by Martha Carr
He strutted down the sidewalk with a crooked smile, nodded to pedestrians who passed him, and hummed his made-up tune. Helluva day. It’s only gonna get better.
When he stepped inside the café, he went straight to the order counter and cleared his throat.
“Good morning. Welcome to—”
“Tell me straight, bud, ’cause I ain’t fixin’ to beat around the bush this mornin’. Can you say y’all got the best coffee in the area?”
The barista chuckled and glanced at the sacks of unground beans lining the counter in the back. “Well, we like to think so, certainly.”
“That’s good enough for me. I want a large of your best roast—black. Then make one of whatever you think is the best coffee drink you can come up with. Somethin’ special, ya hear?”
“Got it.” The barista rang up the beverages and glanced at the dwarf. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. Y’all got a fancy pastry plate or somethin’?”
“Not exactly. But feel free to choose from our pastry selection over here—”
“Naw, get me one of everythin’.” Johnny sniffed and nodded at the man. “I ain’t playin’.”
“You got it.” The man added the cost to the register, then paused. “You’re Johnny Walker, right? The bounty hunter with that—”
“With the damn show startin’ again in Baltimore? You bet. That’s me. I tell you what, bud, it’s a helluva day to be me.”
“I can tell.” Chuckling, the barista nodded. “I’ll go make your drinks. Then give me a few minutes to bag up the pastry order.”
“That’s fine. Take your time.” Johnny stuck his thumbs through his belt loops and glanced around the café, whistling and bouncing on the toes of his boots. Helluva day.
Lisa rolled out of bed at 6:30 am and smiled. Something tells me it’ll be a good day.
She spent a few minutes in the bathroom brushing her teeth and washing her face, then pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and grinned. Remembering the night before made her laugh at her reflection. Well, it could’ve gone worse. Not bad for a first move, Breyer.
As soon as she’d finished getting dressed and strapped her shoulder holster on beneath a light jacket, a low buzz came from her nightstand. She turned a lazy smile toward it but it disappeared when she saw the burner phone turning slowly on the table with the incoming call. “Shit.”
She leapt toward the table, snatched the phone up, and answered. “Hello?”
“He wants to meet you tonight,” Kellen said, his voice low and scratchy. “And he’s got someone on the way to the Sagamore Pendry right now with a package. It has all the instructions you’ll need to get the job done.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Where do I pick this package up?”
“Right outside. The runner should be there in the next five minutes if he isn’t already. In a red baseball cap.”
“Sure. I’ll go down and look for him.”
“Good. I want verbal confirmation from you and the runner that you received the package alone.”
“So I’ll call you back at this number when I have it—”
“No,” the shifter practically barked at her. “Stay on the phone the whole time. And get your ass downstairs right now.”
“Yeah, okay. Let me get my shoes on at least.”
She pulled up her Stephanie illusion and stepped into her sneakers. Shit. I can’t tell Johnny or they’ll know. I’ll go down and get the package, bring it back, and we can go through it together. No big deal.
She slipped out of her hotel room, grateful for the fact that Phil and his incessant badgering hadn’t yet started for the day. “I’m walking down the hall.”
“Keep talking,” Kellen grumbled.
She narrated her ride down the elevator to the first floor, her walk across the lobby not yet busy with the usual breakfast rush in the restaurant or at the continental breakfast bar, and her exit through the hotel’s front doors. “Okay, I’m standing out on the sidewalk.”
“Do you see him yet?”
“No.”
“He shouldn’t be hard to miss, Stephanie—red baseball cap and gray shirt and carrying a large cardboard box.”
Lisa squinted against the brisk morning breeze and scanned the few pedestrians on the sidewalk. “Nothing yet. Are you sure you gave him the right hotel?”
“Don’t be smart with me, Light Elf. Stay where you are and keep talking. He’ll be there.”
