Chapter Twenty-One

"How's work?"

Work was work, filled with twists and turns, suspects and long hours. But she was also working with some people she mostly didn't hate, so she supposed it was alright. "Crazy, as usual," she ended up telling Dr. Murad with a shrug. There really wasn't anything else to it.

"Any shootouts?"

Leah shook her head. "Haven't had one in ages, actually. Trying not to jinx it."

Murad nodded with understanding. Despite never being in law enforcement, she knew the feeling. Murad had admitted, during her rare moments of mentioning her private life, that she had served a brief stint in the military many years ago. It wasn't for her, she had told Leah with a bitter laugh. "It's not fun," she remarked.

"No, it's not," Leah said. "It's fucking stressful. As if we don't have anything else to deal with, we now have to make sure the perps don't escape and kill anyone. I mean, I guess it's nothing like being a war—"

"Close enough," Murad quickly interjected, "How many shootouts have you been involved in?"

"Several," Leah said, then, "Nothing like I had to deal with last year."

"Why have things calmed down since then?"

"I wouldn't say they've calmed down," Leah said. "We've had witnessed threatened or killed or put in protection. Every single time I turn around, there's another twist. I can't even keep count on how many suspects we have now. And that's only the ones still alive—"

"Thank goodness you took a vacation."

Leah's smile was small but sincere. "I'm already looking into flights for LA."

"When do you plan on going?"

"I was thinking in the Fall, but..." Leah shrugged. "I don't know."

"Solo trip?"

"No, I'm dragging Jacob along with me," Leah said, then, "Dragging is a strong word. He did agree to it."

"How is he?"

"Fine," Leah said. Her answer was purposely short and sweet. She didn't want to talk about him. "He's just him."

Murad, thank goodness, caught on Leah's aversion and gave her some reprieve. "Hm," she said, nodding, then, "And your family?"

"Good. Things have finally calmed down." Leah said, relaxing her shoulders. Ironically, talking about her family drama was less stressful, risky than talking about the man she practically saw every day. She had to work on that. "Haven't heard a peep from a certain cousin and her baby daddy in a while. Well, that's not true. I've heard from Sam but for work-related matters... He's surprisingly been helpful lately. Gave me some great leads. People at work think it's his way of apologizing to me."

"What do you think?"

"Is it bad to say that I don't really care?" Leah wondered. She hadn't worried about Sam and his feelings in a very long time. Sure, she didn't want the man to die or anything, but she was far too busy, far too... she didn't know... to worry about a man who had lied to her for all those years. It was less stressful. Liberating— She thought she had sounded too callous and decided to add, "Though, I guess all of his efforts are making me hate him less."

"That's progress."

Leah grinned. "Yes, it is."

Leah finished the last of her coffee and placed the empty cup in the car's coffee holder before adjusting herself in the passenger seat. She pressed her head into the headrest, occasionally shutting her eyes with hopes of getting some, any kind of energy back. She had a long night- another night, another run at Sag Valley Forest. The first time she had phased without the full moon, not that she could remember much. As usual.

She glanced at Jacob, who was humming to a classic rock tune as he navigated down the busy street. "You think this is going to work?"

"Are you serious?" Jacob scoffed as he made a right turned and scoffed. He was surprised at Leah's doubt. In a turn of events, he had more confidence in this Novak-plan succeeding than Leah. "He's gonna crawl up into a ball when he sees this. Don't worry, Leah, he's gonna talk."

"Because we're sort of extorting him?"

"Because if he doesn't, he's gonna end up like Gianna," Jacob said as drove the car into the parking lot of the Law Office of the Public Defender. They were meeting the only defense lawyer pertinent to their case, and the visit wasn't scheduled. The detectives didn't want to allow the opportunity for Novak to prepare for the bombshell that was about to drop on him.

"What are you talking about?" Leah asked, slightly lifted her head. "Wilson says he doesn't want him dead."

"It's not him, I'm worried about," Jacob said. "Novak worked on behalf Sorio, right? Who worked on behalf of the Olympic coven, the Velasquez cartel—what do you think will happen when they find out about this? When he gets arrested?"

