by Ali Vali
She started up with both guns pointed ahead, confident the custom clips that held fourteen rounds apiece would neutralize any problem. At the landing she saw that the upstairs was dark, so she gave her eyes time to adjust before she climbed the last few steps.
The stairs led to a hallway evenly divided in both directions as far as space, but on the side to the left, light spilled into it from the end room. Closer, she could make out where the noise was emanating from, and when the accelerator stopped she heard moaning. Whoever was in there was close to the breaking point, since the screams had stopped. Whatever Aubrey had gotten involved with since their last contact was seriously illegal to cause this kind of action on someone’s part. No one showed up at your house and threatened dismemberment with garden tools for cheating on your taxes, or for parking tickets. Could her sacrifice have been in vain?
“Where is it?” a man asked in a loud voice.
A long runner on the hardwood floors in the hallway helped muffle her steps as she moved closer. The room had a large four-poster bed against the opposite wall, neatly made and undisturbed. Whoever was conducting the motivated conversation was in the master bathroom, along with his helpers.
“Tell me where it is and all this stops,” the man said, in an almost soothing voice. The person’s answer was too muffled for Wiley to make out. “That’s your choice. Peanut, how about some more incentive?”
“Aubrey,” Wiley whispered into her headset, confident the noise of the saw would cover her voice.
“Please, Wiley, I don’t think we have much time.”
“I’m going to disconnect for a few minutes, but don’t panic, okay? Stay calm and I’ll call you right back.” She hung up and waited when she heard Peanut release the throttle.
“You think I like doing this shit?” The man’s question was clear, but so was the mixture of someone’s moans and crying. “I don’t, but I’m not leaving until you tell me what I want to know.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” A woman, Wiley guessed, gave the answer, stuttering through the words so badly it was hard to understand her. The person sounded hoarse from crying, though, making their voice deep and raspy, so it could’ve been a man. Whoever the poor bastard was, they’d pissed off the wrong people.
“There’s no way out, you know that, right? And if you don’t tell me in the time you have left, I’m going to ask the pretty lady you live with when she gets home.”
“No!”
“Marko, go downstairs and wait for the missing members of the family. Peanut, we’re ready for another round.”
Wiley stepped back farther into the dark hallway and waited. It didn’t take long before Marko appeared, his white T-shirt covered in blood, as were his face and arms. She waited until he made it to the threshold before she put a shot in the middle of his forehead. As soon as the bullet left the chamber she ran forward, hoping to catch him before he hit the ground, but his weight and height worked against her. The short, chunky Marko fell on his back like someone had pulled a rug from under his feet, unfortunately in the part of the bedroom not covered by the tasteful Persian carpet.
“Marko, what the shit?”
She didn’t have anywhere to hide now that she was in the room, and the man who asked the question sounded closer, as if he was walking out of the bathroom to investigate. The instincts Wiley attributed to the Black Dragon took over, and she kept moving toward the bathroom door. The first man she encountered died with his mouth in a tight O, as if he was poised to utter the word who, and the guy by the tub went down quickly, his final reflex pressing the chain saw throttle to the maximum until it died when it skittered along the enamel tub.
A woman cuffed to the shower head was dead from the large, gruesome gash that’d almost severed her head from her shoulders. With so much blood and gore covering her and the shower walls, it would’ve been impossible to determine the person’s sex, but the torturers had cut away every bit of clothing.
The next step would take some planning, but Aubrey was her priority now. She pressed Redial on her phone, which barely rang once before Aubrey answered. “Are you in the attic?” she asked in a normal tone.
“Yes.” Aubrey still whispered.
She walked down the hall searching for the light switch that would make it easier to navigate the area. “I’m going to open the ladder, so don’t be scared.”
“You’re here?”
“Right below you.” Wiley gripped the cord that would bring Aubrey back into her life, at least for the night. “Can you make it to the opening?” The sounds of movement made her holster one gun and tuck the other into the waistband of her jeans. As she rested her hands on the step at chest level, she looked up and saw Aubrey standing at the edge.
