Condemned (Julian Mercer Book 1) Read online

  “There was a good chance he was dead.” Mercer shrugged. “Really, what was the point of checking? He either was or wasn’t. It was no longer my concern.”

  Muttering curses under his breath, Bastian rubbed a free hand down his face. “Fine, but just know that I don’t believe you.” The uncomfortable silence lingered a moment more. “Welks is at the hospital. His wife is with him. Rowlins has convinced them to voluntarily enter into protective custody. It seems the private investigator has plenty to say that will corroborate what we’ve found and solidify the evidence needed for the police to make a strong case against Armann and Pierce.”

  “Excellent.”

  “We can stop now, Jules. The CPD issued an all points and will arrest Daniel Pierce as soon as they spot him.”

  “And you think someone who went to such great pains to avoid detection up until this point will be located that easily?”

  “The job is basically over. You determined the identity of the assassin and the man who hired him. The only thing left to do is provide Katia with protection until Daniel is apprehended. Rowlins has assured me that it shouldn’t take long. They are maintaining eyes on his brother, Jack, their family’s office building, Carlton’s newspaper, and Rhoade himself. Daniel will surface. I’m sure of it.”

  “Maybe.” Mercer picked up the dossier and left the room. Bastian was right. Their job was almost done. A couple more hours or days of bodyguard work and this should be resolved, but Julian was having issues separating his personal stake in the matter. After all, the man Pierce hired had attempted to kill Julian twice and taunted him repeatedly. And that wasn’t very nice, now was it? “Let me know what Donovan and Hans find,” Mercer yelled from the next room.

  “Fine.” Bastian knew Mercer wouldn’t reconsider. The commander wanted to resolve this, so they would.

  Settling into the living room, Mercer read through the information on Daniel Pierce. Maybe if they had explored this avenue earlier, those three police officers would still be alive, Ben and Katia wouldn’t have been further traumatized, and Mercer wouldn’t have been grazed by a bullet or had to deal with the annoyance of a dislocated shoulder. At least they were on track now.

  Daniel Pierce was four years older than Jack. After graduating with a MBA from one of the world’s most prestigious business schools, Daniel went to work at his father’s company. Within a few months, he was made head of advertising, but he wasn’t trained for such a position. Marketing wasn’t his forte, so in order to gain further insight into that industry, he went on sabbatical at his father’s insistence and interned at a few advertising agencies, magazines, and newspapers. His last stint landed him at Carlton Rhoade’s newspaper.

  Despite the fact that a newspaper didn’t offer much insight into a business’s marketing strategy, it would earn him plenty of contacts at the big publishers and access to reporters at the major media outlets. This was meant to ensure plenty of positive press for Pierce Industries and the ability to squash any negative stories that might surface; however, Daniel was unlucky enough to be employed by Carlton at the worst time imaginable.

  Rhoade was running a series of pieces concerning government and business corruption, and one of the stories at the time focused on Pierce Industries. When Daniel failed to convince Rhoade to drop the story, Daniel’s father blamed him. After the internship ended, there was no position left at Pierce Industries for Daniel. The tides had turned, and despite the fact that Daniel had always been the fair-haired child, Jack had recently ended his friendship with Benjamin Styler and his investment portfolio had turned around. Pierce Industries gave Jack a top spot at the company, and Daniel was left out in the cold.

  Carlton Rhoade, despite his conniving and ruthless tactics, had a soft spot for Daniel and hired him as one of the business executives. Daniel’s fancy education and newly acquired marketing knowledge made him a great asset and quickly earned him a spot as Carlton’s right-hand man. But Daniel obviously still held a grudge against his brother and father and decided to do something about it.

  After reading the narrative of Daniel’s business life and filling in a lot of the blanks with conjecture, Mercer returned to find Bastian scanning the city’s surveillance system. Mercer studied the camera feed, noting the special interest Bas was taking in observing the Pierce Industries building and Jack’s apartment building.

  “Any other targets?” Mercer asked, leaning over his shoulder.

