Jumping into the driver’s side just as soon as the rain started, he turned on the engine and drove toward home, but he couldn’t go there. He was feeling too vulnerable.
Two weeks had passed since he’d viewed the security camera footage with Coby. They’d found nothing that could point them to Fester’s killer. Not that Steam was shocked. The killer had planned the attack and he had skills, enough that he could sneak up on a Diamond member in the daylight, slice his throat, and disappear without anyone being wiser. Steam believed the man had a military background. They were trained to get in, get out, and leave no clues.
Rubbing his forehead, Steam wanted answers.
Maybe if he got a couple hours of sleep he’d be thinking clearer. He could cath some ZZZs at the Mountain Force office.
His mind automatically thought of Lauren. He brought his hand to his nose and breathed in her scent. There was he again, turned inside out and for what? A woman he confessed his love to and she ran away. The story of his life.
At the office, an unmarked building located just outside of the town limits, he found Damon Reed sitting at his desk, his head bent over paperwork from a recent case. “What the hell are you doing here so late?” Steam asked his buddy who was one of the first members of Mountain Force.
“Just working on some last-minute details. Any news on the dead man, Fester?”
“Fuck no. Anything to do with a Diamond is surely going to cause me many sleepless nights. Speaking of sleep, are you planning on using the couch?”
“No, man. I’ve got to get home. I told Paisley I’d be there when she woke up.” Paisley was Damon’s daughter with his wife who died tragically ten years ago, right after their daughter was born.
“You might want to shave too before you see her. You’re likely to scare your own kid.”
Damon chuckled. “I’ll take that into consideration. See you later, bro.”
Steam dropped down on the couch and tossed and turned, finally drifting asleep when his cell rang from the coffee table. He grabbed it, looked at the screen and clicked “talk”. “Yeah?”
“Steam? It’s Lauren. I need to speak to you. Can we meet?”
Chapter 6
The waitress stopped by the table at the late-night diner, and after taking Steam’s order of coffee and leaving, Lauren said, “Thank you for meeting me.”
“It sounded urgent. Are you okay?”
He looked tired and she felt guilty for calling him back after she demanded that she never wanted to see him again. “You must be confused, but you’ll understand once I explain.” She paused while the waitress left his coffee. “To help you understand, I should start from the beginning.”
“The beginning is always a good place to start.”
“The night of the attack a messenger had delivered a package to my office. Inside I found a flash drive. I uploaded the files. Unfortunately, I only saw one and it was a surveillance picture of Max King and Mayor Bloom taken outside of a club. Remember King has denied having any business dealings with Bloom outside of the office? Someone had been trailing King to get the dirt on him.”
Steam’s mouth thinned and he leaned forward. “Where’s the drive now?”
“Gone. The attackers might have found it. Or it fell out. I don’t know.”
“Someone just dropped this in your lap? Why?”
“I never learned why. There was a note included in the envelope, basically stating that the drive was evidence to put King away. I think I know who sent me the envelope. Carol King.”
“Carol King? Why do you think she sent incriminating evidence against her husband? She feared him.”
Reaching into her purse, she took out the letter and pushed it across the table toward him. “This was waiting for me when I got home this evening.”
He opened the envelope and she watched his expression change as he read it. Lauren had been floored too when she read the letter written by and signed by Carol. It simply stated that if Lauren was receiving the envelope that meant Carol was gone. Inside she’d explained her fear of her husband. How she knew he would find her wherever she disappeared to so running wasn’t an option. In the end, Carol had known that the only choice she had was to save her daughter, Jane, from her monster father. When Steam looked up from the letter, Lauren said, “Her wishes were that I expose King so he would be put behind bars, and Jane would be safe.”
“How do we know this is from her? It’s signed, but anyone could have sent this. And why are you just now getting it?” He rubbed his forehead.
“I’m sure it’s from her.” Clutching the edge of the table, she felt sickened. “I don’t know how, but I believe it’s true. I’m also sure Carol sent the flash drive. She knew she wasn’t safe…and her daughter isn’t safe either.”
“Without the flash drive we don’t have a case. Her letter isn’t enough. King is Jane’s father and there’s nothing we can do about that.” There was an edge to his voice telling her he hated saying the words.
“Putting King behind bars is the only way to save Jane.”
He chuckled but it was cold and eerie. “I’ve spent years trying to put that fucker behind bars. The night of your attack when you were brought into the hospital, I was already there. Carol King was still laying on a gurney when I was questioning Jane. I know she knows something, possibly even saw her father kill her mother, but she was too afraid to speak.” He blew out a long breath and eased back into the seat. “The attackers wanted you dead. If you talk about that drive or this letter publicly you’ll be signing your death warrant. The next time they won’t screw up.”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Sit back and let King get away with murder?”
“Do you think it’s easy for me?” He must have sensed her frustration. “Listen, I’ve been trailing King for so long. He’ll fuck up eventually, and when he does, I’ll be there.”
She looked down at the letter as if it could honor her with answers. It only confused her more. “I want to help.”
“Help?”
