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Chapter 34: Blood Ties
Angel rubbed at his eyes. He'd been staring at Johnny's laptop far too long, or he was too tired; probably both. He'd been searching addresses from the piles of papers stacked up on the bar. Johnny was on the phone, digging further into some of the names they'd managed to get from Angel's searches. They were having luck, a lot of it, but piecing together exactly what they needed took up most of their mental energy. Jessup Winston had been living a double life for years. As Jessup Winston he had many connections on the shady side of business. As Jesse Nicholas, his life was straight, not a black mark anywhere, not so much as a parking ticket. He'd spent a lot of years building up an identity that could never be traced back to him. If Angel didn't know about Jesse Nicholas, he never would have been able to connect the two. Since he had that connection, everything seemed to fall into place pretty quick.
Johnny made calls to some of his contacts, no one that he would name, but people he swore could help them out with information. Once he mentioned Jessup Winston and their least favorite FBI agent Harris, facts started falling into place. Harris had been connected with the gangster activities for quite a while, with ties not only to Winston, but to Sweet, and Winston's old man. He had been dirty for years, and he had obviously gotten comfortable, thinking he was beyond being busted for his illegal activity. Johnny was able to get information linking Harris to numerous unsolved robberies.
Angle had called Green several times, passing onto him the names and dates that Johnny was digging up, and Green in turn was able to get more information from police files. He couldn't share much of the information he dug up, but what little he was able to report back to Angel was giving them plenty of information that they could use.
If they could derail Harris and ruin his credibility it would be all they needed to get Jack out of the shit he was in at the moment. He'd tried to call Bobby a few times and share this news with him, but either Jack's phone wasn't receiving, or he wasn't answering. He tried not to let his imagination run wild on him though. He had to believe Jack's phone was in a dead zone and wasn't receiving any calls. One of his brothers would have found a way to call if they needed help.
Johnny finished with his phone call. "Damn, I can't believe the luck we're having." He spoke quietly while staring at his phone. "A friend of a friend remembers some big diamond heist from years back; the dates match up to some of the papers you have here. Didn't Green say something about diamonds earlier?"
Angle shifted his eyes from the computer for a second. "Yeah, he did. I've been researching it, checking out old news stories."
"Yeah, guess who was in the middle of all that shit?" Johnny's grim expression slowly changed as a smile spread across his face, "Winston's old man, and Victor Sweet. You'll never guess who the lead investigator on that case was either."
Angel stared at Johnny for a few seconds before his brain put it together. He was too tired for his thought processes to move very quickly. "FBI, it had to be Harris."
"That's right." Johnny reached out and gave Angel a pat on the shoulder. "You get to move to the head of the class."
"Then Harris was in on this shit from the start. But he's not working with Winston, nothing he's done matches Winston's style, and Winston seemed pretty fucking surprised by all the shit that had gone down. It's almost as if Harris is trying to get us pissed at Jessup Winston. He knows what we do when we get pissed." Angel nodded his head thoughtfully. "You think he's trying to set Winston up right along with us, so he can claim the diamonds for himself?"
"That would be my guess. He needs to get Winston out of the way, but he needs him long enough to get to the diamonds, where ever they're hidden." Johnny pulled a stool up next to Angel at the bar. "So, what if he uses you boys to get rid of Winston, or actually, Nicholas? That gets him the diamonds, and gets rid of everyone in his way, right?" Johnny wasn't actually asking, he was making his point.
"Winston says he had nothing to do with any of the bullshit that went down with Jack and Craig. He's telling the truth. It was Harris, setting up Winston so we would take him out." Angel felt his face starting to burn hot.
"Right," Johnny nodded his head. "Once you boys take out Winston, who is actually Nicholas, then you have stepped right into a boat load of trouble. He links it to you all, you end up taking the heat for it, and he walks away with the fucking diamonds, free and clear, because no one knows about them. Those diamonds have been cleaned up, they had to be. That's what all this shit is. Winston wasn't laundering money with this shit, he was cleaning up the fucking diamonds." Johnny pointed to the piles of papers scattered across his bar.
