by Sheila Kell
She peeked around the pile. A black SUV stopped at the other end of the warehouse. If they met near his SUV, she wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.
Dang it! She should’ve chanced the middle hiding place.
It was only a short wait before another black SUV arrived. Was this the company car of bad guys? She hoped the driver would park closer to her. He didn’t.
A heater would be nice. Her fingers and toes were cold. She should’ve worn two pair of gloves and two pair of socks. Biloxi weather would be appreciated.
She wondered how many would attend the meeting. She might get lucky and catch more than one boss. Megan smiled, fighting the stiff, cold muscles in her face. This would be worth it.
She willed them to step out of their SUVs so she could get clear photos of them. Their tinted windows prevented her from seeing them. Typical.
Full of anxiety, her hands shook and her heartbeat pounded so loudly she heard it in her ears, but in an exciting sort of way.
If she hadn’t had to park so far away, she’d follow the boss when he departed. It wouldn’t be wise. Opening an apiary without a beekeeping suit would be safer than following and confronting him for an interview. Trent would definitely kill her for that stunt. No, this had to be enough. A third black SUV arrived and parked between the other two vehicles. In an almost synchronized manner, the men stepped out into the cold. They stopped too far away for her to hear.
Again she wished she’d moved to the middle. She couldn’t risk it now. They’d see her. At least she’d get decent photos. Zoom was a wonderful invention.
She looked down to remove her right glove and unlocked the screen on her phone. She needed to buy gloves that allowed her to use the smart phone screen with them on her hands.
When she looked back up, she almost cried aloud. No! Two of the men had turned their backs to her before she could snap a photo of them.
They met in front of the middle vehicle. The guy facing her was the suspected boss she’d been looking for, the one in the photo. Finally.
She automatically snapped shots.
Long ago, she and Kevin created a game to help distinguish people they observed whose names were unknown. They made up funny nicknames instead of calling them man one, two and three.
The boss was the largest of the men. His shoulders were the broadest she’d ever seen. He stood taller than the others, maybe six four with a blond buzz cut. From her photo, she had been able to tell his nose had been broken more than once. She easily dubbed him ‘Ape Man’.
For the other two, she decided on ‘Sherlock’ and ‘Watson’. For no other reason than those names popped into her mind.
Even through the frustration of not being able to hear, she remembered to turn on the recorder option on her phone. What were they saying?
* * * * *
AJ needed his best bullshitting skills working for him today. He would not take the blame for Denzel’s capture. He had nothing to do with it. The stupid fucker.
He and Hank nodded at each other then turned to face Damian. They were forced to stand with their backs to where he had seen footprints off in the distance. AJ ensured his Beretta would be easily accessible. He didn’t need someone sneaking up behind him.
Fuck. He was an idiot for not asking for help. Even though his brothers didn’t approve of the life he’d chosen, they still would’ve been there for him had he asked.
“Boys.” Damian nodded at each of them.
“Damian,” AJ replied.
“Hey, boss,” Hank said.
“How are things with each of you?”
Not a good start. The man spoke very little and did not do small talk.
“We haven’t had anyone to beat up lately. Not since Keyshawn. My knuckles are getting soft.” Hank cracked them.
The chief enforcer turned to AJ. “Did you take care of our little problem?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I gave her the message.” He hoped she would give up on exposing the Magician. He didn’t want her to get punished.
He’d just met her, but felt protective of her along with an unfamiliar emotion that confused him. This couldn’t be happening now. The timing couldn’t be shittier.
“She’s a pain in our ass, just like her brother had been. If he hadn’t overheard what he had, we wouldn’t have had to kill him. Of course, if she gets too close, she might have an unfortunate accident.”
His heartbeat skipped. When had this been decided? He had to convince her to quit digging. Had to push Trent to stop her. No matter what she thought of him, AJ didn’t want to see her dead. He didn’t want that job.
“I guess you heard that Denzel was caught.”
“What? Denzel caught?” Hank asked, true surprise registered on his face. The man had no clue of current events.
Damian raised his eyebrows at the man.
“I heard it on the news. What happened?” Strung tight as a bow, AJ kept his voice calm and steady. His boss hadn’t shown his hand yet.
“Marshals showed up at the safe house. You boys wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
And there is was. Fuck.
“I know nothin’ about it. I didn’t know he got caught. I wouldn’t talk to no marshal. Honest boss.”
“Did he do something stupid?” AJ asked. It was possible Denzel broke the rules and went out in public early or someone could’ve ratted him out. No matter how it happened, someone would pay the price.
“No. We have another theory.”
“What?” Hank stupidly asked.
He wanted to slap the man on the back of his head to knock some sense into him. The idiot hadn’t figured out how precarious their situation had become. They were about to take the blame for someone’s traitorous behavior.
“You two boys are the only change we made when we busted him out. We’ve never had someone caught while under our protection.”
