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SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series)

Page 16

by kazimer, j. a.


  “Fuck. What happened?” I yelled into the two-way receiver taped to my chest. “Talk to me Drew.” I heard the crackle of static and nothing else. Shit. I ran for the main doors. A crowd gathered around the entrance. I pushed my way through until I saw Mickey. He crouched on the ground, face white. “What happened?” I growled, seeing Drew lying on the concrete, blood dripping from his arm.

  “Fucker shot me,” he answered.

  “Sal?”

  “No. The other one—the one who killed Nick. I got a good look at him though.” Drew tried to stand, blood staining the expensive leather of his jacket. “We have to get out of here before the cops come.”

  “We need to get you to the hospital.” Mickey helped him stand.

  Drew weaved like a drunken teenager, but stayed upright. “No, I’m all right.”

  “Damn it, Drew. Don’t argue with us.” The scream of sirens and brakes ended the discussion. “Andy,” I called into the radio. “Meet us at the bar. We’re taking Drew to the hospital.” Mickey flagged down a passing cab and we helped Drew into the taxi. The cab driver didn’t even blink. “Where to?’

  “Bellevue. There’s a hundred in it if you can get us there in ten minutes.” I stripped off a bill and pasted it against the bulletproof shield. The taxi peeled out, throwing the three of us against the hard-coated seat.

  ******

  “I got a good look at him. I’ve seen him somewhere before.” Drew scratched his head, and stared off in a morphine haze. The bullet had struck his upper arm, missing any major arteries or bones. He’d live. No thanks to me.

  A nurse entered, looking suspiciously at the three of us. “You have to be more careful when cleaning your weapon, Detective.”

  Drew smiled at her disbelieving tone. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Arriving at the hospital, Drew had tossed a fake police badge on the counter, hoping to discourage further questions and the real cops. The nurse began probing the hole in his arm. The bleeding had slowed, now no more than a trickle.

  “Ouch.” Drew pulled from her.

  “Don’t be a baby,” she said, winding a strip of gauze around his arm. After she finished, she gave us a quick smile and left.

  Once the door closed behind her, I asked, “So what did the guy look like?”

  Drew took his time before answering. “Brown hair, medium height. He had a tattoo on his gun hand. A spider I think. I wish I could remember where I know him from…”

  Mickey slapped his hands together. “That sounds like that guy Frankie dated a year ago. You remember him, Drew…Mike something…”

  “That’s him. I knew I recognized him.” Drew pushed himself from the gurney, a grimace of pain wrinkling his features. I had no idea who he was, but at least, we were getting somewhere. My cell phone rang. At a doctor’s glare, I quickly silenced it. I checked the caller ID. Frankie. Fuck, the two-hour mark had passed.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Drew said.

  I nodded, shoving the phone back in my pocket. We left the hospital room and headed down the corridor toward the exit door. Two cops rushed in. One of them thrust a mug shot of me at an attractive nurse. “Have you seen this man?” She shook her head.

  I nodded to the passing cops, and winked at the nurse before slipping out the door. Lucky for me the NYPD didn’t require brains or glasses. Once on the street, we grabbed a cab, and I dialed Frankie’s cell while Mickey gave the cabbie directions.

  “Are you okay? The news said there was a shootout at Grand Central.” Her voice shook with the same quiver I’d heard in my mother’s tone a hundred times before.

  “Yeah, we’re fine. Drew took a bullet in the arm, but he’ll live.”

  “Thank God.” Her breath came out in a rush. “Where are you?”

  “On the way to the bar.”

  “Did you find out who’s behind Nick’s murder?”

  “Maybe.” I paused, unsure just how much to tell her over the phone. “Drew got a look at the guy.”

  “So who is he?”

  “Mickey thinks it’s some guy you dated last year…Mike something.”

  Silence.

  “Morrissey? Mike Morrissey? But it can’t be.”

  “Why? Too nice a guy?” I hated her naivety, one day it would get her seriously hurt.

  “No, it’s not that.”

  “Then what?” Jealousy crept into my voice.

