The Deception

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The Deception Page 13

by Kat Martin


  Kate fell silent. Jase said nothing, either. There was no mistaking Bran’s meaning.

  “Let’s start at the beginning,” Jase suggested, focusing back on the maps. “We’ll run through plan A a few more times and come up with a decent plan B.” He checked his heavy stainless-steel watch. “We’ve got plenty of time, long as we’re in place before Zepeda gets home.”

  Unfortunately, later that night as they waited in the darkness behind the apartment building, Eli showed up with three of his friends and three working girls to entertain them. The night was a bust.

  The following night wasn’t any better. Eli arrived with four guys and a woman. The only thing good was that after they left, Kate invited Jase up to her apartment as she had the night before, and he spent the hours before morning in her bed.

  The third night they got lucky. At two thirty in the morning, Eli parked his Caddy in its usual spot in the lot behind the building and got out with just two members of his crew. One was short and stout, Latino, with thick arms and legs. Jase recognized him as Roberto “Berto” Valenzuela.

  The other guy was African American, not as tall as Eli but lean and solid, his arms ropy with muscle. One of his eyebrows was scarred, his nose flattened. Delroy Peyton was a former middleweight boxer.

  The men headed for the back door across the alley that led into the building. It opened near the stairwell but also accessed the elevator in the entry.

  “Stay out of the way till we’ve dealt with Eli’s men,” Jase said, crouching next to Kate behind a dumpster. Bran made himself invisible behind a thick shrub on the other side of the back door.

  Kate nodded at the reminder. She looked more determined than frightened. All of them were dressed in black, and a heavy layer of clouds shuttered the moon, providing good cover.

  Both men were armed to the teeth, Jase with his .40-caliber Kimber in a holster clipped to his belt, Bran with a Glock 9 mil beneath his black T-shirt, along with various and sundry smaller caliber pistols.

  But using the guns to disarm Zepeda’s men was a last resort. Gunfire in the middle of the night was the last thing they needed.

  This late, the old brick building was quiet. As Eli approached, Jase caught the end of the dirty joke he was telling and the men’s raucous laughter. Still chuckling, Eli slid his key into the lock on the back door. The lock clicked open, and Jase and Bran stepped out of the shadows.

  Zepeda’s men reacted but not fast enough. Bran’s elbow jammed into Valenzuela’s stomach, doubling him over. A sharp, side-hand blow to the back of the neck took him out. Bran wrapped a hand around Zepeda’s nape and shoved him up against the brick wall, held him there while Jase dealt with the boxer.

  Peyton swung a death blow, which Jase managed to duck. More than one jaw had been broken by that fast, hard right hand. Since punching it out with a former professional boxer was probably not the best idea, Jase looped an arm around Peyton’s neck, dragged the guy back against his chest and squeezed. Peyton clawed and kicked, but Jase was bigger and stronger, and the guy finally went limp.

  When Jase looked up, Bran had his Glock pressed beneath Zepeda’s chin. “We just want to have a little chat,” Bran said to him. “Alone.”

  Jase pulled a zip tie from his back pocket. “Hands behind your back,” he said. With no other choice, Eli complied, and Jase slid the tie around his wrists. While Bran controlled Zepeda, Jase zip-tied Valenzuela and Peyton, both still unconscious. He also bound their ankles. Working beside him, Kate tore off strips of silver duct tape, slapped one over Valenzuela’s mouth, then did the same to Peyton.

  Jase dragged the unconscious men behind the dumpster. They wouldn’t be making trouble for a while, long enough for them to finish with Zepeda.

  “Let’s go,” Jase said to Kate, urging her through the back door, across the hall to where Bran waited with Eli by the elevator.

  They rode up to the fourth floor, Eli quiet along the way. He was biding his time, hoping they would make a mistake. But with the barrel of Bran’s Glock digging into the flesh beneath his chin, he was wise enough not to make any sudden moves.

