I stood, draining my rum. “I need another drink.”
At the bar, Pedro intercepted me with a wave. “I hope my products met your requirements.”
I nodded. “They did.”
“It’s a shame you won’t be staying longer.” He paused. “However I understand. The island is getting to be a dangerous place to visit.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, the cops fished a body out of the water yesterday. Tourist. His neck was snapped like a twig.”
“Accidents happen.” My face was cold. “People should learn to be more careful.”
“The police don’t believe it was an accident. Seems that this man was wanted for murder in New York.” Pedro smiled. “Isn’t that where you’re from?”
“Me and eight million other people.”
He grinned again. “I hope this doesn’t make things difficult for you and your friends.”
“What will it take to make sure it won’t?” As much as I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp, a payoff would be a wiser choice.
“A hundred G’s should ensure that.”
Bastard. We didn’t have that kind of cash. “Give me an hour.”
“Take all the time you need.” Pedro gestured around the room to five armed men. “My associates will make sure your friends stay safe while you collect the cash.” He gave a small laugh and gestured to Frankie. “But you might not want to dally, looks like my friends have taken a liking to your woman.”
“Don’t.” I moved closer to him. “Touch her and I’ll make sure the last thing you see before you die is your heart beating in my hands.”
“One hour. You have my word, nothing will happen for one hour. Don’t be late.” His word. What a joke. Pedro wouldn’t let us leave alive, money or no. A bullet to the back of the head was more his style. Instead of answering, I moved to the door. On my way out, I caught Drew’s eye, nodding once.
Plan B.
Chapter 36
What we had left of our money was stashed in the bungalow’s safe. I rounded the corner closest to our bungalow and noticed a faint glow from underneath the door. Shit, I had company. Pulling the Desert Eagle, I slipped off the safety without making a sound. I slid the door open, keeping the gun low. As I entered I scanned the room for possible threats. When I saw a pair of long, tan legs, I let out a relived breath and holstered my gun. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Clair uncurled from the couch, looking as blonde and beautiful as always. “We’ve got a small problem.”
Shit, if she’d flown thousands of miles to tell me about it, it wasn’t a little one. “What happened?”
“I came to warn you. Burgess is pressing for an indictment for the DeMarco murder. He’s looking pretty hard for you.”
Fuck. “How’d you find out?”
“He came to Colin’s,” she said. “Colin wanted to warn you, but didn’t think calling was the best approach. Phone taps and all. On the other hand, he didn’t want you coming home without knowing what was up.”
“I wouldn’t put bugging Colin’s phones past Burgess. That guy has some serious issues. So why are you here?”
“Colin wanted to come, but Zoë’s in a bad way.” Her voice broke. “The doctors don’t think she’s going to make it.”
Her words hit me like a physical punch to the gut, and I sunk into the nearest chair. “I didn’t know.” Zoë had leukemia, she been battling it for years. I thought she had it beaten, but I was wrong.
“She doesn’t want anyone to know. Not yet.”
“Jesus...” I shook my head. Poor Colin. First him mom dies of breast cancer, and now the love of his life is riddled with the same fucked up disease. “Okay, let me think…Why now? What evidence does Burgess have that he didn’t last week?”
“I don’t know. He mentioned a tip…”
Somebody was setting me up for Nick’s murder, probably the same guy who’d called Carlos at the bank yesterday. “Thanks for coming all this way. It’s above and beyond the call.” I smiled at her. Whatever happened between us in the past was just that, the past. She’d deserved redemption.
“I care about you.” She put her hand on my knee. “I know that sounds stupid.”
“No, I care about you too.” We sat together for a few seconds, neither willing to break the contact. Finally I stood, walking to the safe. A plan began to form inside my head. “I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
I explained my plan and she smiled. “You really don’t think that will work, do you?”
******
Forty-five minutes later, I strode into Pedro’s with all the cash we had left—seven thousand dollars in small bills. I tossed it on the bar. “That’s all we’ve got, take it, or leave it.”