"Shit, we need to get a hold of Bobby, now." Angel pulled his phone out and tried Jack's number, again.
"You ain't gonna get a hold of him. The cell ain't getting a signal, or they would have answered one of the dozen calls you've already tried. Call Green again, tell him what we've figured out. He should be able to back it up with information in the police files. I got more names I can give him." Johnny spoke quickly. "And then you need to call Jerry, we need to get to Bobby before he does something, you know 'Bobby like'."
Angel quickly dialed Green while he started backing out of the web pages on the computer. This night was about to get a hell of a lot longer.
Green sounded like shit when he answered the phone. The man should have been home, in bed. He shouldn't have been out the hospital to tell the truth. That was a debt that the Mercers would owe him for a long time. Angel quickly relayed the news to the detective and then listened while Green shared the worst news he'd heard all night. Harris had to be cut loose, he was out, and probably looking for the Mercers at that very moment.
"Shit, why the hell didn't you call me?" Angel cried out, forgetting the computer, standing quickly from the bar stool.
"I tried to call you. Have you bothered to check your messages? Damn, you Mercers all have one thing in common; you don't check your voicemail. I've been leaving messages with you and Jeremiah." Green spoke quickly. "He's been out of here for almost an hour. The other two guys are still at the hospital, I was hoping he'd go there and snag them, but he hasn't."
"Okay, we need to get to Bobby, before he fucks us all up. If he finds those diamonds he's gonna lead Harris right to them and then Harris will make his move." Angel continued to talk to Green while he and Johnny pulled on their coats and headed out of the bar. He gave Johnny the phone and let him give Green some names that could be tied into their theory, while he took Johnny's keys and led him to his car. Their plan hadn't really been discussed, but Angel and Johnny both knew the basics, they needed to get Jeremiah, and then head out to the farm where Jack and Bobby had headed for their search. Angel had known it would be better for them all to stick together at Johnny's and figure all of this shit out, but in desperation he'd allowed Bobby to run off, searching for whatever evidence he could find. At the time, they hadn't realized exactly what they were looking for. Now they did, now they had something to hold over Winston's head, and Harris. They had exactly what they needed to clear Jack, and ensure that no one would fuck with them again. Unless Bobby managed to figure all this out and found the diamonds already.
Harris parked his car in front of Nicholas Peters' house. His mouth was still throbbing, despite the fact that he'd swallowed some pain pills just an hour before. He wasn't in a good mood, and a lot of it had to do with the fact that Bobby Mercer had knocked out his teeth. He could get them fixed, eventually, but it wasn't like he had the pull that Winston had. He wasn't going to have two new teeth in a few days. He would have to wait until he had the payout for this job. The lights were on, but the place still looked quiet. He patted his coat to be sure he could feel his side arm there, in the holster, a habit he'd developed over the years. He got out of the car and walked across the drive, towards the front door. He hadn't quite made it to the porch when the garage door opened up. He back-stepped once to peer inside at Peters, who was hurriedly stuffing a suit case into the back seat of his car. Irritating, that's what it was. This man was trying to take off. Where the hell did he think he could go that a government agent couldn't find him? Harris felt a cynical laugh work its way through his chest.
The sound drew Peters' attention to him. The man was scared shitless, that was obvious by the way rushed to close the car door and move to the driver's door. "Harris, what are you doing here?"
"I came to pick up my package." Harris did his best to sound casual. "What about you? What the hell are you doing? Are you going somewhere?"
Peters pulled the driver's door of his car open and nodded his head. "Yeah, um, my wife called me. There's an emergency, I have to go."
Harris nodded his head slowly. It was a lie, he knew that. Why the hell would this fool be trying to take off? The only answer that came to mind was that he hadn't been able to get his hands on the toy, "What about my package Peters?"
"I don't have it." Peters shook his head.
"You were too scared to do it, weren't you?" Harris forced a hoarse sound that was supposed to be a laugh. "You are nothing but a coward, aren't you?"
