“Sorry. Hot flash.” She crossed her arms to keep from hitting him again. “Is that how you fooled the forensics into thinking it was you all burned up in the accident? You had your teeth pulled and put them in the car?”
“No.” He frowned and looked almost…embarrassed. “That doesn’t work. Apparently. I had to have the dental records swapped.”
She read between the lines enough to realize he’d had his teeth removed before learning that trick wasn’t feasible. What an idiot.
He stood, wobbling enough to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d rung his bell. How many times had she wanted to do that in the last twenty-seven years?
Hitting him had been very satisfactory. Maybe she could work in another punch before the evening was over. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?”
He was mad. She knew it by the crinkle between his brows and the way his jaw set. She didn’t care. “Because I ain’t dead, and I need something outa my office.”
She didn’t move. “Why aren’t you dead?”
“Because I ain’t. Why aren’t you happy about it?”
So. Many. Reasons. “Because I’ve moved on. And away from the Villachi stain.”
He snorted. “Yeah? Then let me in, and I’ll get out of your hair. I won’t even make a stink that I’m alive so you can still collect that fat insurance check I know you got coming.”
She had to let him in. The FBI needed him in. She needed him in. She stepped aside, wishing she could tell him she’d already canceled that insurance check.
He walked into the house, preening like a peacock. He smelled like perfume she didn’t recognize. Lucinda’s?
She closed the door behind him. “Why did you do it?”
He went down the hall toward his office. “Do what?”
“Fake your death.” Moron. She followed him, not about to let him go in there alone.
“Because I had no choice.” He flipped on the light in his office. “Why didn’t you let Lucinda in?”
Donna stood in the doorway. “How do you know I didn’t let Lucinda in?” Except she had let Lucinda in, so not only was Lucinda still in contact with Joe, she was lying to him. For what end?
He gave her an ugly look. “You think I’m not gonna stay in touch with my sister? Family means something to me.”
Not the family he’d made with her, obviously, but she was thankful for that. Hopefully, that meant the kids would be safe. “Then Big Tony knows you’re not really dead?”
He lunged at her, his speed impressive, considering. Only her own swiftness kept her throat out of his hands. Still, she’d allowed herself to move only a few inches out of his grasp so as not to arouse suspicion in him.
“Don’t you breathe a word to him, or I’ll kill you, you understand?”
“I want nothing to do with Big Tony, so don’t worry yourself.”
Threatening to kill her had to be something the FBI could use, but it wasn’t enough. Not to put him away for the length of time she wanted. She knew that. She wondered if Rico would confirm, but she didn’t hear anything from him.
Joe started to walk behind his desk. “Get out of here.”
She stayed put. “No. This is my house now. You’re the one who should leave. Get what you’re getting and get out.”
He glared at her. “You dumb piece of—”
“You’re wasting time. The longer you’re here, the longer you argue with me, the greater chance there is something will go wrong.”
If looks could kill vampires, she’d be dead. Then he turned his back on her and reached for a book on the shelf. The Godfather.
He was going for his secret stash room. This was going to be interesting.
But she had to work fast to get more out of him before he saw his stash room was empty. So she pressed, “What kind of game are you and Lucinda running, anyway?”
He hesitated, his hand on the book. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So the name Boris Reznikov means nothing to you?”
He pulled the book down and finally looked at her. “How do you know that name?”
“Because one of his lunks showed up here. Looking for you. And five million dollars.”
Joe grinned. “Those dumb Cossacks can look all they want. They ain’t getting it back.”
“So the money exists?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he snarled.
“What was your deal with them?”
“Why do you care?”
She needed him to share, and he was being his usual cagey self. Time to insult him. “So you had no deal. That makes more sense. I knew you couldn’t pull off something with the Russians unless Big Tony was in the mix. It was his doing, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, there was a deal all right, and it was all me.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you so interested? You wired? You working for Tony?”
She pulled her T-shirt up to show him her wireless torso. She realized a second later that meant Rico had probably just seen her in her bra. Whatever. She was glad she’d worn the nude lace. At least it was pretty. She pulled her T-shirt back down. “Not wired, not working for Tony. I just want to know, for once in my life, what’s going on.”
He stared at her, his gaze stuck on her chest for the moment. Finally, he made eye contact again. “You want to know what’s going on? Lucinda and I were going into business together because Tony is a cheap bastard, and it was time for the Barrones to get some. We made a deal with the Russians to distribute their drugs into our territories for a cut.”
“So what’s the five million for?”
A very familiar cockiness lifted his brows and the right corner of his mouth. He was pleased with the deal he’d made, that was for sure. He rolled his shoulders with a proud swagger. “Part of it is money I laundered for them. Part of it is payment for the first shipment. And part of it is for taking out one of the Ukrainians trying to cross into Russian territory.”
She almost smiled at his confession.
He shrugged. “Boris figured if I did that for him, it would seal the deal. So I did.”
Rico’s distant voice filled her ears. “That’s perfect. See if you can get him to tell you where the body is buried.”
