Grey sat up, pulled up his t-shirt, and turned his back to me. “Am I bleeding?”
“The blood’s pouring out.” I squinted and ran my fingers lightly over his skin. The claw marks were barely noticeable. “Fetch yourself a paper towel, and I’ll do a mop-up when you get back from giving Mobster a treat. There’s an open can of cat food in the refrigerator. Consider it a bonding moment with my feline—his affections can always be bought with tuna.”
“Your empathy is overwhelming.”
I attempted to roll away and was held in place by a muscled arm.
“When I’m done in the kitchen, we’ll be off on our road trip.”
“Tell Mobster he’s a good boy; he likes that.”
“Yeah, sure.” Grey stood and helped me to my feet.
I made my way to my bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom. After a quick shower, I chose a hot pink A-line sleeveless tank dress and a pair of slide sandals. Standing in front of the mirror, I pulled my hair into a high ponytail. I took a wad of keys out of the armoire, grabbed my purse, and met Grey in the hallway. He’d pulled on a plain baseball hat that I’d found and left on the table.
“Am I incognito enough?” Grey stood in front of me in jeans and a t-shirt, his appearance disheveled and his beard more than a few days past a neat stubble.
I skirted past him and opened a drawer in the buffet table. “I’ve got these reflector sunglasses that aren’t too girly. Between them and the hat, no one’s going to recognize you, and if they do, they’ll think, close resemblance, but not you.” I held out the car keys, which he took, then grasped his hand in mine. “Stairs or elevator?”
Grey looked at me in amusement. “When was the last time you bolted down forty-two flights of stairs?”
“A little competition? First one to hit the bottom gets to be bossy for the day.”
Grey stared as though he could uncover my secrets. “No deal. I smell a setup. Elevator works for me.”
I laughed as we let the door shut behind us, then stuck my security card in the panel next to the elevators, and the doors opened. “We have our own elevator for this floor.”
Grey eyed the keys in his hand. “Where’s my SUV?”
“In the garage, a car cover over it.”
“I’m betting my ‘nephew’ can get it traded for another ride registered in a phony name.” Grey stared at me like he thought it was a done deal. “And all of that is a crime.”
“How about…” I smiled sweetly. “My company buys it, and if you get pulled over, then you decide which license to hand over.”
He unleashed an irritated sigh. “I need to get this mess figured out so I can… that’s a good one, I have no clue.” He put his finger across my lips as the doors opened into the garage. “No apologizing. I know that’s what you were about to do.”
I led him over to the black Range Rover parked in front of his SUV.
He opened the door, helped me inside, and walked around, sliding behind the wheel. “Nice ride.”
I programmed the GPS.
Grey headed out of the underground parking, taking everything in as he pulled out onto the street. He slowed at the curb to stare up at the building. “Are all the units individually owned?”
“About ten percent are owned; the rest are rentals. The owner of the building is a friend and has been buying back the units as they come up for sale. It’s in the contract for the unit I purchased that if I sell, it has to be back to the corporation and at market value.” Rella had never publicly disclosed that she was the owner, and I wasn’t doing it. “The building’s got all the amenities and is well-maintained. There’s a gym on the twenty-first floor; your card key will open the door.” I reminded myself to give him one when we got back. “The property has beach access. Life doesn’t get much better.”
We cut over to the Causeway and past the islands where millionaires bought waterfront mansions, then down Highway One and over to a one-way street that was a straight shot to my dad’s building, which sat just short of an Interstate underpass. Grey pulled into the parking lot on one side of the square four-story white stucco building, braking and craning his neck to check out the billboard that graced one side at the top, currently advertising a local brewery.
I followed his eyes. “My dad boasted that he had a waiting list for that ad space, which surprises me, since the majority of traffic is flying by on the freeway.” A pickup parked in front of the glass entry doors on one side caught my attention. “Hmm… the building’s empty, so that truck was either dumped or…” I didn’t want to go borrowing trouble. “Either way, it doesn’t belong here.”
Grey passed it and backed into a space at the far end under a tree. We got out and checked out the interior of the truck as we headed for the door, seeing a few tools on the front seat. Grey, who was several steps ahead of me, turned and pushed me back. “Door’s cracked. This is where you call the cops and have them check it out.”
“No.” I turned and ran back to the SUV, reaching under the driver’s seat to retrieve my stun gun.
“Is that what I think it is?” He eyed it suspiciously.
I pulled the trigger, and it made a buzzing noise. “The battery’s still good. You mess with me, buddy, and I’ll lay your butt out on the asphalt.”
Grey’s lips twitched.
I wanted to smile, but knowing how controlled he was, he’d see it, know I was onto him, and stop with the almost-laughs.
Grey held out his hand. “I’ll take that, before we have a dead body to dump.”
“I’m corrupting you.”
“It was a fast trip to the dark side, and since I don’t show any inclination to end our association, I need to step up.” I’d given Grey a burner phone, which he took out of his pocket and used to snap a picture of the truck’s license plate.
I grinned. “You tell me what to do, and as long as it’s not wait out here in the parking lot, I’ll follow your instructions.”
