The Queen of Miami

by Heidi Lowe

  “You expect us to hold a shipment without knowing what's inside it, for an undetermined length of time?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said simply. “You know why, Miss di Blasio? Because you don't have a choice.”

  He was still cackling when she exited the vehicle, she could hear it as she walked away. Now she knew what it felt like to make a deal with the devil: you could only ever lose.

  But Willa had never been good at losing. “Get used to losing, you'll do it all the time,” her father used to say. She'd learned to discard much of her father's so-called “wisdom” since making it official with Layke, but she recalled this little nugget of advice at the right time.

  She still had one move, one play left, though it was the last resort. Calling on the people her family had always seen as enemies may have been the only way to get out of this deal unscathed.

  As soon as she got home she called Guy.

  “If only we never had to leave this spot,” Willa said, her head resting on Layke's stomach as Layke stroked her hair, comforting her. This apartment, this bed, these arms, she never wanted to leave any of them. She squeezed her tighter as though if she let her go she would never feel her again.

  “Is that your way of saying you want to move in?” Layke joked.

  “It's my way of saying I love you, Layke Owen, and whatever happens I'll never stop.”

  “Hey, look at me.” Layke sat her up so they could see each other, apprehension making Layke frown. “Nothing's going to happen. As soon as you hear back from your brother about what's in the container, I'll put a call through to my colleagues. Everything will work out.”

  Willa was too much of a realist – some would say pessimist – to share in her girlfriend's optimism. She'd seen enough to know that plans rarely went smoothly; the more moving parts involved, the higher the chance for mishaps.

  “I just want to be happy,” she said, and felt her nose running. Now wasn't the time to cry.

  Layke stroked her cheek, gave her a reassuring smile. “And you will. We both will.”

  All she had to do was believe her. Those big green eyes never lied, hadn't let her down, had loved her and meant it. If she would believe anyone it would be Layke. But... she couldn't. The feeling that swelled in the pit of her stomach, that feeling of dread, just wouldn't shift.

  “What if–”

  Layke pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. “No what ifs. Your men know when the shipment arrives in the docks. Once their contact creates a distraction, they'll have enough time to check the container. Then my guys will cut Bedrosian's men off en route. Simple.”

  It was far from simple, and there were many what ifs. She opened her mouth to say but, a word which, she suspected, would have also been met with a finger to the lips, when her cell phone buzzed. She snatched it up off the bedside table, only catching a glimpse of the caller I.D.

  “All right, we've just seen Bedrosian's men.” It was hard to miss the excitement in Guy's voice, even with the noisy sounds of the docks in the background. “I'm about to take a look inside while our contact stalls them with some paperwork.” Then he proceeded to hum the Mission Impossible theme music.

  Willa rolled her eyes. Her hands were shaking with fear while he was humming with excitement. “Where are Ghost and Asher?”

  “Right beside me.”

  “All right. Just keep me on the line.”

  “Sure.” He resumed humming, before adding, “Hey, sis, remember that weird crush you had on Tom Cruise when you first watched that movie?”

  Willa's face filled with color when she saw Layke, who had obviously heard, mouth “Tom Cruise? Eww.”

  “It wasn't a real crush. I was going through a straight phase.” She couldn't help but laugh. “I was ten years old, for God's sake. How do you even remember that?”

  He chuckled. “The guys are laughing at you by the way. I store everything embarrassing to be used again at a later date.”

  “Asshole!” she said with affection. She heard muffled conversation in the background, then heard Guy respond. That was the last thing she heard before the line went dead.

  “What happened?” Layke questioned.

  “I don't know. The reception must be bad.” Even though she said it, she sensed something more sinister was at play. “I don't like this, Layke. What if Bedrosian's men spotted them?”

  “I'm sure it's fine.” She rubbed Willa's arm in an act of support, but despite the brave face she put on, worry penetrated through. She added, “I could call my team now, but it could destroy the whole thing. It's totally up to you.”

  “We'll wait. If we don't hear back from them in half an hour, we can put through an anonymous call to your guys.”

  So passed the longest thirty minutes of Willa's life, passed without incident, without a word from her brother or her two men. Panic set in five minutes into the wait; it reached a resounding peak on the thirtieth minute. Something was definitely wrong.

