Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

  The loafers start to move and then come back in place.

  “What’s so special about that bag anyway?” he asks.

  “It’s not the bag. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the bag. It’s my wallet with the credit cards. You know, all that stuff is a pain to replace. Same goes for my keys. I live alone and I’m not sure anyone has a double.”

  He turns around and walks to the car, bends over to grab my bag from the back seat, opens my wallet, looks at the content, studies my driver’s license and tosses it on the floor with my car keys.

  “Anything else milady?” I don’t look up but I can hear a smile in his voice. I want to say that I didn’t mean my car keys that I have a double for, but my house keys that I don’t but I think I’ve pushed my luck far enough for the night.

  He may be acting like a gentleman right now, but I can’t forget he’s a ruthless killer first. So I just say, “No, sir, thank you, sir.”

  He drives away and the only thing I can think about is how grateful I am that he’s left the light on.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Slider

  As I watch the man walk out of the club with Sally, I know I’ve seen him before, but I can’t put a name on the face. Whoever he is, he’s a dead man. I’ve never felt such rage in my life. I step out the door and watch him shove her into the passenger side of the car. I hope that she has the reflex to bolt out when he walks around the vehicle but, no, he pushes her on to the driver seat… and now the bastard cuffs her to the wheel.

  There’s nothing I can do for her at that point so I turn on the main switch, which our visitor had obviously been unable to find. A quick glance at Stallion confirms that he’s been dead for a while. Where is Prince? I find him lying on his back behind the bar. His breathing is labored. He took one in the arm. It’s bleeding but not the end of the world. The problem seems to be that he took another bullet in the lower abdomen, but I can’t tell where because someone packed the wound with clean dishtowels.

  While looking, I pick up the phone and dial 911 to call in an ambulance. I introduce myself, giving my real name and badge number.

  I go crouch next to Prince. He’s glassy eyed. I can’t tell if he’s conscious or not but, just in case, I squeeze his hand and say, “Hold on brother, you’re gonna pull out of this one. Remember there’s this crazy hot Tornado chick that’s sweet on you.”

  A corner of his mouth twitches, showing me that he’s still conscious.

  “Anything in your locker you wouldn’t want the cops to find?” I ask. He squeezes my hand slightly. “Okay, I’ll go look.”

  I start with the dancer’s dressing room. The picture Sally wanted is taped to her locker door with a few others. I take them all and put them back to back in my inside pocket. I look through the rest and it’s nothing but her costumes, which I abandon.

  Next I go to the guy’s room. Wow, surprise! Prince’s locker is impeccable. Clean t-shirts piled with military precision. I mess it up a little looking for what he doesn’t want found. I see a folding razor with a mother of pearl handle, I slide it in the back pocket of my jeans and continue my search to find, at the bottom of a toiletry bag, an old fashioned revolver. I tuck it in the back of my belt and close the locker.

  From the bottom of my shoe polish box, I retrieve my shield in my own locker and tuck it prominently on my belt. I return to the main room and hear sirens getting close. From under the bar, I take out my holster and my service weapon.

  This feels really strange. I’m a regular detective again. Maybe it’s for the best since now I have to find my girl. At the door of the bar, two cops in uniform appear with their guns out. I identify myself and tell them the place is secure.

  The two EMTs arrive, one man, one woman. I walk them to the bar and the woman tries to kneel beside Prince.

  “I can’t work behind the bar,” the woman says. “We need to pull him out.”

  When I help the other technician to pull him to a more open space, Prince barely moans but I’m sure it hurts like hell.

  We lift him up on the stretcher and the woman looks under the dishtowels while wheeling him out of the club and into the ambulance.

  “If he makes it, he’ll owe his life to you for packing him up this way,” the woman tells me as I close the doors of the vehicle.

  While they pull away, two cars pull into the parking lot of the club. One is Captain Black’s car. She gets to me first while two suited men--dressed as caricature of Federal agents--get out of the other. They stop to look at the wreckage of Stallion and Prince’s bikes.

  Can you kill someone twice? Once for taking my girl with him and once for rolling over their rides?

  “I was just driving away from the party when I heard the radio call and recognized the address,” she says. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “I came to get my shield and my service weapon that were hidden here,” I say. No use mentioning Sally and Prince wanted something that they had left in their lockers. “Prince and Sally entered before I did and he got shot. By the time I rushed in, Stallion was dead, Prince wounded, and Sally had a knife to her throat. I had no choice but to get him what he was looking for and let him drive away with her.”

  “I see he made sure there would be no hot pursuit,” says one of the Feds. “Whoever he is would make César proud.”

  I frown and remember this French so-called artist who compressed magnificent bikes into squares and sold them for a fortune… fucking con man if you ask me.

  “I always thought modern art was over rated,” I answer and see the Fed’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Right, just because I’m merely a regular cop doesn’t mean I can’t read.

  “So he’s got one of the stripers with him?” Fed number two asks.

  “She’s not a stripper. She’s a college graduate looking for a job and she happens to be my girl,” I snap back.

  “Oh, sorry, I assumed she was one your girls, you know, working here,” Fed number two says.

