by A. J. Norris
“Just tell me what the hell is happening. First, you ask me to the Garage where you were acting all squirrely, and now this shit. Who or what am I in danger from?”
Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath. Obviously, he wasn’t prepared to tell me, and my intuition screamed this wasn’t why he called me here anyway. If he was really worried about me, then why not simply kick me off the crew? Tell me to disappear? I didn’t buy it.
Again, he stayed mute.
“Who are you selling the jewelry to?” I asked him. “And I’m assuming diamonds and gold are worth more to you than anything else. I mean, when I think about all the stuff I’ve helped you steal, it’s always been about jewelry, never cash.” Before Jayce pointed this fact out to me, I had not paid that much attention.
“I’m the middleman. Once I get paid, I don’t know where the shit goes.”
“So what, you pass it off to the highest bidder?”
He shook his head. “I pass it off to the guy who pays me.”
“Who pays you?” In the back of my mind, I thought, I needed to know this information if I was arrested. I’d been kept in the dark on most of the characters at play here. Why was he telling me this, though?
“You already met him.”
“Who—? Never mind. Why are you telling me this?” I knew exactly who he meant and it wasn’t Max.
“Someone needs to know and you’re the only one I trust.”
To say I was surprised would’ve been an understatement. Why on earth did he trust me more than anyone else? “You hardly know me.”
“I know more than you think.”
How much more? I tried keeping my face as neutral as possible. But I couldn’t hide my sharp intake of breath or how my back stiffened. “What exactly do you think you know about me?”
He tilted his head and a corner of his mouth lifted in a cross between a sneer and smirk. “I didn’t kill your brother. But I can relate to your thirst for vengeance.”
“What are you talking about?” I said weakly. No conviction whatsoever. “I don’t have a broth—” I stopped talking because of his you’re-really-going-with-that? expression. “If you didn’t kill him, then who did?”
“I dunno. Maybe your buddy knows.”
“I don’t have a buddy.”
“Then why’d you fuck him?”
“Who?”
Flynn rolled his eyes. “Lincoln.”
“He didn’t kill my brother.”
A couple of seagulls squealed overhead and a few more landed on the pier. They hopped along, scrounging for morsels of anything that may have been dropped by humans. You weren’t supposed to feed the birds, yet people still tossed them breadcrumbs and popcorn.
“Would you bet your life on it?”
“Call me crazy, but I like to gamble.”
“With your life?”
Jayce was a cop. He couldn’t have murdered my brother. Except, he never showed me a badge, did he? If Flynn knew about Josh, then maybe he knew something I didn’t. And then there was what Bandit said about the plot to steal the haul from J-Zen. He’d said: “I don’t know what the sonofabitch told you and I don’t care. Talk to him before accusing me of shit.”
Bandit’s response made sense to me after Lincoln—or was he Jayce?—confessed to being an undercover cop. Now, doubt clouded what I thought I knew as truth, what I believed was reality. Had he lied to cover his own ass? What Bandit said no longer sat well with me.
* * *
Jayce
Where the hell is she?
Melanie hadn’t shown back up at the apartment. After calling her about two dozen times, leaving voicemails and text messages, I got in my truck and drove to her place, or at least the address the uni found through the utility company. Although her car wasn’t in the lot, I peeked in the windows of her garden-level unit. One of her neighbors came up the front path and stopped. “Are you lost?” the man said.
I shook my head and flashed the police badge hanging around my neck. Fortunately, I had the forethought to grab the shield from the floor safe under the rug. The dude leaned over and caught a glimpse. “If you’re looking for Melanie, she left about an hour and a half ago.”
“How do you know that?”
“I went to take my boyfriend home and we passed each other in the hallway.”
“How’d she seem? Did you speak to her?”
“Her head was down like she was preoccupied with something. Not sure she even noticed us. Which isn’t usual for her.”
“What’s usual?”
“I never see her not smiling or stopping to ask how I am. My boyfriend made a comment to me that, when he said hi, she didn’t respond. That’s not like her at all.”
“Could she have been upset, you think?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. She wasn’t crying or anything though, so it’s hard to say.”
“Anything else?”
“I don’t think—oh, she had a bag with her, like she was going away for the weekend.”
“Thanks for your help—I didn’t catch your name?”
“Trevor McDonnelly. I’m in 1C. If I see her, do you want me to say you were looking for her?”
“Thanks. If you would.” I doubted she’d come back to her apartment, though. At least now I knew this was her apartment. Trevor unlocked the outside door and went inside.
“Shit.” What happened in the last few hours? Had Flynn found out her secret? With a sense of dread, I jogged to my truck.
I called Bandit on my way to the police station. “Yello?” he answered before the first ring.
“What the fuck did you say to Nora?”
“Whoa, hold up. I didn’t blow our cover.”
“What did you say to her?” I asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
“I told her to talk to you and I may have called you a sonofabitch. Look, I didn’t know what you told her, if anything. What’s going—?”
I groaned in frustration. “I think she took off.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. But is this a bad thing?”
