Ghostly Serenade

by Colleen Helme

  I glanced down the hallway, only to find it empty. Where was Ramos? I looked back the other way, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Dread turned my stomach. Maybe he’d gone back to the car for something. But would he just leave me like that? It didn’t seem possible, unless he was chasing someone.

  I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. Where are you? I waited for a response, but nothing came. I knew Hawk would be coming out of his apartment at any moment. Unsure of what to do, I pushed the call button on the elevator. It opened right up.

  A man stood inside. He moved to the side to make room for me. I hesitated long enough that the doors started to close. He quickly put his arm out to stop them. “Are you getting on?” he asked.

  I listened real close. He wasn’t thinking about killing me. Still, I wasn’t about to get on the elevator with a stranger. “Uh… no… I’m waiting for someone.”

  His brows drew together, and he glanced at the man behind me, wondering if that was the person I was waiting for. I let out a yelp and jumped onto the elevator. As the doors slid shut, Ramos stuck his leg inside and forced the doors back open.

  “Oh… it’s you. Sorry.”

  Ramos shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He stood between me and the man, who immediately plastered himself against the side of the elevator. In his mind, Ramos asked me if the guy was someone to worry about.

  I listened to the man’s thoughts again. He thought Ramos was scary, and he didn’t like standing so close to him. He wondered who Ramos was and thought I was nuts to be with someone so dangerous looking.

  I smiled and met Ramos’s gaze, then shook my head. He sent me a nod, just as the elevator doors opened on the second floor. Another man waited to get on. He lowered his gaze and stepped inside. A tense silence encased us until the doors opened into the lobby. Both men hurried out, glad to be away from Ramos.

  That brought another smile to my lips, and I followed Ramos to the outer doors, happy he was on my side. After a quick glance around, Ramos motioned me out. We walked side-by-side toward our car.

  Nearly there, I wobbled on the uneven sidewalk, and my purse fell from my shoulder. As I leaned over to pick it up, a sharp buzz whizzed over my head and struck the car window, shattering it into a million pieces.

  “Get down.” Ramos pushed my head down and moved to cover my body with his. Another bullet whizzed by, hitting the side of the car. Thinking that the shots were coming from one of the nearby buildings, he grabbed me around the waist and stepped to a wide tree trunk a few feet away.

  Another bullet hit the tree, and I cowered against Ramos. A moment passed, and then another, without anything more happening. Ramos thought the assassin would move to a different location for a better shot or, more likely, he’d come after us.

  “We need to get out of here,” Ramos said.

  I glanced at our car, shocked to see that the front tires had both been slashed. Ramos noticed it too and swore under his breath. “Stay down and keep close.”

  With his arm around my waist, Ramos held me against him and began to run. On shaking legs, I tried to keep up with him. He took my weight until I got my feet under me, and we both ran up the block. He grabbed my hand and slowed to cross the street.

  On the other side, we kept up a fast walk for a couple of blocks. Soon, I was out of breath. Ramos stopped, giving me a chance to recover, while he looked behind for signs of pursuit. I leaned over my knees for a few seconds before Ramos took my hand and pulled me along.

  “Can you hear him? Is he behind us?” Ramos asked, hoping the threat was over.

  I listened real close to the people around me. Most of them were intent on getting where they were going and could care less about us. “Nothing yet.” I stretched my mind further and found a man thinking that I had nine lives, but he couldn’t let me get away this time. If he wanted the rest of the money, he had to finish this now.

  “Crap. He’s behind us. And he wants to end this. What should we do?”

  Ramos glanced at the street ahead of us and noticed a small garden area that had a fence around it. As we reached it, he pulled me inside. We ran into the middle of the enclosure, looking for the path that led through to the other side of the block.

  Finding our way obstructed, we doubled back to start down a different path. Before we could make it to the other side, I heard the assassin’s thoughts and knew he had entered the garden. “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of here,” I whispered. “He just came inside.”

