by G. K. Parks
“Selling coke and getting felt up by Emilio. Real exciting. Damn, I could be the inspiration for a comedy movie or a murder mystery.” I stared at him, gauging his reaction.
Axel’s face dropped, and his eyes darkened. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I didn’t say—”
“I’ll take care of it.” Leaving no room for protest, he slid off the couch and poured the rest of the bottle of water into my glass. “Let me make a call.”
My phone was in my locker. I couldn’t exactly send a message to the boys outside. What the hell was Axel about to do? Regardless, we had eyes on him. And an eyewitness – me. If something happened to Emilio, he wouldn’t be able to deny it. Maybe this was for the best.
Axel hit a button and went into the back room, closing the door. I couldn’t hear his words, and I didn’t dare move closer. Finally, he returned to the main room, tucked the phone away, and went behind the bar to pour himself a drink. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in anything harder?” His lip twitched slightly.
“I should get going. Thanks for the foot rub.” I picked up my glass and returned it to the kitchen and grabbed my shoes. I was halfway to the locker room when I heard the pounding at the front door and the announcement.
Nine
“Police. Open up.”
Axel snorted and looked straight at me. “See what I mean?” He disengaged the security system and opened the door. “Gentlemen, we’re closed. If you were hoping for a drink, you’ll have to come back another night.”
“Cut the crap.” Detective Fennel looked past Kincaid and into the club. “I have a few questions about some of your members. May I come in?”
Kincaid stepped back, allowing the police to enter. Fennel pushed his way inside and glanced around, spotting me frozen between the bar and rear hallway. “Anyone else here?”
“I don’t believe so.” Kincaid sauntered back to the bar and picked up his drink. He took a sip and rested his elbow against the shiny surface. His eyes remained on my partner.
“Who the hell is she?” Fennel asked, jerking his chin at me. He scoffed at the silk robe. “Did we interrupt something?”
“Mind telling me why you’re here, Detective?” Kincaid asked, his voice adopting an edge.
“Do you know an Eric Hart or Lawrence Stevens?” Fennel asked.
“You know I do.” Kincaid glanced at me. “Go get changed and go home, Liv.”
“Ma’am, stay right there,” one of the uniforms said.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Kincaid rubbed his eyes. “It’s late. I’m in no mood for games. Just tell me what this is about. And leave my waitress out of it.”
“Waitress, huh? That wouldn’t have been my first guess.” Fennel made a show of looking at his notepad. “Have you seen the news lately, Mr. Kincaid? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the stolen sports cars, would you?”
“No.”
“Your juvie record says otherwise.”
“Those records are sealed,” Kincaid hissed. “I’m a legitimate businessman. And your accusation sounds like slander.”
“I apologize,” Fennel said sarcastically. “Since Mr. Hart and Mr. Stevens are members of your club, I was just wondering if you noticed anyone paying attention to them or their vehicles. Perhaps there was an altercation or a disagreement, or someone expressed an interest in the cars?”
“Not that I recall.”
“It’s a private club. Members only.” Fennel looked up from his notepad and surveyed the room, which looked a lot different with the lights on. “We could really use a list of names.”
“Not without a court order. My client list is confidential.”
“What kinds of things go on here?”
Axel let out a growl. “I doubt you’ll ever find out. Civil servants can’t afford my membership fees.”
Fennel pointed the end of his pen at me. “You said she’s a waitress. What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Liv,” I swallowed, “Olivia Bell.”
“Have you ever served Mr. Hart or Mr. Stevens?”
“I don’t know the guests by name,” I said.
“Leave her alone.” Axel’s reaction seemed genuine, and I hoped that meant my cover remained intact.
“Maybe this will help.” Fennel reached into his pocket and removed photos of Hart, Stevens, and their stolen cars. “Recognize them or their rides?” He made a show of looking me up and down. “Maybe you let one of them take you for a ride.”
“That is enough,” Axel said.
“Then why is she dressed like that?” Fennel asked.
“We were short-staffed, so Liv was gracious enough to fill in for one of the dancers.” Axel finished his drink and put it down on the bar. He crossed to the cage. “She dances in here. Fully clothed. Do you want to check my permits or security footage?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.” Fennel nodded to one of the uniforms to get on that.
“Then get a warrant. I run a tight ship, Detective. It’s a shame something happened to Mr. Hart and Mr. Stevens’ cars, but it didn’t happen here. So what do you really want to ask me?”
Fennel licked his lips. “Just following up on a lead, and you’re the common denominator.” Fennel flipped to another page. “Would you mind telling me where you were yesterday around seven?”
Axel poured another drink, holding the bottle toward Brad. “Oh, right. You’re on duty.”
“Sir, please answer the question.”
I stared at my partner, seeing his gaze shift to the bottle for a millisecond. Hopefully, Axel didn’t notice. I was probably the only one who would.
“I was here,” Kincaid insisted.
“What about between the hours of midnight and four a.m.?” Brad wheedled.