  Jase used Eli’s key to open the apartment door, and they walked into the living room. Jase turned on the overhead light in the kitchen, whirled a chair around, and Bran slammed Zepeda down in the seat. Jase handed Kate a couple of zip ties, and she secured Eli to the chair. So far so good.

  “The girl, Tina Galen,” Jase said. “She worked for you?”

  Eli grunted. “So what?”

  “So she’s dead. That’s what. And you killed her.”

  Eli’s big body tightened. “What the fuck you talkin’ about? I didn’t kill the bitch.”

  “No? Word is she was with you the night she was murdered. Someone beat her to death. That someone was you.”

  “Bullshit. She was alive and breathing when I left her.”

  Bran stepped close, grabbed the front of Zepeda’s shirt and jerked him up from the seat as far as he could go with his ankles bound to the chair. “You like hitting women. Everyone on the street knows that. Keeps ’em in line, right? They know better than to fuck with you. That’s what happened to Tina. You were teaching her a lesson, and you got carried away. You hit her too hard and killed her.”

  Eli shook his head. “That ain’t right. That ain’t what happened. No, sir.”

  “So what did happen?” Jase pressed, and Bran let Zepeda go.

  Eli swallowed. “Okay, so I hit her a couple of times, slapped her around a little, gave her skinny ass a couple of kicks. Tina thought she could just up and quit. Bitch owed me. I give her a place to live, fed her. Got her the skag she needed. Bitch owed me.”

  Jase wrapped a hand around Eli’s thick neck. “You hit her, all right—with a fucking bat! She was only eighteen years old!”

  Kate stepped closer, set her hand gently on his arm. “Maybe it was an accident,” she said, her voice soft, but her eyes were cold as ice.

  Jase released his hold on Eli’s neck and let her run with it. Maybe she could get something he couldn’t.

  Kate focused on Zepeda. “Is that what happened, Eli? You didn’t mean to do it. You were just trying to make her understand who was boss. But something went wrong and she died.”

  “Is that what happened?” Jase pressed. “You didn’t mean to kill her. It was just an accident. Because if it was, that’s understandable. Shit happens. Things get out of control.”

  Eli firmly shook his head. “I didn’t do it. No way. Tina was alive when I left her.”

  “Where?” Kate asked, a damned good question, Jase thought. Where was the primary crime scene?

  “Where did you leave her, Eli?” Kate pressed.

  “In front of Reuben’s Liquor Store. It was late. Place was closed. Nobody around. Somebody must have followed us, come along and killed her after I left.”

  Jase heard the slide ratchet back on Bran’s semiauto. Bran caught Eli’s jaw, forced his mouth open and stuck the barrel of the pistol down his throat. “You’ve got ten seconds. Admit you killed her or I pull the trigger.”

  The blood washed out of Kate’s face.

  Eli gagged and wildly shook his head. “Didn’t do it,” he said, trying desperately to talk around the barrel of the gun.

  “Five seconds,” Bran said.

  Eli fought against his restraints and tried to shake his head, his teeth clicking against the metal. “I didn’t do it...didn’t do it...but...but I know who did.”

  Bran pulled the gun out of Eli’s mouth. “Talk,” he said.

  Eli swallowed, managed to stop shaking. “I don’t...don’t know who exactly. She’d only worked for me a few weeks. Tina come to Dallas from someplace else, I don’t know where. Back then, she belonged to somebody else.”

  “Another pimp?” Jase asked.

  “Not exactly.” Eli nervously shifted in the chair. “They find out I told, the
y gonna kill me.”

  Bran held up the pistol. “Or I could do it now. Up to you.”

  “Okay, okay.” Eli huffed out a breath. “You know that mark she had on her neck? The kiss? That’s their brand. They put it there so everybody on the street knows the woman is theirs. I shoulda turned her away, but she was young and still pretty and I wanted the money.”

  “Go on,” Jase said.

  “They must have found her, been keepin’ track of her. They followed us that night. Soon as I was gone, they killed her. They was sending a message.”

  “Yeah, what message is that?” Jase asked.