  Ramos pulled me behind a row of bushes, and we crouched to wait. He was thinking that I needed to stay quiet and nudge him when the assassin got close. I nodded, realizing that our attacker had slowed. I picked up that he hadn’t seen us leave out the other side, so he knew we were still there, probably hiding behind the bushes to his right. He held his gun up, ready to shoot.

  My heart thudded. That’s right where we were.

  Ramos heard his steps coming closer and readied himself to lunge. As the man stepped into view, Ramos burst into action. With a quick thrust, he knocked the gun from the man’s hand, then followed with an upper jab to his throat.

  The assassin stepped back, blocking Ramos’s thrust, and sent a jumping kick toward Ramos’s head. Ramos blocked the kick with his arm and grabbed the man’s leg to shove him back. The assassin rolled with the momentum and regained his footing. Ramos attacked again. The assassin blocked him, throwing several jabs into Ramos’s stomach and back.

  I cringed, worried that Ramos couldn’t take such a beating. It had only been a month since he’d nearly died from a gunshot wound to his chest. Frantic, I searched the area for the attacker’s gun but couldn’t see it anywhere.

  The man didn’t let up on his attack, pushing Ramos back and hitting him several times in the chest. The barrage was too much. With a grunt of pain, Ramos fell to his knees.

  “No.” I gasped, ready to run to his side. Before I could move, the assassin turned his attention to me and pulled out his knife. He lunged at me, but my Aikido training kicked in, and I twisted out of his reach. He attacked again, and I stepped toward him. I grabbed his wrist and twisted, causing him to release the knife. I continued the motion, and he fell to his knees.

  He hadn’t expected that from me, but he quickly recovered and rolled out of my hold. I lunged for the knife, but he grabbed my injured arm and squeezed hard around my stitches. I let out a yelp and jammed my other elbow into his stomach as hard as I could. His grip loosened, and I yanked my arm away with a twist. Pain blossomed in my shoulder, but he let me go and went for the knife.

  Breathless with pain, fear burned in my chest, and I wasn’t sure I could keep him from killing me.

  As he picked up the knife, Ramos stepped in front of me, gently pushing me behind him. He stood firm, and I picked up his raging desire to beat this guy to a pulp. The assassin lunged, sweeping his knife toward Ramos’s chest. Ramos dodged the jab, taking the man’s arm and twisting it to break his hold on the knife. As the knife fell, Ramos followed through by launching the assassin over his shoulder.

  Grunting, the man rolled away, reaching for the knife. He picked it up before Ramos could stop him. Instead of attacking Ramos with it, he threw the knife straight at me. I picked up his intention a split second before he threw it. With a quick jerk, I fell to my side, landing on my injured arm. The knife sailed through the air, just inches from my head, clattering somewhere behind me.

  Furious, Ramos attacked the man from behind. He fell to his knees but managed to twist out of Ramos’s reach. The assassin pulled a smaller knife from a pocket. It fit in his fist, with the blade between his fingers, and I didn’t know if Ramos could see it. Determination to slice through Ramos’s throat before he knew what hit him turned the man’s face into a mask of cold calculation.

  “He’s got another knife.” My voice sounded weak and shaky, but Ramos heard me.

  As the assassin attacked, Ramos feinted to the side and used the man’s momentum to throw him to the ground. Be
fore he could get to his feet, Ramos stomped on his fist. The assassin yelped and released the knife. Ramos kicked the blade away before he could reach for it. As the assassin rolled to his feet, Ramos followed him, landing a hard punch to his jaw before he could rise.

  The man’s head snapped back, and he fell to the ground. Ramos stepped close to take him out, but the assassin rolled out of his way and got to his feet. Blood ran from his mouth and down his face from a cut over his eyebrow. Ramos advanced, ready to finish it.

  The assassin glanced my way, thinking he’d have to try again later. With a glare at me, he cut his losses and ran. Ramos started after him, but thought better of it and came to my side.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I rose to my feet on shaking legs. Pain radiated from my shoulder and arm. I gently touched the bandage, and my fingers come away bloody.

