 

Alyssa had annoyed him, but not enough to disrupt the pleasure of his meal. He took a long swig of iced tea to wash down the taco.

 

Troy emerged from the bushes, catching Richard off-guard. "Hello, Dicky, or should I call you Chief?" Troy approached from behind, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

Surprised, Richard choked on his food, spitting it out into a napkin. He turned around to face his brother, the man he thought would be murdered in prison. Hatred filled his eyes, but he quickly composed himself and put on a smile.

 

"Well, well, Troy. I didn't expect to see you today or ever."

 

"Tsk, tsk, what an unfriendly remark for my dear brother. Hell got here sooner than you expected, I guess."

 

Recovering from his initial shock, Richard's composure was intact. "You might want to tone down your insults unless you want to find yourself back where you just crawled out from. After all, I am the Chief of Police now. It carries a lot of weight in this town."

 

"You carried a lot of power before they gave you the title. Enough to get me sent away to prison."

 

Richard shrugged. "I wasn't the judge or the jury. Besides, you should be thankful that our dear friend, Judge Williams, only gave you four years. From what I heard, you deserved much more."

 

Troy's anger was growing. He snapped, "I'm sure your dear friend was compensated royally for his decision. And you and I both know I didn't rape or murder that girl."

 

"Calm yourself! Prison life must not have agreed with you. I've heard those yard fights are brutal."

 

"I had my share of shivs rammed into my side. I bet you were well informed."

 

"Yes, they tell me that happens to rapists."

 

"Damn you, Richard! I'm not a rapist. That evidence was planted, and one of your playmates was ordered to tell that story."

 

"Her description fits you to a tee, including the tattoo."

"In case you've forgotten, I'm not the only person with that tattoo."

 

"I'm aware of that. That's probably why our witness disappeared. I suspect that Frank DiVito had a hand in it. Speaking of him, how is he doing? I heard he was responsible for your new living quarters. Enjoy them while you can because I don't think you'll be there for long."

 

"I'm not going anywhere."

 

"Don't be so sure. I've heard that the prison guards have already prepared a cell with your name on it."

 

"Funny! Some things never change. I just got home, and you're trying to get rid of me again."

 

Richard stood, wiped his mouth, and smiled. "I'll leave you my scraps. Duty calls." He turned to leave and then stopped. "I'd watch your back. Rumor has it, it's got a target on it." Richard laughed and walked away.

 

Several curse words escaped Troy's mouth before leaving the park.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right hand man


Chapter 3
Living On The Edge - Chap 3

By Begin Again

 

CHAPTER 3

 

Alyssa lounged comfortably on her plush couch, indulging in the savory combination of cheese and crackers while sipping her favorite energy drink. The gentle strains of classical music filled the air, creating a peaceful ambiance. Suddenly, the jarring sound of her phone ringing pierced the tranquility, causing her to startle.

 

As Alyssa checked her phone, she couldn't believe what she saw - Penny's smiling face beaming back at her. Her initial surprise quickly turned to frustration as she answered the call, trying to keep her anger in check, "Penny, what part of 'it's my day off' do you not understand?"

 

Penny replied in a whiny tone, "Don't kill the messenger. I'm sorry, but this time, I guess I'm delivering his peace offering."

 

Alyssa was skeptical. "Oh, this should be good. What is it? Is Big Spender having you bring coffee in the morning? Fine, make mine a cappuccino."

 

Penny chuckled and said, "No, silly. This is much better. I put the bug in his ear when he was huffing and puffing this afternoon. I knew something had him wound up, and I figured maybe your lunch didn't go so well."

 

Alyssa let out a sigh, "You can say that again. He ordered me to back off a case."

 

Penny quickly glanced around to ensure nobody could hear her before whispering, "Oh, gosh. Knowing you as I do, was there fire in those tacos?"

 

"Oh, dear. Well, you must have made some impression with whatever you said. After he cooled down, he told me to call you. He said you should have dinner on him — with a friend. He knows you like Italian, so he suggested Mama's Ristorante." Penny whispered, "He's picking up the tab, so be sure to order an expensive wine, something bubbly, instead of a cheap Chianti."

 

"Hmmm, sounds tempting. Are you busy? You're my friend. Would you like to join me?"

 

Penny's voice perked up. "Oh, dinner at Mama's sounds scrumptious. Rob and I were going to watch some old rerun tonight, but I am sure he will understand."

 

"Great! Meet you at 8 and come hungry."

 

*****

Troy returned to his penthouse and headed to the terrace to unwind. As he lounged on the comfortable outdoor furniture, he gazed at the picturesque sunset that filled the sky with shades of pink, orange, and purple. The gentle breeze played with his hair, and the sound of the rustling leaves of the nearby trees filled his ears. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, feeling relaxed for the first time in a long time.

 

The ring of the house phone brought him to an upright position. He hadn't given out the number to anyone. He lifted the receiver and listened, then snapped, "Who is this?"

 

The male voice on the other end chuckled, "Nice! Did they offer that in Charm School 101 at your last address?"

 

"Funny! One can't be too cautious."

 

"Dare I ask how your day went?"

 

Troy sighed. "A mixture of mother nature at her best and Godzilla. I almost forgot how breathtaking a walk on a spring day can be, but then it was ruined by the presence of the town's Chief of Police."

"You ran into Richard in the park? He impresses me as a secluded bar guy, not a lover of Mother Nature. How did you stumble across him?"

 

"It wasn't an accident. I called his office, and this cute little voice answered. She said he wasn't available and conveniently told me he was enjoying lunch in the park." Troy quickly added, "He wasn't alone. She was there, the cop."

 

"Oh, man, tell me you steered clear of both of them."

 

"I did until she stormed off and left him devouring the tacos. His appetite hasn't changed."

 

"Listen, I'm anxious to hear what happens next, but how about we do it over dinner? A cool beverage and some delicious Italian food at Mama's. How does that sound?"

 

"Great! I'm starving and have no idea what's in this kitchen. See you there. Is nine o'clock okay?"

 

"Yup. Can't wait to catch up." The call ended.

 

Troy replaced the receiver and hurried inside.

 

*****

 

Upon arrival at the restaurant, the staff politely informed the girls that there would be a brief delay before they could be seated at their reserved table. So, they waited in the bar area, decorated with a collection of Italian-inspired furnishings, creating an ambiance resembling an elegant Italian villa. They ordered their drinks and shared some office gossip and girl talk, enjoying the subdued atmosphere and the chance to relax.

 

Penny eagerly surveyed the bar and restaurant entrance. "Gosh, it's like we're in Italy."

 

"It's beautiful. Have you ever been to Italy?"

 

"No. I've never been out of the state, but a girl can dream. Maybe I can convince Rob it should be our honeymoon destination if he ever proposes."

 

"He will. Guys always drag their feet, but you've obviously got him wrapped around your finger."

 

Before Penny could deny her power over Rob, a waiter approached them with a warm smile. "Excuse me, ladies. Your table is ready now. Please follow me," he said.

 

 Penny felt a sense of excitement as they made their way through the crowded dining room, marveling at the exquisite décor and the elegant atmosphere. 

 

After they had taken their seats, the waiter approached them again. "Excuse me, but are either of you ladies Alyssa Saladino?" he asked.

 

"I'm Alyssa," she responded, glancing across the table at Penny with a raised eyebrow. "I wonder what our illustrious leader has up his sleeve now?" They both laughed and looked at the waiter with anticipation, curious about what would come next.

 

With a wave, another waiter approached Alyssa's table, carrying a long-stemmed red rose and an envelope. Alyssa couldn't help but feel amused, but she wasn't sure if someone had intended the items for her. She asked the waiter, "Are you sure this is for me?" 

 

The waiter replied, "I believe so. The rose and letter were left for Miss Alyssa Saladino. If that's you, then it's yours."

 

Still skeptical, Alyssa accepted the items from the waiter. "Thank you."

 

Penny grinned. "Holding out on me, are you? Chief doesn't have a romantic bone in him, so I'd say you have a secret admirer. Do you know who it's from?"

 

Alyssa shrugged and shook her head. "I have no idea."

 

"Hurry! I'm dying to know. Open the envelope and see what it says."

 

Alyssa smelled the rose and laid it on the table. She examined the envelope, but it was a plain letter envelope with nothing written on either side. She ran her finger along the opening and slipped out a folded pale blue piece of stationery. She unfolded it and read. It had seven words written on it. The color drained from her face.

 

Penny sensed something was wrong. "Allie, what is it? You're scaring me."

 

Staring at the paper, Alyssa mumbled, "I'm sorry, Penny. I've got to go."

 

"By the look on your face, that's not a love letter. What's happening?"

 

Alyssa folded the letter, looked around the room, and then, as calmly as possible, she addressed her friend, "Penny, I know Rob lives two blocks from here. I want you to call him, and the two of you will have dinner on the Chief."

 

"Allie —"

 

"Call Rob. I'm okay, but I need to leave. I'm sorry."

 

"But —" Penny stammered, "I'll go with —"

 

"No!" Alyssa answered more quickly than she had intended. "I need to go — alone."

 

Sensing something was wrong, the waiter approached their table. "Is everything alright? Can I help?"

 

Alyssa looked at him, questioning, "Do you know who brought this?"

 

He shook his head. "Only that a local flower shop delivered it."

 

Alyssa nodded. "Thank you. I need to leave, but my friend and her boyfriend will be dining here tonight. I would appreciate it if you took good care of them. Please bring a bottle of your best wine and add a generous tip for yourself." She stood and kissed Penny's cheek. "I'm sorry."

 

Alyssa strode towards the entrance with purpose, leaving Penny in a state of shock, her mind reeling with confusion. She sat there stunned, trying to understand what had just happened. As she tried to piece together the events that had transpired, one question kept swirling around her head: "What in the world just happened?"

 

*****

 

Alyssa contemplated asking the front desk for any information regarding the delivery. However, before she could make a move, the sight of Troy Sinclair entering the restaurant took her aback. A sudden wave of cold sweat ran through her body, starting from her toes and rushing up to the top of her head.

 

She felt a sense of panic and thought to herself, "I can't let him see me!"

 

As she frantically looked around, her eyes fell upon the women's restroom, only a few steps away. Without a second thought, she raced inside. Despite part of her wanting to confront Troy, the other half was too afraid to do so. She stood staring at herself in the mirror, lost in thought and debating with the woman staring back at her.

 

"Don't make a scene. You need proof."

 

"I'm a cop. I can question anyone I want."

 

"The boss said to stay away."

 

"Since when do you listen to him?"

 

"He's an ex-con, and he's harassing me."

 

"He's not said a word. You don't even know if he's seen you."

 

"So, I suppose it's a coincidence that he's here tonight?"

 

"He's paid his dues. He's free to go where he wants."

 

"What about the rose and the letter?"

 

"What about them? You have no proof they're from him."

 

The argument could have continued all night, but the entrance of several women interrupted it. Alyssa smiled, dried her hands, and left.

 

Standing in the foyer, she scanned the bar, looking for Troy. Not seeing him, she walked toward the dining room, where she stood behind a large plant. She could observe the patrons through a row of shutters from her position. She still did not see him. Had she been mistaken? Perhaps she had imagined that it was him.

 

Suddenly, her eyes darted back to a table in the corner. She could see his face, but not the man he was with. He was laughing. Anger for her deceased friend surged throughout her body. She knew there was nothing she could do. Not tonight, but soon.

 

"Laugh all you want, you son-of-a-bitch. I'll catch you at your game. I promise." She took one last look and left the restaurant.

*****

 

Outside, Alyssa took a long, deep breath to calm her nerves. The bistro garden was empty. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, but she needed to gather her wits before walking home.

 

She hadn't realized she held the crumpled stationery in the grip of her hand. She placed it on the table and pressed out the wrinkles with her trembling fingers. A row of hanging globes hung from the rafters above her, shedding a soft glow. It wasn't bright, but it was enough for her to read it again.

 

                       You haven't seen the last of me.

 

She thought it sounded like something a sinister character in a Clint Eastwood movie would say. Almost threatening. 

 

Someone leaving the restaurant laughed, and her head jerked in their direction. She looked around, telling herself, "He's not here." But she knew better. He was inside, laughing, while outside, he taunted her.

 

Drained, Alyssa longed for a long, hot bath and her bed. Her leisurely day off had turned into a highly stressful one. With the words ingrained in her mind, she folded the letter, placed it in her pocket, and headed home.

 

*****

 

Alyssa felt relieved as she entered her building. She'd walked home, and not a single boogie man had jumped out to frighten her.

 

She scolded herself, "Get a grip, Allie. It's a small town. You're going to see him. Until you have solid evidence, he's a free man to come and go." His words flashed across her mind. "You haven't seen the last of me." She wondered how long those words would haunt her.

 

She stepped into the elevator and leaned against the wall. "I've got news for him. He hasn't seen the last of me either."

 

*****

 

The elevator shook as it stopped at her floor, rattling as the door slowly opened. She waited patiently so she could exit. She didn't live in a fancy high-rise, but it was comfortable.

 

She felt more at ease as she stepped out into the hallway on her floor. Home sweet home. Her mind even drifted to Penny and Rob and their dinner. She hoped they'd enjoyed their evening. Maybe a romantic evening might put a spark under Rob. Penny deserved a good man.

 

An unexpected noise shot a chill through Alyssa. She sensed something or someone was nearby. The tapping of her stilettos stopped. Icy fingers of fear strummed her spine. She spun around, looking behind her. Her eyes darted toward every doorway. Her heart was racing. She'd heard something, but what?

 

A door opened behind her. A figure stepped into the hallway. Startled, she screamed at the top of her lungs, fearing somehow Troy had found her.

 

The young delivery boy raised his hands in the air, waving his clipboard. "Whoa, stop. It's alright. I didn't mean to scare you, ma'am. Just makin' a pizza delivery. Are you okay?"

 

She hid her embarrassment with a laugh. "I'm fine. That'll teach me to daydream, won't it?"

 

The young man nodded. "Sorry if I scared you." She'd said she was okay, but her deer-in-the-headlights look made him think otherwise. He stepped around her, nodded, and headed toward the elevator, making a mental note to give this delivery to someone else next time.

 

Alyssa unlocked her apartment door and hurried inside. She turned the lock and adjusted the bolt lock, checking it twice. She sank against the wall, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Removing the stilettos, she massaged her aching arches. As she stared at her trembling hands, the dam broke. A torrent of tears cascaded down her cheeks as she slid down the wall, curling into a fetal position. The tears flowed until she couldn't cry anymore and drifted into a fitful sleep.

 

*****

 

Outside the penthouse, Troy exited a cab. He handed the cabbie the fare and tossed an additional twenty across the seat, mumbling, "Keep the change."

 

He'd enjoyed spending time with his friend. It was good to feel like a human being again. Tossing his suit jacket over his shoulder, he spun around with abandonment, then checked to see if anyone had been looking. He chuckled at his exuberance. "You'd think I was a kid."

 

The terrace was calling his name. He wanted to relax and gaze at the stars, pushing everything seedy from his thoughts. Tonight was a night for a living. He knew tomorrow would still be the same, but tonight was his.

 

He made a mental note to call Frank tomorrow and thank him for bringing him back to life. Then, his world came crashing down.

 

From somewhere in the darkness, he saw the flash from the barrel, followed by the crack. The bullet punched its way through his side, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. His hand felt the warm, sticky substance as it soaked his clothes.

 

Gulping for air, Troy struggled to reach the elevator. He pushed the number seven, pressed his jacket against the hole, and prayed he could make it to the penthouse. "Oh, God, I survived attacks in the joint; please don't take me now."

 

As the elevator stopped, he stumbled into the apartment, grabbed the phone, and slumped to the floor. He hit the speed dial. His breathing became ragged, interrupted by quick gasps. When the voice answered, he struggled to speak, gasping for breath, and stammered, "Help! I’m shot.”

 

The voice at the other end yelled, "Troy! Troy! Can you hear me?" When no one answered, he snapped the steering wheel with a hard left, making a U-turn. Car horns blared at him. His car tires squealed as he punched the gas pedal. He turned on his flashing lights and barreled down the street toward the penthouse. As he skillfully maneuvered the traffic, he placed a call.

 

"We've got trouble. Troy's been shot. Meet me at the penthouse."

 

Immediately, Sammy responded, "I'm on it. We'll have the van in the alley in fifteen."

 

"I'll meet you there." A block away, Jake shut off the lights and drove into the alley, leaving room for the van. He unlocked his glove compartment and retrieved his gun. He entered through the rear entrance and raced to the service elevator, punching the button several times.

 

His heart slammed against his chest as he counted the floors. "Hang in there, buddy. I'm almost there."

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy

My apologies for the length, but I hope the read was worth it. I am trying to stay around 2000 words per chapter because I just found out I have to travel to North Carolina at the end of the month. I want to finish the story before then. Thank you for understanding. Please enjoy!


Chapter 4
Living On The Edge - Chap 4

By Begin Again

 

CHAPTER 4

 

In a secluded sanitarium hidden in the hills, highly skilled doctors worked feverishly through the night to save Troy Sinclair's life.

 

"He's got the best medical team available, Jake. If anyone can save him, they can and will." Frank Divito stared out the window, silently praying for Troy's recovery.

 

"I know, but only hours ago, we exchanged stories, reminiscing about the good old days—and the not-so-good ones, too. I hadn't seen him since — well, a very long time." Jake moved away from the doors leading to the operating room, where his friend's life hung in the balance, and joined Frankie.

 

"Any thoughts on who might be behind the shooting?"

 

"Thoughts? Yeah, a million of them, but no tangible proof. When your guys scoured the premises, did they come up with anything?"

 

"Unfortunately, not even a shell casing. However, Sam says they found a partial footprint and a green cellophane wrapper. Some kind of candy or mint. Can't say for sure either belongs to our shooter, but for now, it's all we have to go on."

 

"What about the penthouse?"

 

"My cleaning crew wiped it clean. If anyone goes there looking for Troy, they'll never know what went down. Every inch has been sanitized. New carpet is being installed as we speak."

 

"You're the best, Frank."

 

"We're all products of the old neighborhood, Jake. In our later years, we each chose our own way of life, but the pact we made that day will always be thicker than blood. We're brothers until the end."

 

"Brothers!" Jake shook his head and stared at the sky. "I wonder if the Chief will even worry about his disappearance or what story he'll spin if the press gets wind of it? According to Troy, his homecoming wasn't a happy one."

 

"Really? Maybe he's worried about his political future."

 

"Political future? Now, that's a first for me. Is Richard considering running for office?"

 

"My grapevine says he's already making plans. Of course, everyone is keeping it hush-hush since he just got sworn in as Chief, but he's already got things in motion, focusing on really running this town.

 

"Mayor?" Jake's jaw dropped. "He's never mentioned anything of the sort at the station."

 

"And he won't until he's got all his men in the positions he needs them to be. Why do you think he changed his name? He was trying to distance himself as far away as he could."

 

"But then why the reduced sentence? Wouldn't he have wanted Troy to rot in prison so he could show his stand on crime?"

 

"That's exactly what he wanted."

 

Jake frowned. "I'm confused. Why would the Chief's poker pal give Troy a reduced sentence? If Richard wanted his brother gone, certainly he would have pressured the judge to throw the book at him, especially since he was a cop."

 

"Believe me, he did. Sometimes, it's not just who you know, Jake. It's what you know and who knows it."

 

"The witness that disappeared?"

 

"After some cosmetic surgery, she's living and breathing on the Spanish Riviera. Touching elbows with the rich and famous is quite exhilarating." Frankie chuckled. I'm positive the Chief is steaming over her disappearance."

 

"Well, someone killed Sandra in the line of duty. As her commanding officer, he should want to avenge her death."

 

"Maybe. But something tells me there's more to that, too."

 

Jake slapped his friend on the back. "I'll never figure you out. Here you have the rap of being a kingpin in the undercover world, and you're out solving the town's crimes."

 

"Someday, we'll sit together, share a few glasses of wine, and I'll tell you the whole story, but for now, let's just worry about Troy."

*****

"Are you listening to me?" Richard snapped as he leaned across his desk. "If you can't handle the late nights, maybe you should take a break." He grabbed a stack of papers and waved them in Jake's direction. "I've got a dozen men clamoring for your job."

 

"Huh? Give me a sec, okay?" Jake lifted his lanky frame from the chair, pushed back his baseball cap, and moved toward the door. He yawned and stretched. "I just need a cup of that black brew Penny calls gourmet coffee."

 

"No, stay put." Richard opened the door and growled, "Penny, get Jake some coffee."

 

Caught off guard, she dropped her phone into the desk drawer and spun her chair around. "But Jake doesn't —"

 

"Damn it, girl. He says he wants coffee." Richard retreated and slammed the door.

 

"Yes, sir!" Wide-eyed, she hurried across the room to the coffeemaker, scoured the assortment of cups, picked the cleanest one, and poured the tarry substance into it. She felt goosebumps form on her arms as she tapped on the Chief's door.

 

It was her lucky day! Jake opened the door, offered her a lopsided grin, and accepted the steaming cup.

 

Battling the lack of sleep, Jake took a huge gulp of the liquid and choked, "It's like drinking mud. How do you drink this crap?"

 

For the first time that morning, Richard chuckled. "I don't. A daily service brings in coffee, or Alyssa picks it up on her way in."

 

"Alyssa?"

 

"Yeah, she was a good friend of Sandra's. You probably haven't met her yet. She's a feisty one. Recently, she got promoted to this department and now works undercover in the red-light district. Fairly good at her job, except she's got her head screwed up because Sinclair got released."

 

A chill shot through Jake's tired body as memories of last night flashed through his head. "You mean Troy — your brother?"

 

"Jake, a cop gone bad and turned rapist is not a brother of mine. I hope he moves on before he strikes again in this town."

 

"Come on. I know I'm the new kid on the block, so I wasn't around when the arrest went down, but I remember Troy as a kid. Do you honestly believe your own flesh and blood could stoop so low?"

 

"I'm afraid I do, and I told him so. We don't need his kind around here." Richard turned his chair toward the window. "This town is growing, and big things are happening. If I have my way, Troy's kind will rot in jail if someone doesn't kill him first."

 

Jake's exhaustion, combined with his worried frustration, made his anger bubble below the surface. He snarled, "He's your brother, for Christ's sake."

 

Richard spun back around, glaring at Jake. "I'd watch your tone, Jake. Old friendships only go so far. I can make your life miserable around here or send you packing."

 

Jake returned the icy glare. "My mistake. It won't happen again." He moved toward the door. "I've got a job to do."

*****

A deep, painful groan escaped Alyssa's lips as she straightened her legs and stretched. It felt as if her eyelids had been glued shut. Her head throbbed.

 

She pushed herself to a sitting position and mumbled, "Why am I sleeping on the floor?" Her answer was a flashback of last night's events.

 

She felt her skin crawl as the fear reclaimed her. Her trembling arms and legs battled against her attempt to stand, but ultimately, she was victorious. Her fingers fumbled with the locks, checking they were intact.

 

Satisfied, she stumbled to the bathroom, splashing ice-cold water on her face. It felt good. She patted her skin dry with a hand towel and stared into the bloodshot eyes in the mirror. "Holy cow, I could go on vacation with these bags." Then scolded herself, "You've got to get a grip. Where's that girl who wants to be a cop? You aren't going to solve Sandra's murder by flipping out."

*****

A steamy shower, a change of clothes, and coffee helped put Alyssa in a slightly better place, but not a perfect one. She reached for her phone and realized she'd missed two calls while she was cleaning up. Both were from Penny.

 

Inhaling, she placed the call and waited. Penny answered on the first ring, snapping, "Where are you? I've been worried sick. Are you okay?"

 

Alyssa rubbed her temple with her free hand. "Slow down, girlfriend. I'm alive. I've got a throbbing headache, but I'm not dying."

 

"How would I know? That letter last night couldn't have been good, or you would never have ditched me."

 

"Ditched you? Some thanks I get for giving you and Rob a chance to have a romantic dinner."

 

"I know your tricks, Allie. Don't try to turn the subject to Rob and me, though the dinner was lovely."

 

"Great. I won't —"

 

Penny interrupted, "I'm not done with you, Allie. The letter? Either you tell me, or I tell the Chief. I'm sure he'd like to hear about it."

 

"No! Don't tell the Chief or anyone, for that matter. Promise me."

 

"Fine, I promise. Now spill it."

 

Alyssa thought for a moment, wondering how she could dress up the letter without telling the whole story.

 

Penny was impatient. "I want the truth, too. I know you're trying to think of something I'll buy into. It's not going to happen. Oh, here comes the Chief. Maybe you want to tell him yourself." Penny looked around, making sure no one was around, especially her boss.

 

Allie took the bait. "Okay, I'll tell you." She sipped her coffee and began, "Before I came to this department, I had a long-going relationship with a man. He didn't want me to take the promotion, but I did. Long story short, I broke it off between us. Gave him the ring back and everything. Last night, I guess he had second thoughts."

 

"But how'd he know we were having dinner at Mama's?"

 

"He must have followed me. As a matter of fact, he was at the bar when I left."

 

"Oh dear, did he make a scene? Men are so stupid like that. Or did you decide to give him a chance?"

 

"Oh no. That relationship is water over the dam. I told him that last night and we went our ways. See, nothing sinister happened."

 

"You better not be lying to me, Allie, or I will never forgive you."

 

"It's the whole truth. I promise." Alyssa crossed her fingers and prayed for forgiveness.

 

"It's late in the day. Are you coming in?"

 

"No, it's my shift tonight, so I have a few errands to run before showtime."

 

"Okay. And Allie, please be careful."

 

"Don't worry your pretty little head. Tommy's always got my back." She ended the call and buried her head in her arms on the table. At least I hope he does.

*****

 

Jake stormed out of the building. He couldn't believe he'd been able to keep his cool listening to Richard berate Troy. Did his success mean so much to him that he would sacrifice an innocent man? He couldn't possibly believe Troy could do any of the accusations that had sent him to prison.

 

He climbed into his car and dialed Sammy's number.

 

A sleepy voice answered, "It's still morning, my friend. Call back when I'm awake."

 

Jake laughed. "It's almost noon, Sammy. I've been at the department since seven."

 

"That sounds like a personal problem. You need a job with better hours. I'm sure my boss would help you out with that."

 

"I'm sure he would. Is there any news on Troy?"

 

"Yeah. Frankie talked to the doctor. It's touch and go because he lost a lot of blood. He wouldn't make any promises, but he thinks Troy will recover. They've got him doped up for the pain. It's just going to take time, Jake. Look at it this way, better he is in Frankie's hands than someone else's."

 

"Yeah, I hear you. Any thoughts on who shot him?"

 

"Not yet, but the guys are working on it. If anyone can find out, our team can. Now if you don't mind, I need to get a few more hours of beauty sleep."

 

"Thanks, Sammy, for everything."

 

"Hey, I'm just the errand boy. What Frankie wants, Frankie gets."

****

Alyssa had walked through the glass doors of her friend's office countless times before, but today was different. Something about this visit made her feel uneasy. She needed someone she could trust who wouldn't judge her or dismiss her concerns as mere nonsense.

When she arrived at the door, she couldn't help but admire the cozy and inviting decor. The plush burgundy chairs with overstuffed pillows, the vibrant Persian rug, and the soft lighting all contributed to the welcoming atmosphere. The walls featured mahogany bookshelves and wainscoting, creating a personal, homely feel to the space.

Alyssa read the name on the door, "William Cohen, PMHNP - Psychiatric & Mental Health," and took a deep breath before knocking. Within seconds, the door opened, and her friend's warm and friendly smile put her at ease.

"Allie. Come in. It's been a long time, but I'm happy you called."

