by Jory Strong
Kye closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “Ready for this to be over with so we can take you home with us.”
“To meet the family?”
His gaze met Draigon’s. “To keep.”
Savannah hugged him and disengaged, ignoring the undertone she heard in his voice and shying away from thoughts of just how she was going to introduce Kye and Draigon to her family. “Let’s hit it,” she said after they’d dressed, using a dishtowel to keep from leaving her prints on the rifle case or the registration—not that she was convinced Vaccaro was going to process them. But then again, given Kye’s involvement, she’d just as soon the stuff disappeared.
They took the SUV Kye had shown up with. Hoping they could arrive at the rendezvous unnoticed since they were the only three people who knew about the car. Probably. She wouldn’t put it past Vaccaro and Kelleher to stake out the cabin though she hadn’t seen any sign of a tail either leaving the ranch or when they got close to Virginia City.
Savannah checked her gun, frowning as she thought about Kye and Draigon being unarmed. It was an inconsistency, something she should have clued in to from the start. Then again, they weren’t really bodyguards by profession, they were bounty hunters. Maybe the kind of jobs they took didn’t require them to carry concealed—which was actually kind of a relief to her. Savannah’s stomach churned thinking about what it would be like to love someone whose job put him in the line of fire every day.
She grimaced. Yeah, kind of like loving a cop. She put the gun back in her holster and picked up the cell phone to check the charge level and signal strength for the hundredth time. She nearly dropped it when it rang.
“Where are you?” The Ferret asked.
She told him.
“Okay. Do a U-turn. Pull in at the Gold Country Truck Stop. Go into the restaurant and wait.” She passed the instructions on to Kye and a little while later they were pulling in.
The truck stop was busy but not crowded. There were maybe twenty big rigs lined up in three rows on the cracked asphalt parking lot to the right of the pumps. Savannah had seen it when it was worse. When bad weather going into California had drivers holed up and waiting, not wanting to get trapped in snow or delayed by chain-reaction wrecks.
They decided to go in together since The Ferret was expecting bodyguards. He surprised her. She figured she’d have to wait for him to show, if he showed at all. But he was sitting in the back, tucked behind a potted tree, the shine on its leaves screaming plastic.
Draigon stopped close to the door. “We will stay here.”
Kye halted next to him. “He might speak more freely if he knows we are watching the parking lot.”
“Thanks,” Savannah said and kept going.
“I recognize the dark-haired one from outside The Dive,” The Ferret said when she joined him.
“It would have been nice if you’d warned me your car was going to explode. If my friend hadn’t pulled me back into the alley, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“You gotta believe me. I never saw it coming. I mean, not a car bomb. I would’ve warned you if I’d known.”
The Ferret glanced around nervously, the profile of his narrow, sharp features reminding Savannah why she’d given him the nickname.
“Look,” he said, “the day I called you to set up the meet I came home and found my place had been trashed. Then I go to The Dive and you’re bringing someone else into it. What am I supposed the think? It made me nervous. All of a sudden a new face appears when every time I turn around someone from Vice is sniffing around, asking about me.”
The Ferret pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, tapped the bottom on the heel of his hand so a couple of cigarettes popped into view. He pushed them down with his thumb, then immediately tapped the pack again, popping the cigarettes up like they were bread in a toaster. Pushed them down as he said, “I’ve got this friend. She’s got information. Big-time information. Only there are complications. The kind that can put a person in the morgue.”
“You’re talking about Becky Jaworski, now Becky Traynor.”
He took a cigarette out and put the pack back in his shirt pocket. “You figured that out.”
“You sent the nickel and dime chips to the station. You wanted me to check out the Easy Times Casino, stir things up there, maybe find out Becky was missing and lots of people are asking around, looking for her even though her husband hasn’t filed a missing persons report.” Savannah cocked her head. “What I can’t figure out is why you had Bert give me the tip about the underage girls Becky was running as part of her escort service. Don’t tell me she suddenly got a conscience and decided they needed to be hauled off to foster homes.”
