Broad Daylight

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Broad Daylight Page 8

by A. M. Wilson


  If I were a prissy-ass cheerleader, I’d give a little skip and a clap. The fun is about to begin.

  I retrieve the package with ease. The addressed side of the building faces away from the main road and backs up to a dense tree line, so unless someone happened to be walking by, nobody’s going to notice the petite woman milling around. Even so, I don a curly red wig, big black sunglasses, and an oversized sweatshirt before hopping out of my car in case there are any functional security cameras. I doubt it, but I can’t be too careful, or the fun will be over before it begins. What I do is entirely about the thrill, and I have no interest in getting caught.

  I make the trip back across town, leaving my newest toy in the car to sneak back into the empty house. Normally, I try to be settled before dusk hits—lights easily draw attention—but I need to collect packages in a timely manner or else risk them falling into someone else’s hands.

  I trade the red wig for the blond ponytail one, and leave my car on the block behind where I’m squatting until it’s time to strike. A short trek through a private trail in the trees brings me straight to the little rambler in a nice neighborhood. The back door opens easily with a whisper of a squeak because I left it unlocked. These people are lucky most of their other neighbors mind their own business, or they could come back from vacation to find someone swiped their flat screen.

  As I draw the sheer curtain back, intent on spending the night observing the house across the street, a spike of anger pricks my gut. Workplace Barbie stands on Reece James’s front steps. The pretty, black-haired woman, dressed in nice slacks and a blouse, speaks to him after he opens the door before she strolls in. Even from this distance, I sense the familiarity and dare I say, excitement coming from her. Her stiff posture could be nothing more than a lover’s spat or foreplay.

  This bitch doesn’t know what she’s done. Everything pointed to Reece being unattached. Having a woman lurking around complicates things, and I fucking hate complications.

  I dig out my burner phone and stab the buttons to text a trusted contact.

  Thunder’s rolling.

  Our code for: get ready to move. My contact has one job and gets paid based on the execution. If anything goes wrong, he loses ten percent of his cut. If he loses a target, fifty percent. And if we get caught, the fucker gets zero and finds himself dead before I’m carted off to prison for the rest of my life.

  While I wait for his response, I carefully make my way back outside into the dark and walk with an even gait down the block. Nothing about a casual evening stroll is threatening. At the stop sign, I cross and head back in the direction I came on the other side of the street. As I near Reece’s house, I hold my phone beneath my arm to snap a picture of the black Charger and plates parked out front.

  My phone buzzes with a response when I’m one house past James’s.

  100 percent chance of rain.

  Translation: he’s good to go.

  Tomorrow evening too, I respond.

  A chance of lightning?

  A sinister grin graces my face.

  Absolutely.

  10

  Reece

  Puffing out my cheeks, I tilt my head to the side and cross my eyes, holding the silly look for several seconds. When the childish laughter hits me from the computer screen, I uncross them and look at the two small kids. Maggie and Chris make their own funny faces, and I laugh with them.

  “I tink you won, Uncle Weece. You always make the funniest faces,” Maggie says, still giggling.

  I chuckle. “I don’t know about that. You and your brother make some pretty hilarious faces.”

  Chris grins on the screen. “Mama says we’re both comegians.”

  “It’s comedians,” Niko says in the background.

  “Yeah. That.”

  “You kids being good for your parents?” I ask the pair.

  Both nod. “Uh-huh. Mama said we’re the bes kids ever.”

  A smile curls my lips at Chris’s reply. “Your mom’s told me the same thing. And your dad did too.”

  From their smile, they like that answer.

  “Did you get my seashell?” Maggie asks.

  “I did.” I pick up my laptop and turn it to the side so the camera shows the shell sitting on my nightstand. “I keep it on my nightstand.”

  She claps her hands and squeals. “Yah!”

  As much as I hate that the shell is now connected to my stalker and their vileness, I refuse to let them ruin something that means so much to Maggie.

  “Alright, you two. It’s time for dinner. Say goodbye to your Uncle Reece.” The top half of Aislin appears in the screen as she finagles the kids off the couch.

  “Bye, Uncle Weece!” Maggie yells, blowing me a kiss. “Love you!”

  “Bye, Uncle Weece!” Chris follows suit with a wave.

  “Talk to you later. Love ya!”

  “Go wash your hands. I’ll be in the kitchen in a minute,” she hollers as they run off.

  Aislin takes the kids' place on the couch, her beautiful face filling the screen.

  “Hey.” She smiles.

  “Hey, you. How are you doing?”

  She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m doing good. The kids are keeping me busy.”

  “Motherhood suits you, Aislin. You look as good as ever.”

  “Stop flirting with my wife!” Niko’s yell comes across the speakers. “And get your own!”

  I chuckle. “Like that’ll ever happen.”

  Aislin giggles, and I’m reminded once again why Niko loves the woman so much. Aislin is not only beautiful on the outside but she’s also just as stunning on the inside. And as much as she’s been through over the years, it’s a true miracle she’s kept her sanity. She’s got to be the strongest woman I’ve ever met.

  I lean back against the pillows, balancing the laptop on my lap. “How’s that brother of mine treating you?”