"No, actually, I had it. I planted the papers, just like you to told me to. I did everything you told me." Peters spoke quickly, running his words into each other in a confused jumble.
"Where is the package?" Harris took a step towards the man.
"I don't have it now." Peters barely got the words out.
"What was that?" Harris took another step towards the garage door.
"I know about Jessup Winston, I have talked to him." Peters looked as if he were about to shit himself, and Harris found that amusing.
"What do you mean you've talked to him?" Harris felt a fire building deep in his chest. "Where the fuck is my package?" His voice rose steadily as he spoke. He quickly closed the space between him and Peters.
"I don't have it, he took it..." Peters stepped backwards, obviously trying to keep space between his self and the threat that loomed in front of him.
Harris allowed him to get just so far before he quickened his step, grabbed hold of the front of his coat and spun him around, slamming his back down to the hood of the car. "What do you mean you don't have it?" His voice burned deep from the back of his throat. His brain started putting pieces together, and though it nothing more than an educated guess, there was only one answer that he could think of to his question. "You gave it to Winston, didn't you?"
"No," Peters shook his head quickly, the fear showed in his eyes. "I was just trying to find you, I went to your hotel and…"
"Shut the fuck up you damn fool!" Harris wanted to hit the man. He wanted to land blows to his mouth and relieve the pressure building up in his chest. "You talked to him. You gave him my package." He knew what Peters had been about to say, he could sense it. He had good instincts; that was what made him good at his job. "You fucking gave Winston the package." His hand reached under his coat, feeling for the piece he'd checked for before he got out of his car.
"You didn't tell me he wanted it, that I was doing this for him, you lied to me." Peters' voice trembled as he spoke. "You said Winston was dead."
"I told you to get that fucking toy for me, you idiot. Winston wants results, he doesn't need to know how I get them." Harris pulled his gun out and stepped back from Peters, who didn't move to rise from his place on the car hood. "You just fucked me over." He took aim and fired.
Peters' hands came up as if to shield himself from the shot. Instincts; self-preservation ingrained in the human brain. Although it was useless, a man seemed to think blocking his view with his hands could stop bullets. Harris waited while the echo of the shot rang in his ears, his eyes focused on the weed eater hanging on the wall just on the other side of the car. Peters was not going to fuck this up for him any more than he already had.
Harris stared at the weed eater for a long time, while his mind worked out what he needed to do next. He needed to get a hold of Winston and clean up Peters' mess. He turned and calmly walked out of the garage as he holstered his gun. He was half way to his car when he pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and dialed Winston's cell number. No answer, he got voice mail. Next he tried the front desk of the hotel and asked to be put through to Mr. Nicholas' room. That's when he was informed that 'Mr. Nicholas' had left, apparently on some urgent business. He left, no wonder he wasn't answering his calls. He had the key, and the idiot would take the key and go to the orchard. The ground was frozen solid, but he'd still go to make sure the area hadn't been disturbed over the years. It's what Harris would have done if he had the key.
How much did Bobby Mercer know? Where the hell were the Mercers now? He needed to know so he knew his next move. He knew they had found Winston, could they be working together now? Had Winston teamed up with the Mercers against him? If they had, then they all could be out at the farm, tracking through the snow to pinpoint the spot where Winston had buried the important shit. His tongue ran across his teeth, finding the gap Bobby Mercer had inflicted on him just a few hours earlier. He was too close to let them screw him over now. He needed to find them. The orchard was the logical place for him to start. If they weren't there, he could at least tell if they had been there recently.
He had made it to his car by the time his thought process had finished. He didn't turn back to look at the open garage door of Peters' house. He didn't give a fuck about that man, and he wasn't worried, it would never be traced back to his gun, he would make sure of that. He had friends; he had a way of covering his trail, he always had managed to cover up anything he needed to.