She returned his smile. "I'm sorry I stayed away so long. Life kind of got in the way."

"You are always welcome to come by, even for a chat."

"I know. Billy. Thank you."

He sensed her nervousness. "Everything okay?"

She shook her head. "No — yes — honestly, I don't know."

"Come into my office. We won't be disturbed because everyone has the afternoon off. The newscast was keeping me company."

A newscaster was reporting on Troy Sinclair's early release from prison. They showed a photo of him. Allie's eyes widened as she focused on him. The unexplainable fear gripped her again, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

"Allie, what's wrong? Do you know this man?"

His gentle kindness opened the floodgates. She buried her face against her friend's chest, unable to be consoled.

"You're scaring this old man. Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Tha-a-at's — that's him," her muffled voice stuttered. "He's responsible for Sandra's murder."

"He faced a conviction for rape. I didn't hear about a murder. Are you sure it's the same man, Allie?"

"I'm positive. Sandra was my friend. There was a witness, but she disappeared before she could testify. Someone said something about his tattoo. He got four years instead of life."

"I'm sorry about that, but as a cop, you know things happen. People make deals. You have to learn to separate yourself from it or the job will destroy you."

"I can't. And now he's haunting me."

"Is this real or is it your imagination and grief getting the best of you?"

She thrust the letter into his hands. "It's real. The letter was delivered to me at dinner last night."

Bill read the words — You haven't seen the last of me. "Allie, what does it mean? Are you sure he sent it to you?"

"I've never met him. And I'm not sure of anything, except I feel like I'm being followed. Am I going crazy?"

"Allie! You need to tell the police. You can't fight this alone."

"My gut tells me he's going to kill me, Billy."

"That's it! I'm calling the police right now."

"No, it's only a gut feeling. I don't have any proof."

"Your gut is good enough for me." Bill picked up his phone and dialed. He dropped the phone as he saw his friend staggering out the door.

He raced after her, screaming, "Allie, wait. Talk to me."

Gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest, she struggled to contain her fear. It was too late, though - terror had taken control, and was driving her forward at breakneck speed. "I have to leave. I never should have come here."

With a frenzied desperation, she burst through the outer door, glancing frantically back over her shoulder as she ran. She collided with someone entering the building, sending them stumbling backwards towards the curb.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" Her eyes widened in alarm, her throat constricting as she struggled for air. Her heart was racing so fast she was sure it was going to burst from her chest. For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

The man regained his balance, turning to glare at her in anger. But then their eyes met, and something inside her snapped. A voice in her mind screamed, "Run... run... get out of here before it's too late." She knew she had to get away, had to escape the horror that was lurking just beyond the door.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy
Bill Cohen - friend of Alyssa and psychiatrist


Chapter 5
Living On The Edge - Chap 5

By Begin Again

 

CHAPTER 5

 

"Taxi"

 

Alyssa checked and rechecked the sidewalk behind her as she nervously hailed a cab. The sudden surge of adrenalin had pushed her to run and keep running until she could no longer breathe.

 

After giving the driver her address, she leaned against the seat, inhaling and exhaling. He looked at her in his mirror before asking, "Are you alright, Miss? Do you need help?"

 

Unable to talk without stammering, she shook her head. He nodded and pulled his cab away from the curb. Traffic was congested, and the commute was slow. It gave Alyssa time to gather her composure. By the time they neared her destination, she wanted to walk. She paid the driver and apologized, "I'm sorry if I caused you concern. I'm practicing for a marathon and pushed a bit too hard today. I lost my breath. Thank heavens I was able to flag you down. Thank you again."

 

He smiled, but Alyssa doubted he believed her.

 

She regretted her lie, but how else could she explain how she'd reacted? The man's face, especially his eyes, had set off major alarms. She didn't remember why at that moment, but something triggered her instinct to run.

 

In the taxi, she began to unwind. She tried to remember where or when she'd seen those piercing eyes. And why did they have such an impact on her?  Her insecurities made her question her ability to be a cop. It happened so fast, rising from a newbie to an undercover cop so quickly. Her life had changed so dramatically since losing her friend, especially since Troy Sinclair's release, that she'd focused on his guilt and not much else.

 

"Are you doing better, Miss?" His compassionate eyes met hers in the mirror. How could he have known she needed someone to care, even if it was a stranger? She missed her family, especially her sister, Layla. Tomorrow was her birthday. She made a mental note to set aside enough time to call and catch up. Alyssa kept her life a secret, and that was a difficult practice when she wanted to share everything with Layla.

 

Thoughts of her family reminded her of home. As a young girl, she'd always roamed the fields along the riverbank, skipping stones across the water and breathing in the fresh air. It's how she cleared her head. Breathing in and breathing out.

 

"Sir, I'd like to get out here, please." Alyssa slid across the seat and moved closer to the door.

 

"Are you sure? I'll be happy to drop you at your door. It's only a few blocks."

 

"Thank you, but I think I need to walk."

 

"Walk? The way you were running when I picked you up." He couldn't help but question her thoughts. "Must be some marathon you're training for."

 

She smiled and answered, "It is."

 

The cabbie edged his vehicle out of traffic and pulled next to the curb. She handed him the fare and opened the door.

 

He said, "Enjoy your day." and moved on to his next fare.

 

*****

 

"Two scoops of Andes chocolate mint in a waffle cone, please."

 

It was a warm day, and the neighborhood ice cream parlor was busy. Normally, she'd have spent a little time chatting with the clerk, but today, she took her cone, paid, and waved goodbye.

 

A man in a business suit held the door open for her. His smile caught Alyssa's attention instantly, as did his eyes. They were an amber brown, soft and warm, far from the piercing and smoldering eyes she'd faced earlier. She returned his smile and stepped outside.

 

*****

 

"Listen, man, our eyes connected. And in a flash, she knew. She recognized me." Antonio wiped his brow.

 

"You're crazy. You've never met her, have you?"

 

Antonio thought for a moment, trying to remember. "I saw her with the dead cop once, but that was from a distance."

 

"Then how could she know you? She was a rookie when Sandra was murdered. Relax. You're making too much out of nothing."

 

"Yeah, Tommy, I guess so. It just threw me coming face to face with her like that."

 

"We've got a good thing going. You've got to keep it together, or you're going to blow it."

 

"Naw, man. I'm good!"

 

"That's my Antonio. Now, we've got work to do. Can I count on you to do the job right?"

 

"Have I failed you yet?"

 

"No, and I don't want there to be a first time. Forget about the girl."

 

"Forgotten!" Antonio hung up the phone and lit a cigarette, drawing hard. He could feel it reach his lungs like a warm blanket. As he exhaled, he knew he hadn't seen the last of her.

 

*****

"It's got to be here somewhere."

 

Alyssa was knee-deep in boxes in a dimly lit storage area, with only a tiny window providing a flicker of light. The boxes contained various items, including old books and clothes, kitchen utensils, and childhood memories. 

 

As she rummaged through the boxes, she scolded herself for not being able to keep her things organized. But she couldn't stop now; she had to find that box. Dust and sweat formed on her forehead and cheeks, and her hands were sore from the constant lifting and moving of boxes.

 

She scolded herself. "You need to purge, Allie. You don't need all this stuff." She grabbed another box and ripped it open. "I need to find the box Penny gave me with Sandra's files. Maybe Mom was right. I don't know how to organize."

 

 Her head snapped away from the boxes toward the male voice behind her.

 

"Allie, what the heck are you doing down here? It looks like a tornado ripped through this basement." Junior, the building's custodian, surveyed the mess, shaking his head. "Did you lose something?"

 

"I did, but I may have just found it." She looked at her watch. "Man, I didn't realize what time it was. I've got to get ready for work." She set Sandra's box aside and carried the other boxes into the unit.

 

"Listen, Allie, I'll put these boxes back for you. You go and get cleaned up."



 

"That would be awesome, Junior. Are you sure? I made the mess."

 

"It's fine. I'm trying to avoid Mrs. Temple on the second floor anyways. She wants me to talk to her parrot."

 

"Her parrot?"

 

Junior shrugged. "I think she just wants the company, but after three days of entertaining a bird, I've run out of conversation."

 

Alyssa laughed. "I appreciate it, Junior." She retrieved Sandra's box and headed for the stairs. "Thanks, Junior. I owe you one. Gotta run."

 

*****

 

Back in her apartment, Alyssa lifted the lid from the box. A chill coursed through her body. Those piercing eyes, his eyes, were staring at her. A photo lay on top. Now she remembered. She turned the picture over and read Sandra's notes — Antonio Frisella — Dangerous Suspect connected to red-light murders.

 

Laying it aside, she dug deeper into the box. A bridal magazine brought a tear to Alyssa's eye. She remembered how excited Sandra had been talking about her future wedding. She'd made a folder with all the flower arrangements and, especially, the dress she would wear. Sighing, Allie tossed the magazine aside. Sandra's dreams were gone, never to be.

 

After shuffling through a stack of paperwork, she found a manilla envelope stuffed with old newspaper clippings and pictures. Before she could study them, her phone rang.

 

"Hello."

 

"Hey, babe. It's me."

 

"What could you have to say that couldn't wait till tonight? You must be bored."

 

"Right! Actually, you could wear something less showy tonight. Maybe those leather pants and the yummy peasant blouse."

 

"You mean the blouse that exposes the girls and the pants I can barely breathe in. For your information, that's showy, my friend."

 

Tommy laughed. "Well, you've got me there."

 

"Since when do you pick my wardrobe, anyway?"

 

"It's just that we could grab a bite to eat before we hit the bars. We need to talk. Chief thinks you're pushing this Troy thing a bit too hard.

 

"So, he's asking my partner to put on the brakes instead of him doing it himself. I've a mind to —"

 

"Slow down. I wasn't trying to fire you up. Just some friendly conversation and those juicy burgers and fries you love."

 

"Hmmm — I am hungry, and I suppose an evening dress would be suspicious in Hazel's Greasy Spoon." Alyssa checked her watch. "Okay, meet you in an hour. But I'm telling you, you aren't going to change my mind about Sinclair. I owe it to Sandra. That whole case got swept under the rug, and I plan on finding out why."

 

"Okay, understood. I was her friend too, remember?"

 

"See you soon." Alyssa hung up and gathered the papers she'd spread across the floor. She stared at the envelope. It was an essential piece of evidence, and she knew she needed to put it somewhere safe, not tossed in a storage unit. But where?

 

A large picture of New York City skyscrapers hung on the wall. Alyssa remembered it had been a gift from Layla to remind her of who and what she'd left behind.

 

She found some tape in a kitchen drawer, removed the picture from the wall, and carefully taped the envelope to the back. As she returned it to the wall, she smiled, "Sis, I love the picture, but I could never forget you and New York. Happy early birthday! I'll call you tomorrow."

 

*****

 

"Tommy, could you ease up just a little? I've heard enough about what the Chief wants." They'd just started to eat, and she was already irritated.

 

"I'm telling you, harping about Sinclair won't get you anywhere." He took a huge bite out of the burger, thoroughly enjoying it. He wiped the juice from his chin and took another bite.

 

As he munched away, Alyssa weighed her options. She could continue to listen to her partner carry on about the Chief and Sinclair, or she could share some actual police business with him. She didn't think anyone knew about Sandra's findings; if they did, it had been kept a secret. Otherwise, why hadn't it been used as evidence in the trial?

 

"A penny for your thoughts, partner?"

 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Guess I was daydreaming again?"

 

"Again? Do that a lot lately, do you?"

 

"Maybe. Tommy, I found some information in Sandra's files and since we're partners, I want to share it with you. It could have been crucial to the investigation, but with Sandra dead, no one saw it. Then, maybe they did, but I don't think so."

 

Tommy watched Alyssa over the rim of his glass, calculating what he should say. He decided to go slow. "What kind of information? I doubt it could be too important or Sandra would have passed it on to the department?"

 

"I don't know. Maybe she didn't have a chance. What if someone murdered her because they were looking for the evidence?"

 

"Possible. Murder's a big step, though. It must be pretty damning."

 

"I think it is, but before I tell you, you've got to promise this doesn't go any further than you and me until I've — we've had a chance to check into it. Okay?"

 

"Yeah, sure. I promise. We're a team." Tommy continued to drink his soda, but his juicy burger was forgotten. "So, give. What's the evidence."

 

"Well, I didn't get a chance to examine everything, but Sandra had copies of newspaper clippings of murdered prostitutes, for one. Isn't that why we're out here, trying to find the guy or guys responsible for these killings? I think Sandra was on to something big."

 

Tommy's interest heightened as he listened. "What makes you say that?"

 

Alyssa's eyes scanned the patio, checking if anyone could overhear their conversation. Satisfied, she added, "A picture."

 

"A picture? Probably some old mug shot that was lying around her desk. What makes you think it has anything to do with this case?"

 

"It does! I know it does. Sandra told me. She wrote on the back of it. It says —" Today's meeting flashed through her mind. She inhaled sharply and slowly let the air escape, trying to calm her nerves.  She blurted it out. "Tommy, she wrote Antonio Frisella — Dangerous Suspect connected to red-light murders." She swallowed hard. "Tommy, that's us — the case we're working on right now."

 

"Whoa! If it's real, that's some evidence. But how do we know this guy is still hanging around? Couldn't he have skipped town, afraid Sandra had given someone else the evidence?"

 

Alyssa hissed, "But he didn't!"

 

A bit cocky, Tommy answered, "How do you know that? She give you his last known address?" He laughed and shook his head.

 

Alyssa leaned across the table. "Better than that! We met face to face today." Satisfied, Alyssa grinned. "Now, do you believe me?"

 

Tommy's eyes narrowed. "You met this guy! Today? How?"

 

"I didn't know it when it happened. I bumped into him, and our eyes met. I couldn't explain it, but I was terrified. I hate to admit it, but I ran away."

 

Tommy chuckled. "Some cop you are, running away."

 

"Stop it! I hadn't put two and two together. That happened later. I remembered the picture I'd seen in Sandra's stuff. I didn't give it much attention at the time, except for his creepy eyes. I'd know them anywhere."

 

Tommy stood and tossed his half-finished burger in the trash. His stomach was churning. "You've had a busy day. I need time to digest all this, but unfortunately, we need to get to work. You're right, though. Until we know more about this guy, we need to keep it between us."

 

"Agreed."

 

*****

 

In the early morning hours, Antonio Frisella's phone rang. His fingers fumbled across the nightstand, searching.

 

Once he located the phone, he grumbled, "Yah."

 

On the other end of the line, the man's words were short and to the point. "Do what you have to do. She knows!"

 

The line went dead.

 

Antonio dropped his phone as his head sank into the pillow. He pulled a .38 Special out from under the other bed pillow. His smile was sinister as he caressed the barrel. His lips brushed against the metal. "Guess we've got a job to do."

 

In the darkness, he pointed the gun and mouthed, "Bang."

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy
Bill Cohen - friend of Alyssa and psychiatrist
Antonio - a childhood friend


Chapter 6
Living On The Edge - Chap 6

By Begin Again

 

Hundreds of people dodged in and out of the traffic on the bustling streets of New York City, either crossing from one place to another or hailing a cab. The taxi drivers were in a hurry, darting in and out, slamming on their brakes, and narrowly missing whatever impeded their way. It was the highly anticipated Fashion Designer Week, where neon signs and bright lights illuminated the windows of the towering buildings. The Square sparkled in every color known to man, yet tonight, it paled compared to the parties and celebrations inside every restaurant, banquet hall, and lounge in the city.

 

Franchesco's, a renowned Italian restaurant, hosted this year's belle of the ball, fashion designer Layla Saladino and her steady beau, Ryan Benson, a rising star in the financial world. Layla's collection took the buyers by storm with unexpected style and glam. After years of hard work and dreaming of success, tonight, she had the blessing of celebrating her runway victory and her birthday.

 

The excitement and levity were high as the night progressed, and the Italian food was magnificent. Champagne bottles popped, and the liquor flowed freely. It was a night to celebrate their triumphs.

 

Carrying a two-tiered birthday cake topped with sparklers, three waitresses dressed in crisp black-and-white uniforms approached Layla's table of twelve, singing, "Happy Birthday to you."

 

Amidst the shouts of "Cheers" and "Happy Birthday," Ryan stood up, smiling, and raised his champagne glass high in the air, shouting over the noise, "A toast to the birthday girl, my gorgeous Layla." His left hand held a small blue jewelry box.

 

Layla's eyes sparkled under the chandeliers, and she blushed and gasped in surprise. "Oh, my! We've been working so hard, I forgot it was my birthday."

 

Diane laughed and hugged her best friend. "Layla, sweetie, I can't believe we pulled something over on you. So, it was a surprise?"

Ryan stood on the other side of her. Layla felt his soft lips brush her cheek. He whispered in her ear, "And I have one last surprise of my own."

 

Layla didn't care for surprises. The cake and singing had exceeded her quota for the year, but she'd laughed and smiled. These people had worked long hours and extremely hard to achieve today's achievement. They deserved to celebrate. And celebrate, she would.

 

However, Ryan's surprise felt wrong. He was analytical and constantly worried about the numbers and the next big deal. Lately, she felt their relationship was based on the stock market. If it were up, he would be busy selling behind closed doors and arrive late for dinner. If it was down, he might not even arrive at all, or it would be well into the night. His absence had given her more free time to produce today's winning show if she admitted it. A blessing!

 

Layla suddenly felt uncomfortable at her own party. She shifted her eyes from Ryan to Diane and back to Ryan. Her mind was racing, and then there it was.

 

She recognized the little blue box, and a warm pink flush crept into the birthday girl's cheeks, bringing a tidal wave of panic with it. Her thoughts were racing so fast that they were crashing into each other. Not here, not now, Ryan! She needed time — to think, to decide, to escape.

 

She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair clear of the table. Her hand knocked against her champagne glass, spilling the bubbly liquid across the table. The embarrassment heightened her anxiety.

 

Flustered, her eyes darted toward Diane as she whispered, "Cover for me."

 

For the table, she added, "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I'm that clumsy." Her trembling hand brushed champagne from her dress. "Excuse me."

 

Without another word, she wove her way through the tables while patrons at other tables yelled Happy Birthday and Congratulations to her. She nodded, smiled, and kept moving. The pounding in her head left no room for their congratulating words.

 

*****

 

"Diane, what just happened?" Dumbfounded, Ryan stared at Layla's retreat.

 

"I'm not sure, Ryan. The entire day has been overwhelming. She might need a moment to catch her breath."

 

The table was quiet. None of their friends knew what to say. The devastated look on Ryan's face said it all. "Maybe I should go after her."

 

"It's going to be alright, Ryan." Diane squeezed his arm. "Let me. You, Ryan Stapleton, are responsible for keeping this party going." She handed him his glass of champagne and announced, "A toast" as she retreated from the table.

 

*****

 

Layla leaned against the sink, bracing herself. She couldn't stop the trembling.

 

Diana pushed the door open and entered the room, rushing to her friend's side. "Are you alright? What happened out there?"

 

Layla shrugged. "The birthday girl certainly made a fool of herself. Spilling champagne everywhere. I looked like an idiot."

 

"You know better than that, Layla. Accidents happen. So, you spilled a little champagne—no big deal—except it was the expensive stuff."

 

Layla couldn't help but smile. "You're adorable. Who else in our crowd would think about the cost?"

 

"Maybe that's why I work in finance. Cost control?" Diane smiled at her friend. "Come on. Give me a hug."

 

Layla sighed and hugged her friend before she spoke, "I think Ryan was going to propose. He had a blue ring box."

 

Watching Layla in the mirror, Diane fixed her lipstick before answering. "That should be worth celebrating, right?"

 

Layla stared at her reflection and shrugged. "I—" She turned and leaned against the wall, mumbling, "I don't know."

 

Layla's behavior shocked Diane, and her jaw dropped in surprise. After a moment, she regained her composure and said, "Girlfriend, you have been dating Ryan for almost a year. It's the obvious next step, isn't it?" She turned the water on, flicking her fingers under the tap. "And his career is skyrocketing. You certainly won't have to worry about money."

 

Layla raised her eyebrow and scowled, her expression conveying a mixture of frustration and anger. "I can't believe you said that. You, of all people, should know I don't care about the money." She paused and looked in the mirror at the face staring back at her. "Honestly, I don't think I am ready to marry Ryan or anyone else. I like my independence."

 

"There's nothing wrong with that, but you make marriage sound like a death sentence. Every girl at our table would jump for joy to be in your shoes, not hiding in the bathroom."

 

"I know, but I can't help how I feel. He should know better than to spring something so important on me in a crowd."

 

"Well, he didn't. What's done is done. So, Miss Genius, what's the plan because you can't hide in here all night?"

 

A knock at the door stopped Layla from answering.

 

"Layla, honey, are you alright?" Ryan felt awkward talking to the bathroom door, especially since it was the women's bathroom. He checked the corridor before speaking again. "Layla, what's going on? It was just some spilled champagne. Our guests are freaking out."

 

Diane whispered, "He's not going away. You've got to tell him something."

 

"You tell him."

 

"Me? He's not about to propose to me. What do you want me to say?"

 

Layla pressed her face into her hands, thinking, "I can't go out there right now. I need a minute. Just tell him — tell him I'm fine."

 

Diane didn't understand what was going through her friend's mind, but she moved to the door and cracked it open. "She's okay, Ryan."

 

"I'm coming in." He put his hand on the door.

 

Diane glanced over her shoulder at Layla, her head shaking back and forth wildly. She needed to do something.

 

She turned back to look at a frustrated Ryan, her face scrunched in a lopsided smile. "No, you can't. She's naked."

 

"I've seen her naked, Diane. Let me in."

 

Diane pressed her side against the door, hoping to restrain him. "It's — it's her dress. You know how Layla is about her designs. It's her night to shine, and she's ruined one of her creations. She just needs a moment."

 

Before Ryan could object, a phone rang. It was Layla's phone.

 

Layla muttered, "That's Alyssa's ring." She patted the seams of her dress. "I know I put a tiny side pocket for my phone, but where is it?" Her nervous fingers found the slit and retrieved the phone. "You and Ryan go back to the table. I'll talk to her and be out in a few. I promise!"

 

Diane inhaled and exhaled loudly before opening the door and charging into Ryan. He stumbled backward into the wall. She grabbed his arm and tugged. "Come on, sport! Let's go get some more of that champagne."

 

"But —" Still confused, he looked at the door and then back at Diane. "What about Layla? Shouldn't I stay?"

 

"Nonsense. She's a big girl." She slipped her arm through his and smiled. "Layla needs a little girl time to talk to Alyssa. In case you haven't noticed, her sister not being home hasn't set well with her. Let them have a chat, and she'll join us in a few minutes."

 

Still not convinced, Ryan allowed Diane to lead him back to their table.

 

*****

 

Layla answered her phone, eager to tell her sister everything about today except about Ryan. She'd save that for another day. As she answered the video call, Allie appeared to be focused on something across the room.

 

Laughing, Layla teased, "Hey, Allie, it's the birthday girl! Are you calling to rub in the fact I'm another year older?"

 

At the sound of her sister's voice, Alyssa turned her head to face her. "Happy Birthday, Sis. Sorry. I thought someone rattled my door. I took a quick nap. Must have a little brain fog. How's the birthday girl? And the fashion show? I want to hear it all. Don't leave out a single detail."

 

"I wish you were here, Allie. It's been the best day ever. And now we're celebrating with champagne and yummy food at Franchesco's. Oh, and a two-tiered birthday cake with sparklers."

 

"I'm jealous." Scowling, Alyssa turned to look at the door again. "Sis, give me a second to see what's going on in the hall."

 

Before she could move, the door swung open, slamming against the entrance wall. A blood-curdling scream throttled Alyssa's throat as a man charged toward her. She could see the white cotton in his hand. Chloroform!

 

Turning toward the phone, she yelled, "Layla! He's going to kill me."

 

The phone went dead.

 

Layla slumped to the floor, sobbing. The last vision was her sister's eyes filled with fear and a hand covering her mouth. Although Layla couldn't see his face, the image of the tattoo of a cross and a serpent between his thumb and pointer finger was seared into her brain permanently.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy
Bill Cohen - friend of Alyssa and psychiatrist
Antonio - a childhood friend
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister
Ryan - Layla's boyfriend
Diane - Layla's best friend


Chapter 7
Living On The Edge - Chap 7

By Begin Again

 

CHAPTER 7

 

Alyssa's twisted body lay motionless on the floor. Her peasant blouse was torn and splattered with blood. She hadn't gone down without a fight, something Antonio hadn't expected. Her manicured nails had left their mark on his face. He'd returned the favor by plowing his fist into her jaw. She had fallen backward, hitting her head against the clawfoot of an armoire, knocking her unconscious. He'd used the chloroform anyhow. It's better to be safe than sorry with this wild one.

 

Antonio cocked his thumb and forefinger so it resembled a gun and pressed it against her temple. "Should have shot you, bitch!" He touched his face and winced. "Boss said it was too much noise. I coulda used a silencer, but no, orders are orders."

 

Antonio squatted beside her, caressing her exposed breast. He felt a stirring in his jeans, and he grinned. "Hmmm - maybe this calls for a pit stop before I deposit your body somewhere no one will find it. After all, I'm doing all the work. I deserve a little something." Antonio pressed his hand against his throbbing muscle. "Yeah, little wild cat, I'm going to give you a lasting memory and then blow your brains out."

 

*****

 

Layla sobbed and gulped for air in between her cries for her sister. "Allie! Allie! You can't be dead!"

 

A woman entered the bathroom and gasped, "Oh, my God! You're the fashion designer! Do you need help?"

 

Layla scrambled to her feet, desperate to make everything disappear. "I'm sorry — I'll be fine." Without any further explanation, she escaped the bathroom and raced down the hall toward the rear of the building, leaving the woman stunned.

 

*****

 

As she neared the end of the hall, she found an unlocked storage room and slipped inside. In the dark, she frantically searched through her contacts until she found Tyler Chadwick. She pushed the call button and waited.

 

"Detective Chadwick's office."

 

Layla hadn't expected someone else to answer. She struggled to speak, "It's an emergency. Can I please talk to Detective Chadwick?"

 

"Ma'am, if this is an emergency, you need to call 911."

 

Layla lost all control and screamed into her phone, "No, I need to talk to Tyler. Now!"

 

Sensing the caller was unstable and behaving erratically, she changed her tactic and yelled across the office, "See if you can catch Tyler. He's on his way out. Tell him to rush." Returning to the phone, her voice was calmer. "Miss, someone is trying to catch Tyler. He was on his way out. I'd be happy to help."

 

Sobbing, Layla stammered, "My sis— ter's — been mur — dered."

 

Flushed from running up two flights of stairs, Tyler entered his office and stopped in the doorway. He bent over and took several deep breaths until he was able to speak. "What's the emergency?"

 

The officer handed him the phone. "Woman says her sister's been murdered. She wants to speak with you, and only you."

 

He grabbed the phone and spoke, "Detective Tyler Chadwick."

 

Fighting back her tears, when she heard his voice, she stammered, "Tyler, —it's Lay —la. I need —your —help. Some — one just mur — dered — my — sister."

 

"Layla, I need you to calm down. I can't understand you. Are you trying to tell me something has happened to Allie?"

 

"Yes!"

 

"Where are you? Is Allie with you?"

 

"No! She's not! Just meet me — behind Franchesco's. Please hurry."

 

"I'll be there in ten."

 

*****

 

Layla searched for a place to sit using the flashlight on her phone. Spotting a utility sink, she turned on the water, splashed her face, and wiped it on a towel. She saw a stool nearby and hurried to sit down. Back in control, she placed her next call to Diane.

