by Stark, Cindy
The ease with which he spoke of another person’s death sucked the oxygen from her lungs. Like human life had no value at all.
He needed to be erased from this world or at least put behind bars for a very long time. “Is Gideon arranging that?” She wanted to remind him that only a few minutes prior he’d been worried Gideon had turned on him, too.
Lorenzo shrugged.
“Hardy?”
His grin grew wider, but he still shrugged. “I told you I’m important to them. Learn from me. Be someone they can’t live without. That’s how to stay ahead in this business.”
She needed to take note of that. At least for the time being. She also needed to consider at which point she’d involve the authorities. If she did right now, they’d push her out of the way, tell her to stay safe.
She didn’t want safe. She wanted retribution.
Sam returned, but his expression gave away nothing. He tossed a yellow legal pad on the table in front of Lorenzo. “Write down his location. We’ll hold you until we pick up Steverson. If we find him and a prosecutable amount of heroin, you’ll be charged with assaulting an officer in the fourth degree. After some paperwork, you’ll be free to go. You’ll need to appear before a judge for sentencing.”
Lorenzo shifted his gaze to her, and she nodded. He picked up the pen and scrawled down information before handing it to the detective. Sam took it and left, not seeming particularly happy about the deal.
Eliana sat in silence for a whole five minutes before she stood.
“Where are you going?” Lorenzo frowned.
“Nowhere that’s your concern. I’ll be back when they have your paperwork ready, assuming they find what they need to clear your name.”
“They’ll find it,” he said under his breath as she exited the room.
Eliana pulled two ibuprofen from her purse and headed toward the water cooler. She couldn’t do much about the acid churning in her stomach except walk away, and she wasn’t about to do that. She’d made up her mind to see this thing through one way or the other.
“Since when are you fighting for criminals’ rights?”
She sighed at the sound of Sam’s voice behind her. “Everyone deserves due process.”
He snorted and shook his head, his eyes full of disappointment. “Never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth.”
She shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I guess you didn’t know me as well as you thought.”
He narrowed his gaze and studied her for a few unnerving seconds. “That’s just it. I do know you that well. How many cases have we worked together? We used to go to lunch a couple of times a month. This isn’t like you. I don’t see anyone holding a trigger to your head…so there must be some other motivation behind it.”
She forced a laugh. “Money? Gotta pay that rent, you know?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, seeming to go along with her explanation. “But, no. What’s up, Eliana?”
“Really, Sam. I’m not sure where you’re going with this. I can’t possibly be the only lawyer in town who represents various types of cases.” Her head throbbed from the stress, and she popped the pills in her mouth, chasing them with a cup of water.
“Okay, Eliana. If you say so. But you know if you’re ever in trouble, you can call me.” Sincerity shone from his deep brown eyes, making her yearn for a man in her life.
“Thank you.” However, she was sure his wife wouldn’t appreciate his offer. “But I’m fine. Just fine.” For now.
“Okay.” He nodded toward the interrogation rooms. “I’ll go check in with dispatch to see if they’ve located Steverson, yet. We should know something soon.”
“I’ll be out here.” She indicated a couple of chairs down the hall.
“Not hanging out with your client?” he challenged.
“I have another case I need to focus on while I wait,” she said, amazed at how easy the lie rolled off her tongue. She followed it up with a warm smile.
“Okay, then.” He hesitated for a second longer and then left.
She hated dishonesty between friends, but she couldn’t tell him everything just yet. When she had enough to nail Hardy and company, Sam would be the first person she’d call.
Chapter Twelve
Christian descended the metal stairs leading from his apartment to the ground level and then unlocked the back door to his bar. Inside, quiet darkness and the familiar scent of hops greeted him.
“Another day, another dollar,” he said into the silence and flipped on the lights. The surroundings sprang to life, and he locked the back door behind him. Ever since an ex-con had set fire to Caora Dubh in an effort to gain access to Sam’s wife, Janie, Christian had taken extra precautions to protect his belongings.
One never knew when a freak would lash out and do damage.
He continued to the front of the bar, turning on essential lighting, exposing all the flaws his customers never noticed in the dim lights during operating hours. The handcrafted, mahogany bar was the focal point of his business. He’d served many customers, some happy, some sad, at the bar he’d fashioned himself. Over the years as his business had become more lucrative, he’d updated stools and flooring, adding a small stage for the band he hired on weekends, but the actual wooden bar had never changed. It was the foundation, the heart of his business, and it would always remain.
“Hey,” a female voice called from the back.
“Up front, Nicole,” he responded and turned to wait for Xander’s wife to make her way to him. She had come to work for Caora Dubh back when Xander had needed someone to keep an eye on their possible felon, Nicole. Turns out, she truly was as innocent as she was sweet, and Xander had stolen her heart before any of the rest of the guys could think to make a move.
“There you are.” Nicole grinned, her friendly eyes sending a shaft of sunshine to warm his chilled heart. She’d swept her brown hair up into a ponytail like she usually did when she worked, and she wore one of his bar’s t-shirts featuring an animated black sheep. “I have to admit, your cryptic message to show up for work an hour early has piqued my curiosity.”