He'd spent years playing it straight and doing the right thing, all that got him was a divorce and no real home to go to at night. After just so long the temptations got the better of him and he let his hands get dirty. He wasn't ashamed of it; he had no guilt over any of the extra money he'd made over the years because he had earned it. Just like the money he was expecting from the payout he'd receive from the diamonds, he had more than earned that. He had spent too many years planning this, he'd invested too much of his time and skills to lose it all to the fucking Mercers. He didn't care what the hell Jessup Winston thought he was worth, he wasn't going to be taking a paycheck for a fraction of the wealth; he was taking the whole damn haul on this one. Winston was getting weak, or he'd been weak the whole time and hid it well, he wasn't sure which. Either way, the man wasn't going to be worth more to him alive, so he might as well make sure he was dead. It was time to move on. He would be able to retire and make a new life for himself, he had it all worked out. He just had to find the dumb fuck and make sure things went according to his plans and not Winston's.
He pulled his car out onto the street and headed for the freeway. He didn't pay any mind to the posted speed limit, he was in a hurry. He needed to get to Winston before the asshole ruined his plans.
Jeremiah stood at the front door of his house, looking out the window. Angel had said he'd be there in five minutes, but there was no sign of him yet. Movement behind him told him that his wife was there, watching him while he watched for his brother. "Are you still not talking to me?" He spoke the words quietly.
"Jeremiah, I love you." Camille's voice was barely a whisper.
He turned to look at her, "But?" He knew something more was coming.
"No but. I love you." Camille looked as if she'd just lost her best friend. They were both stressed, and he knew they couldn't go on like this, not much longer.
"I really thought I'd be home for the rest of the night, I didn't think I'd have to go back out." Jeremiah shook his head. "You understand this though, right?"
"I know how you feel about your brothers. I understand why you feel obligated to be with them for all of this, but I don't understand how it can be more important than your own family, your daughters most of all." Camille glanced up at the stair case.
"Baby, can we not fight about this? Not now, not tonight." Jeremiah stepped over to her and put his arms around her. "This isn't about whose more important. This is for the girls and you just as much as my brothers. If I don't do this our whole future is gone."
"I don't want to argue with you, not now." Camille pulled her robe tight around her. "But I don't see what difference it makes if we have to change our plans Jeremiah. There has to be a reason why your plans keep getting shot down, or blown up. What happens if the girls are in the middle of it the next time?"
"There won't be a next time Camille. I swear, this is it, after we get Jack cleared I'm backing away, I won't have anything to do with Bobby's plans, I'll focus on my own, on my family here." Jeremiah's voice was still quiet. "I love you and my babies more than anything else, you come first."
"I've heard that before. I believed it, and I have believed you every single time you swore it was over. It's never over." Camille looked up at him through tears. "I can't keep doing this."
Jeremiah felt his heart catch and stop for a moment while her words sank in. "Don't do this Camille, please, don't make me choose, not tonight."
Camille drew in a shaky breath. "If you walk out that door, I won't be here when you come home." She shook her head slowly. "I can't sit here and wonder if you are going out to die. I can't live with that kind of fear. That part of your life is supposed to be over, I didn't fall in love with the hoodlum, I fell in love with the man who valued his family. What about your daughters? They are your blood Jeremiah."
"Please, Camille, don't make me choose. I can't choose. I do value my family, all of my family. My brothers were all I had growing up. They might not be blood, but what binds us goes deeper than that. You can't expect me to back away and leave them. Jack's the only one with an ounce of common sense, and he won't use it when he's around Bobby. If I'm not with them they'll end up dead."
"And what do I tell the girls when we get that phone call that it's you in a body bag?" Camille's voice rose slightly. "I can't do that, I don't have it in me to tell my babies their Daddy is dead." Tears slipped from her eyes. "I don't have it in me to hear that news period. It would kill me."
"My Mamma didn't raise me to run Camille. She believed in fighting for what's right." Jeremiah reached up and brushed the tears from his wife's cheeks with his thumbs. "You believe in that too, or you never would have been with me in the first place."
"I believe there's a time to fight your own battles, and there's a time to let the law have justice. You can give Green everything he needs to know to take care of this, you don't have to go." Camille's voice pitched slightly, the tears in her eyes were pooling and it was obvious there was going to be more tears.
