by Karen Rose
She swallowed hard. ‘Please,’ she whispered.
He bent down, taking her mouth with his, feeling her melt into him. Her hand gripped his cheek and held on. Her lips parted when his tongue stroked. And it was good. So good. He kept it as gentle as he was able, pulling back to stare down at her face. Her eyes were still closed, lashes fanned out on her perfect skin.
Her lips curved in a satisfied smile. ‘And?’
‘I’m already wondering when you’ll let me do that again.’
She opened her eyes and he swallowed, his mouth gone dry once more. Because there was want there. Lust and want and everything he’d always hoped to see. She’d dreamed about him. He wished to heaven and hell that they had more time, because he desperately wanted to know what those dreams entailed.
A carefully cleared throat had them jerking apart, turning to the doorway as one. Lucy stood there, arms crossed over her chest, an uncomfortable expression on her face. ‘I gave you as much time as I could,’ she said apologetically. ‘But they’ve closed down the club and arrested Mowry, Ming and Laura.’
‘Mowry said he’d been paying the Freaks out of petty cash,’ Gwyn explained. ‘Ming was the one who threw the two men out last night.’ She looked at Lucy. ‘Why did they arrest Laura?’ Their bartender was one of the most upstanding citizens they employed. Single mother, putting herself through business school.
Lucy bit at her lip. ‘They said she was dealing from behind the bar. They found drugs back there. Coke and some fentanyl. All packaged up to sell.’
Thorne came to his feet, stunned. ‘What the fuck?’
Lucy sighed. ‘I know. Jamie and Frederick are on their way to the police station. JD is taking me to the club so we can close it up properly. We’ll have to figure out what to do once we get all the information.’
Thorne gritted his teeth. ‘You can’t go, Luce. He’s already shot at Gwyn and Stevie today. I don’t want you anywhere near the club.’
‘That’s what I told her,’ JD said, coming in to stand next to his wife, scowling.
‘Sheidalin is our business,’ Lucy protested. ‘We can’t just hide from it forever.’
‘You can’t go in there anyway,’ JD said. ‘They’ve declared it a crime scene, because of the drugs.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Gwyn said angrily. ‘We employ at least thirty people. We can’t just let them close us down.’
‘This is Tavilla’s doing,’ Thorne said, then extended his hand to Gwyn, tugging her to her feet. She immediately slipped into her shoes, making herself four inches taller and bringing the top of her head level with his shoulder. He found himself hunching a little and realized he’d done so thousands of times over the years. But unlike those thousands of times, she sidled closer, sliding her hand to the middle of his back.
‘Did you text your contact about meeting you?’ Lucy asked, eyeing them with what looked like relief. JD wore the same expression. Somehow it made the situation a little easier to bear.
‘Yes,’ Thorne replied. ‘But after this latest clusterfuck, I don’t know that the cops are going to want to cooperate in a sting.’
‘What did your contact say?’ Gwyn pressed.
‘He said he’d meet me at eleven p.m.’
Gwyn huffed. ‘That’s original.’
Thorne shrugged. ‘It’s our normal meeting time. I could slip out of the club and back without being noticed.’
‘Don’t think I didn’t see you guys changing the subject,’ JD said, irritated. ‘Lucy and Gwyn need to stay away from the club.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Please, Lucy,’ he added in a whisper. ‘You can’t take chances. You just can’t.’
‘He’s right, Luce,’ Gwyn said. ‘You’re a mommy now.’
‘Hey,’ Lucy snapped. ‘If I’m not going, you’re not going either.’
Gwyn crossed her arms and made an unimpressed face. ‘I know.’
She looked like a five-year-old who was being sent to bed early. Thorne might have smiled had the situation not been so serious. ‘I’ll go,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t want to kill me. Just . . . ruin me, apparently. I need to borrow a car.’
‘I’ll take you,’ JD said. ‘You two’ – he gestured to Gwyn and Lucy – ‘stay here. We’ll come back for you.’
‘Did Phil go with Jamie and Frederick?’ Thorne asked. ‘Or is he still here?’
