Dangerous Stakes

by G. K. Parks

  “Which is?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth.”

  “Fine. Any idea why Fox and Emilio just happened to show up at this particular bar tonight?”

  “Why don’t you ask them?”

  I turned to leave.

  “Liv,” she whined, “what about my money?”

  “You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.”

  Her fake nails clawed at my shoulder, and I spun around to face her. “Axel is in this for the thrills. Cars. No cars. It doesn’t matter. The danger gets him off. His clients are the same way. He understands their desires and capitalizes on them. He likes to call it the Vegas experience. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

  “I need to know where he’s been for the last few hours.”

  She flinched, casting her gaze to the sidewalk. “I can’t help you with that.”

  “Someone got killed. Do you think he’d cross that line?”

  “Who?” The disbelief shone in her eyes.

  “A parking attendant.”

  She swallowed. “Axel and his crew don’t pop people without provocation. Assuming this has to do with the cars you keep harping on, I’d say you’re barking up the wrong tree. You need to leave this alone. I bet those pricks can afford new rides anyway.”

  I looked at her. She knew a lot more than she was letting on. “Who would do something like this?”

  “I’ll ask around, but I can’t make no promises. And you owe me.”

  I pulled out the envelope and peeled off a stack of twenties. “Half now. The rest when you get a name. Text me when you know something.”

  “Yep.”

  I gave her one last look. “Stay safe.” I gestured at her eye. “You need help, there’s an ER nurse, Emma, she’ll take care of you. Remember that, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Without anything solid to work with, I headed back to the bar, but before I could get more than a few feet away, Becca cleared her throat.

  “Be mindful of the company you keep. You know what they say about lying down with dogs.”

  “Does someone have a bone to pick with me?” I inquired, turning and walking backward, still intent on my destination.

  “Just be careful out there. These streets aren’t safe for a tasty thing like you.”

  As I trudged back to the bar, I couldn’t help but think they weren’t safe for anyone.

  Four

  I ordered a beer and took a seat in the corner. Emilio spotted me and jerked his chin up in greeting. I returned the gesture and waited. After they finished their game, he and Fox sauntered over to my corner of the bar. Emilio sat beside me, but Fox remained standing.

  “What’s going on at Spark?” I asked. “The place looked shut down. I was forced to come here. Apparently, so were you two.”

  “Axel closed up early,” Fox said. “Family emergency.”

  “I thought you guys were his family.”

  Emilio shrugged and gestured to the bartender who filled a few shots and put them on the bar in front of us. “Drink up, chica. It’s on me.”

  “Thanks.” I tossed one back. Drinking on the job wasn’t exactly SOP, but as a UC, I had special clearance. However, this was the last thing I wanted to be doing right now.

  Emilio put his hand on my stool and dragged me closer to him. He put his arm around my waist and rubbed his thumb against my thigh. “I saw you leave with that whore a few minutes ago.”

  “You got something against whores?” I asked.

  “If he did, he’d have to stop talking to his mama,” Fox quipped. He ignored Emilio’s protests. His razor-sharp gaze remained focused on me. “You turning tricks too?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What exactly?” Fox leaned across the bar, effectively pinning me between him and Emilio.

  “Dude,” I gave him a look, “are you shitting me right now?”

  “Answer the question.”

  I let out an exaggerated huff and slowly reached into my jacket for the envelope of cash. “I had something she needed.”

  He thumbed through the cash. “You dealing?”

  “Hey, I can’t help it if some Wall Street guy left an eight ball as a tip.” I snickered and stuffed the envelope back into my jacket. “Actually, you wouldn’t believe how many times that happens.”

  “I know,” Emilio said, earning himself a searing look from Fox.

  “Anyway, I’m not much of a partier, but I could use a few extra bucks. Becca is a friend of a friend, so I hook her up from time to time.” I narrowed my eyes. “Am I stepping on your toes? I didn’t realize this was your turf.”

