The Leah Ryan Thrillers Box Set: Three Chiller Thrillers (Repo Chick Blues #1, Finding Chloe #2, Dirty Business #3) (Leah Ryan Thrillers Box Set, Books 1-3)

by Tracy Sharp

  Jack nodded. “Yeah, in his child molesting way.”

  The waitress walked by, looking at the table for the fourth time. Jack fished a twenty out of his wallet and laid it down over the check. “Did Tyler give the tapes to Phil?”

  Skid nodded. “Yeah. All of them, the next day, after he got what he needed on tape.”

  I pushed my empty milkshake glass away. In all the times the waitress had walked by looking for the check, she hadn’t cleared our dishes, but I knew Jack would let her keep the five-fifty in change anyway. “What did Phil do with the tapes?”

  “I haven’t seen Phil since Tyler died. He was supposed to come around with our share of the money once he got the payoff from the judge, but then Tyler died.” He cleared his throat, swallowed a couple of times. “I don’t want a penny of that money. Not one penny.” He brought is hand up and began fingering the chain around his neck. The chain that used to belong to Tyler. He twisted it around his fingers, closing his hand around it, like he was holding another’s hand close to him.

  Did Tyler really give him the chain? They were lovers, he might have. I didn’t want to hurt him further, but I really wanted to know. “How did you get the chain, Skid?”

  “I went into the apartment after Tyler was found. He gave me a key. I just wanted something of his. I wanted to feel close to him.” He gazed off into space for a moment. “He’d taken it off, left it on the bedside table. He couldn’t sleep with it around his neck. It bothered him, made his throat feel constricted. He said it made him feel like he was choking.” His laugh came out cold and devoid of humor. “And that’s how he died. Must’ve been a premonition.”

  A shiver ran over me. “Skid, do you know who did kill him?”

  Skid sat forward, his hands clutched into fists. “Yeah. It’s obvious, isn’t it? It had to be Nolan’s father. But he’ll never see a jail cell. He’s a judge, man.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I needed to pay Martin a visit. But for some reason I found myself pulling into the parking lot of the repot depot. I had no intention of going in. I just wanted to be near Callahan right then. I planned to just sit there for a few minutes, feeling close to him without him knowing it. I didn’t know why I needed to be near him, only that I did need to.

  I hadn’t even turned off the engine, but sat listening to a sad, haunting song about a lost love. I hated sad songs, but I didn’t change the radio channel. I stared at the front door of the building. It would be so easy just to make up a lame excuse to be here. I could walk right through the doors. But I wouldn’t. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and sat back with my eyes closed.

  I must’ve dozed off because a knocking on my window almost made me jump out of my skin. My heart knocked against my chest as I looked at Callahan’s face at the window. He waved and gestured for me to roll it down. I felt like an idiot.

  “Miss me, huh?” He smiled.

  “No.” Of course this was a dead give away that I did miss him. Flat out denial throws your ass in the bag every time.

  “What? You lost your house key and needed a place to sleep, so you picked my parking lot?”

  “Something like that.”

  He tilted his head to the side and gave me an “as if” look. “Why don’t you come in for a second? I could use some company.”

  I let out a deep breath and stared ahead at the building.

  “I’ve got beer.”

  I looked back at him with mock joy. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  He shook his head and headed back to the building. I got out of the Jeep and followed him.

  We headed straight for the kitchen. The repot depot had a nice little lunch room, complete with a table, fridge and stove. Callahan could’ve lived there. And he mostly did.

  He popped the top and handed me a beer. “It’s not a crime to visit a friend, Leah. You can come see me any time, you know that.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay.” He took a long pull off his beer, still looking at my face.

  I looked around the kitchen, and my gaze fell onto the table we’d had wild sex on the previous autumn.

  “I always did love that table,” he said, standing close behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to push away the urge to turn around and kiss him. It’s funny how your body can remember someone, can crave someone.

  “Leah.” His lips were close to my ear.