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, "This shit's crazy."

"Esme wants the business to be as legitimate as possible," Jacob explained. He briefly smiled at his luck of finding a suitable parking spot at 10 am. He quickly pulled into it. "If I were her, I wouldn't want this looming around. Especially since Novak named dropped her favorite adoptive son."

"Killing Novak would bring unwanted attention," Leah said, then let out a snort as she unbuckled her seat belt. "The amount of people who want the man dead, and he's still walking around like he's the shit."

"That's hubris, for you."

Apparently, as Leah observed ten minutes into the impromptu visit, Vincent Novak did possess the ability to be humbled and reserved, to speak without all the pomp and loosely-veiled threats. To look small in his expensive, well-tailored suit. To be reduced to shock and horror.

The letter might work after all. After skimming the piece of paper in his hand for the umpteenth time, Novak cleared his throat, cursed, and then tossed the page aside.

Leah hid her satisfied grin. Jacob didn't bother trying.

There was no need for a retort, for a defensive word-vomit, a tantrum—Novak had his hands tied. He knew it; he knew the detectives knew it, and despite the numerous glances at his office door, Novak knew attempting an escape wouldn't help his cause.

He was trapped.

Letting out a defeated sigh, he sat up straight in his chair, hands folded, eyes aimed forward, but without much focus. "What the hell do you want to know?"

Leah picked up the letter from the edge of Novak's desk and returned it to the folder. Jacob relaxed in his seat, already believing that he and Leah had everything in the bag already. They did, to an extent. They fully had Novak's attention, but now, they needed to hear the truth from the public defender. They needed Novak to fear the repercussions of uncooperating.

"How do you know Munson?" Jacob asked after a moment of silence. His body was relaxed in his seat, but with arms crossed, and sharp eyes on the lawyer, he was just waiting for Novak to put up a fight. "And for your sake," he added. "Don't tell us you've never heard of the guy."

"We have proof you do know him," Leah reminded the lawyer, just in case.

Novak huffed, flopped against the back of his chair and dropped his arms. "He's a client."

"For what?" Jacob asked. "He's been sentenced to life without parole. All of his appeals dried up. He ain't getting out of Cook County unless in a body bag."

Frustration crossed Novak's face, not that the detectives cared. His gaze dropped to his desk as he remained quiet, most likely trying to come up with an answer, but not really. He ended up with, "I don't have to answer this—"

Leah cut him off. "Unless you want to share the same fate as your friend, Calvin Sorio, then we suggest you do."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Novak deeply exhaled, mumbled a curse under his breath, and said, "It was for his own sake. What he had endured..." He shook his head. "Would've paled in comparison to what would happen when they get their hands on him. Quick deaths aren't their forte."

"Whose forte?" Leah asked.

Probably the Volturi's, Leah hypothesized. Them, and the Velasquez Cartel. And she couldn't forget the Cullens— they probably had the strongest motive. They all had strong motives tied to Mike running off with a human who, in turn, ratted to the police.

But if Leah had to make a bet, she would choose the Cullens.

Novak lifted his gaze, eyes widening with alarm. He most likely regretted making his last comment. It had said too much. He gulped a couple of times, tried to regain his usual confidence, but it ended up collapsing, just like his luck. He was fucked; the question was by how much.

"Shit," he said under his breath.

Leah decided to switch gears. "What happened to Mike Newton?" she asked.

"I don't know."

Leah narrowed her eyes.

"Novak," Jacob threatened.

With his gaze strictly on his desk, Novak remained tight-lipped. Weighing his options, Leah figured. Which would be fine and all if they had time, which they didn't.

Exchanging a quick glance with Leah, Jacob asked again, more stern, "Vincent Novak, who ordered the hit?"

Novak swallowed. "I can't."

Jacob frowned.

Leah drew in a breath. Someone was holding a proverbial gun to his head, Leah realized. Shit. Of course. He walked, and it could be all over. Maybe they could work with him, offer him some protection. Some reprieve. But looking at the man, he honestly looked scared. But—they couldn't leave the office empty-handed. She and Jacob had promised Paul an answer. Just a name, that was all they needed.