  “Hold on,” Ramos said. “Let me take a look.” He didn’t want me to see it, knowing how queasy the sight of blood made me. “It’s not bleeding much, but the bandage is soaked. We’ll have to change it as soon as we get back.”

  “Do you think I tore the stitches?”

  “I hope not. I’m calling Manetto. Why don’t you sit down on the bench here?” He helped me to the bench and pulled out his phone. After a brief conversation, Ramos hung up. Then he dug around in the bushes and found the assassin’s gun. He pocketed it and sat beside me, thinking that had been closer than he liked.

  He’d never been happier for my training after he’d gone down from that strike to his chest. Since he wasn’t back to one hundred percent, the guy had gotten the best of him and then come after me. I’d faced him like a pro, and he was proud of me; but it never should have happened, and he felt bad he’d let me down. Too bad the bastard had gotten away.

  “You didn’t let me down,” I said. “You saved me.” Since he wasn’t going to take my word for it, I changed the subject. “How do you think he found us?”

  “He must have been watching the detective’s place in case you showed up. I don’t think anyone followed us from the cleaners.”

  “Let’s hope not, because, if they did, they’d know that we met with Tony, and they’d put it together that he’s working for us.”

  “Yeah. That could be bad,” Ramos agreed, hoping Tony could tell us who put the hit on me before that happened, since the Bilottis would probably kill him.

  “Seriously? They can’t do that,” I said. “The police need to arrest him for the murders first. Maybe I should go with Hawk tonight after all.”

  “Absolutely not.” Ramos caught my gaze. “You’re already in enough trouble with Manetto as it is.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I said that to appease Ramos. But I wasn’t about to commit to anything right now. So much of this working out hinged on Hawk and the police. I wasn’t sure they could take care of it without my help.

  Ramos’s phone buzzed with a text. “Flint’s here. Let’s go.” I slowly stood, holding my elbow and making sure I didn’t faint or anything. With Ramos to steady me, I made it all the way to the car in one piece. Go me.

  I slid into the back seat, surprised to find Uncle Joey in the front passenger seat. Ramos slid in beside me and shut the door.

  “What the hell happened?” Uncle Joey asked.

  Ramos told him the story, and I was happy to let him. That way I didn’t have to explain what Hawk and I had talked about. My arm was still throbbing, and I made the mistake of taking a look at the bandage. Blood had begun to seep out of the edges and trail down my elbow.

  “Does anyone have a tissue or a paper towel or something?” I held my elbow up so it wouldn’t drip on the seat. “I’m bleeding here.”

  “In the glovebox,” Flint said.

  Uncle Joey grabbed the package and handed it to Ramos. He pulled out several tissues and handed them to me. I promptly applied them to my arm. Then I got a couple more to wipe the blood from my elbow and the seat.

  Since it was my left arm, Ramos couldn’t see what was going on, but he still worried that I might faint.

  “I’m not going to faint,” I said. “But I might need to have this looked at. Can we stop at an urgent-care or something? My stitches might have torn, and I think I hurt my shoulder.”

  “I know somebody,” Flint said. “It might be better to keep this under the radar.” He was thinking that we didn’t want the police involved, and explaining what had happened might raise some eyebrows.

  “Good idea,” Uncle Joey said. “This person is discreet?”

  “Of course,” Flint said. “His prices are pretty reasonable, too. As long as you pay in cash.”

  “That’s fine. Take us there.”

  Flint made the course correction, and I picked up that he was taking us to a doctor’s office. I let out a relieved breath, grateful to know he was a real doctor and not some imposter. Flint pulled behind an urgent care facility. After parking, he put in a call to his friend and told him we were waiting outside and we had cash.

  Mentioning the cash seemed to do the trick, and the doctor told us to come in. We entered the building through a side door, where a doctor in a white jacket waited. He ushered us into an exam room and got to work taking off the bandages.

