‘Not from here,’ Ivy said. ‘But talking of the beach, I think I’ll go for a swim in the pool, then I’ll whip up something for lunch, does that suit everyone?’
She was draining the water from the sink and drying her hands, but didn’t wait for responses. Ivy went back upstairs to her bedroom and flopped face first onto the bed. This experience was draining her already, and Dax had only been gone for an hour.
As soon as Dax got into the car, Serg updated him. Late last night, Mauri had called Serg to fill him in on their new arrangement. Having Serg on the case was reassuring, Mauri had chosen a point man who Dax could trust. On the downside, Serg didn’t excel at taking initiative, so Dax would have to drive this wagon.
That being said, when they pulled up outside an apartment block about an hour after leaving the beach house, Serg spoke with authority.
‘Winlow’s in there, top floor,’ Serg said, leaning forward to peer out of the top of the windshield. ‘Least that’s what we’ve been told.’
‘Told?’
‘He’s wanted by the law,’ Serg said, sitting back. ‘No one’s seen him in the flesh for a while. But you know Winlow, if there’s a memo going around the ganglands, his name will be at the top.’
‘What do the cops want him for?’
‘Knocked up some bitch then beat the kid out of her, that’s what I’ve been told anyway. Her body was found in the park a few blocks down, she was fucked up.’
So he’d killed his girlfriend and the baby she carried. Too many men in his acquaintance were pricks to the women in their lives and it made Dax sick. Then again, he could go and find himself a fight if Ivy was getting on his nerves, maybe that was an outlet that he took for granted.
‘Let’s sit for a minute, see if anyone goes in or out,’ Dax said.
Winlow’s associates were recognisable, if they were going in or out then Dax would have confirmation that Winlow was present. Taking his time, he wanted to be sure there weren’t a dozen guys up there ready to ambush him. Although Serg carried a weapon and Dax was one, he didn’t feel like working up a sweat on his first meeting of the day, and he planned for this to be the first of many.
He’d talk to all the scumbags that he had to in order to find out who had Ivy in their sights. The sooner they could eradicate the danger, the better.
‘How is Ivy doing?’ Serg asked. ‘Is she dealing or are you stuck on the couch?’
‘The couch? My female doesn’t pull that shit.’
Ivy had never kicked him out of their bed, she would call him out on whatever issue she had with him before she would sulk and refuse to share her body or her bed with him.
‘Lucky guy, I know a lot of women who would punish their guy for getting them into a mess like this.’
Dax didn’t need the reminder that this was his fault. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure it was because of their relationship that Ivy was in the crosshairs. She had no associations of her own in this part of the country, so that left it on his shoulders. If he didn’t figure this out, he could lose her, and he’d have no one to blame but himself.
‘Come on,’ Dax said, unclicking his seatbelt. ‘Let’s just get this over with.’
Dwelling on how they’d gotten here didn’t solve anything, and he was more in the mood for a fight now. Striding toward the apartment entrance, Dax walked inside and ran up the stairs taking them two at a time. Usually, he saved this kind of zeal for when he was being paid. But the payment he wanted today, his wife’s safety, was far more valuable than any green.
Serg wasn’t as quick up the stairs, so Dax had to wait because he didn’t know which of the craphole apartments belonged to Winlow. Last he’d heard Winlow had made it big, he’d taken his poker addiction to professional levels. But the broken doors and graffiti covered internal walls didn’t suggest he was still languishing in the dough. Either the girlfriend had spent it, or Winlow had developed another vice that sapped his winnings. At these kinds of extremes, Dax would guess drugs were that vice, which might explain why Winlow had wigged out and killed his girlfriend.
Serg pointed at a door, and Dax didn’t bother to knock and ask politely for Winlow. He marched forth and lifted a foot to kick the door in with one swift blow. Modern open-plan layouts made it easy to make an entrance. One window was boarded up but the others were uncovered so there was plenty of light for Dax to pick out Winlow’s stocky figure seated on the brown leather couch next to a skinny brunette who was wearing too much makeup for this time of day.