She swallowed. She’d always suspected Joe of being capable of murder. But to actually hear him admit to it with such…pride. It was chilling. She tamped down her disgust. “You killed someone? I don’t believe you.”
“So what? It’s no skin off my nose.”
She had a sudden thought. “Was that the man who was in your car when it burned up?”
He grinned. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”
She hoped that was enough for Rico, because she was done talking about it. “You make me sick.”
“Like I care.” Joe reached into the open space where the book had been and pressed the button.
The bookshelf released with a hiss and began to swing open. She did her best to watch with feigned interest and surprise. After all, she wasn’t supposed to know this mystery room existed.
The light inside flickered on.
Joe snickered like he was so proud of himself for having this hidden room. For having kept one more secret from her.
Then he turned. And all laughing stopped.
Chapter Twenty-one
Donna inched toward the door, which put her at an angle to Joe and allowed her to glimpse his gaping mouth and rounded eyes.
She knew what he’d expected to see in that space. His drugs, his guns, his ledgers, but most important, his five million dollars. What he was actually looking at was an empty room.
“Any time, Rico,” she whispered.
“What the hell?” Joe turned toward her. He was livid. “Did you know about this? Did you do this?”
“Do what? This is your office. Look around you. I haven’t even started to clean it out.”
That seemed to calm him. Marginally. “Then who’s been here?”
Donna was almost at the door. She s
hrugged as she shook her head and put on her best oblivious face. “The only people who’ve been in here since you supposedly died are Big Tony and some of the boys. Vinnie. Franco. Nick.”
He came around the desk, leaving no obstacles between them. He stabbed a finger at the empty space. “You swear you had nothing to do with this?”
She put one hand in the air and grasped her crucifix with the other, holding it so he could see it. That was as far as she could go. “This is your office, Joe. You know I never came in here.”
She prayed that worked, because she couldn’t swear she had nothing to do with it when she’d had everything to do with it. Not with her hand on her crucifix, anyway. Not when there was any possibility that such a blatant lie might erase all its protective powers.
“Then where is my money?”
“Talk to Big Tony. Or Lucinda. The day of your funeral, I found her hovering around outside this door.” Not a lie. She wasn’t going to mention Lucinda looking for the photo. That seemed like something that might annoy him, and he was already irritated enough.
His mouth twisted. “Don’t bring my sister into this. I know she doesn’t have the money.”
Donna held up both her hands in surrender. “You asked who’s been around your office. I figured I should tell you—”
“You did this.” He stalked toward her.
She heard Rico’s voice again. “We’ve got all we’re going to get. Let’s take him in.”
Relief filled her, until Joe pulled out his phone and spoke into it. “Time to leave.”
Kowalski’s voice came through the walls next, fainter than Rico’s, but still understandable. “Hold up. He might not alone. An SUV just pulled up.”
Joe pointed at her. “You think this is over? You’re wrong. You’re gonna pay for this. Whatever your part. You’re gonna pay.”
The next thirty seconds blurred into the kind of slow-motion, fast-forward chaos that made reaction times meaningless no matter if you were vampire, werewolf, or human.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Joe glanced up and shoved past her, still talking into his phone. “It’s a setup, Carmella.”
Carmella? Who was that?
A woman’s voice came through the phone. “I got this.”
Two loud pops followed. Donna froze. Those were gunshots.
Kowalski’s voice was rough-edged with alarm. “Agent down. We have an agent down.”
Spurred into action by the terrible announcement, Donna went after Joe, determined not to let him get away.
She caught up with him as he was headed out the front door. An SUV rumbled in the driveway, a woman at the wheel. Carmella. Even at this distance, Donna picked up on her scent. The same perfume that clung to Joe. Had to be his new girlfriend. What a scumbag. “Joseph!”
At the sound of Donna calling his name, he stopped in the front yard and glanced back, eyes wild with desperation. Something dull and black glinted in his hand, caught in the faint moonlight. A gun. “You’re gonna pay, Donna. Snitches end up in ditches.”
She started down the steps after him. “And you’re going to get caught, Joe.” By her.
He backed toward the SUV, and a blinding flash of light erupted from his side.
He’d shot at her.
Searing pain followed as the bullet went through her.
The impact sent her sprawling onto the porch, gasping. Fire exploded across her side. She clutched at her belly.
Rico and Kowalski flew past, but Rico hesitated, looking back at her.
“Go,” she wheezed. “I’m okay.”
She wasn’t okay exactly, but she wasn’t going to die either. She hoped.
With a nod, he fled down the steps.
She crab-crawled back into the house and collapsed, head down on the carpet. Joe had actually shot her. He hadn’t been kidding. He really intended to make her pay.
The pain lessened a little. Or she was going into shock. Okay, that really needed not to happen. She tried to assess how bad things were. Her hand was on her stomach. And it was wet. She gingerly lifted it for a look, cringing as she saw what she’d expected. Blood.
The squeal of tires was followed by more pops of gunfire.
