The Fall of East Page 20

  "You would just love it, to have my job, wouldn't you?"

  Amelia crossed her arms. "Can the two of you stop please? What are the other structures on the property?"

  I’d memorized the map, so as Denning pulled it up on his tablet, I rattled off, "The servants' quarters, the main house obviously, two guest houses over on the western side, the family crypt which has sort of a mini lodge house on top of it, and then over on the far eastern side of the estate are all the maintenance sheds and a small house where the managing caretaker lives. Underneath though, there are tunnels leading every which way on this property, so we have to be careful.”

  Denning stared at me. "Why do you know this place so well?"

  "Well this isn't my first time at this rodeo. We've been spending a lot of time paying attention to Lord Jameson. I studied the schematics the last time we were here."

  He watched me warily. "If you say so."

  He frowned down at the table, and I said, "Sir, give me something to do."

  He ignored me and gave Amelia her marching orders, telling her to coordinate the searches of the small buildings.

  "Okay, I'll help her," I said.

  He shook his head at me. "No, you're going to be stuck with me. I'm going to watch you like a hawk so I can see where you're going and what you're doing. Because I don't believe you're this good. Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure you are terrible at this job. I see you with your eyes on my job now that your father is gone and I'm acting section chief. It won't be you they pick though, you know that, right?"

  "And considering your personal history with a criminal, I wouldn't hold my breath if I was you, either. Denning, just let me do my job. I'm not coming for yours. I have no interest in that. All I want to do is bring in the bad guys. That's it. How hard is that to understand?"

  Over the wire, two agents reported they had cleared the crypt.

  Denning smiled at me, maliciously. "Okay then, why don't you go help them? Let them show you how they cleared they crypt, do another sweep of it, and when you're tired and bored, do another one."

  "Denning, surely you can see how this is unhelpful and a waste of resources."

  "I don't give a damn if it's unhelpful."

  "Fine. I'll go." Anything to get away from you, I thought to myself.

  I followed the path around the hedges until I found the crypt. It was constructed of the same pewter stone used for all the buildings on the property. Instead inside though, it was all marble, floor to ceiling. Jameson, or rather Henry Warlow, had clearly spent a lot of money on this for a family that wasn't his. I would never understand it. His first wife was buried there alongside an infant she’d miscarried once.

  I found myself trying to do the mental gymnastics of wondering if his first wife had known, if his current wife had a clue, and if anyone else in the family ever figured it out. Were there unexplained deaths in his family? Was he capable of such a thing if it was necessary to protect his real identity?

  But Lord Jameson/Henry Warlow was not who I was after. Tonight, I was after his son. I already knew he was dangerous based on everything East had told me, so I needed to keep my wits about me.

  I called out for the two uniformed officers that were supposed to be on watch, but neither of them responded.

  Where the hell were they? They shouldn’t have left their post until a senior officer had cleared them.

  I followed the smooth marble around the corner and then discovered that one of the marble walls wasn't quite level. There was a slight bump in the seam in the wall. Using my phone for a flashlight, I looked around and saw a small button on the floor near the wall. When I pressed on it, a hidden door started to shift and move, exposing a stairwell going down.

  Had the officers also come down here? I called out for them again, but they still didn’t answer.

  I texted Amelia to let her know where I was, because if I’d learned anything in the last year, it was to be prepared and always have backup.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I glanced around. There were rows and rows of plaques listing former Jamesons going back generations.

  I remembered that East had said that sometimes these large estates also buried long-term caretakers on the premises, but I could hardly imagine they'd be kept in the family crypt. Maybe there was a secondary crypt?

  An echo some twenty feet away tripped my senses. I glanced around with my gun at the ready. I knew down here I'd barely have any cell service, so I hoped my earlier message to Amelia had gotten through.

  I heard the sound again, and this time it was accompanied by running footsteps.

  Gingerly, I stepped toward where I'd heard the sound, aware that my light was giving away my position. But no way was I going to attempt to traverse these tunnels and halls in the dark.

  I heard the skitter of footsteps up ahead, and I picked up my pace. It wasn't until I'd reached the main center meeting point of tunnels that I saw the shadow I was chasing. "Freeze, Jameson."

  Garreth Jameson grinned at me. "Of course it would be you."

  "I don't know what that means but yes, it is me. You're under arrest. There's nowhere to go."

  "You forget, my father has been training me to hide nearly my entire life. So if I don't want you to, you're not going to find me. This is my house."

  I laughed. "You recognize that I found you right now, right. Oh, the irony."

  He scowled at me. "You think you're so clever. You thought you were too good for me."

  "Yes, yes, bad guy speech. Honestly, can we skip this part? Because I just want to get to the arresting."

  "Catch me if you can." He turned and ran.

  I knew that there was no way in hell I should do this without backup, but there was no way to communicate with them without going back upstairs where I could get a signal, and by then he'd be long gone.

  So I followed his footsteps down the dank tunnels, never giving up, keeping him in my sights, all the while checking my phone for fucking service.

  I felt a whoosh of air toward my face before I registered movement, and instinctively, I ducked.

