Lakeview Vendetta: A Gripping Vigilante Justice Thriller Read online

  Her phone chirped again, “Em, this is important.”

  Emily sighed, the memory of Angelica as a child throwing a temper tantrum on the floor, her small fists balled and clenched, her teeth gritted together, her shock of curly red hair jerking with every furious movement, “I was thinking about coming to Europe for a couple of weeks. Wanted to get out of Chicago for a little while. That’s why I don’t want to take any new cases. I wanted to surprise you.”

  It had been years since Emily had seen Angelica in person. The last time they had been together was when Angelica was staying in Rome, flitting from place to place, helping whoever got hurt — whether a mom who didn’t have money to take her child in for an ear infection or a criminal who had gotten shot while robbing a bank. Emily knew she and Angelica were quite different, but despite their differences, they both had the same strongly held beliefs that helping other people was right.

  Emily waited for a moment, wondering what Angelica was thinking or if there was a delay in her text being delivered across the ocean. She started her walk home, Miner still panting on the end of the leash from his sprints with George. Hopefully, that would be enough to keep the busy dog quiet for a few hours so Emily could sit down and do something meaningless, like read a book.

  When Emily had been terminated from the Chicago Police Department, she’d had to reinvent the structure of her day. No more shifts, no more checking in with the duty sergeant or the Chief of Detectives every day. No more monthly schedules or desperately trying to get time off for holidays and weddings and graduations.

  Emily glanced down the sidewalk, a pair of women just a bit younger than her talking and laughing. Where they were going, Emily didn’t know. She pulled Miner off to the side, standing on a patch of wet grass, asking Miner to sit, while the women passed by. As they did, one of them chirped, “Oh, he’s so cute!” Luckily, they didn’t reach for him. Miner didn’t much like strangers. As Emily stepped back on the sidewalk, she could smell the perfume from one of the women. With their hair done and their makeup on, they looked like women who were headed out to lunch or shopping, or both. Emily sighed, tightening the leash in her hand. That wasn’t something she was interested in. Those relationships were too surface for her liking. She gave Miner’s leash a little tug as they crossed a side street, feeling her cell phone vibrate in her back pocket.

  It was Angelica. “Don’t come.”

  Visions of those tantrums Angelica used to throw as a child passed through Emily’s mind again. “What do you mean, don’t come?” Emily typed as they rounded the corner back to her house.

  Before she could send the text, her phone rang. “I don’t want you to come to Europe!”

  No hello, no how are you. When Angelica started off yelling, it wasn’t a good sign. “What do you mean you don’t want me to come? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Emily reset the leash in her hand and used her other to hold the phone up to her ear.

  “My friend just texted me. She’s in trouble and you have to help her. I don’t want you to come. Stay and help her.”

  “What do you mean, she’s in trouble?”

  “She’s someone I met when I was at Illinois State,” Angelica said, her voice lowering slightly, but not enough that Emily was certain her temper tantrum was over. “There’s something going on. She won’t tell me exactly what it is, but I know she needs help. I help people when they’re sick. She’s not sick. She needs your kind of help.”

  By the time Angelica spurted all the words out, Emily was at the back door of her house. She fished the keys for the back door out of her pocket, letting Miner loose in the house, his collar jingling, his leash trailing off behind him as he trotted over to get water. Emily punched the buttons on her security system to disarm it, closed the door behind her and locked it. “Angelica, I can’t make any promises. I just got back from a whole string of cases. I wanted to take a little break. That’s why I was thinking about coming to see you.” Angelica was one of the few people Emily felt like she could be herself with. There weren’t many of those people left in her life anymore.

  A string of expletives in Italian were the next words that Emily heard, followed by something more intelligible, “I never ask you for anything! All I want you to do is to talk to her! She’s my friend. You should help her.”

  Emily felt her chest tighten, “I don’t have to do anything. It’s my life on the line if something goes wrong. I’m telling you, I want a break.”