“To find enough to put King away for good. I think it’s possible that the flash drive could have fallen out.”
“And? It’s long gone.”
“Is it? Have you gone to the spot where I was found? Maybe we can figure out who delivered the letter to my door. It’s possible Carol saved the pictures somewhere, for a Plan B.” Lauren could read Steam’s thoughts through his expression. He’d been disappointed time after time, thinking he had a lead only to find that King got away again. She understood his doubt. “Will it hurt? What do we have to lose?”
His gaze met hers. “An hour ago, you asked me to stay away from you and now you’re asking to help me investigate Max King?”
“Aren’t you willing to do anything for Carol? For Jane?”
He grabbed his wallet, pulled out a few bills and laid them on the table.
She blinked. “Is that a no?”
“I’m going and getting some sleep. It’s late. If you wake up in the morning and still have this crazy desire, then call me.” He held her gaze in a sincere clutch. “Don’t go out there alone. The last thing you need is to alert King that you’re onto him.”
“I’ll be calling you,” she swore.
“Come on.” He motioned for her to stand.
“What?”
“I’m taking you home, dropping you off at your door, and making sure you get in safely.”
*
The man tucked his cap lower on his forehead and buried his nose in the newspaper as a couple passed him on the sidewalk. They stopped to kiss, laughed, and raced for a nearby store as the sprinkles started. Finally, alone again, he swiped a glance right and left, then crossed the street dropping the newspaper into a trash can and kept walking until he came to the targeted location. Lights were on in two windows downstairs and a dimmer light upstairs.
Picking up a small rock, he made sure no one was watching on the dark street and took out a camera and a security light.
Slipping through th
e side yard, he slowly and carefully made his way into the back, trying the handle on the door. Just as he’d planned, it was locked.
Pressing the button on his watch that started the timer, he then reached for the lock pick in his pocket. He easily unlocked the door—too easy. The thugs inside had become lazy and overconfident. That only made his job quicker.
As silent as the night descended upon the daylight, the man in all black stepped quietly into the shadowed hallway, keeping his back pressed to the wall and listening for any sounds. He took out his .38, aiming at the ceiling. His hands shook slightly as he took each step cautiously and precisely, digging deep for a patience that was necessary when he was about to kill someone. He’d planned this in his head, over and over again. Time was ticking. He knew he had five minutes. After that, anything could happen and he didn’t like surprises.
The lamp was on in the room at the end of the hall and he focused on the doorway, monitoring his breaths, his gun held steady now. Each pace took him closer and closer to the revenge he sought. These men deserved what they got, and he would hand over their punishment to them tonight. It both amazed and motivated him how easily he found this—how easy he could end lives. He wasn’t innocent. He was a soldier. He’d taken many lives across the pond without a judge or jury. The scumbags in the house believed they were immortal because they had the protection of the Blue Diamonds tattooed on their skin, but he would gladly prove that no one was safe from a man who hunted revenge.
From his hidden position in the shadows, he peered into the outer room, studying the three men, absorbing every detail, just as he had been trained to do. Once a soldier, always a soldier. His blood ran red, white and blue. He was doing America a favor.
He learned to use unrestricted speed, strength and patience, but most importantly relying on the element of surprise to gain dominance against the enemy. Fear didn’t belong in his reckoning. Once he decided to invade his adversary, there was no turning back…no choice but to strike fast and hard. He was prepared, filled with anger and vengeance. This was his only choice. He had been left with no other path but retribution.
The day of reckoning was here.
Two of the three men were sitting around a table playing cards. Their guns were holstered at their sides. The third man had his gun sitting beside his hip on the couch, his head bent over the coffee table while slicing cocaine into lines. Using a rolled-up bill, he sniffed one line, lifted his head as his eyes moved back into his head. His nostrils flared and were covered in white residue that he wiped away with the back of his hand. He licked his fingers and skin, lapping up every bit of the deposit.
A sharp, staggering pain ripped through the man as he watched. He held his breath, his brain processing the time. He couldn’t wait much longer.
Inhaling a deep breath into his lungs, he took the necessary steps that brought him into the room. The man hovering over his second line snapped his head up and looked straight at the man in black, blinking his red, watery eyes as if he couldn’t see straight.
“What the fuck?” The cocaine man reached for his gun, but he wasn’t fast enough. He was shot between the eyes. His eyes rolled back in his head, a line of red streaked between his forehead, and he fell forward, landing face down, breaking the mirror. Blood saturated the powder. The other two men jumped to their feet. One of them managed a shot but missed and the intruder shot him point blank in the chest. The card player dropped to his knees, the light fading from his eyes before he fell backward in a thud on the carpet.
The other man had darted for cover behind the couch.
The intruder ducked behind the chair, scanning the room, looking for the third man. A bullet whizzed by, hitting the lamp and shattering it. Now in the dark, the intruder was left depending on his senses alone. This was his element. He stood, each step was slow and calculated as he listened. He could smell the other man’s sweat, hear his shallow breathing. Fear laced the air.