She squealed and leapt to her feet, but Dax held out a hand. ‘You just sit down, sweetheart, no one’s gonna touch you.’ He managed enough of a smile to bend the brunette’s knees and she fell back down to the couch. When she was resting easy, Dax switched on his glare and fixed it on Winlow. ‘You’re the one who we want squealing.’
With two paces, Dax grabbed a handful of Winlow’s shirt, right under his throat. Twisting his wrist and flexing his bicep, he lifted Winlow out of the seat and turned to throw him against the wall behind a perpendicular armchair.
The brunette squeaked and in his periphery Dax saw her rise from the couch. ‘Keep an eye on her,’ Dax said to Serg, he didn’t want some crazy woman trying to beat on him while he was having a conversation.
‘You got it,’ Serg said.
Winlow squawked when Dax bent down to lift him up off the floor with two hands. ‘I think you know why we’re here,’ he said to Winlow.
‘I… No… I…’
This kind of response was normal. It took people a minute or two to reorient themselves from calmly watching the television to having their head kicked in. If the bubbles of heat spinning and erupting beneath his skin were anything to go by, Dax was in need of a little action this morning, so he would take his time.
‘I’ve been told different,’ Dax said.
Winlow was in his thirties. His thinning hair and weathered face were a manifestation of the wrong choices he’d made and the struggles he’d had throughout his life, but they weren’t Dax’s concern. Things were going to get much worse for Winlow in a hurry if he thought about stonewalling.
Dax let go of his prey, which made him stagger. Balling his fist, Dax smacked the guy across the chops and sent him to the floor again. Winlow gagged and coughed, spraying blood over the back of his chair. But Dax crouched, propping his elbows on his knees, ignoring the crimson droplets.
‘You got a thing for brunettes?’ Dax asked.
‘Don’t fucking touch her!’ Winlow exclaimed, spitting out more blood.
‘Protective sonofabitch, are you? I can identify with that. See, I’ve got a pretty brunette of my own and word is that she’s not in a position of security and that concerns me… I’m sure that you can understand.’
As Winlow flopped back against the wall under the boarded up window, he wiped the back of his hand over his chin to mop up the trail of blood that had slunk out of his lips. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, you don’t, huh?’ Dax asked, cracking his knuckles. ‘I heard you did. I heard you knew exactly who was trying to harm my girl… I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy, I think it’s up to a man to protect his woman, but I guess that’s a concept that’s lost on you. I’m gonna be fair on you though, Winlow, and I’m gonna give you a choice, how does that sound?’ Winlow nodded and clutched at his jaw. ‘Either, I can believe that you do know more than you’re telling me now and keep beating you until you tell me what I want to know—‘
‘Don’t hurt him!’ the brunette wept, but Dax didn’t bother to rise and look over the chair to see her, he just stayed right here, crouched by Winlow’s sagging form.
‘Or I can believe that you’re telling me the truth and that you don’t know anything.’
‘I don’t!’ Winlow mumbled, the swelling in his mouth slurred his words.
‘Ok,’ Dax nodded and rose to his feet, pulling the cell phone from his pocket. ‘What’s the address here, Serg?’
‘What ar
e you doing?’ Winlow asked.
‘You’re a wanted man, Winlow. What kind of citizen of this fair city would I be if I didn’t let the law know I’d found a fugitive? You’re FTA, aren’t you? That’s serious shit not to show up to court when you’re wanted for murder.’
‘No,’ Winlow said, using the chair and the wall to steady himself, he clambered up to his feet. ‘Don’t call the police, I… I’ll tell you, ok? I… I don’t know much of anything.’
‘Why don’t you start with what you want to tell me and then we’ll move onto the details,’ Dax said, sticking his phone back into his pocket.
‘Yeah, ok, I heard I… we had a card game, I was at a card game and… I heard it from a… I heard five hundred grand for her head, that’s all I know.’
‘All you know?’ Dax asked. Sweeping his forearm around, he thrust Winlow against the wall. ‘Who was at this card game?’