 

Diane hissed into the phone as she answered, "Where the hell are you? You're missing your birth —"

 

Layla interrupted, "Diane, just listen. Something has happened to Allie. Tyler's picking me up in a few minutes."

 

Diane turned her back away from the others, lowering her voice, she asked, "What's going on?"

 

"I can't talk now. Give me fifteen minutes, and then tell Ryan I've left. I promise to tell you later, but I need to go right now."

 

"But, Layla —" The phone went dead.

 

*****

 

Layla peeked out the storage room door, checked for anyone loitering in the hallway, and then rushed toward the back door.

 

She spotted Tyler's squad car entering the alley. As soon as he stopped beside her, she climbed in. "Can we go somewhere else? I don't want anyone coming out and looking for me."

 

Tyler put his car in gear and drove out of the parking lot, shooting side glances at his passenger. "A friend of mine has a food truck near the park. We can park there and grab a coffee unless you'd prefer somewhere else."

 

"No, that's fine."

 

He reached across the seat and found her trembling hand. "Layla, you're upset. What were you trying to tell me about Allie?"

 

"Is that the food truck?" She pointed out the windshield. "I need a minute."

 

Tyler nodded as he pulled along the curb. "I'll get the coffee, and then we'll talk."

 

Tyler and Layla had known each other since grade school. He was a friend of one of her cousins and saw her often. As they grew older, they became close friends. He'd seen her pictures on the news and knew tonight should have been a one-of-a-kind evening for her. He couldn't imagine what could have happened.

 

*****

 

With steaming coffee and warm chocolate chip cookies in hand, Tyler returned to the car. Once situated, he looked across at her. It pained him that she was crying. "Take your time, but whenever you're ready, I'll listen."

 

Choking on her tears, she looked away. "I'm sorry to dump this on you, Tyler, but I didn't know what to do."

 

"We've been friends for a long time. If I can help, you know I will."

 

Sniffling, she began, "I think Allie's in trouble." She gulped and shivered. "She — she might be dead."

 

"Dead! What are you talking about?" Tyler put his coffee in the cupholder and reached for her hand. "Why? What happened that makes you think something has happened to Allie?"

 

"She called — I thought it was a birthday call. But I could tell she was distracted when I answered. We were on video chat. She kept looking at the door. Someone broke in." Overwhelmed, Layla sobbed, "She screamed. I saw — I saw a man's hand cover her mouth and yank her away from her phone."

 

"Anything else? Did you see his face?"

 

"No, it happened so fast. I think he had a white cloth in his hand."

 

"He might have used chloroform. Close your eyes and think, Layla. Was there anything else that might help us identify this guy?"

 

"Wait! I can't believe I forgot this." She grabbed Tyler's arm. "He had a tattoo. On his hand."

 

"That's good. Do you remember what it was?"

 

"I only saw it for a split second."

 

"Come on, Layla. I need you to think. Picture the hand and the tattoo. Can you see it?"

 

"Yes, it was a cross, wood, I think. And a snake was wrapped around it."

 

"That's terrific. It's not his face, but it definitely is a good clue. Where's Allie living? I lost track of what she's been doing."

 

"She's a reporter in Rockford, near Chicago."

 

"Rockford? I've got a college buddy who's with the department over there. I'll give him a call. Someone should be able to check her place out."

 

Layla murmured, "Thank you." Maybe they'd find Allie and she'd be okay.

 

*****

 

Antonio moved his car into the alley, opened the trunk, and hurried inside to the service elevator. He released the lock and bent down to pick up Alyssa's body. Pain shot through his head as darkness enveloped him.

 

"Lights out, buddy."

 

"Is she alive?"

 

"Yes, but someone banged her up good. She must have put up a fight."

 

"Can I have the pleasure of killing this bastard here and now?"

 

"No, this is an in-and-out job. The girl goes to the sanitarium. That one goes back to the house. Let's get them out of here. Junk the car in a cornfield somewhere out of town. And remember, we don't talk about this to anyone. Understood?"

 

*****

 

Layla had crashed at Diane's house, refusing to take any calls from Ryan. She needed to remain focused on Allie and nothing else. She was up, dressed, and headed to the police station by seven.

 

At eight o'clock, she found herself pacing Tyler Chadwick's office.

 

"My sister is not a missing person. Did you tell your friend what I saw? What kind of cop do they have running the show?"

 

"Layla, calm down. I got off the phone with Richard fifteen minutes ago. He said they couldn't find any evidence of a crime. Her apartment wasn't ransacked and there isn't a body."

 

"Did you tell him about the tattoo?"

 

"I did. Richard said they are tracking every lead, but nothing is popping up."

 

"Every lead? What about her job? She's a reporter. Can't someone track that down?" Layla grabbed Tyler's arm. "We've got to do something. If Alyssa could, she'd have answered my calls or at the very least called me back."

 

"I met Richard in college. He is a good guy. I'm sure he's doing his best. With nothing to go on, they've listed her as a missing person."

 

"I can't sit here without knowing. If the police cannot find out what happened, I will."

 

"Layla, you're just upset. Everyone is trying to find her. I'm sure she'll show up today with a logical explanation."

 

"Tyler, I know my sister. And I know what I saw. If telling me she's listed as a missing person is the best they can do — well, it's not good enough."

 

She slammed his office door and stormed through the outer office. Outside, she dug her phone out of her purse, found the number she needed, and dialed.

 

"United Airlines, how may I assist you?"

 

"I need the earliest flight available from New York City to Rockford, Illinois."

 

"There are no direct flights, I'm afraid. But I do have a flight to Chicago leaving this evening. You could rent a car and drive to Rockford. It's about ninety miles north of the airport. Would that work for you?"

 

"Yes, it will. My name is Layla Saladino and I need to book a first-class ticket."

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister
Ryan - Layla's boyfriend
Diane - Layla's best friend


Chapter 8
Living on the Edge - Chap 8

By Begin Again

 

CHAPTER 8

 

"Ciao Amico! Welcome to our humble home." Sammy greeted Antonio with a grin.

 

"Where am I?" Antonio rubbed the knot on the back of his head. "I— don't know you. This must be some mistake."

 

"True, we've not met personally, but I assure you, this is no mistake." Sammy nodded to the two men standing directly behind Antonio. "Show our friend to the study. Maybe he'd like a drink—some whiskey, perhaps."

 

The two men, each with one of Antonio's arms, escorted him to the next room and shoved him unceremoniously into a chair.

 

"Hey, take it easy. One of you goons already put a goose egg on my head." Antonio mustered a fresh shot of macho. "Watch how you handle the merchandise, okay? I know people —" His voice trailed off as one of the guys put his face close to his.

 

Sammy poured three glasses of whiskey, handed one to Antonio, set one on the desk, and kept the other. "So, you know people. Care to enlighten me on who these people are? Did you make a pact with your people, or is that not required by them?" Sammy swirled the brown liquor around and around, then smiled and took a drink. "My employer believes in pacts but also believes they can be broken."

 

Antonio threw back the whiskey and looked around the mahogany study with its fine pieces of Italian art. Sweat beads popped up across his forehead, and his stomach knotted. He recognized the picture of an Italian woman hanging on the wall.

 

Sammy enjoyed watching Antonio squirm. It had been a while since he'd had the opportunity to watch someone sweat. He poured another whiskey and handed it to him. "Antonio, you've been very bad. My employer has turned a blind eye to your, shall we say, seedy business until tonight."

 

"Whoa! You've got this all wrong. It's not my business. I'm just at the bottom of the food chain. Cleaning up the streets, so to speak."

 

"So, my friend, you are in the janitorial business!" The voice spoke from across the room. Antonio had not heard anyone enter, and his head snapped around. His eyes met the familiar dark eyes of Frank Divito.

 

"Frankie, it's so good to see you. Tell these guys they made a mistake."

 

"Cut the crap, Antonio. You messed up, big time."

 

"Messed up? It was a minor mistake."

 

Frank crossed the room and sat in the leather chair behind the desk. "A mistake? Hmmm- and whose mistake was it?" He picked up the glass Sammy had left him.

 

"I — I was just following orders. You know how that is, right?" Antonio felt the heat rising around his shirt collar as he wiped his brow. "Frankie, you, me, we're paisanos. We go back in the day, remember?"

 

"I do remember, Antonio, but your janitor crew has crossed the line. This woman you took tonight — correct me if I'm mistaken — didn't work the streets, did she?

 

Antonio gulped, stressing to find a way out. "She — she did, Frankie. She was working the crowd at Tipsy's Tavern the other night."

 

"You're slipping, Ant. You know, and I know that she's a cop."

 

"No! No! You're wrong. I didn't know she was a cop. Why would I kill a cop?" Antonio slugged back the remaining whiskey.

 

"Pour him another, Sammy. He's going to need it."

 

Antonio's eyes widened as they darted from Frankie to Sammy and then to the two muscle guys standing near the bookcase. He needed to think fast. "I'll leave town. You'll never see me again, I promise."

 

Frankie nodded, "That's a good idea, but first, I need you to tell me about this little business. Then you'll call your boss, the guy who ordered you to do a clean-up job on Alyssa."

 

"I — I can't."

 

"Sure, you can."

 

"They'll kill me." From the corner of his eye, Antonio saw the two men walking toward him. "Frankie, we're friends, remember? And the pact, sticking together."

 

He felt the cold steel barrel against the back of his head. "Frankie," he said, rubbing the cross on his hand. "Remember the tattoo?"

 

"You're a low-life, Antonio. You stalk prostitutes and kill them. At least they are out of their misery. What interests me is the ones who disappear. Who's taking them, and where are they going? The FBI is sniffing around and shifting the blame in my direction. I'm no angel, but I'm not in the business of selling women."

 

"Neither am I. Honest!" The gun against his head sent chills down his spine. "It's not me."

 

"Aaahh! But you know who is, don't you?"

 

"No! You gotta believe me —"

 

Frankie stood and stared across the desk at the desperate man sitting there. "Get rid of him."

 

"Nooooo! Frankie!" Antonio screamed and tried to stand, but two huge hands on his shoulders forced him back into the chair.

 

"Start talking."

 

"I'm on a need-to-know, so I deal with just one guy. He tells me who to knock off and which to deliver to the warehouse. What happens after that's not my business." He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't ask."

 

"The man's name?"

 

"It's Tommy — Tommy Yankovich."

 

Frankie picked up the phone from his desk and handed it to Antonio. "Now, listen closely. You'll call this Tommy guy and tell him the girl got away. You'll tell him you saw her enter St. Peter's Church."

 

"With Father Williams?"

 

"Aah! Do you and Terry keep in touch?" Frankie laughed. "Or do you go there to confess your evil doings?"

 

"I just know it's his church."

 

"It doesn't matter. I'll tell him you said hello. Now make the call."

 

*****

 

The United flight arrived on time, and Layla's exit from the airport was smooth and uneventful. She'd dozed off once or twice during the two-and-a-half-hour trip but still didn't relish the drive to Rockford. Her rental car was waiting, and the helpful attendant had set the GPS after she provided Alyssa's address. She put her suitcase in the trunk, slid behind the wheel, and exited the airport.

 

From a safe distance, an unmarked car followed her out of the airport onto I-90.

 

*****

 

Layla parked her car in a lot across the street, paid the attendant, and retrieved her suitcase from the trunk. Traffic was minimal as she crossed over and stood in front of Alyssa's apartment. She'd laughed at her sister when she'd given her the spare key since they were miles apart, but now she was grateful.

 

Her nerves heightened as she climbed the stairs and opened the front door, putting her suitcase inside. She shivered as her eyes scanned the room. Everything seemed in place just like the police had told Tyler. There didn't appear to be any sign of a struggle.

 

"It can't be! I know what I saw. I know you, Allie. You would have fought."

 

Layla stopped and touched the picture on the desk. It was one of her favorites of her and Allie on a beach vacation. She sighed and moved toward the bedroom.

 

"Come on, Allie. Give me something. There must be a clue telling me who did this."

 

She checked the nightstand drawers but found nothing unusual. Just lotions, a candy bar, and a James Paterson book. Layla picked it up and opened the pages. She laughed, "I doubt you've turned a page, Sis. Crooks and crime wouldn't suit you."

 

Replacing the items in the drawer, she moved to the closet. "Okay, Allie, I know there won't be any designer outfits, but please tell me you wear professional business suits to work, something other than those holey jeans."

 

She swung open the doors and gasped at the row of evening gowns and silk see-thru blouses hanging inside. Lifting out a sexy red satin gown, she mumbled, "Oh, my God, Allie, what have you gotten yourself into?" Collapsing on the bed, Layla buried her face into the dress, terrified.

 

*****

 

Richard Harrison parked his squad car in a no-parking zone, turned on his lights, and climbed the steps to Alyssa's apartment. The tail he'd had waiting at the airport had notified him of her arrival. His irritation with Layla's decision to come to Rockford showed as he knocked on the door.

 

Startled, Layla tossed the dress aside and returned to the front room. She peered through the peephole. All she could see was a man's suit.

 

He knocked again.

 

Layla opened the door. "Can I help you?"

 

"Detective Harrison, ma'am. Well, as of a few weeks ago, I'm the Chief of Police." He stepped across the threshold, hoping to intimidate her. She moved aside and let him enter.

 

Layla glared at him. "Detective — Chief — whatever your title, what can I do for you? Have you found my sister or know what happened to her?"

 

"No. The neighbors reported suspicious activity, and I was in the vicinity. Are you aware this is a crime scene?"

 

"I'm Layla Saladino, and this is my sister's apartment."

 

"I know who you are, Ms. Saladino. You're a friend of Detective Tyler Chadwick, who asked us to investigate a missing person's case."

 

Exhausted from the events in the last twenty-four hours, the flight and discovering her sister's closet lined with evening dresses, Layla snapped, "MISSING PERSON? I saw a man place his hand over my sister's mouth and drag her away from the phone. She was terrified and screaming that he was going to kill her. Sounds more like attempted murder — or worse to me."

 

"We've not found any evidence of foul play. Nothing was found here, nor anywhere else, I am afraid. Look around. Do you see any sign of a struggle?"

 

"What kind of police department are you running?"

 

"A good one, ma'am. Our evidence consists of your version of a phone conversation. No friends or business acquaintances have reported her missing. As far as we know, she took a vacation. There's nothing else unless you have more to add."

 

Layla stares past Harrison in thought. "No — No, I don't."

 

"Tyler's a good friend, and I don't mean to insult you or your family, but if you check your sister's closets, you might learn a few things. Her clothes led me to believe she was living on the wrong side of the tracks if you get my meaning."

 

"I saw the clothes. If you are insinuating my sister was a prostitute, you are crazy. She was a reporter, working undercover."

 

"Hmmm.... I'm sorry, but we haven't found anyone who will collaborate on that story either. Is it possible your sister was lying to you?"

 

"Lying to me? How dare you! You need to leave my home. My sister is not a prostitute. If you can't find her, I will!"

 

"For your safety and your sister's, you need to go home and let the police handle the investigation. You're a fashion designer, not a detective."

 

"Investigation? It doesn't sound like an investigation to me. In case you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself without your advice."

 

Layla opened the door and leaned against it. "Well, Mr. Harrison, maybe it takes a woman to show you how to do your job! Thank you for stopping by, but I've just traveled from New York and would like to rest. Please call me if you stumble across any information on Allie. Goodbye."

 

*****

 

"Who does that bitch think she is? Maybe that's how they talk to law enforcement in New York, but I'm not taking any of her guff."

 

Richard Harrison walked toward his car, stopped to look toward the apartment, and then slid behind the wheel, making a phone call.

 

"Meet me at Lenny's Cafe in fifteen."

 

*****

 

Antonio took the phone from Frankie and dialed Tommy's number.

 

"Don't mess it up, Antonio,"

 

"I won't. Frankie."

 

"Keep the gun on him." Frankie chuckled, "Just insurance, Antonio, you know how it is in business. Can't trust anyone like we did in the old days."

 

Tommy answered on the fourth ring. "Hello."

 

"Tommy, it's Antonio."

 

"It's about time."

 

"I ran into a little problem."

 

"PROBLEM! I send you to do a job, and you're going to tell me you ran into a little problem. Did you pop the girl or not?"

 

"No, but listen, I know where she is." Antonio shifted his eyes up to meet Frank's. "She ran inside St. Peter's, the church on Jefferson and Main. You want me to go after her?"

 

"No! I'll take care of it myself. You know the boss isn't going to like this. If I was you, I think I'd disappear, if you know what I mean."

 

"Yeah, sure thing, Tommy."

 

Frankie took the phone from Antonio, placed it on the desk, and walked toward the door. "Be seeing you, Antonio."

 

"But what about me?"

 

His answer was the crack of a bullet into his head.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Ryan - Layla's boyfriend
Diane - Layla's best friend
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend


Chapter 9
Living On The Edge - Chap 9

By Begin Again

 

 

CHAPTER 9

 

"Give it a good cleaning, Manny. Can't have the Chief of Police driving around in a dirty squad car, can we?"

 

"Not to worry, Chief. Manny will take good care of you."

 

Three blocks from Lenny's Cafe, where Richard was headed, there was a car wash and detail business, a good place to hide his car. He decided it was better not to have his car sit in the parking lot while meeting Marcos.

 

After a brisk walk through the alleys, he entered through the back door into a private room off the kitchen area. Marcos entered a few minutes later, wearing a hoodie over his head. He closed the door behind him and slid into the booth.

 

"Thanks for coming on such a short notice."

 

"No problem. I don't forget that I owe you my life."

 

"One hand washes the other, right?" Richard smiled.

 

"True, but when a guy is staring down the barrel of a gun, saying his prayers, and the crack of a gun firing doesn't send a bullet through his head. That's something. I couldn't believe he was dead instead of me."

 

A tap at the door stops their conversation. A young girl cracks the door. "Are you ready for lunch, sir?"

 

Richard nodded, and she entered. She sat two cheeseburger baskets with fries and two mugs of beer on the table. She smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

 

"Hope you don't mind. I took the liberty and ordered before you got here."

 

"Always one step ahead. So, I don't figure you asked to meet me because you wanted to reminisce. What's up?"

 

"I've got a job for you."

 

Marcos didn't hesitate. "Just tell me what you need."

 

"Did you hear that Troy Sinclair got released from prison?"

 

"Yes, I've heard rumblings. Some thought he deserved to rot there."

 

"Well, he's out and damned determined to prove his innocence." Richard raised his beer mug to his lips and drank a long, cold swallow. He looked at Marcos. "That can't happen."

 

"Understood. No need to explain. So, do you want me to cap him in some back alley?"

 

"No, here's where it gets complicated. I haven't seen him around, which makes me nervous. I've also got a missing person case that he's tied to, and I need to pin her death on him."

 

"Who's the missing person?"

 

"A newbie. A friend of Sandra's who wants to avenge her friend's murder. The case is closed, and I want it to stay that way."

 

"I'm listening. You got a plan on how you'd like this to go down?"

 

"I've got a dress belonging to the missing person and a bracelet. I need her body burnt beyond recognition with just enough DNA lying around. Perhaps a struggle occurred, resulting in the dress getting caught on a bush and the bracelet as well. I'll give you an engraved watch that belonged to Sinclair's father. She could have ripped it off, or he dropped it in the struggle. The where and when is up to you, but soon."

 

"What if Sinclair surfaces? That going to cause a problem?"

 

"Don't worry about him. He's an ex-con, and I've got the perfect judge who would be happy to send him back to prison."

 

"And the clothing and jewelry?"

 

"I'll leave the items in box 212 at the post office on Marchesano. Here's the key. If you get this done, Marcos, I guarantee you a cushy job in the organization."

 

"That's right. I heard you might run for mayor sometime."

 

"Soon, my friend. Stick with me, and we're going places."

*****

Chief Harrison's impromptu visit had set Layla on edge. She needed a starting point, a plan.

 

She started with her place of employment, the local newspaper. Sitting at Alyssa's desk, she placed the call and asked for Human Resources. After arguing with one clerk, she asked to be transferred to another., hoping for better answers.

 

"You must be mistaken. Your paper hired my sister, Alyssa Saladino. She was a reporter doing an undercover story."

 

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I wish I could help you. Like I told the police, we do not have any records of Alyssa Saladino ever working for us, undercover or not."

 

Frustrated, Layla hung up and angrily threw a pillow across the room, knocking a picture off the wall. There was an envelope taped to the back. The words "Murder Suspect" were printed in large bold letters by someone.

 

Layla stood over the envelope, staring as if it were a snake ready to strike. Finally, she forced herself to kneel and pick it up. Trembling, she opened the envelope and dumped its contents on the table.

 

Newspaper clippings of murdered prostitutes

 

A photo with several prostitutes — a circle around the woman in red

 

Several pictures of a knife

 

A cloudy picture of a man in a dark bar — ball cap on his head and drink in hand and a bar sign on the wall

 

A closeup of the man's right hand — he has a tattoo (a cross and a serpent)

 

Layla gasped and dropped the photo. "Oh, God, that's the tattoo. That's the man I know it is. Allie, what were you involved in? Where are you? And why do you have this instead of the police?"

*****

Tommy stood in the shadows of the church, smoking a cigarette. The parking lot was empty. A young couple walked by with their dog. A black and white rolled down the street. He stepped deeper into the shadows, grinding his cigarette into the dirt, and waited.

 

He needed to find the girl. Antonio had screwed up, but the responsibility would fall on him. He knew what the consequences would be, and he didn't like the thought of it. His life was on the line.

 

He scanned the area again. It was quiet. Maybe no one knew what had happened yet. He shouldn't have trusted Antonio to do the job, but he'd worked side by side with Alyssa. She hadn't made the connection yet, but he'd had no doubt she would in time, especially after finding the pictures. He needed to finish it, and Antonio said she was in the church.

 

He tightened the belt on his black trench coat and tipped the matching fedora down over his eyes. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he walked to the rectory door and stepped inside. Father Terry Williams hung up the telephone and turned around to see Tommy walking toward him.

 

The priest wasn't happy to see him. "What are you doing here, Tommy? I told you not to come back."

 

Tommy tipped his hat back to look into the priest's eyes. He grinned. "Can't a parishioner stop by for a friendly visit, Father?"

 

"Your visits are never friendly. You always want something."

 

"I'm crushed. Growing up, we were inseparable. Then you went holier than thou on me. Are you too good for me, Father?"

 

"You chose your path, and I chose mine." Terry turned to walk away. "I'm busy, and you need to leave. Real parishioners will be coming for evening prayer. I doubt you want to be seen."

 

"You act so high and mighty in your robes, Terry, but we're blood. We had the same slut for a mother."

 

"She had a tough life. Who are we to judge? Remember, the Lord tells us to honor our mother and our father."

 

"You expect me to honor a man I never knew and a woman who slept with every man she could? Women like her don't deserve to walk the face of this earth."

 

"Father, please forgive him." Terry made the sign of the cross on his chest.

 

Tommy laughed. "Maybe I should stay for your prayer session. Might find a few dollars in the donation basket."

 

"Get out!"

 

"Not just yet. Give me what I want, and I'll go."

 

"I've got nothing you want."

 

"Are you sure? I'm looking for a girl. I was told you might be hiding her here in the church."

 

"You're mistaken, Tommy. There's no one here but you and me. Now leave."

 

"I'll leave, but remember, I know about your past. I know the real person under those robes."

 

"And you are a dirty cop, trading women for cash."

 

"Whores, not decent women."

 

"Tommy, hate fills your soul. Put an end to this craziness before you find yourself lying on a cold slab in the morgue."

 

Tommy sighed. "You don't understand. Antonio botched a job. If I don't fix it, I'm dead. You're my brother and a priest. I need your help."

 

"I can't help you, Tommy. She's not here. You can check for yourself if you want to."

 

"You've lost your soft side when it comes to me." He growled. "I tried to ask nicely. Now, give me the girl, or another broad is going to get killed. Her blood will be on your hands." Tommy stepped closer to Terry, poking his finger against his chest. "You can stop it. Just give me the girl."

 

'I don't have her, Tommy. I'm sorry."

 

"When you read the papers tomorrow, remember you could have prevented it." Tommy moved toward the door, then stopped and tossed a few dollars on the floor. "Light a candle for Mama."

 

Laughing, he left through the rectory door.

 

*****

Father Williams slid the bolt across as the rectory door closed and turned the lock. "You can come out now, Jake. He's gone."

 

The door of the confessional swung open, and Jake stepped out. "You okay, Terry?"

 

The Priest nodded and sat in one of the pews. "Did you get what you needed?"

 

Jake waved his phone. "This little device has enough to put Tommy away, but I need more." He sat in the row behind Terry. "Any idea why he thinks the girl is here? Her sister flew in from New York and has Richard hopping mad. He's trying to play it cool with the missing person thing, but I don't think he knows where she is either."

 

"Tommy said Antonio botched a job. Did he take the girl?"

 

"He might have, but then what happened? Somehow, the girl is missing, and I don't know who has her or if she's dead."

 

Jake's phone rang.

 

"Sorry, Father, I need to get this." He stepped away and answered, "Hello." He could hear honky tonk music playing.

 

"Jake, this is Hank, the bartender at Tipsy's. I've got a woman sitting at the bar, nursing a martini. She matches the picture you left here."

 

Jake scowled. "I owe you one, Hank. Keep an eye on her till I get there, okay?"

 

"Not a problem. Glad I could help."

 

Jake ended the call and called out to Father Williams who was at the alter. "I got to go. Duty calls. Be careful, Terry. Call me if Tommy comes back around, okay?"

 

*****

 

After a quick change of clothes, Jake entered the Tipsy Tavern. The jukebox was blasting out a country song. He scanned the bar and saw her sitting near the end. He'd expected jeans and a shirt or maybe a peasant dress. He couldn't have been more wrong.

 

As he approached her, he couldn't help but admire her beauty. Layla had chosen one of Allie's outfits. It was a red floor-length dress with a plunging neckline. It fit all the right curves of her slim body. It was obvious to Jake that she'd come to play, but he knew she wasn't aware of the high stakes. She was desperate and would react without thinking. A dangerous combination.

 

She stirred her martini, ignoring the men surrounding her. She had no idea she was a beauty, asking for trouble. Her thoughts were centered on understanding Alyssa's last few days.

 

"Okay, sis, I don't know if you were an undercover reporter or not, but you were into something deep. You put on one of your dresses and came to the bar. What then? If this was your idea of a good time, I understand why you left New York. But dressing sexy and exposing yourself to an unknown male who is murdering women, I'm not getting a clear picture. What did you hope to discover? Didn't you worry about your safety? Or did you have someone working with you? Allie, I am so out of my league."

 

A thick drawl distracted her, "Hey, pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?"

 

Layla turned sideways and found herself face to face with a cowboy in a ten-gallon hat and a bushy mustache. Her stomach did a flip-flop. She forced a smile and answered, "No, thank you. I'm waiting for someone."

 

Refusing to take no for an answer, the cowboy slipped his arm around Layla, attempting to pull her against him. His breath was atrocious, and Layla turned away. The aborted kiss landed on her hair.  She pushed him away. "Please, I said I was waiting for someone."

 

Jake slid onto the bar stool beside her, staring directly into the cowboy's eyes. "Move along, Cowboy. The lady's taken."

 

"Oh, didn't mean anything by it. Just having a little fun." He tipped his hat and quickly retreated.

Layla closed her eyes, calming herself, before turning to Jake. Her voice was soft and appreciative. "Thank you for rescuing me."

 

"No problem." Jake smiled and let his eyes roam over her. "It's easy to see how he got the wrong idea. You shouldn't be her alone."

 

Layla glanced at her dress. A pink blush crept up her neck and over her cheeks. Flustered, she asked, "Would you excuse me? I need to find the powder room."