Jacob leaned forward, relaxing his features. He had to play the empathetic cop. "Listen, Novak, all you gotta do is talk to us. That's it," he stressed. "We're not even going to arrest you."

He was right, Leah thought. Once the higher powers found out about Novak's liaisons, they might push the case to the feds. As much as they didn't want to admit it, persecuting Novak in Cook County would've been too much of a headache. Would be considered non-partisan.

Jacob's words didn't work on the public defender who, slumped in his chair, was shaking his head feverishly, looking less like a hotshot lawyer and more of a dejected soul.

"I can't—They'll kill all of them," Novak cried, clenching the edge of his desk. "My wife, my kids, my parents... I can't. I simply can't help you."

"What if we can give you and your family protection?" Leah offered. "Your words can help us put away those same people who are threatening your family."

"You can't do anything," Novak choked out. "Nothing."

Maybe this was what Rosalie was talking about, seeing a man with much pride just break down. If the fixer were here, she would be smirking in triumph, perhaps even letting out a laugh, taunting the man all while reminding him of his debt to her.

Leah didn't like Novak, but even she had some pity for the man. Jacob, who seemed to have even more disdain for the public defender, had some, too. While Novak pressed his face against his palms, moaning, and from the faint whiff of salt, silently crying, Jacob exchanged a look with Leah, dropping his shoulders and sighed.

"What if we can?" Jacob offered carefully. "Make sure you're protected... you all gonna need it. Even if we've never talked. one of these days, they would've found out about the money. And the investigation... it's slow-moving, but we're catching people."

Novak slowly rose his head. He looked at the detective, tear-brimmed eyes widen with some hope. A sliver, more than anything. He sniffled a few times, ran his inner wrist across his eyes, and gulped. "S-so, I'm done for either way?"

The detectives nodded.

"It's not only the gangs you have to worry about," Jacob carried on. "Your former employer isn't too thrilled with your decision not to pay her."

Novak snorted. "Rosalie."

"She's not gonna stop," Jacob told him. "Until she thinks she has to."

"Then, what good would getting protection be?"

"Rosalie isn't after your family," Leah said. "She's only after you. She won't touch your wife, your children, won't even solicit a hit. But the gangs?" She scoffed, humorless. "They won't give a damn. They'll go after everyone, even your father-"

"He's a friend of the family," Novak declared. "They'd never-"

"Don't be naive," Jacob said. "You know that means squat when it comes to handling business."

"So, I gotta talk?" Novak dropped his head in his again and screamed into them; the noise didn't catch the attention of anyone else; it was muffled.

"Should," Leah revised, watching Novak as he tossed his head back and slumped in his chair. "You don't have to do anything, but it'll make the blow hurt less."

Silence fell between them. The detectives kept a keen eye on the public defender as he alternated between wallowing and cursing under his breath. It was only a matter of time, Leah figured.

Jacob stretched the collar of his buttoned-up shirt and shared a look with Leah.

They had to do something before the man broke down.

They had to talk the man off the ledge before he did something stupid, like literally jump off of one. The window behind him was open, only protected by a screen. He could jump, if he wanted, and not survive the fall from four stories up—Novak would be useless to the investigation if he were dead.

Leah rose from her seat and walked around the desk. She stood a couple of feet away from the public defender, looking down at the sulking, conflicted man. She glanced at Jacob, who silently agreed with whatever plan of action she intended to take. She nodded and knelt, one knee on the ground.

"Give us a name..." Leah softly implored. She didn't care much for Novak, but she honestly didn't want anything to happen to his family. They didn't deserve the repercussions of their loved one's bullshit. "And we will help you out.

He would eventually give them a name: Edward Masen.

Just as Leah had suspected.

The meeting was over. They got what they wanted, and Novak, she supposed, poor Novak, just sat there, broken, contemplating his next move. The police would help him, Leah knew it, even if he was generally an asshole.

"Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us," Leah said, raising from her position. She held out her hand, anticipating a handshake. She wouldn't receive one. That was fine. "We'll keep in touch…and, as a word of advice, invest in a lawyer."