  The fact that Angelica had pushed Emily to the point where she was losing her temper wasn’t anything new. Emily felt the blood rush to her face as she paced in the kitchen. Who was Angelica to make these demands on her? Yes, they were sisters, but there was no reason for her to become demanding and nasty. Emily bent over and unhooked Miner's leash. He glanced at her and then walked over to the corner where his bed was, groaning as he laid down. She knew she’d have a few minutes of peace and quiet from Miner. Getting the same from Angelica might be something else.

  “Angelica? You still there?” There was silence at the other end of the line. Angelica had hung up. Emily set the phone down on the counter, plugging it into the charger. Just like Angelica to hang up, she thought. That was typical. If she couldn’t win an argument, she’d just end it.

  While the morning had started peacefully, Emily now felt a pit in her stomach. She walked into her office, sitting down on the creaky old chair she’d had for longer than she could remember. Opening her email, she saw the normal promotional messages from companies she had bought clothes and home goods from, even an email from her dentist reminding her it was time for a cleaning. Down a little further on the list, there were three emails from people asking for her help. She printed each of them off, the whirr of the printer starting behind her, the clack of the track ejecting the paper as it finished. Emily shook her head. Every time she opened her email, there were requests for her help. Angelica didn’t understand that. Most of the requests Emily never responded to, knowing that engaging in a conversation with a family who had lost someone and who was looking for justice for their family would be difficult. The paper still felt warm from the printer when she touched it. She laid the emails in a straight line across her desk. Glancing at them quickly, she saw one was a request from someone who felt they had gotten a bad deal during their divorce settlement, another wanted to know the truth behind his grandmother’s death even though she had been diagnosed with cancer, and the third was a man who was looking for his high school girlfriend. Emily slid the sheets together in a stack, twisted in her desk chair and reached behind her, flipping open the lid of a cardboard banker’s box that was shoved up against the wall. It was filled with emails. The newest ones were added to the pile. None of those cases were ones Emily was interested in.

  The fight with Angelica had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She twisted her chair towards the window that faced out onto the street, watching a blue sedan drive past, the people inside none the wiser that Emily had seen them go by.

  She thought about Angelica again. Every time Emily took on a case, it was at her own risk. She had no badge to back her up. That was the part Angelica was missing. It probably seemed easy to her. Angelica probably assumed Emily found a case, solved it, doled out a little vengeance with an extra measure of justice, and then went right back to her happy life.

  That wasn’t the case.

  The cases that Emily chose were complex, ones that no cold case detective had been able to solve. That was the challenge. That was what she liked. She stared out the window for a moment longer, as a white delivery van with “Battaglia’s Pizza” painted on the side passed her window. When she first moved into the house, the noise from the traffic outside had bothered her, but she didn’t even hear it anymore. As she turned back to her computer, she heard her phone chirp. Emily sighed, wondering if anything else could go wrong.

  She padded into the kitchen, her sock-covered feet slipping on the wood floor just a little. As she turned into the kitchen, she noticed a new gouge on
the floor, probably from Miner scampering after something, his nails leaving a scratch. She’d try to rub that out later. Her phone was on the counter where she had left it. Checking her texts, she saw there was one from Angelica. There was no apology, just a name and a phone number.

  Emily turned her phone off. Angelica had a way of pushing her buttons. It was probably better if Angelica was in Europe. Maybe she should stay there.

  3

  Vince Olivas ran his fingers through his dark hair. He’d had a good evening, or at least he thought so. He glanced upward in the lobby of the skyscraper, an atrium extending up at least ten stories, covered in glass. An afternoon meeting with some potential investors and anchor tenants for his newest commercial project had turned into an invitation to join them for a late-night party on the top of a building they currently owned. It was an invitation that made Vince feel optimistic, as though whatever he had said during the meeting had convinced them that he had a good deal for them.

  Time would tell if that was the case.