‘Neither,’ JD said. ‘Sam took Phil home.’
Lucy held up her hand when Thorne started to protest. ‘Relax, Thorne. He had some medication to take or something. Sam’s going to stay there with him until you get home. And you’ll still have your tail. Agent Ingram is covering Phil because JD’s got you. I trust Ingram to keep Phil safe.’
‘Meet me at the front door,’ JD said. ‘I need to get my gun from Clay’s safe.’
Lucy waited until her husband was gone before lifting one corner of her mouth in a tiny smile. ‘You have a minute to finish what you were doing when I interrupted you.’
Gwyn wasted no time, grabbing Thorne’s shirt collar and hauling herself higher on her toes. ‘You take no chances,’ she growled. ‘Got it?’
‘Got it,’ he murmured, then bent down and kissed her just as he’d always wanted to. She responded just as he’d always dreamed she would. Hard and hot and so damn perfect.
Too quickly she ripped her mouth away, panting. ‘Come back to me, Thomas Thorne,’ she whispered. ‘Promise me.’
He understood, both what she was asking and what he might be giving up to make the vow. He’d have to take backup with him to Ramirez’s house. He’d have to take JD to Ramirez’s house. And if by some miracle the man wasn’t dead, Thorne would be breaking his promise to him, because JD would be compelled to arrest him. Ramirez was too high up in Tavilla’s organization to have committed no crimes.
Still, he couldn’t make himself refuse the desperation in her eyes. ‘I promise.’
Fifteen
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 10.45 P.M.
‘This is a nightmare,’ Thorne murmured.
JD gave a grunt of assent as he exited off the parkway and slowed to stop at the light at the end of the ramp. ‘Right now? Yeah, I’d concur with that assessment.’
Going to Sheidalin had been a huge mistake. The cops had not only shut down the club, the media had been there to cover it. Now Thorne, Lucy and Gwyn were the focus of headlines and soundbites. Especially Thorne.
The cops hadn’t let him anywhere close to the club. Someone had applied liberal amounts of crime scene tape to the doors, which made the reporters very happy because the bright yellow ‘popped’ against the club’s dark exterior.
Thorne’s arrival had caused quite a stir, with the vipers descending upon him with microphones and vicious accusations they didn’t even bother to veil. He’d managed to hold his temper, but barely. Eventually JD got them out of there, taking them to the police station, but Thorne hadn’t gone inside because Jamie had warned him against it.
There was no warrant out for Thorne’s arrest, but showing up at the police station might push them to that extreme. Plus, Jamie and Frederick had everything under control. They’d gotten Ming, Mowry and Laura out on bond and were disgruntled to have to owe that favor to Lieutenant Hyatt, who’d greased the skids to make it happen faster.
Thorne and JD had transported Ming and Mowry back to their respective homes while Jamie and Frederick waited for Laura to be released.
And now Thorne and JD were on their way to Ramirez’s house.
Thorne sighed. ‘What are we going to do, JD?’
‘You’re going to keep doing what you’re doing,’ JD said resolutely. ‘You’re going to prove who’s behind all this shit and then you and Gwyn and Lucy will give an exclusive to whichever reporter has the biggest audience.’
The reporters had been there front and center, looking oh-so-disappointed to h
ave to report that the owners of Sheidalin were ‘allegedly’ involved in a territorial drug war. Allegedly, my ass, Thorne thought bitterly.
‘Once they say we’re guilty out loud, no amount of “allegedly” or after-the-fact retractions will change public opinion.’ He opened his phone, scrolling through the coverage. ‘They could at least get my ethnicity right, for sweet fuck’s sake. One reporter says I’m Samoan, so at least he got the right hemisphere. The rest of them have me as everything from Hispanic to Arab, and guilty of dealing everything from drugs to weapons out of Sheidalin since we opened our doors seven years ago.’
JD raised his brows. ‘Those are trash sites. Nobody believes that shit.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Thorne answered glumly, wanting to tell JD that he didn’t understand. Thorne had heard the slurs for years, some behind his back, others to his face. And people did believe ‘that shit’, or it wouldn’t continue to be written.