  The shovel that he’d aimed for my head missed. I lunged for him, and he managed to tackle me and slam me up against one of the walls. Pain went shooting through my body and I slid down to my knees as he turned and ran, but I wasn't giving up. Instead, I climbed back to my feet and followed him.

  As I staggered from the tunnel and into a larger crypt room, a shot rang out, and I flipped over a stone bench and dove for what little cover it provided. In the stillness that followed the gunshot, I could hear his footsteps retreating once again. I glanced around the room and noticed two doorways he could have possibly exited through and whispered, "Oh God where does each one lead?"

  The schematics hadn’t shown much detail of the tunnels, so I had no idea. All I could do was guess. With an internal eeny, meeny, miny, moe, I pick the door on the left, taking the stairs two at a time, and I was rewarded by the sound of echoing footsteps.

  "Got you asshole."

  Then I heard creaking, muffled curses, and thudding on the stairs again before I finally reached him.

  I aimed my gun and said, “Give it up, Jameson. You’re not escaping today.” Then the door at the top of the stairs opened, and beyond it I could see white marble countertops and Shaker-style cabinets. I knew this room. It was the kitchen of the lodge above the crypts.

  Garreth Jameson glared at me. "Why won't you just quit?"

  "God that would be such a pain in the ass. Lead me this far then expect me to quit? You know it's never going to happen."

  There were voices approaching above us, and he whirled on me, saying, "Let me go, I will give you anything you want. Money, jewelry, whatever."

  "I think you underestimate me. Which is disconcerting at best." With my gun leveled at him, I smiled sweetly. "On your knees. Hands behind your head."

  And that was how Denning and Amelia found us; me with a gun on the suspect, and him complying.

  Amelia stared at me. "What
the hell?"

  Denning's face went ashen when I said, "Sir, handcuffs please?"

  He tossed them as he stared at me and asked, “Where did you find him? I assigned you to the crypt after the other agents said it had already been cleared.”

  "Yeah, funny that. The officers on duty weren't in the crypt."

  He glanced around. "So, where were you? Where did you come from?"

  "Well, if you were willing to listen you would know." With Garreth Jameson in cuffs, I could finally breathe.

  Suddenly all the lights went out. The darkness below ground was already disorienting, but to lose the lights above ground too, I knew something was wrong.

  Denning stared outside. "Amelia, take the suspect back to the car will you?"

  Amelia’s voice pitched low. "Something's up. This feels a little too…"

  Neat and tidy? Something had caught my eye downstairs, but in my haste to pursue Jameson, I’d dismissed it at the time. But now I knew someone else had been in that crypt, and I had a good idea of exactly who it was. I handed Jameson off to Amelia and said, "I need to go back in."

  While I was making the transfer, Amelia slipped me a com unit, winked, and whispered, “This might come in handy.”

  Off course, Denning tried to stop me. "You will do no such thing. You will—"

  I turned to him. "Sorry sir, but with all due respect, since I'm the one actually catching criminals at the moment, please let me do my fucking job."

  Nyla

  Jesus Christ, the old man was faster than I thought.

  I sprinted through the tunnels, making a sharp left. I knew I didn't need a gun with Theroux, so I holstered it and used my free hand to guide me so I wouldn’t fall and hurt myself.

  And Denning could kiss my ass. Theroux was mine. Granted, he hadn’t killed anyone, but still… He had to go down. That was the deal.

  In the com I’d just shoved in my ear, East was shouting, "Ny, where are you?"

  "I'm going after Theroux."

  "Motherfucker. Where is Jameson?"

  "Arrested. Amelia and Denning have him."

  "Nyla, be careful."

  "Yeah. Always am."

  There was a chuckle. It was low, but I was pretty sure that was Bridge.

  East's voice was firm. "Where are you?"

  "I have it handled." And then I saw him up ahead, trying to find his way, making a sharp left into the crypt.

  I booked after him. "Theroux, stop."

  He slid into the crypt with barely a glance back toward me. When I entered the crypt behind him, I found the light switch and turned it on. It lit the whole room up. Bright as sunshine.

  "Theroux."

  In the burial chambers, he was running to some kind of grate in the back wall, and I pulled my gun and said, "Freeze."

  He stopped and turned. He had his own gun drawn.

  "You're coming with me, Theroux. You and I, we had a deal."

  He turned. "God, you are persistent."

  "That's my job. Now, put the gun down."

  "Oh, come on, this is only for show. We both know that. You know full well I'm not going to use this. I never use guns. I hate them."

  "I don't believe you. Put the gun down. We had a deal."

  He chuckled then. "My God, you look so much like your mother right now, a complete warrior."

  I blinked rapidly. "What the fuck do you mean? You don’t know my mother."

  "Uh, Nyla, my love, I gave you everything you needed to find out the truth."

  "You told me to investigate my father. All I know is that my mother was one of his informants and she was giving him intel on—" My stomach cramped as it knotted itself into the tightest of all knots. "Oh God. Oh my God."

  He smiled slowly.

  "You… You're my father."

  He nodded. "Yes, I am your father. And your mother left me because she wanted something more. The Wilson Collins painting. That painting you so admired in Warlow's office."

  My brow furrowed. "How did you know about that?"

