Dangerous Testimony

by Dana Mentink

  Trust your instincts, Quidel.

  His instincts told him it was time to swallow his pride and stop hiding in the shadows. If he was wrong, he’d be mortified, and Candace would be furious. If he was right...

  Noiselessly, he got out of the truck and told Bear to fall in behind.

  * * *

  Candace stared at Rico, breathing hard over the top of the duct tape. She shouldn’t have been completely surprised. Marco had been adamant about his concern that Rico’s body hadn’t been located. Right again, Marco. Still, she found herself in a state of shock at the sight of him. Rico looked thin, his face haggard and his movements slow and stiff, as if he was in pain.

  “Didn’t think I survived the shooting?” He laughed, then winced and pressed a hand to his ribs. “I’ve been through worse than that. The irony is, the day of the shooting I was thinking of “going slick” as your navy SEAL would say, and leaving my body armor at home. But at the last minute I put it on. Saved my life, though I got plenty of broken ribs as a souvenir. Been lying low, letting things settle out.” He smiled. “How about you, baby? Enjoying things now that you’re back in your own digs?”

  She forced herself to breathe slower through her nose, though every muscle was taut with fear.

  “Don’t have anything to say?” He laughed. “That’s okay. I don’t like chatty women, anyway.” He leaned back in the chair and put one booted foot up on the bed as if they were two old friends, catching up.

  Her mind raced. What could she do to attract attention, or buy time? Distract him? How, when she was trussed and gagged? Her helplessness nearly choked her. Keep your head, Candace.

  “I can see that you’re confused about why I’m here,” he said. “After all, we’d concluded our business, hadn’t we? The trial was called off and all. Kevin Tooley, aka Fuzz, is a free man and we’ve got no beef anymore, right? So why am I here? you’re probably wondering. I mean, it was plenty of trouble to knock out the power and climb in through the window, especially with banged-up ribs.”

  Her cell phone rang on the bedside table. Let me answer it, she tried to say. To her amazement he reached toward the phone. Was he going to get it? If it was any of her sisters, they’d alert the police as soon as he got out a single word. Or maybe he would let her answer and she could somehow communicate her desperate situation.

  “Did you want to answer this?” he said, smiling. He picked up the phone and checked the caller ID. “Oh, look at that. It’s from Popeye, your sailor man.”

  Marco! Her heart leaped until she considered that he was probably calling from Mexico. Still, he would move mountains to get her help if she could only somehow let him know. She leaned toward the phone.

  “That’s nice of him to call and check on you, huh?” Rico’s eyes glittered. “You sure would like to talk to him, wouldn’t you?”

  Her breath was coming in panicked bursts now, but she tried not to show it. She pictured Marco there on the other end of the line as the rings sounded one after the other. Grinning widely, Rico held the phone to her lips and put his finger on the answer call button, another on the edge of the duct tape.

  “What am I thinking?” he said suddenly, sitting back. “You’re all tied up at the moment.” He pulled the phone away, pressed a few buttons, nodded once and tossed it into the garbage can, chuckling as her stomach plummeted.

  “Too bad. Popeye’s gonna have to leave a voice mail, ’cuz we still got business. Know why? Fuzz has gone over to the dark side now, joined up with the Cliffs, and he thinks his father is a scumbag.” Jay’s eyes locked on to hers. “Know who caused that to happen?”

  She felt her lungs constrict at the coldness in his eyes.

  “You.”

  The word shot through her like a bullet. In that moment she knew he was going to kill her. The conversation was just for his enjoyment, to prolong the pleasure like a cat toying with a trapped bird, the same way he’d behaved on the fire escape. How could she free herself without even being able to keep him talking? Frantic, she tried wriggling her hands behind her back to loosen the tape.

  Rico clucked his tongue as if he was scolding a child. “You told Kevin all about me, didn’t you? That I’m his father and that I ran down his mother.”

  She shook her head.