 

Jake pointed, "Straight back there on the left." He chuckled as he watched her wind her way through the crowded room. She was a fish out of water, hanging out in a country bar dressed in New York's finest. He needed to keep his eye on her.

*****

 

At the bathroom door, the red exit sign caught her eye. She made a split decision. She needed to leave and regroup. She, too, knew she didn't belong in this place alone.

 

As she pushed open the door and stepped out, she heard a loud voice, then a woman screaming. Only steps away, in the grass, a man was beating his fist into a woman. Her screams sent chills through Layla's body. She wanted to run for help, but instead, she raced toward them, pounding her fists against his back.

 

"Stop! Stop! You're hurting her."

 

"What the hell, bitch." The man balled up his fist and slugged Layla, knocking her to the ground. Her head was spinning and nothing was in focus. Blood dripped from her nose and mouth. She could hear sirens in the distance. And then the man was gone.

 

She lifted her head, searching for the woman. Her eyes widened and she choked on the bile rising in her throat.  The woman lay only a few feet away, covered in blood. A knife protruded from her chest. Layla heard a sickening scream, not knowing it was her, as everything went blank.

 

Jake charged through the door, scooped up Layla, and disappeared into the night as the police arrived.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman


Chapter 10
Living On The Edge - Chap 10

By Begin Again

 

CHAPTER 10

"You're one lucky guy, my friend." The voice was familiar, and Troy smiled.

"Why? Because I get to see your ugly face every day?"

It was Sammy's custom to make a morning visit to check on his friend. Troy's life had hung in a teetering balance at first. He was happy to see him on the mend.

"Well, that too, but I was referring to the fact you are living and breathing."

Troy groaned as he struggled to roll on his side. "Really? Explain that to me since I don't feel lucky."

Sammy laughed. "Doc says another inch, and you'd be pushing up daisies instead of lying around your own private hospital. You lost a lot of blood, too. You ask me, you got it good."

"Any idea who did this?"

"Boss is working on it. He's had a few irons in the fire to take care of while you were playing Sleeping Beauty." Sammy hesitated, not sure how to approach the topic of the day. "You aren't the only patient at the moment."

Troy raised his eyebrow. "Anyone I know? It would make my day to occasionally look at someone else's mug."

"It's the lady cop."

"You brought the woman whose aim in life is to send me back to prison here? Have you and Frankie gone mad?"

"Just slow down before you pop those stitches. I can explain."

"You better explain, or I'm out of here." Troy tried to sit up, groaned as pain rocketed through his body, and eased back till he was lying down. "Why? What possible reason could you have?"

"If you'd stop your ranting, I'll tell you." Sammy pulled his chair closer to the bed. "Antonio tried to kill her."

"What? Antonio's a thief and a con, not a murderer."

"He upped his game while you were in the pen. He got involved in something and found himself in over his head."

"Drugs? Was he selling in the district?" Troy was confused. Why would his childhood friend try to kill a cop? Antonio had always walked the wrong side of the tracks, but murder.

"Would you give me a chance to explain?"
 
Troy nodded.
 
Sammy began, "It wasn't drugs. He worked for your brother."

"Richard? I'm certain he framed me, but for Christ's sake, he's the Chief of Police."

Sammy shrugged. "That he is, but he has a much darker side. That's why D.C. sent Jake here."

"Jake? Jake Delanty? I thought he was working with Richard."

"It's a cover. Only Frankie and I know that D.C. sent him to investigate your brother and a few other rotten apples."

"Jake is FBI? He's with the Bureau?" Troy shook his head in disbelief. "He could have told me."

"He wanted to trust you but needed to make sure you hadn't become someone else while in prison. That life can change people."

"Tell me about it!" Troy tried to stretch, but the pain shot through him again. "I'm going to need more of that happy medicine you guys keep around here."

"As soon as I tell you about Alyssa, okay? Can you hang on for a few minutes?"

"You just want to make sure I don't kill her myself; I know you."

"I'll make her story short. She was a newbie and a good friend of Sandra's. When Richard found out how she was determined to investigate Sandra's murder, he promoted her so he could keep tabs on her. She was totally out of her league, except for her body. She's a looker." Sammy smiled as he thought about her shapely curves and beautiful face. "Anyhow, Richard had her posing as a prostitute, expecting someone to knock her off. It didn't happen because she was a little smarter than they'd thought."

"They?"

"Yeah, Sandra's partner, Tommy, works undercover too. We think that he was responsible for you getting shot. You're a threat they didn't need, and Richard, whether he knew about it or not, would have approved."

"My own brother had me shot?"

"That's not been proved, but Frankie's got some guys working on it. Maybe Tommy was trying to make an impression on your brother." Sammy sighed. "Can you quit with the twenty questions so I can tell you about the girl?"

Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Antonio grabbed her with the intention of killing her. Our guys interrupted him, but not before he did some damage. Doc says she hit her head or maybe Antonio did it, but since she woke up, she doesn't know who she is."

"Amnesia? And you're sure she's not faking so she can get the goods on you guys? After all, she is a cop."

"Not a chance. She sits in the atrium a lot, soaking up the sun. She likes to walk the halls, so if she stops in and says hello, you need to play nice."

"I'm supposed to be nice to the woman who believes I got a slap on the wrist? You're nuts! I'm innocent, and she needs to hear it."

"Troy, she was manipulated with information just like you. They tried to kill her. Luckily, our guys caught Antonio in the act."

"Where's Antonio now?"

"It's better you steer clear of those kinds of questions, at least for now."

"I see." Troy was silent for a moment as he thought about their childhood days when they were all a team. What happened? "You've given me a lot to digest." Troy tried to take a deep breath but winced in pain. "Can I get the happy drugs now?"

"Coming right up. If you promise to play nice with the girl."

"I promise. Now go, find the nurse."

*****

The aroma of coffee drifted into the bedroom, stirring Layla awake. The room was unfamiliar. Men's shaving cream and cologne were on the dresser. A football jersey hung on the wall. Her thoughts shot to last night and the woman. She shivered, then realized she was wearing a man's pajamas. A five-alarm blared inside her head.

Tossing off the blankets, she jumped out of bed. As her feet hit the floor, her legs buckled, and she collapsed. Jake dropped the toast he was buttering and rushed to help her.

"Whoa! Take it easy. You might have a concussion." Jake helped her from the floor. "That guy knocked you a good one."

Layla's hand shot to her head as she winced in pain. "Where am I?" She looked around the room and then at Jake, firing questions at him. "What happened? How did I get here? Who — my clothes? This isn't what I remember wearing last night." A tinge of pink crept across her cheeks.

"Slow down! Let me help you to the kitchen table. I'll get us some coffee and try to fill in the gaps."

Feeling woozy, Layla allowed him to help her to the table. She checked out the room. It was neat and orderly for a man, nothing like Ryan's posh apartment. The thought, her first thought since leaving the party in New York, felt like ice water in her face. She couldn't imagine what he'd thought when he discovered she not only left the party, but she left the state. She was sure Diane had told him about Allie, but he'd never tried to call. It probably was for the best, but —

Jake was standing beside her, appearing to expect an answer.

"I'm sorry. Guess my mind wandered. Did you ask me something?"

"How do you want your coffee? Cream? Sugar?"
 
She hadn't even noticed he'd set two cups of the steamy brew on the table, along with buttered toast and some jam.

"Both, please. I normally skip the sugar, but today, I think I need a little extra jolt.

"I like my coffee strong, so you might need the sugar. Help yourself to the toast and jam." He drank his coffee and added, "I'm a bachelor, so I don't keep a lot of food here. I'm always grabbing a quick meal here or there."

"This is fine. I usually skip breakfast." Layla watched him from her side of the table. "You're the guy in the bar, right?"
 
Jake nodded.
 
"Why would you get involved?"

Jake grinned. "Why did you?"

She returned his grin. "Touche."

"I figure I am a good judge of character. My gut tells me that you might have been dressed like a hooker, but that's not your profession."

Layla's hands flew to the buttons on the pajamas. She blushed, realizing he must have undressed her last night. Embarrassed, her voice was sharp, "You don't know anything about me." She pushed the chair away and tried to stand but collapsed back into the chair.

"Sit down. I'm not going to hurt you." He stood and walked to the coffee pot, carrying it back to the table. "Would you like me to warm your cup?"
 
She shook her head. He filled his and returned the pot.
 
Once seated, he spoke, "You tried to help that woman. That tells me you're a good person." He watched her watching him. "I know your body tells a different story than the one you are trying to portray." He reached out to touch her hand, but she jerked away.

"Hey, I'm on your side." He waited, hoping she'd open the conversation. When she didn't, he did. "Why not tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help."

Uncomfortable, she snapped, "Why would you help me? The police won't."

Jake shrugged and drank his coffee while munching one of the slices of toast. If she wanted to play the waiting game, so could he. Layla broke her silence after a few minutes of staring at each other. "I am looking for my sister. The police say she was a hooker, but I know she's not." Her temper flared, and she slipped from the chair.

Jake jumped out of his chair and lifted her into his arms, carrying her back to bed.

"Listen, why don't you rest? I've got to run a few errands. We can talk more when I get back, and maybe I can help you figure this out." He left the room and returned with a piece of paper with a number written on it. "Just in case you need my help." She stared at it and nodded.

*****

Outside, in his car, he made a call. "It's me. She almost got herself killed last night. No, she's at my house, resting. I offered to help. Told her we'd talk when I got back. I'll be in touch."

He hung up and started the car. As he shifted the gears, thoughts of their conversation buzzed through his mind.

An alarm went off!

He tried to remember exactly what she'd said when she snapped at him. He'd offered to help, but she'd said something that didn't fit. It came to him: "Why would you help me? The police won't."

Jake repeated it out loud. "The police won't." So, Richard hasn't told her that her sister worked for the police department. I wonder why?

*****

Penny was worried. Alyssa hadn't checked in, and it wasn't like her. Even on her days off, she always called to say good morning. She carried the Chief's coffee into his office.

"Good morning, Chief. I've got your favorite brew, hot and steaming." She handed it to him.

"Thanks, Penny. Tommy should be here any minute. Make sure he comes right in."

"I will. Maybe he'll have an idea why Allie didn't call this morning. It's not like her not to at least say good morning." She started to leave when she saw Tommy approaching. "Tommy, good morning. The Chief wants you, but I was wondering if you had heard from Allie? She hasn't called in."

Before Tommy could open his mouth, the Chief bellowed, "Penny, cut the chit-chat. Tommy, get in here."

Tommy shrugged and turned toward the Chief's office, thankful he hadn't had to answer Penny's question.

"Close the door." was the last thing Penny heard.

*****

"You better start talking. I got a call from a college buddy who lives in New York, and he knew before I did that something had happened to Alyssa."

"She recognized Antonio. He panicked."

"Well, he messed up. She was on a video chat with her sister. She saw the tattoo."

"There's a few of those around. Doesn't prove anything."

"Tell her sister, who flew from New York, to ensure we were investigating. She's going to be a problem if Allie shows up."

"Where is she? Did he kill her?"

"She — she got away."

"You listen and listen good. You find that girl and make her disappear."

"I'm already on it. Antonio said she was in St. Peter's, but I paid Terry a visit and came out empty."

Penny knocked on the door.

"What?"

She cracked the door, knowing what would follow.

"A closed door means I'm busy."

"I know, sir, but I thought you'd want to know Unit 23 discovered a woman's body in the river."

"Just wonderful. Get a team over there to handle it."

Penny's eyes filled with tears. "Sir, they said one of the articles found on the woman was a bracelet. It was engraved with Alyssa."

Silence filled the office as Tommy stared at the Chief.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman


Chapter 11
Living On The Edge - Chap. 11

By Begin Again

 
 
CHAPTER 11
 
Layla peered through the curtains as she watched Jake pull out of the driveway. The sound of her phone ringing caught her attention, and she quickly picked it up. The caller ID displayed a number from New York. She answered the call and was greeted by Ryan's worried voice.
"Layla, what's going on?" he asked. "Diane says you're in Illinois. I don't understand. We were celebrating. I was going to ask you to marry me."
 
Layla's heart sank, and she felt guilty. She knew that what he was saying was true, but it was not what she wanted. "I'm sorry, Ryan. Allie needed me."
 
"Your sister calls, and you drop everything, including me," Ryan said bitterly. "What about your business?"
 
Layla tried to explain, "Diane can handle the day-to-day business. We're in downtime for the next month since the shows are over."
 
Ryan replied sarcastically, "Sounds like a good excuse."
 
"Ryan, I don't expect you to understand, and I don't need an excuse. I should have called and explained, but I couldn't. I'm sorry," Layla apologized.
 
"So, Allie needed a shoulder to cry on, and you hopped on the next flight. Is that how our marriage is going to be? I won't play second fiddle to anyone, including Allie," Ryan retorted.
 
"Ryan, Allie is missing, and someone might have murdered her. I've got to find her."
 
Ryan's voice rose as he screamed into the phone, "Layla, have you lost your mind? That's why there are police departments. Let them do their job and come home." He was angry and frustrated, and his words were biting.
 
But Layla was resolute. "I can't, and I won't. Allie is my family, and we stick together," she replied firmly. Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of sadness. She knew what she had to do, even if it meant sacrificing her relationship with Ryan.
 
"I care for you, Ryan, but I don't love you enough to get married. I wouldn't have said yes if I had stayed there," she said, her words laced with regret.
 
Ryan's tone softened as he pleaded with her. "Layla, you don't know what you are saying. You're upset about Allie and confused," he said, hoping to change her mind.
 
But Layla was resolute. "Yes, I am upset, but I'm not confused. I'm sorry, but we don't have a future together. It's over," she said, her voice breaking a little.
 
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Layla could hear Ryan breathing, but he wasn't saying anything. "Ryan — did you hear me?" she asked, hoping for a response.
 
But there was no response. Layla heard a beep, and the line went dead. Ryan had hung up without even saying goodbye.
 
She hadn't intended to end their relationship over the phone but accepted it had happened. Allie was her top priority, and she knew she had to do whatever it took to help her. As for Ryan, she was optimistic he'd land on his feet within a week.
 
Ryan was successful in the financial field, owned a flat in New York City, and had a family in the Hamptons. The minute the word was out that he was single, she did not doubt that girls would stick to him like flypaper.


*****
Troy had been dozing off throughout the day, his mind reeling with all the information he had learned from Sammy earlier. His medicine had helped him relax, but he still felt uneasy about meeting with the cop. He had imagined her as a stern and imposing figure, resembling the Catholic nuns from his childhood. But, when she tapped on his door and poked her head into his room, he was taken aback by her friendly demeanor.
 
Her emerald green eyes sparkled as she smiled warmly at him. Troy was struck by her beauty - her wavy hair framed her face perfectly, and her smile was so infectious that he thought his heart rate would set off the monitors. Despite his past as an iron-fisted ex-con, he felt like a giddy schoolboy in front of her.
 
"I hope I'm not bothering you," she said, her musical laughter filling the room. "They said I could stop and say hello once in a while."
 
Troy was positive that if she smiled once more, he would melt like the witch in the Wizard of Oz. "Bothering me? No, I'm craving company. Please, come in."
 
"Thank you. I've been in the atrium quite a while, so I won't stay long."
 
"NO! NO! Please stay as long as you like." Troy couldn't get the words out fast enough.
 
She laughed again, and Troy couldn't help but feel drawn to her. He had never believed in love at first sight, but today, he thought it was possible.
 
"My name is Troy," he said, hoping to make a good impression.
 
"It may sound silly, but I don't know mine," she replied. "The doctor said I had an accident, and my memory took a vacation. Well, I guess all of me did because I've never been to such a beautiful place. I don't even know how I got here."
 
"You have amnesia. Your memory will come back in time. For now, rest and get better."
 
"I love the atrium with all the flowers and birds," she said with a dreamy look. "They even have butterflies fluttering about. The nurse told me about each wonderful creature. I can't get enough of the warm sun. I'll take you there when they say you can get up in a wheelchair. You'll love it, I bet."

"I'm sure I will. Thank you."
 
Alyssa stood up from the chair, her movements slow and careful. Troy watched her as she walked towards the door, her slight frame looking fragile against the sterile hospital walls. "I better go. They said not to stay long, and the nurse keeps close tabs on me. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow," she said softly. She opened the door and turned to say goodbye.
 
"Goodbye, Alyssa," Troy replied, his voice warm and gentle.
 
Alyssa paused for a moment, a look of confusion on her face. "You called me Alyssa. It's a pretty name. Do you think that's my name?" she asked, her eyes searching his.
 
Troy hesitated, unsure of what to say. "I don't know. It just popped into my head," he replied, feeling foolish for using her real name.
 
Alyssa smiled, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "Hmm, I like it. You can call me Alyssa if you want. Everybody needs a name, right?" She waved and disappeared down the hall.
 
Troy watched her go, feeling a sense of loss as she left. She had taken all the light with her, leaving him alone in the dimly lit hospital room. But as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but hope for sweet dreams.

*****

Layla couldn't resist the temptation to explore Jake's place after he left. She went through his drawers and cupboards, searching for clues about him. She found an envelope with his address in the top desk drawer and a gun in the drawer by the nightstand. She hesitated momentarily, considering whether to take the weapon, but she decided against it. She knew nothing about firearms and felt it was better to leave it alone.
 
She rummaged through Jake's closet and found a jogging suit. Although it would be baggy on her thin frame, it was still better than the pajamas or the dress she had worn the previous night.
 
 Once dressed, she called a cab to take her to Alyssa's apartment.
 
 She spent the next two hours showering, washing her hair, and going through her suitcase to find more suitable clothes.
 
She'd seen a church nearby and decided she wanted to go, light a candle for her sister, and pray.
*****
As she walked towards the church, the fresh air felt invigorating, and the bells ringing in the distance were soothing. She was awestruck by the beauty of the statues and hand-painted ceiling when she stepped inside. She approached the front altar, where dozens of candles lined the stand. After dropping a few dollars in the box, she took a match and lit a candle for her sister.
 
"Allie, wherever you are, this candle is for you to guide you back home to me. Fight harder than you have ever fought. I know I will until I find you. I love you, Allie."
 
She made the sign of the cross and moved to the front pew, where she knelt to pray.
 
 When Father Williams entered from the rectory, he felt surprised to see a young woman praying. Someone he did not recognize as one of his parishioners. When she finished her prayer and stood, he approached her.
 
"Welcome to St. Peter's. I'm Father Williams, and this is my parish. I don't believe I've seen you here before."
 
"My sister, Alyssa, lives a few blocks from here. I was wondering if you might have known her. I'm from New York. I came because she's missing." Layla pulled a photo from her pocket and showed it to the Father.
 
"I'm sorry I can't help you. I shall pray for your sister." He extended his hand toward her in comfort, and Layla froze. His right hand had a tattoo of a cross and a serpent.
 
Fear gripped her. "I'm sorry — I just —" Her heart was racing, and her throat tightened. She turned away.
 
Stunned by her reaction, Father Williams called after her. "Please, let me help!"
 
Panic overwhelmed her, and she couldn't speak or catch her breath. She spun around and ran down the aisle towards the door, with Father Williams following her and pleading for her to stop. She burst out of the church doors and ran up the block until she found a cab. She climbed in and told the driver to take her to the police station.


*****

Jake parked his car in a side parking lot and climbed the steps to the door labeled Police Department. He'd received a call regarding the body found in the river and he wanted to see what the Chief had to say about it.

"Hi, Penny."

"Hi, stranger. You've been missing in action lately. Thought you might have already given up on us."

"I've just been following up some leads instead of hanging around the office. Is the Chief in his office?"

"Oh, he's there." She poured him a cup of coffee. "You might need this."

"That sounds ominous. Is he on the warpath?"

"The body they found has got him wound up tighter than a spring. I bet he's called the lab twenty times, trying to find out if he can hold the press conference."

"Press conference? On an unidentified body?"

Penny rolled her eyes. "He's got the body identified and the killer pegged as well."

"What did I miss? Wasn't she burned beyond recognition?"

"Yes, but I guess they found some scraps from her dress with DNA and a bracelet with her name." Penny looked toward the Chief's office and lowered her voice. "He says it's Alyssa, and he's pinning it on Troy."

"That would be a big mistake." Jake could feel his blood starting to boil.

He walked toward Richard Harrison's office and knocked on the door, opening it before anyone could answer. He was asking questions before Richard could even open his mouth.

"I heard they fished a body out of the river. Penny says you might already have identification. Is that right?"

Richard snapped, "Damn girl should keep her mouth shut."

"We work for the same team, don't we, Richard? Why would you keep it a secret?"

"Not you, just people in general. I've got a press conference scheduled for three."

"A press conference. Are you sure about this? You're moving mighty fast." Jake couldn't believe this man's arrogance.

"Why wait? Her body was burned beyond recognition and then dumped in the murky river water. Everything's contaminated except for what they found on shore."

"Which was?"

"They found scraps of her dress stuck on the thorny bushes along the bank. I'm waiting for clarification, but I'm positive they will find Alyssa's DNA. That, along with the bracelet with her name, is enough." He appeared to gloat as he added, "As for the killer, it pains me to say it, but it's Troy. He just got out of prison and knew she was out to send him back. He beat her to the punch. But he won't get away with it. Not if I have anything to say about it."

Jake couldn't believe what he was hearing. This man, someone he'd known almost his whole life, was about to sell his brother down the river. For what, political votes?
"You really think Troy would risk going back to prison?"

"I don't think it. I know it." Richard turned and stared out at the skyline before he spoke. "They found his watch, a gift he received from our father. It's engraved with his name. I'm guessing it got ripped off in a struggle. Regardless, it seals the deal for me."

"Have you talked to Troy? Got his version of the story?"

"No, it's not necessary, and he'd lie to stay out of prison. He got a reduced sentence, and this is how he repays those who helped him." Richard cleared his throat. "He's going to rot in prison this time. I haven't seen him, so I assume he's on the run. It won't take us long to track him down."

Layla raced into headquarters, breathless, screaming, "I've got to talk to the Chief. I found my sister's murderer — the attacker — whatever he is."

Penny jumped out of her seat and hurried to Layla's side. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and breathe."

"No! I want to see the Chief." Layla looked toward the Chief's office. "Is that Jake?" Before Penny could answer, Layla was moving and calling out, "Jake! Jake! I found the guy."

He hurried to her side and wrapped his arm around her. "Layla, calm down. What are you talking about?"

"I went to the church to pray. The priest introduced himself. When he extended his hand, I saw the tattoo, the one I saw on the video chat. I saw the cross and the serpent."

"What church were you at?"

"The one by Alyssa's house—St. Peter's, I think. It was him, Jake. They need to arrest him right now."

"I've known Father Williams all my life. So has the Chief. You're mistaken. He's a good man."

Richard joined the group in the doorway. "Please come in and sit for a minute. I'm afraid I have some unpleasant news to share with you."

"I don't want to sit. I want you to arrest my sister's killer."

"I'm afraid we have."

"What? When?" She looked from the Chief to Jake and back again. "How could you have gotten to the church that fast? I just left there. I don't understand."

"Your sister's body was recovered from the river early this morning."

"No, it can't be. I don't believe you. I want to see her."

"No, Miss Saladino, I assure you — you don't."
 
Penny handed him a box of Kleenex, and he placed it near Layla.
 
"Your sister was set on fire. Her body was burned and then tossed in contaminated water somewhere near the sewage company. She was wearing a bracelet with her name engraved on it. I'm deeply sorry for your loss."

Layla was numb. This couldn't be true. Allie couldn't be dead.
 
Tears rolled down her face as Jake tried his best to console her. "It's not her, Jake. I know it's not her."
 
"Come on. I'll take you home."

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman


Chapter 12
Living On The Edge - Chap 12

By Begin Again

 
 
CHAPTER 12
 

Layla, who had just awakened from several hours of sleep, went to the front room, where Jake was on the phone. She leaned against the door frame, watching him intently. After he ended the call, she said, "You shouldn't have stayed. I know you have things to do. I can take care of myself. I do run a business in the big city, you know."

He smiled warmly and turned towards her. "Nothing is more important than being here with you. It's been a stressful day. You deserve to have a friend by your side."

Layla felt a sense of relief wash over her as if she was finally safe after a long and tiring journey. "You're too kind. We've just met, yet you put yourself out there for me."

"It's nothing. Someone once told me, 'Do unto others as you want them to do unto you.' It's an excellent motto, don't you think?

He watched her walk across the room to join him. As she stood in front of him, he ran his hands through her hair and tipped her head towards his face. "I'm here. You can trust me. Do you believe that?"

She smiled, and he couldn't help but notice how her eyes lit up and her tiny dimples appeared. A sudden urge to kiss her overwhelmed him.

                             Stop it, Jake! Have you lost your mind?

He suppressed his feelings. He needed to remain calm and in control. Grinning, he shifted gears. "And now, I'll fix us something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Not really. Could we sit and talk for a little while?"

"Sure. I'll start a fire. You get cozy on the couch. Would you like a glass of wine? I see there are a few bottles in the wine rack. Red or white?"

"A nice white Zinfandel, if there is one."

Jake added a couple of logs to the fire and headed for the kitchen. He returned with two glasses of wine, a tray of cheese and crackers, and some grapes. He shrugged and smiled. "It's all I could find."

"Oh, that looks great. Ryan would never have done something like this for me."

"Ryan?"

"A guy I was dating, but it's over. He called me today and was irate because I'd left New York to come find my sister."

"I'm sorry." He felt like she'd poured a bucket of water over his head. How dumb of him not knowing she had a boyfriend in New York.

She reached out and touched his hand. "No, don't be." She, too, had felt a momentary tingle.

Confused, Layla picked up her wine glass and sipped. "I knew before this happened that we were not meant to be. I need a man who wants to be there for me, with me, not because I'm rich or famous, but because he cares about me."

There it was again. The urge to kiss this woman he barely knew. Instead, he popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and added, "You deserve to have that and so much more."

He placed a small piece of cheese on a cracker and held it near her mouth. "Eat! You need to keep your strength up if you intend to find your sister."

Without thinking, Layla wrapped her arms around Jake and hugged him. "You really believe she's still out there, don't you?" Realizing what she'd done, she was embarrassed and dropped her arms to her side.

He wanted her arms back. He'd liked her arms around his neck. 

Focus! 

He picked up another piece of cheese and answered, "I do, and hopefully, we can try one more time to catch the guy."

"Penny told me that Allie was working undercover with the police department, but the Chief acted like he'd never met her the first day he came to the apartment. I can't help wondering why he would do that?"

"Just between you and me, the Chief has a lot to answer for, but the powers-to-be want all their ducks in a row.

"Powers to be?" She needed clarification. "Do you work for the Chief?"

Jake stared into the fire, thinking about Layla's question. He decided she deserved the truth. "I've not been forthcoming about who I am with you or anyone else in this town."



Alarms went off in Layla's head. Her back stiffened. She raised her glass to her mouth but didn't drink. Her throat was tight. "So, you're just like the others? You lied?"

"No — yes — but for a good reason." The sure-footed Jake was stuttering. He felt like a fool.

"I see!" Her tone was icy.

Jake reached for her hand, but she jerked it away. He cleared his throat. "It's the nature of my job."

"To lie to women? Do you think I'm one of those prostitutes?" Anger flared in her eyes. "Tell me, did you ever really want to help me find my sister or was that just part of your plan?"

She started to get off the sofa, but Jake reached out and held her there beside him. "Please, let me explain." He looked into her eyes. "Please."

She turned her head, staring at the flames flickering in the fireplace. A royal debate was taking place in her head.

He lied! I can't trust him. You can! At least give him a chance to explain.

Her decision was made; the tension eased from her shoulders. "I'm listening."