Lifting his gun, the intruder pulled the trigger twice. He heard a muffled grunt, then a thump as the man fell onto the expensive Egyptian carpet next to his buddy.
All three were dead.
But this mission wasn’t finished.
Standing at the bottom of the spiral staircase, the intruder listened.
Finally, he took the stairs two at a time, crept down the hall, opening doors as he went, and the third time was a charm.
Sitting up in his four-poster bed, covered in pristine white blankets, was the frail old man who’d destroyed many lives. In his day, he’d sold drugs to kids, young girls to sex trafficking and then he was promoted in the Diamonds where he’d given orders to slaughter the innocent and recruit kids into the cartel.
The old man was hooked to machines that kept his kidneys functioning and oxygen that kept his lungs pumping.
A noise to his left made the intruder turn with his gun aimed. A young nurse was standing against the wall, her hands up, tears flowing from her eyes. This shocked him, but only for a second. “Go!” he demanded. He used his gun to motion for her to step into the closet.
“Please, no! I have kids,” she pleaded with him.
“I won’t hurt you. Step inside.” He gently pushed her into the closet, then closed the door, blocking it with a small dresser.
The old man’s eyes were on the intruder but he wore a mask so there was no recognition
“Berkley?” the old man called out in a weak voice for one of his thugs. “Leist? Thomas?”
The intruder deposited his gun into the waist of his jeans and removed his leather gloves, laying them on the nightstand next to the supply of medicine bottles. “Don’t waste your breath. Your men are out of commission.” Pulling the chair over next to the bed, he took a seat and stretched his legs, looking at the frail body of the notorious kingpin, Beavers.
“Who the hell are you?” the old man pushed through thin lips, but it took its toll. He started coughing, splattering blood over his hand and leaving drops on the cover. Beavers looked over the intruder’s shoulder, his grey eyes covered in a glossy film. The old man’s blind. Another surprise.
It didn’t lessen the fact that he’d killed and ruined the lives of innocent people.
“It doesn’t matter who I am, Beavers, but if you need a name you can call me Archangel. I’m the judge, jury and executioner and you have met the end of your travels. Are you prepared to meet your maker?” The old man reached for the phone sitting on the nightstand, but the Archangel easily took the device out of the old man’s hand. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You didn’t think you’d get one phone call, did you? This isn’t jail. The likes of men like you don’t deserve three meals and a cot.”
“What do you want? Money? I have plenty,” the old man said arrogantly.
“This isn’t about money. This is about God’s will. This is about all the victims laying six feet under because you sold them drugs or ordered their execution. How does it feel to be on the other side of the gun?”
“Wh-what are you talking about? Do you realize who you’re talking to? I’ll have you swimming with the fish by the end of the hour.” What was meant as a harsh threat turned out as a shaky declaration at best.
“If you were any importance, it wouldn’t have been a cake walk getting to you. Your time is done, friend. You’ve been put out to pasture.” He slipped on his gloves, checking his watch. Three minutes remained.
The old man sighed and his shoulders relaxed into the bed. “Then get this over with. I’ve been dead for months now. I’m not afraid.”
“There are two types of pain,” Archangel said softly. “One is fleeting and the other is constant. When you lose someone precious it’s like waking up every day in hell. The pain is indescribable. Overwhelming. Constant.”
As if the old man realized his fate, he lost some of the fight in his jaw. He then became a frail eighty-something old man who understood his card had been dealt. He’d probably been begging for death because cowards like him can only invoke pain on others but couldn’t stand their own
.
His watch beeped, alerting him that he had two minutes left.
Chapter 7
“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind.”
Steam smiled as he stood on Lauren’s doorstep. Seeing her triggered every emotion in his body, but he couldn’t forget that she’d told him that she never wanted to see him again. Damn, he hadn’t meant for things to get out of control in the closet. Knew as well as his own name that she would push him away after, but he’d been caught up in the moment and lost logic. “I didn’t think you would. You ready?” He roved his eyes down her T-shirt and jeans, to her boots.
She stepped out, closed the door and locked it, then her jaw dropped. “That’s what we’re taking?” She pointed at the motorcycle.
“It’s a nice day.” They walked down the sidewalk. He grabbed the helmet from the back and held it out for her. “This is for you.” When she didn’t make a move to accept the offering, he sighed. “You’ve been on this before.”
“Yes, but…that’s been years.”
“That means I’ve only become more of a skilled driver.” How could she argue that point? He should have known she could find an arguing point.
“You’re dangerous.”
“What? I’ve never had an accident.” Seeing the stubborn tilt to her chin, he shrugged and replaced the helmet. “Fine. We don’t need to go.”
“Why can’t we take my BMW?”
He chuckled. “Take your rich car down the middle of crack town? Yeah, we won’t get any stares, will we?”
She grabbed the helmet. “Have it your way, although I think you did this on purpose.”
“The girl I remember would be excited to be on the back of my ride.”
“The girl you remember also married you after one summer. Apparently, I was delusional.” Her helmet was on and her arms were crossed.
Secured by the Lawman (Mountain Force Book 2) Page 8