by G. K. Parks
Returning to the office, I looked down at the tray and flipped through the newest photos. They had been taken of Heathcliff while he had been inside the ambulance. Steele was watching us.
Shivers went down my spine. I put those photos down and turned my attention to the ones scattered on top of the desk, finding shot after shot of Joe Aronne. We had a problem. A big one.
Thirty-three
“What do you want to do?” Lucca asked.
“It’s either Heathcliff or Aronne. Steele has reason to want them both dead.” I looked at the photo of Heathcliff. “Steele was there. He was right fucking there. How did we not see him?”
“Are you sure he didn’t have someone else take the photos?” Lucca lifted the phone attached to the printer.
“No, Cross pinged his device. He was in the vicinity when he called me.”
“That’s who called after the raid?” Lucca glared at me. “He told you to come here. What else did he say?”
So I told Lucca everything.
“Did he leave anything else behind besides the photos?” Lucca went through the stack of glossies on the table. Every single one on top of the desk was of Joe. “This is his target.”
“How can you be certain?” I asked.
“Five minutes after you left, Moretti called. Joe Aronne’s mother lives half a block from the condemned apartment building. She broke her hip last month, so he’s been staying with her.” Based on the different outfits Aronne wore, the photos had been taken over the course of several days. “He’s Steele’s next target.”
“What about Derek?” I held up the freshly printed photos. “Steele asks about him nearly every time we talk.”
“That’s to distract you.”
“I don’t know.” I put my hands on my head and spun in a circle. Lucca had found me by tracking the GPS on the rental. He’d come alone. Heathcliff told him to. We didn’t want to spook Steele, and dozens of federal and local law enforcement officers camped out outside the bar would be hard to miss. We tried that once today with less than stellar results, but the cavalry was on the way. “Why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he do something? Where’s his next victim?”
“Are you sure he was here?” Lucca asked. “Did you see him?”
I shook my head.
“All right, let me check the control booth. Once we figure out what’s going on, I have to call this in.”
“I know.” But I had to come up with my next move before that happened. So I called Cross while I wandered back down the hall, rechecking all the areas I’d examined before. The curtain on the main stage continued to flap, and I looked up to see an air vent above. “Dammit.”
“Parker?” Lucien asked.
“Has Steele reactivated the phone? Do you know where he is?”
“You should be right on top of him,” Cross said.
“Call the number.” That was the ballsiest thing we could do. It would tip our hand and let Steele know just how close we were to tracking him down.
“Give me a sec.”
I stepped onto the stage and got Lucca’s attention, using hand signals so he’d know to listen for the phone. Ten seconds later, I heard it ring. Lucca and I followed the sound back to the printer.
“He was here. There’s no doubt that’s the phone he used to call me,” I said. “When did it reactivate?” I asked Lucien.
My boss gave me the timeline, and I checked my watch. Steele had arrived at the Black Cat moments before I did. He must have unlocked the door, set the photos to print, and left the notes before hightailing it out of there. Lucca and I had searched every inch of the strip joint. The killer wasn’t here.
“Thanks.” I disconnected. “He didn’t stay.”
“It’s another test,” Lucca said. “He must know the police are on the way. The only reason they haven’t arrived yet is because Detective Heathcliff’s running interference for you.”
“That means Steele wants us distracted. We’re wasting time. He’s on his way to kill Joe or Derek, if he hasn’t already. He’s hoping while everyone storms the club and searches for him, we’ll drop the ball on the other fronts.”
“Doesn’t Aronne have a detail on him?” Lucca asked.
“He does.” I returned to the VIP area and plucked the note off the seat. “Steele wants me to dance for him. Do you have any idea what that means? It has to be a clue, right?” I held the note up for Lucca to read and spotted more writing on the back. Hotshot’s a dead man.
The blood drained from my face. “It’s Derek. He’s going to kill Derek. He went out on the raid. He’s not protected. Steele just wanted me out of the way, so he could strike without fear of being interrupted.”