He chuckled. “Sorry about that. Don’t worry. It’s nothing exciting. Just needed help with inventory.” Instead of heading to the backroom, he turned on the sound system and tuned the music to a local pop station. Then he motioned for her to join him at one of the tables in the center of the great room, earning a worried look from her. He had no idea if Hardy’s men would bug his place, too. He highly doubted it, but he wasn’t taking chances at this point. Not when they were on the verge of a long-awaited breakthrough.
“Now you’re scaring me, Christian,” Nicole said in a hushed voice.
He shook his head to reassure her. “It’s only a precaution.” He quietly filled her in on the details of becoming ingratiated with his brother, his new feminine acquaintance, and the surveillance that apparently came attached.
Nicole’s eyes grew rounder as he talked. “Are they watching us now?”
“I suspect they’ve watched us since my brother hired her. I haven’t met with any of the guys, only talked on the phone to Hunter once. That could be a vulnerable point for us, but I’m hoping not. Either way, I need to limit contact. I’d prefer to go directly through you when I need to deliver a message. No one will question you coming to work every day. You’ve been working here for over a year, and we never talk about the organization in front of anyone.”
Nicole frowned. “I’m happy to pass along any messages. You all saved me, and I’m forever indebted, but I worry about you not having personal contact with them.”
If that was her only concern, they’d be fine. “Don’t. It’s going to be a pain in the ass more than an issue. If either side has an urgent message, we’ll find another way to communicate.”
“Okay.” She glanced around the bar. “Is that it? You asked me to come in an hour early for a ten-minute conversation? I could have slept in.” A hint of teasing glinted in her eyes making him laugh.
“I was prepared to pay you for an extra hour of work where we did nothing but hang out, but since you mentioned it, I think we will start on inventory. Someone has been slacking, and the count is off.”
“Not me,” she said with a grin. “It must be you. My accounting is impeccable.”
He stood, grateful for his friendships and newfound family. If he had continued in the same vein as his blood family, he would have never experienced true brotherhood and love. “We’ll see about that.”
* * *
Eliana emerged from the police station with her stomach churning and a raging headache. Self-loathing poured through her like hot lava, scorching her, turning her emotions into a sick pile of disgust.
Helping a female client identify her attacker should have left her feeling exhilarated. Instead, she couldn’t help remember the last time she’d exited the building when she’d help free the man who’d killed Howard.
She stopped and leaned against the outside of the gray brick building, inhaling several deep breaths, hoping they’d calm her.
They didn’t.
What she did from here on out wouldn’t bring back her friend, she reminded herself. Her actions now were to prevent further deaths and pain, she repeated over and over. Still, it didn’t help.
Nothing would repair the aching pain inside her.
She pushed away from the bricks and began walking. The late afternoon was overcast and muggy, matching her mood. She walked as recent events ran like rabid dogs through her mind.
First, Hardy. Rough, frightening, commanding. Then representing Lorenzo. A cold-hearted killer. Though she hadn’t seen him in action, she had no doubt Hardy was ten times as vicious.
And here she was, entangling her life with the two of them. She must be certifiable.
Or…pissed.
She grasped onto that feeling with all her might. Enough was enough. These people had hurt far too many, and they needed to be stopped.
She halted when she reached the cement wall that prevented her from falling into the Willamette River. She’d walked the entire distance between the police station and the park where Howard had lived, and it hadn’t been far enough.
She glanced around at the dirty, leery faces watching her from the cement wall across the walkway.
Once, she’d found a friend there. Now, nothing.
Hot tears formed in her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. She couldn’t show weakness, not to these hardened street people. They would jump on her like vultures trying to find a meal just to stay alive.
A hulking figure with long brown hair walking away caught her attention. Victor. She hurried toward him, not knowing what she’d say, but needing to talk to him. He was her last connection to Howard, and she couldn’t let go.
“Victor!”
At the sound of his name, he slowed and turned. “Princess.”
A pang of loss burrowed deep into her soul. “Hi, Victor,” she said as she caught up to him and stopped, breathless. “How are you?”
He perused his surroundings as though they would give him the answer and then shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
“Like everyone else, I suppose.” Sometimes, it didn’t matter if one had money or not. Life could be shitty either way. “I’m sorry to bother you. I guess I was missing Howard.”
He nodded. “You must be having a bad day.”
She drew her brows together. “Why do you say that?”
“I can see it in your face. Your eyes aren’t as sparkly as normal, and Howard said you’d come down here when you had good news or bad news. Don’t look like good news to me.”
She wanted to deny it, to keep her feelings hidden, but she couldn’t any longer. She needed to share with someone, and Victor was the closest person who might understand. “After we talked the other day, I stopped by that bar. I think I saw who killed Howard.” She flicked her gaze to his deep brown eyes, watching for a reaction.
“Them’s dangerous people, princess. Look what happened to Howard, and he didn’t even do nothing. Just wrong place, wrong time.”