“Still here.” Axel forced a calm friendliness into his voice.
“Do you know this woman?” Fennel handed him a photo of Rebecca Johnson. Axel glanced at it but didn’t react. “What about you?” Brad turned the photo in my direction.
“Um…” I sputtered, wondering what my partner hoped to gain by questioning me.
But as usual, Brad knew precisely what he was doing. My flustered response caused Axel to intervene.
“Let me see that again.” Kincaid took the photo from Fennel and studied it. His expression was unreadable. He might as well have been reading the classifieds. “I don’t know her. Maybe I’ve seen her, but I can’t say for certain. She looks like trouble, and as a rule, I avoid trouble.”
“Of course, you do.” Fennel looked around the empty club. “You mind if I look around?”
“I do.”
“I thought you said you didn’t have anything to hide.”
“I don’t, but it’s late. Now please leave.”
“We’re not through yet,” Brad said.
Axel picked up his phone. “In that case, I’m calling my attorney.”
“You’re well within your right to contact counsel, Mr. Kincaid, but if you do that, I’ll have to make this official. Is that what you want? Right now, we’re just two guys having a conversation. As soon as you account for your whereabouts yesterday and provide someone who can verify them, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I was here all night. I even slept upstairs.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?” Fennel asked.
“My investors.” Kincaid chuckled and toasted in my direction. “And Liv.”
“You were here last night, ma’am?” Brad asked.
“Briefly,” I said, wondering if Kincaid expected me to lie for him. Was this another test? “I stopped by around nine or ten.” I looked to Axel for verification, and he nodded. “I left my wallet here. So I called Axel’s office. He said there was a private event.”
“A business meeting. I can get you names,” Kincaid offered.
“Did you actually see Mr. Kincaid?” Brad asked, even though he knew the truth. But we were doing our best to role-play.
“No, she didn’t,” Axel said before I could answer.
“Take down her information in case we have any other questions, and I will take that list of names.” Fennel handed Kincaid a sheet of paper and a pen.
“On second thought, bite me.”
“You really want to do it the hard way?” Fennel asked.
Axel snickered. “Do you?”
“Ma’am,” one of the officers said, holding out his pen, “your information.”
I eyed Axel, as if asking permission, and he nodded. I wrote down my cover details, wondering if the uniform was aware of the ruse or if Fennel kept him in the dark.
Fennel eyed me again. “Put on some clothes and get out of here.”
“Finally,” I muttered, exasperated.
I went to the locker room and changed into my clothes and put my leather jacket on. When I returned to the main room, Kincaid wore a matching set of bracelets. My partner must have found something because arresting Kincaid prematurely would not work in our favor.
“Axel?” I asked, making sure I kept my eyes focused on him.
“It’s okay, Liv. Be careful going home. The crazies are out, and clearly, we can’t depend on the cops to keep people safe.”
“Go on, ma’am,” one of the uniforms said, opening the door to the club.
As I climbed onto my bike, I turned and caught one last glimpse of the men as Kincaid was loaded into the back of a squad car.
Ten
After Kincaid was carted off, I returned to the apartment, the status of my cover precarious. I wanted to go to the station, but Kincaid was there. Soon, his lawyer would be and possibly his crew. I sent a message to dispatch and had a patrol sit on Emilio in case Kincaid’s threat turned into more than a few stern words. At least with the arrest, it wouldn’t seem abnormal to have patrols monitoring his crew.
Then I sent a text to my partner. What the hell did you dig up?
A moment later, my phone rang. I looked at the ID and hit answer. “Well?” I asked.
“Axel Kincaid left the hotel an hour before Juan Rodriguez was killed,” Brad said. “He wasn’t a guest. In fact, we have no idea why he was even there. We spotted him in the lobby when we were reviewing the interior footage.”
“What was he doing there?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“He read a magazine and used the john.”
“There aren’t any cameras in the bathroom,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. I checked it out, but we didn’t find anything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Feel free to look again.”
I laughed. Brad always got cranky when he was tired. And since it was after three in the morning, he was probably exhausted. “Maybe I will.” I blew out a breath. “You should know, there’s a chance Kincaid might be on to me.”
“Did he hurt you? What did he say, Liv?”
“It was weird. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Liv,” Brad wheedled, “you sure you’re okay? I don’t know what I walked in on tonight, but it didn’t look good.”
“I’m fine. Let’s put this thing to bed.”
“It looks like that’s what Kincaid planned to do with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good night, Brad. Call if there are any developments.”
“You do the same.”
A backup team remained on standby two minutes out, just in case I really was blown and Kincaid was as good an actor as Fennel and me. It was almost five a.m. before I settled down enough to sleep. Working nights in a club and days at the precinct made sleep nearly impossible. But this should be over soon. Kincaid was in custody. We placed him at the hotel around the time of the thefts. We had our killer or one of the killer’s accomplices. Once we convinced Axel to roll on his crew, we’d get warrants for everything and find out what was really going on in the back room of that club.
