by S W Vaughn
Just as he finished speaking, something warm and soft pressed against his lips.
It was Kat.
Before he could register the fact that she was kissing him, she drew back and eased down. She’d been standing on her toes to reach him. “My hero,” she whispered.
Ozzy was too stunned to respond.
“I guess there’s nothing to do but go back to work,” she said, resting a hand on his arm. “You up for it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said hoarsely.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
He opened the door for her, and followed her inside. The club was the calmest he’d seen it yet, with maybe fifty to sixty people scattered through the main areas. “Doesn’t look like there’s much to do in here,” he said.
Kat smiled. “It’s Sunday night. People have to work in the morning.”
“There you are.”
The condescending tone in that voice offended Ozzy before he even got a look at the speaker—a man in his fifties with a solid build, carefully cultivated tan, and expensive three-piece suit. His eyes were cold blue flecks.
And Ozzy had seen him before. Not here…but in the life he used to have. He just couldn’t remember where.
“Here I am.” Kat’s smile took on a brittle edge. “I do apologize for the interruption.”
“You should.”
Kat must’ve sensed Ozzy’s compulsion to break the man’s nose, because she stopped him with a touch. “I have a business to run, Mr. Corvair,” she said. “That always comes first. Understand?”
So this was the new guy Blade mentioned. Ozzy already shared his dislike.
The man relented a little. “Of course,” he said. “But if you’re finished now…”
“We’ll be on our way in just a shake.” She smiled again and stepped away. “I think an introduction is in order first. David Corvair, this is Ozzy Stone. He’s my head of security.”
Ozzy blinked. Being head of security was news to him, but he decided not to ask about it right now. He had other things to worry about—like the way Corvair’s eyes glittered and narrowed when the man heard his name.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stone.” Corvair held out a hand, vanishing any sign of recognition he’d shown.
“Likewise.” Ozzy shook hands with a neutral expression.
“All right,” Kat said. “We’d all better get back to work. Ozzy, if you could check on our situation in about an hour? Room ten.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry. They’ll be expecting you—and I’ll be expecting a report.” She winked, and turned back to Corvair. “Now. Where were we, darlin’?”
The man’s leer as he led Kat away renewed Ozzy’s desire to erase it with a fist.
He shook himself and fitted his earpiece into place. He did have a job to do, and it would be better to focus on that instead of imagining what that smug bastard was doing to Kat, or how Blade was faring. But he kept Corvair’s face in the back of his mind.
Something told him it was important to remember where he’d seen the man before, and in what context. Because Corvair had definitely recognized him—and was none too pleased about seeing him.
For Ozzy, the feeling was mutual.
Chapter 24
Roman felt a little ridiculous lying on the bed in Antonio’s fantasy doctor’s office. He usually went for more of a bare room thing himself, but a lot of women—and more than a few men—liked playing naughty nurse or petulant patient with Doctor Antonio, so this was his main stage. He also kept actual medical equipment and supplies in here to handle guests or employees who got a little too enthusiastic.
At least the man hadn’t made him wear one of those stupid paper gowns.
Antonio had already stripped him, poked and prodded him, and given him painkillers. Something a lot stronger than Motrin. Now he was half-dressed and waiting for the man to come back from the bar with ice packs for his ribs—bruised, not broken. Detective Frank was apparently good at inflicting maximum pain without permanent damage. Must’ve been why he was still on the force.
It was kind of funny. Frank Stone was exactly the man he’d always thought Ozzy was. A brute, a bully, a thug. And Stone was…not any of those things. Hardheaded. Over-the-top macho. But a real good guy, under all those defenses.
So basically the opposite of himself.
Roman climbed gingerly off the bed and started pacing. He thought better that way, even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt. Now that he was clear of the cops and his mind wasn’t occupied with finding a fast door to death, he’d latched onto a problem he needed to solve.
Who killed Shep…and why?
Shep had plenty of enemies. It could’ve been a coincidence, but Roman didn’t believe in those. This sure as hell felt like a setup, right down to the “anonymous tip” that brought the detectives to his door. But who’d go to the trouble of setting him up?
“Do I have to get the restraints out?”
Antonio’s voice derailed his thought train, and he flashed a quick smile. “Well, if you really want to,” he said. “Let’s not take my temperature, though.”
“I told you to lie down.” Antonio closed the door and gave him The Look.
“Hey, I’m flat. Just vertical instead of horizontal.”
“Roman.”
He sighed and went back to the bed. “Okay. Lying down.”
Antonio took his time coming over, which meant he was pissed off and controlling it. “You know how I feel about you pushing yourself,” he said when he reached the bed. “This is beyond pushing. You can’t treat this like a hard session, or some kind of field test.” He waved a hand clutching an ice pack at the patchwork of bruises covering Roman’s torso. “There was no control in this,” he said. “You’re seriously injured. And you’ve got to take it easy, or you’ll never heal right.”
“All right.” He let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” Antonio smiled briefly and lifted his other hand. He had two packs in that one. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “This is not going to feel good.”