Lucca grabbed my arm before I could escape. “Breathe, Parker.” He plucked the paper from my hand and flipped it over. “Who’s Hotshot?”
“Heathcliff. When he went under, he was Eric ‘Hotshot’ Hall. That’s how Steele knows him. That’s how he keeps referring to him.”
“Okay, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down.” I tugged my arm free, fighting every instinct which told me to charge into battle with guns blazing. Grabbing my phone, I dialed. “Come on. Pick up.” It went to voicemail, and I cursed, hung up, and dialed O’Connell. “Where’s Derek? We have to find him. Steele’s hunting him.”
“He was just here,” O’Connell said. “Thompson, have you seen Heathcliff?” I waited for O’Connell to update me. “You just missed him. Thompson said he told him he had to help you.”
“Shit.” Just as I said that, a blue and white pulled up outside, followed closely by three more police cars.
Lucca put the note down and held out his badge, telling the responding officers who we were and why we were here.
“All right. If you hear from him or see him, find out where he is and get a protection detail on his ass. Steele’s planning to strike.” Before I could hang up, Lucca took the phone from me.
“Hey, O’Connell, does the PD have eyes on Officer Aronne? I have reason to believe Steele’s stalking him. Can you have Moretti call me with his location?” Lucca paused. “Thanks.” He hung up and handed me my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Divide and conquer. The Black Cat is about to turn into police central. Hopefully, we’ll find Aronne and Heathcliff before Steele does, but we’re not going to do it by waiting around here. Steele didn’t leave enough clues behind to indicate where he’s going. Frankly, luring you here doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. Not when Steele was close enough to snap some shots from his phone.” Lucca looked at the photo. “See this,” he pointed to a faint overlay, “it’s a reflection from a window. Steele had to have been in a neighboring building. CSU should be able to tell us which one.”
“Great, get the police started on this. I gotta go. I have to find Derek.”
“Don’t you think he’s on his way here?” Lucca asked. “He told me to find you and help you out. He should be right behind me. Once he gets here, he’ll probably be told to leave, but still, he has to get here first.”
I licked my lips, remembering my last exchange with the detective. Heathcliff wanted to protect me, which meant he would bring the fight to Steele. I just wasn’t sure what the once buttoned-up detective would do now that his inner badass had been unleashed.
“Take care of this and make sure Joe’s protected. Keep everyone safe, Lucca. I’m counting on you.”
Pushing my way past the uniforms, I got into the rental and maneuvered around the parked patrol cars. “Cross,” I said, knowing my boss wouldn’t be pleased with my latest request, “I need you to ping Detective Heathcliff’s phone. I need to know where he is, and I need to know now.”
* * *
“What are you doing here?” Heathcliff asked, peering into the hallway.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“What happened? Did you get there in time? Who did Steele attack?”
“No one yet. At least that’s what I’m hoping.” I looked down at the remn
ants of the washed off spray paint. “Have you lost your mind? You know he’s been watching your house. Why would you come here? Did you notify Moretti or your protection detail?”
“What do you think? Moretti and the Marshals set this up.”
I stared at him, my jaw dropping. “You volunteered to be bait? Are you insane?”
“Maybe we can ask for neighboring padded cells since you’re just as crazy.” He gave me that look, the one reserved for his undercover persona. The same look that forced hardened criminals to take a step back. The look scared me, though I wouldn’t admit it. I’d seen the same look on Francisco Steele’s face and in Antonio Vincenzo’s eyes. It was the look of a killer.
“You want him to make a move on you. Why?”
“It’s better than sleeping in the conference room or waiting for him to realize there’s too much heat on him so he better make you next on his list.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t protect me.”
Heathcliff gave me a half-hearted shrug, still the badass. “I can take care of myself, Parker. I can end this. I should have done it from the get-go.”
“You don’t think Jablonsky or Cooper could handle themselves? You saw what Steele did to them.”