The short whoop of a police siren down the street caught her attention, and the Baltimore PD vehicle moved slowly toward the hotel with intermittent flashes of red and blue lights. She turned away from the car and searched the other side of the street. Worst timing. We need to get this over with.
The car pulled to the curb in front of the Sagamore Pendry and Lisa. Both officers opened their doors and got out. “Ma’am? Is everything okay? You look a little lost.”
“I’m fine officer, thank you. Just waiting for a friend.”
“That’s a very early meetup in front of a hotel.”
“Well, we were supposed to go out for breakfast.” What the hell is going on? She tried to smile at the officers and scan the sidewalk at the same time.
“Uh-huh. What’s your name?”
Shit. The damn shifter can hear everything I say. She kept the phone pressed to her ear.
“What’s happening?” Kellen asked.
“A few officers passing by,” she replied with a tight smile. “I’m still waiting for you, by the way.”
“Who are you talking to?” the bearded Officer Brently asked.
“My friend.”
“Okay, well you’ll have to hang up and answer our question, ma’am. What’s your name?”
“Stephanie Wyndom.”
“Hang up the phone, Stephanie.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Kellen growled in her ear.
“I’m sorry, officers. I can’t.” Lisa glanced up and down the street as the officers approached her on the sidewalk. “My friend’s bad with directions. I have to—”
“Do you have any ID on you?” the bald officer asked. His name badge read McCormick in faded print.
Shit. “Um…no. I stepped out of my hotel room to meet my friend here, so I don’t have anything on me.”
His partner glanced down at the open front of her light jacket. “But you had time to strap on a firearm first. Do you have a permit for concealed carry?”
She met his gaze head-on. “Listen, this isn’t what you think—”
“This is exactly what we think,” McCormick interrupted. “Drop the phone and put your hands behind your head.”
“Officers…”
“You have an open warrant in Maryland state, Ms. Wyndom. Hands up. Now.”
Lisa glanced at the officers’ hands resting on the grips of their holstered service weapons. I can’t show them who I am. Kellen’s still listening to every goddamn word. “Okay. Okay. Dropping the phone.”
She did that, and the burner phone clacked against the sidewalk, still open with the call still connected to the Red Boar’s shifter mouthpiece.
“And I’m putting my hand behind my head.” Lisa raised her hands slowly. The minute her fingertips brushed her redheaded curls, Officer Brently stepped forward briskly and grabbed her wrists, a pair of handcuffs at the ready.
“Stephanie Wyndom, you are under arrest for grand larceny. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…”
She exhaled a heavy sigh and continued to scan the street for the damn messenger with the red baseball cap. There was no trace of him as the bearded officer led her toward the back of the police car and opened the door. There is no messenger with a stupid package, is there? Stephanie Wyndom doesn’t have any outstanding offenses or warrants either.
The other officer approached and drew her service pistol from its holster. “Get in.”
“You’re making a big mistake—”
“No mistake.” He shoved her roughly in
to the plastic back seat of the cop car. “This is our job. You made it very easy for us, honestly.”
He shut the door and both officers walked around the front of the squad car and got inside. In the passenger seat, the bald man studied her service weapon and typed the serial number into the small computer mounted on the dashboard.
“Really, Officers. I’m not who you think I am.”
“You’re exactly who we’re looking for. Most of the time, anonymous tips don’t exactly pan out. But I guess this is our lucky day.”
They got a tip? The fucking Red Boar bastard set me up!
“No, I’m serious. Look.” Lisa removed her Stephanie illusion and looked at each of the officers with a calm she certainly didn’t feel.
“Nice try, lady. We’ve got plenty of magicals in the precinct. You’re a Light Elf. You can make yourself look like anyone—”
“Half-Light Elf, actually. And I need you both to listen to me. There’s about to be an attack inside that hotel. Room 434—”
“Save your breath, Stephanie.”
“My name’s Lisa Breyer. I’m a federal agent with the FBI’s Bounty Hunter Division. I’m working a federal case right now, and I need you both to—”
“You said you were on the phone with a friend,” the bearded man said blandly.
