Killer on Call 6 Book Bundle (Books 1-6)

by Gwendolyn Druyor

  She flung her arms around his neck. “We couldn’t find you. Then Jessica said you went back in with Terry to be sure everyone was out and the last bomb went off.”

  Tim smiled, hugging Kissy back. “That was an hour ago.”

  “Well, we haven’t been just sitting around waiting for you to show up,” she snapped. “Julia’s been barfing all around the club grounds, by the way.”

  Tim backed out of the hug. “She’s still here?”

  Avi quickly reassured him, “She’s with Curt now. Just following him around, helping.”

  “Helping?” Tim asked.

  “Curt is keeping her close.” Mayor Sutton melted out of a group of fire fighters hogging the canopy along the club’s front wall despite the fact that they were wearing full rain gear. “You don’t have to worry about Julia.”

  “Good to see you’re safe, sir,” Avi said.

  The mayor pulled a folded Mylar blanket from his coat pocket and shook it open. He leaned in, speaking privately as he draped it over Kissy’s shoulders. “You should be worried about yourselves.”

  “We’re okay. I need to take care of things here,” Tim reassured him. “How are you? How is our friend?”

  “I’m fine. Mrs. Elian unfortunately—“ He led them a few steps farther away from the firefighters and policemen around the entrance. “I kneeled in to inject her and she knocked the syringe from my hand. It shattered. I’m very sorry about your rug, Tim.”

  Tim took a breath to ask for more details but he found he couldn’t speak. Vanessa had been tormenting him since the night he’d come to town. And now, finally, she was gone. He saw that Avi and Kissy had caught their breaths as well. Before any of them could speak, the mayor noticed Kissy’s leg.

  “You need to go to the hospital.”

  Kissy shrugged him off, “I’m fine till morning. Jen said so. There’s a whole line of people waiting for a ride to the hospital tonight.”

  “You should still go. Tim, David Lee is here. He might recognize you from the poker game.”

  “Why is the police commissioner here?” Avi looked around through the rain.

  The mayor wiped rain from his face. “Seven bombs went off at the opening of Red Logan’s club,” he pointed out. “That’s why all the police department bigwigs are here, including Chief Woodsen whom I know would find it very suspicious to find you here, at the sight of yet another bombing.”

  Avi started to protest but then lowered his head, trying to look inconspicuous. It amused Tim. A six and a half foot tall linebacker-looking boy scout hiding behind a five foot nothing pixie in shredded dancewear.

  “You don’t have to go home. Go to Gina’s cafe. You’ll be close enough if you’re needed.”

  “We’re not going to Gina’s,” Avi quickly insisted. “We are responsible for this. We need to stay until we know everyone is out.”

  Tim sighed. “And I kinda sorta live here,” he pointed out.

  “I can text if they clear your apartment, Tim. But I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to find someplace else to stay. Killer can stay with us tonight. Paula might insist on that.”

  Reminded of his short-lived loft home, Tim merely mouthed the question, “and the body?”

  “There is no body,” the mayor replied just as quietly. He added enigmatically, “I called in some favors.”

  “Thank you,” Tim began.

  The mayor interrupted, “Don’t thank me. They took the. . .” He paused, looking around, “rug and the cameras but they didn’t dare stay long enough to scrub the place. The officials are going to have to inspect the entire building. They’re going to see her improvements.”

  Kissy laughed. An odd noise in the somber, rainy, night, she laughed and doubled over laughing. They drew stares from the people nearby and some farther away. Avi ducked his head.

  “Sorry,” she gasped. “Sorry. But that’s Red Logan’s apartment on paper.” She pulled herself together enough to clarify. “I think, Mr. Mayor, that rumors of kinky bondage equipment and the mess we left in there could only help that crazy Aussie’s rep!” And she lost it again, laughing until she tripped over her own feet. She caught herself on her bum leg. The shock of pain registered on her face and she shot a guilty look at the mayor like she was afraid he’d make her go to the hospital. Tim dove in.

  “We’re not going to Gina’s.” He slipped his shoulder under Kissy’s arm. “I need to know if I’m gonna have to raze the building.”

