Chapter 37

Friday, 9:17 a.m.

Thursday had been a long day and an even longer night. Now Laurel and Aaron were on the way back to New York, driving slowly to avoid the debris left by the storm.

Laurel hadn’t had any idea how bad the raging weather was or the devastation it caused while she was safe in Aaron’s arms at the inn. This morning, looking through the car’s windshield, she saw the downed trees, marred houses whose windows were blown out and whose doors tilted crazily off their hinges and utility poles precariously balanced over the roadway. The inn was far enough from the center of the storm to have only experienced the power outage. Cast in the sunlight of a truly beautiful day, it was a horrible, horrible mess. Just like what we’re going back to in the city.

She stole a glance at Aaron, whose attention was focused on navigating the car through the intermittent piles of garbage still cluttering the roadway. Laurel let her mind slip back to the early morning hours while they drove.

She had roused Aaron from a deep slumber. He awoke instantly, his sleepiness seeming to desert him and alertness quickly taking its place. Laurel needed to make him understand that what she wanted to discuss was important. She moved from the bed they shared to a comfortable side chair, putting enough distance between them to resist any temptation being close to him might bring.

Then Laurel recounted everything that happened since Monday, starting with Anne Ellsworth’s email asking for help and ending with last night’s call to Jenna and Jenna’s confrontation with Matt.

Aaron listened calmly, not interrupting or questioning as Laurel told him about her phone call from Jenna. “I promise you, it will be all right.” He rose from the bed to stroke her hair and take her in his arms. “No one else will get hurt.”

The chemistry between them was too strong. Laurel turned her head slightly and began to kiss him again and again, feathering his face with soft, inviting touches. She slid her hands over his rock hard stomach and down toward his manhood. He groaned with pleasure and, gathering her in his arms, rose and placed her gently on the bed. Their lovemaking was as satisfying as before, and Laurel slept peacefully for the first time in days.

* * *

Aaron rose quietly while Laurel was still asleep and slipped into the bathroom to phone his squad in New York.

“So, Larry, where are we at with Kuhn?” he asked.

“I got on it right after you called. Man, the guy’s twitchy, boss,” declared Detective Waxman. “Kept looking over his shoulder, like he was expecting someone to jump him.”

“Did he make you?” Aaron asked sharply.

“No way. I paired off with Judy and we decided to do the ‘gawking tourists from the Midwest who’d never been to the city before’ routine. I called his office before we headed over to see if he planned to go in. I said I was with the phone company, that we received a call about a problem on his line. His assistant told me he was out at a meeting and would probably be back by about 3:00 p.m. She said she’d discuss it with him then, that we should call back later.

“Judy and I went over to the ZurichBank building and were doing our tourist act, taking photos of each other and looking up at the sky. We picked him up outside at about three thirty. Must have been a long meeting.”

“An intense one, anyway.” Aaron filled in the detective on Matt Kuhn’s meeting with Jenna Jones in Washington Square Park.

“She sounds like my kind of woman. She must have some balls to confront this guy on her own.”

Aaron laughed. “Actually, she’s more of a ball breaker from what I’ve seen.”

“Well, I was right, the guy was definitely twitchy. Wait, it gets better.” Larry sounded like he could barely contain his excitement.

“How so?” Aaron asked.

Aaron heard him turning the pages in his notebook. “He left the office again at three forty-five and headed uptown to the Tally Ho club.”

“And?”

“I think we hit the jackpot, boss.”

Aaron swore softly. Was it too much to hope for that they could put him together with Sal Santucci?

“Judy took my tourist gear back to the squad, and I followed Kuhn into the club like I was some poor schnook in search of a little action to brighten up my day. He sat at the bar knocking back shots, looking kind of nervous and glaring at his watch every few minutes. After half an hour or so, one of those big boy bouncer types tapped him on the shoulder and showed him to a door set in the wall, back behind the bar. They kind of just ambled back there. It was very smooth, low key. Kuhn was back there about twenty, twenty-five minutes. When he came out, he wasn’t looking too good.” The detective snickered.

“Yeah, well, Sal Santucci has that effect on most people.”

“I was sure it was a meet with Suave Sal,” said Detective Waxman. “Everyone knows he’s got part of that club and has those two Lehman brothers fronting it for him. You think Kuhn and Santucci are connected?”

“I’m almost sure of it.” Aaron thought of Matt Kuhn’s signature on the bottom of that letter and the fact that if Jenna’s information was correct, this was his second meeting with Santucci in as many days “Who did you get to take over the tail outside the club?” The detective would have someone ready to switch off with him.

“I phoned the precinct when he entered that hidden room. I didn’t want to use Judy again so soon and Santo was on something else. I called in a favor from one of the guys I trust in Homicide, Bobby Nardo. When I left the club, Bobby was ready to pick up the tail from me. Kuhn went straight home and stayed there until seven p.m. Then he headed out to a local bar on Prince Street, Farina’s, for a drink and dinner. He walked around the neighborhood for a while afterward, then went back to his apartment. Bobby stayed on him till about two a.m. Santo took over then. He just called in and Kuhn is still in his crib.”