He looked grim, his frown cutting deeply into the creased skin of his face. “We have a problem then.” He gave a nod, and his gunmen pointed their weapon the crew. They, in turn froze, raising their hands. Frankie’s eyes flew to mine. One of the desperados grabbed her by the hair, placing a pistol against her head. My eyes snapped to hers, fearing the look of terror in them would be my undoing. Surprisingly, her gaze was filled with rage, not fear. They blazed with an intensity I hadn’t seen outside the bedroom.
“You will have a big problem if you don’t take it and walk away.” I palmed the Desert Eagle.
He stepped toward me. “You don’t make the rules.” His fist shot out, snapping me in the face and opening a cut just below my right eye. “I do. This is my island. You want to play here, you have to pay.”
“We have.” I slowly wiped the blood from my face with the back of my gun hand. “Take the cash and I won’t kill you.”
Pedro laughed, a high, weasel like sound.
With perfect timing Clair burst through the bar door. “This doesn’t look like the Rivera.”
Pedro’s eye flew to hers and I made my move, grabbing him around the throat. I dug the Desert Eagle into his spine, pressing it deeper and harder than needed. A small bit of satisfaction. I could smell the fear radiating from him, all talk and no play.
“Time’s up. What’s it gonna be?” I whispered in his ear.
Drew spun around and smashed a beer bottle into the nearest thug’s head. Glass shattered and the goon dropped to his knees, white beer foam covering his face. At the same time, Mickey threw a roundhouse kick at a second gunmen’s chest. He flew against the wall. The cheap plaster cracked, leaving a body-sized hole in the wall.
“Drop your guns,” I yelled at the three remaining men. When they took too long to comply, I pushed the gun further into Pedro’s spine. “Call them off if you want to continue walking upright.”
“Put’em down,” his voice shook as he gave the order.
Two of the three complied, but the one who held Frankie grinned. “Why don’t you drop it?” To emphasize his point, he twisted the barrel against her head. It had to hurt, but she didn’t make a sound.
No way was this asshole going to live. I gave a brutal laugh. “What makes you think I care?”
“Oh, you care all right.” The arm around Frankie’s neck tightened, and her face paled. “It’s hard to replace a fine piece like this.” He leaned into her, nibbling at her neck with decaying teeth. She gagged in response. My fist clenched on the gun. The gunman laughed. “Maybe, I’ll just let you kill him and keep her for myself.” He started for the door, dragging Frankie in front of him.
I couldn’t get a clean shot so I bid my time. No way was this guy going to leave here upright. My moment of opportunity came a second later when he reached for the door, loosening his grip around Frankie’s neck. Using his momentary distraction, Frankie slammed her foot into his knee, and twisted away from him. He raised the gun in his hand, and time slowed.
Frankie’s eyes met mine for a brief second as he fired.
I fired a split second late. Our gunshots roared through the room, loud and deadly. Frankie’s eyes went wide, and she fell to the floor.
&nbs
p; Chapter 37
My heart stopped as terror set in. I tossed Pedro to the ground and ran for her. Frankie lay face down on the concrete, still as death. Mickey reached her a step before me and crouched down, running his hands over her back. “Frankie…”
“Fuck,” came a muffled reply, and my heart started again.
“Lie still. Where are you hurt?” Mickey’s voice shook.
“Where’d you get hit?” I asked at the same time, searching for the telltale-bleeding wound, but saw none.
She sat up, pushing Mickey’s prying hands away. “Neil’s going to kill me. I broke a fucking nail.” She held up her hand to inspect the chip.
“I’m going to kill her.” Relief rushed through me. By some miracle, she was all right. I searched the wall behind us. The bullet had gone wide, leaving a good-sized hole in the bar a few feet away. Of course, the one I shot hadn’t missed, not even a little. The gunman lay dead, blood and brain matter splattered the door, walls and floor. A Desert Eagle didn’t fuck around.
