“Wow. Name it.” He was all business, knowing the explanations could come later.
“The bookie and his pal may have spotted Willie with me, and they’ve upped the ante,” I said. “I don’t want her used as collateral in all this, so I want her to stay with you for a few days.”
“Not a problem.” On a previous case, Cal’s house had been invaded by unwanted houseguests, but he loved Willie so I knew asking this wouldn’t be a problem.
“Ace and Deuce are driving up with her.”
“They can stay, too.” He was being especially charitable, and I was grateful.
“They’ll be there soon,” I said.
I hung up and turned to Willie. “Take Ace and Deuce upstairs with you and grab a few things. Then you three get out of here. I’ll deal with the police.”
Willie kissed me hard and clung to me.
“It’ll be okay,” I said, pushing her away.
“Be careful,” she said.
“You, too.”
I watched the three of them hurry away. I’d worked hard to stay calm and unruffled so they wouldn’t worry, but my control suddenly left me. Even though it was warm, my teeth began to chatter. Then my muscles quaked and I sunk to the ground. Every part of me shook violently, and I couldn’t control it. Breathe, I told myself. The world lost focus and I heard someone call my name, but it wasn’t Willie or the Goofball Brothers.
Someone touched my arm and I jerked it away, aware of pain, dull and throbbing. I bent my arm and looked at the flesh under the forearm. A long burn streaked from my elbow down toward my wrist. I didn’t remember when it had gotten burned, and none of us had noticed it. But I was sure aware of it now. It would need attention, but at another time.
The voice said something again, and I looked up.
Detective Spillman stared down at me. Her lips were moving, but I still didn’t understand what she was saying.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“You’re in shock.”
Spillman was speaking to me. I gazed up at her.
“I’m okay,” I said. The fog lifted and my heartbeat slowly returned to normal. I took some deep breaths.
“You don’t look so hot.”
I put my palms on the ground and pushed myself up. “No, I’m good.”
“I think an EMT should look at you.”
“No.” Anger replaced shock. Tony and his thugs had done this. My mind filled with vile names for them.
“You should get that burn looked at.”
“I’ll go to the doctor later.”
She shrugged, then watched me for a few minutes. “You want to tell me what happened?” she finally asked.
I sucked in a breath. “I think I’m getting too close to someone and they want me out of the way.”
“Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She’s safe.”
“Where?”
I shook my head.
“I can help.”
“She’s safe,” I repeated. “You won’t get anything from me.”
Her mouth formed into a tight line, but she stayed silent.
I nodded at what was left of my car and garage. “I want to know what you find.” My tone was clear. Don’t mess with me on this one.
For once, she wasn’t sarcastic. “I’ll call you once the fire inspectors finish their investigation.”
“Thank you.”
“Who do you think did this?”
I glanced at her, then back at my car. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d just paid a visit to the bookie I was telling you about.”
“So you think they’re involved in all this, but you can’t prove it.”
“Right.”
“Tell me what happened.”
I did, and she stayed silent until I got to the part about the bomb not going off until we’d walked away.
“And your friend didn’t crank the key?” she asked.
“No.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Some kind of timer?”
“Sounds like it. The investigators will let me know for sure.”
“But?”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds pretty sophisticated is all.”
We lapsed into silence, waiting and watching until the firemen completely extinguished the fire, and then I spent more time telling them what had happened. Cal called and said Willie and the Goofball Brothers had arrived safely, and Spillman tilted her head at me.
“Don’t ask,” I said.
“I wasn’t going to.” She held her palms up. “Why don’t you go get that arm looked at?” she said again. “They’ll be a while here. I’ll call you once we know something.”
I met her gaze, and she put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I’m going to get whoever did this,” I said.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t.”
I left her there in the backyard and climbed the stairs to my condo. My arm was aching, so I went to the bathroom and cleaned the burn. It was raw and it stung, but it wasn’t something I was going to get checked. I had something else to do.
Sometimes my impulsiveness can be a good thing. But plowing ahead without thinking can also lead to disastrous results, as I sometimes found the hard way. I should’ve been formulating a plan, but all I could see was Willie’s house on fire, and my car burned to a crisp.
I thought about this proclivity to act first and think later as I wrapped my arm in gauze and taped it up, cleaned a couple of other small cuts on my face, then got the Glock. I went back into the living room and reached for the 4-Runner keys that I usually leave on a small table by the door, and did a double-take. What car could I use? Oh, yeah. Willie’s. I hunted around the condo and found the keys to her car, took them and headed out.
Smoke lingered in the air as I got in her car. I put the key in the ignition and then stopped. What if Tony and his boys had rigged her car, too? Paranoia coursed through my veins as I got out and crawled underneath, searching for anything suspicious. Then I popped the hood and examined every nook and cranny of the engine. There was no bomb, and nothing appeared out of place. I thought about asking Spillman to give the car a onceover. At first I dismissed the idea, thinking she’d look at me like I was nuts. “Nuts be damned,” I said out loud as I raced around to the back of the house.
