That got Joey’s attention. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
The other man merely smiled, but Joey felt the cold finger of unease. It teased a line up his spine and had him glancing toward his pistol. No way would the boss do anything stupid – he’d be cutting his own throat if he did – but he could make things pretty uncomfortable for Joey if he really wanted to.
“I stopped by the warehouse on my way back into town today.”
The warehouse. Shit.
Joey considered lying, but eased back, spread his hands. “Hey. A man’s gotta have some fun. I been stuck in that damn hospital for months.” He lit his own cigarette, feeling a lot more chipper. Boss might be pissed, but Joey was the one with connections. “Is that bitch still alive?”
“Oh she’s alive. Unconscious, probably hypothermic, but still alive. Your co-worker, down at the hospital? I noticed the ID tag among her effects.”
Effects. What a prissy-assed word. “Yeah.” Joey let himself grin. “Dumb bitch has been hounding me from day one, and I been feeling a little… tense lately, so I figured I’d blow off some steam. But she got sick, put a kink in my plans. Of course my plans were already pretty kinky.”
They both laughed, and Joey linked his fingers behind his head. Hell, he’d been friggin’ paranoid for nothing. He knew the boss himself appreciated a little kink, so this was really no big deal. Like he said before, dispose of the body properly and it was almost impossible to prove foul play.
“Do you think it was wise to target someone you work with?” the other man inquired calmly, still dragging on his cigarette. “If you’ve had an openly volatile relationship in the past, that’s bound to come out.”
Joey shrugged, because he really didn’t see the problem. “Don’t worry yourself, man. No one saw me leave with her. I already took care of her car, and I’ll get her out of the warehouse tonight. I’ll get rid of the body where it’ll never be found and no one will be the wiser.”
“Just like you got rid of Allie Beaumont’s body.”
“That’s right. It’s only one of my many talents.” As much fun as he was having just shootin’ the shit, Joey was tired, and snuck a glance at his watch. “Look, not that I don’t appreciate you droppin’ by and all, by if I’m gonna take care of that piece of business, I’m going to need a little rest.”
The boss laughed again, but something about all this damn joviality just didn’t seem right. “The police found Miz Beaumont’s body.”
“What?” Joey’s fingers slid away from his head. “She’s under about a thousand tons of concrete and steel. What do you mean they found her body?”
“You idiot. That project was shut down. We ran into a bunch of red tape – most of it from the mayor’s office. And that concrete that was poured? They jack-hammered it back up. Which is when they found the remains of our lovely little Allie.” The boss leaned forward, oblivious of the smoldering ash which dropped from the end of his cigarette to burn a hole in the carpet. “You disposed of her in the one place that would tie directly back to me!”
At the look on the boss’s face Joey felt his blood freeze up in his veins. “How was I supposed to know? There was a damn hotel supposed to be built on top of her!”
“This is your problem, Joey. You just don’t use your head. First you allow yourself to be almost caught by a bartender, of all things, and then you fail to kill him. And while I’m attempting to deal with that little fiasco, you bury the mayor’s daughter’s body on my property. I stick you in the hospital, out of my way, watching over a vegetable, for God’s sake, and you even manage to screw that up. You have the poor taste to start raping young girls and then you make the stupid decision to abduct a co-worker.”
“Hey,” Joey protested, feeling both nervous and a little irate. Who the hell was he calling a screw-up? “I didn’t rape nobody.” Not recently, anyway. It was the one thing he could totally deny.
“Oh, but you did, Joey. You abducted three young women that the police know of, raping them in the back of your white van.”
“What?” Joey demanded in confusion. “I don’t have no white…” And suddenly it started to sink in. The white van parked in his spot. “You’re trying to set me up, ain’t you?”
“I’m not trying to set you up, Joey. I’m succeeding.”
“I’m not going to go to prison for you,” Joey said hotly.
“No,” the boss agreed, calm now. “You’re not.”