  “I don’t know if that’s what you should be worrying about,” the mayor said gently. “I’m doing my best to keep the authorities off of Red’s back. They agreed to not prosecute. But only after I promised them he’ll pay the cost to the city as well as covering all medical bills properly registered with the victim’s assistance fund.”

  Tim blanched. He actually felt all the blood drain from his face.

  A crackling voice on a loudspeaker drew everyone’s attention to a woman encased in a white biohazard suit. “The building is now off limits to everyone barring the bomb disposal unit.”

  “Okay,” Kissy wrapped her arm around Tim’s waist. “We’re going to Gina’s.”.

  Twenty-six

  Stars twinkled overhead now that most of the storm clouds had blown away. The air smelled fresh and clean with just a hint of malt like a brand new day in a whiskey distillery. Debris cluttered the cobblestones in front of the Canal Street Cafe. Sparkly bracelets and lost earrings glittered up from the street. Many of them hung tight in the crevasses while the cigarette butts, joint ends, cocktail napkins, and smaller pieces of wood and glass were washed along in the rivulets of firefighting foam.

  Tim watched from his perch on the porch of Gina Makcharoenwoodhi’s latest venture. She’d bought the place when Tim bought his building. Her cafe wasn’t as wildly popular as his club but a dozen people had not been taken away in ambulances at her opening. And no one died.

  He closed his eyes in the moist air rising from his hot tea to stop himself from watching the steam rising over his short-lived home.

  “Julia has gone to the hospital,” Kissy announced from her nest of cushions on the loveseat. “But she’s still following Curt around. She’s having fun, now that he’s given her something to combat the nausea and diarrhea.” She swiped her phone locked and tossed it beside the pillow elevating her leg, tucking the wool blanket back under her chin. “You have to find out what he gave her and get some of that shit, Tim.”

  Avi set his beer bottle on the table. “Or stop poisoning your friends,” he suggested.

  “I didn’t—“ Tim began but stopped when Kissy beat him to it.

  “He didn’t poison Julia.”

  “Right,” Avi agreed. “No one poisoned Julia. And no one set a bomb under the stage either despite what we were told.”

  Silence descended on the porch as the three avoided resuming the fight they’d been rehashing over and over for the past two hours. With none of the action that kept them busy at the club their minds were free to rehash what went wrong and assign blame while they awaited final word from the fire marshal on whether the club was condemned or salvageable.

  Tim had tipped the hell out of Terrance, Terry Able, Jessica, and Corinne the coat check girl who’d not only opened all of the exit doors but also personally found a way to contact every nearby business owners and let them know of the fire. She’d gotten a few of them to come out and open their doors for those guests who had to wait for taxis or public transportation. The taco joint guy had just been waiting for the club to close anyway.

  Avi surged to his feet and strode over to lean on the railing near the hanging basket of nasturtiums. His skin glowed in the yellow lamplight of the side street. He wore only his undershirt as his coat and button down were still tumbling in Tim’s dryer. Tim was about to apologize for that when Avi sighed out, “I’m sorry I insisted we kill her with extabee.”

  Tim and Kissy both flicked glances at the cafe entrance but no one could have heard him over the din inside. Tim laughed
through his own sigh. Looking at Avi, he pulled the borrowed blanket tighter around his shoulders.

  “She’s dead,” he said. “That’s all that really matters.”

  Avi turned to stare at the KC, dumbstruck. Kissy laughed out loud. She used Gina’s colorful wool blanket to mop up the spiked hot chocolate she’d spit out.

  “It’s strange, isn’t it?” Kissy licked up a nip of whip cream. “Vanessa was safe. The mayor saved her. But she shattered her only hope.”

  An explosion of warmth, light, and excitement startled all three as the GinNtonix’ baritone burst outside. “Avi! Manager, at the club. Here now. Wants to sign us! Come on!”

  Avi shook his head and concentrated to understand what Scout was saying. Anyone else, Tim thought, would have asked the guy what he was talking about. Avi took the time to really listen to people. Scout bounced in the doorway, urging Avi to hurry with palsied hand gestures.