“I figured as much.”
Roman closed his eyes and waited until the initial flashes of pain subsided. At least the freezing cold would be numb soon. He stared at the ceiling a minute, and then turned to see Antonio watching him with a guarded expression. “What?”
“Nothing. Just…don’t take those off until I tell you. Or I really will get the restraints.”
“That’s not what you were going to say.”
“No. But it’s what I said. And all I’m saying.”
“Antonio…”
“Don’t.”
Roman looked back at the ceiling. It was easier than seeing the pain on his friend’s face—because that was all they ever could be. And Antonio hated when he apologized for that. “I know I need to rest,” he said. “I’m going to, as much as I can. But I can’t just lay here all night.”
“Do you have some pressing appointment?”
“I need to talk to Stone, for one thing.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Antonio said. “He’ll be down here pretty soon to check on you. Kat’s orders.”
“Oh, good. Tell him to bring the control room with him. And my home workstation.”
“You do know Mike can handle the monitoring.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But I don’t think she can find out who killed Shep.”
“What?” Antonio spoke in a horrified whisper. “Shep is…”
“Dead. Murdered, apparently. That’s why the cops picked me up.” Roman winced and almost took the ice packs off, before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to. “I’m pretty sure someone tried to frame me for it.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve got to find out.”
Antonio started to say something, but a knock at the door cut him off. His brow furrowed. “That’s unusual.”
“Stone.” Roman smiled crookedly. “Remember what happened last ti
me he walked into a room down here?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll just…let him in, then.”
“Good idea.”
He waited and heard the door open, then Antonio and Stone exchanged a few brief words. A moment later, Stone loomed over him. The man looked more furious than he’d ever seen him.
“What did I do now?”
“I should’ve killed him,” Stone growled.
“Oh. That.” Roman was oddly touched. No one had ever wanted to murder someone on his behalf before. “Looks worse than it is,” he said. “So let’s keep our revenge on the right side of the law, shall we?”
Stone’s face said he wasn’t too pleased with that idea.
“All right. Quit staring at me.” He managed a small smile and spotted Antonio hovering at the foot of the bed. “Can I get up now, Doc?”
“I suppose I can’t stop you.”
He moved the ice packs and sat up slowly. “I feel better,” he said. “Really. And I promise I’ll take it easy.”
“You’d better.”
Stone stepped back as Roman shifted his way off the bed. When he was standing, Antonio handed his shirt to him without asking. “Thank you,” he said, trying to convey how sorry he was with his tone. He wasn’t sure it worked. With Antonio, it was hard to tell.
Once he was dressed, Stone said, “Kat’s waiting for a report. What should I tell her?”
“Is Corvair still here?”
“No. He left a few minutes ago.”
Whoa. Plenty of anger there, too—Stone must’ve met the new guy earlier and not liked him much. Roman couldn’t disagree with the sentiment, but he knew Kat could handle anyone. “In that case, I’ll report to her myself,” he said. “I need to get upstairs anyway.”
Stone nodded and tapped his earpiece. “We’re coming up,” he said into it.
“Hey, you’re getting good at this. Let’s go.”
As Stone headed for the door, Roman turned to Antonio. “Thanks again,” he said. “Will you be here tomorrow for the meeting?”
“Of course.”
“See you then.”
“Roman…” Antonio’s voice shook slightly. “Please be careful.”
He took the man’s hand and squeezed once. “I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
Roman turned away and headed across the room—before he could fall apart.
Chapter 25
As he watched Blade make his way painfully up the stairs, clinging to the railing the whole way, Ozzy had to agree with Antonio. The man should not be up and around. But apparently he wasn’t going to stop until he collapsed.
They reached the top, and Blade paused to catch his breath. “Jesus Christ, why don’t we have an elevator?” he panted. “I think I’ll stay out of the basement for a few days.”
“Good plan,” Ozzy said. “Can you make it to the office?”
“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” Blade leaned against the wall, away from the doors. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Do you?”
“That I should listen to Antonio and stay off my feet.” He grinned over heaving breaths. “Believe me, I would if I could. Here’s the thing, though. Remember Shep?”
“He’s dead.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t kill him. But someone did—and they set me up for it.”
The words settled like lead in Ozzy’s gut. He hadn’t even thought about why his brother might’ve targeted Blade, beyond the fact that he had a record. He’d been too busy remembering how much he hated Frank. “Are you sure?”
“Almost positive. Those two assholes said they got an anonymous tip about a disturbance, for about the time Shep showed up shooting his mouth off. Whoever that was wanted me picked up and…out of the way?” he finished softly. “For what, though?”
Ozzy frowned. “How are you going to find out who called it in?”
“I don’t know yet.” Blade stared at him. “Was it you?”
“No!”
“Well, that’s one down.” He smiled and pushed away from the wall. “Better go talk to Kat, before she kills us both,” he said.
