CHAPTER 17
Impending fatherhood almost kept Lucky’s mind off of O’Donoghue moving into the boss’s office. That and a promise to Bo not to beat the living shit out of the man.
Johnson wasn’t at the next desk. The desk she’d have to vacate to let Bo move back in. Was there any way to fit three desks into this one cubicle?
The three of them, in close proximity all day. What a way to make O’Donoghue nervous.
His phone chimed with a text and he checked the screen.“Check your email.”Who left that?
Though it went against his normal method of operation, Lucky did as told and found an email from[emailprotected]. Probably a throwaway address. Was this one of those things where he’d open an attachment and get his hard-drive fried? Should he? Shouldn’t he? Should he tell somebody? Where had it come from?
The last time he’d been told to watch a video, Walter had nearly died. He clicked on the link and settled back in the chair from hell, holding his coffee cup aloft in case the Hell Bitch tried to throw him.
Landry’s face showed on his computer screen. What the fuck? “Lucky, I…” Lucky hit the mute button and peered out of his cube into the corridor. Good. No one. Might freak someone the hell out to hear the bastard’s voice. Lucky dug through his desk drawers. There. A pair of earbuds. Was there anything the fuckup could say that Lucky wanted to hear? More threats?
He started the video over.
“Lucky, I know I wasn’t your favorite person, but you have to believe me. I didn’t kill Chastain. I didn’t try to kidnap your sister, and I am not behind any of what’s happening to you. I haven’t even been in Atlanta. I just came back yesterday when I heard about the crap.”
The months since their last meeting hadn’t been kind to Landry. His cheeks appeared gaunt, and he could use a good shave and haircut. He folded his hands and touched the tips of his index fingers to his lower lip. He seemed to be sitting at some kind of desk or table, speaking into a web cam, but Lucky couldn’t make out any details of the room.
“Yes, I tried to steal Chastain’s drug. Yes, I’d have been rewarded for my actions, but Lucky, this goes way higher than me.” Dark circles underscored Landry’s eyes, and his hair fell lank and greasy over his forehead. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke at the screen. Landry smoked?
“Check the personnel logs for the past year, not just for Southeastern, but the other Narcotics Bureau divisions too. There’ve been some major changes, particularly in the upper echelons. Nothing happens without reason.
“I didn’t kill anyone, but someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure I got the blame. I’ve been compromised. I’m expendable. Your distraught partner wouldn’t fight having his promotion taken away, and the man who brought me in would be a hero. Jameson is anything but a hero, though I doubt I’d be brought in alive. We can’t let him get away with anything he’s planning.”
We?
Well hell. Lucky and Landry finally agreed on something: they both thought O’Donoghue lower than a snake’s belly.
Onscreen, Landry continued, between drags on his cigarette. “The only gun I own doesn’t match the one used to kill Chastain. Watch Jameson. You’ll find out all you need to know. And, Lucky? Tell Bo I’m sorry. I really liked him, you know, but not in the way you think. Even coming on to him was Jameson’s idea. You were the target. Always were. You stood in his way. I’m not sure what lengths he would have gone to, but he wanted you gone. He wanted to keep Bo around. Between your past and Bo’s, if anything went wrong with whatever plans the asshole made, he’d have Bo to throw under the bus, and point out the connection between him and a former drug trafficker.
“He promised Greg control of surveillance, and Philip would take over training. I don’t think anyone else in the Atlanta office was in his pocket, but you never know. We drugged Walter’s coffee cup. Jameson said it’d knock him out, make him doubt his health and agree to retirement. He may be an asshole, but he knows his shit. If Walter nearly died, that’s what Jameson intended—a lethal dose.” Landry sucked on his cigarette again, releasing a cloud of blueish smoke. “I’m sorry about that too.” He shook his head, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. “Seems I’m regretting a lot of choices I’ve made these days. The biggest regret? Trusting Jameson O’Donoghue, and believing one damned word coming out of his mouth.
“You’ll find a list of names attached to my email. Check them out. And Lucky, do me a favor? Take Jameson O’Donoghue down. I don’t know how this’ll play out.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “I won’t be around long. When you find my dead body, you’ll know who to look for. One bullet to the head, no struggle. Who else could walk into a man’s house and simply kill him, except for a man with a badge?”
The video ended. Lucky played it again three times.
He checked the names and let out a low whistle. Yeah, the corruption went deep if all these folks were involved. Could he trust the lying snake of a man who’d nearly killed Walter?
Icy fingers trailed down his back and wound up in Lucky’s gut. Landry was now, by his own admission, in Atlanta.
Lucky rose and headed toward the boss’s office with his laptop.
He nearly ran into Jameson O’Donoghue. “What you got there, Lucky?” He held out a hand, eyes full of contempt and suspicion in equal measure.
Loretta Johnson hip-checked O’Donoghue out of the way and plucked the laptop from Lucky’s hand. “I was just coming to get this. Keith says the upgrade will take about an hour.”
O’Donoghue narrowed his eyes.
Johnson waved her coffee cup in his direction and placed the cup and her ginormous handbag on the desk, showing her intent to stay. All the while clinging to the laptop. Talk about multi-tasking. “Lucky, I’m so sorry about your car. Are you okay? What happened?” Like she didn’t know, having sat with Charlotte until Lucky got home and helping him with his reports.
Johnson sure knew how to give a performance for an unwanted audience’s sake. “You need something, O’Donoghue?” Since when had the woman ever sounded so… sweet?
O’Donoghue glanced from one to the other, spun on his heel, and slithered off.
Being near the man left Lucky with the sudden desperate need for a shower. “Thanks for acting as buzzard repellent.”