The years had changed Aubrey some, but not much. She was still tall and slim, but her face appeared more angular and mature in a way that reminded her of Aubrey’s mom. The older Tarver had been a classic beauty whom Aubrey had resembled from childhood in every way except personality. Both of them would stop conversation when they entered a room and made whoever was on the receiving end of those ice-crystal-blue eyes feel like lady luck had landed in their back pocket.
“It’s okay to come down,” she said, stepping back.
“I don’t know why you’re in town, but thank God,” Aubrey said, her back to her as she climbed down. “It’s okay, honey. Wiley’s a friend.”
The comment made her look up, since she’d assumed that the we Aubrey kept referring to was the dead woman in pieces in the shower. A kid stood there peering back at her, so why the hell had what appeared to be a drug-ordered hit taken place in a house where Aubrey lived with a child?
“What happened to those guys?” the kid asked, not budging.
“They’re gone.” Technically she wasn’t lying, but the girl didn’t need to see the first guy she’d dealt with lying in plain view of the open master-bedroom doorway. “Hang on a minute, though,” she said, walking over and kicking the guy’s legs out of the way to close the door. “Bring her down, Aubrey.”
Aubrey stared at her as if she should be afraid of trading three dangerous strangers for one old friend, but she blinked and the trepidation was gone. “Thanks for that.” The young girl came down and put her arms around Aubrey’s waist, acting as if Wiley was wearing an outfit made of live rattlesnakes that’d strike if she got too close.
“You can’t stay here, so grab some stuff for her. You can stay with me tonight.”
“Tanith, pack some clothes and your books, and I’ll be in to help in a second.” Aubrey had to break the hold the kid had on her to get her to move. “It’s really okay, I promise.”
Tanith walked to the first room on the other side of the stairs, glancing back every few steps. “There are two guys in your bedroom, and two more bodies in the bath. I realize you might need to pack a bag, but it’s going to have to wait.”
“For what? I don’t want to be here ever again.”
“It’s not pretty in there, and we’ll have to discuss the whys of what happened, but you’re going to have to report this tonight.”
“Why?”
“Aubrey, you live here, right?” She nodded. “You can’t erase yourself from this house in the time the neighbors figure out four dead people are in here,” she whispered, since Tanith was hovering around her door.
“Four, you said?” Aubrey asked, as if she’d just started paying attention. “No one’s alive?”
“There were three men and a woman, and yes, they’re all gone. Who was the woman to you? She was the reason those guys were here.”
“Maria Ross.” Aubrey blinked rapidly with her head cocked back as she said the name. “We lived together.”
“I’m sorry, but I got here too late.” By years, but it wasn’t the time to get into that. The façade of a happy family living in the perfect house bought with drug money made Wiley think she was an asshole for crying over Aubrey from the moment she walked away from her. She’d accepted what’d happene
d and that Aubrey would move on, but this wasn’t the direction she had in mind.
“What happened? What did they do to her?” The tears pooled in Aubrey’s eyes until they fell in fat drops down her high cheekbones.
“Not now,” Wiley said, pointing toward Tanith, who stood in the hall with two bags. “Which car is yours?”
“The old Accord,” Aubrey said, she and Tanith following Wiley down the stairs and stopping to stare at the mess in the kitchen.
“My bike is around the corner, so take Tanith and drive to the drugstore a few blocks down, but don’t pull into the parking lot. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes and you can follow me the rest of the way.” She wanted to drive them since Aubrey looked like she was in shock, but if Aubrey wanted a clean break from this, there were things to do. “Take your time, and try like hell to not get pulled over for any reason.”
“Where are you going?”
“To make sure none of this follows you out of here.”
