14 - J. T. Ellison [124]
“The spy. Lincoln told me he helped with the chauffeur.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that he’s a spy. I think he’s more of a facilitator.”
“Okay. I won’t even ask how he came to be friends with our Lincoln, then.”
“There’s nothing sordid. Lincoln doesn’t know the extent of this man’s reach. Anyway, he’s had Delglisi on his radar for a while.”
“The South American connection.”
“Right. Well, they want him. And they’re willing to do just about anything to get him. There’s just one little problem.”
“Win.”
Baldwin looked at her. “You peeked into the file, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t. I can only imagine that’s what it must be, because you’re treating me like a five-year-old. My father is a criminal, Baldwin. I can take it. So spill.”
“Okay. Mars was the bank, but your dad is Delglisi’s bagman. He’s the one moving the money. The authorities were closing in on him two months ago. He went overboard from THE SHIVER, but left a cool four million on board when he bailed. So not only are the South Americans and the Mexicans looking for him, he cost Delglisi a lot of money.”
“That’s why Delglisi thinks he can trade on Win’s life. Win’s a dead man regardless. There’s no way we can keep this quiet.”
“Taylor, there is a way.”
She set her latte on the desk and looked Baldwin straight in the eye. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. I’ve been talking to Garrett this afternoon. He can arrange for the Marshall Service to take him into protective custody. Your dad will have to testify against Delglisi, but they can keep him safe.”
Taylor leaned back in her chair, staring up at the watermarked ceiling tile that she’d inherited with the office. Official requests to replace the moldy brown splotch had been effectively ignored. She focused on the mark while her mind whirled. Was she willing to allow her father that kind of judicial forgiveness? She had never been able to muster her own absolution for him. Now the law would do something her heart would never allow, and her mind would fight. She didn’t think she could stand by and watch him glide yet again. But at the same time, the greater good would be served. Shit. Typical Win, ruining her thought process by simply existing.
“You’re right. But here’s a question for you. If Win is as big a part of this as we think, what now? He gets to go scot-free?”
“No, that’s not really how the witness protection system works. At this level, they’ll give him immunity to testify against Delglisi and his cronies. They’ll relocate him, probably out of the country, give him a new face, a new name, anything he needs to effectively disappear. It’s a lot more dangerous than romantic, I’ll give you that.”
“I can’t help it, Baldwin. It’s just not right. Besides, it’s all a moot point. He won’t do it. He won’t. He’ll go to jail before he rats Delglisi out. You don’t know my dad, Baldwin. He had a chance, way back at the beginning, to get off on the bribery charges. All he had to do was testify against Galloway. But he wouldn’t do it. He’s too stubborn. He’s got just enough of the gentleman in him that he feels obligated to stand by his criminal associates. He won’t testify.”
“We’ll make him, Taylor. The trick is to get Win here. We need to make the deal with him and take down Delglisi.”
“I’ll tell you what. Let’s look at these files first, see what Richardson came up with.”
“Okay. Time out on mystery and intrigue for a few moments. You read, I’ll look over your shoulder.”
“I hate it when you lurk.”
“Fine. You read, I’ll just sit here and take in your beauty.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll pass you the pages.” She opened the file. “Okay, Frank. Show me what was so important that it cost you your life.”
Black and white. Frank Richardson was a journalist. He had deep contacts, many people he could turn to if he needed a confirmation. He was old-school—two sources or he wouldn’t go to print. His diligence had won him the Pulitzer. And a seasoned journalist like Frank Richardson would have hit upon this immediately. The paperwork didn’t lie.
Anthony Malik was indeed