Jake was physically relieved. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. He sighed. "I'm going to tell you something because I trust you. I am a Special Agent for the FBI. I work out of Washington D.C. I've been sent here to work undercover because certain people are suspected of using the red-light district for profit by selling women to the highest bidders. The ones who they considered low-grade are murdered to get them off the streets. In some sick way, they think they are doing society a favor. The prettier ones are sold to the highest bidder."

Layla gasped. "That's what Allie was doing? Oh, my God, she was the bait to catch these men."

"That about sums it up. But in your sister's case, she wanted to solve her friend's murder, which was considered a closed case. She made people nervous." He drank some wine, thinking about Troy. "My friend served four years because he was framed. I asked to be assigned because, like your sister, I wanted to solve the case. On the other hand, Chief Harrison wanted it to stay closed."

"Jake, he only gave you another twenty-four hours. We shouldn't be sitting here talking, you — we need to be out there."

"Have you lost your mind? You aren't trained to put your life on the line, Layla. I can't let you do it."

"You can't stop me either. If I want to go to a bar and have a drink, I can. If you want to be my backup, that would be perfect. Jake, I don't know if my sister is dead or alive, but I know she risked her life to crack the case. I want to do it — one more time to honor her."

His thoughts raced, but in the end, he knew she'd do it with or without him. "I think I've lost my mind, but I'm willing to give it a shot if you are. But not tonight. I need to get men in place if we are going to do this, okay?"

"Okay."

*****

 
Layla had dozed off on the sofa in the living room while Jake was busy talking to his people and making the necessary arrangements. After wrapping up all his business, he remembered that he had one final call to make. He quickly dialed Chief Harrison's private number.
 
The Chief picked up, and Jake said, "Chief, it's Jake. I've got a tip: Our man will be at the Lazy Saloon tomorrow night. It's now or never."
 
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line. Finally, the Chief replied, "Do you need backup?"
 
"No, he's just one guy. Besides, he can probably spot a cop a mile away. It's better if the girl and I do it alone."
 
"Okay, Jake. I trust your judgment. Good luck."
 
"Thanks. Good night." Jake smiled and ended the call.
 
*****
 
Not long after Jake's call, Richard Harrison made a call. "Marcos, are you at the pool hall?"
 
"Every Thursday night, like clockwork. What's up?" answered Marcos.
 
"Not on the phone. I'll pick you up out front in fifteen. I'll be driving a blue '68 Olds Cutlass."
 
"That old thing still runs?" Marcos chuckled.
 
"It's a classic. Now shut up and be outside."

*****

While he drove, classic 60's songs played on the radio. Richard loved cruising in his car, but he loved getting the upper hand even more. Everything was falling into place, and soon it would all be his.

He placed a call.

"Tommy, it's me. It's happening tomorrow at the Lazy Saloon. Antonio's AWOL, so you take his spot."

"Me? But, Boss —"

Richard yelled, "I said you. The marks the broad from New York."

"Allie's sister? Why?"

"The two are two peas in a pod. You and Antonio got sloppy. Now clean it up or —" Richard grinned into his rearview mirror. "Or you might be next. Understood?"

"Understood, boss." The call disconnected.

*****

The Cutlass cruised to the curb, and Marcos jumped in. He admired the car. "You kept it up. Nice!"

"Make you a deal, Marcos. You do this one right, and it's yours."

"Really? Must be big."

"It is. You're going to take out an FBI agent tomorrow night."

"FBI in Rockford? Since when?"

"Since they thought they pulled a fast one on me and sent an old childhood friend undercover. But I'm no fool. I've got my sources, too."

"A job's a job. They all bleed the same." Marcos laughed. "When and where?"

"That's what I like about you, Marcos. Game on!"

While the two men cruised and made plans, a dark sedan followed them, keeping a safe distance to avoid being seen.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman


Chapter 13
Living on the Edge - Chap 13

By Begin Again



CHAPTER 13

Father Terry Williams and Jake knelt together at the altar, praying for guidance and safety in the face of tonight's danger. As childhood friends, they had made a pact to have each other's backs, and now that promise was about to be tested.

With hands clasped, Jake prayed, "May your truth guide my actions, and may I remember that I am called to be a peacemaker in a troubled world. I give you all the honor and glory, Jesus, and I pray that you continue to watch over my fellow officers and me. In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen."

Father Williams made the sign of the cross and sprinkled holy water on Jake, saying, "May God be with you, my friend."

Terry was worried. He knew the battles that Jake had faced during his career and the danger that lay ahead. "Jake, are you sure about this? The girl's a novice, and her life will be in danger."


"I'm well aware, but she's determined to go whether she has my blessings or not."

"You've faced dangerous men before, but she has not. She could make a mistake. Are you prepared to think and react for both of you?"

"I've no choice. What will be will be, I guess." Jake shook his head. "I'll do my best and hope it's enough."

"On another note, have you checked on Troy? How's he doing?"

"I've not been to see him, but Frankie says he's improving day by day. So far, no one is aware of where he is, and I hope to keep it like that. Though, I know Frankie's place is a fortress."

"And the girl?"

We've got our ears to the ground, but so far, there have been no rumblings. The body Richard claimed to be Alyssa was too convenient. Layla doesn't believe it was her, and neither do I." Jake stared at the cross of Jesus before adding, "I'm going to take him down, Terry. He's playing God, and we've already got one, and that's how it will always be."

"Amen! You had better get going so you can double-check what's happening. Stay safe, and I shall pray for the two of you."

"Thanks. We need all the help we can get." Jake waved his goodbye and left the church.

The priest watched his friend walk away and prayed, "Our Father in Heaven, in your name, I ask that you guide him tonight and keep them safe. Amen."

*****

A procession of luxurious sedans and SUVs drove up the long, winding driveway to Frank Divito's home. Frank had requested a favor from his guests, who accepted without hesitation.

"Sammy, have our guests settled themselves in the boardroom?" Frank asked.

"Yes, sir. I had Marie set up a coffee bar with pastries. They are enjoying it now," Sammy replied, intuitively knowing Frankie's wishes. "The Snoz and Big Lou flew in from California and have cornered the market on the cannoli." He laughed. "They have no shame."

"Those two have eating down to a fine art, my friend. Mangia!"

"I warned Marie to have plenty of backup in the kitchen."

"Perfect! Have you had time to check on our friends in the west wing?"

"I have! The doctor says Troy is improving faster than predicted." Sammy could not hide his smile. "It could be due to his newfound interest in our other guest, who is healthy in all aspects except remembering."

"It will come in time. Does Troy know who she is?"

"He does, but I think his smitten heart speaks louder than his mind."

Frank chuckled. "Love can do that sometimes. Bellissimo!"

"Will you be going to the boardroom now?"

"No, I have some calls to make. Let them enjoy their breakfast, and I'll join them shortly."

Frank turned to leave but had one more thing to say. "Sammy, I want to thank you for helping me. I know Troy has been your friend, but you don't owe Jake or Alyssa anything."

"Boss, you know I'd do anything for you. They're your friends so they are mine."

"I just wanted you to know I appreciate it. Now, before I have sap dripping from my face, let's get back to work."

Their laughter filled the room as they both left.

*****

Troy couldn't stop checking the door. She'd visited him twice a day, once at ten and then again at three. Their visits had eased the pain of lying in bed when he'd much rather be on the streets proving his innocence. He wondered how she would react when she discovered who he was, or who she believed he was.

 
Just before noon, Alyssa's smiling face appeared. Troy's face lit up as he grinned. "I was worried. I thought you might not be coming."

"How sweet! I'm sorry I worried you, but I've got good news."

"Great! What's going on?" Troy silently prayed that they weren't releasing her.

"I had a breakthrough this morning. I was so excited."

Instant fear popped into Troy's brain. Had Alyssa remembered who he was? He squashed that thought because she was so happy.

"So, tell me what happened? Did you remember who you are?" he asked, holding his breath and expecting the worst.

"No, but I remembered wearing fancy dresses and dancing. I was searching for something, but I had no idea what. The doctor says it was a beginning, though. Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll remember more."

Troy nodded, trying to be happy for her. But he couldn't help worrying about what might happen to their friendship if she ever remembered who he was or worse if she hated him again.

*****

"Buongiorno, my friends. Thank you for coming on such short notice. This afternoon, you are free to enjoy my home. Please, take a stroll through the beautiful gardens, and relax at the pool, or for athletic buffs, feel free to use the gym, the jogging path, or tennis courts. It's all available for your enjoyment. Later tonight, we shall visit a local bar for some country-style fun. Be prepared for lots of drinking and dancing, all at my expense, of course."

Frankie's guests cheered and applauded, sharing laughter and bawdy remarks.

"Carl, Benny, and Pete, can I have a moment alone with you in my study, please?" The three men nodded and followed Frank from the room. In the hall, he added, "I have some special fun for you fellows."

*****

Gazing out the window, Jake was lost in his thoughts when Layla interrupted him, "A penny for your thoughts."

Startled, he turned to face her. "Did you say something to me?"

She chuckled softly. "You look like a child who got caught in the cookie jar. Are you okay?"

Jake nodded. "Just thinking, I guess. I'm worried about tonight."

She understood. She was worried too. She hadn't been able to imagine Allie doing this, yet here she was, a pure novice, exposing herself to the criminal element. She knew it was the right thing to do regardless, but instead of telling Jake her concerns, she asked, "You set up stings and take down the bad guy all the time, right? I'd think it was routine."

"Nothing's ever routine, Layla. The bad guy always has an extra trick up his sleeve. My job is to figure out what it could be."

She smiled. "And you haven't figured it out yet, or is it me?"

Jake's tone was quiet and serious. "I'm putting you in danger. If something goes wrong —"

Layla interrupted him, "You're not putting me anywhere. I'm doing this by choice. I'm doing this for my sister." She hesitated, lowered her eyes, and added, "And for you."

Jake stood and walked over to her. "Don't do it for me, Layla. It's my job, not yours." He hadn't realized his hands were gripping her arms. He'd frightened her, which was not his intention. His arms encircled her, and he pulled her tight, whispering, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me."

Resting her head against his chest, she could hear the beating of his heart. "I think you do." A reddish blush crept across her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkled. His breath was warm against her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered, then closed as she murmured, "I think we both do."

"I — I shouldn't." His finger played with a curl, pushing it away from her face.

"Shouldn't what?"

"I think I might kiss you."

"Then do it!" She laughed, brushing her soft lips against his face. "Feel better. I beat you to it." Layla hadn't ever been so bold with Ryan, but with Jake, it felt different. It felt right.

He grinned as he stared into her eyes, then bent his head and kissed her. It was soft and warm, like butterflies brushing across her lips. He whispered, "Not bad."

Layla laughed. "Not bad at all." Expecting a follow-up kiss, she cocked her head to the side, asking, "That's it?"

Jake released her and took a step backward. "As much as I'd like to pursue this moment, our timing is way off. I'm sorry."

Layla blushed. "Sorry you kissed me, or sorry it happened at all?"

"No, don't misunderstand me. I — I'm not the kind of guy to mix business with pleasure. I should —

Layla snapped, "You didn't. I kissed you first." She glared at him. "I better get ready for tonight. Excuse me." She entered Allie's bedroom and slammed the door.

*****

"Did you get the picture I sent?"

"I did. He looks like a guy who busted a drug ring in Detroit a few years back. Sent a few of my friends away for a long time. It'll be my pleasure to finish him off."

"Don't get cocky, Marcos. This guy is slick. He'll be on the lookout, expecting that Tommy might have a backup."

"I know how to do my job, Chief. He'll be down, and no one will ever know I was there. In-and-out. And that ride of yours, well, that baby is going to be mine."

"You do this right, and you'll be able to buy a whole fleet of those babies."

"Don't worry about me getting it right. Just see your guys rush in after him and the girl, not me."

"I've never let you down, Marcos. You and me, we've got this."

*****

Jake tapped on the bedroom door. When he didn't get an answer, he spoke, "Layla, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

He waited, but her only answer was silence.

"Layla, you don't have to do this. But if you insist, then I need to talk to you before I leave."

He heard movement inside the bedroom. "Layla, please open the door."

Layla cracked the door open. "Say what you have to say and then go."

"No. I need to give you instructions. You won't see me, but if you do, don't act like you recognize me. I don't know who might be watching."

She opened the door wider.

He handed her a knife. She jerked her hand away.

"I don't want that. You or the police are going to catch him, right?"

"I warned you, anything can happen. Take the knife."

"It's just a precaution, I don't — won't use it!"

"I don't want you doing this, but if you insist, you must be safe. Promise me you'll carry it."

She nodded. "I — I promise."

"Listen, I have to go. Just go into the bar. If some guy hits on you, walk out. If he follows, walk into the park. I'll be very close. Do you have any questions?"

"No, I know what I need to do. It's simple." She started to close the door.

He put his hand against it to stop it from closing. "After this is over, we'll talk about earlier. For now, I need you to focus on what's happening at the bar. Nothing else. Okay?"

"Okay." She closed the door and leaned against it, wondering if she'd lost her mind. She knew she'd lost her heart.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman


Chapter 14
Living On The Edge - Chap 14

By Begin Again

 
 
CHAPTER 14
 
Layla stepped out of the taxi, handed the cabbie the fare, and moved to the sidewalk. She hadn't expected it to be so crowded, though it was no different from the sidewalks and clubs in New York—a little seedier but certainly not a dive. She told Jake she could do this, but now she needed to prove it.

Before her courage dissipated, she moved toward the bar entrance. She could hear the jukebox even outside. A tall cowboy tipped his hat to her and opened the door. "Welcome to the Lazy Saloon. Y'all have a good evening, miss."

Layla nodded and stepped through the door. White clouds of smoke hung in the rafters. Fan blades whirled above everyone's heads. Layla surveyed the bar and the crowded dance floor. She was glad she'd chosen to wear jeans with a halter top and silk blouse, unbuttoned to expose her chest. The evening gowns in Allie's closet wouldn't have fit in with this crowd.

She found a stool at the bar and slid onto it. She wondered where Jake was.

"What can I get you, little lady?" The bartender smiled and cleaned the area in front of her. Layla hesitated, not sure what she should order. "Is this your first time at the Lazy Saloon?"

She nodded. "It's a bit intimidating."

"There are some wild ones in here tonight, ma'am. If you're alone, I suggest you keep your drink light, if you know what I mean. It's best to keep your wits about you. I'd be happy to get you a glass of wine if you'd like."

This wasn't New York, that's for sure. She smiled at the bartender. "A glass of white zin would be nice."

"White zin, it is."

He hurried to the end of the bar, found a wine glass, and poured the white wine. He brought it back and placed a coaster and wine in front of her. He smiled. "On the house. Just be careful and have fun. I'd stay away from the boys who are cuttin' loose too much. They can be serious trouble, especially if you aren't used to their kind."

"Thank you for the wine. And I'll remember your advice." She took a sip and let her eyes scan the bar. She thought Jake had mentioned something about a guy with a red ball cap, but she wasn't sure. Most of these men wore cowboy hats.

Her eyes continued around the bar until she found another pair staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Jake, but it didn't look like he was alone. A pretty brunette's fingers were playing with the buttons on his shirt and pressing her breasts into his arm. She forced herself to look away. She hadn't expected it would sting so much.

When she looked again, he was gone, and so was the brunette. Her heart sank. She needed some air.

*****

Outside, it was a typical night. Half-naked women were openly offering a good time for a few dollars. They weren't the stranger's type. He wanted something better. One that smelled good and was easy on the eyes. Something spicy, maybe.

He strolled down the block, stopping near a clump of trees. He lit a cigarette while he watched and waited. As crowded as this place was tonight, he wasn't worried about finding what he wanted. He just wanted to choose the right one.

Layla exited the bar, unsure of what to do next. The girls working the corner didn't hesitate to tell her.

"Honey, this corner is taken. Just keep your little tush moving if you know what's good for you."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad, Sable; none of these rough-riding cowboys are going to want her scrawny butt."

"Don't be talking about my panties. Hell, this girl ain't wearing any."

They all laughed, and Layla moved away.

She walked toward the park, her heels tapping in perfect rhythm as she glided along. The fresh air felt good as she cleared her lungs. She saw a man standing in the shadow of the trees, his cigarette dangled from his lips. Chills ran up and down her spine. Could he be the one? He was hanging out, away from the crowd, by himself. Was it easier to pick up a woman that way?

For some crazy reason, he reminded her of an old movie. Maybe this was her chance! She prayed Jake was nearby.

She approached him, smiling. "Gotta light, tough guy?"

She felt foolish when he didn't answer, acting like one of Humphrey Bogart's dames. He probably didn't even know who that was.

"Forget it. Looks like I don't have a cigarette anyway." Irritated with herself and with him, she turned to walk away.

"Wait!" He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he placed it between her lips, leaning closer. Her perfume was intoxicating, and his eyes lingered on her breasts.

Layla felt her nerves kick into high gear. "I'm just looking for a light."

He opened his jacket. His fingers touched the steel blade hidden inside. Retrieving the Zippo, he lit her cigarette. The flickering flame illuminated her face. He licked his lips and brushed his fingertips across her chest.

Instant heat surged up her neck and across her face. Blushing, she stammered, "Sorry, this girl's not free." She stepped back.

A chuckle rattled in the man's throat. "Oh, Darlin, I can pay."

Fear was working its way up from her toes to the top of her head. The cigarette dropped from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and glassy. "I — meant — I'm meeting someone, so I'm not free."

She turned and hastily walked toward the park. Sweat was trickling down her back. She prayed he wasn't following her but was too afraid to look back.

She moaned out loud, "Oh. Jake, where are you? You were right. I can't do this." Then she remembered the brunette and walked faster, clicking her heels against the pavement. "Forget you, Jake."

The man crushed out his cigarette and started to follow her. Checking the area, he slipped into the darkness and stealthily closed the distance between them. His movements were routine and polished. His motive was simple - to remove another slut from the streets. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in for the kill. It was going to be too easy. He could see her walking just ahead. He could feel the lust building between his legs. His mind was exploding with desire. He'd waited, and now she was his.

Approaching footsteps caught him off guard. He hesitated. He could see a man moving toward him. He tried to step aside. Too late!

"What the -"

His eyes registered fear. Pain raged through his body. Lifeless, he crumbled to the ground. Blood gurgled and ran down his chin. The man, towering above him, smiled. "Sorry, pal. This one is mine."

 
Jake stood in the shadows, holding his breath as he watched it go down. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but his eyes remained on the guy standing—the one closing in on Layla.

A message alert beeped on Jake's team phone. He scowled but couldn't ignore it. It could be important. He glanced down and read it - "LOL I've got the girl." Someone on his team had Alyssa? How?

Jake didn't understand, but he needed to remain focused on Layla right that minute. As he lifted his head to search for her, he heard a "pop" and felt the burning sensation of a bullet through his arm, followed by a second one in his gut. He staggered and then fell to the ground. His blood was spilling everywhere. He struggled to remain conscious, reaching for his radio. His last words were "Man Down" as he pushed the alert button before the blackness enveloped him.

*****

Marco gloated at the accuracy of his shots. He'd just won the bet. The Cutlass was his. Smiling as Jake collapsed, Marco backed into the tall bushes, ditched the cowboy hat and jacket, and headed into the darkness, away from the park. Within seconds, he was far from the crime scene.

Satisfied with his success, he neglected to realize three men were closing in on him.

The butt of a gun knocked him out. Seconds later, he was tossed into the trunk of a sedan and driven away. Marco hadn't won after all.

*****

Tommy spun around from his kill, searching for Layla. He had to reach her. Her death guaranteed his survival and a possible promotion from the boss. No more red light district!

He spotted her near the fountain. His adrenalin pumped as he moved in. It was going to be easy. She didn't know he was coming. He had seen Antonio do it hundreds of times. It would be over in seconds. Victory would be his. Kill her and leave. Fast and easy.

He was three feet away.

He was closing in — two feet away.

He could smell her fear — one foot away.

His hand wrapped around her throat, but she'd heard his footsteps against the pavement. She screamed and spun around, plunging the knife Jake had given her into his gut.

Disbelief rang through his head, followed by fear and the realization she'd beat him at his own game. He stumbled and fell to the ground, bleeding and gasping for air. The red baseball cap slipped from his head.

Terror ripped through Layla as she bent down and lifted his hand. It didn't have the tattoo. The cross and the serpent weren't there. She started screaming hysterically over and over, "I killed the wrong man. I killed the wrong man."

Like a stage production waiting in the wings, the street filled with sirens and flashing lights. Police officers arrived from every direction. EMTs were unloaded from several ambulances. News trucks were parked on the grass.

Within minutes, Chief Richard Harrison arrived on the scene. He walked briskly toward the crime scene, yet he acknowledged the clamoring reporters. Questions flew from every direction and every mouth.

"Were you prepared for this bust?"

"Does any of this have to do with drugs or sex crimes?"

"Do you know who the victims are?"

"Is the suspect a woman? Is she in custody?

Chief Harrison stopped and smiled as the cameras clicked, then answered, "I'll be happy to give you a statement as soon as I oversee the crime scene. Just give me a moment, please."

Richard Harrison stared past his officers at Layla Saladino, the woman who refused his request to return to New York and let him solve the case of her missing sister. She was going to regret it because he was going to see to it.

He joined the officers. Bending, he rolled over the body. Several of the officers gasped. "It's Tommy."

Layla gasped. "You know him? Is he the murderer?"

Chief Harrison could barely contain himself as he looked into Layla's eyes. "Yes, ma'am, we know him. Tommy's one of us. He's a cop."

Layla closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek. She swatted it away. It couldn't be. But it was. She'd stabbed a cop, and he was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood.

The Chief stepped closer to her. "You're going to have to come down to the station and give your statement." He turned to one of his officers. "Langley, will you read Ms. Saladino her rights and take her in? I'll be there after I give the reporters a statement."
 
"Yes, sir."

A uniformed police officer rushed up to the Chief. "Sir, we have two more victims. One of them is Jake. The other one is unknown."

Layla cried, "No, not Jake. It can't be."

Before leaving the crime scene, Richard whispered into Layla's ear, "You should have listened when I told you to go back to New York." He walked away, smiling, confident everything was going his way.

"Ma'am, you need to come with me." Officer Langley put cuffs on Layla's wrists before reading her Miranda rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman


Chapter 15
Living On The Edge - Chap 15

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 14

Layla closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek. She swatted it away. It couldn't be. But it was. She'd stabbed a cop, and he was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood.

The Chief stepped closer to her. "You're going to have to come down to the station and give your statement." He turned to one of his officers. "Langley, will you read Ms. Saladino her rights and take her in? I'll be there after I give the reporters a statement."
 
"Yes, sir."

A uniformed police officer rushed up to the Chief. "Sir, we have two more victims. One of them is Jake. The other one is unknown."

Layla cried, "No, not Jake. It can't be."

Before leaving the crime scene, Richard whispered into Layla's ear, "You should have listened when I told you to go back to New York." He walked away, smiling, confident everything was going his way.

"Ma'am, you need to come with me." Officer Langley put cuffs on Layla's wrists before reading her Miranda rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."
 
*****
 
CHAPTER 15

Frankie's guests enjoyed the music and dancing at the Lazy Saloon, but they were each assigned a mission: to keep an eye on what was happening inside and outside.

In Frankie's office, he'd given three men, Carl, Benny, and Pete, a high-priority job. He presented pictures of Marcos' late-night meeting with the Chief of Police and explained that he believed a hit was being arranged. His message was clear in each man's mind.

Expect a crowd, including our friends. You'll always be alerted to Marcos's whereabouts. Remain on the ready but in the shadows, out of sight. If he shoots, you will need to be on the move. Stop him, but don't kill him. I want him alive.

Frank had chosen these men carefully. They were the best. Quick, accurate, and silent. Like a well-oiled machine, they hadn't failed. They'd bagged their quarry and were headed home.

Carl drove the sedan slowly through the alley, away from the park, and to the next avenue without attracting attention. The streets were lit up with red and blue as the fleet of squad cars arrived on the scene. The men grinned as they disappeared.

"A piece of cake, guys." They all laughed, satisfied with completing their job.

*****
As they headed back to Frankie's, Marcos regained consciousness. He was irate, banging and kicking the inside of the trunk. His mouth was non-stop with accusations and threats.

"Harrison, you're a double-crossing, dirty cop. Let me out of here! You don't know who you are messing with! When I get out of here, you're dead."

Inside the car, the men's frustrations were skyrocketing as they each offered their suggestions for the scumbag in the trunk.

"Carl, hit a few potholes, maybe it'll knock him out again."

"Knock him out, hell. I'm going to drown the turd in one of Frankie's toilet bowls."

"Let me cap his ass. I could use a little target practice." Benny pointed his gun at the back of the car. "Pow! Pow! Bet that'd shut him up."

"Benny, you ain't cappin' no one. Frank said to bring him back alive, and that's what we're doing."

Pete rolled his eyes at his friend's suggestion. "It's your fault, Benny. You didn't want me to drive. You know Carl drives like his eighty-year-old grandmother." He screamed at the back of the seat. "Shut up, you fool. When we get you out of there, I'm gonna squeeze your throat till your eyes pop out."

Carl turned the music up, hoping to drown all of them out as he headed to Frankie's place.
*****
The park was in chaos, with reporters cordoned off, frantically pacing around, yelling at anyone who would listen, trying to get the scoop on what was happening. Tempers flared and some stooped to reporter bribery.

"Tony, how about you give a friend the scoop on what's happening? I'll make it worth your while."

"Officer, I'll give you a front-page mention if you give me a little info."

"Larry, remember the money I loaned you? I'll forget it if you've got any inside info."

The answer was always the same: a shake of the head and "Wait for the Chief." No one risked putting their head on the chopping block or stealing Chief Harrison's thunder.

Frankie's "guests" huddled together, sharing jokes and humorous quips about their situation. They drew parallels between themselves and characters in an old-fashioned show like Andy Griffith, with "Barney" being the Chief of Police, assuming a prominent role in the drama.

Chief Richard Harrison was center stage. He marched back and forth across the grass, his face contorted with rage, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He bellowed at every officer he saw, his voice echoing in the dark.

"You, moron, of course, there's a body. Somebody committed a shooting. Can someone show me the body? I was told the FBI guy was down. Where's his body?"

Most officers steered clear of the Chief, but two young officers approached him, hoping to impress him and aid in the investigation. Eagerly, one blurted out, "We were among the first to arrive, sir. By the time the crowd moved away, he was gone."

The Chief glared at them. "On his own accord? How's that possible? I have an entire force combing this park, and not one officer saw the man who got shot. How is that possible?"

"Can't say where he went or with whom, sir, but except for the blood on the ground, there isn't any sign of a body."

"Get on the radio. Check the hospitals. Check the ambulances to see whether they picked up anyone here tonight. He couldn't have just been resurrected and disappeared," he snapped and continued to pace.

Furious, he screamed, "The man's shot, for Christ's sake. He can't have gone far. Do your job if you want to keep it. I want this man found, and I want him now."

Harrison's eyes sparked with anger. "Find him."

*****
Sammy entered the study after knocking on the door. "Sir, a special agent of the FBI is requesting permission to bring one of his officers here."

Frankie, who was surprised at the request, walked around his desk and approached Sammy. "An FBI agent is calling us for help? That's a first," he said in disbelief. "I need to know what this is about. Patch him through, Sammy. And then come back here."

Sammy nodded and quickly left the room to transfer the call.

Finally, the phone rang, and Frankie answered, "Frank DiVito speaking. Who am I speaking to, and why do you want to bring your man to my house? Is this a joke?"

