“Player, this is Lucy Bellmont. I was telling her that your club owns quite a bit of the properties in Caspar. She’s lived there most of her life. Lucy, this is Player. I met him at the Gamal house.”
Player gave the Bellmont woman a smile, all the while wondering what Terrie wanted. Terrie was always unfailingly sweet to Anat, but the moment Terrie had insisted she wanted to be alone with the older woman and Anat had clearly been in pain after, he had changed his mind about the physical therapist. Now, watching her closely, he wasn’t so certain anything about her was genuine.
“This is Alena and Lana,” he introduced his Torpedo Ink sisters and waited for Terrie to have her say.
“Lucy is interested in a job at the grocery store in Caspar, Player. I know Zyah works there and Inez has something to do with the store. Do you have any idea if Lucy should just go into the store and get an application or does she have to go into the one here in Sea Haven? That was what she was going to do.”
Terrie liked to be in the know. Or was she trying to determine whether or not Torpedo Ink owned the store with Inez? It was a safe bet that they did, since they owned a good deal of the downtown properties, just as Terrie had pointed out.
“I think if you put in your application at either of the stores, Inez would be fine with it,” Lana answered for him. “I happen to know she’s working at the Caspar store today, so she might even interview you on the spot. Another woman was going there today in the hopes she had time to interview. They need a lot of help.”
Lucy broke into a smile after looking a little strained, as if she hadn’t been so happy that Terrie had asked Player for help. “Thank you.”
“Inez really does own the store, then?” Terrie asked.
“That’s the word on the street,” Lana said. “Torpedo Ink has been helping her out with stocking until she can get it up and running. Good help isn’t easy to find.”
Player’s gaze flicked to Terrie’s face. She’d definitely been looking for information. “Enjoy your lunch, ladies.” He stepped back to make room for Anat’s wheelchair to get through the aisle back to her place.
“Did I miss anything important?” Anat asked.
Player leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Only that I saved you a cookie and I refrained from shooting the sheriff. I think his wife put a bunch of toads in his car. That’s a gift that could come in handy.”
Sabelia cleared the empty hat cups from the table, pausing to agree. “I believe you’re right, Player. I’ve been trying to perfect that one. I do need something to practice on. You wouldn’t give me the make and model of the vehicle Preacher drives, would you?” She used her sweetest voice.
Lana swung around. “Is my brother deserving of toads in his personal truck?”
“Preacher is your brother?” Sabelia straightened to her full height, which was a little ridiculous next to Lana’s tall figure. “I mean aside from being Torpedo Ink.”
“Yes.”
Sabelia flashed an impish smile. “He was extremely rude and called me a moron along with a wealth of other things. But I also was just as rude back, and he didn’t get me fired, so we’re even, and I don’t know how to put toads in his truck unless I catch them, which I have no intention of doing. I just thought if I was going to practice something like that, he might be a good one to practice on. At least his vehicle.”
“If you decide to pursue your craft, let me know. I’ll do all I can to assist you,” Lana said.
Sabelia laughed. Player thought the sound lifted some of the darker shadows talking with Terrie had given him. Sabelia’s laughter had a similar tone to Hannah’s when it was real.
Lana slipped into the seat across from Anat, intent on striking up a conversation with her and Blythe. Player didn’t blame her. Anat was a gift, and just being close to her could brighten anyone’s world. He wanted to be near Zyah. He looked around for her. Alena and Zyah stood by the window, looking out at the street. He joined them, crowding close to his woman, inhaling her scent, breathing away the last traces of gloom.
Zyah leaned into Player when he wrapped his arms around her waist. She loved the feel of his body against hers. His strength, and the way he was unflinchingly so possessive, so proud to let everyone know she was with him, made her feel inexplicably happy. She didn’t need a man to be confident. She knew who she was, but being with Player brought her joy.
He had given Anat a wonderful time with so many visitors. Her grandmother was in her element when she was regaling others with tales of her past and her colorful homeland. She was a good listener as well, encouraging others to tell her everything about themselves. Those qualities made her popular among old and young alike.
Player and Zyah hadn’t wanted to tire her out on her first real day out, so they had chosen to take her to the Floating Hat for tea and a luncheon. Blythe, Alena and Lana were going to join them. She didn’t know if it was a coincidence, but it was wonderful that Breezy, Anya, Soleil and Scarlet had happened in for tea as well. Anat had really enjoyed meeting them.
Alena slung her arm around Zyah. “I could have used you at the restaurant last night—we were slammed.” She nodded toward Jonas. “He had to come in last night because that little weasel Perry Randall wouldn’t answer his cell phone.”
“What was wrong? He was having dinner with Francine.”
Suddenly, there it was, all over again: that terrible dread Zyah had been feeling from the night before. She’d thought the premonition was over her grandfather’s drawing, but the feeling had hit her long before she’d gotten home. It had started right when Francine had driven up to the curb drunk in her grandmother’s prized Cadillac. She found herself pressing her body closer into Player’s.
“Perry’s parents were robbed and attacked last night,” Alena continued. She half turned to keep her body slightly at an angle away from Anat.