"And operate on the low," Jacob added.

"Novak's married to a high school science teacher," Jacob announced sometime later when he and Leah reached the car. He was reading off his work phone. "Has two kids. Both boys, ages five and eight."

Leah raised an eyebrow. "How do you get his family info so fast?"

"Asked for Jared for it during Novak's breakdown," Jacob explained, then, after letting out a deep sigh. "I may not like the man, but his family doesn't deserve this. Maybe the wife knows about Novak's dealing, but the kids?" He shook his head. "They don't deserve this."

"We have to talk to Paul," Leah said. She agreed with her partner, but until an agreement was reached after Novak provided information while in the presence of his lawyer, there wasn't much they could do. Witness protection was a quid-pro-quo arrangement.

"I know how you feel about witness protection for criminals," Jacob said to Paul later that day, "But is there any way we can guarantee anyone taking the stand without fearing the lives of themselves and their families?"

"You got to Novak," Paul realized, then with a smirk. "What did he say? Who did he rat on?"

"Edward Masen, the head of the Olympic Coven," Leah told her captain. "According to Novak, he was the one who put a hit on Mike for the whole Lauren-debacle. Novak was tasked with making a deal with someone inside of Cook County— we weren't able to get everything out of him. He's worried about his life, his family... he's angered a quite few people. From all fronts."

"We advised in to stay low and get a lawyer," Jacob added.

"That's what happens when he tries to be his father…" Paul mumbled under his breath, shaking his head. "I'm gonna call the Bureau and see what they can do for Novak. Make sure he's safe."

The detectives exchanged alarmed looks. Paul never liked getting the feds involved unless he felt there was no choice.

"Paul, what are you—"

"We can't provide Novak that much protection, but the feds can. At least, more than we can," Paul explained. "Mike, before his untimely death, was tied to federal criminal cases, as well. And now, he's dead. Novak was tied to the man, helping him get rid of charges with Sorio's approval—the feds are going to want to talk to him. Plus, Novak's a public defender. I guess, he can be considered more important than the average citizen— Listen, we can't let him get killed. It doesn't matter what Wilson says, the moment Novak's involvement hits the airwaves, it's going to be like a real-life Smokin' Aces—seen that movie?"

Leah and Jacob nodded. It was a movie, released some time ago, about assassins hunting down a witness in Vegas. It was a mess, a complete bloodbath, and something Chicago didn't need. For the umpteenth time.

"Hopefully, the feds can get him out of here," Paul continued. "Do you think he'll actually cooperate? I know he's big in the head."

"You should've seen him," Leah told Paul. "It was a complete 180."

"He knows he's screwed either way," Jacob added. "But if we can find any way not to contribute to this city's murder rate, that would be ideal."

Paul leaned back in his seat, dragging the desk telephone with him. "I'll give you an answer by the end of the day."

"I owe you dinner next week, don't I?"

Leah looked up from her computer and nodded. She had to give it up to the man, he was sticking to his vow. Free coffees and occasional steak dinners as a peace offering? She would never turn that down.

"Thursday, after work?"

Damn it. Leah shook her head. "No can do," she said, disappointed, then joked, "I have a date with Jane that night."

Jacob played along. "Ah, right. You're still going strong with her?" He laughed. "I thought by now, you would've gotten tired of each other and start seeing other people."

"Shut up—Shall I call you when I'm done?"

"Yes, and when you get home," Jacob said, nodding. "Just in case someone wants to follow you, shoot you or whatever."

Leah narrowed her eyes. "I can take care of myself, thank you."

"The fact that you're no longer human suggests otherwise," Jacob pointed out, wiggling his eyebrows until he was hit by a pen, thrown by the woman across him. It didn't hurt, by any means, but his expression was pained. "Hey, violence is not the answer!"

"Sometimes, it is," Leah said. "And when are you going to stop mentioning that? I was a lapse of judgment, I know." Judging on Jacob 's widened grin, not anytime soon. She narrowed her eyes even more and snorted, "I don't know why I deal with you sometimes."