You know it’s not that simple, the voice in my head muttered. I rolled over and stared at the neon green glow of the clock, unable to sleep. Emma was working graveyard at the hospital. She wouldn’t mind an early morning call, so I dialed and waited.
“Hey, what are you doing up so early?” Emma asked.
“Waiting for some things to shake loose on a late night bust. How’s Becca?”
“No change.”
“How are you?” I asked.
Emma snickered. “I can’t complain. Well, I could, but if I do, I’ll just sound like an ungrateful bitch. So anyway, moving on, Maria called the other day.”
“My mom?”
“Yep.”
“What did she want?”
“She wanted to know if I was coming to family dinner.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot to ask you.”
“Sure, sure. It’s just because you’re jealous your mom likes me more than you.”
I laughed. “Well, she does. You’re the daughter she always wanted.”
“Liv,” Emma said patiently, “you know that’s not true.”
“No. It is, but it’s okay.” The awkward silence filled the air. “You can’t leave me in suspense. Are you coming to dinner?”
“That depends. Are you going to be there?”
“I’m working on it.”
“Well, work faster. She wants my answer by Friday. And I don’t want to go to another one of your family functions if you aren’t going to be there. It’s always so awkward. Your dad never knows what to say to me, and your mom gives me the third degree on who I’m dating and when I’m going to settle down and get married. Do you remember the time she tried to fix me up with your cousin?”
“I’m so glad she likes you more than me.”
“Shit,” Em said, “someone’s coding. I gotta go.” She hung up before I could say another word.
I stared at the end call message. Was this really my life? Or was my life just another fake identity? I’d been working undercover assignments for nearly two years. I didn’t even have my own apartment anymore because I was rarely me. In between assignments, I’d crash at Emma’s or my parents’. At times, I felt like I was losing myself. Right now was one of those moments. I needed to get some sleep. I’d feel better once I was back at my desk in the precinct.
The sun came up before I managed to fall asleep. And when I finally did, there was a knock on the door. Brad. It had to be. I brushed my hair back and peered through the peephole.
Holy shit. I checked the apartment. Nothing linking to the police investigation or my identity was in sight. My badge and gun were locked away, along with any files I had brought along to peruse. Units were outside. I palmed my cell phone, tucking it into the pocket of my robe, ready to send an SOS.
Reluctantly, I slid the chain off the door and turned the lock. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “How do you know where I live?”
“Your job application,” Axel replied. He didn’t wait for an invitation before entering my apartment. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t know if the police brought you in for questioning.”
“No.”
“Good.” He paused, struggling to come up with something to say. It was odd for a man who always seemed completely in charge. “Thanks for helping me out back there.”
“I just told the truth.”
“I’m glad you did. Lies lead to more trouble.”
“They released you?”
He took a seat on the couch and rubbed his eyes. “Spark caters to a certain crowd. People who live large tend to frequent my club and also tend to be the same people in power. I just needed to make a few calls.” He snorted. “The police don’t have anything to hold me on. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not a thug. I don’t steal cars or kill people.”
“The police seem to think so.”
“What do you think, Liv? Do you think I’m a monster?”
“No.” I shrugged the question away.
He sighed. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I have a past. I understand why I’d be their prime suspect. But they have no proof, and until they do, they need t
o back off.”
It sounded like a warning, and again, I wondered if I was compromised.
His cold eyes stared at me. “I need you tomorrow night.”
“Okay.” I gave him a confused look. “I don’t think I’m scheduled to work, but I can come in.”
“Not work. I’ll pick you up around midnight. Dress comfortably, but not that comfortably.” He eyed the ratty t-shirt and pajama shorts beneath my robe. “Now get some sleep. You can have tonight off. I imagine the police will be back in force, and I don’t want to give them easy access to you. You’ve already done enough.”
Again, his words resonated as a threat. I didn’t react. Instead, I remained on the couch, watching as he let himself out of the apartment.
He was planning something. Unfortunately, I had no idea what it was, but it involved me.
Eleven
He remained outside her apartment. She was smooth. The lies she told rolled off her tongue easily. She had a reasonable explanation for everything. How much longer could she carry on the charade before she was caught? How much longer could he wait?
A glance at her bedroom window ensured she was asleep, so he stepped out of the non-descript minivan. In running gear and a hoodie, the surveillance unit wouldn’t recognize him. After all, they didn’t even notice when he parked the van two spaces behind them. They weren’t looking for a van. He wasn’t even sure if they would notice a flashy muscle car. They were focused on her, just like he was.
He jogged down the street, his soles slapping against the pavement. Aside from a few people walking their dogs, it was too early for most people to be out. He jogged past her motorcycle, the racing bike glistening in the morning mist.
She only rode it to the club. It was part of her cover, and he had no interest in her lies. Liv DeMarco interested him, not Olivia Bell. And that meant the detective’s car might come in handy, especially since she believed no one knew about it. It’s why she kept it on a side street.