Joey finally understood the situation, and his hand darted toward his gun. But his fingers came up empty, the gun no longer on the table. He froze as he heard it cock behind him, felt the barrel press into his head. “You’ll never get away with this.” Rage flowed through him along with terror. He couldn’t see the man behind him, but included him in his warning as well. “My uncle will cut your peckers off and feed them to you in pieces.”
“So graphic,” said the familiar voice behind him, “but then you always did have a foul mouth.”
At that Joey’s bowels loosened. He almost shit his pants. “Uncle Vinny?”
“See there, Vincent” the boss said conversationally, “maybe the boy’s not as stupid as you thought.”
“A real credit to the family name.”
The boss laughed, and Joey felt sick. “Uncle Vinny? How’s Ma doin’?”
The pistol barrel smacked his head. “You wouldn’t have to ask if you called her once in a while, you little shit. You’re no better than that no-good idiot that spawned you.”
Joey knew he was in serious trouble if Vinny was comparing him to his dad. The heavy-handed bastard had “run off” years ago, and Joey was pretty damn certain his uncle had killed him. “Yeah,” he said, trying to put some enthusiasm in his voice. His mother was a relentless nag, but Vinny thought the sun rose and set on her head. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with her, but I’ve just been so damn busy at that hospital. I’ll give her a call tomorrow.”
Vinny didn’t say a word.
“Nice try,” the boss said. “But I’m afraid tomorrow you’ll be cooling your heels in the morgue.”
Joey’s stomach turned over, his only muscle not paralyzed with fear. “You can’t do this,” he said desperately. “It’ll never work.”
“It will work exceedingly well. You see, you’ve left a victim to identify you. She’s unconscious right now, of course, so she didn’t notice it when we moved her, but when the police find her in the back of that van it will all come together nicely. That and the other evidence we’ve planted will convince them that they’ve discovered the identity of their serial rapist, who began his spree of twisted violence by raping and killing the mayor’s only daughter. A pity, that. Allison was truly a lovely girl.”
“But my fingerprints,” Joey stammered, the barrel of the gun crunching against his temple. His uncle’s finger on the trigger. “You shoot me and there’ll be an investigation. The police will figure out that my prints don’t match the ones on file at the hospital. Goodbye, Tony Salinas, hello Joey Santone. It’ll lead back to the family eventually. It just won’t work, Uncle Vinny. Come on, now, put the gun down and we’ll talk about it, okay? We can work somethin’ out.”
“Now he thinks we’re stupid,” Vinny said over his head.
The boss laughed, and Joey started to squirm. They were going to shoot him, he knew it. His only chance was to distract them long enough to get the gun away from Vinny. “I never thought you was stupid, Uncle Vinny. You was always the smartest guy I knew.”
“I believe he’s trying to butter you up, Vincent.”
“Nah, I’m not tryin’ to butter you up, Vinny. I just know you’re a good guy. I know you wouldn’t have the heart to shoot your baby sister’s only son.”
“You’re right,” said his uncle, coolly. “Why waste a perfectly good bullet?”
The gun slipped away, and Joey thought now, but before he could make a grab for it his uncle’s knife bit into his throat. It burned a path from ear to ear, and Joey grabbed at it with
fingers gone slippery with the pumping blood. His vision grew dim, gray creeping in, and the boss’s voice came through a tunnel, followed by the flick of the cigarette lighter before the last of his senses shut down.
“It’s a pity your mother never told you about the many dangers of smoking.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JOSH put down the sandwich he’d been eating when he got a text from the detective with whom he’d been working the rape cases. He hoped to God there hadn’t been another attack – if so, their perp was escalating radically – but figured since she was contacting him, the odds were pretty good that was the case. And so far, other than the tattoo, he’d gotten nada in terms of a sketch. They knew the guy was big, dark, but the stocking he wore over his face disguised his features just enough to make them blurry. Factor in the women’s pain and terror, not to mention that he always struck at night, and it made his job next to impossible. Fighting back the nausea that threatened, Josh obliged her request and punched in Detective Casey’s number.