  Screw it. I turned and our mouths found each other, and soon we were undressing each other with the urgency of two lust-crazed teenagers.

  Callahan’s hands moving over my back and ass was heavenly. Nobody had ever rendered me helpless with their touch before, but Callahan’s touch was like velvet, and it was all I could do not to move my body against his hands and purr. I could’ve stayed like that all night, just feeling his fingers move over me. His touch was my happy place.

  When his lips touched mine they were warm and soft, and I felt weak in the knees. I placed my hands on the table behind me to steady myself. The kiss was long and languid at first, but before long it became urgent, feverish. His mouth was delicious and dreamy, and I didn’t want to break the kiss it, but he turned me around and pushed me toward the table, bending me over it so my arms were splayed out in front of me. If I didn’t want him so badly I might’ve argued.

  A dull ache bloomed in my chest and a lump rose in my throat. Hot tears sprung to my eyes and I kept them squeezed tightly shut. I was glad Cal couldn’t see my face, and I hated myself for feeling so sad. How could I be with somebody and in the same moment miss them so much? I needed to drown out the pain. I needed to feel something other than the cold vice gripping my heart.

  “Tell me you need me.” Frustration edged the tone of his voice. He needed me to need him and I refused to back down.

  “Tell me,” he whispered.

  I didn’t. I couldn’t. And as soon as it was over, the ache had come back, reaching out from the center of me again. Once again, I hadn’t given him what he really needed.

  He moved away from me, and I straightened and turned, watching him pull on his jeans.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Leah. It hurts me too much.” The pain in his eyes sent jabs through me. “You have to let me go.”

  I nodded, looking at the floor and swallowing down the lump in my throat. “I know.”

  The words I wanted to say never got passed my lips. The truth was that saying them wouldn’t change anything, and that truth left me feeling so sad and alone that I was breathless. Maybe some day I wouldn’t be so messed up and damaged, and maybe I’d feel deserving of Callahan’s love. But today wasn’t that day.

  * * *

  This time when I went to visit Martin, Jack came with me. Night had fallen all around us, and there was a slight, early spring chill to the air. It was a clear night, and the sky was blanketed with stars. As we climbed the stairs to the front door I saw a crack in the curtains, then the space between them closed.

  I rang the bell. It seemed more civilized than knocking. But I’d only ring it once more before Jack and I went to work on the door.

  The door swung open and Martin stood there, looking perturbed. His gaze shifted between Jack and me. “Ms. Ryan. This is not a good time.”

  I gave him my brightest smile. “It’s never a good time to discuss blackmail and murder, Martin.”

  His eyes widened, and then narrowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I don’t intend to stand here and listen to your outlandish fabrications.”

  I turned to Jack. “Why is it that when somebody is guilty as hell they always say, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’? They might as well just confess, right?”

  “I’m still on outlandish fabrications,” Jack said, doing his best to look impressed. “Did he pay extra for those? Or are you throwing them in for free?”

  Martin glowered at Jack. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m a guy who knows what you’ve been up to, Marty. So you’d best let us in. It wouldn’t do to have your nam
e and face splattered all over the media, now would it?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That would be kind of a buzz-kill, wouldn’t it? You’d have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “And you’d have to update your resume, too,” Jack added. “Assuming you could dance your way out of a murder charge, which I sincerely doubt. Being a judge will only let you hide so many criminal activities. I don’t think murdering your son’s fifteen-year-old lover is one of them.”

  Even in the pale light coming from the entrance I could see that Martin had blanched. He was watching his life flash before his eyes, and I couldn’t help grinning.

  “So why’d you really hire me, Martin? Just for appearances? Did you think I must suck as a private eye because I’m a woman? What was it?”

  Martin stood staring at us, his expression unreadable. Then he shut the door in our faces.

