FanStory.com - Spirited Justice Chap 29by Begin Again

"No — Carlos!" The agonizing words escaped Angelo's throat as he twisted in his sleep. His mind had replayed the scene a thousand times, whether awake or in a dream — the muffled shouts, the chaos, the bodyguards, and him rushing into the bedroom. Carlos crumpled on the floor — blood spreading beneath his body. Jose gripping the gun as if it were his lifeline. The gunfire — rapid with no hesitation. The sound roared in Angelo's head, and he jerked, muttering, "I'm sorry."

He sat slumped in the hospital chair, his head resting on Naomi's bed — his hand holding hers. The heart monitor's beep and ragged breathing were the only sounds in the room — until a voice whispered, barely audible, and called his name, "Angelo."

His head shot up, his eyes meeting hers, but instead of joy, he saw fear.

"Naomi?" he whispered, caressing her hand.

She blinked, her gaze shifting to her lap, unable to look at him directly, as she murmured, "Jose — he thinks he killed me, but he'll be back."

His heart clenched. "Naomi, he can't hurt you anymore," he said firmly. "Jose is dead."

Her eyes widened, panic clouding her face. "You — Angelo, did you — did you kill him — for me?"

Angelo shook his head, brushing his thumb across her hand. "No, Naomi. I would have, but Carlos's bodyguards took care of it. I didn't have to do it." His voice was calm, but inside, he felt the sorrow. "I couldn't save Carlos." Angelo choked on his words. "Jose killed his own father."

Naomi exhaled, understanding Angelo's troubled emotions. "I'm sorry. I know you and Carlos were friends, regardless of your differences."

"I should have been by his side." He sighed, his breath catching. "I should have stopped —"

"Angelo, Jose was evil, but how could you know he would kill his father?"

Angelo closed his eyes and nodded. "I know, but —"

"You're free of them now." She inhaled deeply before slowly releasing her breath, almost as if she were cleansing her body. "We're free, Angelo."

He offered a small smile and nodded. "You're safe. That's the important part."

A faint smile crossed her lips. "It's because of you — you always rescue me, just like in Mexico.

Angelo swallowed, looking into her eyes. "Don't worry about Mexico," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It's behind you now."

But before he could say more, a voice from the doorway shattered the moment.

"I'd like to ask a few questions about Mexico," Garth said, stepping into the room. The FBI agent's expression was unreadable as he glanced between them.

Angelo stiffened, his protective instinct flaring. Naomi's grip on his hand tightened.

"Who are you?" Angelo's eyes darted toward Naomi. "Push the call button. Get security."

"That's probably a good idea. Seeing as how I haven't told anyone I am here."

"You should go — the owner is —" Angelo stammered.

"A gangster. Yeah, I've known him since we were little boys."

Naomi stuttered, and her eyes flared as she looked at Angelo and then at Garth, swallowing hard. "Angelo, what do you mean? Is the owner a gangster? I thought I was in a hospital."

Garth laughed and tipped his hat toward Naomi. "Ma'am, there's no better facility in the United States, probably the world, but yes, it's owned and operated by Frank DiVito."

"Angelo. We — we've got to get out of here."

Angelo stood and placed himself between Naomi and Garth's line of sight. "Whatever you want, she didn't have anything to do with it." Instinctively, his hand shifted to his gun holster before realizing he'd checked it before they allowed him to enter the hospital.

"Easy, partner. Maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Garth Woodman. FBI Special Agent Investigator."

"FBI?" Angelo swallowed. "Is this about Carlos and Jose Hernandez because she had nothing to do with them?

Naomi's eyes filled with tears as she looked at Angelo and then Garth. "That's not true, Angelo. It's time to tell the truth, or we will never be free."

"My first time hearing about the Hernandez family, but I'd love to know more. For now, my interest lies in why Arthur Beckett made you the beneficiary of his effects, including a five-million-dollar life insurance policy and an offshore account."