  “I know you talked to the doc at the clinic who treated Yolanda, and you even visited dear old granny’s apartment. You did your detective thing and put all the clues together and you told my son. Aren’t...you...clever?” He punctuated each word with a kick on the mattress that sent her wobbling.

  She felt the headboard to see if there was a sharp bit of wood or screw she might use to saw through the binding. Her pulse revved higher when she felt the end of a nail poking out through the wood. She pressed the tape against it and felt the metal punch through. Slowly she began to ease her wrists up and down in an attempt to widen the hole she’d made, or at least weaken the tape enough that she could snap it. Rico didn’t seem to notice.

  “I loved Yolanda, and I know I shouldn’t have killed her, but she was going to leave me, you know? She didn’t want our son anywhere near me. I couldn’t stand the thought of her moving on, and maybe giving my son to another man someday, so I lost it.” He shook his head. “I wish I hadn’t done it, but she shouldn’t have pushed me so far. You can’t unpour the milk, you know?”

  So it was Yolanda Tooley’s own fault she’d been murdered? Rico was disgusting, the classic abuser, but with supreme effort Candace kept the disdain from her face.

  Rico was looking at her thoughtfully. “Like I told you before, a man has to draw his battle lines, right?”

  She nodded to keep him talking, feeling the tear in the tape growing wider. Her hope grew with each millimeter.

  Rico groaned and pressed his hand to his side. “All the work I’ve done to keep that kid safe and now guess what? My own son is gunning for my life. And not just him.” Rico’s mouth tightened into a hard line. “Word is out that I’m alive, but weak, you know? All the dogs are tracking me, sniffing for my blood, and who’s leading the hunt?” He slammed a palm down on the bedside table, making her jump. “My son. My own kid wants me dead. What do you think of that?”

  A hot trickle slid down her wrist—blood from where the tape was cutting into her. With a surge of elation, she felt her hands part, but tried not to let her posture give it away. Her wrists were free, but what should her next action be? To run for the door and hope she could make it out to the street before Rico caught her? The little spurt of hope flamed higher in her heart. She’d escaped him before, and she’d do it again with God’s help. Slowly, she moved one foot closer to the edge of the bed to give herself leverage.

  Rico sat up straighter. “So I’m gonna have to show them, right? The Cliffs? My son? I’m gonna have to let them all know my territory is not for sale. I am not weak.” The curtains swayed in the breeze and more rain was propelled in, spattering them both. Rico paid it no heed. “That means no mercy, and anyone who has crossed me will wind up dead.

  “Know who is at the top of that list?” He smiled and planted his feet carefully on the floor. She froze as he took a gun from his pocket. “You, baby. You started this whole mess, and you turned my son against me. So now you’re gonna die.”

  * * *

  After receiving no answer to his call, Marco sprinted along the wet sidewalk and let himself and Bear into the backyard. He raced to the open bedroom window, standing underneath and listening. A man’s low voice carried over the rain. Didn’t matter what he was saying, Marco knew it was Rico.

  There was no time to get Lon or the cops. He was going to have to complete this mission solo. He worked his way around the house, checking doors, which he found to be locked. There was no other quick entrance. The window must be how Rico got in. Marco could force entry, but the noise would alert him, and it might be too late for Candace. Only o
ne way to go, he figured.

  “Bear, stay and watch,” he commanded.

  The dog sat immediately, heedless of the falling rain, eyes riveted on Marco as he climbed up on the air-conditioning unit and hoisted himself onto the roof. The rain made the tile surface slippery and he had to go slow. He slithered to the position just above Candace’s bedroom window. Stress was making his pulse hammer out of control, so he did some tactical breathing to slow the rampaging adrenaline. He had only one chance and he couldn’t let nerves get in the way.

  Keep talking, Rico, he willed. You’re never going to see me coming.

