That's Not My Baby

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That's Not My Baby Page 7

by Erosa Knowles


  “What about the two we gunned down?”

  “One SUV, five men. No sign of the truck. Maybe it wasn’t a part of this.”

  Max strode to the first body on the ground. “Look at his weapon. He didn’t come to chat, yet he didn’t fire until I did.”

  Skinny removed the pistol and placed it in one of his pockets. “Strange, maybe he wasn’t sure which car she was in… no, that doesn’t make sense if he intended to terminate.”

  “Good point,” Max said and pointed to the other downed man. “Take his weapon, make sure we don’t leave anything for someone to trip over. Cleaners are on the way.”

  Sweet dragged the third body and dropped him with the other two. “Clean, no calling card, phone, nothing.”

  “Take their prints, Brock will run’em through,” Max said looking at the third man.

  “Yes, Sir.” Sweet jogged to his car, pulled out a large case and returned.

  “How much longer?” Max yelled to Cody.

  “Almost done, Chief. Two minutes, tops.”

  “Good.” He watched Sweet take prints and a photo of each man. Skinny locked the pistols removed from the men into the trunk.

  “Do we take them with us?” Skinny asked pointing to the bodies he had stripped and left side by side.

  “No.” Max looked at his watch and then at the road. “Put them in the trunk of their car, I’ll call it in.” He pulled out his phone as a SUV pulled up behind them. Max tensed and motioned for his men to stand down when he recognized one of Brock’s men as he opened the door.

  “Sir?” Peters said as he stepped out with his hands in the air.

  Max met the man’s gaze and tipped his head toward the truck. Skinny ran over, opened the back and looked inside.

  “You made good time,” Max said watching Peters.

  “Yes, Sir. Brock caught me on my way back into town from another job. I turned around and headed this way.” He pointed to the men on the ground. “This all of them?”

  Max nodded and caught Skinny’s nod as he walked back toward them.

  “Permission to remove them?” Peters looked at Max.

  “One second.” Max completed his call to Brock, and after confirming Peters’ story he released the bodies.

  “Ladies, let’s ride.” Max returned to his car. Adele lay asleep on the seat but woke when he slid beside her.

  “What… what happened?” she asked sitting up and looking out the window.

  “Nothing. I’m going to take you to get some rest.”

  “Rest? Mmm, yes, that sounds like a good idea.” She lay back against the seat and slid down onto his lap again.

  Chapter 13.

  Crystal wiped down the bar and looked around at the men she would have sworn would never violate Jose’s wife. Rape? Probably. These guys weren’t saints, far from it. But knowing Adele was under Max and Brock’s protection they had to know their lives were forfeit. Chief took this shit seriously and whoever violated Adele would never know a moment’s peace.

  “Another,” Sergei called distracting her.

  She nodded, pulled the expensive bourbon from beneath the counter and poured him a shot. “You just get back?” The man worked on contracts all over the world for companies like Brock’s. He’d been gone longer this time.

  “Yeah.” He took the drink, tossed it back, slammed the glass on the counter and looked at her.

  Brow raised she poured another. “Tough job?” It wasn’t like Sergei to abuse his liquor like this, something must’ve happened.

  He shrugged and stared straight ahead. The man wore an air of mystery around him that intrigued her. Only a fool would think Sergei was harmless, the man wore scars like badges and watched everything, no doubt heard everything as well.

  “Can I have a beer?” another patron called from the opposite end of the bar. Crystal capped the bottle and went to fill the order.

  “Any news yet?”

  She looked at the guy and tried to place him. “News?” She placed the drink in front of him and took the money.

  “The rapist. My friends and I been working on a theory.”

  Crystal handed him his change, he waved it away and she tossed it in the tip jar beneath the bar. Now she felt obligated to listen to his prattle. “What’d you guys come up with?” She crossed her arms and met his gaze. After he took a long pull, he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and smiled.