  “I’d say his father, but the man is out of the country on business. Styler and Katia are here. And if he wanted to put an end to Carlton Rhoade, he would have done so at the office.” He shifted his focus from the screens. “It’s pretty fucked up that Carlton just let him walk out that door. This is the man that nearly killed his daughter.”

  “Maybe Rhoade feels responsible,” Mercer suggested.

  “Still,” Bastian shrugged, “it seems strange. He seemed ready to send a team to eliminate us if we didn’t return Katia. Why wouldn’t he do the same to Daniel?”

  “Are we certain he didn’t?”

  “I’ll have Donovan check, and I’ll notify our detective friend.” Bastian picked up the phone. “Rhoade strikes me as the impatient type. Worse than you. So if he has any mercenaries on speed dial, I’m sure they’re already in play.”

  Thirty-five

  “Maybe I should call Jack,” Ben mused. It was obvious he and Katia were getting stir crazy. “I’m sure he could use some moral support now that we know his brother is a psychopath.”

  Mercer gave him a hard look, and Ben clamped his mouth shut. The longer they were stuck inside the safe house, the more fervently Mercer wanted to take action, but it was his orders that insisted two members of the team act as guards in the event of a worst case scenario. But as the hours ticked by and day turned to night and then back to day, he wanted to pound the pavement.

  Donovan’s questioning and search were fruitless. As far as they knew, no one else was hired to replace Isaac Armann. The man was under heavy guard and in a medically induced coma due to the severe infection and injuries sustained. It was unlikely he’d survive the night. Luckily, the two actors Armann hired had been located by the police.

  Westin insisted that the cell phone and wallet he had pick-pocketed from Katia had been handed over to Armann. The two crooks turned actors poured their guts out in the hopes of avoiding criminal charges. After being hired, Manning and Westin were told that they would be playing gangsters in a noir crime film. The men were given suits to wear and told to lurk about. The day they visited Ben Styler’s apartment building was the day Armann originally planned the murder scene, but they missed Styler by a matter of minutes. And believing it was a script, they had entered his unlocked apartment, checked for the camera crew and other actors, and left completely confused. Armann told them the scene had been rewritten because the actor hired to play the victim was called away on an unexpected emergency, and the two never called this into question. Even after the shooting in the alley, they still claimed to believe it was just part of the film.

  Despite their helpfulness in providing testimony against Isaac Armann, the two actors had never heard the name Daniel Pierce nor could they identify his photo from the pictures the police showed them. Daniel had made sure he insulated himself from the crime in order to paint someone else as the guilty party. And while the bulk of the circumstances pointed the finger at Carlton Rhoade, the question on everyone’s mind was why did Armann hire two actors that resembled Jack Pierce’s co-workers.

  The only man that could answer that question was Daniel Pierce. The CPD was still searching for him. His credit card activity and normal haunts were undergoing heavy scrutiny, but it seemed like the man had simply vanished into a puff of smoke.

  “Anything, Hans?” Mercer asked as the younger man returned from his outing, carrying stacks of information and computer disks.

  “Tons of feed to be scrubbed,” Hans replied, dropping the files and disks onto the desk beside Bastian. “I also asked the detectiv
e to pull the police records for Dean Manning and Keith Westin, the entire police file on the current shooting investigation, a copy of his personal notes, and the little things that never became official.” He glanced back at Mercer. “Sometimes, the coppers aren’t a bad lot.”

  “Right,” Mercer replied sarcastically, picking up the detective’s personal set of notes and skimming the chicken scratch that covered several sheets. “The police conducted a follow-up with Daniel’s co-workers, but they don’t know anything about the hit.”

  “Daniel still has access to the Pierce Industries building,” Bas added, already loading data into one of the computers. “It looks like he accessed the employee database and determined who worked closely with his brother. Then he found the lookalikes to make the frame-up appear even more convincing, as if the falling out Jack and Ben had wouldn’t have been convincing enough.”

  “Cold-blooded bastard,” Hans remarked, stifling a yawn. “I’m knackered.”

