Marta Perry - Twin Targets

“You knew she was involved with a guy who was Mob-connected?”

“No, no.” She pushed that away with both hands. “Is that what this is about? Did they kill her because she testified?”

“We don’t know that yet.”

“But that’s what you think. What you were trying to protect her from by moving her here.”

“That could be. So you’re telling me you were living in the same city with your sister but you didn’t know who she was seeing?”

“I wasn’t living in the same city, not for most of that time. I went to work for the Baltimore County Library System after I got my degree. I only came back to Pittsburgh when that whole business about the trial came up. I thought Ruby might need me.”

She was looking down at the shattered glass on the floor again, and her hands worked as if it caused her pain not to be able to clean it up.

Baltimore. That was something to look into, at least. If Jade had been that far away, it seemed unlikely that she could have been involved in anything having to do with the Mob in Pittsburgh.

They’d check on it. Just like they’d check on hundreds of other details. And in the meantime, the shooters were out there on the loose, maybe waiting for another crack at killing Jade.

“Is that all?” She glanced up at him, looking like a kid longing to hear that an ordeal was over.

Unfortunately he couldn’t believe that hers was. “Not entirely. We’d like to move you to a safer location for a time. If you’ll pack what you need—”

“No. I’m not going anywhere.” That soft jaw managed to look amazingly stubborn. “This is my home.”

“You’re not safe here. Let us take care of you.”

Anger flared in her eyes. “The way you took care of my sister?”

His fists clenched. “Those men could come back. Do you want to face them on your own?”

Her face whitened, but she didn’t drop her gaze. They stared at each other, wary as strange cats, and he felt the force of her determination pushing against him.

Footsteps thudded on the front porch, and the county sheriff came in, knocking snow off his boots.

“There you are, McGraw. We’ve got some good news for you. Looks like you’re not going to have to worry about those two gunmen anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

And why was he talking in front of a witness? Overweight, overage and out of shape, the man was obviously too full of his news to be discreet.

“I don’t know where they were for the past couple hours, but a few minutes ago they tried to run a roadblock we’d set up out on the highway.”

“You’ve got them?” Maybe now they’d get some answers.

“Well, not exactly.” The man’s pudgy face expressed disappointment. “Thing is, they tried to bust their way through the barrier, lost control of the vehicle, ended up wrapped around a utility pole. One’s dead, the other’s on his way to the hospital in critical condition.”

And probably not able to talk, the way their luck was running. “You’ve got a guard on him?”

“Of course.” The sheriff looked offended.

“That means I’m safe,” Jade said, drawing his attention back to her. “There’s no reason why I have to go.”

All his instincts screamed at the thought of leaving her here alone, no matter what had happened to the shooters. “You’d still be safer in a hotel in Billings.”

Her jaw set. “I’m staying here.”

“Well, shoot, we’ll look after Ms. Summers, Marshal. We think highly of her around here.” The sheriff beamed. “You federal boys don’t need to think we can’t take care of our own.”

He’d argue, but he was on shaky ground. Jade could be right, and the threat to her could be over. The sheriff could be right, and he was capable of looking after her.

Could be. But he doubted it.

He looked at Jade and imagined her lying on a cold concrete floor with two bullet holes in her. His gut twisted.

He nodded. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. It was all he could do.

The briefing seemed to be stagnating, and Micah shifted restlessly in his chair. They’d gone over and over the little they knew about Ruby’s murder, and it seemed to him they were no further.

Phillips tapped a pen on the tabletop, the only sign of frustration he allowed himself. “Mac, what’s the scuttlebutt from Pittsburgh? Does the organized crime team there have anything?”

Mac Sellers straightened at being appealed to. Years behind a desk had softened his belly and soured his disposition, but he’d learned how to work the complicated threads that bound law enforcement agencies together, and that could be invaluable.

“Nothing that moves us forward. No indication that the Pittsburgh Mob was interested in sending any messages by tracking her down. Why would they? The guy she put away was a low-level soldier, easily replaced.”

“What about him?” Phillips snapped. “He might be carrying a grudge.”

“That’s more promising.” Mac seemed to like drawing out his moment of attention. “Joey Buffano, his name was. Seems Joey got himself a fancy lawyer, got his sentence reduced on some technicality or other.”

A low murmur went around the table. Nobody liked the idea of a perp getting out early because somebody had slipped up.

“Anyway, they’re looking into Joey for us, but the immediate word was that he’s been doing an impression of a model citizen, working at his parents’ meat market and reporting to his parole officer on schedule.”

Phillips made a complicated sound that expressed doubt at Joey’s turnaround and skepticism at his apparent alibi.

“Keep after them. The two we’ve got on ice were low-level muscle. Maybe they were doing Joey a favor.” He looked around the table. “Anything else need following up on?”

Micah didn’t particularly want to bring up this subject, but better it come from him than from someone else. “Yes. How did the shooters locate Jade Summers? And why did they bother coming after her?”

“I don’t know why, but I can guess how.” Mac sounded pleased that he had something to contribute. “I was going over the report from Ruby Maxwell’s apartment. Inside her Bible they found a newspaper photo and article, announcing the appointment of Jade Summers as head of the White Rock Library.”

“So they saw that when they tossed the apartment,” Phillips said. “Maybe weren’t sure they had the right twin, and went after the other one.”

That meant he hadn’t led them to her door, at least. “That must be it,” he said. “There’s still the matter of how they found Ruby.”

Mac shook his head. “We could look ’til we’re old and gray and never know that for sure, but I’m betting she was in touch with one of her old friends. We all know that’s usually what happens.”

“We’ll keep following up on it, in any event.” Phillips sounded ready to be finished. “What are you working on right now, McGraw?”

“I’m still checking out Jade Summers’s background.”

Phillips closed the folder in front of him. “Have Mac help you with that. I want you to call your brother.”

That jolted him to attention. “Why my brother?”

“He’s the big expert on organized crime, isn’t he? That memo he sent about the Martino family—well, on the surface it seems unlikely there’s any connection, but he should be consulted. You call him.” Phillips smiled thinly. “Do you good to stay in touch with your kin. All right, people, let’s get moving on this.”

Chairs scraped, fragments of conversation floated past his attention. He didn’t heed them. Call your brother.

Okay, no reason not to give Jackson a call. It had been a while. Usually his information about his half brother was funneled through his mother. Jackson always maintained a good relationship with his stepmother.