  “Well yeah, actually, you’re right,” I admit. “She did work here but I don’t want the bulletin to go out saying we’re looking for a stripper.”

  “Sure, I’ll say the missing woman is a police officer’s fiancé,” says Fed number one.

  “Thanks, we appreciate this,” Captain Black says. “So let’s go in and start from the top.”

  I go through the motions for them and tell them the man has to be a Wizard because he had Zach’s keys. I rack my brain to remember where I’ve seen that guy’s face before. If it’s at the club, I’m screwed because I will have no way to identify him.

  “Is it possible to get a list of all the people who visited Zach in the jail’s hospital?” I ask no one in particular.

  “That’s easy,” answers Fed number one. “He didn’t get any. We made sure no one could come and visit. We’re not sure we’ve frozen all the assets, so we try to limit communications as much as possible.”

  “Yeah, I think that’s why Zach insulted the other guys. He wanted to get beat up so he would have access to the infirmary, where he hoped security would be more lax. He didn’t realize how long it would take for the wardens on duty to get to him.”

  “Then it has to be someone who works for the penitentiary system then,” Captain Black states.

  “We’re on it,” the Feds say before they leave us.

  Captain Black and I sit on two high stools by the bar while a new team picks up Stallion’s corpse. I watch them zip the body bag closed and that’s when it dawns on me that I have a perfect solution to many of our problems.

  “At this time the head of the Category Five Knights has been cut off. Stallion is dead and Prince is critical, I’m the only one left. I think I need to stay undercover for a little while more,” I tell Captain Black.

  “What do you want to do?” she asks.

  “I think I can solve your Knights problem for good.”

  “And how would you do that?”

  “I would push for a vote on the dissolution of the chapter.
We have so few members left they would be redistributed between the neighboring chapters and I know one member is ready to go nomad.”

  “I would very much like you to reach that type of solution,” she says.

  That’s when I remember a conversation I had with David a while back, just before our mission went to hell. That night Zach’s entourage had come to celebrate an engagement of one of the Wizards and David had run into an officer he’d gone to the police academy with. David had fibbed and told him that he was working overtime as a bouncer because he was strapped for cash. The other must have been a Wizard himself and not just a relative of the groom to be.

  “Do you have the number of David’s mother’s house?” I ask Captain Black.

  “I sure do,” she says and pulls out her address book from her bag. I take the phone from behind the bar and she dials the number before giving me the phone.

  Captain Williams answers and I introduce myself, “Captain, it’s Slider, sorry, it’s Officer Paul Luck, Sally’s been kidnapped, I need to speak to David right away.”

  “Sure son, let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

  I like his efficiency. No useless questions about why, when, or where, just a right to the fact statement, if we need him, he’ll be there.

  “Hey Slider, what’s the rush?” David says a minute later.

  “Stallion’s been killed, Prince’s been shot and Sally’s been kidnapped,” I say. I pause a second to let him digest the information.

  “What can I do for you, bro?” he asks.

  “Give me the name of that cop you went to the police academy with and who you met at the strip club.”

  “You mean Michael Mayfair?” he answers. “What does Mike have to do with it?”

  “He’s the one who kidnapped Sally.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sally

  After the garage door closes, I go over my situation. I have nothing to eat, but I’m pretty sure I can survive for more than a few days without any food. What’s more annoying is that I have nothing to drink. I try to remember how long someone can survive with no fluids. I think it’s about 100 hours. That’s four days and four hours. Maybe I can last longer. The room isn’t too warm. There’s no air conditioning, but the walls are concrete with no windows so the place is cool enough for a Floridian summer.

  I pull the white plastic tube I took from the toilets out of my pocket and take out the central spring. Today I regret not being a lefty since it’s my right hand that’s tied… unless… Yes! If I work on the cuff that’s on the handrail, I can do it with both hands. It can’t be such a sophisticated lock that I won’t be able to force it open. I just have to make myself work slowly. Hurried, which is my default choice, would be clumsy and there is no reason to rush. I don’t think he’s coming back. The problem is that I don’t think anyone else is coming.

  Slider will be able to tell the cops that the man was associated with the Wizards, but that’s all the information he has. Maybe this is one of the closed down Wizards properties. Probably, otherwise how would he know no one will come in here? Will the police think of searching those?

  I. WILL. NOT. PANIC.

  I take a deep breath and slide the tip of the spring into the opening of the cuff and it slides in easily. Too easily? There has to be a latch, I pull the tip out and try again more slowly again and again and again. In vain.

  I decide to stop before I feel frustrated enough to throw the spring to the other side of the room. I’ll try a few times and then try to get some sleep. I wish I had a watch. I’m bone tired but it can’t be that late. We left the wedding party after six, so it’s eight or nine at most. Why am I so tired? Too much adrenaline spent probably.

  Looking around the room, I wonder if I’ll be able to get out of here if I manage to free myself. The door up the steps I’m sitting on looks strong enough to resist any kicking I could do. The good news is that, if I do get unhooked from the bars, I will have access to water. I’ll be able to drink from the bathroom sink. And if I can’t force open the garage’s sliding door, then I’ll think of something. Since the surface of the garage is slightly slanted, maybe I’ll create a flood and people will stop to look for where all that water is coming from.