“Becky didn’t go to the playground and lure those girls into the life. They were already in the business.” He looked uncomfortable and Savannah wondered if he’d told Becky that he’d passed on a tip about the girls.
“She knew they weren’t legal,” Savannah said.
“Yeah, well who can prove that?”
“The one, Holland, is thirteen. And now she’s missing. Bert tell you that?”
“I thought you hauled them in.”
“I did. Apparently nothing stuck. The one I’m most interested in helping is Holland. She’s probably with her sister Ivy and another girl named Camryn. You know where they might be?”
“No.” The Ferret rolled the cigarette into his palm and closed his fingers around it. “Look, I’m not saying it’s okay to bang a thirteen-year-old, but that’s not the big picture here. The big picture is what Steven Traynor has going with a guy named Carlos Dominguez.”
“Laundering Dominguez’s profits from smuggling and blackmail?”
“What blackmail?”
“You saying you don’t know anything about luring men to the Easy Times then hooking them up with the girls and taking the kind of vacation snapshots not meant for wives and children to see?”
“If that was going on, that was all Traynor. The girls were his idea, but he put the operation in Becky’s name, let her run it. She signed a pre-nup, that’s the only way he’d marry her. No alimony if they split. But she could keep whatever she made on the escort service while they were married.”
“Sounds like a perfect motive for running a blackmail scheme along with the girls.”
The Ferret shook his head. “Look, Becky didn’t need the extra money. She wasn’t planning on things ending with Traynor and he wasn’t cheap when it came to buying her whatever she wanted. He’s a guy who likes to have celebrities and bigwigs come to the casino. He likes to be seen and having a wife decked out in the finest is part of the show. But Becky knows the value of putting some cash aside in case things don’t turn out the way they should. So she ran the escort service and liked doing it. She liked being a part of things.”
“So what went wrong?”
Chapter Seventeen
“Traynor couldn’t keep it in his pants, that’s what went wrong.” The Ferret opened his hand and dropped the wilted cigarette to the table. “Becky’s hitting thirty this year. You know how that is, right? Not personally, I mean, but you know what I’m talking about? Right? Thirty might as well be put out to pasture in Vegas, like banging your grandmother. It’s not so bad in Reno…” He glanced toward the door and fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers.
“She caught him cheating,” Savannah said.
“Yeah. She didn’t really think he was getting it somewhere else—I mean, Becky’s a looker, and not to be telling tales, but she and I were an item once, and she knows how to keep a guy happy. Only she’s approaching the big three-oh, so she had him followed. Found out he was sampling the merchandise. Using one of the girls she was running.”
“One of the underage girls?”
“No. Camryn.” His gaze met Savannah’s. “You hauled her in. You got a take on her.”
Oh yeah, Savannah had a take on her—and a huge dislike for Camryn’s part in peddled underage girls. Big mou
th, big attitude. I got the world by the cock and I’m getting off on it, was only a start to how Camryn could be summed up. And even without knowing Becky Jaworski, Savannah could put herself in Becky’s mind. Imagine what Becky had been feeling. Finding out her husband was cheating. Not with a stranger, but with a girl who probably smirked and gloated, all those looks suddenly hitting their target and playing on Becky’s fears, her ego. Her anger.
“Let me guess, rather than confronting Traynor, Becky started collecting information about his money laundering activities. Maybe thinking to negotiate a nice divorce settlement. Only he wouldn’t cooperate.”
“Wouldn’t or couldn’t. The guy he’s been dealing with doesn’t like loose ends or loose cannons. A couple of close calls and Becky came to me. That’s why we’re sitting here. She wants to deal.” The Ferret sighed. A loud exhale that deflated him slightly. “She’s got stuff on Traynor, but he’s got stuff on her too.”
“Running the underage girls?”
“Maybe more than that. I don’t know.”
Savannah was guessing the blackmail scheme was the more Traynor had on his wife. Especially if he was screwing Camryn and Camryn was in on it. But she believed Ricky when he said he didn’t know anything about it.
