by L. K. Hill
What the hell had Supra gotten herself into this time?
The thought made his insides twist, so he pushed it away, and bent to examine the body once more.
Chapter 3
The wind blew through the projects and hit Kyra with a soft sighing sound. It was anything but peaceful. She wished Josie’s sister and brother-in-law would show up already. Not just because she wanted to move on with her plan, and not because she felt anxious, though she had cause to. No, it was because at times like these, when she was waiting alone for something to happen, the city felt loneliest to her.
Sitting in the shadow of the huge tree beside the park, Kyra told the wind to mind its own business and did her best to focus on the night’s gamble. She’d been hunching here for half an hour, waiting to see the headlights of Josie’s family’s SUV in the distance. When the car paused at the STOP sign, she would put her plan into action. Time to get Josie’s attention. Tonight might be the night she finally managed to infiltrate the Sons of Ares gang. Kyra prayed a silent plea that it would work.
Clyde, a rough, mercenary type who would do just about anything for a little extra cash, readily agreed to help her. In fact, when she explained what she wanted, his grin had nearly split his face in two. “Uh,” his eyes shifted from side to side, “yeah I’ll do that.” In anyone else such exuberance would have worried her. Not in Clyde. She’d seen him work. Just because he had fun didn’t mean he was careless. She didn’t trust anyone more to help her carry out seedy labor. Not that he wouldn’t turn on her for the right amount of money, but she’d established a business relationship with him not long after arriving in Abstreuse. Sadie had introduced them, and Kyra paid him to help her with random jobs and for information. For the right number of greenbacks, Clyde would tell her everything he knew.
Sitting under the tree, she didn’t see Clyde, but she had no doubt he could see her. He’d probably gotten into place well before she arrived. Chances were he watched her from some shadowy alcove her eyes couldn’t penetrate, giggling to himself because he could see her and she couldn’t see him. The thought made her want to roll her eyes.
She leaned back against the tree, securing her phone against her thigh. She couldn’t have it in her hand when the SUV showed up. It was just after midnight, so it might be an hour or more before it did, depending on how long Josie’s family visited with him, but she needed to be ready in case tonight’s visit was short.
She sighed, peering into the darkness. Her thoughts turned to the events two nights before at the warehouse. She’d found a small, hidden entrance into the huge warehouse and watched it for more than an hour. Deciding it wasn’t a highly used entrance—cobwebs and rust abounded over the door’s hinges—she’d slipped silently through it, only to find four large men, including the two she’d heard arguing about Manny, staring at her. They’d chased her not only out of the building, but out of the warehouse district all together. The two who’d stayed on her were fast, and knew the Slip Mire almost as well as she did. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to shake them.
When she tripped on a sleeping drunk, they’d caught her and thrown her up against a dumpster. One of them punched her in the ribs hard enough to make her wonder if she’d be able to get away. Luckily, she’d seen the narrow alley ahead and made a beeline for it, knowing it would be harder for her male pursuers to push through it. She’d been so focused on keeping her head down and staying ahead of them that she hadn’t noticed the light up ahead. Somehow, she’d run right into Gabe Nichols’ arms.
Kyra shook her head, her face heating at the memory. Why did he always have to show up when she most needed help, looking so damn masculine in all the right ways? She’d told him six weeks ago to leave her to her grim work, and she’d meant it. The last thing she needed was Gabe seeing the kind of danger she put herself in all the time. A decent guy like him would worry. And she didn’t want his worry. Of course she didn’t. She didn’t want or need it.
Given his expression when she’d run through his crime scene, he’d definitely made the connection between “Supra” and Tanya Roberts, the name she’d given him before. The way his gaze bored into hers said he knew who she really was.
She couldn’t believe she’d run dead into a crime scene. Bad choice of thoughts. It was a murder scene. And the victim…was Marna. Kyra had seen that blue-sequined top on her way to Josie’s that night, and the woman must have been killed shortly thereafter. For two days, Kyra had been wracking her brain, trying to remember what she’d glimpsed down that alley.