  The big man grabbed his beer from the table and finished it. “Cool.” He leaned down to kiss his girl, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Kissy offered her cheek. She swallowed her mouthful of cocoa and offered a, “congratulations” to both of the singers.

  Avi crossed past Scout into the cafe. The baritone gave Tim and Kissy a double thumbs up and darted inside after him. The closing door cut off the noisy life of the cafe, leaving Tim and Kissy alone in the quiet. Tim shivered.

  “Come here.”

  Kissy held up the edge of her blanket. He hesitated, looking at the door her boyfriend had just exited through. “I’m good.”

  Kissy didn’t budge. “Come here.”

  Tim took a deep breath of steam and snuggled in beside her. He tucked his own silver blanket over their shoulders and spread it down to their laps. The warmth felt good. She felt good.

  He sipped his tea. She tucked her nose beneath the blankets and sipped her hot chocolate.

  Her phone buzzed.

  Tim reached forward to pick it up and Kissy leaned over to see the screen. It was a text from Terry Able.

  Tell Avi there was a bomb in the coat check closet but it was a dud. All the coats are safe.

  “Good news.” Tim tried to sound cheerful.

  The phone buzzed again as he leaned forward to set it down.

  And all the books made it. Wait till you hear what Red Logan had in the apartment upstairs!

  Kissy laughed. She laughed so hard she snorted. Tim wanted to join her but the best he could do was smile. Kissy let her giggles fade away before she set a hot chocolate warmed hand on his thigh.

  “What’s up?”

  Tim brushed a strand of hair from Kissy’s face. Even with dirt smudged cheeks and a bloody leg her eyes sparkled. Though her makeup made it clear that she’d been crying at some point in the evening. The red beaded choker she’d been wearing to hide her scar was gone.

  He’d nearly gotten her killed again.

  She titled her head at him, asking for a response to her question.

  He looked away at the wet cobblestones and attempted a chuckle. “I’m not very good at this.”

  Her gaze burned into the back of his head but the blanket shifted and he heard her slurp her cocoa. Eventually she said, “I think Avi and I have caused a lot of trouble for you.”

  “Sure,” he did laugh at that. “But you’ve helped more than you’ve hindered. I kill people for a living and you jumped right on board.”

  “No I didn’t, jackass,” Kissy retorted.

  “Yeah,” he corrected her, “you kinda actually did.”

  She looked down at her hot chocolate inside the blanket for a full minute before she clarified, “Mr. E was going to kill me. It was self-defense.”

  Tim nodded quietly. “And Coach Koehler?”

  Kissy didn’t even breath, “Had it coming.”

  Tim snorted.

  “You don’t actually have a life, Tim.” Kissy laid her head on his shoulder to soften her words.

  He thought about that. He thought about her hand on his thigh and the beads of her shredded dress pressing into his arm. He thought about the scar across her throat and the stun gun on steroids and her ukulele case in his un-bombed loft.

  “I never wanted a life before,” he whispered.

  They sat there, comfortably silent for a while. Tim noticed relative silence inside the cafe as well. A moment later they heard Avi’s acapella group belting out a remixed Manhattan Transfer classic. The man could definitely sing.

  “So he was a real hero tonight.”

  Kissy lifted her head from the cocoa. “Who?”

  Tim chuckled lightly, a little concerned that she’d bummed pain killers from several sources. “Avi.”

  “Oh.” She looked toward the singing. “Yeah. Yeah, he got everyone out of the Disco just before the bomb in there went off.” She sipped and added, “a real hero.”

  “You must be proud to be dating him,” Tim offered.

  “Sure.” She sat silent for a moment, listening to the song. “But you know I heard something about you.”

  “That I heroically protected hundreds of people from a ticking fog machine?” he asked.

  “I was right there with you, pal.” Kissy elbowed his ribs. She laid her head on his shoulder again. “You know I was deaf for a good while there. I couldn’t hear much of anything farther than a foot or two away. But people told me,” she took a sip of hot chocolate and extricated her face from the blankets, “that the soundtrack of the night was a guy screaming Kiersten! Kissy! You were pulling people out and searching for more bombs, same as Avi.” She paused at the sound of applause from the cafe. “But you were also looking for me.”

