by Leigh, Lora
Johnny, his first in command, stood to the side as they both stared at Hector and waited for the dickhead to answer.
Hector’s eyes shifted from Edward to Johnny and back. “Larry went in alone, Mike waited in the car.”
Fury burned so hot in Edward’s chest that he found it difficult to breathe. “Who killed him?”
“Mike said some guy showed up. Mike thought he might have been a cop.” Hector’s leg bounced, betraying his nervousness.
Don’t shoot the fucking messenger, Carter. Edward ground his teeth. “Where was Mike?”
Hector licked his lips. “When he heard sirens, he thought he should get the car outta there before the cops arrived.”
“And he left Larry.” Edward clenched his fists so hard his arms shook. “Where is Mike?”
With a nod Hector indicated the doorway. “In the other room.”
“Get him in here,” Edward said in a snarl.
Hector turned and scuttled out the door. His shoes left impressions in the plush burgundy carpeting.
Edward sucked in his breath and reached for a round paperweight on an end table. It was one of his favorites. Inside the clear weight was a scorpion with its tail curled over its head, poised to strike.
Edward tossed the ball up, then caught it. Up. Down. Up. Down. The ball made a loud smacking sound every time it hit his palm. The sting of it striking his palm again and again and again made everything seem more real.
Mike came in, his eyes downcast.
Edward approached Mike. “You left Larry when the cops showed up.” Still tossing the paperweight up and down, Edward walked around Mike.
“I thought I should get the car out of there.” Mike continued to stare at the carpet. “Knew you wouldn’t want the cops to get a hold of it.”
“Why would I give a shit about a car that can’t be traced back to me?” Edward’s arm shook from the rage building inside him. He stopped tossing the paperweight and gripped it in his fist. “You were Larry’s backup. Your job was to kill her and get out. You sat in the car and left when you should have made sure the target was dead.”
“I figured he’d take her out. Just a woman.” Mike’s chest rose and fell with the rapidness of his breathing. “I didn’t know he’d get nailed. Figured he’d kill the bitch and get out.”
“You’re a fucking coward, Mike.” Edward clenched the paperweight tighter. “You will die a coward. I told you I wanted it handled right.
“How do you fuck something like this up?” Edward went on. “I can’t trust you. And you wanted to be in with us full time? We had a way of communicating so it wouldn’t be traced back to me. It was a simple job to prove yourself and you screw up the job. Then you came right over here to my home. You want to lead the cops right here? What the fuck were you thinking? I don’t want anything leading back to me, you moron.”
“Please—” Mike started.
Edward brought the paperweight down hard on the back of Mike’s head. A satisfying crack and Mike went down.
With the strike he pictured that bitch, Keri. She’d ruined his life for the past seven years. If it hadn’t been for her testimony, he wouldn’t have been in the joint like some animal.
Edward tossed the paperweight onto the carpet as he stood. “He’s that sloppy on this simple job, the cops would trace the car back to him and the coward would spill everything. That won’t happen now, will it?” He stared at Hector, the desire to beat the punk to death raging inside him. But Hector hadn’t been the one to screw up. “Clean up the mess.”
“Yes, sir.” Hector’s voice shook. “Right away.”
Edward looked at Johnny. “Figure out a way to take that bitch and the cop out. I want them found and I want them to be history. I want to hear the plan before you do it. I don’t want mistakes next time. You see how well I handle people making mistakes that can ruin me.”
FIVE
YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE THE VOICES ONLY TALK TO ME.
Adam shook his head and leaned back in his chair in the Brooklyn Bagel Café as he looked at the saying on Olivia DeSantos’s black T-shirt. “And what voices are those?” he said to the former NYPD-officer-turned-private-investigator as she sat down in the chair opposite him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Olivia handed him a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of Edward Carter’s known hangouts; his three places of residence, including his new apartment in the city; and some of the key players in his drug business.”
She pointed to the name of a bar in Manhattan, Triumph. “That’s always been his favorite place, since the days before his jail stay, and where you can likely find him during the day. My source told me today’s a good day to do just that.”
Before Adam could get a word out, she extended another sheet. “As you know, the phone you found on the shooter was a prepaid job.” Adam took the paper as she continued talking. “The phone numbers you gave me—the last number called was to another prepaid cell phone in Manhattan.” She pointed to the information. “My sources show the phone call was taken while the receiver was in the vicinity of Carter’s penthouse.”
Adam nodded, impressed. Olivia went on before he could tell her so.
“Here’s the icing.” Olivia handed him the third and final piece of paper she’d been holding. “The shooter you identified this morning as Larry Cruz, a small-time drug dealer in Manhattan, has some distant ties to Carter, but ties nonetheless. Those links weren’t easy to find, but I tracked him down through another drug dealer and a snitch.”
Adam gave a low whistle of appreciation. “Olivia, I love you,” he said and Olivia raised her brows with an amused expression on her face. “I’m not even going to ask how you got all of this so fast.” Adam held the page and studied the information. “I gave the info to you, what, eight hours ago?”
“Seven,” Olivia said. “You owe me.”