‘Just three of us, me and Benny and… The Greyhound, that was it.’
‘That was it,’ Dax said, glancing back at Serg who was still in front of the brunette, Serg shrugged indicating he was happy enough with that information, but Dax wasn’t satisfied. ‘Who spoke? I want you to tell me exactly what was said.’ Dax had to know how they identified Ivy to know what people were looking for when they sought her out.
‘It was… it was The Greyhound, he was… he said he’d heard talk that was all, he didn’t say who told him.’
‘What did he say?’ Dax demanded, pulling the guy forward to slam him to the wall.
‘Just… just that there was a bounty out, told us how much, told us… he said, she… brunette, big tits, married to the Ravager, that was it.’
‘That was it?’
‘Yeah… yeah, that was it. But come on man, I’m not gonna touch your girl I’m holed up here, I can’t go fucking anywhere, I’m stuck here. Your girl is safe—‘
‘From you maybe,’ Dax said, giving him another shove then letting him slither down the wall. ‘Piece of advice, if you’re going to skip bail then you haul ass out of the state, don’t hang out in your buddy’s old place and hope no one thinks to look…’ Retreating, Dax nodded at Serg. ‘Let’s go.’
He and Serg left the apartment, and Dax was preoccupied again, the Ravager. The Greyhound was a skinny guy who was known for his addiction to long distance running and chasing tail, hence how he got the moniker. Dax didn’t have any beef with him, they didn’t associate, but what was more interesting was that he was referred to by his fighting name.
Benny frequented the circuit, so did Winlow when he was making money from his gambling. But as far as Dax knew The Greyhound had never been to a fight. He would know about Dax’s ties to the Starks because he did some couriering for the family in his younger years. But if The Greyhound used Dax’s fighting name that meant that whoever had told him about the contract had used it.
They might not know exactly who the source of this issue was, but they’d just narrowed it down. Whoever was doing this knew of Dax from the fighting circuit. Ivy had never been to any of his fights, so he had his confirmation that this bounty was his fault.
‘Where to now?’ Serg asked when they got back to the car.
‘We track down The Greyhound.’
‘We can go to Benny,’ Serg said.
Finding Benny was always easy, he didn’t stay in one place for long, but he had never heard of discretion and practically announced himself in every room he walked into. Benny had various contacts but little respect, it was doubtful that he had been used as a middle man. The Greyhound, on the other hand, may be the guy Dax was looking for. Easily recognizable but discreet, yes, he would make a good go-to guy. At the very least Dax could squeeze him for information, if he had to trace this trail man-by-man, then he would.
But there was something else he could do, he could get himself a fight. If people were looking for the Ravager’s girl, then he had to get himself on a bill somewhere. Most guys would assume that he would bring his brunette, which of course, he wouldn’t. But Dax could try to track interested parties if he got them all together in one room, and there was a chance one of them would slip up and say something to give himself away and if they did, Dax would be ready.
Though if he were going to find himself a fight tonight then he’d have to get back to Ivy this afternoon. His promise to return that night and not find a fight was one he’d have to go back on now, which meant he’d have to assuage her snit. More than happy to do that, because it meant getting naked with her, the remaining buzz from upstairs fostered his need to seek out some private time with his wife after their next stop.
‘Let’s check out The Greyhound,’ Dax said. ‘You know where to find him?’
Serg nodded and turned the car at the next junction to take them toward The Greyhound’s place, which it turned out was less than ten minutes’ drive away.
As soon as they got to The Greyhound’s apartment Dax knew that they were too late. Police tape was draped around the outer stairway of the building, and forensic analysts were crawling all over the scene. Dax waved two fingers at Serg indicating that they should keep on driving.
‘You think that’s him?’ Serg asked.
Examining the building, Dax noted the newly rendered facade and the freshly painted railings, this was a good block, meaning it was unlikely there was too much crime around here.
‘Whether it is or not, we’re not getting in there without talking to a cop, you up for that?’
Serg didn’t respond because he didn’t need to. They were both of the same Stark school where if you saw a cop you turned and walked the other way. Parking and trying to get in or ask questions would likely end up with one or both of their names in a notebook, and that was the last thing that either of them wanted or needed.
‘If The Greyhound was taken out because of this bounty then whoever is behind it is serious.’
Yes, that was the proof that this was no joke. ‘Take me to the mansion.’
Going to Mauri was only a stop on his way back to Ivy, it was time to put his suspicions to Mauri. If the old man didn’t have any updates for him, anything tangible, then it would be as good as signing a confession as far as Dax was concerned. When Mauri wanted information he got it, unless whoever was behind this knew how to evade Mauri’s grasp, but that was a rare thing for anyone outside of the inner circle.
Chapter Sixteen
Mauri took longer than normal to come out of the bedroom, and he looked frail today like he’d had a rough night. It had been easy to forget just how ill Mauri was because Dax had so many distractions in his life.
He’d paced Mauri’s private drawing room for almost ten minutes, unable to sit down because of the unsated energy zipping through him. When Mauri did eventually come in, Dax stopped, and his tirade died on his lips.
Gaunt and tired, the lines on Mauri’s face were etched deep, and his usually proud stature was a bit stooped today. ‘I don’t suppose this is a social visit,’ Mauri said, he coughed then brought a silk handkerchief to the corner of his mouth. ‘What did you find out?’
‘I came here to find out what you know,’ Dax said, trying not to be affected by the sight of such a robust man wasting away.
‘I told Serg what we discussed.’
If Mauri didn’t even know that Serg had come to him, then it was unlikely he’d done any digging of his own. ‘Yeah, we spoke to Winlow.’
Mauri shuffled toward his armchair next to the fireplace. His steps weren’t sure, they were unsteady, and Dax fought the urge to go over there and support him.
‘What did he say?’
‘Tried to say he knew nothing.’
‘But you persuaded him to share?’ Mauri asked. Slumping into his seat, his relief became a smile, and he lifted his eyes to Dax, who nodded.
His energy waned into the numb depths that sunk out of his guts. Mauri was going to die. Only now, looking at this shadow of his former mentor did Dax comprehend that in a few months there would be no more Maurice Stark to talk to
; he wouldn’t be around to offer advice and guidance, he would just be gone.
‘He folded pretty quick,’ Dax said, glued to the floor where he stood.
‘And what did he reveal?’
‘He got the information at a card game, Benny and The Greyhound were there, it was The Greyhound who clued him in.’
‘Benny is a dead end, if he knew anything he’d declare it in every bar he walked into, the man can’t keep his mouth shut.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did you follow up with The Greyhound?’
‘His place is tied up, the cops are swarming; something went down there not too long ago.’
‘That’s concerning,’ Mauri said, using the arm of the chair to support his weight.
‘I thought the same thing,’ Dax said, forcing himself to leave his position by the door. He went to the chair beside Mauri’s and sat. ‘But see what I can’t figure out, is why you don’t have a handle on what’s going down. Nothing like this, nothing this big, goes down without you knowing someone who knows something.’
Mauri exhaled what was probably supposed to be a laugh, but it became a wince. ‘As you might have noticed, I’m not quite at my full strength.’
‘No, but you’ve got Brad running the show. If he was to ask around—‘
‘I haven’t given Brad all of the information about this,’ Mauri said. ‘He’s not happy about the offer that I made to you. He would never contradict me in public, but behind closed doors… Ivy’s war is not the only one being waged now, and I no longer have my favourite son to protect me.’
‘I wasn’t your favourite,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I was just the most pliable.’
‘Brad is proud and cannot be told, he thinks that he knows best and does not understand how wisdom comes with experience.’
‘He doesn’t listen to you,’ Dax said. ‘That’s not new.’
‘And Trystan… well, you know what he’s like.’
‘Yeah,’ Dax said. ‘You spoiled him, he thinks that he’s invincible, which is why he thinks he can take whatever he wants.’
Fighting Back (Harrow #2) Page 16