Because of the flashy sequins, her eyes had been drawn to Marna. She’d hardly noticed the man. He’d been shirtless. She was certain of that much. His back had been to her, so there was no making out features. Dark hair, she would have said, but again, it was too murky to see any kind of color. The red light of the Slip Mire could play tricks with colors. He’d have to be tall. Marna had been tall, and wearing stiletto heels to boot. The man’s height had matched Marna’s, if not over-topped it. And he was muscular, well-built. If he hadn’t been, she probably wouldn’t have even registered his lack of shirt. Pathetic on her part, perhaps, but still true.
She sighed, thinking of Mallory’s murder several weeks before. Sadie had seen the killer. She’d said he’d been tall, muscular, probably wearing a woman’s wig. It didn’t particularly sound like the same guy, but Kyra couldn’t help but wonder if there was a connection. In any other place, one would have to be an idiot not to suspect a connection between two hookers killed in the same part of town—only blocks apart, actually—but this was the Slip Mire, murder capital of the country. From what Kyra knew, chances were actually better that the two working girls were killed by different johns. That much violence really did exist in this city.
Headlights appeared in the distance, the right size and distance from the ground. Kyra jumped to her feet and stepped behind the tree, pulling her dark hood down over her eyes. She’d worn her blackest clothing tonight. Her Supra makeup had been fully and carefully applied. This had to go perfectly or she would lose her chance to infiltrate the gang through Josie.
As the car drew near, she recognized the shape and color. It was them: Josie’s brother-in-law and sister and their two kids. Kyra took several slow, deep breaths to calm herself, and whispered one more prayer.
The SUV pulled up to the stop sign and the driver paused, his head swiveling first in one direction, then the other. Kyra waited, heart pounding.
“Get out of the car!” The deep masculine voice, unmistakably Clyde’s, came from the direction of the stop sign. The squeak of the car door being yanked open reached her ears simultaneously. Though her heart pounded harder, Kyra breathed easier. She’d had a moment of panic when she wasn’t sure Clyde would show. She peeked around the tree trunk in time to see Clyde, dressed in dark clothes and a ski mask that made him indistinguishable from any other shadow looming in the park, yank the man out.
Terrified screeches, surprisingly soft in the quiet night, reached her ears, and Kyra pushed down a pang of guilt. She wished there weren’t two children involved in this. She’d taken pains to make sure there was no danger to any of Josie’s family, but they didn’t know that. She was still guilty of instigating a plan that terrorized them emotionally. Gritting her teeth, she squashed the guilt ruthlessly. This had to be done if she was ever going to find Manny.
“Wallet and car keys!” Clyde yelled, his deep voice rumbling against the silence like a demon’s. “Faster, if you value your family!” His deep, booming voice sounded demonic.
Taking a deep breath, Kyra stepped out from behind the tree. She doubted anyone in the SUV would notice her right away, but she walked toward them aggressively anyway. “Hey,” she yelled in her best angry-girl voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
Clyde had yanked Josie’s brother-in-law out of the car and shoved him up against the side of the SUV, pressing his forearms into the man’s neck to pin him there. Not releasing the man, he turned his head to regard Kyra as she
stalked toward him. “Get lost, Bitch. This is no business of yours.”
“I live here, don’t I?” she yelled, hoping she sounded irate enough. “I make it my business when entitled punks pull decent people out of their cars in the middle of the night!” She came to stand beside him as the wailing from inside the car intensified. She gazed purposely over at them, widening her eyes. “There are children in the back seat! What the hell is wrong with you?” She lunged at him, shoving him hard with both hands. In reality, it probably wouldn’t have been enough force to move him if the situation were real, but Clyde’s eyes widened, as if in surprise, and he staggered backward, releasing the driver.
As soon as he regained his balance, his eyes darkened convincingly. “You asked for it, bitch—” He pulled a blade from the back of his pants, a homemade shank they’d decided on the day before. The blade was utterly dull, though the family wouldn’t know that. It still glinted menacingly in the moonlight.