  “Take some downtime,” Julian instructed. “It’ll be awhile before we determine what is relevant to identifying Daniel’s current location.”

  “Did the police have a conversation with Jack about his brother?” Bastian asked, wondering if Julian had come across that information yet.

  “I don’t know. You spoke to Rowlins. What did he say?”

  “Not much. He’s been too busy keeping our descriptions and involvement out of this mess. Shit, you’ve been locked up three times. The rest of the police department thinks you’re in cahoots with the killer. So be thankful someone is on your side.”

  “It isn’t the first time I’ve been blamed. Tell Rowlins to do his job and stop covering my arse. I can take care of myself.”

  The rest of the day was spent analyzing the data. Daniel Pierce had enough access to his father’s company and Carlton’s newspaper to plant evidence against Jack Pierce and Carlton Rhoade. As far as Bastian could tell, it seemed Daniel was hoping to implicate both men. But why? If Daniel wanted to discredit his brother’s character, having him accused of murder seemed like a great way to do that. So why did he also frame Carlton? Sure, Mr. Rhoade had motive and means, but something was still missing.

  Around midnight, the computer let out a warning beep, and Bastian swiveled in his chair, focusing on the surveillance feed outside Jack Pierce’s apartment building. Daniel entered through the side door usually reserved for building maintenance and deliveries. The police had a few units on-site and the building under surveillance, but Mercer didn’t necessarily trust them to make the best decisions. They hadn’t so far. And he couldn’t be certain they were paying attention now.

  “Jules, wait,” Bastian called, but Mercer was already out the door. “Bloody hell.” Sighing, Bastian dialed Rowlins, relayed the information and Julian’s ETA, and then woke Hans and Donovan. “Be on alert here, I’m going after the commander.”

  As Mercer neared the apartment building, he noted the dozen unmarked police vehicles creating a perimeter around the area. The side streets and main thoroughfare were blocked off, angering the city’s occupants who had to reroute. Slamming the car to a stop and blocking half of a dead end alley, Mercer went around to the trunk and strapped on the Kevlar. Briefly, he checked the clip in his gun, stowed an extra magazine in his pocket, and zipped his jacket over his new ensemble. Then he hoofed it the next three blocks to the apartment building.

  “Detective Rowlins,” Mercer greeted, “what’s the situation?”

  “We don’t know.” Rowlins made a face. “A man matching Daniel Pierce’s description was seen entering the side door, but no one can verify if it’s him. We’ve made contact with Jack, but he says he got in late and went in the side. There hasn’t been so much as a peep from building security or any 911 calls to report a disturbance. We don’t want to tip Daniel off if he’s not there.”

  “Goddamn morons.” Mercer took a step forward, intent on entering the building and resolving the issue, but Rowlins grabbed him by the collar.

  “Not so fast. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m a professional negotiator. Daniel Pierce is inside. And if he isn’t, the dozen unmarked cars rerouting traffic and the plainclothes officers talking into their sleeves have already tipped him off. Either way, you’ve been made. Now are you going to handle this, or should I?”

  Rowlins considered his options. From the grim expression on his face, it was obvious he agreed with Mercer’s assessment. “My hands are tied by the white shirts. Good luck.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

  Squaring his shoulders, Mercer took a final deep breath, stretched his sore arm and continued to the side of the building. If Daniel found an alternative method of entry besides the doorman in the lobby, Mercer could do the same. He went around the side to find a metal box requiring a four digit pass code. After giving the door a quick tug, he pulled out his phone and dialed Hans.

  “Pass me to Styler,” he instructed. And once he heard Ben’s uncertain hello, he asked, “What’s the code to get into Jack’s apartment building?”

  “Two one six three,” Ben replied, hearing an unfriendly click echo in his ear.

  Mercer entered the code and watched the button turn from red to green. He tugged, and the door opened. He stepped inside. The side door led down a narrow hallway that opened up in three different directions. One path led to the lobby, the other to the basement, and the third to a staircase. Mercer took the stairs up to Jack’s floor and exited quietly. Glancing into the hallway, he spotted a man and woman sharing an intimate moment, but the rest of the floor was empty. He passed the lovebirds and continued to Jack’s apartment.