“Where are you right now?”
“At home waiting for the call. Why, what’d’ya need?”
“Meet me at the station. We need to find her.”
“Talk to me, Jayce. Is this about the accident?”
I pulled over to the side of the road and slammed on the breaks. The tires squealed.
“What was that noi—?”
“Tell me you’re not talking about Jennifer’s accident. Tell me you didn’t know it was Melanie?” I pounded my fist on the dashboard.
“I recognized her from her driver’s license photo. From the accident report. I didn’t tell you because you were adamant about not knowing anything, and I never guessed you two would hook-up.”
What was happening? Was the whole fucking world conspiring against me? Okay, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t dealt with the news about Melanie. But come on, my best friend not telling me was a kick in the nuts. However, I’d handle this bullshit with him later. Even heroes walk the plank. Wasn’t that the truth. Although, I didn’t feel like a hero—I was more like the plank. A dumb board that gets walked on. “This is not about the accident.”
CHAPTER 28
Jayce
When I arrived at the police station, I went directly to the captain’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, staring at his computer screen. I barged in without knocking and gripped the back of the visitor’s chair.
“Oh, won’t you come in,” Miller snapped.
“Excuse me, Captain. Sorry.”
He sighed heavily. “Now that you’re here, what is it? And you look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
I scratched my scruffy cheek. “I’m sure I do. My suspect, the woman, Nora...”
“You mean Melanie Hughes.”
I nodded. “I can’t locate her, and I’d like to put out a BOLO on her.”
Miller leaned back in his chair. “A BOLO, huh? For a woman that isn’t our main target? And you also
said she doesn’t know anything, so why should I do that?”
“To protect her and possibly save her life.”
“So you want me to issue a BOLO on a suspect to protect her? From what?”
“You know the Syndicate is dangerous.”
“How long haven’t you been able to locate her?”
“Three hours.”
Miller chuckled without humor. “What’s with you and this woman, Waters? What makes you think she’s in danger? Sounds to me like you’ve gotten a little too personally involved with her and her whereabouts, especially since you claim she doesn’t know anything that might help this case.”
“Did you know about her brother?” I asked. “Or did the FBI not fill you in?”
His forehead crinkled.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Shut the door and sit down.”
I did as he asked and sat in the chair opposite him. “With all due respect, we don’t have time to fuck around on this. Her brother, Josh Hughes, was murdered about a year ago and she suspects someone in the Syndicate was responsible. She’d gotten in with them to find his killer, but in the process stumbled onto something bigger that she realized.”
“You didn’t report finding any murder evidence. Did you find something?”
“No. And honestly, I wasn’t looking for it.”
“So, you didn’t know?”
“Nope. I just recently had a conversation with Special Agent Harris. She told me Josh had become an informant for the FBI when he reported what the Syndicate was up to, where and what the jewelry was being used for.”
“Harris thinks they killed her brother because they found out he snitched?”
“Yes. Although, I believe it was a cleanup man. And, the more I think about it, Flynn must be some sort of middleman working for someone who’s got connections overseas.”
Pursing his lips, Miller nodded. “You realize that, if I put out a BOLO and she gets apprehended, she may go to prison for abetting?”
“I know, but it’s better than her dying. What’s to say they don’t assume her brother kept quiet and they kill her too by association?”
“Do you think he told her what he knew about the Syndicate?”
“Uh-uh. She wouldn’t have kept that to herself.”
“All right, type it up, send it to me, and I’ll approve.” Bandit knocked on the glass office door. Miller motioned toward my partner. “You two, go look for her. Let me know as soon as you hear about when the heist is being pulled.”
“Will do, thank you, sir.” I rapped my knuckles on his desk and left the office.
Back at my cubicle, I typed in Melanie’s vital stats then filled in the narrative details:
Melanie Hughes a.k.a. “Nora” is wanted by the Hermosa Beach Police
Department for questioning in connection to the Hermosa Beach Crime
Syndicate. She has long, brown wavy hair and hazel eyes. Last seen
wearing blue jeans and dark-pink tank top. May be driving a teal green
Honda Civic.
I finished writing up the “Be on the lookout” bulletin and sent it to Miller for approval. Bandit spent the entire time staring at me like I’d sprouted horns on my head. I grabbed my phone and keys and headed for the rear exit.
“I guess we’re going, then?” my partner asked, following me outside. We both hopped in my truck and took off. “Where do you think she went?”
“No clue. But I figure we should check her place again, then mine.”
“The Manhattan Beach place is yours now? When’s the last time you were in your own house?”
I white-knuckle gripped the steering wheel. “Don’t—leave that shit alone right now.”
Bandit pretended to lock his mouth shut and toss the key. “Have you, I dunno, tried calling her?”
I glared at him sideways. “About twenty times, plus text messages and I left voicemails.”
“Is there a possibility she skipped town, either voluntarily or involuntarily?”
“I talked to her neighbor and he said she only had one bag with her when she left.”
