by Kylie Brant
He couldn’t find it in him to care, and that did have caution rearing. Women were infinitely pleasurable, but no woman distracted him. Not ever. But there was something different about Meghan, something that he didn’t want to examine too closely. It was enough for now that their relationship had changed, expanded. That she trusted him.
And she did trust him, on some level. He knew her well enough to be certain that she didn’t let people into her life easily. He’d wedged his way in, and now he was going to make a place for himself there. He realized he’d have to convince her of the wisdom of that. And he found himself looking forward to doing just that.
“Jesus.” Gabe’s attention shifted back to his partner.
“Meghan saw this?”
“Yeah.” Telling Cal about the search he and Meghan had undertaken took only a few minutes. He was carefully select with the rest of the evening’s details. He didn’t want to expose what he’d shared with Meghan last night with anyone, even his partner.
“After you left last night I did a little more digging, myself,” Cal said. “Ran a search on our pinup boy and then looked into his known associates. Ran them through the database, and damned if another one didn’t show up flagged. A Chafe Robinson.”
Gabe stared at him, his mind racing. “Latest arrest records?”
“Nothing for the last couple years on either of them. But I contacted Wadrell, asked about the flag. Seems like both these guys were involved in the drug case he was using Barton on. Wadrell was real cagey. Didn’t want to give me much. He was more interested in what our angle was.” Gabe looked at him sharply, and Cal shrugged. “I was purposefully vague. Just mentioned we were following a lead and left it at that.”
Talk of the other detective was enough to set Gabe’s temper simmering again, but he pushed the feeling aside for the moment. Taking care of Wadrell himself, however satisfying, would have short-lived consequences. Before this whole thing was through, the other detective was going to have a whole lot of heat directed at him. Turning the tape over to Lieutenant Burney would light the match. Gabe was looking forward to watching the other man go down in flames.
He shifted his attention back to the matter at hand. “Wadrell told me he’d rounded up most of the members of the drug ring.” He spoke slowly, fitting pieces together as he went. “Only the ringleaders were still at large, he said.”
“I didn’t tell you the most interesting part. I pulled out those surveillance shots we had of the people coming and going from the video place, and I matched Collins to three of them and Robinson to a full half dozen.”
“So these mopes are trafficking drugs. Lenny somehow gets placed managing a bunch of video stores where he handles money all day. We trace him to a half-dozen different banks and find him using that many aliases.”
Gabe rose, paced a bit. He always thought better on the move. “The video stores were sinks, all right. Drug money was brought in daily to be mixed with the store’s deposits, ending up freshly laundered. The cash that goes through those places daily, Lenny could easily have been smurfing several hundred dollars a day at each branch. Let’s be conservative and figure a couple grand, all told.”
“They’re open every day of the year,” Cal observed.
“Even holidays. So where are we at now?” He cocked his head, mentally calculated. “I figure they could launder well over a million a year that way.”
“Might not have taken care of all of that drug money but it would have been a healthy start. So what did they do with the rest of it?” They looked at each other and spoke simultaneously. “Ran it through other holdings.”
“Son of a gun,” Gabe said. “Robinson and Collins must have been the ones Barton talked about, the drug lords Wadrell couldn’t catch up with. They tried to get her to start giving phony information to Wadrell, and then used her to tip off their boss that D’Brusco was skimming.”
“That would mean either Robinson or Collins was probably behind Meghan’s attack. Must have realized they left some loose strings with those threatening pictures. And there was another development last night after you left. Apparently there’s been a major shakeup in the organization lately. Robinson’s body was discovered yesterday. It was found under a railroad bridge, minus a hand.”
“First D’Brusco ends up dead and now Robinson,” Gabe mused. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Cal was already on his feet. “Let’s get to this Collins before he ends up in a body bag, too.”
They kicked over a lot of rocks that day before finding Fast Eddie. They finally spotted him coming out of one of the five-dollar peep shows wedged like garish old hags on a seedy side street a few blocks from his home. They crossed the street, dodging traffic, and fell into step with the man, flanking him.
Eddie looked up, dismay quickly replacing recognition on his face. “Hey, don’t be hassling me, now. I’m done with the two of you, right? I gave you what I had, and I’m done with you.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But as it happens we have a few more questions for you, Eddie.”
The man was already shaking his head. “I don’t got no more answers. Our deal’s done. And you ain’t doing me no good, coming up to me like this on the street. People might get the wrong idea, you know?”
“Well we wouldn’t want to ruin your good name,” Gabe said. He looked at his partner. “Do we want to ruin his sterling reputation, Cal?”
His partner didn’t miss a beat. “Wouldn’t think of it. And that’s why we’re going to get out of the public eye.” The detectives veered as one, steering the man into a nearby tavern. With a few well-orchestrated moves, they had him seated in a booth in the back, with Gabe penning him in and Cal surveying him across the table.
“What can you tell us about a scumbag goes by the name of Shadrach Collins?” Gabe let Cal begin with the exchange they’d perfected while searching for the weasel. He waved away the waitress who had shambled in their direction and then he lounged with an ease that gave lie to the adrenaline pumping inside him.