  Tim took a breath to respond. Before he could, the warm, joyful door opened again and Avi came out in a burst of noise. A couple dressed in bedraggled clubwear followed him out, laughing and shouting goodbye to new friends inside. They hopped down the three wooden steps with their arms around each other. At the bottom, he kissed her.

  “What do you think,” he asked when he came up for air, “a complete disaster?”

  The girl smiled and swept a strand of her ruined hairdo off her face. “Best first date ever,” she replied.

  She kissed him and they skipped off down the street, picking their way past remnants from the club.

  Avi picked up Kissy’s phone and held out his hand. “It’s time to get you to the hospital. We’ll have them check you out and then take Julia off Curt’s hands.”

  Tim stiffened.

  Kissy didn’t move. “Dr. Goodface is at the hospital. He’ll take her home. I’m fine here.”

  “Tim,” Avi pleaded, “tell her she needs to see a doctor.”

  Suddenly Tim understood what had been bothering him. It wasn’t how horribly they’d screwed up the assassination. It wasn’t that they’d believed a known liar or that they’d put the mayor in such a delicate position. It was that they had become a they. And that was why he hadn’t been able to keep Kissy safe.

  He stood and tucked the blankets carefully back around Kissy. He set his tea on the coffee table and declared, “I don’t want to be in charge.” Striding back to his place at the edge of the porch he noted the clearing sky over his club. “I don’t want to be in charge of Team KC. I don’t want there to be a Team KC. I work better alone.”

  “Have you ever worked alone?” Avi asked.

  Tim turned on Avi but he had no argument. He’d worked alone for the six months it took him to travel from Finn’s deathbed to Julia’s sickbed.

  Kissy stood. She folded the blankets and set them on the love seat cushions. “You miss Finn,” she said.

  Tim couldn’t look in Kissy’s eyes. He couldn’t ask her to keep putting herself at risk. As long as he was around, her life was in danger. He hopped down the three steps to the street. “I’m gonna bounce. No way they’re gonna let me back into the loft tonight. Go easy, Avi. Sorry about losing you your job. Take care of yourself, Kissy.” He had so much more to say to her but he left it at, “I’m sorry about everything.�
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  He pulled his helmet off his motorcycle and slipped it on.

  “Wait,” Kissy grabbed the porch rail Tim had been leaning on. “I’m ready to go to the ER. Will you take me?”

  “I can take you,” Avi insisted.

  Kissy slipped her hand into Avi’s.

  Tim looked up at the two as he climbed onto his bike. Her hand disappeared in his enormous mitt. The former cop lifted his other hand to her face and bent down as if to kiss her.

  But she slipped her hand out of his, holding her phone. “You should go talk to the talent manager. It’s a big deal for the group.”

  She limped down the steps, released his second helmet from the cargo net, and threw her injured leg over the bike behind Tim. “Let’s go get some stitches. And good drugs.”

  “I think you’ve already had enough good drugs,” he warned.

  “Maybe,” Kissy admitted. “But not legal ones.”

  She donned the helmet and tightened the chin strap.

  “I can take you,” Avi echoed himself. “I can get a cab, Kissy. A car.”

  Kissy hollered over the rumble of the engine, “I’m good. Go. Sing. Be awesome.”

  Tim saw the sadness in Avi’s eyes. But the man just said, “be safe.”

  Tim nodded, still hesitating, still searching for the courage to send Kissy back to the safer choice.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He kicked the bike into gear, nodded a farewell to Avi, and rolled slowly down the cobblestones.

  “Hey Tim?” Her breath on his neck sent shivers down his spine.

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “We’ll swing by your apartment and get some warm clothes.”

  “No,” Kissy breathed. “I mean, yes please, thank you. But,” her grip convulsed as he picked up speed. “But the syringe that Vanessa shattered.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her, confused. “The antidote you mean?”

  “Yeah.” She stopped for a moment and looked back to Avi. With a sigh she pulled herself in tight against Tim’s body as they turned the corner onto Highley Road. Then she posed the question that should have been niggling at his brain, “Wasn’t the syringe made of plastic?”