  “Someone who lives in her neighborhood. We were thinking of going door to door, and asking a few questions, what’d you think?”

  “How many drinks have you had today?” She uncrossed her arms, this situation could get out of control.

  “Three.”

  Her brow rose.

  His face reddened beneath her silent scrutiny. “Okay, double that. But it’s still a good idea.”

  “No, it’s not, Kenny,” she said remembering his name and sighing when he smiled the way drunks do when they think they’ve won a prize or something. “That idea will get you and your friends thrown in jail. I told you Chief and Brock’s got men on it. Soon as we find out something, we’ll tell you.” She hoped hearing Max’s involvement would settle folks down.

  He nodded, pulled up his pants and moved away, holding his drink. “Glad to hear it. Mess with one, mess with all.” He lifted his glass and a nearby table of equally sloshed men raised their glasses and repeated his toast.

  She noticed Sergei looked at the men over his shoulder and raised his empty glass. Grabbing the bottle of bourbon, she headed toward him.

  “What’s that all about?” he asked while she poured.

  Surprised by his interest, she told him one of the women from Reclamation had been raped. He frowned.

  “Raped?”

  She nodded, appreciating the way his eyes darkened and his straight nose flared as if something foul filled the air.

  He sipped on his drink and turned to look around the room. Crystal studied the man guessing his origins were Greek or someplace in the Mediterranean. He’d been coming to the club off and on since they opened and no one knew much about him, well, Max and Brock knew him but didn’t deal with him often. That alone said a lot about the man. The one thing she knew, Brock told her, he was damn good at getting the job done. Praise from Brock meant he was a badass not to be messed with.

  “When?”

  “When what?”

  His nostrils flared as if she said the wrong thing. “When did the rape happen?”

  “A few months ago.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why search now?”

  “We just found out.”

  His face cleared and he took another sip.

  Feeling she’d been dismissed, Crystal headed to the other end of the bar, refilling drinks. “Somebody should talk to those two outside. I bet they seen something,” Kenny said standing, at the bar again.

  Crystal held back a sigh and wished Chief or Brock would deal with these hot heads, but as manager that fell on her. “Chief’s on it, don’t get your ass kicked today, Kenny. I told you to leave them alone.”

  “Aww, Crystal. I won’t mess with them, just ask a few questions, that’s all I swear.”

  Leaning forward, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. When she thought his eyes focused as much as they could, she ground out. “Leave people alone, Kenny. You don’t ask nobody nothing, if you’ve seen something, then let us know and we’ll pass it on to Chief. But keep your ass out of this, because Chief will kick your ass all night and day if you mess this up and cause that son-of-a-bitch to run. So I’m warning you for the last time, leave the investigating to the Chief and sit your ass down. Got that?” She released his shirt and waved Mark, the bouncer and Charlene’s lover, back to the front entrance. Kenny wasn’t a threat, just drunk.

  He blinked a couple of times and then grinned. “Yes, Ma’am. I like when you get like that, all dominant and shit. You into that dominance-submission stuff?”

  Her face warmed as she faced him. “No. And the only drink you can have now i
s coffee.” She ignored his pout and went to refill drinks.

  “Crystal.”

  Hearing her name surprised her, even more surprised that Sergei knew it. She grabbed the bottle and headed toward him. Bottle lifted, poised to pour a shot, she met his gaze. “Another?”

  He shook his head and slid a fifty dollar bill across the table. She returned with his change, he shook his head, once again surprising her. Crystal placed the hefty tip into the jar and turned to leave.

  “One moment.” His voice dropped an octave and she loved how it flowed through her. Something about this man made her insides melt. Not because of his looks, he wasn’t pretty or particularly handsome, but he had something that attracted women. She’d seen firsthand how women approached him at the bar. Sometimes they left together, sometimes he ignored them, but he never approached a female first.

  Turning, she waited for him to speak. He motioned her closer.

  “Who was raped?”