“I was on the phone with the asshole who’s going to attack that hotel room! Because I’m undercover!”
His partner tapped the computer screen. “Well, we can add impersonating a federal agent to your rap sheet too.”
“What?”
“The firearm’s registered to Agent Lisa Breyer—”
“That’s because I am Lisa Breyer!”
“Ma’am, if you can’t calm down, we’ll have to take more severe measures to do it for you, understand?”
Brently shifted into drive and pulled onto the street.
“Jesus Christ. Listen to me. My badge number is 9740203. I’m in constant contact with Agent Tommy Nelson. He works for the Department of Monsters and Magicals. If you get in contact with him, he’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“Including why your alias has an open arrest warrant?” the other officer scoffed. “Now I’ve heard everything.”
“No, that was manufactured—recently. And not by our team. Stephanie Wyndom is an undercover alias. I know she checks out in the system, but that didn’t include any recent crimes or an open warrant. I’m on a federal case with Johnny Walker—”
“That bounty hunter dwarf?” He turned to look at her through the wire mesh separating the front of the vehicle from the back seat. “Yeah, I’ve watched some of those clips. You two look real tight on camera.”
“Because I’m his partner.” She grimaced at the bite of the cold steel handcuffs pressing against her wrists between her back and the hard plastic seat of the squad car. “You need to look into this right now. Call your precinct captain. Ask them to look into the bounty assigned for a Kilomea named Yarren Brork. That’s the federal case that brought us here, file number 834627B concerning Senator Richard Hugh. We were at his house only a few days ago. Run my badge number, huh? 9740203. With my ID number, 288843. How would a dumbass criminal with an open warrant for grand larceny know that off the top of her head?”
“Do I need to get out the taser?” he warned.
“Hold on.” The driver pulled over in the mostly empty parking lot of a convenience store on the corner and shifted into park, although he left the engine running.
“What are you doing?”
“I think we should look into this.”
“Marco, she’s a crazy-ass Light Elf trying to get out of an arrest.”
“Run the badge number.”
“Officers, I truly need you to let me out of these cuffs so I can get back to that hotel. There will be an attack, and I don’t think either of you wants this on your heads when it happens.”
“You sit tight, ma’am. If all this pans out, we’ll drive you to the hotel ourselves. But we can’t simply let you go on hearsay.”
“It’s not hearsay. It’s the truth!”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
McCormick twisted in the passenger seat and jerked his chin up at her. “You can either wait quietly with your wits about you, or I can come back there and tighten those cuffs. Your choice.”
“Fuck.” Lisa leaned back against the plastic seat and winced at the sharp pinch in her wrists within the handcuffs. Hurry the hell up. I was just played by the asshole even the FBI couldn’t bring down, and Johnny has no idea.
Chapter Twenty-Four
With a coffee caddy in one hand and a massive bag of assorted pastries tucked under the other arm, Johnny stepped out of the elevators on the fourth floor and grinned. It only took half an hour. She’s probably only now startin’ to roll over and wake up with no idea this dwarf brought a damn feast.
His whistle echoed around him as he hurried down the hall, and he chuckled when he stopped in front of Lisa’s hotel room. After switching the bag of pastries to under his other arm, he knocked briskly on the door. “It’s me. Johnny.”
There was no reply.
“Come on, darlin’. I know you’re an early riser. Open up, huh? I brought you somethin’.”
He waited for ten seconds and when he didn’t hear a sound on the other side of the door, he retrieved his phone from his back pocket and pulled up Lisa’s number. The line rang six times, then went straight to voicemail.
“Huh.” The dwarf turned and scanned the empty hallway. Maybe she had the same idea as I did. We must have missed each other on the way.
He crossed the hall and had to set everything down to pull his wallet out and flash his key card at the door to his suite. The green light blinked and he opened the door and propped it open with one boot while he gathered the drink caddy and the bag of pastries again. When he held them securely, he slipped inside and let the door click shut behind him.