  Fox straightened. “Does Axel know about this?”

  “What?”

  “That someone’s bringing drugs into the club?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The next time it happens, you better notify security.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I blinked. “Am I in trouble?”

  Fox narrowed his eyes, growing bored with me and the conversation. “That’s not up to me.”

  “Leave her alone,” Emilio said. “She didn’t bring them into Spark. She just moved them out of there.” Fox gave him an intense look, but Emilio ignored it and pawed at my leg more enthusiastically than Gunnie begging for scraps. “Olivia’s clean. She’s not like Candi.”

  Fox ignored us and ordered another drink.

  As usual, I let Axel’s guys hang all over me. So far, no one had tried to cross the line, but I had a feeling it was because Axel kept them in check. Tonight, he wasn’t around, and I wondered how far things would progress.

  Since Emilio was buying, Fox ordered more shots, and I kept sliding the glasses over to Emilio, who had no problem putting one away after another. I let my head rest on his shoulder in a friendly, familiar gesture. These were my people too. I was one of them. At least, I hoped they believed it.

  An uneasy twinge remained in my gut. I should be doing something useful, and tonight, I hadn’t gotten even the slightest bit of usable intel from my CI or the two members of Axel’s crew. Frankly, I still wasn’t certain I hadn’t been made. And that worried me.

  Fox’s phone buzzed, and I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was too focused on replying to notice I was paying attention. If I squinted, I could make out two of the words. Deal’s done. Clumsily, I reached across the bar for a napkin, bumping a cup with ice and knocking it over.

  “I’m sorry.” I reached for more napkins.

  Fox put his phone on top of the bar and grabbed the now empty glass, shoving the dropped cubes back inside while I wiped up the water with a napkin. My eyes went to his phone’s screen. Five cars.

  Five? We only knew about two.

  Fox saw me looking at his phone and put it in his pocket.

  “Did it get wet?” I asked.

  “It’s fine.” He glared at Emilio who was humming to himself. Whenever he got really drunk, he’d sing in Spanish. Based on the level of his humming, he was one drink away from impersonating Enrique Iglesias. “Yo,” he said, peeling Emilio’s arm off my leg, “we gotta go.”

  “Huh?” Emilio asked. He blinked a few times and looked around. “Yeah, okay.” He gave my cheek a sloppy kiss. “See you tomorrow at Spark.”

  “You can count on it.” My eyes met Fox’s. “Sorry about your phone.”

  He grunted and dragged Emilio out of the bar. I remained where I was, using the mirrors to make sure they left. Then I ordered a club soda and studied the regulars. No one stood out, and I didn’t see any other members of Axel’s crew anywhere.

  When I finished my soda, I grabbed my purse and went into the ladies’ room. For a dive bar, it actually had a large bathroom. The door swung shut, and I checked underneath the stalls to make sure the room was empty. I wiped off the counter and put my purse down.

  Five cars. Was that their endgame? Or was that the number of high-end rides they’d already boosted? I’d have to do some more asking but not tonight. I was out
of contacts and luck.

  I sent a text to Brad. The police needed to be aware three more thefts were imminent. Hopefully, we already filled our quota for murder this evening. I didn’t think Brad or I could take another loss, especially when my entire assignment was intended to prevent such things from happening.

  Get back here if you can, Brad replied.

  I told him I was on my way and slipped out of the restroom. No one noticed when I left the bar or walked a block to my bike. After returning to my cover apartment, I traded my bike for a late model sedan and checked my mirrors. No one was around. It was nearly midnight, and the streets were practically empty. Still, I was careful and meandered aimlessly, checking for tails.

  When I was sure it was safe, I headed for the station, but I couldn’t help but notice the one glaringly obvious discrepancy. Becca said Axel’s crew wasn’t involved in the murder or the recent thefts, but Fox’s phone said otherwise.