  Crystal jerked back and met his obsidian gaze. At that moment she could imagine meeting him in combat, knowing he would kill her without mercy. It was all there in his gaze. Swallowing her discomfort, she looked at him.

  “Adele.”

  If she wasn’t watching closely she would have missed it, but he flinched. The corners of his mouth tightened and his posture stiffened further. And then everything she’d just seen vanished, blanked. Except his eyes. Dark coals burned in his eyes, giving life to his marble-like face. Adele’s rape impacted him on a visceral level, she was sure of it.

  “You know her?”

  He exhaled and nodded. “Jose’s widow, everyone knows her.”

  Crystal started to disagree but didn’t bother. He had been gone for a while and didn’t know the woman didn’t work there any longer. “She’s a good person, and didn’t deserve that.”

  “Why didn’t Max look for the bastard right away, why wait until now?”

  Leaning forward, she whispered near his ear. “Because he just found out. She didn’t tell anyone.”

  She sensed his surprise and wondered at it. How well did he know Adele? Did they have something going on? The idea of stiff, quiet, deadly Sergei and Adele, a self-proclaimed diva, as a couple boggled her mind. Even the idea of them as friends with benefits didn’t compute. But his interest seemed more than passive curiosity. She’d call Max after Sergei left and tell him.

  “I see.” He pushed back and stood.

  Crystal moved away to tend to other customers, but watched as he headed for the exit. When he cleared the door, she pulled put her cell and placed the call. It went to Max’s voice mail.

  “Chief, I think you need to check to see if Sergei and Adele had something going on.”

  Chapter 14.

  After getting the all clear that the building was clean of bugs, Max and Brock strode into the warehouse. Two men sat in metal chairs with their heads covered. A sense of déjà vu hit Max reminding him of the time he and Baretti met here.

  Brock placed his large case on the ground and set up his equipment. The plan they devised required timing and finesse to break these men and gain information. No one spoke as the laptop and other devices were connected through a series of snaps and clicks. When everything was ready, he motioned to begin.

  Jace grabbed a hand of the captive and forced his fingerprints on a device Brock set out. The man struggled, but tied and gagged, he had no choice. Jace repeated the motions with the other prisoner. Max and Brock waited to see if there were matches.

  “Not in this database. Let me check another one,” Brock said and typed in a series of keys. Brock’s military contract work required a high level clearance, one he used judiciously in their private investigations.

  “Take a look,” Brock said grabbing his attention.

  Max turned and looked at the monitor. “Hmm. Interesting,” he said reading their bios. He nodded at Jace, who pulled the bags from the heads of the two men while Brock searched for more information.

  “Why were you shooting at my men?” Max grabbed a chair and sat. Both stared at him, neither spoke.

  Max smiled.

  Jace chuckled.

  Brock shook his head.

  Skinny walked in, dressed in hunting gear. “Take Southern to the pit,” Brock said pointing to the man on Max’s right.

  Skinny nodded. Grabbed Southern’s hair and then tapped his neck with a souped-up stun device. His head fell against his chest and his body slumped forward. Skinny untied, lifted him over his shoulder and walked out. It happened so smoothly, Franks, the other man, reaction came as the door closed.

  Brock stood and Max took his place at the laptop. Again he wondered what Chip wanted with these men. According to the bio’s Max read, both men served their country with honor and dignity, received several awards and left honorably. Which didn’t explain why they were in a car shooting at him.

  Instead of beating the crap out the man, Brock sat on the desk and placed a call. “I have a job for you. Go to this address and take everyone in the house.” Brock turned the monitor so the house in question showed on the screen.

  “No,” Franks yelled trying to break free.

  Brock rattled off the address as he stood, and walked closer. “Take them to the place in Mexico.”

  Franks’ eyes widened as the blood drained from his face. Jaw clenched, he kicked out at Brock and missed.

  “Each minute you refuse to answer questions, I add twelve hours to their stay in that hell-hole. If I wait too long, your daughter will work the house.”