Chapter Four
The bar Maria owned was starting to fill with businesspeople staying at the Hilton. Through the glass wall, the view of the Mississippi River from the third-floor location was spectacular. A three-man band was playing close to the entrance, but not so loud that conversation was impossible. The crowd of men in white shirts with their ties loosened sat in clusters with martini glasses in hand, telling stories of their conquests that day.
“What time is it?” Nunzio Luca tapped his feet impatiently. This was his first time back in New Orleans after a disastrous trip a year and a half before had ended with him watching his lover Kim Stegal get her throat cut.
Kim’s death had left him unsure how to save the strides he’d made from Biloxi to New Orleans to establish a drug pipeline to the north. He’d succeeded thanks to a partnership with Big Gino Bracato, but he’d stupidly messed with the existing power structure in New Orleans, with devastating consequences.
The loss of Kim, who had been not only his lover but his best advisor, had rocked him, but the pain continued two days later. Before he could get home to face the wrath of his father, Junior, the assassin he’d hired turned on him and put a bullet through Junior’s head.
His father hadn’t kept quiet about his opinion of him, so at Junior’s death a few of his captains had challenged Nunzio for control. The backing of his grandfather had kept him on top, but the old man expected results. Nunzio had to not only regain the business they’d lost, but also avenge Junior’s death.
He’d used the time to find new suppliers and try to form new alliances to move product without much help from the men who’d worked for Junior. Progress had been slow, but moving too fast had been his mistake before.
“He’s ten minutes late,” Tracy Stegal said, nodding when the waitress pointed to them.
Nunzio probably wouldn’t have bothered with Kim’s sister, but he owed it to his lover to provide for Tracy like Kim had. Paying Tracy’s way through school wasn’t all Kim did for her, and after spending some obligatory time with Tracy, he offered her a job when she displayed a good head for strategy. It would take more experience to get Tracy to the same level as Kim, but she should become a great advisor.
“Is he bringing his mystery boss with him?” Nunzio asked, his gaze on the entrance. So far he saw no sign of Mitch Surpass, the point man for the new supply chain for uncut cocaine into the country. Mitch was always willing to provide whatever they asked for, but would never finalize a decision without checking with his boss first. Nunzio still had no clue who that was, and Mitch wasn’t forthcoming.
“He just said he had an answer for you about the supply available for sale, and how he plans to get it to you.”
“He isn’t the only one we can deal with, so he better ditch the cloak-and-dagger shit.” Another group of businesspeople walked in, took a table close to theirs, and immediately yelled at the waitress, making Nunzio lose the last of his patience. “Five more minutes and that’s it.”
As if realizing his opportunity to do business with him was about to evaporate, Mitch Surpass stopped at the door and scanned the room. Considering Mitch had picked the location, Nunzio figured if anyone was watching they’d be easy to spot because of the way Mitch was dressed. The tall blond was rail thin and appeared more so in his baggy cargo shorts and T-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
“Is this guy kidding?”
Mitch smiled toward the bar before he joined them, prompting one of the waitresses to deliver a beer without him having to order. Nunzio became even more nervous since too much regularity in their business wasn’t a good thing, especially when they used places like this to conduct deals.
“My apologies, Mr. Luca, but some shit came up I couldn’t get out of,” Mitch said, his wide smile still in place.
“Was it election night at your skateboarding club?” Nunzio asked, still irked at the long wait.
“I was working and figured you didn’t want to spend another hour here while I was changing clothes,” Mitch said, his smile disappearing. “If you can’t let it go that’s fine, but good luck trying to get another meeting.”
“You have that many people lined up willing to buy in the quantities we discussed?” He drained the last of his drink and slammed the glass on the table. Beside him Tracy shook her head at the approaching server to keep him from ordering another one. He made a mental note to remind her he already had a mother, since he didn’t want to call her down in front of this asshole. “If you do, then give them a call. If not, stop talking to me like I’m new to this game.”
“This isn’t the best way to begin our relationship, so why don’t we start over,” Mitch said, smiling again. “I can’t ignore problems in my business, like I know you can’t when shit arises, but we’ll have a profitable partnership if you’re willing to forgive me this time. In the future I’ll give Tracy a call if I plan to be late.”