"I assure you it is not a joke. I'm told that this officer is a friend of yours, and due to the nature of his injuries, he has asked that we deliver him to you instead of a local hospital," the agent explained, his voice urgent.

Frankie's heart skipped a beat. "A friend of mine? Oh, my God! Is it Jake? I was told he was dead," he said, his voice trembling. "Yes, yes, bring him. We have our hospital here at the mansion and the finest doctors."

"Thank you, Mr. DiVito. Jake is a special friend of mine, too."

"Mi casa es tu casa. We will be ready," Frankie replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Once off the phone, Frankie turned to Sammy. "You heard? He's alive, Sammy. We can be thankful for that. How his team got him before Harrison did will be an interesting story, but please alert the staff for now. They should be here shortly."

"I know how much Jake means to you, sir. I'm glad that he's alive." Sammy smiled. "While you were on the phone, Carl and the guys entered the garage. They're waiting for further orders before they take Marcos out of the trunk."

"Well, I wasn't sure they would bring him back alive. Now that he's here, we'll see how Jake is and leave that decision to him. If he's able, I'm sure he'll have questions. Tell Carl to put him in the holding room. Maybe you can help with that, Sammy."

"No problem. I am on it." Sammy left the study to prepare for Jake's arrival and hold the man responsible for his injuries.

Frankie slumped back into his chair, feeling drained and overwhelmed. He couldn't believe that Jake was alive. He put his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to process all that had happened.

*****

The tempo of the reporters yelling skyrocketed as the Chief stepped onto a temporary stage, raising his hands to quiet the crowd.

"Quiet, please. I appreciate your impatience, but this is a multiple-crime scene, and as Chief of Police, I must ensure it is appropriately handled.

"What went down?"

"Have you identified any of the victims?"

"Who was the woman they arrested?"

Questions flew from every direction. The Chief raised his hands again, requesting silence. The noise lowered to a murmur, and he spoke into the microphone.

"It's an ongoing investigation. Until I have all the information, I can't release names. I will do everything to keep our citizens safe and remove the low life living in the bowels of this town. The mayor has turned a blind eye, but I —"

"The current scuttlebutt is you're eyeing the mayor's position?"

Richard Harrison smiled at the crowd. "I might entertain the thought if asked, but first things first. I am heading this investigation for now."

"Give us something. Your team arrived moments after the events went down. Was that coincidence or a planned sting?"

Richard Harrison scanned the crowd, wondering if this was the opportunity he needed and wanted. Cameras flashed. The crowd was in a frenzy, dying for the perfect morning headline. He decided to seize his moment of glory.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Yesterday, our divers pulled a woman's body from the river, burned and mutilated. Forensics shows it was one of our own, Officer Alyssa Saladino. She was working undercover in the red-light district, replacing another murdered officer, Sandra Henning. The entire department's efforts led to the determination that Troy Sinclair, recently released from Joliet Prison, played a personal role in Ms. Saladino's disappearance and the crimes that unfolded here tonight. Unfortunately, Mr. Sinclair, with possible assistance from an underworld crime boss, Frank DiVito, managed to evade capture and is at large. We believe a federal law enforcement officer was shot tonight, but I can't confirm that at this time. I'm not at liberty to release any further details, but I assure you that I am heading this investigation, and we are on top of it. I will not stop until the case is marked closed."

While the reporters clamored for more information and cameras flashed, Chief Richard Harrison left the stage, smiling.

"That went well, I think." He walked briskly to his car.

"Sir, will you be headed for the station?" An officer opened the Chief's car door.

"No, I believe I will call it a night. Start with a fresh mind tomorrow. Our perp can enjoy our fine establishment tonight." The officer nodded and closed the door.

Harrison chuckled. "I warned her. She should have gone back to New York and kept her pretty little nose out of my town. Now — if I have anything to say about it, she can enjoy prison life."

*****

Sammy entered the hospital, eager to get an update on Jake. Puzzled by the laughter from the operating room, he hurried in that direction.

As he entered the room, Sammy demanded, "What's going on? This is a sterile operating room, not a debriefing room. You don't look like FBI."

Four men spun around, revealing Jake sitting on the bed, laughing.

Sammy was confused. "Jake — I thought you were shot."

"I was, but I listened to my superiors —"

A tall, lanky cowboy chuckled and interjected, "For once."

Another round of laughter exploded.

Jake laughed and continued, "I was wearing a bulletproof vest." He raised his shirt, exposing the dark bruising on his chest. "Not bad, huh?"

"And the arm?" Sammy could see the bloody bandages and medical tools on the table.

"Took a bullet, but it's not the first one. Doc says it's clean. So, I'll survive."

"Are these guys responsible for the quick rescue and recovery? I've heard Chief Harrison didn't take your disappearance very well."

"Thanks for your help tonight." The cowboy removed his stetson and extended his hand toward Sammy. His steel-blue eyes were warm and friendly. "I'm Garth Woodman, and these are my fellow agents, Tango, Poppa, and Lance." They all wore Western wear. "They dressed the part, staying close to our friend here. They heard the crack of the gun and saw Jake go down. Thanks to quick thinking, they had him out before anyone knew what was happening."

"I appreciate the recovery, guys, but did you have to be so rough?" Jake made a face at the crew.

Tango laughed. "A little payback, my friend."

Their boisterous laughter filled the room again.

"I'd like to check on Troy if that's possible, Sammy."

"Of course, but Frankie wants to talk to you first. It's been a busy night for our team as well."

Jake was surprised. "Frank had his guys at the bar? He doesn't get involved in the town's business."

Sammy chuckled. "Frankie went above and beyond for you, my friend. Most of the patrons in the park were his guests. You'll have a lot of witnesses to what went down. Three of his best tossed your shooter in the trunk of Frank's sedan."

Jake smirked. "Is he buried in some field by now? And how did Frank know?"

"We've had a tail on the Chief. We've got nice shots of Harrison driving his classic car. Oh yeah, a juicy one of him picking up Marcos, your shooter."

Garth smiled and shook his head. "Why'd you call us, Jake? Looks like you had your own backup already."

"I didn't know. Frankie keeps things close to his chest."

Sammy smiled. "The boss doesn't forget the pact. There's a spot in his heart, especially for you."

Jake slipped off the bed, wobbled, and then found his balance. "Well, guys, if Sammy leads the way, you're about to meet the best Crime Boss in Illinois."

Garth pushed a wheelchair toward Jake. "Only if you ride."

Tango stood behind the wheelchair. "Hang on, pal. My driving skills are rusty." He steered the chair toward the door, purposely bumping into the doorjamb. "Oops!"

"Frank's in his study. You guys can interrogate Marcos afterward before our guys tire of babysitting the loud-mouth creep." Sammy turned to Jake. I'll take you to Troy's room while they are busy."

A beautiful woman stood in the doorway of another room. Jake's eyes widened as he recognized her.

"Sammy, that's —"

"A patient with amnesia. She's become friendly with Troy. He's given her the name of Alyssa."

Jake's eyebrows raised as he asked, "Any more secrets you'd like to share?"

"That's enough for tonight. Frankie's waiting." Sammy knocked and opened the door, allowing the group to enter the study.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents


Chapter 16
Living On The Edge - Chap 16

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 15
Jake slipped off the bed, wobbled, and then found his balance. "Well, guys, if Sammy leads the way, you're about to meet the best Crime Boss in Illinois."

Garth pushed a wheelchair toward Jake. "Only if you ride."

Tango stood behind the wheelchair. "Hang on, pal. My driving skills are rusty." He steered the chair toward the door, purposely bumping into the doorjamb. "Oops!"

"Frank's in his study. You guys can interrogate Marcos afterward before our guys tire of babysitting the loud-mouth creep." Sammy turned to Jake. I'll take you to Troy's room while they are busy."

A beautiful woman stood in the doorway of another room. Jake's eyes widened as he recognized her.

"Sammy, that's —"

"A patient with amnesia. She's become friendly with Troy. He's given her the name of Alyssa."

Jake's eyebrows raised as he asked, "Any more secrets you'd like to share?"

"That's enough for tonight. Frankie's waiting." Sammy knocked and opened the door, allowing the group to enter the study.
*****


CHAPTER 16

A pile of morning newspapers from Rockford and the surrounding counties covered Penny's desk, each boasting a headline that would send shivers down one's spine. The articles described in gruesome detail the shocking revelations made by Chief Richard Harrison during his impromptu press conference the previous night.

Penny and Rob enjoyed a date night with dinner at a new restaurant and a movie afterward, so neither was aware of the events until Penny found the newspapers on her desk. As she read the headlines, she grew increasingly confused. It was inconceivable that Layla had murdered anyone and Jake had been shot.

The office was buzzing. Some officers gathered near the coffee station, sharing their thoughts over a cup of fresh brew, while others engaged in heated debates on their phones. Penny was meticulously scanning through each article, scouring for an explanation that could shed some light on the situation. She couldn't wrap her head around how things had gone so wrong, at least in her opinion.

At precisely eight o'clock, the Chief stormed through the office entrance, his face set in a scowl, his footsteps echoing loudly. Everyone scrambled back to their desks, trying to look busy, and the room fell silent. Instead of basking in the glory of the previous night's triumph, the Chief's face was contorted with anger, his face a bright red.

The Chief's voice boomed across the room, "Damn it, Penny, my coffee! You're not paid to sit around reading newspapers. Get me my coffee!"

"Yes, sir." She jolted up from her seat, realizing she had nowhere to go. Her eyes darted nervously toward the door and then to the coffee station. She considered giving the Chief office coffee and instantly rejected it.

With a deep breath, she straightened her back and mentally forced her legs to carry her across the room in search of the Chief's daily coffee delivery. And as if by magic, the barista from the specialty coffee shop appeared.

Unaware of the room's tension, the young man smiled and chirped, "Sorry I'm late. A problem —" but the intense atmosphere in the room silenced him. He quickly handed Penny the Chief's coffee and pastries and hurried away.

Penny rushed toward the Chief's office with the delivery, only for him to abruptly push her aside. She flattened against the door, her eyes wide with surprise, as he charged past her.

His voice boomed, bringing everyone to attention. "Will one of you morons tell me if the missing body has been found?"

The room fell silent. Everyone avoided looking directly at him. Richard Harrison towered over the desks, purposely moving from one to the next. Finally, picking his victim, he crouched so he was level with the seated officer and shouted, "Well, has the body been found?"

The chosen officer cleared his throat and answered, "No, sir. Not to my knowledge."

Harrison stood, surveyed the room, and growled, "Not to your knowledge! I gave an order last night to find him. Now, get out of my sight until it's done. I don't want the FBI crawling all over this place, do you hear me? Find him." Satisfied that everyone understood his demand, he turned and marched back into his office, slamming the door.

Chairs scraped the floor, officers grabbed their coffee, and each raced to leave before he exploded again.

*****

Lost in her thoughts, Penny jumped in surprise when her intercom button buzzed. "Penny, tell holding to escort Ms. Saladino to the Interrogation Room."

"Yes, sir. But Chief, I can't believe Layla Saladino is a murderer."

He snarled, "Anyone can be a murderer in the right situation. She wanted someone to pay for her sister's death. I don't know why she thought it was Tommy instead of Troy. Jake probably convinced her since he always had a soft side for Sinclair."

"Sir —"

"Just do your job, and I'll do mine. Now call holding." Richard Harrison didn't want to hear anyone's opinion on Layla Saladino's innocence.

Deciding he might owe his college buddy a heads-up, he called New York and left a brief message on the answering machine. "Tyler, it's Richard Harrison. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. I've got Layla Saladino in my interrogation room. She was brought in under suspicion of murder. Sorry, man." He hung up the phone, smiling.

*****

"Dear Lord, this can't be happening. My sister is missing, I'm in jail, and Jake might be dead. Please give me strength. I ask forgiveness and mercy for what I've done. Lead me into the light. Amen."

Layla was numb. She remembered bits and pieces of the events that led to the Chief ordering her to be detained. Her skin still crawled when she thought of the hands around her throat and the sudden adrenaline surge when she twisted and shoved the knife into her attacker's gut. From that moment, her life blurred. The Chief's face haunted her, but she wasn't sure why. Her wrists hurt from being handcuffed.

She found herself in an isolated holding cell with two benches, a pad for a bed, a metal toilet, and a sink. Other than the slamming of steel doors, it had been quiet, and hours passed before a woman guard shined her flashlight through the bars and into her face.

Afraid to sleep, Layla cowered in the corner, fearful of what might come next. She had no idea of the time, but when a second guard made rounds, she asked for a phone call or a lawyer. He took note of her request but chose to ignore it.

As daylight filtered into the hallway from the tiny barred windows near the ceiling, she prayed this mistake would soon end. Little did she understand that the Chief wouldn't be happy until she was behind bars for good.

*****

Richard Harrison watched through the observation glass as the guard brought Layla into the interrogation room. Her puffy eyes and dark circles gave him satisfaction, knowing she'd had a sleepless night.

He chuckled and said, "Well, my princess, it's time you fell from your high horse. This is my town, and you should have heeded my warnings."

He entered the interrogation room and tossed a file on the table before pulling out a chair and sitting. He glared at her, hoping to add another layer of misery.

"Good morning, Ms. Saladino. I hope you had a pleasant evening at our establishment. It's not the Ritz, but we try to do our best."

He'd hoped to spark her anger but only received a blank stare for his efforts. He tried again, "Cat got your tongue? Or have you given up the fight already? What a shame. I was so looking forward to our chat."

She hated his arrogant attitude. Deep inside, the will to fight was simmering, preparing for battle. She didn't know where her strength came from but knew it was there. She might face a lifetime in prison if he won, but at least she'd have given it her best.

Harrison nodded to the guard. "You can remove the handcuffs. Make our guest comfortable." After removing the handcuffs, he smirked at Layla. "Are you comfy now?"

"I'm not your guest. You're holding me against my will."

Layla rubbed her wrists but stared at the man across the table. Her eyes shifted to his hands. A few jagged scratches were visible.

He looked at his hand and smiled. "I lost a battle with my wife's roses. Just some nasty scratches. Far less treacherous than the mark you left on your victim." He hoped she'd take the bait.

Layla's eyes filled with anger. "Victim."

Harrison laughed. "So, you can talk; I was afraid you'd lost your voice in that damp holding cell."

Layla hated herself for lashing out. Her following words were calm. "Aren't I entitled to a lawyer?"

"Of course, is that what you want?" His grin turned her stomach. He could see the hate in her eyes and smiled. "But if you're innocent as you claim, what's the harm in a friendly conversation? You've nothing to hide, do you?"

He'd drawn Layla in; she wouldn't back down from a face-off with him whether she liked it or not.

"I'm innocent. I was defending myself." Layla's voice was bitter.

Harrison calmly replied, "Your victim was one of my police officers."

Layla yelled, "Victim? You mean murderer, don't you?"

"Murderer? Strong words. Do you have evidence to back them up?"

"Where do I begin?" Layla knew she should wait for a lawyer, but she couldn't stop herself and knew he was well aware of it.

She'd taken his bait, and Harrison couldn't be happier. The fun was about to begin. He looked directly into Layla's eyes and grinned. "Fairytales usually start at the beginning. How about we start there?"

"You mean when you and your department dropped the ball. Someone had to look for my sister."

He didn't appreciate her snide remark. "Just tell me your story, Ms. Saladino."

"When I first met you, you called my sister a prostitute and claimed you didn't know her. You told me she was classified as missing, but later, you suggested she'd taken a vacation. Never once did you mention that she worked for you. Was that a bald-faced lie or an oversight?"

Harrison flipped through the folder, stalling for time. He hadn't expected her to recover so quickly. Layla sensed she'd struck a nerve. She waited, wondering what his answer would be.

He hedged his answer, "Neither. Your sister worked undercover. It was my duty to keep her identity a secret."

"Your duty! Your duty was to protect her and find her."

"Protect her from what? There was no sign of a crime except your ranting about a video phone call. You had no proof. It could have been a joke, as far as I know."

Layla laughed. "I was looking for help, Chief Harrison, not appeasement. I met Jake, and he offered to help, which is something you weren't willing to do."

Harrison's smile disappeared, and he snarled, "So you and your Knight in Shining Armor decided to continue the investigation on your own. Is that correct?"

"Tell me, Chief, have you or your department found any suspects? How's your investigation going, or is there even one in place?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to share that information with you, especially considering the circumstances that brought you here today."

"Circumstances!! A man with a tattoo on his right hand is out there killing women, and you are going to accuse me. You're a bit confused."

"Correct me if I am wrong, but you are the one who killed my officer. I just want to learn the facts. So how about you continue with your story."

"Where's Jake? Have you asked him about all this? Are you aware that he's FBI? Shouldn't he be here too?"

"I'm afraid your Knight skipped out on you last night. I had word he was shot, but at the moment, we've not been able to locate him. You only have his word that he's FBI."

"Has the FBI been notified? Shouldn't they be made aware that he's missing?"

"I'm afraid his whereabouts or safety are not of concern to you. If he were on the case, he'd be here, right? Instead, he's chosen to disappear."

Layla buried her face in her hands. "You're lying to me. Jake can't be dead. He was trying to help."

Harrison leaned back in his chair, smirking, "Guess you should have thought about all possible consequences before you got him involved."

A knock on the interrogation room door irritated the Chief. He snarled, "We're busy in here. I don't want to be disturbed."

Penny tapped again but cracked the door open so she could speak. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid there's a gentleman in your office demanding to speak to you."

"Tell him I'm busy."

"I tried, sir, but he's insisting. Something about the information you gave the press about the body. Penny's eyes darted to Layla and away before adding, "Alyssa's body."

Layla lifted her head and screamed, "I told you it's not my sister's body!"

Harrison's temper was boiling. He stormed into the hallway, kicking a chair aside, screaming for the guard to watch Layla, and headed to his office. No one interrupted him in the interrogation room. Not even God! Whoever this was would get a piece of his mind.
 
"Some idiot is going to get his ass chewed!"

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents


Chapter 17
Living On The Edge - Chap 17

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 16
A knock on the interrogation room door irritated the Chief. He snarled, "We're busy in here. I don't want to be disturbed."

Penny tapped again but cracked the door open so she could speak. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid there's a gentleman in your office demanding to speak to you."

"Tell him I'm busy."

"I tried, sir, but he's insisting. Something about the information you gave the press about the body. Penny's eyes darted to Layla and away before adding, "Alyssa's body."

Layla lifted her head and screamed, "I told you it's not my sister's body!"

Harrison's temper was boiling. He stormed into the hallway, kicking a chair aside, screaming for the guard to watch Layla, and headed to his office. No one interrupted him in the interrogation room. Not even God! Whoever this was would get a piece of his mind.

"Some idiot is going to get his ass chewed!"

*****


CHAPTER 17

Sammy closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the delightful fragrance of the flowers. As he slowly opened his eyes, a stunning display of lilies greeted him in varying red, pink, orange, and white hues. Each petal seemed to glow in the sun's warm embrace. Memories of his mother and her garden flooded his thoughts whenever he saw them — one reason he'd chosen not to return to his hometown since her funeral.

He looked away, temporarily setting aside his memories. Today, the doctors suggested he chat with Alyssa, encouraging her to think about the past and who she was. She loved the atrium, so the setting was perfect. He wanted her to feel calm and relaxed.

As Alyssa entered the garden, the sun cast a warm, golden glow that illuminated her lovely features. She glanced around and recognized Sammy. She felt as if she was intruding and turned to leave.

He'd heard her footsteps and turned around to greet her. "Hello, Alyssa. Have you come to soak in the sunshine? It's a gorgeous day," he said with a grin.

She smiled. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later if you wish."

"Nonsense. Come in and join me." A monarch fluttered over her head and settled upon a Stargazer Lily as if it were waiting for her. Sammy chuckled. "See, even the butterflies were waiting to say hello."

She joined in his laughter and followed him toward a bistro table near the fountain. "I love it here. I'll miss it when I leave," she said with a hint of sadness.

"The doctors tell me your memory is improving day by day. Are you comfortable remembering, or does it seem frightening to you?"

"A little of both, I guess. I don't remember how I got here, but I'm thankful I did. I can't imagine being out there alone, though I wonder if anyone is missing me." She studied her hands briefly and asked, "Do you know who I am?"

Sammy nodded. "I do, but the doctors felt it better for you to remember on your own."

Alyssa nodded and then let out a long sigh. "They are the doctors, so I suppose they are right, but — darn it, I want my life back."

Sammy reached out and patted her hand. "Don't get upset. It will come in time. Do you want to share what you remember so far?"

"It's as though the fog is lifting. I remember having a sister, and we were pretty close, I think. Unfortunately, I can't recall her name or why she moved to a big city. I feel as if I have always been a country girl."

Sammy nodded. "I'm sure your sister loves you very much, regardless of whether she lives far away in one of our concrete jungles. I prefer the rolling countryside, too."

"As for my job, that one's up in the air. Sometimes, I think I've been an investigator or a researcher. I wonder if I worked as a librarian or, even better, as a reporter." Alyssa laughed. "Being a crime reporter intrigues me, probably because I have been reading a detective story at night and not because I have any skills."

Sammy chimed in, "Perhaps you could have been a cop, a Lady Dick Tracy.

Alyssa scrunched up her nose at the idea. "No, I don't think so. The thought of walking the beat and writing parking tickets seems quite dull."

Sammy laughed. "It sounds like you prefer jobs with a bit more excitement. What about being a private investigator tracking down the dirt?"

"Ugh! Are you suggesting I dig through my neighbor's dirty laundry?"

Sammy joked, "Well, I could introduce you to some characters in the underworld, but it's better if you stay away. You're too pretty to get involved with those thugs."

"Speaking of thugs, I remember seeing this lady dressed in red, like in the gangster days. A man was stalking her."

"Whoa, that's crazy. What happened?" Sammy wondered if she remembered working in the red-light district.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. Every time I see her, she walks down the sidewalk and disappears. But the man who follows her - he gives me chills. I can't see his face except for his piercing eyes. I get the feeling he's a dangerous man." She shivered and turned away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Sammy was afraid he'd pushed her too far.

"No, it's okay. I know those eyes are significant, but I don't know why."

Changing the subject, Sammy asked, "Are you going to visit Troy today?"

"Of course!" A pink hue crept across her cheeks. "We've become — friends. The doctors say he can come to the atrium soon. I can't wait."

After a moment of silence, she added, "Sammy, I don't mean to pry, but I feel like Troy's holding something back - something he's afraid to share with me. You know him better than I do. Do you think it's possible?" She hesitated and then questioned, "He doesn't have a wife, does he?"

Alyssa looked to Sammy for an answer, but a familiar voice called out from the entrance before he could respond. Troy appeared, grinning widely as the nurse pushed his wheelchair towards them. "Hello, Sunshine," he said, his eyes fixed on Alyssa. "I couldn't wait any longer, so I came to find you myself."

The nurse laughed and playfully pinched Troy's cheek. "You're a troublemaker, Troy. Will you be okay getting back to your room with Alyssa?"

"Of course," Alyssa replied, smiling. "I'll be happy to get him back to his room."

Sammy teased his friend. "On that note, I bid my adieu since my friend only has eyes for you, my dear." Alyssa blushed, her eyes downcast.

Troy chuckled. "Can you blame me? That mug of yours would scare people in the dark."

"And it has, my friend." Sammy exchanged a meaningful look with Troy before bidding them farewell and walking away with the nurse.
 
*****

As they exchanged pleasantries, Troy's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Were you and Sammy talking about me?"

Alyssa's eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Troy let out a hearty laugh. "Don't be upset. I'm not. You wouldn't be asking if you weren't interested."

Alyssa lifted her head and gazed into his mischievous eyes. "And how would you feel if I was?"

"I'd be on cloud nine! Or does that sound like I've been living on morphine too long?" He laughed. "Seriously, I'd be offended if you weren't interested. And to answer your question, no —I am not, nor have I ever, been married. I've been waiting for the right girl to come my way. How about you?"

Alyssa stared at her hands. "I don't think I am. There's no ring on my finger, and I haven't any memories of a man except for the scary guy following a woman in a red dress. He definitely wouldn't be my type."

Troy studied her and wondered what Alyssa remembered and how much of those memories included her hostility towards him. He had planned on sharing his past today but decided it might not be the right time. His thoughts spiraled as he wondered if there would ever be the right time.

*****

Harrison's uninvited guest had made himself at home in the Chief's office. He had kicked up his feet, resting his boots comfortably on the desk, the leather chair creaking slightly under his weight. With a satisfied grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, he watched, almost eagerly, like a bull waiting to be released into an arena. His black Stetson hat, now a symbol of his authority, rested on an empty flower vase.

As expected, the Chief took a quick break to relieve himself after drinking a hefty thirty-two ounces of coffee that morning. However, the caffeine still circulated through his veins, adding to his already boiling anger.

Frantic, Penny rushed to her desk and redirected all incoming calls to her phone. She kept glancing at the door of the men's room and the Chief's office. Meanwhile, the man at the Chief's desk seemed calm and content to wait.

The tension in the air was thick, like the stillness that preceded the gunshot at the start of a championship race. She waited for the Chief to return, hoping things would not escalate further but knowing it would.

*****

Intent on Harrison arriving, she jumped at the sudden ringing of her phone. Grabbing the receiver, she answered, "Rockford Police Department. Penny speaking."

A familiar voice on the other end of the line whispered, "Penny, don't scream. It's Jake."

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the voice. "Oh, my God--"

"Don't say my name. Control yourself," Jake cautioned.

"Do you know the Chief has the entire department scouring the city looking for your body?" Penny whispered in disbelief."

"I know, and I hate to disappoint Harrison, but I 'm still alive."

Penny hissed into the receiver, "Where are you?"

"That doesn't matter. Is Harrison in his office with a tall, distinguished Texan?"

"Harrison is emptying his bladder, but the tall cowboy is relaxing in the Chief's chair."

Jake chuckled. "Plug your ears because the windows are going to rattle. I know Harrison's temper, but I'll bet my money on the cowboy any day. He's calm and measures out every word before he says it. The Chief, on the other hand, will be a raging bull."

"You've got that," Penny agreed.

"Who's in the interrogation room with Layla?" Jake asked, changing the subject.

"How do you know where she's at?" Penny looked around, wondering where he was hiding. Finally, she answered his question. "It's Ruby."

"Perfect! When the Chief enters his office, I'm going to see Layla."

"You can't —" Penny protested.

"I can and I will. Ruby will not give me any guff. And I can count on the Texan to keep the Chief busy. I'll be in and out in five minutes."

"If the Chief sees you—"

"I promise you he won't."

Penny felt a trickle of sweat run down her back. "He is headed toward his office as we speak. Please be careful."

"No worries." Jake disconnected the call.

*****

Harrison stormed through the outer office, charging between the desks like a bull, his eyes fixed on his office door. Reaching it, he swung it open with a sharp jerk, causing it to slam into the wall as he stepped inside.

He glared at the man sitting in his chair. "Who the hell do you think you are coming into my office, acting like some big shot? That's my desk where your fancy boots are resting, and I advise you to get them off of there before I do it for you."

A grin crossed Garth's face as he slowly stood. His six-foot-two frame towered over Harrison's five-nine. He brushed his hand across the top of the mahogany desk and then bent down, blowing his breath across it. He walked around the desk, waved his hand, and drawled, "It's all yours. Too lumpy for my taste anyhow."

Harrison's face turned a darker shade of red, and he snarled, "I don't know who you are, but my name's on the door. That means I decide what goes on. Your business will have to wait because I'm in the middle of interrogating a murder suspect."

"No, Mr. Harrison, I'm afraid you're mistaken." Garth extended his hand to Harrison as a friendly gesture.