  “Bastard, I’ll kill you for this,” Franks yelled, his eyes glued to the screen. “Leave them alone. A man of honor wouldn’t…” A young woman walked up to the porch, unlocked the door and stepped inside. Franks gaze tracked her movement, sorrow leaked from his pores.

  “Jace keep track of the length of days Laverne, Peggy and Simon will be guests of the Ropa hostel in Laquienta,” Brock said.

  Max remained quiet and would’ve felt bad for the bastard if he hadn’t tried to kill them. When he and Brock devised this plan, they knew it would take something major to get these men to talk. Southern had nothing they could use, the man lacked family or anything remotely close in his life. But Franks had one child, Laverne. Single, divorced with two kids, Peggy and Simon were his grandchildren.

  “I was told to stop the car and remove the woman. I’d get instructions where to take her after retrieval.”

  “How much were you paid?” Brock asked.

  “Ten, each.”

  “Someone paid fifty thousand for you to remove the woman from my care? Is that what I should believe?” Max asked.

  Franks glanced at him and then looked at the floor.

  “Another twenty after delivery.”

  “Have you ever worked for this employer before?” Brock asked.

  “Contract work, easy rescue.”

  “Yet five started and five died. None of you will receive the rest of your money,” Brock said.

  Franks inhaled and unclenched his fist at the announcement of his death. “When a man’s time’s up, that’s the way it is.”

  “I suppose. Did you make arrangements for your family? Will the money go to them? Do you want to put their minds at ease?” Brock asked.

  Franks eyed Brock. “What do you mean?”

  “For starters, if there is a body, they can have a funeral; mourn your death and move forward. But if you just disappear, they won’t ever know what happened, and would be confused, eventually hate you for leaving… again.”

  The man jerked at Brock’s last word. Max had to give it to his second, he excelled in this arena. Franks no longer thought of his demise, which meant he wouldn’t be concerned with retaliation from whoever hired him. Instead, Brock had him focus on the living and how to make their lives better.

  “Please… if there is a choice, allow them to bury me. I don’t care what happens to me, it’s them. Let them have that.”

  “It depends on the answers you provide, and so you know… I don’
t know is unacceptable. A call will come through when my men reach your daughter’s home, if we don’t have the answers we need by then, we will take them. And once that happens, what I promised about the length of their stay in Mexico goes into effect, the only thing you will be able to do at that point is to determine how long they remain.”

  Franks licked his lips and nodded. “I been working for this contract company out of D.C., doing different jobs. The call came in this morning, seemed easy enough. No one mentioned you guys or that there’d be a protection detail. But a job’s a job.”

  “The name of the company?” Brock asked and nodded when he heard the name.

  “What were you supposed to do with the woman when you grabbed her?”

  Franks gaze slid from Brock to Max and then to the floor. “Take her to a location and wait. Someone else would pick her up from there.”

  “What happens when you don’t call to let them know you’re on the way?”

  “Don’t know. I guess they don’t show up.”

  “Give me the location,” Brock said moving to the laptop and typing it in.

  “I don’t know why you’re lying,” Max said. “Obviously your daughter doesn’t mean shit to you.”

  “What are you talking about, I told you everything.” He stared at Max but his gaze slid to the monitor and then returned.

  “No you lied. The owner of that contract company is missing and they aren’t doing any work. Someone called you directly and instructed you on this job. Now I want a name and I want it now,” Max yelled.

  Brock’s phone rang.

  Franks eyes widened. He swallowed hard as Brock lifted the phone.

  “Wait. Wait,” Franks yelled. “I get a text to call a number and that’s how I get assignments. Don’t happen often, but when it does I go to work.”

  “What do you mean it don’t happen often?” Brock asked.

  “Since I retired, they’ve used me three times in ten years. This isn’t the kind of work I normally do, but…” He shrugged. “I get the call, I do what I’m told.”

 

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