Andy held the other thugs at gunpoint. The thugs raised their hands in surrender, eyes wide. Drew stood over Pedro, kicking him once in the head. “Bastard.” He kicked him again. Pedro curled into a ball, throwing his arms over his head for protection, whimpering like a pup. Mickey helped Frankie from the floor. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the cops come.”
I glanced at the door and the dead man. “Take Frankie, Clair, and Neil. Go straight to the airport. Forget everything at the hotel. Get on the first plane out.”
He nodded once. “What about you?”
“I’ll take care of things here. Just get them home safe.”
“I want to stay with you,” Frankie started to argue.
“Go. Now.”
She looked deep into my cold eyes and nodded. “Be careful.” Her face was tight with tension and worry, lines I’d put there. “Ian, I mean it. Watch your back.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just go.”
******
Andy, Drew, and I missed the next plane out, too busy cleaning up the mess left at Pedro’s. I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say, Pedro learned a valuable lesson about fucking with tourists. Lucky for us, the cops never came and we got out unscathed. Before heading for the airport, we stopped at the hotel and did our best to remove any evidence of our existence. Thanks to a kind donation from Pedro, the hotel staff quickly forgot our names.
At the airport, we slept in hard plastic chairs until they called our flight at six in the morning. I handed my passport to the ticket agent, and she laughed. A bad sign.
“Dan E. Boi?” She shook the ID at me.
Fucking Mickey. “Umm, yeah. Family name.”
She rolled her eyes, stamped my passport, and motioned to the tarmac. “Hope you enjoyed your stay.”
Compared to the night before the flight was relatively uneventful. Andy typed away on his computer in the next seat over. Drew thumbed through a magazine left by a passing tourist, or maybe he stole it, with Drew you never could tell. He gestured to a picture of a blonde model draped across a Mercedes. “What are you gonna do with all that money?”
“I haven’t thought about it.” I rubbed my eyes, gritty from lack of sleep. “I honestly never thought we’d pull it off. I figured we’d be in jail about now. What about you?”
“I think I’m gonna retire. Move away from the city, maybe buy a farm somewhere.” Drew set the magazine down and poured his fifth miniature bottle of Jack Daniels.
“Sure.” I laughed, not buying it for a second. Drew was New York. He thrived on the excitement, on the grit. I couldn’t see him living in some small town tending cows.
He grinned. “Okay, maybe not. But I tell you what; I’m done living like this. Nobody is gonna tell me what to do from now on.”
“You got troubles?”
“Fuck,” he shrugged, “you know how it is. I owe everybody. Hell, I even owe Billy. Been working off that debt for a year now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have loaned you the cash.”
Drew grinned. “You don’t have the kind of money I’m talking about. Hell, two million ain’t gonna get me clear. But it’s a start.”
“Jesus Drew. What are you into?”
“I had a string of bad luck. Trusted the wrong guy. I wanted more and for a while, I was at the top of my game. Then the bottom fell out...”
“Man, I’m sorry…” What more could I say?
“Hey, no worries. By Friday I’ll be rich and this shit will be a fading memory. Speaking of fantasies, does Frankie live up to yours?”
My head turned so quick, I felt a vertebrate pop. “What?”
“Do you think we’re stupid? It doesn’t take two hours to find an earring.”
“Does Mickey know?”
Drew grinned. “I think he’s in denial where Frankie’s concerned. Not unlike yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You both think she’s this pure, sweet, and innocent little sister. But I tell ya, she can be a stone cold bitch. But hey, I’d risk it too. What’s the worst thing that can happen? You catch two in the back of the head like Nick?” He shrugged. “Not a bad way to go.”
“You’re so full of it.”
Drew laughed. “Seriously though, sleep with one eye open because there’s more to her than meets the eye.”
Chapter 38
It was late when I finally made my way home to O’Malley’s. Since our plane landed at a little after noon I’d spent the rest of the day gathering intel. Someone was looking to hook me up for Nick’s murder and it was time to find out who. My first stop was Colin’s. “Ian?” Colin opened the door looking every bit not like the rock star he was. He wore torn jeans and a black t-shirt that had faded to murky gray. “What the hell are you doing here?” He pulled me into the apartment, glancing quickly up and down the hallway. “Burgess has this place staked out.”