  Inevitably, this investigation would have to be left to the men in uniform. I couldn’t risk blowing my cover, and until I was positive Axel’s inner circle was involved, we couldn’t rule out other possibilities. Whoever did this was ballsy and stupid. And I just spent the last two hours in a bar with Ballsy and Stupid.

  Five

  He watched her leave the bar. She was careful. She looked around, practically jumping at shadows. He admired the tight leather pants she wore and the way they accentuated the curve of her ass. The leather jacket and crop top were a nice touch. The silky skin of her bared stomach glowed in the streetlight just before she zipped the jacket and reached for her helmet.

  She had no idea he was watching her tonight, unlike most nights where he ogled her without hesitation as she moved through Spark or remained locked in a cage. She’d smile at him on occasion and ask if he needed anything. She was clueless, which made it all the more entertaining for him since he knew exactly who she was and why she was there.

  You can’t fool me, Detective DeMarco, he thought. Truth be told, he liked her best in the cage. On those nights, he’d smile back, wondering if she realized she was trapped.

  He could end this now. Make it look like an accident. No one else knew she was a cop or knew of the investigation. But he did. He knew the real reason she met with the traitorous whore. She wanted information on him. But she wouldn’t get it. He’d make sure of that.

  The motorcycle sped off in the direction of her apartment, and he turned the key in the ignition. There was no need to rush. He knew where she was going.

  He arrived several minutes after she did and found a parking space a few blocks away and waited to see what she’d do now. Maybe she’d give up. It was late. Perhaps she’d call it quits for the night.

  He could probably sneak upstairs and knock on her door. When she answered, he would kill her. But that would end the game too quickly. He exhaled, replaying the memory from earlier. He could still feel the weight of the gun in his hand. The sound of the blast. The blood blossoming.

  His gaze went to the center console. He should lose the gun. He already unloaded the cars, preparing them for shipment. But it served as a reminder, a way to relive those few, precious moments. He’d dump it in a few days. Keeping it posed a danger, which excited him, but it was more a perceived risk than an actual risk since the police were clueless. It wasn’t a real concern, which meant he could revel in the memory a little while longer.

  A minute later, DeMarco left the apartment building and performed another visual sweep before setting off in the opposite direction, toward the sedan she parked a few streets over. He blew out a breath and watched as she started the car. He’d bide his time and see where the investigation led before deciding if he needed to strike.

  * * *

  “Earth to DeMarco,” my partner waved the USB in front of my face, “I got the security footage from the hotel.”

  “Thanks.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to save me some time and tell me what’s on it?”

  “You were right. The white SUV was staking out the place. Whoever killed the parking attendant planned every move.”

  “Do you think the murder was premeditated?”

  Fennel bit his lip. “I don’t know.”

  “That should be our new catchphrase.”

  “I was hoping for ‘gotcha suckas,’ but we’ll keep it in mind.” He tossed the USB to me. “Premeditated would mean Mr. Rodriguez was the target, not the Ferrari or the McLaren. I’m not sure that tracks.”

  I clicked a few keys and rubbed my eyes, wiping the greasy smear of eyeliner off my fingertips and onto my jeans. By now, I should be used to the clown makeup, but I wasn’t. Normally, I would have changed before coming to work, but I didn’t want to waste time when another heist might be imminent. It was bad enough I spent an extra thirty minutes driving in circles.

  “Rodriguez is clean. No criminal record. No outstanding debt.” I scrolled through the details. “Has next of kin been notified?”

  “His family lives in Florida. They’re catching a flight in the morning.”

  “What about his apartment?”

  “Uniforms went to check it out. Rodriguez lived alone. Nothing inside indicated he had enemies, but uniforms are performing a canvass just to make sure we aren’t missing something.” I opened my mouth to ask another question, and Brad narrowed his eyes at me. “Save your breath. His coworkers don’t know anything either.”

  “About why someone would want to kill him or about the recent string of GTAs?”

  “Either.” He grabbed a tissue and handed it to me. “You look like a raccoon.”