That earned a hearty laugh. "Your life would be boring without me," Jacob declared. His expression softened. "I'm glad you're still alive, Leah." He raised his empty coffee cup when his partner finally dropped her glare. "Just keep it that way, will ya?" Leah's glare returned, but it didn't deter Jacob. "Look, I gotta save you, I'll do it because well, duh," He paused for a dramatic sigh. "But I'm not gonna be happy about it."

Leah rolled her eyes. (She might have shared Jacob's sentiment, but voicing such would only egg Jacob on even more). "Whatever. Raincheck for Friday night?"

"Fine by me," Jacob said, then groaned at the ringing of his desk phone ringing.

"It's a necessary evil," Leah remarked.

"I know," Jacob mumbled. He picked up the phone, exchanged the usual greetings. It was his friend from the Cicero Police Department. "Hey, Milano, what's up?" He jotted down some notes. "Really?" He glanced up and snapped his fingers to get Leah's attention. "Uh, huh... wait, seriously? Madagascar? What did TSA say?"

Leah scanned the note Jacob held up for her. Her eyes widened. It seemed that Jacob's friends in Cicero got some information on Gianna. The IP address tied to the woman's Facebook posts was from Madagascar.

"Oh." Jacob ran a hand across his forehead. "So, she hadn't left the country since 2017. Found that hard to believe given her former employers... Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know she was just a receptionist."

"VPN?" Leah mouthed.

A virtual private network would explain Madagascar.

Jacob nodded, then, raising both eyebrows, "She submitted her two-week notice at Napolitano's? Did she give a reason why?" His eyes widened. "Oh, she was asked to resign."

Leah didn't recall anyone mentioning any of that. If Gianna was more or less forced out, then why provide a two-week warning? She could've been walked out.

"Wait—what?" Jacob coughed. "They have access to their employee's bank accounts? That's legal?"

Leah blinked. She was pretty sure it wasn't unless the Volturi had a contact inside the banking world and was able to receive their employee's bank transactions. Which, now she was thinking about it, wasn't too far-fetch.

She shook her head.

Jacob shrugged and listened on, "It was because of that ten-grand." He slapped his forehead. "Yeah, I forgot the banks flag deposits starting at that amount..."

Leah made a note of Jacob's comment. He must be referring to the ten grand Gianna had received from the Cullens for her "cooperation". Somehow, with the access to Gianna's banking transactions, the Volturi had discovered such action, deemed it suspicious… everything went downhill from there.

"Yeah, thanks, man," Jacob said. "We appreciate all the help. This case is kicking out asses…Yeah, I'll let you know when we get something on our end." He wrote down a phone number. "Alright, thanks again. Give Marissa my regards—Alright, yeah, have a good day, as well."

"Marissa?" Leah asked when Jacob hung up the phone.

"His wife," Jacob clarified, then as he flipped through his notes, "The Volturi are some shady people. They keep tabs on every person employed at that agency, even the cleaning staff. Know their medical records, financial records—everything."

"I'm surprised they hadn't gone after Gianna's family," Leah remarked. As far as she knew, Mr. and Mrs. Castellano were alive and well (as they could be, given the circumstances). "But then again, it seemed like Gianna kept her parents in the dark."

"The smartest thing she had done yet," Jacob said. "So, apparently, all the computers and networks at Napolitano's have VPN's set in different countries…"

"Which explains Madagascar."

"Yes." Jacob scrunched up his nose. "The two-week notice is interesting…"

"Usually, when you get the pink slip, you're out that very day."

"But they let her resign…"

"You sure she resigned?"

"They could've been covering their asses."

Leah nodded. "Exactly. Arrange everything to look like Gianna was planning to leave Napolitano's, the area so if, well, when, she disappears, it doesn't look suspicious…" She rubbed her chin. "But if that's the case, why dispose of her at the landfill? They could've cremated her or dump her in the lake."

"They were trying to prove a point."

"To whom?" Leah asked. "Us? Anyone else? It wasn't an accident she was left there. Didn't Wilson say that his boys were paid to move her?"

"Maybe they wanted to send a message to the Cullens?" Jacob offered. "Let them know what happens when someone plays on both teams? They could've tasked Demetri to do the job, after his little date with Jessica. Can't see why anyone would want to get involved."