The Ferret worried the collar of his shirt. “Traynor’s the kind of guy who’s got connections. Law-abiding ones and not so law-abiding ones. She didn’t know who to trust. Which is why she called me and I called you. To start the ball rolling for a deal. She wants immunity from prosecution. She wants protection. And she wants to walk away with everything she’s earned from the escort service. In exchange she’ll hand over what she’s got on Traynor and his dealings with Carlos Dominguez.”
Savannah nearly smiled at the way The Ferret had brought the conversation to where she wanted it. “I’d say a deal is possible. Very possible. The FBI has been watching Traynor’s casino for a while. They already figured the connection to Dominguez and they’re anxious to nail them. Anxious enough that when your car blew up and word got around I was looking for you they actually went to my captain and called me in. They’re willing to offer you protection and immunity right now. You take it and I’m betting you can get the same for Becky. That’s the best I can do for you, Ricky.”
The Ferret pulled at his shirt collar again, this time leaving sweat on the material. “You trust whoever you’ve been talking to?”
“Vaccaro and Kelleher. Yeah, I trust them to deliver on their promises. I told Vaccaro about the meet right after you called me.” She pulled out the cell phone, deciding to gamble, to prove she could be trusted in order to close the deal. “But this is the weak link. It can be tracked by satellite. So I wouldn’t put it past Vaccaro and Kelleher to be close by. If you want to clear out, I’ll stay put long enough to give you a head start. Your choice. But if it were me, I’d take them up on their offer so I could get on with my life.”
The Ferret picked up the cigarette, closing his fingers around it and finally asking, “You mind?”
Savannah grimaced. “Yeah. But go ahead if you have to.”
The answer seemed to calm him. He shook his head and put the cigarette back in his shirt pocket. “That’s why I called you to begin with. You play things straight. You’re an honest cop.” He retrieved the cigarette and put it in his mouth, letting it hang from the corner so it bounced up and down when he said, “I’ll talk to the guys you’ve been talking to.”
Savannah flicked open the cellular. “Now?”
“Yeah.” The cigarette went back in his pocket. “Becky’s not cut out for cheap motel rooms and staying out of sight.”
Savannah didn’t give him time to change his mind. She put in a call to Vaccaro. “Ricky’s willing to come in and bring Becky Traynor in.”
“What’s your location?”
“You really need me to tell you?”
Silence. A bark of laughter. “We’re down the road. I’m in a black Lincoln Town Car. Kelleher’s in a dark blue one.”
She closed the phone. “They’ll be here in a minute. You sure you can’t tell me where the three girls are?”
“What gives with the girls? Becky’s got plenty on Traynor. More than enough.”
Savannah rolled her shoulders. She wasn’t going to remind him about the blackmail scheme. “Mainly I’m interested in the kid. Holland. She got to me.”
The Ferret started to reach for the cigarette again but dropped his hand and rearranged the salt and pepper shakers then put them back in their original positions. “I’ll ask Becky when I see her. She mentioned a place she kept. For clients who wanted to kick back, party, fuck, whatever. Maybe the girls are holed up there.” He fidgeted for a few minutes. Wiped his hands on his pants, pulled the cigarette back out of his pocket. “Look, I got to get something from my car.”
“Okay. The guys and I’ll go out with you.” Savannah stood, wondering what she’d do if he lost his nerve and tried to bolt.
“I’ve got to have a smoke.”
“Fine. I’ll give you space.” She decided to gamble again. “Or I’ll wait here. Like I said a minute ago, Ricky. This is your choice.”
He rubbed his palms over his thighs, leaving a light trail of sweat. “No. No. That’s okay.” He paused as if a thought had just occurred to him. “How come you had a bodyguard with you at The Dive?”
“I didn’t. He’s a new addition to my life. He was actually following the woman you saw me meeting. She’s a friend. He’s related to her boyfriend. But to make a long story short, the boyfriend is on the scene now and Kye’s at loose ends, so he’s guarding me.” Among other things—like seeing to my sexual health. Though Savannah tried to keep that thought off her face and out of her voice.