Spillman was standing with a couple of firemen. I caught her attention and waved her over.
“Can you have someone check my girlfriend’s car?” I asked. “For bombs?”
She wisely didn’t argue and within minutes the bomb squad had searched it and discovered no bombs. I thanked her and as she disappeared around the side of the building, I got back in Willie’s car and turned the key. The car started. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. I exhaled slowly and pulled into the road. In fifteen minutes, I parked on Colfax, right in front of Easy Street Café. I marched into the restaurant, right past a waitress and to the back. Ray was sitting at his table, chatting with the same bartender. He halted mid-sentence when he saw me.
He stood up. “What do you think –”
I launched myself at him, angling my right shoulder into his chest. He wasn’t prepared for that, and he slammed hard into the wall, kicking his feet out. The chair he’d been sitting in toppled over on him. I walked up to the door as he tried to extract himself from the chair.
“Hey!” the bartender said, but I was through the door.
Tony was sitting at the desk, writing something on a yellow legal pad.
“What’s the bet?” he said without looking up.
I reached back and locked the door, pulled out the Glock, leaned over and pointed it at him. “The bet is will I kill you or will you answer my questions?”
He looked up just as Ray pounded on the door.
“What the f –” he bleated. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the guy you shouldn’t mess with.”
Tony slowly raised his hands. His cold glare
brought me back to reality. This could go badly for me.
More muffled yelling from Ray.
“You got about ten seconds,” Tony said. “Then Ray’s going to come through that door and deal with you.”
“Why did you blow up my car?” I snarled.
“What?” He appeared genuinely surprised.
“Don’t act dumb. You were at my house today and you planted a bomb, didn’t you? But it didn’t quite work like you planned, because I’m still here.”
“I didn’t plant a bomb.”
“I don’t believe you,” I snapped.
A violent thump rattled the door, the lock gave, and the door flew open. I stepped to the side as Ray stumbled headlong into the desk, righted himself and whirled around to face me. I aimed the gun at both of them.
“You’re making a serious mistake,” Ray said, his voice laced with menace.
The bartender poked his head in the doorway. He saw the gun and went white. “I don’t want no trouble,” he said. He pulled the door closed before I could say anything, leaving it slightly ajar, but no one disturbed us.
“Why are you still hassling me?” I said. “You got the damn sculpture, so what do you want? I don’t have anything else.”
They exchanged a glance.
“What sculpture?” Tony asked.
I gritted my teeth, trying for some semblance of patience. “The Chen.”
Looks of surprise.
“Yeah, I know about it,” I continued. “You were at Nick’s apartment the other night and you took it.”
“No, we didn’t,” Tony said.
I hesitated. “It’s gone and you were there. Ergo, you have it.”
“No, we don’t,” Tony said slowly.
I hated to admit it, but I believed him. “So who has it?” I asked. Like he would actually tell me. Stress and anger were doing funny things to me.
Tony’s face twitched, part smile, part dangerous sneer. “I don’t know who has it, but I want it.”
“Why? To help pay off some of Nick’s debt?”
He nodded. “You’re brighter than you look.”
“I’m plenty bright,” I said defiantly.
“Not really. Only an idiot would come in here, waving a gun at me.”
I tried to keep cool, but I was unsure of my next step. “Someone bombed my car. I thought it was you.”
“And your answer to that is to come and threaten me?”
“I just want to find out who killed Nick and then started a fire to cover it up. They think my girlfriend did it and I want to clear her name.”
Tony laughed, high and tight. “That’s what this is about? Helping your girlfriend?”
Ray laughed, too, but without humor. He looked like he wanted to kill me.
I shrugged, my bravado quickly leaving me.
“Why would I kill Nick, then burn down his apartment, and not take the Chen with me?”
“You couldn’t find it the night you killed Nick,” I said, and knew the moment it came out of my mouth that it didn’t make sense.
Tony nodded his head, just a slight tic, and Ray moved. It was my turn to be surprised, as he moved with the speed of a panther. He knocked a chair aside, then caught me with a quick jab in the face. My head jerked back and blood began flowing from my nose.
I cursed and he grabbed the arm with the burn, then quickly twisted me into a chokehold.
“Drop the gun,” he snarled.
I did as ordered, my eyes watering at the pain. He squeezed and I coughed, trying to breathe. Tony got up and stepped around the desk. He bent down and Ray grabbed my hair with one hand and yanked my head back. Tony put his face in my face, his nose an inch from mine.
“I should kill you right now,” he said, his breath smelling of cigarettes and coffee. He looked at me in one eye and then the other, his own eyes slits of cold menace. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t care if you believe me or not. But know this – don’t ever threaten me, or you’ll wish you’d died a quick death in a car bombing. You understand?”
I tried to nod.
“Good.” He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Now…we’ve got a problem. You don’t know where the Chen is, and neither do I. And that’s bad for me, because I’ve got people to answer to. People that you do not want to run into. But it’s your lucky day. You know why?”