  He gave himself a slow count to three. Then he gripped the edge of the gutter, swung his body down over the eaves and let his momentum send him hurtling through the bedroom window.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Candace would have screamed if her mouth wasn’t taped. Her brain couldn’t quite process what she was witnessing. In a shower of glass, Marco Quidel erupted through the bedroom window. He was on his feet, diving across the room at Rico, before she had time to pull her hands from behind her back,

  Rico fired a shot that shattered the mirror above her wardrobe.

  “Get out,” Marco shouted to her, locked in a battle over Rico’s gun. A second shot took a chunk out of the wall behind her. Keeping as low as she could, she ran to the living room, hands trembling wildly as she ripped the tape off her mouth, grabbed the house phone and dialed 911, gasping out her name and address.

  “Ma’am,” the dispatcher said. “Get out of the house and wait for the police. They’re en route as we speak.”

  “I have to help him,” she panted.

  “Ma’am, exit the house immediately and wait for an officer.”

  Every nerve in Candace’s body screamed for her to follow the dispatcher’s directions and run, but she would not, could not leave Marco. She dropped the phone as the thud of bodies hitting the wall vibrated the floor under her feet. Where could she find a weapon? Her pepper spray was in the bedroom. A knife from the kitchen? She didn’t think she could manage to hold on to one, let alone use it. She grabbed the first thing she saw, a wooden chair, and ran back to the bedroom.

  Marco had his opponent up against the wall, one hand on Rico’s throat and the other pinning his gun hand. Outside, she heard Bear barking ferociously.

  “Police are on their way,” she panted. “Give it up, Rico.”

  In spite of Marco’s interference, Rico pulled the trigger. The shot arced to the metal window frame, ricocheting and skimming Marco’s shoulder. He jerked and tumbled onto his back. Rico broke from his grasp.

  She swung the chair as hard as she could, but her aim was off. Rico escaped and Marco rolled aside in time to avoid the flying furniture.

  Candace ran for the door, but Marco caught her ankle before she crossed the threshold, causing her to stumble to one knee.

  “No,” he grunted.

  “He’s not going to get away,” she said, trying to tug free, adrenaline roaring like the surf inside her. “Let me go.”

  Instead, Marco got to his feet and pushed her behind him. He stopped at the doorway and listened. Grabbing a pillow from her chair, he tossed it into the hall. The shots came immediately, a procession of hot metal that blasted the pillow to pieces.

  That would have been me, she thought, her mouth dry.

  Sirens wailed and they heard the front door flung open, the sound of running feet as Rico escaped into the night.

  Candace let out a groan of frustration.

  Marco looked at her, panting. “Hurt?”

  “No.”

  Muttering something she couldn’t catch, he returned to the window.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Gotta calm the dog down before he gets himself shot by the cops.” Marco called out the window to quiet Bear and gave him a stern stay command. Then he turned to her, still breathing hard and sweating.

  “Police are about to make entry and they’re going to be amped, so we’re not going to make any sudden moves here, okay?”

  That was easy to accomplish, as her legs were shaking so badly she could hardly stand. He picked up the overturned chair and ushered her into it. Then he sat calmly on the bed, hands splayed on the rumpled comforter so the cops could easily see he wasn’t armed.

  It was the most ridiculous scene she could imagine. Her house had been shot to pieces. Rico the dead gangster was not really dead. And Marco was sitting on the bed looking as composed as if he was waiting for a bus.

  How did you know? Why did you come? She wanted to ask, but was distracted by the sight of the blood staining his left shoulder.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “Not deep.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Just can.”

  And that was all she was likely to get out of him on the topic. “How did you know Rico was coming tonight?”

  “I didn’t.” He quirked a smile.

  “What can you possibly be smiling about?”

  “Because you brought a chair to a gunfight. I like that, except that you almost clobbered me with it.”

  A half-hysterical giggle bubbled out. “I guess I did. If I had known you were coming, I would have been more prepared.” She looked at him, still not quite believing that Marco Quidel was actually back, sitting quietly on her bed, bleeding from a shoulder wound he’d incurred while saving her life, and teasing her. “Marco, what in the world are you doing here?”