  She looks off to the side, no doubt glancing at Niko, and a gentle smile lifts her lips. “He’s been wonderful.”

  Niko appears as he bends over and places a kiss against Aislin’s lips. I reach over for my beer on the nightstand to give them a moment of privacy.

  It’s amazing at the differences in Aislin from the time she was first discovered to now. Niko and I weren’t on talking terms when he first found Aislin again, but according to him, she was very skittish and hated any type of physical contact. It wasn’t until months later that Niko and I made amends, and I started coming around. My sister-in-law was like a frightened doe. She was terrified of her own shadow, but you could see a spark of strength shining through.

  “I’m going to go check on the kids and finish up dinner. We’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

  I look back at the screen with Aislin’s statement.

  “It was good seeing you again, Reece. You need to come down and see us soon. The kids miss you.”

  “I miss them too. You take care, Aislin.”

  With a small wave, she gets up from the couch, leaving Niko and me alone. His eyes follow her until she’s gone before coming back to the screen. He gets right to the point.

  “How are things there? Any other incidents?”

  I cross my ankles. “No, thank fuck. It’s been quiet for the past several days.” I tack on, “Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

  “There’s no telling. Has Tavers found anything?”

  Instead of answering, I ask my own question. “Have you talked to Tavers lately?”

  Something passes across his features and he answers with a quiet, “Yeah. I fucking hate what Mindy’s going through.”

  I nod and wait a moment. “With him having so much on his plate, he passed my case on to another detective.”

  “Who did you get?”

  “Danica Lawrence.”

  His brows drop as he thinks. “There wasn’t a Lawrence when I left. Why does that name sound familiar?”

  I chug back the rest of my beer and drop the empty bottle on the nightst
and. It’s no surprise Niko doesn’t remember Dani. All of his time back then was spent focused on Aislin. Even more so after she disappeared. I brace for the resentment I’m used to feeling toward my brother, but it doesn’t surface. He had every right to be concerned about Aislin’s disappearance.

  Before I can refresh his memory, his eyes widen, and recognition dawns on his face. “Wasn’t she your girlfriend back in high school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn. It’s been years since I’ve seen her. She just up and left one day, right?”

  “Yes.” I don’t tell him it was my fault she left. He’ll ask questions I don’t want to answer. “But apparently, she’s back now.”

  “Shit. I didn’t know she was interested in criminal justice.” He grins. “That’s kinda badass.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course you would think that.”

  His smirk fades. “You going to be okay working with her? I know things didn’t end well between you two. You were pretty torn up about it after she left.”

  I guess he was more perceptive than I gave him credit for back then.

  “I’ll be fine,” I grunt. “So long as she does her job.”

  “I’m sure Captain wouldn’t have put her on the case if he didn’t think she was right for the job.” He pauses. “Has she found anything?”

  I rake my hand over the back of my head. “Not yet.”

  “Dammit,” he mutters darkly.

  “Listen, I need to get off here,” I tell him, sitting up. “I’ve got to get up early. I was thinking, though, after we finish this job, I might take a trip down for a few days.”

  That wipes the serious expression off his face. “The kids and Mom and Dad would love that. When are you thinking?”

  “Not sure. I’ll have to let you know, but it should be within a couple of weeks.”

  “Might do you some good to get away. Maybe it’ll throw whoever’s fucking with you off, and they’ll get bored waiting and give up.”

  “Maybe.”

  Niko leans toward the camera, his face getting closer as he rests his elbows on his knees. He lowers his voice. “Keep a watch out, though. Just because you haven’t heard from him doesn’t mean he’s not around.”

  Frustration has my molars grinding together, and I grit out, “Yeah.”

  “Keep me updated on when you want to come down. We’ll plan a barbecue on the beach.”

  “Will do.”

  Niko and I say goodbye, and I close my laptop, setting it on the bed beside me. Getting up, I leave the bedroom and go to the kitchen. I haven’t eaten since this morning. I spent the afternoon tending to my elderly neighbor’s lawn. Too tired to cook, I pull out the fixings for a club sandwich and drop them on the counter. My attention snags on the two business cards sitting beneath my kitchen window—one from the woman missing her dog and the other from Dani. It’s turning into a pile of women I want zero contact with.

  I’m just pulling a bread knife out of the knife block when someone knocks on my front door. I set the knife down beside the loaf of bread. It’s not common for someone to stop by without calling first, so I’m leery as I check the peephole. My tense muscles relax, irritation taking its place when I see the person on the other side. I can’t see her face because her head’s tipped down, but I’d recognize that mop of bottled-blond hair anywhere.

  Fucking Juliet.

  After disarming the alarm, I jerk the door open, ready to tell her once and for all that I’ll never be interested in her, but stop short when I see the scared look on her face when she looks up at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I demand.

  She doesn’t answer right away, just rushes past me into the house. I turn and watch as she spins toward me, her trembling hands twisting together in front of her.

  “I think someone broke into my house,” she whispers hoarsely.

  As irritated as I am with the woman, my protective instincts kick in at her frightened appearance. It’s plain to see she’s terrified.

