Ties That Bind Read Free Page A

about Coppell?” he asked, surveying Mitch worriedly. He knew Mitch had hated Coppell. Unlike some of his recruits who often ended up friends with the guys they brought down, Mitch had held nothing but absolute contempt for Coppell and all of his men. He knew Mitch didn’t kill him or even want him dead for that matter, but nearly three years of undercover work had just been obliterated when someone blasted Coppell in the back of the head with a 12 gauge. If he wasn’t upset, he damn sure at least had a right to be pissed.
    “Rather not,” Mitch responded.
    “Then let me tell you about it.” Reaching into his overcoat, Mike pulled out an oversized folded envelope and passed it Mitch's direction. “Shot in the head at close range. Weapon was a 12 gauge Benelli found at the scene.”
    “Registered?”
    “No. But the serial number matches one you reported when you cataloged his weapons on premises six months after you started working for him.”
    “Montefeltro?”
    “Yeah.”
    “It was a 20th anniversary present from his wife,” Mitch provided.
    “No signs of a struggle and all guards were in the other part of the house.”
    “What about Garrison?”  Mitch asked, flipping through the photos.
    “The guard that always stayed with you and Coppell?  He was asleep in his room.”
    “You drug test him?”
    “No. Why would we?”
    “I wasn't there. If I'm not there, Garrison wouldn't leave Jeffrey unguarded. The guy would never have just gone to bed.”
    “Everyone has to sleep.”
    “We don't get a nice eight hours like you, Mike,” Mitch grumbled. “He was drugged. I'll put money on it.”
    “So, you out of the country, second hand drugged and the house is wide open for an attack.”
    “That house is never wide open. I turned it into a fortress.”
    “Yeah, about that. You know the police couldn't even get through your “fortress” to respond to the call?  That was a bitch to try and explain.”
    “Proving my point. The guards would've only gone away if Coppell sent them away.”
    “You're saying Coppell knew the murderer and sent the guards away?” Mike nodded. “It makes sense. Coppell has a meeting he doesn't want anyone-even you- privy to. Something goes wrong and his private meeting turns into a bloodbath.”
    Mitch nodded then paused in his review of the file. “This says two people were noted at the scene.”
    “A man's footprint in Coppell's blood. No lead on the tread just that it was a male. Trace evidence of a female, not enough for DNA matching. It could've been from hours before the murder even. Likely one of his whores.”
    “He didn't have whores,” Mitch cut him off. “He was married.”
    “That doesn't mean-”
    “You automatically assume because he's a mafioso that he's out bedding someone new every night, don't you?” Mitch growled. “I was with him for over three years. Yeah he was a cutthroat business man with a dozen murders to his credit but he was a loyal husband and a damn good father, Mike. Stop with the bureaucratic profiling shit, all right?”
    Mike held his hands up. “Okay, so who then?”
    “Hundreds of possibilities. He has five sisters, two teen daughters and their friends, dozens of female employees with access to his house. Hell, it could be from one of the whores I brought there. Take that back to your profilers, why don't you?”
    “Mitch, come on,” Mike tried. “You are getting emotional over-”
    Mitch yanked one of the photos out of the file and held it up. The gruesome shot was enough to make Mike recoil even though he'd seen it a dozen times already.
    “He died on my watch, Mike. In his pajamas, in his own house where I've spent hours drinking whiskey and shooting the shit with him until dawn. It happened because I wasn't there to prevent it so don't patronize me over how I should be emotionally detached from this because he was a criminal. He didn't deserve this. No one does.”
    “Agreed, but-”
    Mitch waved him off, knowing his