Cat's Paw (Veritas Book 1)

by Chandler Steele

  “No, that’s ridiculous,” Miri said. “I’m going home.”

  “No, you’re not. It’s too dangerous. I have some stuff to get straightened out, and—”

  “Stuff?” She glowered at him. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into now?”

  He had no choice but to tell her some of the truth, though he knew it would only make her angrier. “The woman from last night? Morgan? She’s part of a private security agency.”

  “So?”

  He lowered his voice. “I’m going to be working with them to bring down a Russian drug lord. That way, I can prove that I was innocent. Get my record cleared.”

  Or at least that was the carrot Veritas had dangled in front of him. It could all be a lie, but now he had no choice.

  She stared at him. “That’s all that’s important to you, isn’t it? That the world knows you’re innocent?”

  Alex shook his head, growing angry as well. “No. The most important thing in my life is you. Nothing else. If anything happened . . . ” His voice caught as he trailed off. He cleared his throat. “I need you someplace safe. I can’t do my job worrying about you all the time.”

  “Why can’t we just leave? Go somewhere else? Start over?”

  “I’d love to, Monkey, but the Russians will find us.”

  “Why do they care about you? I mean, you’re just an ex-con.”

  That was brutally honest and hurt more than it should.

  “They say I owe them because they kept me alive in the joint. Kept me from being . . . ” No, he couldn’t tell her that.

  Miri’s eyes widened, indicating that she’d filled in the missing word. “That really happens in there?”

  “Yes. Men get . . . raped, too.”

  “You?”

  “No, but it got damned close.”

  “Oh God.” She looked away, her eyes growing moist. “There’s no other way?”

  “No, I’m sorry, there isn’t.”

  She wiped away a lone tear. “So is the Morgan lady going to be my babysitter?”

  “No, it’s a guy named Neil. Morgan says he’s the best.”

  “You’re ditching me with some dude you don’t know?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “He could be a pervert or something.”

  “I’ve been called many things, but never a perv,” the man said as he entered the room.

  Miri sized up the newcomer. “You’re the bullet catcher?”

  “I prefer the term bodyguard,” he replied. “We have a safe place to hide you until your brother finishes his business with us.”

  “What if I refuse to go there with you?”

  “Then whoever worked you over last night will get another shot at you,” Neil replied. “Next time he’ll do a helluva lot more than try to stash your body next to his spare tire.”

  Miri’s eyes widened.

  “These people are trying to help both of us,” Alex added. “We’re in over our heads now, and it’s not because of anything either of us have done.”

  “I don’t want anyone watching over me. Why can’t I just go home? I’ll stay there. I won’t answer the door.”

  Neil moved closer now, arms crossed over his chest. “I can get into your house in under ten seconds, no matter how many locks you have in place. If I’m a pervert, I will do whatever I want to you and nobody will hear you scream. If I’m a Russian assassin, all it takes is one shot to the head. Or I could cut your throat if I’m really into sending a brutal message to your brother. Either way, you’re dead, or worse than dead. It’s just that simple.”

  Miri paled even more, sucking in a tight breath.

  Alex held his own breath, hating Neil for being so graphic, but maybe the man’s instincts were right. She had to agree to this on her own.

  Then that flare of defiance flashed in his sister’s eyes, the one he remembered so well. “I got it. I’m a victim and only you big, strong males can save me. Well, that’s bullshit.”

  “Miri—” Alex began.

  “No. I am going to my house.” She pointed at Neil. “If you want to keep me alive, then you’re there with me. If not, adios, buddy.”

  Neil’s rock-hard expression cracked a bit. “It’s not safe at your place.”

  “I understand that, but right now it’s all I’ve got. So are you in or out?”

  Alex and Neil traded looks.

  “I’m in,” Neil said. “With a fuck ton of protest.”

  “Got that. I have a few tricks up my sleeve too, at least once my head stops pounding,” Miri said, the defiance draining away now. She looked at Alex. “This is all legal, right?”