“You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, as hard as that will be. I’m going to confront whoever that is and hope I don’t find myself staring down the barrel of a gun.”
I grabbed his arm. “I didn’t think about real guns and bullets. Maybe you should go for a walk and I’ll call the cops.” Not paying attention to what I was doing, I stepped into the doorway, which elicited a growl from Grey. He lurched forward, arm out, and at the same moment, a wild-eyed twenty-something crashed into me, the box he was holding crashing to the ground.
The intruder righted himself and yelled, “Who the hell are you?” He pushed me back, and I landed hard against the wall.
Grey’s fist made contact with his nose, and blood poured down the front of the man’s shirt. The guy yelped and covered his face. Grey hauled him up by the back of his shirt, sent him spinning into the wall, and held him there. “What are you doing here? Start talking before I black both your eyes.”
“Looking for small items to fence,” he moaned, blood seeping between his fingers. “Didn’t think anyone would be here.”
Grey loosened his hold and shoved the guy to a sitting position on the ground. “Call the cops.” He pointed to me.
I shot him a “we can’t do that” stare. “I bet he won’t come back. Will you?” I said to the man, who attempted to shake his head and fell back, groaning. “You by yourself?” I looked behind me at the open door to the stairwell.
Grey bent over and flicked through the contents of the box—burner phones and a cash box. I hadn’t seen them before and wondered what floor they came from. Grey straightened, fisted the back of the man’s shirt, and dragged him over to his truck. “I even see you in the neighborhood, and you’re dead.”
“I won’t be back. Promise,” the man muttered, stumbling to his feet. He hobbled into his truck and gunned it out of the space, over the sidewalk, and out on the road.
I bent down, picked up a lockpick, and held it up. “Now we know how he got inside.”
“I take it this place doesn’t have a security syst
em?” Once inside, Grey kicked the door closed and tugged on the handle.
“Not sure why Dad didn’t have one installed. Maybe he thought the insurance company sign on the side of the building would signal ‘nothing to see here.’ The business moved out before he bought the building.”
“How about a tour?” Grey slung his arm around my shoulders.
“Through that door is an elevator, but it’s locked. Needs servicing. The rest of the ground floor consists of a handful of parking spaces, the garage accessible from the rear of the building with a key card.” I opened the door to the stairwell. “There’s four floors. The top is an attic-like space and a dank hole because the billboard blocks the light to the handful of miniscule windows.” I started up the stairs. “Last time I was here, I made a point of locking the doors to the various floors.” I noted one door open a sliver. “We can assume that the intruder started with the first floor.”
Grey stepped in front of me and shoved the door wide open. I poked my head around his shoulder; it was the same smelly mess it had been before. The previous tenant had thrown whatever they didn’t want on the floor before moving out, then unplugged the refrigerator and left food inside to rot. It was my guess that they’d been asked to move and left the rotting mess as a one-finger salute.
Grey grumbled under his breath as he checked every corner of the wide-open space. He opened a couple of doors and, after a quick glance, stepped back. We moved to the second floor. It was locked.
I reached into his pocket while he stared, a smirk on his face, took out the keys and opened the door, then stepped back. Grey stepped inside and gave the space, identical to the floor below, a once-over. There wasn’t any trash to step around, but it needed a good cleaning.
The third floor—another large, unimpressive space—was the one that my dad had occupied. He’d moved in an oversized wood desk and put it in front of the window. In addition to his chair, there was a pair of enormous leather chairs that showed signs of wear. A bookcase unit took up the entirety of one wall. What most people wouldn’t know unless they owned one was that the middle section swung back, revealing a safe. It held bank records, guns, ammunition, cash, and more phones, the latter still in their original packaging. Another added feature—a drawer that ran the length of the unit and had been outfitted with plugs for charging electronics.
Grey checked out the space and crossed to the windows that ran from wall to wall. From this vantage point, you could see two different worlds—older office buildings and warehouses on one side of the freeway and towering high-rises once you cleared the underpass. “Interesting location. This building sitting empty is an invitation to thugs like the one who just left to come have a look around, see if they get lucky and find something. Or squatters.”
“I don’t know what happened to the other tenants, but at one time, all the floors were rented. I’m betting whatever kind of business my dad conducted, it didn’t involve foot traffic.” The more I uncovered about dear old Dad, the harder it was not to believe that he had a major hoodlum gig going. Unless the person who called in a hit on Grey was as mistaken in thinking my dad would carry it out as he was in my doing so. But I wasn’t making any snap judgments until I talked to him. I hoped with everything in me that we’d see one another again, and not on visiting day at some jail.
Grey pulled me into his arms for a hug; he must’ve been reading my mind and figured out that’s what I needed. After a moment, he stepped back and stared down at me. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“First time and all? It’s a little dirty in here for us to be…” I scissored my fingers. “Where’s the romance?” I hadn’t meant to utter the ‘R’ word out loud.
Grey laughed and shook his head. “You need a presence in this building to deter thieves. I’m thinking I’d be an ideal temporary tenant until your father comes back. I can discourage break-ins and send a message that it’s now occupied. Another upside: if you wanted to kick me out of your apartment, you wouldn’t have to feel bad, knowing I had a place to kick up my feet.”