  “It was a warning. To me for taking her in. To the other women in their stable so they don’t try to leave, and anyone who tries to interfere.”

  Silence fell. Jase flashed a look at Bran, who gave a faint nod. Both of them believed Eli was telling the truth.

  “How do I find these people?” Jase asked.

  “Don’t know. You try, you gonna wind up dead as Tina.”

  Jase sliced another glance at Bran. They’d gotten the answers they had come for, though not exactly the ones they’d expected. “Looks like we’re done here,” Jase said.

  Kate stepped in front of Eli. Jase’s eyes widened when she drew back her fist and punched him in the face. “If you’d left Tina in the center, she’d still be alive.”

  Eli spit out a wad of blood. “You got that wrong. She was dead the minute she run away.”

  Jase pulled Kate back. “That’s enough,” he said, though he couldn’t blame her for wanting a little payback for her sister.

  Bran moved close to Eli, into the harsh overhead light. “You know who I am?”

  Zepeda wet his chafed lips. He nodded. Everyone in the hood knew Bran Garrett was former special ops. It was whispered on the street he could kill a man fifty different ways and never leave a trace. Nobody wanted any part of him.

  “You and your men—all of you are still alive,” Bran said. “If you don’t want trouble you can’t handle, this ends here.”

  A bead of sweat rolled down Zepeda’s forehead. “No more trouble.”

  “Make sure your men understand,” Bran said.

  Zepeda flinched when Bran pulled a knife from his boot, but Bran just leaned over and cut the zip ties. “Ten minutes, then you can go down to the alley and cut your men loose.”

  Bran strode out of the kitchen, and Jase urged Kate out behind him. They moved into the hall and Jase closed the door.

  “Thanks for the help,” he said to Bran when they reached the alley.

  “My pleasure,” Bran said. He waved as he headed for his Jeep.

  Since it was always better to have a second means of escape, Jase walked Kate back to the Yukon. He could feel her shaking as he helped her into the seat. Not nearly as calm as she’d seemed.

  “You did good in there,” he said as fired up the engine. “You handled yourself like a pro.”

  Kate swallowed. Beneath the passing streetlights, her face still looked pale. “Would Brandon really have done it? If Eli hadn’t answered, would he actually have pulled the trigger?”

  Hard to know for sure with Bran, but Jase didn’t say that. “We wanted the truth. I’m pretty sure we got it.”

  “Who is he? I mean... I know he’s one of the Garrett brothers and they’re all filthy rich, but...who else is he? Zepeda was clearly afraid of him.”

  “Bran’s former military. He was special ops.”

  “So were you, but there’s something different about him.”

  “Yeah, well, Bran was a little more special than I was.” Bran was Army Delta. Considering what Jase was capable of doing himself, he figured the street talk about Bran was true. Apparently, so did Eli Zepeda.

  Kate settled back in her seat. At least she had finally stopped shaking. Guilt slipped through him. He shouldn’t have taken her into such a dangerous situation. And yet as he thought of the way she had taken on Zepeda, he couldn’t imagine leaving her behind. She’d been involved from the beginning. Until this was over, that wasn’t going to change.

  “So I guess that means there won’t be any retribution,” she said, bringing the conversation full circle.

  “Eli’s no fool. He’d rather make money than trouble, so we’re probably okay.” At least for now. What happened from here on out was a different story.

  He glanced at Kate. She was still wound tight. In his line of work, he knew the feeling. Instead of pulling up in front of her building, he drove into the parking garage and pulled into a visitor space.

  “Okay, if Zepeda didn’t kill my sister, who did?” Kate asked.

  Jase turned off the engine. “That’s the question we need to answer.”

  She turned to face him, her long blond braid sliding over her shoulder. His groin tightened. After dealing with scum like Zepeda, he needed her tonight. Or maybe it was the fear for her he’d felt tonight.

  “But how are we going to find the killer now?” she pressed. “It looks to me like we’re back to square one.”

  “We’re way further than square one. Tomorrow we’ll go over everything we’ve learned and figure out where we go next.”