  “Totally.”

  Her eyes moved back to Neil, still guarded. “You any good, Bullet Catcher?”

  “I’ve been told I am,” he replied evenly.

  “So you have a black belt or something?”

  “Krav Maga.”

  Miri shot Alex a questioning look.

  “It’s a form of defense taught by the Israeli military. It means he’s seriously badass.”

  She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “How long do I have to hide out with this seriously badass dude?”

  “Until it’s done,” Alex said. Or I’m dead.

  “What if something happens to you?” she asked, quieter now, almost as if she’d heard his thoughts.

  “I’ll be very careful,” he said.

  “He’ll be working with Morgan, the woman from last night at the bar. If I had to have someone watch my back, it’d be her,” Neil said.

  Apparently that did the trick, as Miri gave a stiff nod of agreement. “Okay, you got me for one week. Get it sorted out, bro, because I’m gone if you don’t.”

  “I’ll set everything in motion,” Neil said, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “He’s got a big rod up his ass,” Miri said.

  “Yeah, but he’ll keep you safe. When this is done, we’ll move on. Go someplace new and start over.”

  “Promise?”

  Alex nodded. “There’s one other thing you need to know. Your cat . . . is dead.”

  “What?” she blurted. “How?”

  “Someone killed him. I found him in the trash can. I think it might have been the guy from last night.” Or a message to me. “I’m so sorry, Miri.”

  “No, Mr. Toes . . . ” she murmured. She reached for Alex and they hugged for a long time, her tears wetting his collar. He fought not to add some of his own, not just for the death of a pet, but the near loss of the only person he loved.

  “You really didn’t steal the drugs, did you?” she whispered into his ear.

  “No, I didn’t. I would never have done something like that to you.”

  She let him go. “So who did? That evil ex-wife of yours?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ll find out soon enough.”

  Miri took a long breath and released it slowly. “Then go do what you have to do, but I swear, if you die on me I’ll hate you forever.”

  Alex smiled. “You stay smart and stay safe. I don’t trust most people, but I think this Neil guy will be there for you.”

  “He damned well better,” she said firmly.

  Alex found the taciturn man standing guard just outside the door.

  “Morgan is waiting for you downstairs in the parking lot,” Neil announced.

  Alex took one last glance toward his sister’s room.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be safe with me,” he added more quietly.

  Alex studied the man who now held Miri’s life in his hands. “I told her I trusted you, but if you’re just blowing smoke up my ass and anything happens to her—”

  Neil speared him with a steel-cold look. “I don’t blow smoke, Parkin, not about this kind of thing. I had a sister once, and I wasn’t there to keep her alive. I know what that fear is like.”

  Shit. “Got it. And I’m sorry she died.”

  Neil’s eyes remained frosty. “Believe me, so are the bastards who killed her.”

  Chapter Nine

&nb
sp; All Morgan said when she picked him up was, “You made the right decision, Parkin.”

  “Jury’s still out on that,” he’d replied.

  No matter how he looked at it, he was hosed. Without trying, he’d put himself between two powerful organizations, either of which would be happy to roll right over him in pursuit of their goals. In the Russians’ case, he’d be screaming gator bait.

  Despite their reputation, he didn’t completely trust Veritas, either. They were just a little too good to be true. Still, Morgan had protected his sister, and that had earned her a few points, at least until she did something that erased them. Which he knew would come soon enough.

  Morgan’s phone rang just as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “Yeah?” She paused. “Oh hell. When?” She looked at Alex and then back to the road. “Okay. Is Odin up to working today?” She listened for a time. “Okay, then we’ll do a search on our own. What?” More words, then, “Yeah, that’ll work. Bring him to Parkin’s sister’s house ASAP. Thanks, Sam.” She ended the call.

  “What’s up?” Alex asked, his nerves on edge.

  “We have a contact in the DEA, and word is some cops are going to drop by Miri’s house and do a little search to see if they can scare up some drugs.”