“I’m back, boys. Hey, did y’all hear Lisa steppin’ out while I was gone?” Johnny placed the pastries on the half-wall of the kitchen beside his tranquilizer gun. “Boys? I swear, if I find y’all drinkin’ outta the toilet again, you’re fixin’ for a real talkin’ to after this.”
He set the drink caddy down too, peeled the lid off his black coffee, and took the to-go cup with him down the hall.
“Rex. Luther. What are you up to?”
When he received no reply, he felt a faint prickle of alarm.
Taking a tentative sip of his piping-hot coffee, Johnny walked down the hall with a frown and peered around the corner of the wall blocking the huge living area from view. “Whatever game you’re playin’, it’s time to cut it out. I need to—”
He froze in the entrance to the living area and took in the scene in a split second.
Both hounds lay sprawled on the floor in front of the massive armchair with its back to the wide windows. Neither of them moved but for the barest rise and fall of their bellies, and in the armchair sat the one magical Johnny would’ve recognized anywhere.
“Welcome back.” The Red Boar grinned and his gray, burn-marred skin drew tight around the corners of his mouth on his squashed face. He glanced at the pistol in his hand, which was already pointed casually at Johnny’s chest.
“What the fuck did you do to my hounds?”
“I didn’t want them to raise the alarm.” The intruder shrugged. “It was fairly easy to disable them when their master wasn’t around to shout commands.”
Johnny gritted his teeth and took inventory of the room. All I have on hand is a fuckin’ cup of coffee. He’s likely to blow my brains out before I can put a hand on my knife. Shit.
He cleared his throat and scowled at the huge, scarred magical in the armchair, which looked like it had been built specifically for an asshole of that size. “What do you want?”
“The first part’s very simple.” The Red Boar cocked his head, that twisted grin unwavering. “I want to know why you’re working again.”
“Huh.
If you’re waitin’ to hear me say I came outta retirement to bag your ass, you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“No. You had no idea who I was until we met face to face in New York.” The gray magical chuckled. “So what got you back in the game?”
“That job in New York. You merely happened to be the motherfucker who wanted a shifter girl badly enough to fight me for her. I happened to be better and faster.”
“I’ll give you that one, Johnny. Sure.” The armchair groaned beneath the Red Boar’s weight as he shifted and crossed one leg over the other. “That shifter girl doesn’t matter anymore. But why don’t you tell me why you’re hunting me, now.”
“Who said I was?”
“The look on your face. Which I wasn’t sure I’d see but now you’ve given me everything I need. The Level-Six Bounty Hunter, Johnny Walker the pissed-off dwarf, has some kind of personal vendetta, isn’t that right?”
Johnny studied the magical, then slowly took a sip of his coffee. He came here for a fuckin’ heart-to-heart. Sure. We can play all cards out on the table.
“All right. I want your head on a fuckin’ silver platter. Is that good enough for ya?”
“Because I tried to outbid everyone at that auction?” The Red Boar cocked his head and clicked his tongue. “It took me a while to get out from under that chandelier, but I hardly think one night at a Monsters Ball is enough of a reason for you to hate me so much.”
“No. That simply started the ball rollin’.” He glared at the huge magical’s oddly shaped face and glowing eyes. “You killed my little girl.”
“Oh…” The Red Boar clicked his tongue again and inclined his head slightly as if in thought. “There have been so many, Johnny. You’ll have to be a little more specific.”
“Dawn Walker. Twelve years old. In RedHero Comics on October 27th, 2005. Creed Vilguard and Prentiss Avalon. Your fuckin’ goons shot my daughter in the back of the head. Does that ring enough bells?”
“Sure.” The gray bastard chuckled. “But Vilguard and Avalon were caught, weren’t they? The shifter’s finger pulled the trigger, and he’s spent the last fifteen years behind bars—”