Ozzy stayed behind him as they headed across the club, in case he went down. Blade seemed to move better on flat ground. Still, he was covered in sweat by the time they reached the hallway behind the bar. “You’re going to be pissing blood tonight,” Ozzy told him. “Fair warning.”
“Seriously?”
“Trust me.” He’d lost count of the number of times as a kid he’d hidden the evidence from his parents. The few times he’d told them what happened, it only made Frank hurt him worse. So he learned to keep it to himself.
Blade shook his head. “Won’t that be fun,” he said.
“A blast.” Ozzy opened the door to Kat’s office. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
He gave Blade a few minutes alone with her before going in himself. The two of them were obviously close, and he figured his presence would only make it awkward. When he did step inside to find Blade standing next to Kat, who was drying her eyes with a tissue, he decided he’d been right.
“Ozzy. Thanks again for bringing Roman back to us.” Kat smiled and pulled herself together in a snap, becoming instantly professional. He’d never seen anyone with so much control—not even in the military. “He was just telling me about Shep,” she said. “I can’t say I’ll mourn his passing, but I don’t like the circumstances. Got any thoughts?”
“Besides good riddance?”
She gave a musical laugh. “Yes. Besides that.”
“Well.” He glanced at Blade, who looked lost in his own thoughts. “If someone wanted to frame him, they probably started before the anonymous tip. Happening to catch him and Shep having an argument, just so they could report it, is too convenient.”
That got Blade’s attention. “Christ, why didn’t I think of that?” he said. “Whoever did this must’ve told him about—”
The forceful way he cut himself off said he hadn’t mentioned their shared past to Kat, either. Ozzy decided they might as well come clean. He had a feeling she’d find out sooner or later, whether they told her or not. “Shep found out that we—”
“Don’t.” Blade shot him an urgent look, and let out a sigh. “You’d better let me explain this one,” he said.
“All right.”
He turned toward Kat with an uncomfortable expression. “I told you what happened… just before I got out,” he said.
“You did,” she said slowly.
“And I told you my cellmate arranged the whole thing.”
Her eyes flashed fire. “Yes.”
“Well, I was wrong about that.” He looked to Ozzy, and said, “Very wrong. My cellmate stood up for me, and they shoved him in solitary for it. That’s why he wasn’t there. And now…I owe him my life.”
Kat turned wide eyes to him. “You?” she whispered. “You and Roman…”
Ozzy nodded. “But it was my fault,” he said. “If I hadn’t—”
“It was not your fault.” Blade’s jaw twitched. “Look, I know you’ve got broad shoulders and all. But that doesn’t mean you have to take responsibility for everything that goes wrong around you—and I don’t just mean me,” he said. “Besides, even if you want to pretend it was your fault those thugs targeted me, don’t you think tonight made up for it?”
“My brother beating the shit out of you doesn’t make up for it.”
“I swear to God, if you don’t stop—”
“Boys, please.” Kat stood and looked calmly from Ozzy to Blade. “It sounds like y’all owe each other, and that’s fine. You’ll work it out in time. But right now, maybe we should get back to Shep?”
“Yes,” Ozzy said. Beating himself up seemed to be his favorite pastime lately, and he was glad for the excuse to stop a while. It only made him want to drink. “So Shep found out that we shared a cell. That pissed him off, and he went to confront Blade.”
“Someone had to tell him that,” Blade s
aid. “Someone with access to federal records, or police records.”
Ozzy frowned. “Frank?”
“No. He didn’t even know you were in town, right?”
“Right,” he said. “This is getting us nowhere.”
“Not exactly. It’s narrowing the field.”
The phone on Kat’s desk rang, and she gave it a dirty look. “I suppose I should get that,” she said. “Give me just a minute, boys.” She picked up the receiver and said, “Kat’s, you got me.”
Both Ozzy and Blade stepped away to give her space.
“Officer Leonard,” she said warmly. “We haven’t seen you down here in ages. What can I do for you?” She paused, and her expression hardened. “Why do you want Roman?”
Blade went pale, and Ozzy felt the rage building. If Frank was still trying to take the easy way out, he really would hurt his brother. Extensively.
“What kind of accident?” Kat said hoarsely. Her hand flew to her throat. “No,” she whispered. “Oh, no…”
“What?” Blade coughed out. “What happened?”
“Just a second.” Kat held the receiver out with a trembling hand. “Your house,” she said. “Roman, your house is on fire.”
Chapter 26
Roman stared at the phone, unable to process what she’d just said. “My house?”
“You’ve got to talk to him, hon. He’s a friend.” Kat came around the desk and pressed the receiver into his hand. A tear tracked down her cheek. “Come on, darlin’,” she said. “We’ll get through this.”
“My house,” he repeated. The phone felt hot and heavy in his grip. He managed to lift it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Roman Blade?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t sure the word was audible. His throat had constricted to a pinhole, and he’d just about stopped breathing. Your house is on fire. How could that be?
“Mr. Blade, this is Officer Jack Leonard with the Warren County sheriff’s department. Is your residence five-seven-eight-zero Black Branch Road?”