  "I found a way to have you bugged. And once you started concentrating on him, I knew what I had to do."

  “So you used me?"

  "No, I didn't use you, Nyla. We had an arrangement. Your mother was obsessed with the Collins painting. Leah researched it endlessly after discovering that it once belonged in her family, back when they had their wealth."

  "Please stop. Stop talking about her."

  "I can't. You have to know this so you will understand. I can’t stop talking about her, Nyla. I loved her."

  "If you loved her so much, why did she betray you?"

  "It wasn't so much me she betrayed. Warlow claimed to love her too, but he loved the painting more. When we stole it, he took it from us, and he made her think that I had betrayed her, that I was the one who had taken it."

  I shook my head. "I don't want to hear this."

  "She believed that I would hurt her. I didn't. I fought to get it back for her, and she loved me, but by then your father had his hooks in her. I saw her only one more time after they got together. He almost caught me, but she saved me, gave me a way out."

  I drew in a sharp breath. "She was the reason he missed you that time?"

  He nodded. "Yes. She loved me. But at that point, she thought it was better for you to grow up in a stable home. I didn't even know she was pregnant until you were about four or five when I went looking for her. Just looking at you, I knew you were mine."

  I swallowed hard. "You can't know that."

  "I knew. I confronted her, and she told me the truth. That was the last time I saw her. Your father got close to me that time too, but this time, I didn't need her help to escape. I'd gotten better. I blended in. Hiding in the shadows."

  "I don't— I don't believe you."

  "You don't have to believe me. Go back. Take another look at the documents I pointed you too. Look at them with new eyes knowing what I have said. You'll see it."

  The problem was I didn't need to go back. I knew he was telling me the truth. I just... I didn't want to believe it. "All this time I've been looking, and you..."

  "I'm probably not your ideal father figure, but I'm not so bad."

  "Not so bad? You're an international thief."

  "That I am. And I'm very, very good at my job. This is my last one, though.” He turned and uncovered the painting propped against the back wall of the crypt. “I wanted to get this painting for her. I know she's not here, but I want to at least return this to a place I know she loved, a place I know she would have been happy."

  "You really loved her?"

  "She was everything to me, and it broke my heart to lose her. So all of this, Warlow, me, your father... It's because of love. Three men loved her. Two of them continued breaking her heart."

  "All this time you knew, and you could have come for me. You could have come to get me."

  "You think I didn't want to come for you?"

  "What am I supposed to do with this?"

  "What you're supposed to do is know that I love you. Know that your mother loved you, which is probably the most important. You should know if your father was still alive, I fully intended to let you bring me in because I know how much it meant to you to show him you could capture me when he couldn’t. But now I don't want you to see me in jail. I want you to know how much I love you. That's how I want you to remember me."

  I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. "But this is... this is impossible. You're making this impossible."

  "I know. And I’ll do whatever you want, Nyla. All you have to do is ask, but you need to decide now. I hear your people coming.”

  “You gave me your word,” I said, my voice wavering.

  “If you want me to go with you, I will let you arrest me because you're my daughter. Tell me what you want, Nyla."

  "I can't. This isn’t fair."

  "My darling girl, nothing is fair. Not in this world we're living in."

  "And partnering me with East? What the hell was that about?"
/>   "I knew he would keep you safe. I knew that he would risk everything. I'd already seen him do it for a friend. At first, I thought maybe Ben Covington seemed like a good match, but he was already smitten. Bridge, he's too closed off. You didn’t need that. You need fewer secrets in your life, not more. You need someone who's going to encourage you and be happy for you. You need someone capable of happiness."

  I shook my head, hearing my colleagues upstairs and knowing I had a choice to make. My whole career, I’d watched my father chase one man. Then I had chased him. Now was the moment of truth, and I surprised the both of us.

  "You have to go." The words tumbled from my mouth, and I couldn't even believe I'd said them.

  His eyes went wide. "What?"

  "You need to go."

  "Nyla, be sure. Because once I'm in the wind, I'll be gone. Be sure."

  "You sound like East. I know what I want. Go." My hands were shaking, and I couldn't breathe. "Just go."

  "Nyla."

  "If you're going to go, then do it, old man. I can't do this knowing that I could lose you. You're the only one I have left."

  "That’s not true, Nyla. You have a lot more than you think."

  "Well, we'll see about that. Now go."

  There was rattling at the door, and my eyes went wide.

  "It might be too late for that. If I go, they'll know you helped me."

  God, I couldn't breathe. "Oh shit, you're going to have to shoot me."

  His eyes went wide. "I told you, the gun is just for show."

  "Yeah, well, not today. You will have to shoot me, because if you don't, I will get a bunch of questions I cannot answer."

  "Nyla. Let's not do this."

  "You have left me no choice, old man."

  His lips twitched into a smirk then. "Who are you calling old?"

  "You, you old geezer. Now move it. Lift the gun. If you could just shoot where East already shot me, that would be excellent."

  His brow furrowed. "He really did shoot you?"

  "Yes.” I waved him off. “He apologized."

  My father, Francois Theroux, laughed. "My, you do remind me of me and your mother."