  She dragged on her clothes.

  “Willa, where are you going?” Layke asked, panicked.

  “To find my brother.”

  Layke knew she couldn't have stopped her if she'd tried. That resolve on her face, in her voice – she doubted there was anyone on Earth who could have stopped Willa. She jumped out of bed. “All right, but I'm coming with you.” She received no objections to her tagging along, nor to her fetching her gun from the drawer. As the only one among them with a weapon, she surmised that her presence was needed.

  They took Willa's car, breaking the speed limit more than once and even running a red light.

  “Honey, slow down,” Layke advised, gripping onto the door handle while the convertible sped along the road.

  Willa didn't respond. She didn't take her eyes off the road, didn't look over at her girlfriend to see how petrified she was. Worrying about Guy had exhausted all of her attention. Only once she found him, safe, would she be able to concentrate on everything else.

  She almost went crashing into the truck when she turned onto a new street. She hit the brake just in time and the car skidded to a stop only inches away from the side of the truck.

  They stepped out of the car. The truck had clearly been abandoned, left in the middle of the road to create all kinds of hazards. The doors were wide open.

  “Stay back.” Layke stepped in front of Willa, her gun raised as she led the way to check out the back, the cop in her taking over, even though she felt like she would faint from the blood rushing to her head, or keel over from a heart attack.

  “Police. Come out with your hands up,” she shouted, shoulder against the truck door, hands grasping tightly to her gun. Several feet behind her Willa continued to obey orders, knowing that she was useless without a weapon of her own.

  Nothing stirred. No sound came from the truck.

  As soon as she stepped out, gun pointed inside the truck, her stomach did somersaults. She grabbed onto the metal door lever for support. “Oh, dear God.” Whatever had once been inside the container was long gone, replaced by something else.

  “What is it?” Willa came rushing over, but Layke restrained her.

  “Willa, honey, I need you to stay back, all right? Please.”

  It was no use. Willa could see the look in her face, that hopeless look. She shoved her out of the way and peered inside the truck, into the shipping container. Her scream was deafening, bloodcurdling, as it erupted from the deepest depths of her soul. She scrambled to get into the truck, weeping and shaking her head, over and over, her vision blurry from the tears. But not blurry enough to change the scene. As she cradled Guy's lifeless body in her arms, his blood from the multiple bullet wounds soaked her clothes and shoes, seeped into the filthy piles of rags on the container floor.

  “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, letting her tears fall over her brother's face. He was still warm when she pressed her face to his. “I'm so sorry.”

  It was time to call it in.

  It was five in the morning by the time Layke brought h
er back home. Her clothes were still drenched in her brother's blood, and the spaced out look she'd had in her eye when Layke pulled her away from the corpse was still present. She stripped her and put her in the shower, receiving no resistance, no acknowledgment whatsoever from Willa. She scrubbed all traces of blood from her, and then dried her off and dressed her.

  “Baby, say something to me,” she said, when she could no longer take the silence.

  “He's gone. He's really gone.” Willa turned to look at her, as if seeing her for the first time since it had happened. “He's never coming back.”

  “I know, baby, but you'll get through this. And we'll get Bedrosian–”

  “I don't want to get through it!” she snapped. “I want him to suffer. Suffer the way Guy did. There was so much blood. So many bullets...” Tears rolled down her face at an unstoppable pace. “I need to call Trent, he needs to know what happened, what Bedrosian did. We might still be able to do something to save Ghost and Asher.” She searched around manically for her cell phone, and when she couldn't find it, forgetting that it was in Layke's bag, she started tossing things across the room, anything she could find, like a woman possessed.

  “Honey, listen to me,” Layke said, her voice calm. “I think there's something you need to know about your brother Trent.”

  Now she had Willa's full attention, though she didn't like that rabid look in her eyes. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to tell her what she'd learned.

  “What?”

  “Was Trent there the day in the warehouse? With the Italians?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “What about Ghost and Asher? Were they with him?”

  Willa nodded slowly. “Why?” she demanded again.

  “Just before the FBI took the case away, we found the same bullets in Brad Gunner's back that we found in the Italians. The autopsy report showed that the two in the front, the ones done with the Italians' guns, were done postmortem... after he was already dead. After the Italians were already dead...”