  “Ian, he’s dead. According to his sister, Mike died in a car accident in Canada a couple of months back.” She paused, sucking in a long breath. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know, but right now, he’s all we’ve got.” The cab rolled to a stop in front of the bar. It looked dark and deserted, but looks could be deceiving. “Listen, we’re here. I’ll give you a call later. Stay out of sight.” I hung up without waiting for a response.

  Chapter 45

  Forty-five minutes later a cab pulled in front of O’Malley’s. Frankie jumped from it, disguised in a black overcoat, big hooker hoop earrings, and ruby red lipstick. I wasn’t surprised. I took a sip of beer and shook my head. She’d be the death of me. “What are you doing here?” Mickey asked when she stepped inside the dark room. The five of us sat around the bar, throwing back shots of whiskey and arguing about what went wrong this afternoon.

  Frankie’s eyes searched my body for injuries, finding none, her expression lightened. “I had to make sure you guys were all right.”

  “I could use some tender loving care.” Drew waggled his bandaged arm at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, and walked around the bar to pour herself a drink.

  One of Drew’s associates who’d helped earlier stepped in front of her. “Well, hello. I’m Roberto.” I studied Roberto, none too happy at the frank appraisal of Frankie in his eyes. While not a bad looking guy with straight black hair and dark eyes, he was also a drug dealing scumbag, not to mention, he was currently stripping her naked with his eyes while her brother and lover looked on.

  “I’m Frankie.” She took his outstretched hand, smiling like a schoolgirl. Did she have to encourage him?

  “So Roberto…,” I started. “How’s the drug dealing scumbag business? I’m thinking of diversifying.” Mickey laughed, and Andy shook his head.

  Frankie frowned at me. “Just ignore him.”

  I grinned. “No, really. I hear you can make a killing at it.” I hated dealers. Guys like Roberto survived off the miseries of addicts and school kids. I’d seen addiction up close, watching with helpless rage as it stole years of Colin’s life, While I blamed Colin for his weakness, I blamed the asshole willing and ready to take advantage of said weakness all the more,

  He wisely ignored me, and instead turned instead to Frankie. “So what is it you do? Act? model?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m retired as of Friday, but I used to bartend at this fine establishment.”

  Shock registered on my face. Of course she won’t work here anymore. Why stick around when she had two million to play with? But still, it didn’t sit right. I couldn’t picture a day without her. My thoughts darkened.

  “Congratulations,” he said. “Let me know if you get bored, I can arrange to put some excitement back in your life.” Roberto’s eyes raked over her body.

  I slowly rose to my feet, kicking back my chair. Robert quickly backed off. He smirked and kissed the back of her hand. “It looks like I’ve over stayed my welcome. Till we meet again.”

  I opened the door, ushering him out. “I suggest you think real hard on the meeting again part.” Roberto smiled again and walked off whistling. Bastard.

  I slammed the door and then turned to Frankie. “Did you have to encourage him?”

  She glared at me. “I didn’t encourage him. I was being friendly, not slutty. I thought for sure you’d know the difference.” Frankie yelled, “It’s you who…” Mickey, Andy, and Drew jumped to their feet. Each muttered quick goodbye in hopes of getting away before I exploded. Mickey shot me a sheepish look, one of apology or warning I wasn’t sure.
r />   The door closed behind them, and I gave a small laugh. “I thought they’d never leave.”

  “I wasn’t encouraging him.” She wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “I know.” I gave her a quick kiss. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

  “What?”

  “Later.” I brought my mouth down on hers. “Much, much later.”

  Chapter 46

  One day and we hit the proverbial lottery, becoming instant multimillionaires. I liked the sound of it. Multimillionaire. I leaned over and stroked Frankie’s bare arm as we lay on the queen-sized bed of Billy’s safe house. Frankie murmured in her sleep. I glanced around the small apartment, considered selling the bar and starting a new life. Maybe leaving for good. But where would I go? This was all I knew. My life revolved around drinking, gambling, and the occasional brawl. Didn’t I want more? Was there more? I stared down at Frankie. Sunlight touched her face, highlighting the sprinkle of freckles bridging her nose. God, she was beautiful.