“Fine.” Nunzio scanned the room again for anyone too interested in their conversation.
“The bar belongs to a friend, Mr. Luca. Believe me, it’s safe from nosy patrons,” Mitch said, obviously noticing his every action.
“If you know so much, then tell me when I’ll be meeting with your boss. You have to realize nothing will go down until that happens.”
“I made it clear to Tracy, since she arranged all this. You’ll be dealing with me, and strictly with me.” Mitch took a sip of his beer, keeping eye contact with him over the rim of the glass. “We’d love to do business with you, but our terms are nonnegotiable.”
“Then you really must think I’m new to this, Mr. Surpass,” he said, trying to make his name sound like a curse word. “I walk away from this and we’re done. Good luck to you getting me back to the table.” He threw the threat back at him. “After I do walk I’ll put word on the street that anyone doing business with you is buying from confiscated shit the DEA is using for their sting operation. You and your secretive boss can take turns dipping your dicks into all that product, since you’ll be waist-high in it. No one’s going to be interested.”
“No one likes to be reminded of their mistakes, but this is a good time for a history lesson.” Mitch had lowered his voice but he appeared as tense as a guitar string about to snap when he leaned forward. “Your clout on the street lost some punch when someone shot your father and Junior told anyone who’d sit long enough what a cruel joke from fate you were. Fuckup was his favorite nickname for you, but there were others. You’ve gained some ground since then, but not enough to sit here and threaten me. My being here at all is a gift, so why don’t you cut the shit.”
Nunzio stared at Mitch the entire time he was talking and was ready to shoot him between the eyes when he finished, consequences be damned. The feel of Tracy’s hand on his thigh made him bite off the response he had ready, and for that he was grateful to her. This guy wasn’t worth throwing away what he’d worked hard to build for himself without his father’s shadow tainting any of it. Patience now, though, wouldn’t save this son of a bitch. Mitch and his
smug smile weren’t long for this world.
“Shut up before you fuck up any more than you have already,” Tracy said, squeezing Nunzio’s leg gently as she spoke to Mitch. “Junior’s dead, so whatever opinion he had about anyone, especially my boss, isn’t important to anyone of consequence. Forgive my disrespect, Mr. Luca, but your father, for as much as he talked about you, is the one who ended up with a bullet in the head. That should clear up any misconceptions you and your boss have on that subject, Mitch. You aren’t our only option, and you’re the one who fucked this up. That’s all the reputation on the street we’ll need because, according to you, we’re desperate. Who passes on that kind of deal unless you’re the cops?”
If he’d closed his eyes, Nunzio wouldn’t have a problem imagining Kim sitting next to him. Tracy sounded powerful enough for him to believe she’d shoot Mitch for his honesty, and from Mitch’s expression, so did he.
“How about we start over one more time?” Mitch said after another sip of his beer. His smile was back in place, but the way he opened and closed his hands made Nunzio think he was suddenly nervous.
“How about you fuck off?” Tracy said, glancing quickly at him as if checking to see if she’d overstepped herself. He almost laughed at the puckering Mitch’s asshole had to be doing, but only nodded. “Tell your boss we’ll be taking our money and our chances elsewhere.”
“Mr. Luca,” Mitch said, turning away from Tracy, “no one else’s going to give you the guarantee we can.”
“Take the lady’s advice and fuck off, asshole,” Nunzio said as he stood and threw thirty bucks on the table. “You can play games with somebody else, and I’m going to take my fifteen million somewhere else.”
He gladly followed Tracy out of the bar to the elevators not far from the entrance. Their suite was midway up, facing the river, and they didn’t start talking again until Nunzio closed the door. He’d brought only two other guys with him, both new to his crew, and they were a few rooms down. The meeting with Mitch had been the first time he’d been out since their arrival because he didn’t want anyone to recognize them.