  Okay, I can nap and when I wake up I’ll try the lock again and think. I put the spring back in my pocket, settle as comfortably as I can on the steps, one arm extended toward the rail and the other folded to rest my head. A few hours of sleep will do me good.

  No can do. No tossing and turning for me on concrete steps. I need a pillow and the lights out. I try working with the metal spring and I think I’m making progress. There’s a little something that the edge of the metal catches, I can feel it at the tip of my fingers but I can’t seem to get the pressure right. If I press hard enough it does budge, but if I press too hard the spring slips to the side. I growl in frustration and then laugh at myself. I might as well scream in frustration, the worst that could happen is someone would call for help.

  I keep at it for hours. What is it Slider says about me? Perseverance is my middle name. I guess he’s right, I never give up on things that really matter. Well, except my brother. I’ve given up on that nasty, junky cop. After our mother died, I cut all ties, and, if I never set eyes on him again, I’ll be happy.

  I search for a less uncomfortable position. Maybe I’m exhausted enough to fall asleep now. As my mind drifts away, I realize I haven’t even tried to open the door. I consider trying it now and realize it’s useless. Even if the door opens, it won’t do me any good as long as I’m tied to the rail.

  I’ll check it later … after I’ve rested a bit.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Slider

  I get to the police station before Captain Black does, but I’m not the first one there. Catherine is standing by the door waiting for me. The party dress has been replaced by jeans and a tee shirt and her hair is tucked in a ponytail.

  “They’re all in the special unit room,” she tells me as she directs me to the second floor headquarters. I haven’t been here in a while.

  Captain Williams is there with Everest and David. Before I have a chance to protest or thank him for being here on his wedding night, David says, “Mimi insisted I come. She said you needed all hands on deck and that there was no way she was keeping me home while you all went searching for her friend.”

  “I sent a patrol car with a kid I trust to drive by Mayfair's place, but no one’s there, no car, nothing,” Captain Williams tells me.

  “Is he close to anyone at the station?” I ask.

  “No,” Catherine answers. “He’s pleasant enough with everyone, but he doesn’t have friends.”

  “I saw you talking to him a few times, did he ever hit on you?” Everest asks and I’m not sure if his curiosity is strictly related to the investigation.

  “No. Never. Always the perfect gentleman,” Catherine says. “Old Southern manners. Enquiring about the health of my ‘charming mother’ he had met once. Our exchanges never went further than some small talk. Polite chitchat. I can’t think of a single bit of information about himself that he would have given me in passing about anything.”

  Everest turns to Captain Williams and says, “Steven I remember you telling me that in his personnel file, you saw that in high school he was a member of a right-wing organization.”

  “Yes, and we did suspect him of being the one who had informed Ezachia Smith that David was a police officer,” Ice adds, still standing outside of the room by the door.

  This is absurd. If the captains are trusting Ice enough to help us, they may as well let him come in the stupid room.

  “Right, but we kept him on because we didn’t have any evidence against him. Ironically, since he’s really good at administrative work, he helped inventory the Wizard’s properties in the county,” Captain Williams says. “Maybe he’s using one to hide. The real question is what does he plan to do? Does he know you recognized him?”

  “I doubt it, he only ca
me to the club once and if David hadn’t pointed him out to me, I probably wouldn’t have noticed him,” I answer. “I’m pretty sure he came in to get the cash for his boss, but now that things went to hell, he needs to rethink and decide what to do.”

  “Before we hit them, they were organized like a regular army, but now I’m not sure he can count on any network to get him out of here and into another state under a new identity. He’s probably on his own,” Catherine says.

  “We need the list of the Wizard’s property now,” Everest says.

  “That’s why I brought these two,” Captain Black states as she walks in with Fed number 1 and Fed number 2. “They were nice enough to bring us their master list and they’ll help us in our search.”

  We study the list and divide it by geographical area. Since the Feds aren’t local, they’ll each ride with a captain, Everest will go with Catherine, and David will be with me.

  Despite not being a cop, Ice does get a few locations to look at.

  “But you understand, Mister Hatcher,” Captain Black says. “You only look. If you see anything, you call the station right away. They will radio us. I don’t want any vigilante shit in this town.”

  “I hear you loud and clear,” Ice says but, as soon as the captain looks away, he winks at me. I’m pretty sure he won’t wait for anyone and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He folds the page with his addresses and excuses himself. “I’ll be waiting for my crew downstairs.”

  David and I follow him a couple of minutes later when we finish copying our list. He picks up a portable radio from the front desk so he can call in from his bike if necessary.

  Right outside of the building, under a street lamp, Ice is looking at a map with three members of the Iron Tornadoes he introduces as Lobster, Waxer, and Brains.

  We hit the first three buildings, which were confiscated as part of the RICO measures. No cars, no light, no sign of any activity. Not giving a damn about the neighbors, I walk around the properties calling Sally’s name. Nothing.