  “Don’t you like raccoons?”

  “The notorious burglars of the animal kingdom? Not really.”

  “Damn, that’s another big word.” I dabbed at my eyes, catching his amused smile.

  “You know, you don’t have to do that. I’m okay,” he insisted.

  “You sure?”

  He nodded tightly, his gaze shifting around the room to make sure no one was paying attention. “You don’t have to keep me entertained or distracted. I’m not going to fall down the rabbit hole, at least not tonight.”

  “Maybe I just like busting your balls. I barely get to see you anymore, so I have to condense my jabs when I get the chance.” I winked. “That’s what partners are for.”

  “Just remember, payback’s a bitch.”

  His words triggered a thought, and I clicked a few more keys. “Brad, you’re a genius.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He leaned back in his chair. “What did you find?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “No wonder we’re partnered together. They needed my brain to make up for your lack of smarts.”

  “That must mean I’m the good-looking one.”

  “I’m not saying a word. That’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen.”

  “Damn, you really are the brains of this operation.”

  He came around the desk to see what I was doing. “You think the owners were targeted rather than the vehicles?”

  “Becca said they could afford new rides. It might have been an off the cuff comment, but I don’t know.” I continued searching news articles and social media for anyone who might hold a grudge against the car owners.

  Since the owners were wealthy tycoons with companies and foundations which controlled a good portion of buildings and businesses in the city, it didn’t seem that farfetched. Then again, killing a working-class guy while stealing fancy cars didn’t exactly jibe with that theory.

  “Did the killer steal anything else from Mr. Rodriguez besides his wallet, cell phone, and car keys?” I asked, my eyes never leaving the screen.

  “The techs made a list of items based on the footage from the security feed. Let me grab it.” Brad returned a second later. “Four sets of keys. A cell phone. Wallet. And a black card case.”

  Brad plugged the USB into his computer while I scribbled down a list of potential grudge-holders we needed to question. He paused the screen, and we switched pla
ces. I stared at the monitor, seeing the pool of blood beneath the body. Closing my eyes, I said a silent prayer this wouldn’t happen again.

  Filled with a newfound resolve, I zoomed in and stared at the item. “I don’t think that’s a case. It’s too flat. It looks like a card. Maybe a keycard.”

  “To what?”

  “I don’t know. Check with the hotel.”

  “Already on it.” When Brad hung up the phone, he smiled. “You were right. Some hotel staff are issued master keycards for the hotel entrances and maintenance facilities. They’re solid black, and it isn’t listed in the items we recovered. The killer took it.”

  “He must have had a reason.” I just didn’t know what it was.

  “It looks like a mugging. Maybe he thought it was a credit card or a card case, like we initially believed.”

  “Or he knew exactly what it was and has other plans in mind.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to clear the million thoughts racing through my brain. Five cars. That’s what the text on Fox’s phone said.

  “Were the owners staying at the hotel?” I asked, frantically flipping pages and getting annoyed because Fennel kept his desk alphabetized instead of stacked in the order information came in. “How do you find anything?”

  “Get up.”

  We switched desks, and I continued perusing the webpages I had read earlier. The car owners lived locally but were at the hotel to attend a charity function. The hotel didn’t have a room reservation for Mr. Stevens, but they did have a reservation for Mr. Hart. Nixing the theory that the murderous car thief planned to sneak inside the hotel and retarget Hart and Stevens, I went back to researching possible enemies the two men had in common.

  “Has anyone spoken to Hart or Stevens yet?” I asked.

  “Briefly. They’re coming in tomorrow afternoon to give official statements.”

  “We don’t have time for this.” I swore. “Where are we on traffic cam footage? Any sightings?”

  “The department set up a tip line. We issued a statement during the eleven o’clock news.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and blew out a breath. “Look, we’ll figure it out, but it’s late. There’s nothing left for us to do tonight. Go home. Get some sleep, and we’ll start fresh in the morning.”