“I’ve got a couple of theories on that,” Emmerson said. “One of them is ass-backward.”
Rhett knew where his brother was going because his mind had started to backtrack there, as well. “Are you suggesting that perhaps the Gorgas asked Joe to kill his brother, and this came from them? That they have been controlling him from New Jersey with this and giving him his freedom but having him do little favors so this will stay hidden?”
“That’s one theory. We haven’t been able to put eyes on Joe, which makes me think that these papers would put him in hot water with the Gorgas if it came out. So, he has to protect them. But it could work the other way, as well.” Emmerson leaned against the back counter.
“Meaning he can’t afford for the information to come out, or the Gorgas will send someone to kill him.” Rhett rolled his neck. No matter how this played out, they were dealing with some bad people.
“Exactly,” Emmerson said.
“Do we know where Tony Gorga and his goons are?” Rhett asked, taking Shelby’s hand. It was a lot for him to take in, so he suspected it was even more for her. His phone buzzed. But it wasn’t a call. It was one of his outside motion detectors. Specifically, the one on his dock. He stole a quick glance. Shit. He needed to open the app.
What struck him as odd was that Miles had texted about ten minutes ago, stating that he’d done a second sweep of the area and had found nothing.
Rhett had told him to hang tight down the street, where he felt there was one weak spot by the golf course. There wasn’t a lot of traffic since it was a dead-end, and anyone could jump the fence. It had been a bone of contention when he bought the house. He’d brought it up with the homeowners’ association and the guardhouse. They’d agreed that it was something they needed to address.
Of course, anyone could access the neighborhood by water.
Which was why he’d added cameras and motion detectors at the dock.
“Tony is in New Jersey, along with most of the big players. They don’t have ties to Mortelli. But if Hector Mortelli thinks Joe Staub has ever done anything to cross another mob family and knows there’s proof… That’s not going to be pretty for Joe. Regardless, this isn’t good for Jackie’s uncle.”
Shelby held up both hands. “What I don’t understand is why my brother would hide this stuff. What do he and Jackie have to gain? All they had to do was give it to the police. I don’t understand why they wanted to keep it from you. Or why they want it kept out of the press. It doesn’t make—” She closed her eyes and let out a long breath before blinking them open. “Someone is threatening them, and they think holding onto that is their ticket to safety.”
“That’s a good bet. The questions are: Who, and why? It seems obvious that Joe wouldn’t want this to be in the cops’ hands. And maybe he’s keeping it from Tony Gorga.” Rhett waited for his app to run live. Sometimes, technology drove him batshit crazy. He texted Miles to return to his house but warned him not to spook whoever was there. He wanted Chris and Jackie to feel as though they had been successful in breaching his security.
“One thing really bothers me about this.” Emmerson held up a document that he’d pulled from the files. “This is the autopsy report for Joe’s brother. Jackie’s father. There is a page missing. The one that gives the cause of death.”
“That’s odd,” Rhett said. “But the medical examiner’s office should have another copy.”
“One would think so,” Emmerson said. “However, I haven’t requested it yet. If this cover-up goes deep—and I suspect it does—and someone was paid off to let Joe Staub go free, there’s a crooked medical examiner, or both…” Emmerson arched a brow. “I’m not ready to tip off anyone in New Jersey that we’re poking around this case yet.”
“That could be smart, but what’s the payoff?” Rhett scrolled through the app. A few blurred images of two people pulling kayaks onto his dock appeared.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Emmerson said. “If Tony Gorga knew about this,”—Emmerson tapped the papers—“then I have to believe he pitted brother against brother and made a promise he never intended to keep. And that he has the last piece of the puzzle.”
“That’s weak,” Rhett said. “My money’s on the idea that Joe used every penny he had to pay off the ME and then hauled ass to Florida. I think we take a chance and reach out to the medical examiner.”
“We can’t. He died in a car crash a month after this report,” Emmerson said. “Drove right into a tree. His brakes failed.”
“That’s fucking suspicious,” Rhett said.
“Agreed, and why I don’t want to call anyone in that office until I have a better understanding and a few more details.” Emmerson nodded. “Look. I’ve got a lot of shit to do with this case before Mom gets back.”
“We’ll get out of your way.” Rhett took Shelby by the hand and led her out of the conference room, down the hall, through the lobby, and outside.
“What’s the rush?” she asked when he opened the Jeep door.
“I think your brother is at my house.” He practically pushed her into the vehicle. “I want to get there before someone else sees him. I want to find out what’s really going on so we can devise a plan before I bring my brother in on this. Because once I do that, some things are out of my hands.” He hoped Chris stayed right where he was for the next fifteen minutes. Or there would be hell to pay.
CHAPTERNINE
Shelby jumped out of the Jeep as soon as it rolled to a stop in Rhett’s driveway.
“Wait,” Rhett called.
No way would she do anything of the sort, not when her brother was somewhere on the property. She pulled on the front door, but it was locked. She raced toward the side of the house, but a strong arm wrapped around her middle. “Let me go!”
“He’s not here,” Rhett whispered softly in her ear. “He was. But he’s gone.”