  “Jesus. Not again.”

  “Don’t worry. If there is any stuff, we’ll get rid of it.”

  “How?”

  “Watch and learn, Parkin. Watch and learn.”

  *~*~*

  When he entered his sister’s house, he half-expected cops to come bursting out of the walls. Instead, it looked exactly as he’d left it the night before. Morgan walked to the back door, unlocked it, and stepped outside. Words were traded with someone, and then she returned with a fawn and black Malanois, a Belgian Shepherd. Apparently whoever had delivered the dog had departed.

  “Odin, meet Alex Parkin. Don’t eat him. He can’t help that he’s a mouthy jerk sometimes.”

  Alex gave her a frown. “So what’s with the canine?”

  Morgan chuckled, then ruffled the dog’s fur. “Odin has something in common with you: He’s ex-DEA. He was at the top of his game until a dealer shot him and sidelined him from active duty. He’s retired now, along with his handler. They work for us every now and then. Odin’s job today is to keep your ass out of jail.”

  The penny dropped. “He’s a drug-sniffing dog.”

  “Yup.” She dialed her phone. “Hey, you feeling better? Good. The flu can be a bitch. Yeah, Odin’s in place.” She held the phone out toward the dog and a voice gave an order in what sounded like Dutch.

  The dog began nosing his way through the living room, then to the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time Alex had seen a drug dog working a scene, but this time it was his home, or Miri’s at least, and the stakes were massive.

  “He damned well better not find anything,” he said, both aggravated and more afraid than he’d been in a long time. “Miri isn’t a druggie. No way.”

  “I know. I read your bio. Your mom was an addict, so neither of you guys are into that kind of stuff.”

  “Bio?”

  “We do a full background check on anyone we work with,” she replied, following the hound as he made his way into Miri’s bedroom. A moment later Odin whined, then sat down.

  “That’s his alert,” Morgan said. The shepherd seemed particularly interested in the stack of file boxes.

  “There can’t be anything in those,” Alex said. “I just went through them yesterday. It’s all old clothes and crap.”

  Morgan ignored him, pulling down one box at a time, revealing the door behind them. She gave that a frown, then kept working through the boxes until she’d reached the one that Odin had found of interest. She flipped open the lid and fished through the pile of clothes.

  Alex moved closer, wondering if this was all just street theater to make him feel more grateful to Veritas.

  “Hello,” Morgan muttered, pulling out a quart baggie full of white powder. Cocaine. “This has gotta be delivery weight. You’re looking at thirty years for this. And what do we have here?” She used a piece of his old clothing to retrieve a Glock. She sniffed the barrel. “Been fired recently. Any chance this is your sister’s?”

  “No. She has a Taurus.” He stared at the firearm and the coke, growing lightheaded. “I can’t go back. I won’t go back.” I’ll die this time.

  Morgan dug further into the box but didn’t find anything else of interest. When she looked over, Alex slid down the wall until his butt hit the floor, his head in his hands. It was as if he’d lost the will to remain upright. Odin sat nearby, watching him closely.

  “Parkin, you okay?” No reply. “Hey! Talk to me,” she said, growing concerned.

  Alex let his hands fall away, his face ashen. “It isn’t just me they’re after. This might send my sister to prison too.”

  “Yes, it might. Frankly, I’m not surprised. You put some heavyweight dealers away, and that means you have a lot of enemies.” She weighed the bag in her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

  Morgan headed to the bathroom, Odin trotting along behind her. She flushed down the coke and then the plastic bag, hoping it didn’t clog the toilet. She spoke to the handler on the phone for a moment, and he sent Odin off again with another Dutch command. As the dog worked, Morgan dug around under the bathroom sink, located the toilet-bowl cleaner, and pulled it out.

  A couple minutes later, Alex watched her from the doorway. His color was better, and she knew it was only a matter of time before his temper took over.

  “Has the hound’s nose found anything else?” she asked.