‘Then talk to them. Give them what they want. Give them an interview and set the record straight.’
Thorne shook his head. ‘It could backfire. You know how they say that journalists should tell the story without becoming part of the story? I’ll talk to the press on behalf of a client, but I don’t want to be the client.’
‘You are the client, Thorne,’ JD said gently.
Thorne blew out a breath. ‘I know. And if it comes to it, I will talk to them, but the very thought makes me want to throw up.’ He rubbed his temples. ‘I’m more concerned about the impact this is going to have on the club. If Sheidalin goes belly-up, thirty people will be out of work and on the street. I have savings, but not enough to pay their salaries for all that long.’
JD shot him a surprised glance. ‘You’re not really thinking of doing that, are you? Paying them out of your own pocket?’
‘Of course I am. Most of our employees live paycheck to paycheck. They can’t afford not to get paid.’
JD just blinked at him. ‘You have that much money?’
Thorne shrugged uneasily. ‘Jamie and Phil gave me some cash when I graduated from college. Told me to go backpacking in Europe. I invested it instead. I’m comfortable.’
‘Wow. Well, I doubt Lucy and Gwyn are going to allow you to use your own money.’
‘Then our employees will quit, because they’ll have no other choice. And when we finally do start up again, we’ll be doing so with a green crew.’
‘I think you can worry about that later,’ JD said quietly. ‘But for the record, it’s really decent that you’d be willing.’
Thorne’s chuckle was one hundred percent mirthless. ‘You don’t have to sound so surprised.’
‘Shut up, Thorne,’ JD replied, but the words held no real heat. ‘You assume everyone’s thinking the worst of you.’
‘Because they usually are.’
‘Well, that might be true,’ JD allowed. The light changed and he turned left. ‘Where do I go from here?’
‘I’ll direct you. Is it too much to ask that you stay in the car and let me talk to Ramirez alone?’
‘Yes. Mostly because I need to be able to alibi you.’
‘Hope they’ll still believe you,’ Thorne muttered.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Just that hanging with me could be hazardous to your reputation. I’m now a “suspected drug dealer”. Oh, and murderer. Let’s not forget that.’
‘Joseph doesn’t believe it. Neither does Hyatt.’
Thorne found the energy to roll his eyes. ‘It won’t matter soon. I’ll be tried and convicted in the court of opinion. And I’ll be damned if I drag you all down with me.’
‘Jesus, Thorne, you’re making me depressed. Stop it. We’re going to figure this out. You forget Lucy is an equal owner in your little den of iniquity. If you think I’m letting her go down on a sinking ship, you’re insane. I’ll patch the fucking ship myself if I have to. I’ll toss you one of those circle things.’
‘You mean a life preserver? Turn right at the next light.’
JD made the turn. ‘Try not to have all three of you doing hard time on a chain gang just yet, okay?’
‘I’ll try.’
He said no more, giving terse directions until JD had pulled up in front of Ramirez’s place. It was a nice house on about five acres of land, so the nearest home was around the bend. The house was dark, but the lawn appeared to have been freshly mowed. Thorne started to get out of the car, but JD stopped him, handing him a pair of latex gloves.
‘I don’t have a good feeling about this,’ he said quietly.
‘Me either.’ They’d chosen to arrive at quarter till eleven, so that if Ramirez really was going to meet Thorne, he wouldn’t be home right now. But the house didn’t just seem empty. It had a still, abandoned feel to it that was foreboding.
The two of them went up the front walk, JD looking around with a fierce intensity. ‘No cameras,’ he said, then unsnapped his holster and drew his weapon, holding it along his thigh, keeping it pointed at the ground.
The gun Thorne carried was heavy in his pocket holster. He followed JD’s lead and drew it. It was Clay’s, but Thorne owned a similar model. He didn’t like guns, but was practical enough to have become proficient with their operation.
JD opened the mailbox and pulled out several fliers. ‘Announcement for a party at the rec center,’ he murmured. ‘From a week ago.’
They approached the front door and JD sighed. ‘Fuck.’