  I close and lock the door, then press the code to my alarm. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I heard glass breaking at my back door.”

  “Why in the hell didn’t you call the police?” I ask, moving farther into the room.

  Her bottom lip trembles. “I left my phone upstairs. I didn’t want to go get it. I was worried whoever it was would catch me, so I just left. This was the first house I thought of coming to.”

  The possibility that the person who broke into her house could be the same person who broke into mine comes to mind. The sooner I call the police, the sooner they’ll get here and hopefully catch the person. I debate calling Dani directly but figure the police department would be faster.

  “Let me grab my phone. It’s in the kitchen.”

  I feel Juliet following me as I walk down the hallway. Spotting my phone on the counter by the bread knife, I snatch it up and turn it on. I press down on the nine.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Juliet says from behind me.

  Twisting my head to the side, I find Juliet standing several feet away, her face no longer scrunched in fear. Instead, her jaw is set into a hard line, and her eyes blaze with something that gives me the creeps.

  Resting casually in her hand, down by her thigh, is a small handgun.

  “What in the hell is this, Juliet?” I ask, my finger hovering over the one on my phone.

  She grins, and there’s no other way to describe the look than pure evil. “Juliet,” she draws the name out. “Such an innocent and sweet name, don’t you think?” Her eyes light with excitement. “Of course, that’s not really my name. You can call me Bolt.” She pauses. “You may have heard of me.”

  The words haven’t fully left her mouth before I realize who she is. The fucking lightning bolt on the side of my truck and then again scratched over my face on the picture.

  Slowly, I lower the hand holding my phone to my side, pressing down on the one as I do so. Her eyes follow my movement before flickering back up to me.

  She tilts her head to the side. “You think I’m stupid?” she asks curiously. “How about you put that phone down on the counter.”

  The muscles in my jaw ache from clenching my teeth so hard. Seeing her finger caress the trigger of her gun has me shifting closer to the bar to put my phone down on top of it. My eyes briefly land on the knife I set there earlier.

  “It was you who scratched my truck and broke into my house,” I state needlessly. “Why?”

  She takes a couple of steps closer. “Let’s not forget about your lovely package,” she comments with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  Moving as slowly as I can, I take a small step back. If I can just get close enough to the knife, maybe I can take this bitch down before she has a chance to raise her gun and fire.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Her grin is back, and it freaks me the fuck out with how crazy it makes her look.

  “Would you believe me if I said I was bored?” She pauses, her eyes running down me. “And you looked like a delicious challenge.”

  “What do you want?”

  “All in good time,” she croons.

  I take another small step back. She notices, and the side of her mouth crooks up into a smirk.

  “That knife you’re eyeing won’t save you.”

  I’m surprised she doesn’t knock the weapon away from where I’m standing when she steps up to the counter. She just looks at it for a moment before bringing her eyes back to me. She shocks me further when she sets her gun down and hops up on one of the stools.

  “Even if you did manage to get it before I shot you, you probably want to see what I have first.”

  My hands ball into fists at my sides. I’ve never been tempted to hit a woman before, but my hands are begging to hit the one sitting in front of me now.

  I take a calming breath even though calm is the last thing I feel. Something tells me this woman is smart, and I need to be smarter and quicker than she is to ge
t out of this mess.

  “What do you want?” I repeat my earlier question.

  “For now, you and I are going to take a little ride. After that is when the fun begins.”

  “Why in the hell would I go anywhere with you?”

  I stiffen when she reaches in her jacket pocket, then relax when she pulls out an iPad. She sets it down on the counter and presses a button until a picture appears across the screen. The picture is too dark, and I’m too far away to really see it.

  “Because if you don’t”—she turns the iPad around and pushes it across the counter—“this pretty little thing will pay the price.”

  Taking my eyes off Juliet or Bolt, or whatever the fuck her name is, I look down at the screen. It takes me a moment to recognize what I’m looking at. The second I do, my blood runs cold, and sweat appears on my forehead. What I thought was a still image is actually a video. The camera is set up outside a window looking in. The footage has a green hue to it, indicating night vision. Dead center is a crosshair. It’s the woman lying in bed that has my heart pounding erratically in my chest.

  I jerk my eyes up to Bolt. “What in the fuck is this?” I growl.

  She smiles what looks like a deceptively sweet and innocent smile, but it only fuels my rage. “It’s my insurance that you’ll do what I want. If not”—she shrugs, sliding the device back to her—"Dani’s reunion back home will be short-lived. If the sniper doesn’t hear from me in”—she looks at her watch—“five minutes, his order is to shoot.” She’s quiet for a moment. “What’s it going to be? You or her?”

  “How do I know this is live? What’s to say you didn’t prerecord this?”

  “I knew you were a smart man.” She giggles like a schoolgirl, and shivers race down my spine.

  She pulls out a cell phone from her back pocket and types out a message, then turns it around so I can see it.

  Zoom in on the cunt.

  The words have my blood turning to lava, but I hold my anger in. I look over at the iPad, and within a second, the camera zooms in on Dani’s face. She looks so peaceful as she sleeps, unaware of the danger lurking right outside her window.

 

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