There was a small silence. Player leaned over her to reach the cup of tea. “Drink this, Zyah. Is there honey in it, Jonas? She likes honey in her tea, and that will help with the shock.”
“I’m not in shock. It’s just that those pictures were awful.”
Again, she pressed into him. Player could feel her vulnerability and knew she would detest that the others would see her that way. He glanced up at Maestro, who immediately took the teacup from Zyah’s trembling hand and added two teaspoons of honey off the tray, keeping his body between Zyah and the two cops. He took his time stirring the tea until Player nodded, and then he handed back the cup.
“Ms. Gamal,” Jonas said, addressing Zyah’s grandmother. “Anat,” he hastily corrected himself. “There are a traveling band of robbers who target smaller towns and retired people, particularly ones who are grouped together. They seem to have inside information on those living in the town. They rob and beat up the occupants of several of the homes and leave quickly. When they go, a body is usually discovered a few days later, one suspected to be the local informer. That person is a member of the family or a trusted neighbor of one of those robbed. The point is, the band hits fast, robs quickly and is gone. They don’t stick around. So, the question is, why are they staying here? They’ve hit four homes. They came back to your home twice, and perhaps a third time.”
Anat shook her head. “What do you mean, four? I know of only three, counting me. Phillis and Benjamin and Gabe and Harmony both got robbed. Who else?”
“Last night Lauren and Sean Barbery were robbed. Fortunately, a neighbor heard Lauren screaming and called it in fast. Jackson was able to get there before too much damage was done. But it doesn’t explain why these thieves haven’t moved on. They’ve never stayed so long in one place. And they’ve never hit a home more than once. Have they come back to your house again, Anat? After the second time? What are they looking for?”
Player could feel anger rushing through Zyah. He put his hand gently over hers. “Are you implying that Anat somehow knows these people, Harrington? How could she possibly answer that? Is she psychic? Are you psychic, Anat?”
“No, I’m not, Player, but I suppose Jonas thinks these people tried to rob me more than once.”
“You know they did,” Jonas said. “They came here when Inez and Frank were here. I think they came back a month ago and met up with Torpedo Ink. I can’t prove it, but I think it happened and they got the worse end of the fight. If that’s true and they still haven’t left town, what is keeping them here? What do you have that they want?”
“Blame it on the bikers,” Maestro groused. “We’ve got broad shoulders. We can take it. But you know what? I’m friends with Hannah, your wife, and she isn’t going to like you harassing us. And she likes Blythe. They’re cousins. Did you know that? Cousins. As in family. Which makes us family.”
Player tucked Zyah’s hand over his thigh and let Maestro take Jonas’s attention away from the two of them. Especially away from his head. If the two cops insisted on looking at what was under the bandages, he could be in trouble. His brain might be healed, but the outside flesh still looked as if a bullet had fucked him up. And Deveau hadn’t taken his eyes off him. That was the trouble with Jackson. He was too good at his job.
“If you’re family, Maestro, you’ve got to be at least ten billion times removed,” Jonas snapped. “I’m investigating a murder, so let me get on with it.”
“How do you know it’s a murder? It could have been self-defense. Or suicide. Isn’t that jumping to conclusions? What kind of sheriff jumps to conclusions? You might be family, but you still have to do a decent job if you want to be reelected,” Maestro pointed out in his most pious voice.
Zyah laughed. Anat joined her. Player couldn’t help smiling. Maestro had given him enough time to orient himself firmly in the present, to know what was going on and how best to do damage control. Zyah had done her best to protect him. She knew damn well he’d shot both those men—and that he’d been the one to kill them. She’d taken that fact fairly calmly, just like she’d taken everything else about him.
He couldn’t help himself, he had to indulge. He had managed to be sitting right next to her, thigh to thigh, her body tucked under his shoulder, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. He wrapped a length of her thick, dark hair around his hand and closed his fingers, making a fist around it. Pure silk. He fucking loved her hair. He loved lying in bed with her, all that long hair sliding over his chest because he deliberately refused to wear a shirt, knowing she’d lie with him at night after his nightmares and he’d feel the silk of her hair and the satin of her skin, see the sweep of her long lashes.
“Are you paying attention, Player?” Jonas demanded.
“Not really,” Player admitted. “I was looking at my woman. She’s fuckin’ beautiful. You, on the other hand, don’t do much for me.” He held up one hand in surrender. “Please restate, and I’ll pay attention.”
“The sheriff seems to think I’m holding out on him,” Anat explained. “I don’t have any more jewelry to steal, Jonas. There’s not one more valuable item here in this house. I do have a safe, but it’s empty. I haven’t ever used it. I bought it with the idea I’d keep cash in it, but I just never did. Maybe they know about that and think there’s something of value in it. You can have it if you’d like. Make a show of taking it out. Pretend it’s very heavy, as if I have gold bars in it and you’re taking them to a bank for me.”
Jonas glanced at Jackson Deveau, and Player caught the nearly imperceptible nod the deputy gave the sheriff. Torpedo Ink had long suspected Jackson was a human lie detector, and Player was certain he’d just had confirmation. Deveau had just assured Jonas that Anat was telling the truth.