The minute the blade appeared, Kyra reached under her hoodie and pulled her handgun, pointing it dead at Clyde’s chest. She’d told him it would not be loaded, which was a lie. She didn’t unload her gun for anyone, not even Clyde. The safety was on, though, so there was no chance he’d get hurt.
At seeing the gun, Clyde froze. The hand holding the shank dropped to his side, though he didn’t put it away. He stared at her for long seconds, looking menacing. Finally, he glanced away. When he looked back, his eyes, peering out from the ski-mask, were angry, but also resigned. “Fine. You want their haul so bad, Bitch, you take it.” He raised the shank and pointed it at her. “But I’ll remember this.”
“You do that,” she growled.
He took several tentative steps backward, glaring harder with each one. When he was far enough away, he turned and ducked into the shadows, disappearing.
Kyra turned sympathetic eyes on the driver. He leaned against the side of his car, breathing deeply, his face pale in the darkness. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He swallowed, but nodded slowly. “Yes.” His eyes dropped to her gun and she made a show of uncocking it, messing with the safety, and then hastily tucking it behind the waistband of her dark pants, pulling the hoodie over it.
The man cast a wary look at her, then turned to comfort his wife and children in the car. She gave them a few minutes together and, soon enough, the children began to calm, though their mewling didn’t cease altogether. Finally, the driver turned back to her.
“Is there someone I can call for you?” she asked. This was the pivotal moment. If his response was No thanks. We’ll just go, then all this would have been for nothing.
The driver eyed her suspiciously, then shook his head. “I’ll do it. You stay right where you are.” He’d already retrieved his phone and was pushing buttons.
Plastering a mildly worried expression onto her face, Kyra put her hand over the phone. He slowly raised his head, arching an eyebrow at her. “Not the cops, right?”
His eyes took on a knowing cast. He was making deductions about her. Slowly, he shook his head. “No cops. My brother-in-law. He doesn’t live far. Just came from his place. He’ll take care of this.”
Kyra nodded, flashing him a brief, relieved smile, and took her hand from his phone. She waited while he made the call. He talked in such hushed tones, she only heard snatches of what he said, but she didn’t need to hear it. What she needed was for Josie to come. She didn’t want to seem too eager.
The man hung up the phone a minute later. “He’ll be here in five.” He looked her up and down, taking in her dark clothes, black spiky hair, and pale skin, before extending a hand. “I’m Seth.”
She glanced down at his hand, making sure he saw her hesitate, before taking it. She made sure to grip it firmly when she did. “Supra.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You may have saved my family’s life.”
“I doubt that,” she said quickly. “He didn’t even have a gun. A simple criminal, probably just after money.”
“Even so,” Seth said. “If he’d had the balls to take my keys, we might’ve been left exposed here. And my children are with me.”
Kyra tried to stay still, hoping to keep him from reading her body language. “This isn’t my favorite part of the city either.”
“Thought you said you lived here,” he said quietly. An intelligent man. He was gathering what information on her he could. Information to give his brother-in-law, no doubt.
“Haven’t been here long,” she answered. “Happened to be in this neighborhood, looking for work.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of work would that be?”
“I’m no street doll. Beyond that, whatever pays best.”
One of the children—the boy, she thought—began to wail louder, though his mother had him on her lap. Seth leaned into the car to speak to him, and the boy quieted after a few minutes. The guilt in Kyra’s chest reared its head again, but she crushed it.
Headlights appeared in the distance, quickly growing larger, and Kyra stepped back from the SUV to get a better look.
Seth’s hand lanced out and clamped around her wrist, as though afraid she would bolt. “You stay put.” It wasn’t a request. After a moment, she nodded, and he released her arm.
It wasn’t one car, coming toward them. It was three full-sized SUVs. What followed was a scene that reminded her of an old mafia film. All the doors on all the cars opened simultaneously and out stepped a dozen tall, ominous-looking men. If they didn’t wear black leather like one would expect of mobsters, they all sported hard, menacing looks and their clothing bulged in places that made it obvious they each carried multiple weapons.