"We have been giving Green everything. He's with us on this baby. Just a few more hours, and this will be over. I know it's hard, I don't want to go, but I have to." Jeremiah turned to look out the front window, still no sight of Angel. "You know, we've had to fight tooth and nail for everything we have. This ain't no different. But once it's over…"
"It will never be over. That's the problem. Every day I find myself looking out that window every time I hear a car door, wondering if someone is coming up my front walk with a gun. I check on the girls all night long, I don't sleep, I can't eat, and I'm worried about you and them and us." Camille drew in a deep breath. "You were supposed to be home for the night Jeremiah, and now you're ready to walk out that door again. What about us? Don't we mean as much to you as your brothers?"
Jeremiah felt a pounding starting in his head. It had been like this for a while now. They talked in circles and never seemed to get anywhere. "Of course you do. If I thought there was the smallest chance that you and the girls were in danger, I would never leave, but this has nothing to do with my three special ladies." He tried to force a smile. "My brothers would be here too if there was the slightest chance that you or the girls were in danger. You're not." He shook his head.
"You don't know that. The last time…." Camille started.
"The last time was different Camille." Jerry tried to keep his frustration out of his voice but failed miserably. Car lights bounced from the windows to the walls as a car pulled into the drive out front. He turned and looked out to confirm it was Johnny and Angel. He turned back to Camille. "Please, just trust me this one last time?"
Camille folded her arms across her chest and shook her head slowly, but didn't say anything.
"Will you be home when I get back?" Jeremiah reached for the door knob.
Still Camille didn't speak.
"I love you Baby." He felt his heart breaking, sure that her silence was confirmation that she would in fact not be there when he got home. As he pulled the door open he hesitated, about to turn towards his wife to try once more to talk to her. The car horn in their drive sounded and Angel yelled something.
Jeremiah took one step, ready to walk away from his wife, praying she would say something to him.
"I love you too Jeremiah." Camille's quiet voice drifted across the air, pulling him back. He turned and before he could say anything Camille was in his arms, placing her hands on each side of his face and kissing him hard. "You'd better come home. You've got this family here waiting for you."
His heart beat hard in his chest, but some of his worries faded, slightly. "I'll make it right, I promise." He whispered to her before he pulled away and walked out the door.
Bobby Mercer shook his head in a slow, steady motion. "You think I'm gonna trust you again Winston? Hell, you're like all the rest of them. You say one thing but you turn around and do another. I got my family to protect; we keep getting fucked over by scum like you. I trusted you once, I let you live once, and look what the hell it got me." He kept his gun aimed straight ahead. He couldn't really make out much of Winston in the shadows, but he could make a pretty good guess where the man's head was. He wasn't about to risk either of his brothers getting hurt.
"All I want is to get out, don't you see that?" Winston took a step closer, the gun in his hand catching a little bit of the light starting to seep in through the windows.
"That's why you got a gun." Bobby waved his own piece a bit, wiggling the barrel towards Winston's weapon, "'Cause you want to end this all peaceful like." He held back the urge to squeeze the trigger and put an end to Jessup Winston right then and there. He damn sure couldn't shoot the man with Craig standing right there. The kid had seen enough blood in the past few weeks, he didn't need to see more.
"I only have this as protection." Winston took another step closer, his own gun pointed in Bobby's direction. "Will you hear me out? Please?"
"Jesse." Craig muttered from beside Bobby.
The man felt bile build in the back of his throat. Craig knew Winston, or Nicholas. How the hell often had Jessup Winston changed names? There weren't many reasons for a man to change identities and disconnect from his past, and the few that Bobby Mercer could think of weren't very comforting. He reached out with his free hand and pushed Craig further behind him. "Jack, take Craig out of here." He spoke quickly. He could see Jack taking hold of Craig's arm, but Winston spoke before anyone could take a step.
"He has a right to hear this, doesn't he?" Winston's words were quiet and calm. "It's his life I was trying to protect."
Anger boiled at Bobby's blood the instant the words hit the air. "Protect him?" He cried out. "He ain't yours to protect! He ain't shit to you, you got that? He's our brother, and you ain't got no ties to him."