He glanced at the sheet and back at her. “Big time. Maybe we can work out a payment plan. Just tell me what it will be.”
Olivia let her gaze drift over him. “Hmmm. Now that we don’t work together, Mr. Stud, maybe I have some ideas.”
Adam laughed. “Okay, okay, down girl.”
“I’m a little out there for you. Probably a lot more than you could or would want to handle anyway,” Olivia said with a teasing grin.
Adam leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what that means and I think it’s safer not to ask.”
“Ya wimp,” Olivia said. “Okay, back to business. What’s this information for?” She gestured to the page. “Whatever it is that I’m busting my ass on.”
Adam gave her a quick rundown on the case and on all the zeroes he’d come up with until now.
“You and a ballerina?” Olivia smirked. You’ve got the hots for little twinkle toes?”
He cleared his throat as he thought about Keri and hoped his face hadn’t just turned red. “It’s just a case, DeSantos.”
With another smirk she leaned back in her chair. “Riiiiiight.”
Adam hesitated, then went for it. “How’s Nyx?” He was surprised it didn’t hurt like it usually did to ask about her.
“She’s all right.” Olivia tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “Business is picking up, but it was a little slow for a couple of months after the last big case. Thank God.”
“Tell her I said hello,” he said quietly.
Olivia studied Adam with her dark eyes. Eyes that were far more insightful than anyone would realize before getting to know her. “You doing okay, Boyd?”
He nodded and realized he meant it when he said, “Yeah. I am.”
“Good.” She gave him a look that was completely serious, totally Olivia. She had a model’s good looks but a cop’s bulletproof attitude and mouth to go along with it. “I’d have to kick your ass if you were doing nothing but moping around.”
This time he held back a smile. “Oh, is that what you meant by a little out there? I’ll keep that in mind.”
Olivia pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “There are some odd things going on that I need to get back to at the office. No big deal, just strange.”
Adam stood. He was a full foot taller than Olivia. “Anything you need help with?”
“Nah.” Olivia zipped up her New York Mets sweat jacket. “Anything we deal with at the agency is strange. I’ll let Nyx know you said hi.”
“Thanks.” He knew Olivia was just teasing on the payment plan. She was too close to Nyx to cross that line with Adam, and Adam with her. Olivia was a harmless flirt, he thought, a fun harmless flirt. Adam watched Olivia weave her way through the café and through the door before he looked back down at the papers in his hand. He had a little more to go on now.
Adam folded the papers and tucked them into the inside pocket of his jacket.
At the thought of last night, he ground his teeth. He intended to have a talk with Carter.
After paying the tab, Adam headed over the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan. He used his NYPD placard to park in front of the Triumph bar.
Carter was a thug, but he was a “high class” thug. He had picked a relatively classy place to hang out in here. But then Carter had mingled with high society before. Everyone who knew him had been knocked on their asses that he had been tried for running a drug smuggling ring and had gone to prison.
It still amazed Adam that they were never able to nail Carter on a murder rap. The fifteen-year drug sentence without the possibility of parole had been at least some consolation, as he was to be gone for a long time. But now he was back on the streets. The thought made Adam’s gut tighten with anger.
Adam left behind the chill March breeze and entered the comfortable warmth of Triumph. Light was dim inside and he had to take a moment for his eyes to adjust.
With a cop’s trained eye, he ran his gaze over the room, cataloguing the layout and where the exits were. He evaluated every person in the bar with a glance, including one server, as well as one woman sitting alone while two men were side-by-side at the bar.
His interest was right there in the corner. Carter sat with three other men. And they were staring at him.
Adam strode over to where Carter was seated. The man acted nonchalant as he reclined in the booth. The way he toyed with his drink was the only indication that Adam could see that he might be agitated by Adam showing up in his favorite hangout.
Carter was nearing forty, had a head of thick blond hair and blue eyes. He was full of charm and charisma.
And as far as Adam was concerned, the man was an evil sonofabitch.
The weight of the Glock he carried was comfortable and welcome in Adam’s side holster as he reached Carter’s table. He kept his fingers relaxed, his arms limber and ready. There was no telling what a loose cannon like Carter might do.
“Detective Boyd.” Carter put one arm along the back of his booth. “Nice to see you after all this time. What’s it been, seven years? How’ve you been?”
Carter knew exactly how long it had been. He was just toying with Adam.
“I have a message for you.” Adam braced one hand on the booth’s cushioned back and leaned in to get into Carter’s personal space. “Stay away from Keri Holliday. And you’d better keep your distance from me if you don’t want to find your head stuffed up your ass.”
The other three men at the table stirred like they were ready to jump to Carter’s defense.
“Threats.” Carter raised his hand, motioning to his men to stay down. “I get out of prison where I was wrongly incarcerated, and now I get threats from the dick who helped put me there. Incredible.”
Adam had so much he wanted to say to Carter, but he bit his tongue. Literally.
“Anything else, Detective?” Carter asked with a smirk. “You enjoying threatening an innocent man?”