“I can’t tell you nuthin’, man, ’cuz I ain’t never heard of him. Don’t know him, can’t help you. So I’ll be headin’ home.” Eddie half rose, and Gabe grabbed his jacket, jerked him back to the seat.
“Maybe this will jog your memory.” He pulled out the photo of the man they’d enlarged from one of the pictures Meghan had given them. He watched Eddie, saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, and closed in. “Ever seen him?”
“Nope.”
“Well, see that’s kind of funny. ’Cuz we caught him on film a few times heading into the video store. You claimed you hung out there for a while with Lenny, and you say you’ve never seen this guy. I’m not sure I buy that.” His gaze shifted to meet his partner’s. “Do you buy it, Cal?”
Eddie fidgeted in his seat. “Listen, I don’t owe you nuthin’. They dropped that charge when I gave you that information. And it was real good info, too.” His gaze flicked from one man to another. “My guy said that info was gold, man. You moved on it, din’t ya?”
Ignoring the question, Gabe leaned forward. “You got the last pandering charge dropped for the trade, but you’re back at it again, now, Eddie, and somehow I don’t think the scales of justice are on your side this time. Caught you on the police blotter this morning, you bonehead. Came to bail out one of your girls last night, didn’t you?”
Eddie’s head was shaking so furiously it was in danger of flying off. “Just helpin’ out a friend, man, there ain’t no harm in that. You can’t prove nuthin’ by it.”
“You’re probably right.” Gabe sat back, waited for the relief to cross the man’s face. “You’re not worth our time. We’d hand you over to vice, right Cal?”
His partner shrugged, looking bored with the whole thing. “I’m not gonna spend time looking into that sleazy stable you call a living, but vice probably will. Yeah, if we express an interest, they’ll be crawling over you every time you step on the street.”
“Hey
, cut me some slack, huh?” Eddie swiped his nose with his coat sleeve. His gaze darted around the bar furtively. “You two are bad luck, you know? I give you info on Lenny, and a few days later he’s a floater.”
“We appreciate your concern for Collins,” Cal said dryly.
“I don’t care about that homie, I’m talking about me. It ain’t healthy being around you.”
“So the sooner you tell us what we want to hear, the sooner you can regain your health.” Gabe’s voice was mild, his gaze wasn’t.
“Oh, man.” Eddie slumped in the booth. “I need a drink.”
Gabe held up a finger, and the waitress ambled in their direction. He let Eddie order a beer, and when the waitress left he said, “Why don’t you tell us what you know about Collins, Eddie. Is he connected?”
“Don’t know about that, but he’s got someone behind him. Someone big.” Reaching out with shaking hands to take the glass the waitress set in front of him, Eddie downed half of it. “He and some Robinson dude were pulling in a pretty big territory until things got hot a few months ago. I hear they’re rebuilding, but they have to stay low. Got warrants out on both of them.”
Gabe and Cal exchanged a glance. Apparently the man hadn’t heard that Robinson was no longer in the picture.
“Go on.”
“I don’t know nuthin’ about their business, just what it is, you know? And I know they got muscle behind them because folks just don’t mess with either of them. It just ain’t smart.”
Gabe’s mood went grim. If the dealers were tough enough to warrant that kind of respect on the street, they would have been bad news indeed when they’d found Sandra. And one of them had had his hands on Meghan, as well. His fingers curled into fists. For that fact alone, he wanted to find the one still alive and spend five minutes alone with him.
“Where do we find Collins?” he said in a hard voice.
“I don’t know for sure.” Recognizing the danger in Gabe’s eyes, he hastened to add, “But I got a few places you could look. He’s been moving around, you know? Staying one step ahead of the cops.”
“Give us locations, Eddie. And then maybe you can stay one step ahead, too.”
They found Collins at the last place Eddie had named, a hole-in-the-wall high-rise on Tenth and Maple. Trouble was, someone else had found him first.
The aroma of dried blood and death permeated the air. “He really pissed someone off,” Cal observed. He and Gabe perused the body, careful not to contaminate the scene. Collins’s throat had been cut, nearly severing his head.
“This ties the whole mess up in a neat little bundle, doesn’t it?” Gabe’s voice was rife with frustration. “Wadrell enlists Barton…Robinson and Collins force her to approach D’Brusco…and Barton ends up dead. A few months later Lenny is dead, and now the bodies are starting to pile up. All the players in that little scene are eliminated. What does that leave us with?”
“A whole lot of nothing?” Cal suggested.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Gabe was surprised at the reluctance he felt about the idea swirling in his mind. “We’ve still got an eyewitness to the guy seen with D’Brusco.”
Cal looked at him a little strangely, and Gabe turned away to call the scene in. He didn’t want to take the chance that his partner would recognize something on his face. Something that felt very much like dread.
“So how’s this for service?” Gabe strolled into the door Meghan opened for him carrying a large pizza. She looked good. His palms itched with the need to touch her. Her hair, which only hours ago had been a riot of curls spread across his chest, was piled on top of her head in a knot that looked as if it would give with the least bit of help. He was tempted to provide it. Her slim legs were showcased in formfitting jeans, and her pink shirt was short enough to show flashes of her flat stomach. All in all she looked tastier than the meal he carried.