Naomi gasped. "What?" She hesitated, trying to understand. "The company bought those policies. I have one, too. Patti Beckett is the beneficiary of Arthur's policy."

"She was, but a supplement was filed, changing the beneficiary to you. Were you — uh — pardon me, ma'am, but were you having an affair with Beckett?"

"Me and Becket? Oh God, no! We worked together. I was his lawyer."

"Hmmm, it made you privileged to have information he wouldn't share with many people. Were you blackmailing him?"

"Blackmailing — me blackmailing Becket. He was —"

Angelo's temper flared. "Naomi, stop. This guy has no right to come here and start accusing you of things. He's fishing."

Garth studied Angelo. "You're pretty uptight to be a bystander in this investigation. What's your role in all of this? Trying to secure some of that money for yourself?"

Angelo snapped. His fists tightened as he stepped forward, his body rigid with anger. "I don't care what badge you flash. I'm not letting you or anyone else drag Naomi into this mess!"

Garth remained calm, but his eyes sharpened, clearly prepared for confrontation. "I'm not here to drag anyone into anything, Angelo. But we need to get the truth out and fast."

Angelo scoffed. "The truth? You're a friend of a gangster! And now I'm supposed to hand over the one thing keeping us safe?"

The air chilled suddenly, and Eleanor's voice was firm but weary. "Enough, both of you!"

Her ghostly figure appeared between them, her expression one of exasperation. Angelo's shoulders tensed, but he held his ground. Garth gave her a respectful nod, though his impatience was apparent.

Eleanor looked pointedly at Angelo. "Have you given Garth the papers?"

Angelo shook his head, defiant. "No, Eleanor. That's our security. How do we know he's FBI? He's got ties to Frank DiVito for crying out loud!"

Garth shot Angelo a sharp look. "What papers?"

"The ones stolen from the safe deposit box," Eleanor cut in before Angelo could respond.

Garth's eyes narrowed. "And how does he have them?"

Eleanor's expression was stern as she answered, "He retrieved them after Jose—" she paused. "When he was in Mexico. They belonged to Lila Whitaker."

Recognition flickered in Garth's eyes. "Thomas Whitaker's daughter?"

"The one and the same," Eleanor confirmed.

Angelo crossed his arms, his voice low and firm. "Those papers stay with me until I know who I can trust. My friend died trying to do the right thing with them."

Eleanor moved closer to Angelo, her tone softening but insistent. "This isn't just about you, Angelo, or Carlos. Those papers are too important for any of us to hoard. He wanted you to give the papers to those who could help." She touched his arm, softly murmuring, "We're in this together."

Garth's voice was edged with frustration. "She's right! I don't care about Jose or anyone else. If those papers are standing between us and getting to the bottom of this, we need to work together."

Angelo hesitated, glancing between Garth and Eleanor.

"We don't have time for this," Eleanor reminded him. "We're not the only ones after those papers. If we don't act now, more people could die."

Angelo let out a frustrated breath but nodded slightly. "Alright, but only because I trust Eleanor. You — I've still got questions about."

Garth chuckled. "You're not alone. I've heard that from a lot of people."

*****

Patti Beckett sat stiffly in her chair, fingers fidgeting with a loose button on her blouse. Donatelli leaned in slightly, his eyes boring into her. "So, you admit you threw the rock."

Patti's lips quivered as she spoke. "Yes. I threw it. We were arguing, and I lost it. But he was alive when I left. I thought I saw someone else in the alley, so I ran. I didn't want him to die. I called 911 when I got out of there."

Donatelli kept his eyes focused on her. He wasn't prepared to let her off the hook. The silence in the room stretched as he sipped the coffee she'd served when he arrived.

Danni, invisible today, drifted closer, watching intently. A faint breeze rustled the papers on the coffee table as she floated near Donatelli. She studied Patti's face carefully, sensing the truth in her words.