Heathcliff jerked his head from side to side, as if annoyed by a gnat. “They weren’t expecting it. I am.” He held up his bandaged arm. “I’m injured. It gives Steele an advantage, which I’m sure he intends to exploit. He’ll underestimate me. This is a good play. It’ll work.”
“It’s suicidal.”
“You would know.” The conversation frustrated him. “Get out of here. He doesn’t need to get confused by having too many targets to choose from.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I asked. “You’re a cop, Derek. You don’t do things like this.”
“I’ve done things like this as a cop. And if he brings the fight to me, I’m gonna finish it. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Is this about Vito?”
“Fuck, Alex. That’s all I’ve heard from you these last few days. No, it isn’t. But I would have taken care of that too, except you didn’t let me. You had to save me from myself. It’s time I return the favor. And unlike last time, the law is on my side.”
“Derek,” I tried again.
“You should go. Steele knows where to find me. You said he wants me dead. So let him come. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of wondering who we’ll lose next. He will come for you eventually. Give me a chance to stop him before it comes to that.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“Save your breath. You’re not going to change my mind. We’ve been through too much together. You understand the heartache of losing a coworker, a partner, a friend. Steele broke your heart by attacking Jablonsky. He shattered it to pieces when he killed Cooper. I promise you that won’t happen to me.”
“It better not.” I stepped away from the door. “Be careful.”
“You too.” He watched me walk down the sidewalk and back to my car.
I’d already called O’Connell and sounded the alarm. Lucca had done the same, and surely, by now the police presence inside the Black Cat must have reached the same conclusions we did. Steele had one of two possible targets in mind.
Parked two cars over were the officers assigned to guard Heathcliff. Another unit remained half a block away, parked beside a hydrant, and a few Marshals disguised in workout gear stretched beside a bench. Steele wouldn’t get anywhere near Heathcliff, but if he did, I was certain the detective could hold his own in a fair fight. However, Steele didn’t fight fair, so it was best to stack the deck in our favor.
Leaving the detective in capable hands, I drove back to the precinct. I owed Moretti a proper debrief and wanted to know what we had uncovered so far from the Black Cat. I just parked in a reserved space when my phone rang.
Relieved it was my phone and not the burner, I checked the display and approved the video chat request from Lucca. “What’s up?”
The camera shifted, and Steele’s mug filled the screen.
Thirty-four
“Missed me, chica?”
“Francisco.” This had been the first time I’d seen his face. Stubble dusted the top of his recently shaved head, matching his five o’clock shadow where the beard had once been. His eyes were just as cold and ruthless as ever, but there was something else. A crazed desperation that wanted to claw its way out. “Where’s Lucca?”
“Right here.” He turned the camera around just for a second.
The screen filled with a close-up of my partner, gagged and bound. Blood dripped down his face, soaking into his collar and onto his left shoulder. Lucca shook his head, squinting his eyes and blinking rapidly, as if trying to tell me something. Before I could figure out what it was, Steele turned the camera back around.
My blood boiled. “Let him go.”
“Why?” Steele asked.
“I’ll do whatever you want. Just let him go.”
“No.”
“Francisco, if you hurt him, there’s not a place on this earth where you can hide that I won’t find you.”
He grinned wickedly. “That’s what I’m counting on.” The image jostled and flipped, nearly making me motion sick. I might not have realized what I was seeing if it hadn’t been for Eddie’s scream. Despite the gag, it came through loud and clear. Steele’s face filled the screen again. “Game on, bitch.”
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me into the precinct and up the steps, sliding my temporary pass into the reader and tugging on the door until the automatic lock released. Taking the steps two at a time, I burst through the two sets of double doors and into the major crimes unit.
“Steele has Lucca,” I gasped.
All at once, every detective and agent in the room sprang into action. Within the first minute, they had Lucca’s last known location. Thompson had taken my phone and pinged Lucca’s cell. Moretti got the coordinates for the cruiser Lucca had driven. The two matched up. And then we were moving.