“I’m just trying to make certain you’re safe, Anat. I don’t understand why they keep coming here. Is it possible you talked about something expensive you owned when you were at lunch with friends? Remember, these thieves have an in with someone who knows all of you. You belong to the Red Hat Society. All of you have fun together, and you talk. Could you have brought up something of value you have in your home to them?” Jonas asked.
Player had to admit, that was a good question. He exchanged a quick look with Zyah. It was true the thieves had returned three times. They’d made a grab for Anat’s granddaughter. The why of it was a good question. Anat didn’t know they’d done that, but they had.
Anat shook her head. “Horus, my husband, wasn’t a man to buy me jewelry, because I didn’t ever wear it. He made things with his own two hands for me. He wrote me poetry. Those were the things I treasured. My granddaughter is my greatest treasure. The ankle bells that were my mother’s. The ones that were my Amara’s—my daughter. They didn’t get those, because they weren’t kept in the jewelry box. They were angry that I had so little in the way of jewels. I had cash, which I gave to them. It was in a drawer in the kitchen. But there was nothing to tell my friends.”
Player could have told them Anat would never risk her granddaughter’s life even if she did have jewels, although they hadn’t told the police that someone had attempted to kidnap Zyah. They hadn’t because Player had shot two men. Now those men were dead.
As if Jonas could read his mind, the sheriff brought the subject back to the two dead men. “The robbers only have to believe there’s something of value here, Anat. They have someone in town working with them. Someone who knows all of your friends. Someone you talk to and who has been inside this house.”
“Please don’t scare my grandmother,” Zyah objected. She shifted as if she might get up. Player put a restraining hand on her thigh, so she reached out to take her grandmother’s hand instead. “You have no idea how difficult it’s been for her to try to feel safe in her own home after what happened to her. Those men broke into our home and robbed her. They beat her.”
To Player’s horror, there was a little sob in her voi
ce. He immediately wrapped his arm around her head and turned her face into his chest.
“I know you’re trying to help them, Jonas, but neither of these women has a clue why these men wanted to target them in the first place. They have no idea if they’re still being targeted.”
“I’m not making this up, Player,” Jonas said quietly. “These men came back a second time, and if I’m right about what happened a few weeks ago, they targeted this house a third time. That means this gang is way off their normal pattern. If that’s the case, something very big is making them risk getting caught when they wouldn’t ordinarily take chances.”
That gave Player pause. Jonas was right. Code had already given Torpedo Ink the information that this particular gang of thieves would always grab and move on to the next small town. They targeted a small group of elderly and got out fast before law enforcement even knew they were around. They didn’t hit the same house twice, let alone try to kidnap a member of the household. That was way off the norm. They’d already hit four homes. They had come to Anat’s house on three occasions. They hadn’t returned because Torpedo Ink was there.
“Their violence has been escalating. They’ve always been willing to kill. They get rid of their insider once they leave,” Jonas continued. “But they’ve never deviated from their pattern of hitting four or five houses and leaving town fast. That’s how they never get caught.”
“Maybe it isn’t the same gang,” Player ventured. He could feel Zyah tensing. She had spent so much time—too much time—healing his fractured mind that it was impossible for her to hide much from him. As far as Zyah knew, they had nothing of worth in their home that robbers would want.
Anat leaned so far forward in her wheelchair that Player actually put out a hand as if he could catch her if she fell. Maestro and Jackson did the same. She ignored them all, looking directly into the sheriff’s eyes.
“I would never, ever, under any circumstances, risk my granddaughter’s life. There is nothing in this world that I wouldn’t give to a kidnapper, robber or killer to get her back. She is my entire world. She is my everything. I have nothing that I can think of that these people want. Whoever this insider is, this informant is, they know more about my household than I do.”
Player felt his gut clench but kept the expressionless mask on his face in the ensuing silence. Jonas Harrington and Jackson Deveau would never miss a mistake like the one Anat had just made. The older woman sat back in her wheelchair, having made her point.
Anat sipped at her tea, looking regal. As far as Player was concerned, she was magnificent. He didn’t remember having a grandmother. Or really, even, a mother. The weeks spent with Anat Gamal had been one of the best experiences of his life. She was intelligent, had a tremendous sense of humor and told him countless stories of places and occurrences in her past that were fascinating to him. She was a wealth of knowledge, and he did his best to learn from her.
When her friends came to visit, he tried to make himself scarce, but she never tried to hide his presence. She wasn’t embarrassed to have a biker and his friends around. He just plain liked her, even though she’d just made a huge mistake and most likely, although inadvertently, thrown him under the bus.
“Kidnapper?” Jonas echoed, sitting up straight. He exchanged a brief look with his deputy. “Did someone attempt to kidnap your granddaughter? Is that what happened here a few weeks ago?”
Anat frowned. “What are you talking about? Nothing happened a few weeks ago. I was just reassuring you, I would never value anything more than I would my granddaughter. There isn’t anything in this house. There isn’t, Jonas. I know you’re worried. Player’s worried. So is Zyah.” She looked at Maestro and then into the shadows. “All of you are. I would tell you if I had anything worth them coming back for, but I don’t.” A little shiver went through her. “They scare me. I don’t want them coming back.”