Ignoring Garth's hand, Harrison walked around to his chair and sat. "I don't make mistakes," he growled, glaring at the cowboy.

Unruffled, Garth tried again. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Garth Woodman. I am the Senior Special Agent, and I work directly for the Director of the FBI in Washington D.C."

"Don't mean nothing to me. You don't have any jurisdiction here."

"Unfortunately, you are misinformed, Mr. Harrison."

Unimpressed, the Chief growled, "And your ears must be plugged. It's Chief Harrison. Now get the hell out."

But the cowboy wasn't going anywhere. "I'm afraid that's not how it's going to work. For starters, I will sit in on your interrogation of Ms. Saladino."

Richard's voice boomed, "Like hell you are. Get your boss on the phone. This is my town, and I run it. You yokels aren't coming in here and taking over my case."

Garth's tone was calm and measured as he responded, "Didn't your mother ever teach you anything about bullies?" He then pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and handed the phone to Harrison. "His name is Director John Weldon. He might let you sit in on my interrogation if you talk nicely."

Richard Harrison sputtered as he spoke into the phone, "Hello, Director Weldon."
*****

Garth left the office and sauntered over to Penny, his rugged cowboy demeanor charming her. "Darlin', could a poor thirsty cowboy get a cup of coffee?"

Penny found herself completely lost in Garth's piercing blue eyes as she replied, "Coffee? Yes, sir. I just made a fresh pot." She quickly jumped from her chair, trying to calm her wildly beating heart as she hurried towards the coffee station. "Sugar, do you want coffee?" Penny's face turned a bright red. "I meant, do you want sugar with your coffee?"
 
Garth chuckled. "Black will be fine."

*****

Jake checked the hallway before quietly slipping through the back entrance. He could feel his heart racing as he made his way towards the interrogation room. He opened the door with a sudden push, startling the two women inside. Layla looked at him in disbelief, her eyes widening in surprise, but Ruby recovered from her shock quickly, although a concerned look still lingered on her face.

"Jake, if you get caught —" Ruby started, but Jake interrupted her.

"I know, I know. I just needed a minute to tell her I was alive and everything would be okay," Jake said, moving to Layla's side. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I can't stay, but you need to be strong. It will be over soon, I promise. My friend, Garth Woodman, is with the FBI, and right this very minute, he is telling Harrison that he's no longer in charge."

Jake kissed Layla's cheek, and she leaned into him. His lips briefly met hers, and he felt a pang of longing as he pulled away. "I gotta go. Just stay strong, okay?"

Layla nodded, and Jake turned to Ruby. "Thanks, Ruby. I owe you a big one." He glanced at Layla, then opened the door and disappeared.

Ruby smiled and squeezed Layla's shoulder. "Girl, that man's a keeper."

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents


Chapter 18
Living On The Edge - Chap 18

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 17

Jake checked the hallway before quietly slipping through the back entrance. He could feel his heart racing as he approached the interrogation room. He opened the door with a sudden push, startling the two women inside. Layla looked at him in disbelief, her eyes widening in surprise, but Ruby recovered from her shock quickly, although a concerned look still lingered on her face.

"Jake, if you get caught —" Ruby started, but Jake interrupted her.

"I know, I know. I just needed a minute to tell her I was alive and everything would be okay," Jake said, moving to Layla's side. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I can't stay, but you need to be strong. It will be over soon, I promise. My friend, Garth Woodman, is with the FBI, and right this very minute, he is telling Harrison that he's no longer in charge."

Jake kissed Layla's cheek, and she leaned into him. His lips briefly met hers, and he felt a pang of longing as he pulled away. "I gotta go. Just stay strong, okay?"

Layla nodded, and Jake turned to Ruby. "Thanks, Ruby. I owe you a big one." He glanced at Layla, then opened the door and disappeared.

Ruby smiled and squeezed Layla's shoulder. "Girl, that man's a keeper."
 
*****
 
CHAPTER 18

The guard's flashlight banged against the cell bars, illuminating the hallway as the sun peeked over the horizon. "Rise and shine, sweetheart."

Layla awoke from her sleep, disoriented and confused. She looked around, momentarily forgetting where she was. Then, she remembered, and fear took hold. Her voice quivered as she asked, "What's happening?"

"Time for you to get up and get ready to go."

"Where am I going? I don't understand." Terror filled Layla's sleep-filled eyes, and her heart raced.

"It's not my place, but—" She checked to see if anyone could hear. She whispered, "The Chief's aiming to one-up the FBI guy. He's moved the interrogation up, and then he's sending you away."

Layla's eyes widened with fear as she scrambled from the bed and ran closer to the guard. "But he can't do that, can he? I thought —"

"Until the Chief gets something in writing from the FBI, he's still in charge. I don't understand all the legal stuff, and honestly, I don't think the Chief does either. He's so used to doing everything his way, and that's what he's doing."

"Someone has to stop him!" Desperate, Layla pleaded with the guard. "Please get a message to Jake. Please!"

*****

Sammy lightly tapped on the door and slowly pushed it open, peeking his head into the room. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said with a smile.

Troy groaned, "You've got that all wrong, my friend."

Sammy walked to the side of the bed, assessing Troy's condition. "Rough night? I'm told you didn't sleep much and were asking for me. What's up?"

Another light knock at the door made both of them turn. A nurse carrying a tray with coffee and donuts entered the room. "Good morning, Sammy. Troy. A little birdy told me you gentlemen could use a morning pick-me-up." She set the tray down and smiled. "Just let me know if you need anything else."

 
"Thanks, Hannah." Sammy waited until the door closed behind her and then returned to Troy. "I don't know about you, but I've got to have my morning coffee to get my engines running."

Troy chuckled. "Sammy, you love your coffee, but as far as your engines revving, I don't think you ever turn them off. How do you do it?"

"It's a well-oiled machine." Sammy stared into his coffee cup, thinking. "Times have changed. The boss has his finger on the family's pulse, but he's no longer interested in being the tough guy. He does things that you good guys can't, but it's all for the good. He saved your life, didn't he?"

Troy grinned. "Yeah, a gangster saving a cop's life. Who would have thought!" They both nodded and chuckled at the thought.

Sammy sipped his coffee, carefully studying his friend. "But that's not what you wanted to talk to me about, right? I'm guessing it's Alyssa. Am I right?"

Troy turned away, staring out the window. He'd fought with his emotions throughout the night, and he still wasn't sure what to do.

"You like her, don't you?" Sammy asked. The gangster's voice was gentle.

Troy nodded, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. His voice was barely above a whisper when he answered. "Maybe."

Sammy chuckled softly. "You aren't fooling me. I see how you look at her. You spent four years of your life —" Sammy paused, changing his tactics. "Put that behind you, man. You've got a chance. Take it."

"But Sammy —" Troy's voice filled with doubt. "She's remembering things. What if she can't put it behind her? What if she still hates me?" Troy shook his head, adding, "I never knew it was Frankie who got my sentence reduced."

Sammy chuckled as he drank his coffee. "It cost him a fortune to set her up overseas, but I doubt he minds. He thinks he's sly, but those long business trips to Spain are just monkey business if you catch my drift. Let him have his fun. He's earned it, after all. And what's more, he's gotten those false charges dropped!"

"I appreciate that, but this town has a long memory. They might forget, but they'll always wonder."

"What if they do? You're a free man." Sammy set his coffee cup on the table. "But you don't care about what the town thinks, do you? You're afraid that Alyssa won't believe you."

"She hated me, Sam. She believed I murdered her friend." Troy shook his head and turned away, trying to hide his pain.

"But you didn't! And everyone, including Alyssa, is going to know it very soon. Your brother will answer for his crimes. He can't hide behind that badge any longer."

"Should I take my chances and talk to her?"

"Neither of you are going to be here much longer. How do you think she'll react if she finds out from someone else or remembers it? At least, if you tell her, you'll get a chance to explain." Sammy stood and patted Troy's arm. "I've seen her with you, Troy. She cares about you."

Troy closed his eyes and sighed. "You're right, Sam. It's better to know now than lose her later."

"Okay, I have to go. I hope I helped." Sammy left Troy's room, praying he hadn't made a mistake.

*****

Layla's hands and face were sweaty as she nervously waited for Richard Harrison's pompous self to descend upon her. She had trusted Jake when he told her he would rescue her from this man's deception, yet here she was.

"How can he do this, Ruby? I was told the interrogation was scheduled for nine o'clock. It's seven thirty." Layla knew it was useless, but she felt it necessary to file her complaint.

Ruby shrugged. "He does what he wants, and I do what I'm told."

"Can't someone stop him?" Layla hated herself for whining, but her nerves were hanging on by a thread. She whispered to herself, "Jake, where are you? You promised!"

The door finally opened, but Layla's prayers weren't about to be answered. An angry Richard Harrison stormed into the room and snarled, "Why isn't the prisoner in handcuffs?"

Ruby's eyes widened, and she stammered, "Pri—son—er? She's here for questioning, sir. I didn't think —"

"That's right! YOU DIDN'T THINK!" His voice boomed. "Get me some coffee and not that sludge that's been sitting there all night." He glared at the guard. "Where's Penny? She knows what I want."

 
Ruby didn't know whether to answer or run. Glancing at Layla's terrified expression, she chose to run. "I'll find Penny and —" she gulped, "Get your coffee, sir. Right away."

Layla watched as Ruby hurried out of the room. She couldn't blame her because, given the chance, she'd run too.

Harrison kicked the chair leg, knocking it away from the table. He grabbed the chair back and placed it where he wanted it, sitting down with his legs stretched out in front of him, smirking.

Layla stared at him, feeling like David facing off with Goliath. She silently told herself if he could do it, so could she. She straightened her shoulders and smiled. "Get up on the wrong side of the bed, Chief?"

"You can wipe that smug look off your face, Ms. Saladino. I'm doing my job, and the cavalry is going to be late." Harrison stood and walked around the table, standing behind Layla.

"Trying to intimidate me, Chief?" Layla forced herself to smile. "What next? You going to put your gun to my head?" He placed his hands on her shoulder, then withdrew them.

She'd hit her mark!

Silently, the Chief circled the table, returned to his chair, and growled, "Let's get this over with. I'm tired of playing games." He opened a folder and shuffled through the papers before glaring at Layla. "Now, Ms. Saladino, about the night you murdered one of my officers —"

"That's your version! I believe the jury's still out on my self-defense claim. Oh wait, you've made yourself the judge and the jury, right?"

Refusing to let her bait him again, he shot one of his own jabs.

"Why don't you continue spinning your best seller? You've got me on pins and needles about your version."

Layla glared at him. "I'm not spinning anything. It's the truth."

Harrison jumped out of his chair in a rage, knocking it over with a loud thud. "You little bi—?""

A knock at the door startled him, and he stopped mid-sentence. Scowling, he swung open the door, expecting Penny with his coffee. "It's about time." His jaw dropped as he stared at a corridor of stern-looking FBI officers.

"Chief Harrison, my team and I will join you this morning." Garth's voice was crisp and authoritative.

Harrison's blood boiled at the mere thought of the FBI invading his turf. "Like hell you are."

Garth tipped his Stetson and smiled. "You might say, the devil has arrived." Without another word, the FBI agent strode past the Chief, followed closely by his team.

Penny followed and stood in the doorway. "Your coffee, sir," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I'll get some more chairs."

*****

Alyssa hummed a melodious tune she had heard on the radio as her mind wandered through her daydreams. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow on her face as she watched the butterflies fluttering their colorful wings from flower to flower. As she thought about Troy, a sudden rush of emotions overwhelmed her, and it felt like the butterflies were dancing in her stomach. Alyssa picked a daisy, twirling it between her fingers, and started plucking its petals one by one, murmuring to herself, "He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me."

A giggle escaped her lips, but she quickly scolded herself for being silly. "We've just met. Besides, I don't even know who I am." She thought for a moment. "What if I am a bad person, a mass murderer?" The idea sent shivers down her spine, and she dismissed it as impossible, but the question lingered in her mind, "Who am I?"

As Hannah pushed the wheelchair into the atrium, she and Troy were laughing and enjoying the day. Alyssa heard their laughter and walked towards them. In unison, they all said, "Good morning." They laughed together, enjoying the moment.

Hannah said her goodbyes and left the young couple to enjoy the beauty of the atrium.

"I love this place. I could stay here forever." Alyssa tilted her face toward the sunlight. "Hmmm, it's so peaceful. Don't you love this?"

"I love watching you in the sunlight. You look so happy."

"I am happy."

"Seriously, Alyssa, one of these days, you will remember who you are. Your life is going to change again. This —" Troy hesitated, weighing his options: tell her or leave it up to chance.

"Go on. What were you going to say?" Alyssa slid her chair closer to the wheelchair. "Did you think I might not feel the same about you? It's okay if you did because I thought the same thing this morning." She laughed. "I wondered if I might be a mass murderer. Doesn't that send chills down your spine?"

Troy shook his head and firmly took her hand. "You could never be a mass murderer."

"Why not?" she said, twisting her face and snarling, "Don't I look menacing enough?"

Troy laughed with her. "You're too beautiful and kind to be a bad person."

A soft, rosy blush painted her cheeks as she lowered her gaze and asked, "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

Troy felt his heart skip a beat as he looked into her eyes. He leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss, and whispered, "From the moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were the prettiest girl in the world. You are not only beautiful on the outside but also the inside."

Alyssa's eyebrow raised inquisitively as she mischievously asked, "Beautiful enough to kiss again?"

A grin spread across Troy's face as he replied, "My mommy didn't raise no dummy. I don't need to be asked twice." He leaned in again, his lips caressing hers in a slow, passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

When the kiss ended, Troy sat up in his wheelchair and moved away from Alyssa. Worry furrowed his eyes as he struggled to find the right words to say.

Alyssa noticed the change and frowned. "What's wrong?" Didn't you like it?"

Troy turned to her, a small smile appearing on his lips. "Like it? I could keep kissing you all day."

Alyssa grinned, her heart pounding in her chest. "Me too."

Troy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I have a confession — something to tell you."

"Do I look like a priest?" Alyssa joked, hoping to lighten his mood.

"Something is growing between you and me; because of that, I need to be honest with you and tell you something."

Alyssa felt a little worried but smiled, "Okay. What is it?"

Troy's answer was interrupted as Sammy entered the atrium, startling them. Troy chided his friend, "Great timing, Sammy."

"Sorry to interrupt, but both of you were summoned to the Police Department."

Alyssa gasped, "The police?" Her eyes darted to Troy and then back to Sam. "What's going on?"

Troy's heart was racing. He inhaled deeply, asking, "Is something going down, Sam?"

"All I know is the car is waiting outside, and I'm supposed to bring the two of you there, post haste. I guess you'll find out when we get there."

As Sammy pushed the wheelchair and Alyssa walked beside it, holding Troy's hand, both wondered what awaited them at the police department. The air was thick with tension, and neither could shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents
Hannah - the nurse


Chapter 19
Living On The Edge - Chap 19

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 18
"Something is growing between you and me; because of that, I need to be honest with you and tell you something."

Alyssa felt a little worried but smiled, "Okay. What is it?"

Troy's answer was interrupted as Sammy entered the atrium, startling them. Troy chided his friend, "Great timing, Sammy."

"Sorry to interrupt, but both of you were summoned to the Police Department."

Alyssa gasped, "The police?" Her eyes darted to Troy and then back to Sam. "What's going on?"

Troy's heart was racing. He inhaled deeply, asking, "Is something going down, Sam?"

"All I know is the car is waiting outside, and I'm supposed to bring the two of you there, post haste. I guess you'll find out when we get there."

As Sammy pushed the wheelchair and Alyssa walked beside it, holding Troy's hand, both wondered what awaited them at the police department. The air was thick with tension, and neither could shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
 
*****


CHAPTER 19

The windshield wipers slapped against the glass, clearing away the gentle drizzle. Sammy navigated the black sedan through the congested parking lot and stopped near the back entrance.

"I'm sorry, but this is as close as I can get," Sammy apologized, twisting in the driver's seat to look at his passengers. Troy, keep your cool."

"That's not an easy request, Sammy." Thoughts of going inside troubled Troy. How would Alyssa react? Would the station open the floodgate and let everything rush in?

"And what about Alyssa?" His heart skipped a beat as he gazed at the trembling woman at his side, remembering how happy she'd been earlier that morning.

Confusion showed on her face.

Alyssa peered out the window at the brick building. "I feel like I've been here before." She turned, questioning Sammy. "Do you know if I have?"

Troy looked at Alyssa and then at his friend. "Sammy, this might not be a good idea."

Sammy shrugged. "I'm just following orders. The powers that be say it will be okay," Sammy replied, trying to reassure Troy.

"But I wanted to—" Troy struggled to communicate his concern to Sammy without raising Alyssa's fears.

Sammy interrupted, "I know. Maybe you'll have time to talk inside."

Alyssa turned to Troy. "Is there something I should know? You two are acting strange."

"Just me building a mountain out of a molehill. I'm right by your side, and whatever is going down, I'll be there, okay?"

She squeezed his hand. "Okay!"

Sammy sighed. "Here's the plan. I'll get Troy inside and then come back to get you. Is that okay?"

Sammy popped the trunk and exited the car. He quickly brought Troy's wheelchair around to the side of the car and eased him into it. "Hang on, pal. I'll get you out of the rain in a minute."

Poppa waited at the doorway and opened it for them. "I'll take him from here."

"Thanks. I'll get the girl." Sammy hurried back as Alyssa exited the sedan's backseat.

Droplets of rain pelted her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Sammy removed his jacket and held it over Alyssa's head, creating a makeshift shelter. Together, they hurried towards the building entrance, their feet splashing in tiny puddles.

*****

As Penny looked for more chairs, Tango followed her. His warm smile made her feel at ease, but she sensed his eyes had seen some dark times. "I'll help you," he offered.

"I appreciate the help, but it's not necessary. The Cowboy —"

"Garth?" Tango interrupted her. "He's the boss and wanted me to talk to you before our guests arrive."

"Guests? Are more people coming to this interrogation?" Penny looked around the room, concern etched on her face. "I hope we have enough space."

"I saw some empty rooms down the hallway. Maybe we could have them wait there until we need them."

Penny's eyebrows furrowed. "Is the Chief aware of this?"

"No, ma'am, I'm afraid it's a surprise."

Penny scowled, "A surprise? I didn't think the Chief and the Cowboy— sorry, Garth hit it off yesterday."

Tango laughed. "Don't worry. He rubs people the wrong way sometimes, but he's a pussycat once you get to know him."

Penny smiled, shaking her head at Tango's comparison of the man to a pussycat. "A pussycat? I'd say more like a mountain lion or maybe a black panther to match his hat."

"Good choice. Are you much of an actress?"

Tango's question caught Penny off-guard. "An actress? I suppose I've done my share of pretending, especially around this office. Why would you ask me that?"

"I'm trusting you to keep this little surprise between you and me. Can you do that?"

The thought of playing a part in the surprise excited Penny. "Of course I can!" Her eyes lit up, and she grinned. "What do you want me to do?"

"Now, don't scream —"

"Scream? Oh dear, what have I gotten into? There aren't any spiders or snakes involved, are there?"

Tango laughed out loud and then peeked down the hall to ensure no one was listening. Satisfied, he closed the door and spoke to Penny. "You were friends with the lady cop that went missing, right?"

"Ye-e-es, but they found her body in the river. It was horrible!"

"It wasn't her." He held his finger to his lips. "She's alive."

Penny threw her arms around Tango's neck and squealed, "Alyssa's alive! Oh, God, where is she?"

"Shhh! Remember, it's a surprise." Penny placed her hand over her mouth and nodded. Tango's expression was solemn as he continued, "She's coming to the station, but there is something important you need to know. She has amnesia."

"Amnesia? So, she won't remember me or anyone here?" Penny frowned at the thought.

"We aren't sure how she will react. She might remember, and she might not, but the doctors want her to do it on her own." Tango softened his tone. "Can you do that?"

Penny nodded but knew it would be difficult not to grab Allie and hug her for a long time. "Any other surprises?

"Troy and Alyssa have become good friends during their recoveries," Tango said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Troy, the Chief's brother, who was recently released from Joliet State Prison? Alyssa hates him!" Penny exclaimed, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"That might have been the case before, but not now. We must be careful. Can you do that?" Tango asked, his voice firm.

Penny couldn't hide her curiosity. "You said recoveries. So, Troy didn't skip town? Did he murder the woman in the river?"

"No, he did not. I'm not at liberty to release the information, but know that Troy is innocent of all charges."

"But his brother! Oh, my God, if Troy was telling the truth —"

Tango nodded. "Let's just leave it at that for now. By the end of the day, you and everyone else will understand."

Penny nodded, and Tango gave her a quick hug. "Let's do this." He grabbed several folding chairs and headed for the door. "Chairs first and then your first curtain call. Poppa will let you know when they arrive."

Penny giggled and thought, "A Star is Born!"

*****

Poppa led Troy and Alyssa to a small but cozy room in the police headquarters. The room was a far cry from Frankie's home, a place they both wished they were at right now.

"Both of you, okay?" Poppa thought they both looked uncomfortable.

Troy nodded, his eyes fixed on Alyssa. She glanced around the room and then at Poppa, answering, "I'm fine." Her shiver told a different story.

"Maybe some coffee would warm me up. Is that possible?"

Poppa smiled. "No problem. I'll get someone to bring a thermos and some cups. I don't know how long this will take."

Troy turned to look at Poppa. "Any idea what this is about?"

"I'm not going to lie. I do know, but at this moment, I can't tell you. Just know that you are safe. I'll be outside so no one can enter without me saying it's okay."

Alyssa nervously asked, "Are we under arrest for something?"

Poppa shook his head. "Neither of you are in trouble. The day needs to unfold just so, or things might not go as we hoped." He nodded at Troy and left the room.

"Troy, what do you think is going on? If we aren't in trouble, then who is?" Alyssa asked, her voice trembling.

Troy pondered her question but decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

*****

Poppa opened the door and poked his head in. "Your coffee is here." Poppa gave Penny an encouraging smile and whispered, "Go ahead. I'm right here if things go wrong."

Penny took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, before entering the room. She nodded at the FBI agent, straightened her shoulders, and walked in with a confident smile.

Her first sight was Allie, who was visibly shaking. Penny's heart broke at the sight of her scared friend, but she composed herself. Allie didn't seem to recognize her yet. She turned to Troy, who looked nervous, and smiled as she carefully placed the tray on the coffee table.

Troy's eyes pleaded with her as he spoke, "Hi, Penny. It's been a while, huh?"

"Too long." She replied, bending to hug him. "I'm glad you're back."

Alyssa glanced at Troy and then Penny. "You two know each other? And back from where?"

Both Troy and Penny stared at each other, but Penny recovered first. "Troy and I used to work together a long time ago. It's been a while since I've seen him, and I didn't know he was even in town."

"Oh, I'm sorry for being nosey. I haven't known Troy for very long, but we've become great friends." Alyssa lowered her eyes, afraid her face would reveal her true feelings.

Penny recognized the glint in Alyssa's eyes, and she knew there was more to their friendship than met the eye. She couldn't help but wonder if that would change when she discovered who he was.

*****

While Tango and Poppa set things in motion down the hallway, Garth leaned his tall frame against the wall, crossed his arms, and waited. A few officers found chairs at the back of the room.

Chief Harrison sat at the table across from Layla, glaring at the cowboy. The silence was deafening.

The Chief snarled, "I told you yesterday you weren't welcome. You don't have jurisdiction in a civil case."

Garth tipped his Stetson back so his eyes met the Chief. "I suppose that's why you decided to move up the time. Luckily, I'm an early riser and decided to come early."

"It's none of your business why I changed the time, but for your information, I have a meeting with the mayor later this morning."

Garth nodded and smiled. "Interesting! I had a quick coffee with him this morning, too."

"So, you went crying to the mayor, did you? I can assure you, he doesn't put his nose in my business."

"You're an appointed official, aren't you? I'd think the mayor would want to know what goes on here and throughout the city limits."

"He knows." The Chief sneered.

"Now I have to give that one to you, Richard. He does know." Garth chuckled. "I could stand here all day and play tit-for-tat, but I have things to do. I'll listen, and you can ask Ms. Saladino about her attack in the park."

"She stabbed a police officer, a guy she thought grabbed her sister. That's cold-blooded murder."

Garth's piercing blue eyes stared at the Chief as he spoke, "That's your story. Let's play fair and let Ms. Saladino tell us her side, okay?"

The Chief rifled through a folder of papers, stopping to read one or two before finally addressing Layla. "Okay, Ms. Saladino, let's get this charade over with, shall we?"

Layla looked to her side at Garth, then turned her gaze towards the Chief. "Shouldn't I have a lawyer?"

The Chief's eyes widened, and he slapped the table. "Now, you want a lawyer? I just want you to tell me what happened that night. Do you want to spend another night in the cell while you find a lawyer?"

Layla stammered, "But —"

Garth, still leaning against the wall, spoke up in a calm tone. "Ms. Saladino, I believe we can handle that for you." He turned towards the men and women sitting in the back of the room. "Alice Cunningham, aren't you licensed to practice law in Illinois?"

Trying not to laugh, she answered, "Yes, sir, I am."

"See, Chief, if it's acceptable to Ms. Saladino, Attorney Cunningham would be happy to serve as her lawyer." Garth struggled to keep his grin from his face, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

The Chief sneered, "You just happen to have a lawyer with you. How convenient."

"I thought so." Garth turned to Layla and smiled. "Would you like Ms. Cunningham to serve as your lawyer today?"

Layla looked behind her at Alice and nodded, followed by a soft "Thank you."

Alice Cunningham grabbed her folding chair and briefcase and marched toward Layla and the Chief. Once seated, she offered her hand to Layla and smiled. "Don't worry, honey. The bigger the bag of wind, the harder they fall."

Layla suppressed a laugh, but the sparkle in her eye told her new lawyer she was okay.

The Chief glared across the table at Layla's attorney. "Shall we proceed?"

"Of course, Chief. My client will be happy to share her story. Go ahead, Layla. Tell us what happened that night."

Layla cleared her throat and began, "I entered the bar —"

The Chief snarled, "Please be more specific. What bar was it, and why were you there?"

The Chief's outburst had surprised her. She hadn't expected him to pounce on her about the details. Layla glanced at her lawyer, looking for guidance.

"Chief, because of your upcoming appointment with the mayor, it might be beneficial if you allow Ms. Saladino to give her statement without interruption. I'm sure you can clarify anything after she's done."

"Appointment?" Realizing he was about to expose himself in a lie, he quickly added, "Of course, the mayor." After jotting something on a paper, he told Layla, "You can continue."

"As I was saying, Jake and I had agreed that we would arrive at the Lazy Saloon separately." Layla stopped and leaned over to her attorney, whispering, "Jake was supposed to be here. He can verify all this."

Ms. Cunningham looked across the table at the Chief. "Were you expecting Jake?" She looked expectantly at Layla. "Jake's last name?"

"Landingham — Jake Landingham. He's —"

"That's fine, Layla." She smiled and directed her next question to the Chief. "Do you know the whereabouts of this Jake Landingham?"

The Chief sputtered, "No — unfortunately, I don't."

"Let me see if I understand, Chief. In this case, Mr. Landingham is a key witness, but you don't know how to find him?"

Harrison gulped and wiped his brow. "I haven't been able to talk to Jake because I was told an unknown assailant shot him at the same time Ms. Saladino stabbed my officer."

Layla's eyes widened, and she glanced at Garth and then at her lawyer. Ms. Cunningham smiled and patted Layla's hand. "Don't upset yourself, dear." Straining to keep a straight face, she asked the Chief, "If Jake was shot, he should be in a hospital or lying in the morgue. Which is it, Chief Harrison?"
 