  Vince covered the lobby in a dozen steps, making his way over to the bank of elevators. His contact, a guy just a couple of years younger than Vince, Adam Rossiter, had texted him the code to get up to the penthouse. As Vince stepped inside of the elevator, he straightened his tie, hoping he wasn’t overdressed for the party. Behind him, the elevator made soft pinging noises as it passed each floor, the whir of the gears and cables almost silent. It would’ve been better if the elevator was on the exterior of the building, Vince thought. The view would have been spectacular. He squinted his eyes for a moment. There might have been a reason that the developers didn’t use an exterior elevator, but that was why they needed to partner with him.

  Vince had lived in Chicago his whole life. His parents had immigrated from Columbia when they were first married, his father getting a job as a window washer, and his mother a clerk at the local bodega. His parents worked hard, and they succeeded. By the time Vince was in high school, his father owned the business and had expanded to three window washing crews, mostly working on downtown commercial office space.

  As Vince got older, he started to hear stories on television about families that would jet off to Vail or Aspen for the holidays, others that would spend their spring vacation in Hawaii. Knowing he could succeed was what drove Vince. Unlike a lot of his friends in high school, Vince worked hard, much to the pleasure of his parents. He got a scholarship to college and majored in business, working on a side job at the Spangler Rec Center, checking IDs for a little extra spending money.

  An internship his senior year of college had gotten him started in real estate. Vince’s dad had become acquaintances with the property manager for a large skyscraper. The summer before his senior year, Vince’s dad came in from work and slapped a business card down on the table. “This man has an internship for you. Call him first thing in the morning.” Vince made the call, which led to an interview, which led to an internship in commercial real estate. Vince was hooked.

  The elevator doors made a low pinging noise as they slid open. Vince stepped out onto the rooftop of the Tremont office building. The wind was blowing quite a bit more significantly on the roof of the penthouse than it had been on the street below. Vince shrugged his sport coat up around his neck and took a few steps forward, looking for Adam. On the other side of the rooftop deck, Vince spotted him, surrounded by a couple of other guys and two girls, their curled hair blowing in the wind, their bare legs hanging out from underneath short dresses. As Vince made his way over to Adam, he noticed there were groups of people clustered on the rooftop, some of them around the heaters that had been brought out, others leaning on the bar waiting for another glass of wine or maybe a martini. This was a martini drinking crowd, Vince thought. A drink sounded good right now, he thought, sticking his hand out to Adam, “Hey! Thanks for inviting me.”

  Adam, his blonde hair cropped short enough that the wind wasn’t grabbing it, returned the handshake, “Thanks for coming.” He pointed at a couple of the other people standing nearby. “That’s Brett, he’s one of my business partners. This is Ashley and Rachel. Ashley is my personal assistant and Rachel handles the office for me.” A smile crept over Adam’s face, “Good set up, right?”

  Vince wasn’t sure whether Adam was referring to the rooftop party or the girls, so he just nodded, “Yeah, for sure.” He looked at Brett and the girls and mumbled, “Good to meet you.”

  Before Vince could say much else, Adam pulled him away from the cluster of people. “Let’s get you a drink. We need to talk a little bit, huh?” Adam said, walking toward the bar.

  “Sure. That sounds good.” Vince knew that at parties like this, part of the game was letting the host be the big shot. They could negotiate nearly anything in the future as long as Adam continued to feel like he was the one in control. Vince knew better, though. He’d been playing this game for too long.

  At the bar, a black-uniformed bartender looked at them, waiting for their orders. “I’ll have a Manhattan,” Adam said and then looked at Vince. “How about you?”

  “That sounds good. I’ll have one of those, too.” Drinking the same thing as the host was just one subtle way that Vince got in their good graces. There was no reason to argue about brands of beer or other spirits before they got to know each other a little better. While the bartender mixed the drinks, Vince turned away from the bar and looked at Adam. “It this one of your properties?” Vince knew it was, but the question was a good conversation starter. He’d spent the better part of several weeks researching Adam and the properties that his company owned.