The Ferret nodded, apparently satisfied, and headed for the door.
Savannah saw the window of opportunity for getting answers closing. Once the Feds had him, she’d be lucky to find out anything. “You hear anything about someone in Vice passing on information to Dominguez or his lieutenants or Traynor?”
Ricky shook his head as they got to where Kye and Draigon had positioned themselves. “Everything okay out there?” Savannah asked.
“The trucks block a portion of the entrance,” Kye warned as The Ferret reached the front door.
Movement caught Savannah’s eye. A dark blue Town Car coming in. “That’s Kelleher.”
Savannah followed the Ferret out the door, his hurried steps making her hurry, making her nerves jangle despite the fact he was soon going to be someone else’s problem.
She should have felt relieved. Instead she felt tense. Like a runner in a relay race who just had to stay ahead of the pack for a few more minutes, until the baton could be passed, and then she could collapse on the sidelines.
A big rig engine sprung to life. Then another. Then a third. Spitting clouds of diesel exhaust. A convoy ready to set off. Their sound masking any other for a moment.
The Ferret lit the cigarette. Stopped. Tensed. Aware of the Town Car approaching.
“That’s one of the guys I was telling you about,” Savannah said. Holding her breath. Waiting to see if Ricky was going to make a run for it.
He didn’t.
She exhaled. Felt some of the tension leave as Kelleher pulled to a stop and got out of the car, leaving the engine running.
A black car came out from behind the trucks. Moving fast.
Vaccaro, Savannah thought, but her hand was already going to her gun. Her body reacting before her mind.
A second look. Shades of déjà vu. The black car from outside The Dive though only her subconscious had noted it.
She was firing even as the driver’s arm emerged from the car with a gun. A shot going off even as she pulled the trigger and sent a second bullet toward the car.
The Ferret screamed. Pain and fear echoing in the air as Savannah unloaded everything she had and the car kept coming. Stopping only when it hit Kelleher’s vehicle.
Two down, one to go, Savannah thought, mind cold, heart thunder
ing in her ears, recognizing one of the Abrego brothers. Psycho II. The top part of his skull a mass of bone and blood against the dark grey car interior. She couldn’t remember his first name.
“Jose Abrego,” Kelleher said, bringing her back to the present, into an awareness of masculine sobs. She turned. Feeling like she was in slow motion. Suddenly afraid of what she was going to find.
Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the blood on Kye. On Draigon.
Then reality snapped into place. The moment moving into real time.
The Ferret was hit. Bleeding. But even to her untrained eye, he wasn’t critical.
A crowd was starting to gather. Curiosity overtaking common sense and fear.
Then Vaccaro was there. Flashing his FBI badge and calling it in.
She knelt down next to Ricky and he grabbed her hand like it was his lifeline. “Hang on. We’ll get you out of here.”
“How the fuck…did they find me?” he asked, gasping out fresh sobs when Kye shifted his weight, applying more pressure to the wound on Ricky’s shoulder. The blood oozing from underneath Kye’s hand.
“Good question. One I intend to ask too,” Savannah said. Feeling guilty. Pissed.
She’d assumed if her cell was being tracked by Kelleher and Vaccaro then they’d be watching to see if anyone else had a trace on it. Maybe not.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of statements. A trip back to Reno and the captain’s office. A surrendering of her gun. An offer of counseling. Pats on the back. Questions. There was no way to hide the connection between her and Vaccaro and Kelleher this time, though the details of what they were involved in were kept under wraps.
“We’ll debrief you as soon as we get Nowak squared away and Becky Traynor in protective custody,” Vaccaro said before they parted company.
“You’re on administrative leave now,” Kelleher said. “Take a vacation for real. Get out of town. We’ll investigate how Jose Abrego found Nowak.”
“What about the girls? What about the blackmail pictures?” Savannah asked, riding the thin edge between anger and tears and hating every second of it.