“Innocent my ass.” Adam straightened, his glare fixed on Carter. He was entirely aware of the other men at the booth, judging whether or not they would be a problem as he spoke. “You sent someone after Keri last night and the bastard shot her.”
“Me?” Carter frowned and gave a pretty good expression of innocence. “Keri was shot? And you’re accusing me of being responsible?”
Adam had to fight to keep from showing his tension, his anger. Instead he kept loose and ready for any move any one of the four men might make.
“The man you sent after Ms. Holliday had a phone on him,” Adam said.
“So?” Carter shrugged. “Everyone and their mother carries a phone.”
“A call was placed to that phone from near your location last night shortly before the attempt was made on Ms. Holliday’s life.” Adam studied Carter, watching him for some telltale twitch or micro expression that would confirm Adam’s statement.
“Yeah, sure it was, Detective. I don’t need your harassment,” Carter said. “If you had something on me you would be taking me in. You have nothing because I’ve done nothing.” Carter gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you go back out there and do something you’re good at, like arresting a jaywalker. Isn’t that what you’re in charge of these days? The jaywalker patrol.”
“I’m warning you, Carter,” Adam said as he thought about how satisfying it would be to take out the bastard. “Don’t touch Keri. Don’t call her. Don’t go near her.”
The man got to his feet and Adam squared off with him. Maybe Carter would lose control, give Adam an excuse to take him down.
Carter’s expression had gone dark. Adam had definitely pushed him to the point that he might actually do something that Carter would regret and Adam would enjoy.
“You fucking her, Detective?” Carter said. “Sounds to me like you are.”
Anger flashed inside Adam and he had to hold himself from going for Carter’s throat. “Better watch it, Carter.” Adam spoke in a low voice, keeping it controlled.
“Eddie.” One of the other men stood, this one pale with light brown hair and eyes. “You should get out of here. This dick isn’t worth it. You don’t want to end up back in the joint.”
“Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, Johnny,” Carter said without looking at the man.
Come on, Adam thought almost recklessly. Give me an excuse.
Carter’s scowl melted away into a laugh and he sat down. “Thanks for the afternoon entertainment, Detective. I bet we’ll see each other around.”
“You’d better hope not,” Adam said, then turned and headed back to the door and out into the chilly day. He climbed into his SUV, tossed the placard on the floorboard, then pulled his vehicle into traffic when there was an opening.
Adam knew what he’d done wasn’t the right approach. In fact, his boss would be pissed at what had just happened, but Adam didn’t care at the moment. He wanted this lowlife bastard to know the police were on him.
Time to check in on the ballerina.
SIX
Edward watched Detective Boyd leave the bar. The bastard didn’t seem to be worried that someone might gun him down from behind. Because that was exactly what he wanted to do. He felt it in every fiber of his being. With everything he had.
There was no doubt in his mind that the detective was fucking Keri. That thought alone sent heavy, hot, hard rage through every bone in his body.
Keri had been his.
“Not worth it,” Johnny repeated as the detective walked out of the bar. “Later.”
A growl climbed up Edward’s throat. Fury at the detective rose inside him like a storm. A storm that was about to turn into a hurricane that would destroy the detective.
He liked that analogy. Yes, he was a storm that would tear the detective apart. A little planning and the prick would be his.
“Shut up.” Edward glared at Johnny.
Everyone at his table shut their traps. Edward leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as he started to plan. Heard it before. Don’t kill a cop ’cause they won’t stop until they get you. Well, he had gotten away with it befo
re. It really didn’t concern him. He’d screw with their minds first … then figure a way to kill them both.
SEVEN
Keri woke, groggy, having a hard time raising her eyelids and focusing. Her head ached and her arm throbbed. Her face and arms stung as if a cat had scratched her in multiple places.
She opened her eyes. It was dim, but she knew at once that she wasn’t in her own room. Nothing around her was familiar. Not the rustic-looking dresser or framed print on the wall at the foot of the bed. If she squinted, she could see a red fox in the middle of a snow-covered forest in the picture. She thought she caught a glimpse of a pair of Native Americans on horseback slipping through the forest.
Confusion made her head spin. Where was she? She tried to push herself up in bed, then cried out from pain that exploded in her arm and she flopped back down onto the pillow. Why did her arm hurt so badly?
She forced herself to calm down and she closed her eyes.
Like a slap, memories rushed at her.
A man. Chasing her. Shooting at her.
Pain erupting in her arm when one of his bullets hit home.
Fred going after the man.
Fred, shot.
She opened her eyes again and realized her heart rate had kicked up. Her skin prickled and she slowly drew in a breath and let it out.
Everything came back to her. Starting with Detective Adam Boyd giving her the news that Edward was out of jail. Her memories ended with the detective driving her to his home, taking her straight to his spare bedroom, and tucking her into the twin bed before turning off the light. She had been asleep before the door had fully closed.
She stared up at the plain white ceiling. Her arm hurt, but it was nothing like what she had been through with her knee all those years ago. The constant pain, the hours and hours of physical therapy.
A knock at the door jerked her attention toward it. The door was slightly ajar and Adam pushed it open.