“Please tell me you called because you missed me.”
“Ha!” Michelle barked in answer. “You wish, Harding. Not that you’re not pretty, but I’ve got other things on my mind.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that. Another one?”
“Well, it certainly looks that way. We’ve got an unidentified Caucasian female in intensive care at East Cooper Regional.”
Intensive care. Shit. He was definitely escalating. “What’s she doing across the river?” The East Cooper Regional Medical Center was located in the town of Mount Pleasant, which lay just north of the city.
“This is where they found her. There was an early morning house fire in a condominium complex over here, and when the firefighters checked the van which was parked in front of the unit, they found our Jane Doe in the back. She was naked, unconscious, suffering from both hypothermia and smoke inhalation, if you can believe that combination. The internal exam was inconclusive, so we won’t know for sure what happened until she wakes up, but a detective over here was on the ball enough to put together our BOLO regarding the white van in connection with any rapes, and figured he’d give us a call. I thought it would be a good idea for you to be with me when I talk to her, see if we can connect this to the others. She’s sedated, but the doc says she should be coming around soon.”
“Okay.” Josh chucked the rest of his sandwich in the waste basket. “Were you able to run the plates?”
“Yeah, and surprise, surprise, it turns out the tag was stolen.”
“What about the van?”
“No registration in the glove box and the VIN has been conveniently removed from the engine block. The forensic techs are going over it as we speak, although it sustained a bit of heat and smoke damage from the fire. It’s a good thing there are courtyard thingies in front of the units, because if it had been parked any closer it probably would have gone up, too. The vic was pretty lucky.”
Josh thought that assessment was probably up for debate. “So how about this fire? Does the van belong to the unit that burned?”
“Well, this is where it all gets interesting. The neighbors say they’ve never seen it there before. The guy who lived in the unit drives a silver Camaro that he’s real prickly about.”
Josh noted the past tense. “He’s dead?”
“Well, that remains to be seen but we have one unidentified crispy critter in the unit which caught fire. The fire marshals are poking around and doing their thing, so no word yet as to what caused it. The unit is leased to one Tony Salinas…” Josh heard the flip of pages as Michelle checked her notes, “who, according to the paperwork he filled out when he leased the unit, is the owner of a 2002 Camaro – whereabouts currently unknown – and an employee of MUSC hospital.”
All the fine hair lifted off Josh’s nape. “The victim – is there any chance she’s about five-five, brown hair and eyes?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to get in to see her yet. Why?” Michelle’s voice grew suspicious. “You know something I don’t?”
“I don’t know.” God, could it possibly be Karen Davis? “But I think we’re both about to find out. Hang tight, Michelle, and I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”
“YOU’RE back,” Sam said in reaction to the warm hands which clamped over her eyes as she rummaged in the supply closet for extra beer nuts.
“How did you know it was me?” Dane asked with an odd mixture of curiosity, disappointment and pleasure. Sam tried not to analyze that too much.
“Because you’re the only person who ever sets foot in this place that smells like a cologne ad, mixed with a dash of salt and sun.” She pried his fingers away from her face, discomfited by their masculine presence. She turned to face him, backed up a step, keeping the box of bar snacks between them. “You’re lucky I did know it was you, though, otherwise you’d have been lying on the floor clutching some pertinent body parts. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it isn’t polite to sneak up on unsuspecting women in cramped closets?”
Dane laughed and took the box from her hands. He looked like he should be discussing the finer points of his portfolio over caviar rather than consorting with her while schlepping beer nuts. “I’m afraid Mother never covered that particular lesson. But I appreciate your assistance with correcting my etiquette.”
Sam snorted and edged around him. “That’s me. Miss Manners.”
He followed her out of the storage closet and back towards the bar. “How have things been while I was away?”
Sam pulled out a chair and began dumping nuts into plastic bowls. “The usual,” she assured him, as Dane flipped another chair around so he could straddle it. “Luke poured beer; I served it. Rinse and repeat as necessary.”