  Examining the door, there weren’t any signs of forced entry, but it was possible Daniel possessed a key or knew how to get inside Jack’s apartment. They were brothers, and oftentimes, family could gain access even when they shouldn’t be able. It explained why so many of the kidnappings Mercer had seen revolved around one parent taking a child from the other. Mercer shook the wayward commentary aside, refocusing on the matter at hand. He waited half a minute, debating if he should go in loud. His presence would be immediately known, but he would also have the element of surprise.

  “Bollocks.” He took a step back and kicked the door just above the knob.

  The frame splintered, and the door popped open. Luckily, no one had bothered to lock the deadbolt. He entered the room swiftly, his gun poised in front of him. The apartment wasn’t incredibly large, and Mercer didn’t have time to perform a proper sweep before two men emerged from a side room. Daniel Pierce was holding Jack at gunpoint, waving him forward with the muzzle of his gun.

  “Julian Mercer, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you,” Daniel said, smirking. “You’ve definitely made this more difficult than it had to be, but regardless, I salute you, sir. Your reputation doesn’t do you justice. And now the final piece has fallen into place.”

  Thirty-six

  “Drop it,” Mercer growled, aiming at Daniel’s head, but Daniel grabbed Jack and pulled him backward for protection. “Don’t be stupid. Let’s calm down.”

  Daniel swayed slightly, keeping a firm grip on Jack. “Your appearance this evening, Julian, is precisely what I was counting on. Y’see, after Isaac failed the first time, I had to reassess the situation. A botched attempt didn’t fit into my plans, and he was supposedly the best in the business or at least the best in the area. It’s a shame money couldn’t buy exactly what I wanted.”

  “Then you should have done it yourself.”

  “Probably, but how could I pin it on someone else?” Daniel shook his head. “No. It was supposed to be simple. The day after the shooting, Carlton should have come to work outwardly distraught but utterly relieved that Benjamin Styler was dead. It was one less mooch for him to worry with, and that would mean his daughter stood to inherit everything.”

  “You wanted to kill Ben so some chick could keep her inheritance?” Jack asked, stunned.

  “No, little brother. You�
�re so naïve. Ben was granted legal privileges to Katia’s accounts. It was some arrogant showing of trust and a slap in the face of her father who wanted them to sign a pre-nup. It would have added to Carlton’s motive.”

  “Were you planning to seduce her after you murdered my best friend?” Jack asked, and Mercer realized Jack was asking questions in order to buy time and distract Daniel. With any luck, Daniel would forget to remain in motion and Mercer could take the shot without being forced to inflict collateral damage.

  Daniel laughed a low, bitter sound. “Idiot. I can’t believe Dad lets you run his company. You have no imagination or ingenuity. If it weren’t for me, you would have continued making bad investments. I gave you those stock tips and some insider trading information, but you couldn’t even stand up for me when I was thrown out of the company.” Daniel edged toward the wall, slamming Jack into it, causing a river of blood to run downward from his scalp.

  “You wanted the authorities to think Carlton hired Isaac Armann to eliminate Styler because of the blackmail,” Mercer said, distracting Daniel before he could clock Jack with the gun.

  “Bingo. At least someone else in this room has two functioning brain cells.” He made a contented noise. “Then again, if you had thought ahead, you would have figured out my end game and not stepped right into the perfect trap.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Mercer asked, slowing circling. “Why don’t you share it while you can still speak?”

  “The evidence points to Carlton. First, the private investigator discovered that Styler blackmailed his future father-in-law, and the communications and money that went to the P.I. filtered through Rhoade’s newspaper. There’s an easy paper trail for the authorities to follow. Carlton even took a meeting near the dead drop that I established for Welks. It was damn near perfect,” Daniel boasted. “And you were just the icing on the cake.”

  “Explain,” Julian said, noticing movement in the periphery.