‘What?’
JD looked at him. ‘You can’t smell that?’
Thorne drew a breath and grimaced. ‘Yeah. Now I can.’
It was the odor of decomposing flesh. Somebody in that house was dead.
‘I gotta call this in,’ JD told him.
‘I know. At least we didn’t go in. I have that much of an alibi.’
JD gave him a distracted nod. ‘Put your gun and the holster in my trunk. I don’t want anyone seeing you with it. It’ll make things harder for you in the long run.’
Thorne did as he was told, then sat in the passenger seat while JD called for backup.
Annapolis, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 11.15 P.M.
He’d been awake, waiting for Kathryn to get home, so he answered on the first ring. ‘Hello?’
‘Thorne’s not here,’ Patton said grimly. ‘But about a dozen cops are.’
He was not surprised. He’d figured Thorne would put him at the top of his suspect list, but he’d hoped to keep him guessing for a little longer.
He was surprised to hear the cops were there. Their cooperation with Thorne was something he hadn’t anticipated, but he should have. That they hadn’t arrested him right away was a major disappointment.
‘Are you visible?’
‘No. And I’ve altered my face, which was a good idea because the cops have cameras rolling. They’re looking for whoever might have met Thorne tonight.’
‘I’d have done the same,’ he murmured. ‘But things should start to change for Mr Thorne after tonight. The police will be less willing to cooperate with him’ – or protect him for that matter – ‘now that they know he’s been dealing from his nightclub.’
‘Maybe,’ Patton said. ‘Maybe not.’
He frowned. ‘And that is supposed to mean exactly what?’
‘You’ve got a police radio, sir. Turn it on.’
He disconnected the call without another word and flipped on the scanner. And frowned. Then cursed.
Units had been dispatched to Ramirez’s house.
Thorne. But how had he known where Ramirez lived? Surely the man hadn’t been foolish enough to share his address. He’d found no record of it in his files, at least. Maybe Ramirez hadn’t known that Thorne knew. The fool.
Thorne had suspected him before. Now he knew for sure.
Nothing had really c
hanged, of course. He’d laid out the plan with care and would see it through. But he’d have to rattle Thorne a little more. Put more pressure on his inner circle, rendering them afraid to stand too close to him. Or at a minimum, render them useless by forcing them into hiding.
He picked up the phone and redialed Patton. ‘I think you might be right. The discovery of Ramirez changes things.’
‘I made it look like a robbery, just like you said, but they won’t buy it now.’
‘You’re probably right about that too. I have one more assignment for you tonight.’
Dead silence. ‘I dropped those two at the warehouse, just as you asked.’
‘I know you did.’ He wondered if Patton had managed to keep his supper down as he’d done so. ‘This can be accomplished more conventionally. I’ll send you an address. There may be an officer guarding outside. You may dispatch the officer as you see fit. Any occupants of the house itself can be hurt, but not killed.’
‘Got it.’
‘I’ll be waiting to hear your summary, Mr Patton.’
‘Of course. Later. Sir.’
He ended the call and slid his phone into the pocket of his dressing gown. Unsettled, and annoyed to be, he headed downstairs to make a pot of coffee. In his younger days, he’d been able to stay up all night with no issues, but he was beginning to feel his age.
Plus, he’d had an active day. Carving up those Circus Freaks boys had been labor-intensive. Satisfying, though.
He paused outside the nursery, listening, opening the door when he heard Benny’s fractious wail. The boy stood in his crib, tears streaking his beautiful face. Not hesitating for a second, he picked the child up and cuddled him close, settling into the rocking chair.
He’d convinced Margo to stay with him in case Benny needed care during the night. His physician was on call should the child’s fever worsen. He knew she’d complied primarily to assuage his fears, rather than because she was actually worried about Benny. She was convinced it was only teething and he was sure she was right, because his personal physician had confirmed it.
Margo had not been happy when she’d called earlier in the evening, after the physician had examined Benny and left. She’d accused him of thinking she was not a good mother, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He’d begged her indulgence and with a sigh she’d agreed.