Player tightened his arms around Zyah’s waist, and she was grateful for his support.
“Why did Jonas come looking for him so quickly? How bad was it?” Player asked Alena the question Zyah had wanted to ask but couldn’t get the words out. She was terrified of the answer.
“His father is in a coma, Player. I don’t think he’s going to make it. And his mother isn’t in much better condition. Honestly, from what I understand, Perry could lose both his parents. Jonas, of course, didn’t tell Perry that, only that it was bad and Perry needed to get to the hospital. Blythe told me this morning when I asked. She’s got connections at the hospital.”
Zyah pressed her hand to her stomach, afraid she might vomit. Who in the world would beat older people to such an extent that they would put them in the hospital? Almost kill them?
“The thieves are escalating just the way Jonas said they were. I don’t understand why they aren’t leaving town the way they have every other place they’ve robbed,” Player said.
“Did Perry go to the hospital right away?” Zyah asked. “He never seemed very close to his parents, and from what my grandmother implied once when she talked about him, he didn’t treat them very well; he acted kind of mean to them. Still, I would hope he would have gone.”
There was a part of her that wanted him to be the informant. The local man helping the robbers. She wanted him to be vile enough to serve his own parents up to the robbers in order to keep the cops from looking his way, not realizing the thieves would kill him before they left town.
Alena nodded. “He turned almost white. He looked shocked. The weird thing was, Francine didn’t look so shocked. She must have been drunker than I thought, because it seemed to take a good while before it sank in that Perry’s parents were in the hospital. She kept chattering away and acting like they had all the time in the world before they had to leave. She even had her phone out and was texting. She pouted because she was going to miss dessert. He finally got exasperated and told her to catch a ride home with someone else, that he had to
go right then. She left with him, but it only seemed to sink in right before they left that something was wrong.”
Zyah froze, everything in her going still. She had been missing something all along. Francine was texting. She’d been angry when Zyah refused to have Player come to dinner with her. When Francine was angry, she always struck out verbally—which she had. She was already fairly drunk. The robbers had an inside person—someone close to the elderly community. No way would Francine ever condone hurting her grandmother. Would she anyone else? Francine might not like Zyah, but she did like Anat. Didn’t she? And what about Lizz’s other friends?
Surely the things going through her mind couldn’t possibly be the truth. She didn’t want to even consider such a possibility. Had Francine been trying to get Zyah out of the way, taking her to dinner so someone could get back into her grandmother’s house? When she’d learned that Player was with her grandmother, had she insisted that he come to dinner with them in order to get him out of the house? Zyah didn’t want to think those thoughts, but they wouldn’t stop.
“What is it, baby?” Player asked, his lips against her ear.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to voice her doubts out loud. Certainly not in the tearoom, where someone might overhear her. She could barely allow herself to consider that Francine would really set Anat up to be beaten and robbed. Not just Anat, but all of Lizz’s friends in the community. Could she really sit at dinner with Perry, knowing his parents were being robbed? Would she go to a motel with him? Or worse, go to the guesthouse on his parents’ property and have sex with him knowing his parents were being assaulted? The idea sickened Zyah. Was Francine really capable of that kind of behavior?
Then there was the woman in her garage. The one yelling, Fuck her up, fuck her up. The voice had been muffled by the ski mask over her head, and Zyah had been occupied trying to fight off two men, but thinking back, the high-pitched, eagerly gleeful sound could have been Francine when she was extremely drunk. Did Francine really hate her enough to have men kidnap her? Possibly kill her?
Zyah spun around, practically throwing herself into Player’s arms, willing him not to ask her any questions.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Alena said.
“No, no, I’m all right. I just wish these people would be caught,” Zyah said. “I don’t understand why they went back to my grandmother’s home. She never was one for jewelry. She loved to dance. Belly dance. It’s part of the culture—in our family, I mean—so we have a few bracelets and anklets, but they aren’t worth anything monetarily.”
Player kept his arm around her, holding her in close to his body as they made their way to Anat’s table, where Blythe and Lana talked animatedly with her. Zyah looked at Anat’s hands. She never wore bracelets or bangles. She didn’t wear earrings either. She always said Horus preferred her not to, so she didn’t. Now that Zyah thought about it, Horus actually had jewelry and Anat didn’t. Horus gave her beautiful things he created with his two hands, and she treasured them, but he didn’t give her jewels. So what did the thieves think Anat had?
She had a horrible suspicion she knew. What had Jonas asked Anat? At lunch had she ever talked about anything to her Red Hat Society friends? She always claimed she had a great treasure. Zyah was her great treasure. Anat really regarded her that way. It wasn’t diamonds or gold. Zyah was her treasure.
Player waited for her to slip into a chair close to Anat, and then he sat beside her. His presence comforted her. More and more, she feared she was right about Francine. Francine was the traitor, the local who had given the thieves information on the elderly, what they had inside their homes and how to get in. Francine would have heard the gossip about Anat’s treasure, and she would have passed that information on to the thieves, betraying Anat. Betraying Zyah. She glanced once at Terrie Frankle. She and Francine had some kind of connection. She traveled from place to place. She was in and out of people’s homes. When Zyah had changed the locks on the doors the first time, she could have easily gotten a key to the dead bolt.