I didn’t even attempt to nod this time.
“It’s your lucky day because I’m going to make you a deal. You get that sculpture for me, and I’ll let you live.”
“I…don’t…ack…know…where it…is,” I croaked.
His face twitched again. “Then I suggest you spend your time looking for it instead of bugging me.” His gaze was icy. “Ray said he saw you earlier today. He tells me you were with a woman. Your girlfriend?”
I fought against Ray, but it was useless. He tightened his hold on me and I couldn’t move.
“Don’t worry, I’ll leave her alone,” Tony said. “If you bring me that sculpture.” His eyes bore through me. “Do you understand?”
Ray finally loosened his grip enough for me to nod.
“Good.” Tony picked up the Glock. “Nice gun.” He pressed the magazine release, took out the clip and stood up. He gestured with the Glock toward the alley door. Ray jerked me backwards, then Tony opened the door. Ray shoved me through and dragged me out into the middle of the alley. He let me go and I fell on my hands and knees. I started to get up, but he kicked me in the side. My breath shot out of me and he kicked me again. I leaned forward, resting my face on the asphalt. I tried to suck in air but couldn’t. The sound of shoes on gravel came to me and I braced myself for more. Then black and white leather shoes came into my view.
“You should think twice before you let your anger get the best of you,” Tony said.
A metal plunk sounded as he dropped the Glock in front of my face.
“Come on,” he said to Ray.
Ray grunted, then followed Tony back inside the office.
I rolled over. My poor ribs couldn’t take anymore. I grabbed the Glock and shoved it into the holster, got slowly to my feet, and staggered out of the alley.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I sat for a moment in Willie’s car, assessing the situation. I don’t think Ray broke any ribs, but it sure as hell hurt to breathe. A look in the rearview mirror showed a swollen nose to add to the cut already there. Otherwise, I seemed to be intact, although I would certainly be sore later on.
I frowned. Not only was I no closer to knowing who had started the fire and killed Nick O’Rourke, I now had to recover a valuable piece of artwork or I’d have to move out of the country so those thugs didn’t kill me. Oh, or Willie.
“You got yourself into a real pickle,” I said to no one.
Add to that Tony and Ray, rifling through Nick’s apartment in search of the Chen, and someone else stole it before they did. What were the odds? And who stole it? Was the Chen something that Nick and Nadine owned, and he got it in the divorce? Or did Nick acquire the sculpture after the divorce? I didn’t know those answers, but I knew who to ask.
***
Nadine’s jaw dropped when she opened the door.
“What happened to you?”
“Just a few cuts and bruises,” I said.
“A few?” She ran a hand through her hair. “What are you doing here? I just got home from work and I’ve had a long day.”
“I was in the neighborhood.” That was a lie. I could’ve called Nadine to ask her what I wanted to ask her, but I wanted to see her reaction. “When you and Nick were married, did you collect any artwork?”
“Artwork?” she repeated. “Not really. We bought a painting or two.”
“Like what?”
“Are you still trying to figure out who killed Nick?” She puckered her lips. “Come and look.” She stepped back and I stepped past her. She pointed to the right. “In the living room.”
The living room was decorated in earth tones, with tan leather couches, mahogany cof
fee and end tables, and a credenza on one wall loaded with booze and glasses. There was a big bay window with a large turquoise vase sitting in it, and a stone fireplace. Somehow the vase didn’t fit the décor, but then, what did I know?
“Nice house,” I said.
She let out a sultry laugh. “I do well. Too bad I date men who always need money.”
As if called, Ken strolled into the room. “Nadine, what –” He stopped when he saw me. “Hey,” he said with a curt nod, his eyes forming into tight lines. It didn’t work with his perfect good looks.
I nodded back. He clearly wasn’t happy to see me. Had I interrupted something?
“Ken, darling, could you give us a moment?” Nadine said a little too sweetly.
He kept his eyes on me. “Sure,” he finally said and walked slowly away.
“What was I saying? Oh, the men I date.” She wrinkled her brow. “Maybe I should look at that.” She laughed again. “We bought those two pieces when we were in California.” She pointed at a painting above the fireplace and another above the couch. Both were landscape scenes, rich in colors. I’d never heard of the artist.
“They’re nice,” I said. And they were definitely not Asian. “Did you buy any sculptures?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”
“So nothing of an Asian persuasion?”
She laughed. “Nick? I highly doubt it.”
“Why so sure?”
“I’d begged him to go on a trip to China and he wouldn’t do it, said Asia held no interest for him. Besides, he thought these two paintings were a wasted investment, so I don’t see him spending any money that he might’ve had on artwork of any kind.”
“Well…” I didn’t know what to say.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?”
I wavered. “I can’t right now, but thanks for the time.” I headed for the door.
“Anytime,” she called after me. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
I drove away, thinking about her reaction. I wanted to believe her, but then, she was the femme fatale of all the film noir I loved. Beautiful, but dangerous.
Something else crossed my mind, and I grabbed my cell phone.
Torch Scene Page 13