“Have you heeded my advice and taken a little time off yet or have you been working yourself to the bone? And I’ll remind you that Luke’s right behind me and will tell me if you’re lying. Isn’t that right, Luke?” he called over his shoulder.
“Anything you say, Boss.”
“Outstanding employee, that Luke. Exemplary attitude.” He gave Sam an assessing look. “You have shadows beneath your eyes.” He reached across the table to brush one with his thumb. Again Sam was caught off guard. “It’s just been a… hectic week,” she told him truthfully.
“Hectic because you pick up every available shift here and then spend the rest of your time at the hospital,” Dane shot back. “When do you sleep, Samantha? Although staying in that apartment of your brother’s I imagine you need to keep one eye open. It’s a wonder you can sleep at all.”
Sam’s hands stilled over the beer nuts, and she looked at him in confusion. Where had this sudden concern come from? He was starting to sound like Josh. “Actually, I’ve been staying with a friend this week. I sort of moved out of the apartment.”
“That’s wonderful,” he flashed a million dollar smile, beaming approval all over her. “That move was long overdue. Donnie living there was one thing, but a single, attractive female quite another. So who are you staying with? Sherry?”
“No. I –”
Sunlight suddenly poured through the bar’s front door, backlighting the figure stepping through it. It took Sam’s eyes a moment to adjust, and when they had she blinked in surprise. “Actually, here’s my… condo-mate right now.”
Dane turned, his own surprise apparent. He obviously hadn’t been expecting the likes of Josh, but then, neither had Sam. She knew he was crazy busy at work and the Roadhouse wasn’t exactly his milieu. Then she thought about all the possible reasons he would want to talk to her in person and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
JOSH spotted Sam at one of the back tables, noted the wary expression on her lovely face. And as always, he was so taken with the sight of her that he almost missed the fact that she had company. The man sitting across from her, expression startled, looked like he just stepped off the pages of the Harvard Review. Dane Wilcox, no doubt. Josh had to admit that Chris was right. He wa
s the All-American frat boy. The type voted most likely to succeed, who had the coolest car, and unerringly got the hottest girl.
And he was sitting awfully close to Sam.
Josh hated him on sight.
The man apparently held a similar opinion, because his eyes narrowed territorially as Josh approached. The sonofabitch. And if what he had to talk about with Sam wasn’t so damn important, Josh might have enjoyed a little stand-off. But unfortunately it was, so he left the horn-locking and leg-lifting to another time.
“Hey.” He countered the arctic breeze coming off of the other man with a warm smile for Sam. And when he dropped a kiss on top of her head, the breeze turned into a gale. Dude was so not pleased by this turn of events. Josh would nail his negligee-buying ass to the wall yet. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute? It’s important.”
“UM, sure.” Sam was a little startled by that kiss. And by the weird vibe he was putting off. Like he was trying to give Dane the impression they were…
No. That was ridiculous. And if he were doing anything of the sort it was only because he still had some kind of suspicions about Dane, which was patently ridiculous also. Like one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire southeast would have even the slightest interest in her. “Uh, Josh Harding this is Dane Wilcox. Dane, this is the friend I was telling you about.”
“Mr. Harding,” Dane said coolly, extending his elegant hand.
“Detective,” Josh corrected, squelching a smile at the trepidation that flashed in Wilcox’s eyes. The man had something to hide, no doubt about it. Josh couldn’t wait to rout it out. They shook briefly, each squeezing harder than strictly necessary, a miniature pissing-contest neither could resist.
They eyed each other with contempt.
“Well… Detective, I’ll leave you to your important conversation.” He rose from the chair and offered it begrudgingly to Josh, drawing himself up to emphasize his superior height. Josh resisted the urge to break the chair and brain him with one of the legs. Then the bastard turned a mega-watt smile on Sam. “Sam, darling, I’ll be in my office in case you need me.”
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