"I'm his Uncle." Enough light was filtering in that Winston's face could be seen with more detail. He turned towards Craig, and a smile creased his lips. "I didn't know where you were for a long time. I didn't look for you because I figured you would be better off, away from Adam, and the old man. Your mother and I had a plan to break free, but we didn't have enough time to make it work. I am so sorry for that. I'm sorry for what you went through. I didn't find out about it in time to do anything."
Bobby couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wanted to punch this man, knock out the two new teeth that replaced the previous two he'd removed from Winston's face. He glanced down at Craig and could see confusion on his face. "Jack, get him the hell out of here."
Jack started to pull Craig away again.
"No!" Craig pulled away from Jack and tried to move past Bobby, towards Winston. "He's telling the truth, I know him."
Bobby's hand snapped forward, clutching the boy's shoulder and jerking him back, probably a little too hard. "You do what I say Craig, I ain't got time for this shit."
Winston reached out towards Craig in the same moment, as if he were about to pull him free from Bobby's grasp. Bobby's gun found its way to the center of Winston's forehead so fast he didn't realize he'd moved until after he felt the pressure of the man's head at the end of his gun. "You do not touch him." He growled.
Winston held both hands up, his gun pointing to the ceiling. "He is my sister's son. He's my blood." He huffed out the words breathlessly, obviously feeling a need to explain. "I'm his real family."
"I don't give a fuck what he used to be, he ain't nothin' to you now. You got that?" Bobby pressed the gun a little harder into Winston's forehead. "He's our brother, he's a Mercer. We are his family, and you wouldn't have turned Harris lose on the only family he's got if you gave a shit about him at all."
"I didn't turn Harris lose on you." Winston slowly let his hands lower.
Bobby kept one eye on the gun. "If you didn't want trouble, why the hell did you come with a gun?"
Winston's eyes crossed as he focused on the gun pressed into his own forehead. "Because I knew you would have one." His voice was stronger this time. He shifted his gaze back towards Bobby. "I need to defend myself."
Bobby almost pulled the gun back, almost gave into the urge to trust this man, but at the same time his finger ached to squeeze on the trigger. Nothing that had come out of Winston's mouth was good, he didn't know how much of it to believe. He knew Craig trusted that this man standing in front of him, he could see it on the kid's face. That put him into a very touchy, fucked up mess at the moment. If he shot Jessup Winston, Craig would only see it as him shooting a long lost uncle, fucking family. If he didn't shoot the son of a bitch, he could end up turning on them and hurting Craig in ways that Bobby couldn't stand to dwell on. He had to get his brain back on track, try to get separate Jessup Winston's surprise revelation from the mess they were trying to get out of. "What the fuck are we looking for Winston?" He asked the question slowly, with as much calm as he could manage in an attempt to anchor himself and Winston back to their present situation.
"Move the gun, and we can talk Bobby." Winston sounded just as calm as Bobby.
"I ain't moving this gun, you talk, now." Bobby heard the growl that followed his words; he wasn't able to hold it in.
"Bobby," Craig spoke quickly, "Stop!" His hand grabbed a hold of Bobby's arm, taking him by surprise. He looked down at Craig, who had moved back up within reach of Winston. His instincts were to grab the kid and jerk him back, out of the way. This wasn't going to end well, the man already knew that, but apparently the kid didn't get it.
"Jack, take your brother out of here." Bobby stole a quick glance at Jack, hoping his other brother would have enough sense to listen to him.
Jack gave him a nod and reached for the kid, but Craig moved a little quicker, closer to Winston, giving Bobby a push back as he did. It took the elder Mercer off guard, threw him off balance, mentally, and pissed him off. The whole action forced his arm down."What the fuck are you doing?" Bobby yelled as he realized the whole motion freed Winston up for whatever the hell he wanted to do. He didn't have time to react before Winston grabbed Craig's arm, pulled him closer and stuck his own gun into the boy's side.
"Now, we talk." Winston suddenly didn't sound so friendly.