  All the air in the room suddenly vanished, sucked up by some invisible source. Claustrophobia threatened. Things were moving too fast. I quickly sat up in bed, pushing myself as far from Frankie as possible. But she rolled toward me, the silken skin of her thigh pressing against me. What did she want from me? What did I want from her? “Wake up. We need to talk.” I shook her shoulder, her bones fragile under my thick hands.

  “What’s wrong?” She stretched, showing off a her backside and that damn tempting black tattoo on her upper thigh.

  I quickly adverted my eyes before I forgot what I wanted to say. “When you told Mickey you weren’t looking for marriage, was that true?”

  She leaned on her elbow. “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then yes.” Her words hit me like a punch.

  “Any reason why not?”

  “I think the world of you, you know that.” Her fingers bunched in the sheet.

  “But…”

  She turned the tables on me. “Would you marry me, Ian? Do you want to settle down and raise a family? Do you want to become your parents?”

  “Hell, no.” She flinched and I felt like an ass. I quickly added, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t see myself married with kids. It’s nothing against you…”

  “I feel the same way,” she said, stroking my arm with the pad of her thumb. “I want to be able to sail around the world, to see places I’ve never seen, without feeling guilty. I’ve felt guilty for far too long.”

  I looked into her eyes, understanding more than she could ever know. At once I hated and loved her for it. “So this thing between us. We agree it’s a fling. No talk of love, marriage, or commitment?”

  “At least not from me, but watch it or I’ll break your heart.”

  “I’ll take that gamble.”

  ******

  “Mike Morrissey,” I repeated to a bored clerk at the Social Security Administration. I held the phone in one hand, doodling on a scrap of paper with the other.

  “Spell it, please.” I did as she asked, and waited while she taped some keys. “No record, sir. Are you sure he’s deceased?”

  “That’s what I’m calling to find out.”

  “Sorry, sir. Like I said,” she paused, “we have no record of his death.”

  Fuck. I hung up the phone. It looked like Drew had been right. Mike Morrissey had it in for me, but the question now was why? I gestured to Frankie. “So tell me about this guy?”

  “He’s not dead?”

  I shook my head.

  “We met at the bar. He was nice, but quiet.” Her eyes took on a faraway look and she smiled, a slow sad smile. “It took him a week to ask me out. He acted surprised when I said yes. We went out…to a movie, I think. It was fun. Nothing serious.”

  “How long did you date?”

  “Couple of weeks, maybe.” She shrugged. “He was sweet, but not my type.”

  “What is your ‘type’?” I asked before I realized how much I didn’t want to know the answer. “Never mind.”

  The smile on her face grew wicked and then sobered. “He actually ended it. Said he got a job offer in Canada. That was it. I didn’t hear from him again.”

  “Did he mention anything about me? Or any of the crew?” I went to the refrigerator for a soda. Mark had stocked the safe house fridge with everything except a six-pack. “Want one?” I pointed to a can of Coke. She shook her head no.

  “Mike asked about you once.” She bit her lip, dragging it across her even white teeth. “It wasn’t anything deep, just him wondering about our relationship.”

  “Can you think of any reason that he’d kill Nick or want me out of the way?”

  “No. I’ve racked my brain and can’t think of a damn thing.”

  “We’ll find out when I find him.” My tone was cold.

  “I’ve got a thought.”

  “God help me.”

  “Funny.” She stuck out her tongue. “What if we used me for bait? Get Mike in the open. He has to know Drew recognized him, so he has no reason to hide. I could play up to him, make him feel safe.”

  “No.”

  “Ian, be reasonable.”

  “No.”

  She took a deep breath. “Fine, but I can’t stay locked away forever. Eventually Sal will find me, and Mike will find you. It’s time we stopped playing catch up.”

  I agreed, but not at the cost of her life. “Couple of more days and you’ll be sailing around the world, and I’ll be buying a Rolex.”

  Frankie gave me a sad smile. “Sounds great.”