  “You bet it is. As a matter of fact, we have our headquarters here on the thirty-fifth floor, just below where we’re standing now.” Adam took his drink from the bartender. Vince watched as he took a big sip and then leaned forward, “We were going to keep the penthouse for our own offices, but we had a big law firm that offered us a premium for the space. Hard to turn that down.”

  Vince nodded and took a sip of his drink. The liquor they used wasn’t top shelf, he realized, the bitterness hitting the back of his throat. “What kind of other projects do you have going on right now?”

  “Well, we are in the middle of diversifying. We are looking at some manufacturing and warehouse space out on the edge of the city. How about you?”

  During their early afternoon meeting, Vince had already covered the fact that he was in the middle of redeveloping an office building downtown. Whether Adam remembered that fact or not after a few drinks, Vince wasn’t sure. “I’m about halfway through the Lakeview office building. I’m looking for some new investors and some anchor tenants. My partner,” he said, inserting a dramatic pause, “I’ve been having some problems with her.”

  Adam leaned a little closer, the alcohol on his breath burning the inside of Vince’s nostrils. “Her? That’s your first problem. Real estate development in Chicago is a tough business. Probably too tough for your partner.”

  Vince nodded and smiled. “Anyway, I have this project underway, but I want to get it finished and get it rented so I can expand my own business, you know what I mean?” Vince knew Adam would agree. That was part of his strategy, to make himself look a little weak, but that he had the same point of view as the person he was talking to. It put Adam in a position to think that he was just ahead of Vince in nearly everything, but that they thought alike. Camaraderie without competition.

  “If I remember correctly, the Lakeview complex was kind of an older project, right?”

  Vince nodded, “You’re correct,” he said, following Adam as they moved away from the bar. “It was built in the 1970s, but never updated. Prime location. Would be great for a setup like this,” Vince said, looking around at the view from the rooftop bar. He waited for a moment, watching Adam. It always took people time to absorb the information as Vince put it out there, feeding them crumbs. He shifted a bit, turning away from a gust of wind that overtook the rooftop. Vince motioned for Adam to follow him, giving him the idea Vince was go
ing to tell him something confidential. “I have to be honest, I’ve been having some serious issues with my business partner. She and I don’t quite share the same vision for the Lakeview complex, if you know what I mean.”

  Adam’s eyes were glazed, the effect of the alcohol taking its toll. “Oh, I know all about that. Can’t tell you how many business partners and investors we’ve been through over the last ten to fifteen years. I should have notches on my belt!”

  Vince nodded. In his research on Adam and his family’s company, Vince noticed they’d had a long list of past business partners and investors. That didn’t matter to Vince. Vince only needed him for one project. This project. It would be the one that would give him the freedom he needed, the freedom to work the way he wanted to work, without partners. “So, you understand what I mean. You understand that having the right partners for the right project can make all the difference.”

  “Yes, I do,” Adam said, dipping his head forward as he drained the glass of the last bit of the Manhattan. He set it down on a table nearby. “You said your business partner has been a problem. Maybe we should talk about how to move her out of the picture so that I can give you a hand. Lakeview sounds like a project that might fit our profile…”

  Vince looked down for a moment, a calculated move to make himself look more humble and more willing to take whatever help Adam would give him, “That would be fantastic. I’d be incredibly grateful. You have no idea what I’ve been through…”

  4

  Marlowe ached all over. She turned to her side on her friend Kelsey’s couch. After a couple of hours at the office in the early morning, she’d gone back to her condo to get the last things that were there. The Lakeview office building project had taken all of the money she had — even her personal funds. Three months before, the bank had started the eviction process and a judgment had been issued that she needed to move out. As of this moment, I’m homeless, she thought, trying to rearrange the lumpy couch pillows under her shoulder. No matter which way she turned, she wasn’t comfortable. She couldn’t tell if it was just achiness from packing up all of her things and driving them over to a rented storage unit or something else. Maybe stress. There wasn’t time to worry about how she felt. She needed a plan.