"And Wilson won't tell us who contracted the move," Leah said, then, "But maybe Novak can. After all, he brokers deals, right? And Wilson knows of him."

It turned out, as the detective found out later that week, Novak had nothing to do with the contract on Gianna's life and final (temporary) resting place. He never worked for the Volturi, only on behalf of the Cullens and the Denalis.

"Another dead end," Jacob grumbled, tapping his forehead on the steering wheel. "So close, yet so far."

"We need the Volturi back."

"Well, they're currently enjoying themselves in Moldova," Jacob mumbled, then, "Jane told you anything on?"

"Nothing concrete," Leah admitted. "Besides Gianna being disposal, being in over her head. Not worth turning into a vampire—you know, the usual. I'll get more information next week when I speak to her face-to-face."

Leah and Jane occasionally discussed information over the phone when their scheduled conflict, but the detective truly preferred in-person meetings. She was pretty sure all detectives did. There was something valuable about looking beyond the words, watching the other person's body language, silent cues.

"So, since Novak wasn't involved in Gianna's mess, there has to be another middle-man, right?" Jacob asked. "Someone to make sure there was an enforceable contract between both parties."

Leah snorted. "Murder contracts aren't enforceable under the law." She tapped Jacob's arm and smirked, "I thought you knew that?" She shared a light chuckle with her partner, then, "Let's head back to the station before Paul gets all dramatic and sends out a search party."

"Hey, sorry to call you both in right before you leave, but I have an update on our friend, Vincent Novak," Paul announced before motioning both Leah and Jacob to enter his office and take a seat. He seemed relieved, something the detectives weren't used to seeing in this environment. "First, he wised up and got a lawyer—his dad."

Jacob and Leah nodded as they took their seats.

Leah nodded. "As expected," Leah remarked.

"And?" Jacob asked.

"Earlier this afternoon, Novak pled guilty on a couple of public corruption charges— apparently the fool did his business across state lines," Paul continued. "Looking at five in federal prison. Can be paroled after two."

"The bastard actually took a plea," Jacob said, amazed, then, "How bad could it have been?"

"Ten to fifteen."

"They're using him for information," Leah realized.

Paul nodded.

"What about witness protection?" Jacob asked.

"They're working on it," Paul said. "Barba has her minions all over this case. Apparently, she's also not too thrilled about Mike's fate."

"What did Jenks say?" Leah asked.

"Recused himself. Doesn't want to get involved in anything Novak-related. But I'm sure he's happy about Mike's case finally closing."

"He lost his chance for a prosecution," Jacob argued. "He had Lauren's case in the bag."

Paul shrugged. "Shit happens."

"So, Mike's case is done?" Leah asked.

"It's in Cook County and the feds' hands. So yeah, I'd say it's done," Paul decided, letting out a sigh of relief. "Fucking finally."

Fucking finally, indeed.

"And Edward?" Jacob asked.

"He's the feds' problem," Paul declared. "They'll probably unleash RICO Hell on him," then added, "For intimidating and ordering the hit on municipal and federal witnesses."

"He probably made Mike go after Lauren," Leah added on. "Told the man it was his fault for rescuing her, his fault that refused to cash in on the bribe and run to us with open arms."

"We saw that coming from miles away," Paul said. "But she didn't want the protection. Not to blame the victim, but she didn't exactly help her cause."

"No, she didn't," Jacob agreed, then, "So, is Mike done?"

Paul nodded and slapped the top of his desk. "Yeah, he's done."

"Seems like an end of an era," Aisha breathed out the following morning as she and coworkers watched on as Jacob crossed Mike's name off the "homicide investigation" board, hanging up near the office space entrance. "About damn time."

"It wasn't the best result," Leah admitted, taking a sip of her tea. "But at least, someone's going to jail for it."

"What about Munson?"

"He's getting charged, too," Leah said. "Can't go around, killing off inmates. He had a good reason to accept the task, but still."

Aisha nodded, then, "What about his child's illness or something?"

"No one's touching that."

"Oh, good."