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Chapter 22
Pellini paced near the tree line with his phone to his ear and Sammy trotting happily beside him. Back and forth. Back and forth. Every third round or so, he would pick up a stick and chuck it across the yard without a break in his conversation. Each time, the dog rocketed after the stick, brought it back to drop at Pellini’s feet, and resumed trotting at his side.
Fuzzykins lay draped over the porch railing, regarding the dog with the utmost disdain. Me, I lazed on the back porch and watched the dog and his man, unable to keep from smiling at Sammy’s antics. It was on Pellini to pull strings and get us a copy of the McDunn phone call recording, so all I could do was wait and see. And relax.
After several minutes Pellini clipped his phone to his belt and returned to me with Sammy gallivanting in circles around him. The triumphant smile on his face told me the outcome of his calls. “Man, I had to call in a lot of favors for this one,” he said. “But the guy who has the case is emailing the recording to me right now.”
“Sweet!” I stood and stretched then gave him a rueful smile. “I hate to admit it, but I wasn’t sure you’d be able to pull it off.”
Pellini twitched his shoulders in a shrug. “I have a few connections.”
“As long as it gives us a lead, I don’t care if you sold your soul to the devil.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Pretty sure I did that a long time ago.”
“Dude, I hear you.”
We proceeded inside to the dining room. Pellini retrieved his laptop, flipped it open, then drummed his fingers impatiently as he waited for his email to load. “There it is,” he said. He clicked on the file and adjusted the volume. I pulled up a chair beside his and leaned close to the speaker.
A series of clicks.
“Hello?” Catherine McDunn’s voice.
A pause. Silence.
“Hello?” Catherine again.
A man spoke. “Catherine.”
Her sharp intake of breath. “Angus.”
“Oh god, I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.”
“You’re sorry? And that’s supposed to fix it? How could you do this? To me. To Marcel.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I swear.”
“But it is like this, Angus.” Pain threaded through her words.
“Baby, please.” His breath shuddered. “Please, just hear me out.”
“Why? So you can ask me for money again or something else that puts me in danger?”
“No! God, no, I nev
er wanted you to be in danger. Catherine, I love you.”
Her breath caught in a sob. “I love you too, Angus, which makes all of this hurt so much more. We wouldn’t be in this nightmare if you’d talked to me the first time Macklin asked you to . . . to . . .”
“It killed me not being able to tell you, baby. You have to believe me.”
“I love you. I’ve been here for you. And . . . all those years of lies. How can I believe anything you say now?”
“Dammit. I was trying to protect you and Marcel. I couldn’t tell you.”
“Protect us? From what? It couldn’t be worse than this.”
“Look, baby. I can’t go into that. Even now. All I’m asking is for you to trust that I—”