"This is her statement. What does it matter where Jake Landingham is at?" He turned his anger on Garth. "Ask him? He should know where his FBI Agent is. You didn't think I knew, did you?" Harrison sneered, "Sent him into my town, undercover, thinking I wouldn't find out. You had no idea who you were dealing with, did you?"

Garth laughed. "And neither do you."

Alice Cunningham pushed her chair away from the table and walked to the door. She opened it and spoke, "Would you like to join us now?"

Jake walked through the door, smiling. He briefly stopped to kiss Layla's cheek and then joined Garth, handing him an envelope. Layla recognized it as the one from Alyssa's apartment.
 
Garth laughed. "Hey, Chief, I think we just found the missing body."

For the first time since arriving at the station, Layla smiled at Richard Harrison.

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake Landingham - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents
Hannah - the nurse


Chapter 20
Living On The Edge - Chap 20

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 19
Harrison gulped and wiped his brow. "I haven't been able to talk to Jake because I was told an unknown assailant shot him at the same time Ms. Saladino stabbed my officer."

Layla's eyes widened, and she glanced at Garth and then at her lawyer. Ms. Cunningham smiled and patted Layla's hand. "Don't upset yourself, dear." Straining to keep a straight face, she asked the Chief, "If Jake was shot, he should be in a hospital or lying in the morgue. Which is it, Chief Harrison?"

"This is her statement. What does it matter where Jake Landingham is at?" He turned his anger on Garth. "Ask him? He should know where his FBI Agent is. You didn't think I knew, did you?" Harrison sneered, "Sent him into my town, undercover, thinking I wouldn't find out. You had no idea who you were dealing with, did you?"

Garth laughed, "And neither do you."

Alice Cunningham pushed her chair away from the table and walked to the door. She opened it and spoke, "Would you like to join us now?"

Jake walked through the door, smiling. He briefly stopped to kiss Layla's cheek and then joined Garth, handing him an envelope. Layla recognized it as the one from Alyssa's apartment.

Garth laughed. "Hey, Chief, we just found the missing body."

For the first time since arriving at the station, Layla smiled at Richard Harrison.
 
*****
 
CHAPTER 20

The Chief was livid; his face turned an alarming shade of red. In a rage, he leaped out of his chair and sent it crashing against the wall with a loud bang. He screamed at the top of his lungs, "Listen, Cowboy! We're done! Take your posse and get out of my precinct." He opened the door to punctuate his demands.

Unfazed by the Chief's outburst, Garth nodded at Tango, who hurried to the front of the room and closed the door, staring Harrison down.
 
"I'm afraid we're just getting started," Garth said calmly.

Fed up with the situation, Harrison turned towards the door and arrogantly announced, "I'm done with you. I'm leaving!"

"S
IT DOWN!" Garth shouted but quickly controlled himself. He lowered his voice. "I'll tell you when we're done, and I guarantee you it's not now," Garth was firm, but he refused to yell again.

"You think you can come here and tell me what to do?" Harrison retorted, "It's my town, not yours." His voice dripped with disdain.

"The first time, I asked nicely. Now, I'm telling you to sit down," Garth replied, his tone still calm and measured.

"I won't! I'm out of here." He opened the door to leave, but Tango was faster.

He grabbed the Chief's shoulders and pushed until he collapsed into the chair. Harrison rose up, striking the FBI agent's chin with his balled fist, but he was no match for Tango's lightning-fast reflexes. Tango grabbed Harrison's wrist with a vice-like grip and forced him back into his chair, effectively ending the standoff.

Harrison glared at Tango and then at Garth. He resorted to threats. "I'm going to have all your jobs."

Tango towered over the Chief. "I suggest you shut up and listen."

Garth spoke in a smooth, calming voice that exuded confidence without losing authority. "Now that's better," he said, turning towards Layla as he spoke, "Please provide us with a brief account of that night."

"We're done, Cowboy!" Harrison bellowed, his face contorted with rage and frustration. "How many times do I have to say it?"

Garth's expression remained unchanged, but he stood and spoke to the lawyer. "Alice, I guess he's determined to do this the hard way. Please ask our guests to join us."

Alice quickly opened the door, revealing three distinguished-looking men dressed in suits. They greeted Garth with firm handshakes before taking seats in the back of the room. The Chief's jaw tightened as he stared at them as they paraded into the room.

"For everyone in the room, let me introduce the Illinois Attorney General, Rockford's Mayor, and the Director of the FBI." He smiled and nodded at the Director. "He's my boss."

A polite round of applause filled the room.

"Now, since you prefer to show your ass, I am forced to do it this way." He waited a moment and then continued, "Chief Richard Harrison, by order of the Attorney General, you are permanently relieved of your duties and will no longer be considered any part of these procedures. From now on, I will be in charge of Ms. Saladino's interrogation and any procedures that might follow."

"By what authority?" Harrison realized he was losing the fight but couldn't resist one last stand. "You can't —"

"But I can, and I did by the unanimous decision of these three distinguished gentlemen." Garth nodded toward the group and then turned to face Harrison. "Listen closely. You can sit quietly while I listen to Ms. Saladino's statement, or I'll have my agent remove you in handcuffs. Do I make myself clear?"

Harrison's eyes shot daggers at Garth, but he knew no point in arguing further. He gritted his teeth and remained silent.

Satisfied, Garth pulled a chair beside Layla and asked, "My apologies, Layla, but could you brief us with a quick summary of the night?"

After taking a deep breath, Layla began telling her story. "As I walked down the street, I clutched a small knife that Jake had given me, tightly hidden within my hand. My nerves were on edge as I did not know where Jake would be."

Harrison couldn't resist taking a shot. "The weapon you used to kill my officer." Tango's hand gripped Harrison's shoulder as a warning.

Layla shifted her eyes toward Harrison and then back to her hands before she continued, "I entered the bar alone and immediately felt the eyes of a man at the bar. He nodded and tossed his whiskey down his throat. He tapped a cigarette against its case, tossed a twenty on the bar, and headed toward the door. He brushed against me, stopping to admire my breasts." Layla shivered and looked down at her lap, lowering her voice, "I could feel his hot breath against my skin. He grinned and then walked out of the bar."

Harrison growled, "A red-blooded male admired the package, and she labeled him a murderer. She killed a cop."

Garth's head snapped toward him. "This is the last time I ask you to be quiet." He smiled at Layla, "Please, go one."

Alice reached over and took Layla's hand. "Take your time, dear. Just tell us what you remember."

Layla hesitated and continued, "Although no one seemed suspicious, Jake had warned me to be wary of a man wearing a red baseball cap."

"Hmmph! A baseball cap. First, I heard of it."

Alice squeezed Layla's hand. "Try to ignore him."

Layla glanced across the table and then at Garth. "Except for the guy brushing against me, no one stood out. I wasn't sure who I was looking for; I guess I was hoping for him to find me. Since I didn't see anyone, I decided to check outside and walked further down the street, hoping he would come after me." Trembling, Layla closed her eyes, remembering. "I can't! Please, I don't want to remember it."

Once again, her lawyer tried to reassure her. "You can do this. You're safe with us. Take your time and tell Garth what happened."

Layla nodded. "I didn't hear him approaching. Then, suddenly, I sensed him before I felt his hand reach my throat. I didn't have time to think. I was terrified. I spun and jammed the knife into his gut. He stumbled and fell to the ground, bleeding." Layla sobbed and buried her face in her hands.

Garth leaned toward Layla, speaking in a low voice, "We're here to help you. Do you need a break, or can you finish your statement?"

Layla took a deep breath and released it. "No, I want to get this over." She smiled weakly and said, "I remember bending down and lifting his hand. I saw the tattoo and started screaming hysterically. I didn't want him to die. I needed to know what he did with my sister." Sobbing, she cried, "I didn't want him to die."

"We know." Garth recognized how difficult it was for Layla to relive those moments. He waited for her to continue.

"In minutes, the police rushed in and confiscated the knife. I was surprised Chief Harrison was there so fast. I remember him picking up the red baseball cap and putting it in his pocket." She stopped and stared at him. "You — you took the hat."

Harrison yelled, "She's a liar!"
 
Garth smiled, "You protest too much, Harrison. You might benefit from keeping your mouth shut."

Layla shook her head. "I'm not lying. You shoved the hat in your pocket and told an officer to put me in a police car. I felt numb. Everything seemed a blur after that."

"So, let me get this straight. A man approached you from behind and grabbed your throat. You screamed and fought for your survival. Facing your attacker, you shoved the knife into his gut. He fell backward to the ground, bleeding. And moments later, the Chief and his men arrived."

"Yes, that's how it happened."

"She's lying. She murdered my officer in revenge for her sister."

Garth ignored the outburst and directed his attention to Layla, "Thank you for sharing your story with me. If I may, please allow me to recap your statement. You confirmed that the events you narrated earlier are correct. You mentioned that the kidnapper who took your sister had a distinct tattoo, and this tattoo had a particular significance. Additionally, you believed that the same person who kidnapped your sister was also trying to harm you? Is that correct?"

"Yes." Layla shivered as a vision of that night flashed through her mind.

"Was Richard Harrison aware of what happened to your sister?"

"Yes, I flew from New York, and when I arrived in Rockford, I went directly to my sister's apartment. A few minutes later, Mr. Harrison arrived at her place. He said neighbors had complained of a burglary."
 
Garth interjected, "Convenient. He just happened to be in the neighborhood instead of sending a patrol officer." He smirked at Harrison and then turned back to Layla. "Sorry for my interruption, please continue."

"Later, Chief Harrison told me he believed my sister was a prostitute and that they had listed her as a missing person. He suggested she had taken a vacation. He refused to believe I'd seen her kidnapping on video chat."

"At a later date, did you learn that your sister, Alyssa Saladino, actually worked undercover for Mr. Harrison?"

"I did. Penny, the Chief's assistant, told me. She was surprised I wasn't aware of it."

"Did Mr. Harrison, at any other time, say he knew your sister?"

"Yes, when a body was discovered in the river wearing a bracelet with her name. He also told me that pieces of her clothing were found at the crime site."

"How did he know it was your sister's clothing?"

"I believe he said forensics found her DNA."

"Is there anything else you'd like to add to your statement now?" Layla shook her head. "I thank you for your patience and your time. These fine gentlemen and I apologize for Mr. Harrison's incompetence and abuse of power."

Harrison jumped out of his chair and snarled at Garth, "You no good, son-of-a-bitch!"

"I'm tired of playing nice with you." Garth nodded at Tango, adding, "Cuff him."

Harrison spun around, prepared to fight, but Tango's iron grip made it a useless attempt.

Ignoring Harrison, Garth returned to talking to Layla. "I believe we've taken up enough of your time. If it pleases you, Jake will take you to another room, where you can relax, and some refreshments will be served."

Garth winked at her and nodded toward Jake. Unable to contain her excitement, Layla beamed from ear to ear as Jake led her from the room.

*****

Jake couldn't control himself as he closed the interrogation room door behind them. His arms wrapped around Layla, and he pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," he said, burying his face in her hair. "I'll never forgive myself for letting you get involved."

Layla laughed and tilted her head to look directly into his eyes. "You couldn't have stopped me," she replied. She lowered her eyes as she continued, "I'm the one who is sorry. I killed the man who could tell us about my sister."

"Don't blame yourself," he said, gently kissing her lips. "We need to talk, but not in this hallway. Let's find those refreshments. Penny promised there would be chocolate chip cookies, my favorite."

Layla's eyes sparkled as she laughed. "Mine too!"

Jake led her to the assigned room, slipping her hand into his. It was less stark than the one she'd spent hours in and much happier.
 
Layla collapsed on one of the sofas and sighed, content to be done with the interrogation.
 
Jake stood in front of her, simultaneously looking at her with anticipation, happiness, and fear. "There's something I need to tell you, Layla." He paused and then said, "Alyssa is alive."

Layla's eyes widened, and she gasped. "Allie! Oh my God, that's amazing news! Where is she? Is she okay?" she asked, her voice trembling with excitement. "Take me to her."

Jake held up his hand, "I know you're excited, Layla, but there are some things you need to know before I take you to see her."

Layla nodded, eager to hear more. "Okay, what is it?" Then, changing her mind, she said, "No, it doesn't matter. I want to see her now." Tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to spill and run down her cheeks.

Jake looked at her with concern and sat beside her. "When you see Alyssa, she may not remember you."

Layla's heart sank at the thought. "What do you mean? How could she not remember me? I'm her sister," she said, her voice cracking.

"Alyssa sustained an injury, and she's still in the process of recovering. She has amnesia, so her memory is not fully intact. But the doctors are optimistic that she'll regain her memory soon."

"Amnesia! We're sisters. I know she'll remember. If not, she will eventually, right?"

Jake nodded. "Yes, she will, but there's something else you need to know. Alyssa has become very close to a friend of mine. They spent a lot of time in the hospital atrium together."

Layla looked at him curiously. "What kind of friend?"

Jake hesitated momentarily before answering, "Someone who has become very important to her."

Layla ran her hand up and down his arm and smiled. "It happens." She leaned close and kissed him, and he returned the kiss. "Now, as much as I would love to continue kissing you, please take me to Alyssa."

Jake sighed. "There's more. If Alyssa remembers you, all her memories might come flooding back at once."

"That'll be great, right?" Layla bubbled with excitement.

"Normally, yes. In this case, it could destroy my friend," he replied, his expression grave.

"Destroy him? Why?" Layla's heart raced, yet she was confused.

"Troy was framed for a murder and sent to prison. A few weeks ago, he was given an early release. Alyssa tried to prove him guilty because the victim was her close friend."

"If someone set him up, she'll understand."

"Most likely, but the real question is whether she will give him a chance to prove his innocence. From what I'm told, she hated him."

"But now, does she love him? If she is willing to give him her heart, she must know what kind of man he is."

"I sincerely hope you are right, for Troy's sake." As he spoke, his lips brushed gently across her cheek before moving to her mouth, where they lingered briefly. "But before we get too carried away, let's go see your sister and Troy.

*****

"We've been waiting a long time, Troy. What do you think is going on?"

"I'm not sure, but they'll tell us when they're ready. Cops are like that."

Alyssa laughed. "What would you know about what cops are like?"

Troy sat his coffee cup on the table and reached for Alyssa's hands. He looked deep into her eyes, knowing he had to tell her.

"Troy, you look so sad. What's wrong?" When he didn't answer, she said, "You're scaring me."

He cleared his throat and started to speak, "Alyssa, in this short time we've known each other, I've grown quite fond of you. You might say I'm falling —" He looked away, pressing his lips together.

"Troy, you can say it." Alyssa smiled, her eyes filled with joy. "I think I'm falling in love, too. So why the sad face?"

"Because I have to tell you something, which might make you change your mind."

"Silly! I can't think of anything that might change my feelings unless you want to run off and get married at this very minute. I might want to wait till you are out of that wheelchair." She laughed. "Come on. Just tell me. I promise not to be mad."

He swallowed hard before he spoke, "I am — no, I was a cop."

"Okay, so your chosen profession was law enforcement. No wonder we get along so well. I told you I thought I was something like that, too."

"I said I was because the police accused me of murdering someone." His eyes dropped, and he stared at his lap.

Alyssa gasped. "You? Murder? How could anyone think you would take someone's life unless it were in the line of duty, of course?"

Troy shook his head, feeling the tightness in his chest. "I was convicted and sent to prison. My brother framed me, I think. He's the Police Chief in this precinct."

Alyssa's eyes widened in shock as she turned to Troy. "Oh, Troy, is that the reason we're here?" Her gaze darted around the unfamiliar room, thinking about how to escape. "We need to get out of here. It's not safe for you. Will he send you back to jail?"

Troy shook his head. "I don't know why we're here, for sure. But we can't leave, Allie. I'm in a wheelchair."

Alyssa's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. "It's okay. I'll push you, and I can run fast if we need to."

As she swung open the door, she was suddenly face-to-face with Layla and Jake. The shock of seeing people outside the door left her speechless momentarily, but then she remembered and screamed, "Layla!" She rushed into her sister's open arms, and they both sobbed with relief and joy.

Troy buried his face in his hands, and Jake rushed to his side. "It's going to be okay, pal."

Troy lifted his head, staring at the two women hugging each other. "What if she hates me?"

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake Landingham - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminals' henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents
Hannah - the nurse


Chapter 21
Living On The Edge-Final Chapter

By Begin Again

END OF CHAPTER 20
"I said I was because the police accused me of murdering someone." His eyes dropped, and he stared at his lap.

Alyssa gasped. "You? Murder? How could anyone think you would take someone's life unless it were in the line of duty, of course?"

Troy shook his head, feeling the tightness in his chest. "I was convicted and sent to prison. My brother framed me, I think. He's the Police Chief in this precinct."

Alyssa's eyes widened in shock as she turned to Troy. "Oh, Troy, is that the reason we're here?" Her gaze darted around the unfamiliar room, thinking about how to escape. "We need to get out of here. It's not safe for you. Will he send you back to jail?"

Troy shook his head. "I don't know why we're here, for sure. But we can't leave, Allie. I'm in a wheelchair."

Alyssa's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. "It's okay. I'll push you, and I can run fast if we need to."

As she swung open the door, she was suddenly face-to-face with Layla and Jack. The shock of seeing people outside the door left her speechless momentarily, but then she remembered and screamed, "Layla!" She rushed into her sister's open arms, and they both sobbed with relief and joy.

Troy buried his face in his hands, and Jake rushed to his side. "It's going to be okay, pal."

Troy lifted his head, staring at the two women hugging each other. "What if she hates me?"

*****
 
CHAPTER 21


"You let her walk out of here just like that!" Richard Harrison bellowed as he angrily tugged on the handcuffs. "Get me out of these things!"

Garth placed his Stetson on his head and grinned. "I'm afraid this Cowboy can't do that, Richard. It's my rodeo this time, and I've lassoed the bull." He laughed and walked away, stopping to chat with his visitors.

A few minutes later, Garth chose the chair directly across from Harrison. He couldn't wait to drop the hammer on this arrogant man. "Tango, since you know Penny, would you please find her and see if she could order coffee and sweets from the cafe across the street? Enough for —" He looked around the room and then counted the guests who hadn't arrived yet. "Round it to fifty and put it on our card."

He stood and addressed the people in the back of the room. "Let's take a short break before we continue. I've ordered some coffee and sweets. We'll finish this as soon as they arrive, and you can enjoy the rest of your day. Oh, in case I forget, a very special thank you, Alice Cunningham, for stepping up to assist Ms. Saladino." He chuckled. "You can send your bill to Director Weldon."

A few snickers were heard amongst the crowd.

*****

Layla and Alyssa sat comfortably on the sofa, their arms wrapped around each other in a warm embrace. Each sister had a thousand questions to ask the other one.

"Allie, I was terrified when I saw that man grab you, and the video chat went blank. Do you remember what happened after that?" Layla's expression was still full of worry.

"I remember a struggle and then nothing until I woke up in the hospital."

"Hospital? When Tyler checked, he couldn't find anyone who matched your description being admitted," Layla said, looking surprised. 

"Tyler? How did a detective in New York get involved?" Alyssa shook her head in amazement.

"When it happened, I called him. I didn't know what else to do."

"Can I clarify a few things for the two of you?" Jake interjected, leaning forward in his chair to join the conversation. "Your guardian angel is Frank DiVito."

Layla squealed, "The crime boss." Jake's eyes widened in surprise, and Layla smiled. "What? I do read at times."

Jake laughed. "Frank, Troy, and I grew up together. Frankie walked on the dark side, and Troy and I were the good guys. But Frankie never hurt anyone unless they had it coming. The hospital was used for the poor and anyone who couldn't afford the care for years. Of course, Allie and Troy had a private wing. The atrium is only steps from the main house."

"So, how did a gangster save me?" Alyssa's curiosity was running rampant.

"Frankie has been silently trying to stop the corruption in this town. He's been working side by side — well, let's say close — to the FBI, including me. He's got feelers in every nook and cranny of this town. When one of his sources told him you might be in danger, he put a tail on some of the corrupt cops, and he caught Antonio in the act."

Allie's mouth dropped open. "Gangsters saved my life? Unbelievable!"

"Yours, Troy's, and mine, and who knows how many others."
 
Layla chimed in, "How did he save you?"

"He invited his friends to a party at the Lazy Saloon; that's why it was so crowded. Many of them are legitimate businesspeople, and they will be excellent witnesses. Frankie alerted us to the Chief arranging a hit with Marcos. We expected things wouldn't go down easy, so my fellow agents dressed in Western wear and kept close tabs on me. When I went down, they swooped in and had me out of there before anyone knew what was happening." Jake chuckled. "I wish I could have seen Harrison's face when no one could find my body."

"I still don't remember everything, but what about Sandra's murderer? I thought I remembered something about him being out of prison. How'd that happen?"

Troy had sat quietly, listening but not joining in the conversation, but when Allie asked, he couldn't stay quiet any longer. He rolled the wheelchair closer to the group. "Allie, the truth is I am that guy."

Allie's eyes widened, and her voice cracked, "You? You killed my friend." She jumped up, but Troy grabbed her arm. She shook him off. "It's all been a lie. You knew who I was, and you never told me. What did you hope to gain?"

"Alyssa, let me explain." Troy pleaded, but Alyssa wasn't listening.

Alyssa's anger flared. "No, stay away from me." She ran toward the door, but Jake blocked the exit. Irate, she screamed at him, "Move! I want to get as far away from him as I can."

"Give him a chance. He spent four years in prison for something he didn't commit," Jake pleaded, knowing how much she was hurting his friend.

Alyssa sneered, "Right! And his friends lie for him."

"No, it's the truth. He's innocent."

Alyssa snapped, "The courts found him guilty, didn't they?"

Layla joined Allie and Jake. She put her arm around her sister, hoping to calm her. "Allie, do you trust me?"

"Of course. You're my sister, but that has nothing to do with the man who was sent to prison because of my friend's death. You don't even know him."

"But I do know this man." Layla gazed at Jake. "He's not a liar. He told me there was proof that Troy's brother framed him — the same man who tried to frame me. Troy's innocent."

Alyssa looked at Jake and then let her eyes trail across the room, stopping at Troy. "Is it true? Are you innocent?"

"I tried to tell you at the atrium, then again, when we arrived at the station, I couldn't bear that you might hate me, but I couldn't let you go. I'm sorry."

Alyssa ran across the room and knelt beside Troy, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face against his chest. "Can you ever forgive me?"

He answered her with a kiss.

*****

Judgement Day had arrived for Richard Harrison. Handcuffed to the table, he stared at the floor as people filed into the room. This wasn't the typical way of arresting and charging a suspect, but Richard Harrison needed to be humbled. His days of brow-beating people and playing God were about to end.

Garth raised his hand, and the chatter in the room quieted. Richard Harrison glared at the FBI agent but remained silent.

Garth began, "Richard Harrison, I duly serve you with an arrest warrant authorized by Judge Peters in the Federal Court of Winnebago County. You will be transferred to federal court for all charges, which include Human Trafficking of women, four counts of soliciting murder for hire, embezzling public funds, theft of firearms, and similar charges to follow."

"Before we proceed further, Tango, please read Mr. Harrison his rights."

Richard Harrison fell silent, crushed by the Cowboy.

After Tango read Harrison the Miranda rights, Garth proceeded to offer Harrison insight into the mountain of evidence that had been gathered to this point. "FBI agents have been working undercover for the last four years as your neighbors, including your local pharmacist, mail carrier, hardware clerk, banker, and bartender. Several of your officers have taken a plea deal in return for supplying law enforcement evidence that you ordered them to remove firearms and drugs from the evidence room. The Forensic Scientist also will testify that he was coerced into producing false evidence about the death of Alyssa Saladino. Evidence you used to supply reporters with false information at an impromptu press conference. Your hitman, Marcus Williams, has accepted a plea deal and will testify you hired him, and Frank DiVito will supply photos of said meetings."

"In addition, Officers from DEA, U.S. Marshalls, and ATF will join in this investigation and your Human Trafficking business."

"That completes our discussion. Thank you, Richard Harrison, for staying silent during it. Have a great day."

The room was tense as two guards escorted Harrison, handcuffed, to his cell while Troy waited in the hallway. The two brothers exchanged piercing glares, each holding onto a grudge. As Harrison disappeared, Troy called out, "They've got a cell with your name on it, big brother."

After the room cleared, the two couples joined Garth in the interrogation room. He'd spread the pictures and newspaper clippings on the table.

Layla recognized the items. "Alyssa, do you remember these? I found them in your apartment behind a picture."

"I didn't get to study them, but I know they must be important; they were in Sandra's things."

Alyssa bent over the table, examining the pictures closer. "Oh, my God, that man in the red ballcap—I know him. That's Tommy—" she spun around and reached for Troy. "I'm a cop, and he was my partner."

Troy hugged Alyssa. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's him. We worked together at the bars, trying to save the women."

Layla frowned and shook her head. "Alyssa, he wasn't saving anyone. That's the man who tried to kill me. I — I stabbed him."

Tango tossed the red ballcap on the table. "And I found this in Harrison's office."

"I can't believe how much I missed. I'm glad that you're all right, Sis." She frowned, "My partner tried to kill you. What else did he do?"

Jake's voice was upbeat as he said, "It's going to take me days to tell you everything that happened. You won't believe the story about Layla working in the red-light district." He wrapped his arms around Layla, grinning.

Alyssa's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "Layla, you didn't do that, did you?"

Layla grinned and nodded. "Oh, I did. It was quite an experience."

They all laughed, grateful to be together.

Jake's phone beeped amid the laughter, and he quickly checked it. A wide smile spread across his face as he announced the news, "Guys, you won't believe it! Frankie is hosting a celebration party, and we're all invited. He says there will be free-flowing champagne, a sumptuous buffet filled with seafood, and lots of dancing!" His excitement was contagious; everyone felt thrilled to be alive and in love.

Alyssa knelt beside Troy, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Do you think we can sneak away to the atrium?"

Troy pulled her close and kissed her softly. "You can count on it!"

Author Notes Troy Sinclair - Ex-cop recently released from prison
Richard Harrison - Chief of Police and Troy's brother
Alyssa Saladino - Undercover cop
Tommy - Sandra's ex-partner and Alyssa's current one (a dirty cop)
Penny - Chief of Police's Assistant
Frank Divito - small-time mob boss
Sammy - Frankie's right-hand man
Jake Landingham - a friend of Troy and an undercover FBI Agent
Tyler Chadwick - NYC Detective
Antonio - a childhood friend - a hood
Layla Saladino - Alyssa's sister and fashion designer
Father Terry Williams - Priest and childhood friend
Marcos - a criminal's henchman
Garth Woodman - Senior Special FBI agent
Tango, Poppa, and Lance - FBI agents
Hannah - the nurse
Alice Cunningham - Lawyer

I want to thank everyone who has continued to follow my story and offered their support, encouragement, and thoughtful reviews. It's been a challenge at times, but I will never regret it. I hope everyone enjoyed the story as much as I did writing it. A special thanks to Karenina, Ric, Julie, Barbara, Karen, Sandra, Roy and Carol for cheering so loudly from the spectator stands. And thanks toTerry Broxson. He promised if I joined the contest to read every chapter. He kept his promise and always left wonderful reviews.
Smiles and hugs to all of you! Have a great day!
Always, Carol


One of thousands of stories, poems and books available online at FanStory.com

You've read it - now go back to FanStory.com to comment on each chapter and show your thanks to the author!



© Copyright 2015 Begin Again All rights reserved.
Begin Again has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

© 2015 FanStory.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement