Deadly Alliances

by Candle Sutton

  Her stomach gurgled. Man, was she hungry.

  Of course she was. She’d hardly eaten anything at dinner the previous night and she certainly hadn’t been hungry after seeing Peters’ body.

  A weight settled in her spirit.

  How could she even think of food knowing what had happened? Peters was dead, Beckman was guilty of murder, and she was thinking about her stomach?

  Logically, she knew she shouldn’t feel guilty.

  But still, food somehow seemed so incredibly petty considering everything else.

  She moved from the living room into the kitchenette and poured a cup of coffee that resembled the marsh sludge found back home. At least she knew who’d made this pot.

  Grimacing past a sip, she looked up to find Alex watching her with amusement.

  A little sleep had done wonders for Alex, too. Her eyes still looked like a kindergartener had gone crazy with purple crayons, but she had more color in her cheeks and the whites of her eyes were actually white. Not to mention she was able to smile.

  “I don’t suppose we’ve got anything to eat around here.”

  Alex shook her head. “Rodriguez and Chow have already made several trips to the vending machine this morning, but evidently it’s only stocked with chips, popcorn, and candy.”

  Yum. What a breakfast. “No continental breakfast here, huh?”

  “Nope. And nothing close by, either.”

  “Great.” In a few hours they could order a pizza for lunch. That might be about the best she could hope–

  “Why don’t you run to the store and pick up something? For all of us? And grab something for lunch, too.”

  Alex’s suggestion, while a good one, stirred up her stomach. “We’re already short-handed. It’s okay. We can have something delivered in a few hours.”

  “A few hours, are you kidding me?” Alex waved off her concern. “Stevens doesn’t strike during the day, remember? And Chow and Rodriguez are both awake, so we’re good here.”

  True. And the inside leak was now in custody, so she no longer needed to be suspicious.

  Maybe.

  Before she could say anything, Alex continued, “And the sooner, the better. I’m planning to send both of them back to the hotel to get everything packed up.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She turned and headed for the bedroom, already twisting her damp hair into a quick bun. She’d only buy enough food to get them through lunch. Hopefully by the time they were ready for dinner, this place would be little more than a messy and troubled memory.

  ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪

  “Hey.”

  The list in Lana’s hand jerked as she started.

  Nate?

  How could she let him sneak up on her like that? She was lucky it was him and not someone more sinister. Like Stevens.

  Never mind that Stevens wouldn’t know her from anyone else.

  She turned.

  Half a step behind him stood another man, a few inches taller than Nate, with close cropped light brown hair. A shopping basket containing a cluster of bananas and a bottle of orange juice dangled from the man’s left hand.

  Nate bobbed his head toward the man. “This is my buddy Matt.”

  A grin glided across his face as Matt offered his free hand. “Ah, the infamous Lana. I’ve heard stories.”

  She chuckled. “Sounds dangerous. But at least we’re even.”

  “Yeah. Although I wouldn’t necessarily believe everything you hear.” Matt shot a sideways glance at Nate. “I’m gonna grab a few more things.”

  A hint of pink tinged Nate’s ears. “I’ll catch up.”

  Matt turned back to her. “Good to meet you. Guess I’ll have to stop teasing him about his imaginary friend Lana.”

  “I don’t know, he could’ve paid me to pretend to be this Lana.”

  Matt laughed, a hearty sound that came from deep inside. “True enough.”

  As he walked off shaking his head, Lana turned back to Nate. “He seems nice.”

  “Yeah. Been the closest thing to a brother I ever had.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and cocked his head to the right. “Missed seeing my favorite runner last night.”

  “I didn’t make it out. It was a busy night.”

  Busier than she’d ever be able to tell him.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “In a good way or bad?”

  Bad. Most definitely. But telling him that would invite more questions. “Hard to say. I found my biological family.”

  “I thought you weren’t looking for them.”

  “I wasn’t. It just kind of happened. I guess God had bigger plans.”

  “God, huh?”

  She leaned on the handle of her cart. “Had to be. The only way things could’ve fallen into place like this is if God put it all together.”

  “But why would He do that?”

  “I don’t know. So I could know the truth, maybe.”

  “Huh.”

  “You don’t have to agree with me, but God’s involved in our daily lives whether you want to admit it or not.”

  He slowly rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not so much that I don’t agree. I guess I don’t think God does that for everyone. I mean, sure He does stuff for good people like you, but what about those of us who are less than perfect? I don’t see it.”

  “Trust me, I’m far from perfect. And just because you don’t see Him working, doesn’t mean He’s not. Take us for example. What’re the odds that we’d both be vacationing here at the same time and happen to meet and happen to have similar backgrounds? That’s God at work.”

  “Hmm. Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  Not for long, I hope.

  Before she could reply, he added, “Any chance you’re free for dinner tonight? Or even lunch, if that works better?”

  “I’m sorry. I’d like to, really, but today is jam packed for me.”

  “Stuff with your brother? Bring him along, too. I’d like to meet him.”

  Meet him? Or kill him?

  Cool it. The suggestion was a normal one, especially given the circumstances. She needed to give her suspicions a day off.

  Besides, the more she knew about Nate, the less likely it seemed that he was Stevens. How many hit men traveled with their best friend on assignment?

  “He’s going through a rough spell right now, so it’s probably not a good time.” Ugh. Why did she always feel like she’d kicked a puppy when she turned him down? “But we should exchange numbers.”

  “Cool. I wanted to ask before, but, well, didn’t.” He rolled his shoulders in a faint shrug. Pulling out his phone, he tapped in her number as she recited it. “Okay, just sent you a text so you’ll have my number, too. Maybe we can set something up for later this week.”

  She smiled. It was all she could do since she knew she wouldn’t be in town after today. “I should probably get going. But I’m glad we ran into each other.”

  “Yeah. Catch you later.”

  If only he knew.

  Offering a small wave, she returned to her shopping. Time to wrap this up and get back to the motel. Like she’d told Nate, there was a lot that had to be done today.

  And remaining off Stevens’ radar for a few more hours topped the list.

  ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪

  “Maxwell’s getting details squared away for transporting Peters’ body. And Beckman’s cooperating.” Alex settled onto the sofa across from Lana.

  Well, that was good. Amidst a sea of bad news, she’d take it. At least the fifteen minutes Alex had spent on the phone with Maxwell had been worth the effort. “Did he say why he did it?”

  “Evidently Beckman’s wife has some pretty big gambling debts. Someone offered to pay off the bookies she owed.”

  “Who?”

  “He never gave a name.”

  Lana massaged her temples. “So Beckman did all this for money?”

  “Partly. I guess those debts had come due and there were some ser
ious threats of physical harm.”

  There was still a lot that didn’t add up. “Walk me through this. Rosetti–”

  “Someone.”

  “Okay, someone contacts him…”

  “At first, he told Beckman to leave the curtains open and realign the cameras. When that plan failed, then he gave Beckman Stevens’ number and told him to work with him.”

  “So he gets Stevens’ number and then, what? Waits a full week?”

  Alex smothered a yawn, giving evidence to how little sleep they’d all gotten the night before. “I guess he dodged the call for a few days, then whoever it was got the wife involved. After that, he talked to this person, who gave him Stevens’ number, and so on.”

  Weird. “So Beckman’s wife…”

  “Is under protection. That’s why he wanted to talk to Maxwell. To cut some kind of deal for her.”

  “And Peters must’ve heard Beckman talking to Stevens, which is why Beckman shot him.” Stupid. Beckman should’ve known that it would be traced back to him.

  “Yeah. He said he panicked when Peters confronted him.”

  And now Peters was dead.

  Lana pushed the thought aside. “Well, at least we have Stevens’ number now. That’s good news, right?”

  “You’d think. Turns out it’s a pay as you go phone. There’s an address attached to the account, but we’re not expecting it to pay off.”

  Figured. Couldn’t anything go their way? “Okay, so what’s our next move?”

  “Maxwell told us to pack up here and head for the police station. Chow and Rodriguez will meet us there.”

  “Did they find anything?” Chow and Rodriguez had been at the other hotel for hours, scanning for bugs and trackers as they packed up the team’s belongings.

  “No. And they’re just about done, so it appears last night’s visitor didn’t leave anything behind.”

  And evidently hadn’t returned. Which was both good and bad.

  Alex pushed up from the sofa. “Let’s get moving. We’re losing daylight.”

  And Stevens’ preferred time of attack was dusk.

  It took under thirty minutes to get the few belongings they’d brought with them packed and the master bedroom furniture put back where it belonged.

  Alex picked up the single bag containing the group’s possessions and paused by the door. “I’ll put this in the car, make sure we’re clear, then signal you. Lock the door.”

  Like she’d really do anything else. Lana simply nodded.

  The seconds slogged by.

  What she wouldn’t give to have a third person here. Someone who could stay with the vehicle while she and Alex escorted Reilly out. Especially since they had to cover some open terrain to reach the SUV.

  She watched Alex trek up the winding gravel path, crest the small hill, and slowly disappear from sight. The lowering sun cast long shadows over the sandy terrain.

  Dusk was approaching.

  They were moving Reilly during Stevens’ favorite hunting time. And that small rise would give him a good vantage point from which he could pick them off as they approached.

  It’d be easy for the hit man to take them down.

  Too easy.

  Why didn’t they send up a flare while they were at it?

  On the upside, with Alex watching from the top of the hill, she should have a pretty clear view of both directions and could hopefully spot trouble coming before it reached them.

  If trouble was coming.

  She had to assume it was. Reilly’s life depended on it.

  Lana ejected her Glock’s magazine, confirmed it was full, and slid it back into place.

  At least she was ready. Just in case.

  Seconds later, Alex appeared at the top of the hill, slowly rotated, then signaled them forward.

  Go time.

  Her eyes slid to Reilly as she twisted the deadbolt. “Head for Alex. Quickly.”

  A nod confirmed he’d heard the instruction. The gray pallor of his skin concerned her, but he seemed to be breathing okay and she couldn’t take the time to question him right now.

  She racked the slide and held her gun in front of her, angled slightly downward.

  With a hand to Reilly’s back, she shoved him out the door. Her gaze swept left, right, forward. She tossed a glance behind her.

  No sign of movement anywhere.

  They neared the top. Alex scurried toward the SUV.

  Almost there. Once Reilly was safely inside the bulletproof vehicle–

  A shadow. Behind Alex.

  The shadow materialized into a man. Tall. Dressed in black. With a ski mask and sunglasses.

  A rifle swung up.

  Stevens!

  The butt of the rifle slammed into Alex’s skull. She collapsed without a sound.

  No!

  A chunky black boot connected with Alex’s discarded weapon and kicked it into a shrub.

  Lana pushed past Reilly, whipped her gun up. Aimed at the assassin’s head. “Drop it. Now!”

  The rifle swung Reilly’s direction. She tightened her finger on the trigger.

  Click.

  No boom. No recoil. No bullet.

  Impossible!

  She tapped the magazine, racked the slide, tried again.

  Same result.

  “Down!” She shoved Reilly to the side and rushed Stevens.

  The rifle’s barrel jolted toward her. Wavered, but didn’t fire.

  She kept moving, left hand closing around the barrel, right hand swinging her useless gun at the masked head.

  He captured her hand before it connected with his skull.

  Long fingers snaked around her right wrist, yanking her to the side as he easily twisted his rifle out of her grasp.

  She fisted her now-empty left hand and swept it up, aiming for his temple.

  Dropping the rifle, he blocked the blow and seized her arm.

  Both hands restrained. Not good. Not at all.

  Maybe she could kick him–

  He thrust his arms out, propelled her backward.

  The world tipped. Her feet flew out from beneath her as she went down. Gravel bit into her hands and elbows.

  “Lana?” Reilly’s voice, behind her.

  Stevens reached for his rifle.

  “Take cover!” She shoved to her feet.

  As much as she wanted to make sure Reilly was obeying her directions, she couldn’t take her eyes off Stevens. He picked up the rifle, looked at her.

  Then turned and ran for the road.

  What?

  She felt Reilly behind her. “In the car. Now!”

  Veering toward the bushes, she plunged her arms into the scraggly branches. Her fingers connected with metal. Alex’s gun.

  She ran. Racked the slide without missing a step. He might be taller, but she was faster. The gap narrowed.

  I’ve got him.

  The thought registered half a second before she saw a white car at the side of the road.

  Stevens dove in the driver’s door and gunned the engine. The car surged forward, spitting gravel into the air.

  She aimed at the tires.

  Rubber met asphalt and the car fishtailed.

  Moving targets were hard. But not impossible. She pulled the trigger.

  Missed.

  And now he was out of range.

  Dang it! If he hadn’t had a car waiting, she would’ve caught him.

  But as it was, she hadn’t even caught the license plate number. The car was a newer model Ford Taurus, but unless she missed her guess, there would be a lot of those in town.

  And it was probably a rental anyway.

  The car vanished around a corner. Stevens was gone. Again.

  Reilly. Alex. She whirled and raced back to the SUV.

  The back door opened as she approached and Reilly stepped out. “What were you think–?”

  “Get back in the car.”

  Her tone was harder than she’d intended, but it worked. Sliding back inside, Reilly shut the door
. But not before she glimpsed Alex in the seat beside him.

  She retraced her steps and retrieved her gun.

  After brushing the gravel off her seat, legs, and palms, she climbed into the driver’s seat and twisted to look at Reilly. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. Her gaze swung to Alex.

  While her face was unusually pale, red patches glowed from her cheeks, a sharp contrast to the narrowed icy eyes above them. Several fine scratches ran down the right side of her face from where she’d landed on the gravel.

  “Alex? You all right?”

  “Fine.” She bit out the word. “No. I’m not fine. I’m mad as… how’d he get the drop on us?”

  Obviously she didn’t expect anyone to know the answer to that question.

  “Okay, I’m going to drop you at the ER, then take Reilly to the–”

  “Let’s get to the police station and get out of town. That was too close.”

  While she absolutely agreed, she also didn’t want to take a chance with a head injury. “Alex, you took a blow to the head. With a rifle. You need to be checked for a concussion.”

  “And possibly some stitches,” Reilly inserted. “She’s got a pretty good gash back there.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Irritation bled through her words, making them as sharp as shattered glass. “This is still my op and I’m still in charge. We’re going to the police station. All of us.”

  Lana bit back the arguments that waited on her tongue. If Alex wanted to pull that card, there wasn’t much she could do to stop her. Except inform Maxwell of Alex’s injuries when they arrived at the police station.

  She started the car and backed out of the parking spot.

  The silence inside the car didn’t last long.

  “What happened back there?”

  Reilly’s question mirrored the one bouncing around inside her own head. “I don’t know.”

  So many mysteries.

  Like why her gun hadn’t fired. It seemed as though Stevens had anticipated such a thing. But how could he? Maybe Beckman had tampered with it. As soon as she got a chance, she’d have to disassemble her weapon and see what was wrong.