  We didn’t know exactly what the next step was. Given what Skid had told us, the finger was strongly pointing toward Martin as Tyler’s killer. We decided we’d sleep on it, then talk to Skid about going to the police with what he knew. He’d been questioned by the police once because of his association with Tyler as a fellow prostitute, but he’d never told them about the blackmail plot. Clearly, he was too ashamed by what he’d done, horrified by the results, and full of regret. But talking to us seemed to have lifted a weight off his shoulders. I hoped he would be willing to talk to the police now.

  * * *

  I awoke early the next morning, feeling rested. I’d slept through the entire night, which is unusual for me. Normally I could hear a mouse fart, but apparently I’d slept the sleep of the dead. It might’ve had something to do with Shanahan’s promise that One-Eye wouldn’t be bothering me any longer. I wouldn’t have to worry about any more severed heads showing up on my doorstep, or any more attacks from him.

  Dawn was just breaking when I peered out my bedroom window. Two figures moved in my backyard and my heart leapt into my throat. I squinted. A smile came to my lips. They were deer. A mother and her baby, munching on my daffodils. I stood and watched them, letting a calm fall over me. But soon a car driving too fast past my house spooked them, and they bounded off into the woodsy area behind my backyard.

  I stretched and turned to see Buddy yawning from his bed. He blinked at me, as if to ask if I’d lost my mind, getting up at this ungodly hour.

  “You want to go for a walk? It looks like a gorgeous morning, Bud.”

  He pulled himself into a sitting position, then stood slowly, swaying a little.

  “Oh, come on. You’re not that old yet.”

  He stepped off his bed and stretched his back legs behind him, then followed me. Jack was still sleeping when I crept down the stairs, but he opened his eyes when I tried to sneak past him with Buddy close behind me.

  “Go back to sleep. I’m just taking Buddy out for a little walk.”

  He sat up. “Not without me, you’re not.”

  “Jack, nobody who wants to get at me would be awake at this hour. Shanahan said One-Eye wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Plus, I have Buddy. I think I’m safe.”

  He watched me through sleepy eyes. “Martin might be a killer, Leah.”

  “He might be. But he’d be an idiot to come after us now. It would be so obvious.”

  He looked like he wasn’t buying it.

  “Just a little walk. I won’t be long. I promise.” I turned and started out of the living room and into the kitchen. I found Buddy’s chain collar on the table and held it open as he pushed his massive head through it. I clipped his leash on and he gave me a wide smile. Buddy is one handsome dog.

  “Don’t go far,” Jack mumbled. He stood up and stretched. “If you’re longer than fifteen minutes I’m coming after you.”

  “You don’t know which direction we’re going in,” I called over my shoulder.

  “I’ve got the instincts of a cat,” he called back.

  Outside it was just becoming light. The sun was pushing its way up into the sky, glowing brilliant gold. But everything still had that smoky, hazy look it has when it’s not quite light but no longer dark. Birds were chirping to each other, and the air was fresh and cool.

  Buddy and I walked across the dewy grass toward the park down the street. There were very few cars out this early, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. Buddy loped along beside me, staying close as he always does. I really don’t need to keep him on a leash because he doesn’t move away from my side, but most folks get a little jittery around loose rottweilers.

  I unclipped his leash. “Nobody’s around, Bud. I think we’re safe. Go, sniff to your heart’s content.”

  Buddy trotted off a little ways and began his routine of sniffing and watering all surfaces that apparently needed it. I wandered over to the swings. The wooden seats were damp, and I brushed one off, then sat on it and felt myself smile as I gripped a chain in each hand. My sister and I used to love the swings. Thinking of her caused a bittersweet yearning in my heart.

  She’d been snatched right in front of me while we were riding our bikes. I was seven and she was five at the time. They never caught the man who grabbed her, and she was never found. But sometimes, during quiet moments like this, it felt like Susie was with me. I could almost feel her on the swing next to me. And when that swing began drifting lazily back and forth, I smiled and chose to believe it was her in the wind.