Without speaking, Danni bent over to look at the notepad Donatelli had placed on the table. After a moment, she nudged it off the table swiftly. The pad clattered to the floor, startling Donatelli.

He glanced down and then felt a soft nudge on his shoe. He turned his gaze ever so slightly, catching Danni's nod. She was telling him Patti was being truthful. That anonymous 911 call had come in, just as Patti claimed.

Donatelli picked up the notepad, casually skimming through it as he processed this information.

Patti asked, "Do you know when they will release the insurance?"

Donatelli glanced up, narrowing his eyes. "That's up to the insurance company and the beneficiary."

Patti stiffened, a flicker of anger crossing her face. "But I am the beneficiary," she snapped.

Donatelli's eyes met Danni's translucent form for a brief second, sharing a knowing look. He turned back to Patti, coolly replying, "Not according to what we were told." Donatelli stood as if to leave, obviously ending the interview.

"What?" Patti leaned forward, her voice rising. "Wait! You can't just leave it like that! I was married to that scumbag for years. He cheated on me, and I deserve everything he had!"

Her voice broke off as her anger grew. "And if it wasn't for his lawyer — Naomi." She gritted her teeth, her tone dripping with disdain. "Naomi — is she the beneficiary? Is that why you're here? I might have to throw a brick at her, too."

Donatelli studied her reaction, noting the venom in her voice. "Careful, Mrs. Beckett. That sounds an awful lot like a threat."

Patti glared, her face flushing. "It's Williams," she corrected sharply. "I took back my maiden name."

Donatelli gave a small, calculated smile. "Well then, Ms. Williams, I'd be careful tossing around remarks like that."

Patti's eyes darkened, and she folded her arms tightly. "Somebody tried to kill Naomi, didn't they? What — do you think I had something to do with that?"

The department hadn't released details about Naomi. He was curious about how Patti knew that someone had tried to kill her. Donatelli's voice gave nothing away. "You said it, not me. Maybe you want to tell me what you know about Ms. Henderson?"

"Oh, stop it. I didn't kill anyone." Patti rose to her feet, her chair scraping loudly on the floor. "Now, I'm going to ask you to leave. I've said enough."

Donatelli stood, adjusting his coat as he moved toward the door. "We're done for now." He paused, his hand on the doorframe, turning slightly back toward her. "But I wouldn't be booking any trips soon, Ms. Williams. I might need to talk to you again."

Patti stood, unable to move, torn between fear and anger.

Once outside the apartment, Danni appeared. "She's hiding something."

Donatelli smiled, glancing briefly at her before heading down the hall. "She'll crack."

*****

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Donatelli, Patti's body slumped against the credenza. Her hand trembled as she dropped ice cubes into a glass and poured a drink. A long breath escaped her lips.

A figure emerged from the doorway of her bedroom. Tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating menace, the man stepped silently into the room. Patti's heart jolted in her chest, almost forgetting he'd been listening.

"They think I killed Arthur," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm not going down for murder."

The man's eyes narrowed, and he crossed the room in a few swift strides. Without warning, his hands gripped her arms and yanked her roughly into his chest. Hot and thick with the scent of cigarettes, his breath fanned her face. "You'll do what I tell you to do."

His grip shifted, one hand moving slowly up her neck. His fingers, cold and unyielding, pressed against her throat. Patti's pulse raced, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his grip tighten.

"Do I make myself clear?" His voice was a chilling hiss, his eyes boring into hers with a threat that weakened her knees.

Patti's lips trembled, and she nodded as best she could, his hand still pressed against her throat. "Y-yes," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

He let his hand linger for a moment longer, squeezing just enough to send a wave of terror through her before releasing her. Patti stumbled back, clutching at her neck, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

The man leaned in close, his mouth near her ear. "Remember, if you slip up — you won't live long enough to worry about it."

Patti's eyes, wide with fear, darted to the door, suddenly wishing Donatelli would return. But there was no help coming. She was on her own.