Джеймс Паттерсон - Ambush

“No one will know we ever spoke to you.”

He waited a bit longer, then finally said, “The mama of that kid you shot in the library. Diego something. She’s the one who pressured the cartel. I heard they even hired some hotshot killer from Bogotá. The killer is supposed to take care of some Canadians and I guess you, too. From what I hear, the killer is really good. You might not live long enough to talk about our conversation.” That made him grin, revealing yellowed, uneven teeth.

I had a few more questions, but he didn’t know anything that could help me. At least I felt a level of satisfaction for having tied a lot of this case together. Now we had to figure a way to find the woman from Colombia who was committing these murders.

That was always the toughest job: stopping the killer.

The visit with Albert Stass had shaken me. Over the previous months, I had experienced a number of revenge fantasies about him. That was not the way I was raised or what my upbringing in the Catholic Church had taught me. It wasn’t how I operated as a police officer. But I still fantasized about killing the creep, and that scared me.

I had to clear my head. Some people might call it centering myself. That meant I needed contact with my family. Some men rushed to alcohol, some men to drugs, but in times of trouble, I needed my family.

I didn’t hesitate to head south toward Brooklyn. I hadn’t been to the set where Juliana was filming her TV show in several days. Just seeing her would make me feel better.

As I parked near the nondescript warehouse in Brooklyn Heights, near the East River, the first person I saw was Juliana. She was standing outside the main door using her phone.

As I walked up, she covered the mouthpiece of the phone and said, “I get lousy service inside. And by coming out here I get a little air and a few minutes away from Carter.”

I waited a few seconds while she finished her call. She was trying to register for some acting class in Greenwich Village. Then Juliana slipped her phone into her purse and gave me a hug.

She said, “What brings you down here?”

I shrugged. “I just needed to see one of my kids. And I was curious about what was going on here on the set.”

“You were curious how I was handling Carter since he dumped me.”

“I’m more curious to know if you want me to do something to him.” I gave her a smile to let her know I was kidding.

Juliana said, “Ugh, Carter. I don’t even want to think about that jerk.”

I was glad to see that anger had replaced sadness — the natural progression in breakups.

Just then, the front door opened and Carter popped his head out. He said, “C’mon, Jules, don’t be like that—” Then he saw me and went silent.

I looked at him and said, “Like what?”

He didn’t say a word as he slipped back inside.

Juliana laughed, and it lifted my whole world.

I turned to her and said, “What are you filming today?”

“Just some scenes with the star of the show.”

I liked the way she put air quotes around star . The woman was an older actress whose name I didn’t know.

Juliana said, “Sometime this week I’m supposed to do three different interviews.”

“That’s exciting. Maybe I can come and distract you during one of them. It will make you tougher.”

She laughed and said, “Dad, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I do. You seem to have everything under control.”

She hugged me.

I said to her, “I came here for me, not so much for you. You don’t have to thank me.”

Juliana said, “Then I’ll just tell you that I think you’re a great dad.”

Alex Martinez had a difficult time keeping up with Bennett’s car after he left Rikers Island. Surveillance was difficult, especially with only one person working it. But this was a part of the job she really enjoyed.

Now she was definitely on her own. She didn’t want to involve anyone else or use any other accomplices. The Dominican gang had illustrated the problems of using local help. She had done it a few times over the years, but never again.

Alex considered a simple drive-by shooting while conducting the surveillance. Everything would have to fall in place just right, and she’d have to worry about witnesses and security video if she did it that way. It was better to work out a plan and stick to it. That’s what she was good at.

Her research on the Internet had told her a few things about Bennett the man, including his adoption of ten children. She still didn’t have a photo of any of them.

She stayed back about six cars as Bennett crossed over the East River by way of the Brooklyn Bridge. A few blocks later, in Brooklyn Heights, she saw the Impala pull into a lot across from a warehouse.

For a moment, she wondered if everything had lined up just right. When he came through the parking lot she could work it out so her car would not be far from him. But she remembered how quickly he reacted with the Dominican gunmen. They’d tried basically the same thing, and it didn’t work out for them.

Still, just in case, Alex drew her semiautomatic pistol from her purse and slid it into its normal spot next to the driver’s seat. She kept her right hand wrapped around the grip.

She rolled down her window so she’d be ready if she got the chance.

Bennett walked across the street in front of her quickly and was greeted by someone at the front of the building.

As she drove down the street slowly, Alex saw Bennett speaking with a young woman standing outside the front door. She was tall and pretty with long, dark hair. She gave him a quick hug as soon as she was done on her phone.

Alex recalled that one of Bennett’s adopted children was named Juliana and was about eighteen years old. It was a pretty good bet that this young woman was Juliana. It looked like the oldest Bennett child had found a job on some kind of TV show.

Now that Alex had a lead on one of the kids, she could explore it.

It was sweet to see the father and daughter interact. Bennett was basically a good guy. But her profession didn’t give her the option to ignore contracts just because the targets seemed like good people. Sometimes she had to just do her job.

Alex found a fancy coffee shop with Wi-Fi near Columbus Circle. She could’ve spent more time following Bennett around, but now she knew exactly what she was looking for.

She had to discourage the young man working the counter, who wandered over to her in an effort to flirt. As soon as he said, “So where are you from?” Alex scared him off with a perfect Colombian glare.

Alex had walked around to check out the warehouse where she had seen Bennett greet the young woman. A card on one of the doors said that it was a set for a TV show called Century’s End. A quick search on the IMDB database told her that the show was in production and scheduled to be released next year.

The description said: “A drama set in the late 1990s, revolving around young people making life decisions as a new millennium approaches.”

Didn’t sound promising from the description, but it might work if the writing and acting were good.

It listed the director and a producer and six of the series stars. One of the photographs was the girl she had seen — listed as Jules Baez playing the role of Noreen Harwood. She looked up information for Jules Baez on several databases and found very little. It was interesting to note that she had received her Screen Actors Guild card very recently.

Then she found an early description of Century’s End on a different website, a gossipy industry-insider newsletter. Alex pulled up the newsletter and found a short blurb about the TV show listing the actress hired to play Noreen Harwood as Juliana Bennett.