The danger of the situation had gone from fabricated to factual. If Josie didn’t want her to leave, she wasn’t going anywhere. The man himself stepped out a moment later, jogging to his brother-in-law’s car. His waist-length dreadlocks swung as he ran. Opening the passenger side door, he put a slender arm around Seth’s wife—his sister—speaking in low, comforting tones. A bald, tree-like man herded her and her children back toward one of the SUVs, while Josie gave instructions to his other men. Kyra caught phrases like, “you drive” and “home safe.”
Seth walked around to the back of his car and put his head together with Josie. They spoke quietly for several minutes, casting periodic looks up at Kyra. Finally, Josie approached. She stood up straighter, heart fluttering. This had to go well. It had to. Josie stood in front of her, making her feel boxed against the car, and she got her first close-up look at him. His features were narrow, but he had wide eyes. The whites had a vaguely yellow tint to them. His brow looked perpetually pinched and, though he was lean and lanky, he stood head and shoulders above her. He radiated a wiry kind of strength that, in its way, was more intimidating than that of bulkier men.
“My brother-in-law told me what you did do for him,” he said in his heavy Caribbean accent. “For my family.” He gave a subtle bow of his head. “You have my gratitude.”
She inclined her head. “Of course.” She didn’t look back up at him, but could feel his eyes sizing her up.
“Not many would have bothered,” he said. “Why did you?”
Kyra told herself to be calm. She shrugged.
Josie stepped closer, until she couldn’t ignore him. She peeked up timidly to find him gazing down at her. “Dere must be a reason. Tell me what it is.”
Kyra swallowed ostentatiously. “I’ve seen people get hurt in attacks like this one. It…isn’t right.”
She glanced up in time to see Josie’s eyebrows reach for his hairline, and hoped she’d played her cards right. The silence stretched and sweat tickled the backs of her knees, but she didn’t dare say anything else until he did.
“Seth does also tell me you were in dis neighborhood working. I know most of da work dat goes on here. What were you doing?”
She gave Seth, who’d come to stand at Josie’s shoulder, an angry look. “What I actually said was that I’m here looking for work. It fe
ll through.”
“Be careful, Chil’” Josie said, eyes darkening. “You do tread in deep waters, now.”
Kyra lowered her eyes, as if sufficiently chastised.
“Dis work, how did it…fall through?” His shrewd eyes scrutinized her, searching for lies.
She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. “I was supposed to meet someone. He didn’t show. I’m not sure exactly what he wanted me to do, but he promised cash, so I came.”
“And you…still do be looking for a job,” Josie said. It wasn’t a question.
She met his eyes, keeping her face still. “Yes.”
Where he’d been hunching before, peering down at her, he leaned back now, straightening his spine. “I don’t usually hire de women. I fin’ them less…capable dan men.”
Kyra straightened her spine as well and raised her chin a degree. She kept her expression fierce and her eyes locked on his. “I make my own way just fine. I never asked you for a job. I just happened by.” She glanced at the SUV. “If you have nothing more to say to me, I’ll be on my way.” She raised her eyebrow to make the last statement something of question.
Josie stared at her for a full thirty seconds before speaking again. “Do you know where I live?”
“I’ve heard generally, but I’ve never been there,” she lied. Her fingers twitched, as they always did when she lied.
Josie nodded. “Seth will tell you how to get dere. Come three nights from now, aroun’ midnight. I won’t hire you yet but I’ll give you a smole job. If you do perform it well, we’ll talk about more…gainful employment.”
“I appreciate that,” she said evenly.
“Don’t,” he answered. “Your service to my family has earned you a trial run, nothing more. You will prove to me dat I can’t possibly do wit’out you, if you want to work for me.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” He turned and gave Seth a meaningful look before walking back to his SUV.
Seth gave her instructions in quiet tones, and then she turned to leave. “Hey.”