  The urge to take her in my arms caught me off guard but I stopped myself in time. Seeking comfort in her arms was becoming all too easy, like an addiction. “In the meantime,” I said. “I want you to stay here. Neil will be over to keep you company in an hour. Mickey and I are gonna check in with Andy. See what he can find out about this Mike guy. Hopefully he’ll get an address or something…”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.” Frankie sighed at my look. “Fine. Maybe Neil will be able to get rid of this blonde mop.” She tugged at her hair. “Being blonde has its advantages, but it’s just not me.”

  “So blondes don’t have more fun?” I twisted a blonde lock through my fingers.

  “Let’s put it this way, did you ever want to bang me as a redhead?”

  I laughed, if she only knew. I gave her a quick kiss, and set out for Mickey’s apartment. If I’d know what was to come I would have stuck around to say goodbye. One more regret added to a growing list.

  Chapter 47

  “Well?” I paced around Andy’s apartment, stepping around the stray piece of computer equipment that littered the floor. Andy hit a few more keys, ignoring my pestering.

  “Computer expert, my ass,” Mickey teased. “Can’t even find one dead guy’s address…” I laughed, and Andy rolled his eyes. Mickey sat perched on a milk crate. Andy had hundreds of thousands of dollars of electronics, but he no couch, and slept on a foldout futon. Proprieties. We all had them.

  “Here goes.” Andy tapped two more keys. “We’re in.” I smiled. Andy had just hacked into the New York Department of Public Safety. He scanned the computer screen. “Looks like we have three addresses on Mike Morrissey. The most recent is in the Kitchen.” Andy hit print and out shot the addresses.

  “Thanks.” I grabbed the paper and started for the door.

  “Not so fast.” Andy shut down the laptop. “Mickey and I aren’t going to let you go after this guy alone.”

  I glanced at their equally stubborn faces. “Fine, but let’s go before he does any more damage.”

  ******

  I knocked on the door of a broken-down tenement a few blocks from O’Malley’s. The place smelled like rot, the human kind that seeped into the woodwork and paced the halls searching for a final place to rest.

  “Who’s there?” A fit of feminine coughing followed the question.

  “I need to ask you a few things.”

  The do
or opened. A slight woman with a chubby baby on her hip frowned up at us. She stood a good foot shorter than me with light brown hair and haunted amber eyes. “What do you want? I’m paid up.”

  “I’m Ian W—” I began.

  The woman interrupted, “I know who you are. Billy Wilde’s pride and joy.” The way she said it made my gut churn. I scooted closer to her, and she backpedaled a step. “What’s your name?” I asked her, but I already knew. Andy had found quite a bit of information on Mike’s little sister, namely a rap sheet and a former habit.

  “Roxanne Morrissey.”

  “Mike Morrissey’s sister, right?”

  “Yeah.” She scratched the fading track marks on her arm, a fire entering her eyes. “Billy can stuff it. I’m paying my debt, and I’m clean. He’s got no cause to send the likes of you.”

  “Billy didn’t send me.”

  The baby started to cry. She bounced it on her hip until it quieted. “So want do you want?”

  “I’m looking for your brother.”

  “He’s dead.” She started to shut the door.

  I jammed my foot between the door and frame. “Are you sure?”

  “If not, I cremated the wrong guy.” Shit. She believed her brother was dead. So where the hell did that leave us? She added at my look, “Mike was a good man. After my parents died, he tried to raise me right. He gave up going to college for me.” She smiled, sadly. “How’d I pay him back? I copped a habit, started running with assholes, and got knocked up. He did all he could, even died for me.”

  “What do you mean?” Mickey pushed me aside.

  “He went to Canada to do a job. Electrical something or another so he could pay Billy what I owed him. Three days he’s dead…” She wiped a tear away.

  I licked my dry lips. “How much do you owe?”

  She looked at me from underneath her lashes. “Ten thousand.” How the hell had she gotten in that deep? Billy didn’t do charity and fronting ten grand to a junkie wasn’t like him. Hell he’d refused to give my cousin anything, and Colin had lived on the streets.

 

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