Kick him out? That idea sucked the air of me. “You going to drag in an air mattress?” I didn’t want him to move; guess my condo wasn’t as special as I thought. Not if the office was an acceptable alternative. My dad never even snoozed here, as evidenced by the lack of a couch. There was one on the first floor, but it needed to be hauled away.
Grey finished his walk around the space in front of two unmarked doors and opened each one, checking out the bathroom and storage closet.
I owed it to him to help him put his life back together, whether I liked his idea or not. I needed to suck it up and do what I could to be helpful. “You do know that I’d be your landlord?” I winked at him, which made him laugh again, and I was enjoying it. “This floor is by the far the best. I do agree with you that an empty building invites trouble. I’d thought about getting it cleaned top to bottom and fumigated, but I hadn’t come up with a step two yet. I’m not sure what my dad will think when he gets back and finds that I’ve rented out the floors.” His in particular.
“Here’s what I propose: when your dad comes back, I’ll move out. All of his valuables and any important papers can be stored in the safe. In the meantime, if you need room to spread your paperwork out, that oak desk is big enough for us to share.”
I crossed to the window, looked down, and was surprised to see a car blow by. It was a quiet, out-of-the-way street that only attracted traffic from neighboring businesses due to being one-way with no on-ramp to the freeway.
Grey joined me. “I’m feeling adrift with all that’s happened and want to focus on what kind of a life to build going forward, not how screwed up everything is at the moment. I’ve started over before; this time should be a piece of cake—there’s a spark that wasn’t there before.” His tone expressed disgust, melancholy, and a note of hope at the end.
I wanted to offer up a witty piece of advice that would garner another laugh but didn’t have it and instead squeezed his hand. One of my phones dinged, breaking the silence. I pulled it out of my pocket, glanced at the screen, and read the message. “The man who ordered the hit just texted: ‘paid in full.’” I scrolled down the screen for an alert from the bank and there were none. I accessed the account to verify that, and sure enough, there hadn’t been a deposit. “He reneged on the final million.” I called the number back. “Disconnected.”
“Confident fellow. Must be certain that he can’t be tracked. It’s a dangerous business to hire a killer and then default. If he were dealing with a professional killer, he’d need to keep one eye open at all times.” Grey hooked his arm around me. “I’m amazed someone was willing to pay a million to have me offed.”
“So… he cheated me. That should make him happy. As far as I know, neither of us knows the identity of the other.”
Grey locked up the office. “Let’s hit up the storage unit so I can grab some clothes. Then I’ll take you out to dinner.” We walked down the stairs.
I locked up the building and got in the SUV, watching while Grey walked around the building and gave close scrutiny to the exterior. He then checked out the neighboring building on one side; not much to see at the city maintenance lot on the other.
“You’ve got two sets of glass entry doors,” he said, sliding behind the wheel. “I’m thinking getting security doors installed over them should be the first step. Not the most attractive, but it will deter criminals, who’ll move on to an easier mark.”
“I like that idea.”
Chapter Seven
The storage place was only a few miles from the office, and we made the drive in silence, each lost in thought. The unit had a combo lock, and I’d texted the code to Grey earlier, along with the address. He opened the door, and to my surprise, it looked like his possessions had been packed by professionals—everything boxed, neatly organized, and clearly marked. Grey loaded a couple of boxes into the back of the SUV.
He wanted to take me somewhere nice for dinner, which requ
ired a change of clothes, but I wasn’t interested. At least not tonight. We went back to the condo, ordered in, and once again fell asleep on the couch.
I woke early for my usual Saturday morning breakfast with Rella and Avery and texted Avery that I needed a ride, thinking it was rude to leave Grey stranded. I’d finished my coffee and was attempting to scoot off the couch when he grabbed my wrist.
“It’s early,” he said groggily.
“My friends and I have breakfast together every Saturday.”
“Hmm…” He had that cop expression, as though attempting to ferret out more information without having to ask.
“To reassure you that you’re not stuck here all day, I left a set of keys on the entry table, along with a security card.”
“Breakfast takes all day?”
“We get together to catch up, dish a little gossip, and we can talk the day away.” Now I sounded like I had something to hide, and I didn’t. “I’m off to shower.” I could feel his eyes on me as I left the room.
After showering, I sorted through my closet, choosing a bright green, paneled, sleeveless midi dress. It was perfect for what would be a sultry day, and I’d fit in with the rest of the Miami Beach crowd. Not having the patience to deal with my hair, I chose the quickest solution, scooping it off my neck and twisting it into a messy bun. I met Grey in the kitchen, and he handed me a mug of coffee. I nodded my thanks and slid onto a stool. He checked me out from head to toe and appeared irked.
“I thought you’d want to know that I sent a text to my deadbeat client: ‘Pay up or watch your back,’” I told him.
“Be interesting to see if he answers. But I don’t want you to do anything that puts you in danger. You might want to think about sleeping dogs… and all.”
I caught myself mid-eyeroll. “While you were snoring away—”
“Which I don’t do,” he said with a half-smile.
Hired Killer (Biscayne Bay Book 1) Page 4