  “It looks like several of the stitches have torn through the skin,” he said.

  “That’s…” I paused, hearing a strangled warning from Uncle Joey, and realized the doctor hadn’t said a word. “Uh… that’s a nice picture on the wall.”

  The doctor’s brows drew together, and he glanced at the wall, thinking that the stock photo of a potted plant wasn’t anything to get excited about. But he cut me some slack, thinking that I was probably in a lot of trouble if I was with Flint and his intimidating friends.

  After that, I kept my mouth shut and only groaned or gasped a few times. Luckily, Ramos offered me his hand, and I happily squeezed it during the ordeal. The doctor examined my shoulder and pronounced that I had probably strained it, but he didn’t think I needed more than rest and time for it to get better.

  He threw in a sling for my arm and told me to be more careful. Finally finished, Uncle Joey paid the guy a few hundred dollars in cash, and we left the same way we’d come in.

  In the car, I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. Uncle Joey told Flint to take us back to the hotel, and I exhaled with relief. This whole day had exhausted me, and I was ready for a break. Plus, I wanted to spend some time with my family. Nearly getting killed made me want to hold onto them for a while.

  Something in Uncle Joey’s mind caught my attention, and I listened with concern, picking up that, with me safe at the hotel, he could finally concentrate on putting an end to Milo.

  He was done playing this game. Milo had crossed a line. Now it was back to basics, and Milo was going to pay for everything he’d ever done to the Manettos, especially if that included murdering his grandparents. He’d tried this the diplomatic way, hoping to escape bloodshed, but Milo didn’t get it.

  A plan began to form in his mind. He just needed to put all the moves together in the right order. It reminded him of a chess match. Milo might think he’d pushed Uncle Joey into a corner, but he had no idea who he was dealing with. And, one way or the other, everyone in the Bilotti organization was going to pay for his mistake.

  I jerked upright and caught my breath. Ramos glanced my way, his brows drawn together, wondering what was wrong. Uncle Joey swore in his mind, knowing I’d heard his thoughts. He didn’t turn around, but he was thinking that I needed to mind my own business. Then his mind closed off, and I couldn’t hear a thing.

  I swallowed, knowing I was in big trouble. But I couldn’t let him kill Milo now that Hawk knew everything. It meant I’d have to tell him that I’d spilled the beans to Hawk. After defying him earlier, I was pretty sure it might push him over the edge. Maybe I could just tell him to wait to kill Milo until tomorrow? That way I wouldn’t have to tell him about Hawk until he was in a better mood.

  From the th
underous tilt of his dark eyebrows, I figured that discretion was the better part of valor… for now.

  CHAPTER 13

  Flint pulled up in front of the hotel, and the doorman hurried to open Uncle Joey’s door. One other man also stood outside the doors to the hotel, watching the street for an attack, just like a secret service agent.

  Giving the all clear to the doorman, he escorted Uncle Joey into the hotel. Ramos opened his door and stood by while I got out of the car. Hovering over me, he rushed me inside where it was safe. Just a few hours ago, I would have thought it was a bit much, but now I was grateful.

  “I’m going to my room,” I told Uncle Joey. “But, before I go, I have a request.” My stomach lurched, and I tried to keep my nerves from showing.

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Can you wait to kill Milo until tomorrow?” As his brows rose, I continued. “I just think it’s a good idea to give the police a chance to get him tonight. If they don’t… well… then you can do what you need to do.” At his stony expression, I added, “Please?”

  He let out a breath, thinking it was hard to be a tough guy when I begged him like that. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay… thanks.”

  “Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”

  “Okay. Call me if you need me.”

  He absently nodded and motioned for Ramos to follow him into Frank’s office, his mind feverishly plotting Milo Bilotti’s demise.

  I let out a sigh, knowing I’d done what I could, and headed to the elevator. If Uncle Joey wasn’t going to wait, maybe I should help Hawk and the police tonight. They would have a better chance if I was there, and it might be the only way to make sure they succeeded.