  Kate’s eyes found his across the center console. “So...um...if we’re going to be working together in the morning, it would probably be easier if you just stayed over.”

  Something relaxed inside him. He didn’t try to hide the hunger in his eyes. He wanted her. He just wasn’t sure he wanted her to know how much.

  “Good idea,” was all he said.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kate sat next to Jason at the kitchen table the following morning. Though she had tried to tell herself she needed to take a step back from him, she was glad he had spent the night.

  After their confrontation with Zepeda and his men, she had been too wired to even think about sleep. Accompanying two former special ops warriors into danger, she’d been in way over her head. She’d had no idea how far the men would be willing to go to get the information they needed.

  If she were being honest, she’d admit to being scared to death. Still, she’d managed to keep it together, do the job she’d been assigned and get through the mission.

  By the time they got to her apartment, the adrenaline was wearing off, her knuckles were hurting from the punch she had thrown and her insides were shaking.

  Jase seemed to understand. The minute the door was closed, he pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right,” he said, running a comforting hand up and down her back. “You’re home. You’re safe. Everything’s okay.”

  A little sound slipped from her throat and she relaxed into his arms, absorbing his strength and heat. He just held her, making no demands, letting her settle and regain control of her emotions.

  Eventually she began to feel something besides nerves and residual fear. She became aware of the roughness of the black jeans that clung to his powerful thighs, the hardness of his chest.

  Tipping her head back, she pressed her mouth to his throat, felt the steady pulse beating there, kissed his jaw. The feel of his arousal sent heat sliding through her.

  Jase kissed the bruised knuckles on her hand. “So brave tonight,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “I want you, baby. So damn much.”

  The gestured loosened something inside her. “I want you, too,” she whispered, and Jase scooped her into his arms. She wasn’t a small woman, but he made her feel that way, made her feel feminine and sexy and desirable.

  They made love twice, releasing the pent-up energy both of them were feeling. Exactly what she needed, which Jase seemed to understand.

  When morning came, she showered and dressed and went in search of him, found him sitting behind his laptop at the kitchen table. He always seemed more comfortable in there.

  “What are you working on?” She poured herself a mug of coffee, carried the pot over a
nd refilled his cup.

  “Catching up on my email, taking care of a little personal business. I picked up some doughnuts.” He nodded to the box on the counter, then glanced at her and smiled. “I borrowed your keys to let myself back in.”

  She returned his smile. The thought occurred that maybe she should just have a key made for him, but she quickly discarded the notion. She needed to tamp things down with Jase, not get involved any more deeply than she already was.

  But she was definitely happy about the doughnuts. Grabbing a glazed, she sat down at the table next to him. “You said we’d figure out where we were.”

  “That’s right. I made a few notes, things we’ve learned so far.”

  “Okay.”

  “We know Zepeda didn’t kill her. Or at least, after last night, that’s our working assumption. According to Eli, Tina was working for a group of people, not just one pimp, some sort of organized crime ring, something like that.”

  “A group located out of town.”

  “That’s right.”

  “How do we find them?”

  “I’m heading over to Reuben’s liquors, see if I can find anything that’ll confirm it as the primary murder scene. I want to have a look before I turn the info over to the police.”

  “It was raining that night. Do you think there’s really a chance you’ll find something?”

  “You never know. Even if we don’t, the CSIs might come up with something. Those guys are really good. You want to come with me?”

  “Absolutely. I’m ready to go anytime. I just need to grab my purse.”

  As Jase closed down his laptop, Kate hurried back down the hall. Her purse sat on the dresser in her bedroom. As she walked into the bedroom, a memory arose of last night, and her body flushed with heat. The man was amazing in bed.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Jase was waiting, his laptop tucked beneath the thick biceps stretching the sleeve of his T-shirt. He turned off the coffee maker, then waited for her to walk in front of him out the kitchen door.

  Very courteous for a big alpha male, she thought. “Did you learn those pretty manners from your mom?” she asked, curious about him as they crossed the living room to the door.

 

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