“Because he could identify one of the drug dealers.” She didn’t need him to answer the question. She already knew. “Have you ever heard of brown Mexican heroin? New stuff on the streets?”
He gave a barely perceptible nod.
“But you don’t want to talk about it.”
He slowly shook his head.
“Because you’re afraid of them, too?”
“Because they is dangerous people, and I don’t want to know their business. I’m just minding mine.” He glanced about the park as though talking to her made him nervous.
“I understand.” She didn’t want to do anything that would put him at risk, either. Hardy had made it evident he had eyes on her. “I should go. I really only wanted to say hi and to make sure you were okay.”
He cracked a crooked smile. “Doin’ good, princess. You keep doing the same. You stay away from those people, too.”
Heaviness settled on her heart. “I’m not sure I can, Victor. I’ve been given a rare opportunity to possibly help put Howard’s killers behind bars. I can’t walk away from it.”
“He wouldn’t want you to get hurt ‘cause of him. I know that.” His gentle eyes reassured her of this truth.
She shifted on her feet, finally feeling the effects of gallivanting across town in her heels. “But don’t you think that those who can make a difference should?”
He dropped his gaze to the sidewalk and pondered her question for a moment before refocusing on her. “Reminds me of a conversation I had with a buddy back in Vietnam. We got caught in some vicious firing and were hunkered down. He started questioning what we was doing there and why we might have to die for people we didn’t even know. I told him the same thing you said. I told him ‘cause we were the guys who could help. Can’t send an old lady or a baby to fight. We was young and strong, and God almighty had chosen us. It’s how it had to be.”
“Yes, that’s it exactly.” She couldn’t walk away. Not when she could protect so many innocent people.
He chuckled, the deep, rumbling sound taking her by surprise. “Never thought I’d see a lady soldier dressed in high heels and a skirt. But you’re a hero just like those guys I fought with.”
Tears jumped to her eyes. She didn’t want gratitude, only absolution for failing her brother and revenge against those who hurt others like her parents had, like Lorenzo and Hardy. “No, you’re the hero. I’m just a tool.”
He glanced over her. “One badass, beautiful tool.”
She snorted and shook her head, but grinned. “Thanks, Victor.” She turned to leave, but then stopped. “We’re friends now. Would it be okay if I brought you cookies sometime?”
“Chocolate chip?”
The smile on his face lightened her heart. “If that’s what you like.”
“On one condition, then. You don’t get hurt. Do what you gotta to help people, but don’t get hurt when you’re doing it.”
She nodded, feeling so much better than she had earlier. “Deal.”
Chapter Thirteen
After circling the block a few times, Christian finally found an empty space along the street near Gideon’s. He hadn’t heard from his brother in a couple of days. Any other time in his life, he would have been grateful. Gideon was a bottom dweller, a parasite who’d suck his own flesh and blood dry without a second thought.
But now, when he and the guys had a viable thread that led directly to Angel, which in turn was connected to Donati, Christian had to keep the link strong. That meant showing up at Gideon’s bar and sucking up to his brother.
He’d do it, though. If it would put an end to the damage his family wreaked on society, and if it would give him some sort of absolution for his own crimes, he’d damn well spill his own blood, if necessary. He couldn’t think of anything else that might save him from this burning ache in his soul.
Except for those fleeting moments in Eliana’s arms, when her love had carried him away
from the heavy weight of his guilt. Unfortunately, bringing an end to Donati would also remove her from his life. He wasn’t sure he could bear to see her go, but he didn’t have a choice.
Wrong was wrong.
Even if wrong smelled like sweet summer blossoms and took him to heaven.
He checked his rearview mirror, and, when it was clear, flung open the car door. At best, he might be lucky enough to see her one more time before this all came crashing down. He prayed for that even though he shouldn’t.
As he stepped upon the sidewalk and neared Gideon’s bar, rough hands grabbed him from behind and shoved him against the brick building.
“What the fuck?” he ground out as he used the full strength of his body weight to push back. It barely budged whoever held him.
“Portland P.D. We’ve been instructed to bring you in for questioning in the murder of Jameson Steverson.”
Jameson Steverson? One of Gideon’s lackeys?
Icy disbelief gripped him. Fuck. Had Gideon or Hardy somehow set him up to take the fall for Steverson’s death? He wouldn’t put it past them. In his previous life, one never knew when the supposed trusted people around him would throw him under the bus.
Nevertheless, he knew well enough to cooperate and not speak again until he’d lawyered up. Would Eliana come if he called her?
A few minutes later, the officers ushered Christian into the downtown central precinct. He glanced about, looking for Sam, hoping to give him a heads-up, as they led him down a hallway. The officers left him handcuffed in a small room that looked much like an interrogation room minus the one-way mirror.
He released a deep breath and shook his head. How the hell did shit like this sneak up on him? Had he not been paying close enough attention? Had he let Eliana distract him too much?
He buried his hands in his hair as an unbearable thought lit inside him.