“I know. I saw two uniforms in a car outside.” I moved to the window. “They didn’t see me. Don’t worry.”
He frowned. “Famous last words.”
“How’s Zoë?”
Colin’s face fell and he sat on the couch with a sigh. “You talked to Clair.” At my nod, he continued, “Some days are better than others.” His fist hit the coffee table. “I hate this. She’s suffering and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. It’s like my mom all over again.”
My aunt Irene died when Colin was eighteen. Many a nights, I sat next to her hospital bed with Colin playing poker for matchsticks and listening to the steady rhythm of the respirator. At one point she was in so much pain I considered ending it. Taking the hospital pillow and smothering her until the look of pain left her face. I couldn’t do it though, and she had lived for six more days. Six days that morphine couldn’t ease. If I had one regret in life, it was those six days.
“She’s not your mom.” I sat in a chair across from him, taking in his haunted eyes. “Zoë will beat this. She will fight and beat it. Look how she wore you down.”
Colin nodded, looking a little stronger. “Thanks. Today’s just been a hard one. So how was Grand Cayman? How’d Frankie do?”
“I can’t believe you let Zoë do that to me.”
“I had nothing to do with it. I came home and Clair was here, Frankie wasn’t. Zoë filled me in. That doesn’t mean I don’t think it hilarious.”
“Funny.” I shrugged. “It worked out, so I’m not too pissed. By the way, thanks for sending Clair to warn me.”
“Wasn’t my idea. She wanted to go.” Colin stopped. “I think she has a thing for you.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not like that.”
It was his turn to shrug. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not your type.”
“What do you mean? She’s exactly my type. Hell, if she hadn’t fucked me over once before, I’d follow her around like a puppy.”
Colin laughed. “No, no you wouldn’t. Smart assed redheads are more your speed.”
“Fuck yo
u.” I took a breath. “What is it with everyone? Can’t you see I’m not right for Frankie?”
“Why?” Colin appeared honestly perplexed. “You’re not Billy, you know. Just because he was a lousy husband and father, doesn’t mean you will be.”
“That’s exactly what it means.” I stood to pace the room. “Yesterday I saw Frankie with the same look my mom always wore. The one that wondered if she’d ever see Billy alive again. I put that look on Frankie’s face. Me.”
“So settle down. Get a real job. It’s not too late.”
“It is too late. What else do I know? I’m not talented like you. I got one thing going for me—brutality. I’m a thug. That’s it.”
Colin stood and thumped me in the chest, hard. “God, you make me mad. Fine, have it your way. Frankie’s too good for someone as stupid as you are. She’d be better off with some stockbroker on Long Island.”
“Hey.” I pushed him back. “Fuck you.”
Colin grinned. “Admit it. You want her.” He hit me again, and I seriously considered punching the grin off his face.
“Fine, but that doesn’t mean I’m what’s best for her.”
“Why don’t you let her decide?”
Good question.
******
“What’s shaking, Joey-Dean?” I grinned at the kid, noticing he’d lost yet another tooth. Soon he’d look like the toothless crackhead sleeping a few doorways up. He perched on the stoop next to the bar, his thin legs pale in the moonlight. It was a little after midnight, much too late for a ten year old to be roaming the streets, but who was I to judge. Joey-Dean’s mom did the best she could. She worked three jobs to support seven kids. Joey-Dean’s father had left the family when Joey was two and his mom went to work. It was the way of life in the Kitchen. You did what you had to survive.
Joey-Dean motioned to the window. “The new glass came today. I saw your dad putting it in.”
I shook my head at the window, with no cracks or chips, it just didn’t feel the same. “Have you seen Frankie?”
He smiled. “She looks real pretty with blonde hair, but I miss the red.”
SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series) Page 13