  “No, I think that’s it. As if that isn’t enough.” He shook himself. “If you didn’t have contacts in the DEA—”

  “That’s my job—outthinking bad guys. Sometimes I’m really good at it. Other times . . . ”

  “Like at the bar last night?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I was looking for Russians, not stalkers. That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “You were there. I sure as hell wasn’t.”

  It appeared they were both wearing hair shirts. She knew she’d never forget Miri’s face covered in blood.

  Morgan swished the bright-blue cleaner around the bowl, flushed, repeated the process, took a few tissues and wiped down the outside of the tank, then flushed those. After cleaning her hands, she scrubbed down the sink.

  When she returned to the bedroom, she stared at the gun lying on the bed. “Did you touch it?”

  “No way. But with my luck, whoever put it there would have found a way to get my prints on it. Or my sister’s,” Alex said.

  “You got a trash bag?”

  He left and returned with one, Odin in tow. “More bad news: Miri’s gun is missing from the kitchen drawer.”

  “Of course it is.”

  Morgan put the trash bag over her hand, then picked up the gun, reversing the bag over it to try to preserve any fingerprints. “I’ll be right back. If the cops show up, don’t let them in unless they have a warrant. Oh, and could you get Odin some water?”

  “Sure,” he replied, but she could tell he was only half paying attention. No doubt his head was already back in prison, hearing the cell doors close behind him.

  Not this time.

  Morgan slipped out the back door into the late morning heat. A quick walk through the neighbor’s yard got her to the next street—and Sam, waiting in a car at the curb.

  He looked up as she approached, seeing the bag in her hand. “You found something.”

  “Yeah, we did. Have Crispin thank our contact in the DEA. I took care of the coke, but I need you to take the garbage out for me,” she said, handing over the plastic bag. “Run the serial number and see if you can get prints off of it. I want to know this gun’s history before it was dropped into Parkin’s life. Oh, and his sister’s weapon is missing. She’ll need to file a police report for that.”

  “I’ll let Neil know.” Sam placed the plastic bag on the
passenger seat. “Who do you think planted the dope?”

  “Parkin had an impressive string of busts against some seriously nasty people. Any one of them could have left these little ‘welcome home’ presents.”

  “They’d have to know he was out of the house. You think the assault on the sister was planned ahead of time?”

  “That’s a possibility. I’ll take Alex to the safe house. Lars can pick Odin up there and get him back to his handler. He deserves a juicy steak.”

  “You regret taking lead on this mission now?” Sam asked.

  “Not yet, but it’s getting close,” she said, then headed back toward the house.

  The sound of slamming car doors had Alex up and at the window. His gut twisted when he saw four uniformed cops headed toward the front of the house, one with a battering ram. In front of them was the man he hated most in the world: his ex-partner, Dennis Simms. Simms had packed on the pounds over the last six years and was going bald. It was petty, but Alex was pleased to see that time hadn’t been good to him. He could never understand what his wife had seen in the guy. No wonder she dumped your sorry ass.

  Morgan entered through the back door. He shot a look at her. “They’re here.”

  “Keep your cool. If you throw a punch, you’re back in jail and the mission goes south.”

  Alex hesitated, his hand on the doorknob now. It felt molten in his fingers, he was clenching it so hard. “He was screwing my wife. He executed the search warrant on my house. How do I know he didn’t plant the dope then . . . and now?”

  “You don’t. But you have to trust me.”

  He glared at her, his jaw muscles tightening. “Last time I trusted someone, I got fucked over.”

  “This time you won’t. Are you on board here?”

  Alex took several deep breaths. “I have no other choice, do I?”

  “No. I’m an attorney licensed to practice in the state of Louisiana. So as of now I’m your legal representative, so just look innocent and keep that anger to yourself. If you act like some juvenile dickhead, we’re all screwed.”

  As she moved to open the door, Alex caught her arm. “You can be a pain in the ass, you know that?”