Her anger came back as she stared at the ceiling. Joe had freakin’ shot her. Just when she’d thought it wasn’t possible for him to be any worse of a husband than he already was. Her anger turned to protective rage. It spun up and spooled out into something larger than herself. Joe might come after her, but what if he went after the kids? She no longer cared what Rico or the FBI wanted.
Joe had used up all the patience she’d had left. It was time for her to take matters into her own hands.
Just as soon as she was no longer leaking blood from the holes in her back and belly.
Rico ran back in. “Donna, you still conscious?”
“Yes.”
He knelt next to her. “How bad is it?”
“Pretty sure the carpet’s ruined.”
He frowned at her. “I need to look.”
“Help yourself.”
He lifted her T-shirt. “Wound already looks smaller. Still bleeding, though. Did it go through?”
“No idea.”
“I’m going to check.” Carefully, he tilted her toward him and ran his hand over her back on the other side. He nodded. “Yep. Through and through, although that side is closing up too. You sure you’re okay?”
She did a quick head-to-toe assessment. The pain was there, but manageable. She no longer felt like she was going into shock. With some effort, she sat up. “I’m fine. Or soon will be. But I’ve never been angrier in my life. He freakin’ shot me.”
“I know. But the good news is we got enough to put him away for a long time.”
She narrowed her eyes and not just because of the pain in her side. “What’s the bad news?”
“Cheng got shot too.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“His shoulder will probably need surgery, but he should be.”
“Then that’s not so bad. It’s one more thing to use against him.”
“Joe didn’t shoot Cheng. The woman with him did.”
“Semantics.” But Rico wasn’t done. She could tell by the hesitation in his voice. “What else haven’t you told me?”
“Joe got away. We didn’t have vehicles close enough. And we didn’t anticipate that he’d have help.”
New, hot anger spilled through her like fresh lava. She stared at Rico. “How could you let that happen?”
Outside, the whine of an ambulance approached.
“Donna, your eyes are glowing. You can’t let the EMTs—”
“Bite me, Rico.” She got to her feet, causing new blood to trickle from the remaining wound and fresh pain to wash over her. That didn’t mean it wasn’t healing, but nothing happened instantly. She put a hand on the wall, glancing down. Her clothes were ruined. She couldn’t let Pierce see her like this. He was already going to lose it when she told him she’d been shot. Thankfully, she still had some clothes upstairs.
Rico stood, putting his hands on his hips. “Donna, we’ll get him.”
She straightened and turned toward the steps. “You’re officially off this case.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
She started up. “It does when one of us is a vampire.”
“Donna.”
She kept going. She no longer cared what Rico thought or what his fellow agents wondered about how she’d been shot but wasn’t dead or in need of medical assistance. She had to look after her own now. She took her phone out and called Temo.
“Yes, boss?”
“I’m ready.” The ambulance’s wail came through loud and clear. Must be close now. “How soon can you be here?”
“Ten minutes or so. Everything okay there? I hear sirens.”
“It’s fine enough. I’ll explain when I see you.” She paused. Ten minutes was a lot faster than she’d expected. “Where are you?”
His tone was a mix of amu
sement and apology. “At a place called Blue Bell’s Diner. Great pie.”
He hadn’t gone back to the penthouse like she’d told him to. She smiled as she walked into her bedroom. He was a good man. “They do have great pie. Get a bourbon-pecan and a chocolate silk to take back to the penthouse. I need sweets.”
“You got it. Be there as soon as they’re boxed up and the bill is paid.”
“If Nell’s your server, leave her an extra-good tip. I’ll cover it.”
“She is. Will do.”
“Bye.” Donna hung up and tossed her phone on the bed, then went into her closet to see what clothing was left. She found some well-worn pieces of her old uniform—a big sweatshirt and leggings. The sweatshirt had a small hole near the ribbing on the neck, and the leggings had a couple of bleach spots, but they weren’t soaked with blood, so they’d do.
She took them and her phone into the bathroom, locked the door, then stripped down and got in the shower.
The hot water stung the healing wound, so she soaped up fast. Once the blood was gone, she dried off and found some bandages under the sink. She fixed one on each side of the wound so that she wouldn’t get blood on her clean clothes. Hopefully, the bandages would last until she got home. Or maybe she’d be all healed by then.
Satisfied she’d done what she could, she got dressed, making sure to tuck Rixaline’s little wooden heart back into her bra for safekeeping. She dug around for a pair of old sneakers to wear. They had splatters of paint on them, which was why they hadn’t made it to the penthouse.
Finally, she bagged up the bloody clothes and took them downstairs via the front steps to stick in the trash.
Rico was in the kitchen talking to Kowalski. Another agent was in there with them. Franklin, she guessed. The conversation was deep and serious and a sufficient distraction for them not to see her.
She didn’t stop. She detoured to the garage to ditch the bag of clothes in the bin, then walked past the bloodstain on the carpet and out the door. More agents were outside, just arrived by the look of them. Some EMTs tended to the agent who’d been shot.
The house and the surrounding woods were lit up in blues and reds.
Suck It Up, Buttercup: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (First Fangs Club Book 2) Page 17