Don’t keep looking at her, baby. Talk to your grandmother and have a good time. We’ll deal with all this later.
Player. The voice of reason. She didn’t know whether to cry her eyes out over Francine’s betrayal, knowing how it was going to hurt Lizz, or stand up and punch Terrie Frankle right in the mouth for deliberately hurting her grandmother. Instead, she forced a smile onto her face and joined the conversation swirling around her.
SEVENTEEN
Player stood in the shadows, watching Zyah and Alena moving through the aisles between tables. The restaurant was overflowing as usual. Crow 287 never lacked for business. For him, in that moment, Zyah was the epitome of courage. She moved with the grace of a dancer, flowing across the floor, stealing his breath. She was sheer magic to him, and he knew, if they spent a lifetime together, she always would be.
Zyah’s thick hair hung in a braid down her back. She wore little makeup, enhancing only her eyes and long lashes and that lush mouth of hers. Dressed in her favorite pair of vintage jeans and a silk blouse the color of dark forest green, she wore boots that only completed her look of femininity. He wanted to scoop her up and rush her out of there, instead of watching Alena show her around as if convincing her she really should work there.
He could hear everything said through the tiny earpieces built by Transporter and Mechanic. The two men made continuous improvements to the gear used on their hunt and takedown of pedophile rings. The earpieces would allow all of Torpedo Ink as well as Jonas to hear what was being said.
“I can’t believe that Delia Swanson is going to work in a grocery store instead of a restaurant, where she’s worked her entire life,” Alena grumbled, glaring at Zyah.
Zyah flashed a triumphant grin. “It’s not my fault she was sick of waitressing. Cooking. Running the entire operation. Or that Inez is that persuasive.”
“Your store has two new employees in one day, and I’m still looking. I think you owe it to me to take the job.”
“Alena.” Player all but growled her name. “Zyah doesn’t need a second job. She’s on her feet all day as it is.”
The two women made the circuit of the room right in front of the windows, Alena pointing various things out as they made their way toward the back room, where larger parties were often seated.
“I think I can decide for myself whether or not I need a second job,” Zyah said.
Player fought down the flash of amusement and the wild reaction of his cock at the snippy belligerence in her voice. He also knew the shit-storm she had just ignited with his brethren, and it made him smile in spite of the gravity of the situation. His woman had no idea what that little outburst was going to set off.
Master was the first to weigh in with his opinion. “Are you kidding me? Are you taking that shit, Player? Your woman is out of control.”
“What does he mean by that?” Zyah asked.
“Ignore them,” Alena said. “That’s what Lana and I do. Come on, honey. We need to parade around in front of the windows again before we go into the kitchen. Look really interested in how the tables are set up.”
“A woman doesn’t ignore her man, Alena,” Keys pointed out. “And telling her to do that isn’t a good idea. That could get her in real trouble.”
Player thought the entire discussion was a good diversion when he knew Zyah was extremely nervous. He could feel the combination of laughter and feminine indignation, as if she couldn’t quite make up her mind if she should believe a word they said.
“Real trouble?” Zyah echoed. “I think you’re talking in Torpedo Ink code.”
“That should earn her punishment,” Maestro decreed. “I’m talking the real kind, Player, no joking around. She’s already putting herself in a dangerous position, and now she’s defiant.”
“That’s what comes of giving women choices,” Savage chimed in.
�
�Giving women choices,” Zyah echoed, her voice strangled. Outraged. But definitely amused at the same time. “Player, do you want to explain this conversation to me?”
“It means I’ve evolved and they haven’t, baby. I have no intention of spanking that pretty little ass of yours, although it is a temptation.”
She nearly whirled around right there on the floor of the restaurant to find where he was in the shadows, but fortunately, Alena slung an arm around her waist, preventing Zyah from giving them away.
Player didn’t know if he really was that much more evolved. Not that he would ever want to dictate to Zyah, but he didn’t want her to have a second job, as much as he wanted to help Alena out. When would they ever see each other? Even living together.
Player? At once Zyah connected to him on an intimate level. Mind to mind. Just the two of them. What’s wrong? I know they were just teasing to get me to relax.
They were and they weren’t. It was a running argument among the members, on how far one went to keep a partner in line, but that wasn’t what had him worried. He had made up his mind to be truthful with her, and this subject bordered on something he wasn’t so certain he knew the truth about.
I realized I really don’t want you to have a second job. I hadn’t thought much about it before. A part of me is being selfish because I want to spend time with you. I work during the day, so the job at the store is fine. I had hoped the nights I play at the bar with the band you’d be there with me. And what happens if Anat gets to a point where she can’t live alone? I’ve thought a lot about that. She can’t go into a nursing home, Zyah. We won’t know how they’re treating her. If I hadn’t become suspicious of that therapist or you hadn’t insisted she get a second X-ray, she could have been really injured. If you have a second job, who would look after her? We could hire someone, but then we’d have to have cameras. I wouldn’t mind staying home, but she would be uncomfortable with me taking her to the bathroom . . .
Reckless Road Page 36