“I usually tip the other delivery guy,” she noted.
He moved swiftly then and caught her mouth with his own. The taste was all too brief. “I’ll settle for this.”
Laughter lurked in her wide, blue eyes. “That’s what the other delivery guy always says, too.” She moved away before he could reach for her again, and headed toward the kitchen. He followed, hormones already kicking to life. Then another door in the apartment burst open and Danny sped into the living room, with another boy in fast pursuit.
“I smelled it first.”
“No, I did!”
Gabe cocked a brow at Meghan. “I hope they’re talking about the pizza.” He set the carton on the counter. When she moved by him to search for the plates, he remained motionless, so her body had to brush his.
“Deviant,” she murmured.
He grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, with you, I’ll take what I can get.” He waited while she served the boys, who seemed to have more interest in adding to noise pollution than in eating. His smile faded as he considered his purpose for coming here, other than the far more personal one. It was that distinction, the professional warring with the personal that had uneasiness churning in his stomach.
“I need to talk to you.” His voice low, he met Meghan’s quick glance. If he hadn’t been looking so intently he might have missed that flash of wariness that appeared on her face, only to vanish the next moment.
“You guys try to keep most of the pizza in your mouths, okay?” After pouring each of them some juice, she left the kitchen. Gabe trailed behind her. She led him a distance away and turned to face him. He wanted nothing more than to reach for her, possess her mouth once more. Because he couldn’t trust himself not to do just that, he shoved his hands in his pockets. He wouldn’t take that kind of advantage. He wouldn’t kiss her until her body melted against his and her eyes got drowsy and languorous. Not when he suspected what her reaction would be to what he had to say.
As if aware of his warring emotions, she retreated a step. “What is it?”
“We identified the men who threatened Sandra,” he told her bluntly. “Both of them are dead. One a couple days ago and the other today. And with those two homicides we’ve lost every lead we’ve got in this case.” He watched her carefully. “Except for one.”
It didn’t take long for comprehension to streak across her face. He expected the sliver of panic that showed, but he hadn’t expected the resignation that followed. She turned her back to him, went to the windows that were showcasing a spectacular sunset. “You have the tape.”
He heard the hope in her voice and damned himself for shattering it. “With these guys dead the tape is no good to us. Other than to be used to make things very uncomfortable for Wadrell.” The fierce satisfaction the thought gave him crept into his voice. “But with them gone, it’s more important than ever that we get an ID on the guy Danny saw with D’Brusco.”
She looked too solitary standing there, and he was damned if he’d let her feel alone. Striding to her, he cupped her shoulders with his hands, drew her back against his chest. It was a measure of her distress that she sagged against him for just a moment. The tiny sign of weakness, one that was just as quickly masked, elicited a protective, answering emotion. Personal feelings waged war with professional obligations. It was a hell of an uncomfortable battle. But he’d spoken no more than the truth. They needed this lead more than ever before. “It’ll be painless, I promise. I’ll line a sketch artist to work with Danny. That will save him from having to look at pictures for hours.”
Silence stretched between them. He wondered what she was thinking, was afraid he already knew. So he was surprised at the steadiness of her voice when she spoke, and even more surprised by her words. “How about if we compromise?”
“I don’t see how we can…”
“How about if I be the sketch artist?” She spun in his grasp and met his gaze. “Portraits aren’t my strength, but I just finished the one for Danny’s birthday of his mother. And it doesn’t have to be a work of art, does it? Just a reasonable depiction for you to go on?”
He hesitated, unwill
ing to destroy even that one small concession and reach for the total capitulation he needed. “Sketch artists are specially trained, Meghan. I don’t know if you can expect to get the same results.”
“At least let me try.” There was a fierceness in her voice that caught him. “If it doesn’t work—” her hesitation was infinitesimal “—then we can discuss it again.”
He looked into her face and knew he was lost. He couldn’t deny her this, not when it would cost them so little. Not even when he was certain they were only delaying the inevitable.
With an effort he looked away from her, and damned himself for losing his famed objectivity. “It has to be tonight. We can’t afford to waste any more time.”
“Then tonight it is.”
“What kind of game is this, Aunt Meggie?” Danny wanted to know. He and Alex were seated on stools in the studio, and the specialness of the occasion wasn’t lost on him. He was supposed to stay out of the studio because things here spilled easily. Or broke. Or tore.
“It’s called…Funny Faces,” she improvised, avoiding Gabe’s gaze. He had refused the seat she’d offered and was roaming her studio in a fashion that made her decidedly nervous. “I’ve got an easel with paper for each of you.”
“Are we going to paint?” asked Alex.
“No, you’re going to describe a funny face for me to draw. Danny can start with one and I’ll make a picture of it. Then Alex can describe one. When I finish with them, you can change anything you want on them. If you want the noses to be different, you just tell me. If you want a scary scar—” she raised her eyebrows at the boys’ delighted expressions “—I can add one. Let’s see who ends up with the funniest face.”