  Willa blinked at her. “What are you saying, Layke?”

  “I'm saying it was friendly fire that killed your guy, not the Italians. And someone tried to make it look like Ambrisi's men killed him.”

  Willa shook her head, sitting down slowly on the edge of the bed. “No, he wouldn't. Trent's ambitious, and he's a jerk, but... he wouldn't... he couldn't... And Ghost and Asher, they've always been loyal...”

  “An old friend from uni works at the FBI. He says they have reason to believe that someone in your organization was involved with the shooting in the park, and with the Cuban murders, maybe even Ambrisi's death... Honey, I think your brother set this whole thing up.”

  When Willa began to cry again, Layke knew it was because she believed everything. She had, in effect, lost two brothers in the same night. Sometimes crying was all a person could do when everything was gone. But she, Layke, was still there. And at first, when she tried to hold her bawling girlfriend, she was met with a struggle. Willa finally gave in, broke down, and let herself be comforted.

  “I'm here, honey,” Layke whispered, kissing her head as she cradled her. “I'm not going anywhere.”

  EPILOGUE

  She thought about leaving a note. An apology. A line or two at least, explaining why she had to disappear. Explaining why a betrayal and loss this deep made it impossible for her to stick around. Explaining that staying would put both their lives in jeopardy. She knew Layke would never understand, that she believed the laws of justice would right all of the world's wrongs. Ideological to the last. She loved that about her, though she hated it in everyone else.

  She knew that she came by the penthouse after she woke to find her gone, and for many weeks following her disappearance. Flashing the badge to gain entry, then breaking down the door when there was no answer, and finding the place cleared out. She knew there was a BOLO issued for her, warning all to be on the look out for Willa di Blasio, initiated by Layke in an effort to find her, on some bogus charges. It was all out of love, she knew that, too. She wondered how far it would get her, if Layke's persistence would ever lead her to her prematurely. She worried that she wouldn't be prepared if it did.

  She didn't leave a note, just an imprint on her sleeping girlfriend's forward – a kiss that Layke wasn't conscious for and would never know had been there. The absence of the note, now that she would notice.

  Notes were so final, so much like a goodbye that it almost felt like a lie to leave one. They could never say all that the receiver wanted to hear. The recipient would always wish for one more line, one more word, one more I love you. It would never be enough.

  As she set off for a destination she wouldn't know until she got there, it occurred to Willa then that Layke would think herself insufficient, not enough to stick around for. That thought alone made Willa weep. And then she wept some more because she knew that the person who had loved her the most would end up hating her the most.

  When they finally came face to face again, her apology would just have to be great.

  THE END

  OTHER BOOKS BY HEIDI LOWE

  Series:

  My Mother's Best Friend

  Justified Affair

  The Neighbor

  Set Dreams

  Le Coeur Island

  Novellas:

  Crave: Nikki's Story

  Crave: Faye's Story

  At Her Service

  Novels:

  My Beautiful Sin (Beautiful Sin Saga, Book 1)

  Sinning Again (Beautiful Sin Saga, Book 2)

  Sinning Forever (Beautiful Sin Saga, Book 3)

  The Queen of Miami

  Strummed

  Her Lesson in Love

  A Scarlet Kiss

  Before You Were Mine

  Mega Bundles:

  Girl Love: 11-Book Lesbian Romance Mega Bundle

  BLURB

  Lying on his deathbed, the head of Miami's most notorious crime family, the di Blasios, makes a startling decision: he leaves the business in the hands of his daughter, Willa. So far she's stayed in the background, letting her brothers take center stage. Now, as the new number one, she's learning that gun-running is a lot harder than she thought, and made more difficult by the nosy but beautiful detective who turns up hellbent on bringing her down.

  Detective Layke Owen has always listened to instinct. It's gotten her far. So when her instinct tells her that Willa di Blasio is now running the show, she has to prove her theory, even if it means following the girl's every move. But Willa is too savvy for her, too smart, and just a little too intriguing. What starts out as a game of cat and mouse soon turns into something more. Something neither woman was prepared for.

  Amidst the power struggles, proving themselves, and dead bodies piling up around them, can two women devoted to such conflicting jobs ever find happiness together?

  The Queen of Miami is a steamy lesbian crime drama with strong language and adult scenes.