“Good work. Here’s what I want you to do,” Aaron said. He relayed his instructions then hung up. Back in the bedroom, he sat on the bed next to Laurel, who was now awake. Aaron was surprised to find how quickly they moved back into their easy way with each other. Making love felt like they had never been apart.

“What was that all about?” Laurel had apparently overheard some of Aaron’s side of the conversation.

“I think we may have a break in the case. I’ll know more when we get back to the city.”

“Tell me what’s going on. Please. I have a right to know.”

“Later. I promise.” He turned away, avoiding her resentful stare. “We’d better get going. I need to see Norm Schnall before we head back.”

They stopped at the Doylestown Police Station on their way out of town to say their farewells to Detective Schnall. The burly detective had made Aaron a copy of the murder book—a compilation of every shred of evidence, every statement and report relating to Anne Ellsworth’s death. Aaron would use this to work the case from New York and add any information his squad discovered.


While Aaron and Detective Schnall discussed the details of the case, Laurel took the opportunity to call her father and John. Both Mike and her boss sounded anxious to hear from her. Each one was aware of the vicious storm that had ripped through Pennsylvania and was worried about her safety. Her father sounded relieved when she called and asked her to check in again as soon as she arrived home. John showed his concern with his usual tinge of sarcasm, assuring her he’d be waiting with bated breath to hear the whole story. She assured each of them she was fine and put them off with promises of full disclosure as soon as she reached New York.

Laurel brought her attention back to Aaron, who guided the car safely onto the Interstate. “So, is it time yet?” she placed her hand on the murder book that sat on the center console between them like a dark, silent third passenger.

“Time for what?” Aaron had a puzzled look on his face.

“To tell me about the phone call you made just before we left the inn,” Laurel said.

Aaron took his time answering, and Laurel sensed he was holding back again in some valiant effort to protect her. “It was about Matt Kuhn.”

Laurel looked at the ground. “I knew it.”

Aaron picked his words carefully. “One of my detectives discovered another connection to the Santucci family. We’re looking into it. As soon as we have enough evidence, we’ll move on it.” He paused and began again. “Look …”

She held up her hand to silence him. “Don’t. It’s okay. Really. I’m fine with this.” She laughed derisively. “The man I’ve been seeing has been living a secret life. He’s a thief and maybe a mobster and I never suspected a thing. Hmm. Some investigative reporter I am.” She turned in her seat to face him. “I’m going to confront him about this tonight at my dad’s dinner.” She crossed her arms in front of her body. “I’m going to ask him if he knew about Anne and … and what happened to her.” Her voice grew more determined with the last few words.

“Are you out of your mind?” Aaron said. “You’re still planning to have dinner and ask the guy if he knows about a murder, if he’s part of the Santucci crime family?” Aaron’s voice rose and Laurel felt him struggle not to lose his temper. “What do you think he’s going to say? ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t make a difference in our relationship.’ ” He shook his head at her. “I can’t believe you’d do something so stupid. Forget it. No way. You’re canceling dinner.”

“I’ll do what I have to do. It’s my decision, not yours,” Laurel said.

Aaron rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Suppose you confront him and he admits he knows David Adams and was just helping a client work out a financial deal. Then what? He’ll never cop to knowing about a murder.” Aaron lifted his hands from the wheel for emphasis. “You can’t arrest him, or bring him in for questioning. He’ll go on his merry way and, the minute he gets a chance, he’ll run to Santucci or get in touch with Adams. Don’t you get it? You’ll actually be helping him, rather than Anne.”

Laurel looked over at him and a glimmer of doubt registered. Maybe Aaron was right and she should listen.

“Where does that leave our chances of capturing her murderer? Don’t do it. It won’t help and you could get hurt. This time, let me do my job and take care of this.”

The last time she did things her way had turned out horribly. The realization didn’t escape her. But, this time was different. This was something she believed she had to process and work out on her own. It was too important. Would it be stupid to confront Matt? Would it really hurt their case or help capture Anne’s murderer? Wouldn’t it be more of a tipoff if she told him the dinner was canceled?

Silence filled the car as they drove back to New York. Laurel stared off into space for the longest time, twisting her hands in an unconscious gesture of frustration. As the miles sped by, the fidgeting slowed and her hands became still.

They neared the George Washington Bridge, and Laurel took in the fabulous view of the city she loved. She put her emotions aside.

“Okay, you win,” she said. “I’ll cancel dinner and leave the bad guys to you.”

Aaron smiled over at her. “It’s the right decision.”

She concentrated on the skyline and placed her palm on the murder book as though taking an oath on a Bible. Laurel viewed the facts in a hard, cold light and knew what she had to do. A shudder of apprehension washed over her. She was deceiving Aaron again. Sleeping with him … being together again … She didn’t know where it was all heading.

She realized she might be sacrificing their rekindled relationship in her quest to avenge Anne’s death, but there was no way around it. Her conscience wouldn’t let her have it any other way.

I’m sorry, Aaron. She thought long and hard about what she was going to say to Matt.