  “Tell you in a minute. Stay still. Here they come.” The floor shuddered and the room was filled with noise and activity as four police officers, guns drawn, burst into the room.

  * * *

  They assembled at the PCI office at just after midnight. Dr. Dan cleaned and taped up Marco’s shoulder and didn’t even bother to suggest that he should visit a hospital. Marco had to admit the guy was a good doctor. Donna, Angela and JeanBeth made sure he and Candace were sufficiently warm, hydrated and generally fussed over.

  Lon arrived and took his customary place slouched against the wall.

  “Police are going to investigate, but since there’s no trial, there’s no offer of police protection,” Donna said. “So I think we’re pretty much on our own this time.”

  JeanBeth frowned. “Their priorities are on the escalating gang conflict. Rico is somewhat of a rogue right now. He’s got some loyal Pack followers, but others have split off to follow this man named Big Dog. It’s a turf war.”

  “That works to our advantage, because he has to watch his back,” Marco said. “He doesn’t have his army behind him and he’s distracted.”

  “Not that distracted,” Candace said. “He made it clear he blames me for turning Kevin against him, and he won’t stop until I’m dead.”

  She sounded calm when she said it, but Marco could read the underlying tension. Still, she was keeping it together, and she was more determined than any of them to bring Rico to justice. He got an image of her hurling the chair and suppressed a smile. “Tracy is safest staying with her grandparents right now,” he said. Then he amended, “That is my opinion, I meant. Do we agree on that?”

  There were nods all around.

  “Back to the beach house?” Angela said.

  “Yes. All of us, I would suggest,” Marco said.

  Candace fiddled with her mug of tea. “To sit and wait again? For how long? Forever?”

  “No,” Marco said.

  “Why? How is this different?” she demanded.

  “Because this time we’re playing offense.”

  “What do you mean?” JeanBeth said. “How?”

  “Remember Rico’s guy Champ? The one with the missing tooth? I’ve heard he’s still in the area, and he knows all of Rico’s hiding places. He’s gonna help us find him.”

  “What if he�
�s not cooperative? He gave us up at the clinic.”

  “Maybe not. It’s possible he was really there to stop things. Either way, he knows Rico and he knows his habits. If there’s any way to get to him, Champ’s our best resource.”

  “How do we find him?” Donna demanded.

  Dan took out his cell phone and slid it across the table to Marco. “His last known address is on the screen.”

  Marco couldn’t hide his surprise.

  Dan shrugged. “I figured if you were going off on your own to capture Rico, I might as well see if I could dig up some info to help you. He’s a local boy, and I didn’t figure gang life would provide health coverage, so I checked at all the free clinics in the Long Beach and Los Angeles areas where I had some friends working. Champ had gone to one for stitches so...” He shrugged. “I called in a favor.”

  Angela’s look of shock changed to wonderment, and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  Marco allowed a smile. “You’re all right, Doc.”

  “Just trying to keep up with all these private eye and Navy SEAL types.”

  Marco looked at Lon. “This would be easier if Dev were here, too, but we’ll have to make it work. You got time tomorrow to go with me and lean on Champ?”

  Lon gave one short nod.

  “We all have time to help,” JeanBeth said.

  He didn’t argue. “All right. Make your way up to the Party Palace, but not all at once. I don’t think Rico’s got good surveillance help, since he’s on his own and Baxter isn’t feeding him information, but we’ll take care, anyway. We’ll work it through tomorrow.”

  Marco approached Candace. “Ready to go?”

  She sighed. “This all feels so terribly familiar.”

  “This time it’s going to be different.”

  “Does this mean you’re returning to PCI?” she asked.

  “Temporarily.”

  She didn’t ask anything further until they were in the truck and rolling toward Long Beach.

  “So Marco, why did you decide to come back?”