“You don’t have to be afraid, Anat,” Destroyer’s voice came out of the shadows. “We’re here, and the sheriff has been doing extra patrols. No one is going to hurt you again.”
TEN
“I don’t understand you, Player.” Anat gave an exaggerated sigh. “You and my granddaughter seemed very close, kissing on the couch in front of the police, and now you barely speak to each other. I thought you’d worked everything out at last. You say you have to leave and yet you still seem to have such vicious headaches. I know this isn’t the best thing for you. Did you have a fight? An argument? Couples get angry with each other. It’s called passion. You have passion between you—anyone can see this.”
“She kissed me in order to stop Jonas from asking questions, that was all.” It was an honest answer, whether Player wanted it to be or not.
Anat had gotten so much stronger just in the weeks he’d been there. Her arm was definitely better, as were her spirits. Even her broken leg was better, according to the doctor, and would soon be ready again to try physical therapy. There was brightness back in her eyes and she smiled often. He hated to leave too, but it wasn’t safe being around Zyah anymore. And it was extremely difficult to be in the same room and know he could never have her. He wanted her permanently, not for a quick fuck—and he couldn’t even have that. His body was getting to the point he was afraid he might shatter.
Anat was silent for a moment and then she shook her head. “I promised myself I wouldn’t interfere, but I’m old, Player, and I don’t have time to wait around until the two of you figure it out. Zyah came home in tears some weeks ago, devastated by the behavior of a man she had been with. You, clearly, are that man.”
Player took a breath. That hit him hard. Zyah crying. Devastated. He’d done that to her. Anat, a woman he respected and admired, knowing. That struck him deep. He pressed his palm hard over his heart. “That was me.” He was responsible. “I’d been several days without sleep and for some reason when I don’t sleep, I get confused. I always have. I can’t think straight. Things get mixed up in my head, so reality and dreams mix together. I didn’t think she was real. That isn’t a good excuse. I went looking for her immediately and tried to apologize, but it was too late. I really hurt her, and then this happened.” He touched the wrap on his head.
“What exactly did happen? I know what Zyah told me happened that night, but clearly, there is much more to the story. I thought about it after Jonas left the other night. He was so certain you had something to do with those men the fishermen had pulled out of the sea. Did someone try to kidnap my granddaughter?” She asked the question directly, her eyes looking so much like Zyah’s, boring straight into his.
He wanted to dismiss her. Walk away. But this was Zyah’s grandmother. This was Anat Gamal, and he respected her too much to lie.
“Yes. They were waiting in the garage for her and they attacked her. I managed to get in under the door before it closed, but they came at me with a baseball bat and then a gun. I did roll over the hood of her car. Things happened very fast. Seconds. No more than two minutes. They ran. I never saw their faces, but there was a woman with them and she was yelling, wanting them to hurt Zyah. I felt she knew Zyah and that it was personal for her.” He was hoping to distract Anat’s attention from the two dead men Jonas had brought up.
“You and Zyah thought it best not to call the police?” There was no judgment. With Anat, he never found there was.
“Yes, I’m sorry, Anat. Torpedo Ink and the police don’t always see eye to eye. We get blamed for a lot of things. We were escorting Zyah home. She works for us and it was late. Czar heard about the robbery and what happened to you, so he told us that Zyah was to have someone escort her home every night that she worked late. Normally, there would have been two of us, but Maestro had returned to the club to pick up a couple of things before he caught up with us. That was why he was late getting here and arrived just when we came into your house.”
“What really happened to your head?”
He took a deep breath
. “I was shot.”
Anat was silent for a moment, digesting the information. She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what these people think I have. They took what little jewelry I kept. I live very simply. Zyah bought the house for me. She loved the views and thought it would be nice for both of us when she came home. She always talked of coming to live with me, although I didn’t think she’d really come.”
Player thought Anat sounded tired, and that alarmed him. It was still early, too early for Zyah to come home. He’d spent the day with Anat because, since he’d been there, no one had been scheduled to stay with her. He wasn’t about to leave until her granddaughter was home and they both were safe, locked inside.
He knew the sheriff sent extra patrols, which didn’t say much. They were stretched thin. Sea Haven didn’t have a police department. They were under the sheriff’s jurisdiction. It was only because both Jonas and Jackson lived in Sea Haven that the sheriff was around as much as he was. There were simply too many miles in the county to cover and not enough manpower. Torpedo Ink picked up the slack with Anat Gamal’s home. They had someone watching it at all times.
As if she were reading his mind, Anat made a guess. “Torpedo Ink is watching over us, aren’t they? Not just here in the house but outside as well.”
“Yes, ma’am, they are. They’ll continue to do so even after I’m gone, but you shouldn’t tell anyone, including your friends, not even Inez.”
She was silent a moment studying his face as if trying to read his reasons. “Your people are good people, Player,” she said. “Very good people. Why are you leaving when you should be trying to make my stubborn granddaughter see that she is making a big mistake by not forgiving you?”
Reckless Road Page 21