“She could’ve made more than one trip to her car—”
“Will you shut up?”
“Sorry, not in my nature. I’m only saying that she might have left in a hurry. Did you tell her we were cops?”
“Yeah. I had to.”
“Why?”
“I—just trust me. I had no other choice.” Because she gave me none. With the way things were going, I didn’t want Bandit to have something to put in his report, such as she threatened a police officer with a loaded gun. The reality she might be charged as an accessory was plenty to get her some jail time with the right judge, or in this case, the wrong judge.
Fortunately, Bandit stayed quiet until we reached Melanie’s apartment building again. If he had said one more word, I’d have contemplated kicking him out of the truck. I loved the guy, but man, he could aggravate the hell out of me.
Driving around the parking lot, I searched for her Civic. And as I suspected, her car wasn’t there. Even if I had located the vehicle, we were going to knock on her door. I parked at the curb closest to the entrance and got out. Bandit did the same.
Like earlier, I squeezed between the evergreen shrubs and looked through the garden-level windows. The hallway light, which was off before, was now on. Knocking on the glass, I moved from window to window, watching for any movement inside the apartment. Nothing. Dammit. Judging by the light, she must’ve come back after I had been here though, and left again.
Bandit came around the side of the building. “See anything?”
I shook my head. “Looks like she came back at some point. There’s a light on that wasn’t before.”
“I did a perimeter search and found nothing out of the ordinary.”
Pushing through the bushes, I met him on the sidewalk. “All the entrances are keyed.”
“We could talk to maintenance?”
“Oh, so you have a warrant in your back pocket?” I shook my head and he grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
“You’re right. Better not chance it, considering.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Considering what?” I asked, even though I understood what he was getting at.
“You know, that you’re already gonna catch shit for sleeping with her.” He looked at me sheepishly.
I flipped him the bird. “Get in the truck.”
The silence on the ride to the studio apartment where I had been crashing (as Bandit pointed out) lasted a mere five minutes.
“Does Melanie know she killed your fiancée?”
How did I know he was going to ask this question? I yanked the short swath of hair on the top of my head. “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “I told her.”
“Oh, man. How did she handle it?”
“Not good.” If I didn’t engage with him about this, he would only bring the subject up later.
“Do you think that’s why she took off?”
“We don’t know she did and no, I don’t.” Let it go, dude.
Naturally, he could not.
“How are you handling it?”
“I’ve dealt and moved on.”
Bandit snorted. “Whatever. I know you better than that. How’d you really take it?”
“All right, fine. It fucked me up at first, except it didn’t change how I feel about her.”
“How do you f—”
I raised my fist, cutting him off. “Nope. We need to focus on finding her right now.” A second later, our cell phones chimed from an incoming text. It could only mean one thing. “Fuck!”
CHAPTER 29
Jayce
“What perfect fucking timing. Tell me it’s only a coincidence we received a text at the same time.”
“You wish,” Bandit said.
I unlocked my phone with the facial recognition feature and handed the cell to him. “Does mine say the same thing? Read it to me.” The
tip of a sword poked my back, edging me toward the end of the plank.
“Corral one hour.”
“Corra—what?”
Bandit chuckled. “Do you think he knows we call him The Cowboy?”
“Who knows. You need to make any stops other than the station before we head over?”
“Nope. Got all I need right here,” he said, patting the gun holstered under his arm. “We should radio Miller.”
“What are you waiting for?” I briefly entertained the idea of calling Special Agent Harris, except our captain was supposed to be our only point of contact on this investigation because of how delicate the situation.
Bandit radioed the Captain. “Ten-four.”
“Sir, it’s Bandit and Jayce is with me.”
“Find the woman?”
“Negative. We got the call. It’s going down.”
“When?”
“Rendezvous one hour. We’re coming to you now.”
“Ten-four.”
We arrived at the station and pulled around to the rear entrance and jumped from the truck. Miller met us at the door. “Let’s get you two wired up.”
* * *
I stood with both of my boots planted solidly on the floor in Flynn’s office at the Garage, armed with a Glock at my lower back, a backup on my ankle. Bandit and I both had invisible earpieces and wireless recording devices taped to our chests under hoodies and Kevlar, courtesy of our friends at the FBI. The expensive toys worked off cell phones. On the route to Flynn’s, we’d tested the spy gear with the FBI SWAT, and everything was a go on their end and ours.
Max sat on a shop stool in the corner, pegging me with a beady-eyed stare. Yeah, fuck you, too. He was probably the one who killed Melanie’s brother. I had to get that name out of my head. She was Nora to these fools.
Flynn leaned back in his chair with his feet on the desk. The cowboy boots were gone in deference to running shoes, his Stetson absent and replaced by a Rangers baseball cap. He took his hat off and scratched his head. I’d never seen him without a hat and raised my eyebrows in mild surprise at the thick tuft of hair atop his head. Since the back and sides were shaved, I’d assumed he was bald. I thought he might use hats as subterfuge. Without the lid, he looked much younger—more like his thirty-three years.