I climbed into the car and followed Thompson. O’Connell had gone to the Black Cat after leaving the condemned apartment building. He would meet us. Dispatch had notified all units. The Marshals sent teams ahead to form a perimeter in case Steele tried to escape again. Eight police cars with lights and sirens rushed to Lucca’s location.
The car had been abandoned near the wharf, not far from the water. Fresh blood covered the back seat. Eddie’s blood. I turned away, squeezing my eyes closed and fighting to hold back the tears. This couldn’t be happening. He had a wife and daughter. They needed him. He couldn’t be dead.
“Fan out,” Thompson ordered. “They couldn’t have gotten far.”
Blood smears coated the back door, and I crouched down. “He was dragged.” Moving at a fast clip, I followed the blood trail until it ended abruptly in the middle of the parking lot, near the pier.
“Lucca?” I screamed, straining to hear his response. “Eddie?” I waited. “Answer me.”
Thompson clicked his radio. But no one had found Steele or Lucca.
“Detective,” an officer jogged up behind us, “we found this beneath the front seat.”
“That’s Lucca’s phone.” I grabbed it with shaking hands. The last call placed had been to me. No texts. No messages. No incoming calls. I scrolled through the photos. The newest one on the roll had been taken moments after Steele hung up. It showed a knife shoved into Lucca’s torso beneath his ribs.
Thompson grabbed the phone before I could drop it. He looked at the photo and swore. “They have to be close. We will find him.” While he barked orders to the officers, a platoon of FBI agents arrived on scene, along with a contingent of Marshals and Lt. Moretti.
The lieutenant passed out assignments, and the search began. Lucca had to be here. Steele couldn’t have gotten far. O’Connell, Jacobs, and a few other detectives retraced Lucca’s steps from the Black Cat, hoping to figure out where Steele nabbed him. Anything we could find at this point could only help, but we didn’t hav
e time to waste. We had to find them now.
I moved down to the water and stared into the abyss, wondering if Steele dumped my partner’s body. I checked for blood stains and drag marks but didn’t find any. The dark murky water could conceal a body and blood, but it was too soon to jump to that conclusion. Eddie Lucca had to be alive. I wouldn’t accept any other possibilities.
Racing back to the abandoned cruiser, I slid behind the wheel, searching under both visors, the center console, and the glove box. Nothing. I leaned down, checking beneath the seats and the mats. Getting out, I opened the rear door. Nothing but blood.
“CSU’s on the way,” an officer said, as if this should make me feel better. It did not.
I closed my eyes, hoping to shut out the world. I had to think. Shoving the officer out of the way, I got back into the driver’s seat and fiddled with the onboard computer. Lucca always entered our destinations into the GPS. Even though this wasn’t his car, he probably hadn’t shaken the habit.
“Moretti,” I hollered, “did you speak to the protection detail guarding Aronne?”
“They didn’t see anything, Parker.”
“Did Lucca check in with them? When we split up, that’s where he was headed.”
“They haven’t seen him.”
My eye twitched as I examined the GPS. “According to this, Lucca arrived at his destination.”
“Hey,” Moretti grabbed a hold of one of the Marshals walking by with a tablet, “let me see that.” He tapped on the screen. “Lucca made it there.”
“Steele was waiting for him.” I felt sick. “That’s why Steele left the photographs. He wanted to lure me there, but I chose wrong. Steele knew who I’d pick. He knew I’d go to Heathcliff. Oh god.”
“Easy, Parker.”
But I shrugged away from him. “This is my fault.” Steele knew me better than I knew him, and now Eddie was paying for it. Shoving my emotions to the side, I focused on what we knew. “Steele watched us raid the basement apartments. From there, he went to the Black Cat and then waited for someone to show up at Officer Aronne’s. Somehow, he got the jump on Lucca and brought him here.” I looked around, unable to figure out what was significant about this place. Everywhere Steele led me had been a walk down memory lane. But there was nothing special about this place. “He’s not here.”