  Buddy’s growling pulled me from my thoughts. His ears were pointed up and his muscles hunched as he watched a spot behind me. I turned to see Big Dick walk toward me quickly, the single-minded concentration of a predator on his face. He carried a gun, pointed it at Buddy. A scream ripped from my throat as I jumped up. “Buddy! Go!” But Buddy leapt toward Big Dick, growling and snarling, his teeth bared.

  A sharp crack and Buddy went down.

  In that moment the color went out of the world. I didn’t think. I just moved, running toward Buddy, thinking only of stopping his bleeding, not thinking of the man with the gun who was coming for me. Just as I reached out to staunch the blood pouring from the wound in his chest, I felt the gun smash into the back of my head. Everything went white.

  Then everything went black.

  * * *

  Even before I was fully awake I felt the throbbing at the back of my head. I was lying on my side, my hands tied in front of me and my ankles tied together. I tried to look around, but lifting my head caused a new wave of pain, and everything would turn gray. I was certain I had a concussion. Wonderful. All I knew was that I was in some kind of metal box. Like one of those trailers you can rent for moving. Lying still, I tried to discern where I was.

  The ride was slightly bumpy. It felt like a dirt road. I thought we must be heading off deep into the woods, where Big Dick would kill and dump me. Maybe he thought I was already dead.

  An image of Buddy falling to the grass came into my mind and my throat constricted. Hot tears spilled from my eyes, over the bridge of my nose, and down my temple. I cried long and hard, but silently. My best friend was almost certainly dead. He’d been shot in the chest. There had been nobody around to help him. He died trying to keep me from harm. He died in the park, alone. Fear had hold of my chest, clamping down like a vise. But the grief was much harder to take. I felt the pain of Buddy’s lonesome, agonizing moments deep in the pit of my stomach. It sat in there like a steel ball. The weight of it real and palpable inside of me, and at that moment I’d do anything to make it stop.

  But as the van slowed, rage over his murder filled me up. Fury pulsated through my veins, and I vowed that if I never did another thing again in my life, Big Dick would pay dearly for hurting my dear friend.

  The vehicle stopped and I closed my eyes, willing myself to slow my breathing and make my body limp. I prayed the tears on my skin had dried. I waited. I heard a door slam and shoes crunching against small pebbles. I let my mouth drop open and let my face go completely slack.

  The doors scraped and creaked as they opened. I felt daylight on my face, but then a shad
ow fell over me and blocked the light.

  “Nice try, bitch. I know you’re awake. I can sense it.”

  Keeping my eyes closed, I remained still.

  I heard more than felt something hard connect with my ankle, but a second later my ankle sang with pain where he’d hit me. New, hotter anger burst inside me and I glared at him, gritting my teeth.

  “I said, I know you’re awake.” His voice was casual, devoid of emotion. He dropped the large flashlight he’d slammed my ankle with. It rolled into the corner of the trailer. “So enough with the games, okay?” He stood looking down at me as if he were watching a bug caught in a spider web, hoping for the entertainment of watching it try to wriggle free.

  I didn’t give him the satisfaction. Turning onto my back, I tilted my head sideways to get a better view of his face. “So you and Susan were involved in Tyler’s death? Did Martin pay you a nice chunk of change to get rid of him?”

  He threw his head back and laughed, and the result was so robotic that that it was eerie. Cold fear raced through me. When he snapped his head back down and looked at me there was no smile on his face. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

  Play to his ego. He thinks you’re just a stupid bitch. Use that. “I thought I did. But I guess not. Enlighten me.”

  He cocked his head slightly to the side, considering, then shrugged. “Why not. You’re not going anywhere.”

  His dead tone sent tiny tremors through my body, but I forced them back. The guy was missing some ingredient that made the rest of us human. “If I have to die out here, at least tell me what I missed.”

  “Wow. Talk about dedication to the job right to the very end. Too bad you couldn’t have stayed out of it. I might’ve needed you some day.” Something like regret passed over his face. One less person he could use for his own gain.

  I forced a little smile. “It is too bad. I would’ve done a good job for you. So come on. The suspense is killing me. How did it really go down, Big Dick?”