“We drove in Chicago like we were told. We didn’t drive him here, and we don’t know where the safe house is.” AJ knew, but he didn’t think this would be the right moment to provide Damian with that information.
“Yeah, we just drove, boss.” The enforcer visibly trembled. It must’ve finally occurred to Hank what was happening.
“It’s just curious that we make this one small change and have a major problem. Having a client caught before being on his own is bad for business, especially when the client is Denzel Wilkins.”
“Damian, I don’t know what you want to hear from us, but we don’t know anything about his being captured.” AJ knew it no longer mattered what they said. Damian wouldn’t believe them. The chances of getting out of here alive dwindled. If his boss didn’t kill him, his brothers would for doing this alone.
“There’s no other explanation. It’s because of you two that our latest client was caught.” Damian shouted loud enough to be heard in the next county.
“No, boss. We had nothin’ to do with it. Honest.” Hank’s voice trembled.
From behind his sunglasses, AJ closely observed the chief enforcer, sizing him up. He could take him even though the man had taller, wider shoulders, larger muscles and fifty pounds on him. It’d be like scrapping with his brothers. Only this would be to the death.
“Damian, Denzel had to have fucked up. We didn’t do a thing to lead U.S. marshals to his door. Again, we didn’t know where he was so how could we do it?”
“I don’t believe either of you! The question is whether it’s one of you or both of you who are to blame.”
“Boss, I had nothin’ to do with it. Believe me,” Hank pleaded.
“Damian, this is ludicrous. We’re loyal to you. We wouldn’t go behind your back and do something to hurt the organization.” AJ tried reasoning, but doubted it would help.
His boss looked at the man standing next to him. “Hank, I’d believe this type of
fuck-up of you. You aren’t always bright, and you run your mouth too much.”
He turned to AJ. “You, I wouldn’t believe it of. But one of you did it. Admit it, or both of you take the fall.”
“I didn’t do it, boss. I didn’t do it,” Hank swore fervently.
“Damian, you know I wouldn’t do this, we wouldn’t do this.”
Their time was at an end. The Magician had been embarrassed. Someone would be held accountable. They would be the ones to disappear this time.
Damian drew so fast that he caught AJ off-guard and squeezed off a shot before he could draw. AJ fired, not taking time to bring his Beretta all of the way up Damian’s body before his world went black.
* * * * *
Megan dropped her phone and a startled gasp escaped her lips. She reactively covered her mouth and stilled. A buzzing started in her ears, her heart raced faster than it ever had before. Had he heard her?
Holding his side, Ape Man raised his head in her direction.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Don’t come after me. Don’t come after me.
He looked down at the blood on his hands, turned and walked to his vehicle. His wound saved her. One of the men had shot him before he’d fallen to the ground.
Thank you, Sherlock.
She’d overheard bits of the conversation. She’d caught, “the F-word, captured, I don’t believe either of you.” There had been no mistaking Ape Man’s anger. But to kill them? She hadn’t expected that in her wildest dreams. Maybe she should’ve brought Trent after all.
He was going to wring her neck when he found out where she’d been and witnessed. So would her friends. Her neck ached thinking about all she’d have to endure when she returned to the office.
She waited a few minutes after the boss left before she dared move. She fell over in the slushy snow, her legs no longer supporting her in the crouched position. She’d just witnessed two men being murdered. The unfamiliar state of panic rose within her. What should she do? She needed to call 911. She peeked at the bodies, neither moved.
Her hands shook violently when she picked up her cell phone and wiped the snow from it. After three attempts, she finally typed her password in correctly. Suddenly, the journalist burst from her. What a story this will be! Her investigation had taken a dangerous turn. A boss exposed. A boss captured in the act of murder.
When they arrived, the police officers would confiscate her cell phone. Once she explained what happened, they’d know she had photos or video of the meeting. They definitely wouldn’t allow her to take photos of the dead bodies.
She nibbled on her lower lip, darting worried glances around. She should take photos now and send them to her email and then call the police. There was no hurry. Both men were dead. They couldn’t survive a shot to the chest at close range. She didn’t plan to let the police make her lose out on this exclusive.
She could do this. Maybe she couldn’t. But she needed to, if she wanted to get closer to her brother’s killer. That had to trump her fear.
Her mind made up, she stood on wobbly legs and then walked toward the bodies. She couldn’t believe they’d been murdered in cold blood. But they were criminals who did deadly things and murder happened to be one of them.
She knew enough about this organization to know anyone they perceived as a threat disappeared, which meant dead. If he was an important boss and she testified against him, she would be considered a major threat.
Would Trent be enough to protect her or would they place her in witness protection? There had to be another way. She wouldn’t run and hide. She had to continue this for Kevin. Trent would just need to hire those extra men he’d mentioned.
There was no more time to think about that. She had to take these photos, then call the police. Then she’d return one of the fifty calls Trent had made to her. He might arrive any minute if he tracked her cell phone. She wouldn’t put it past him.
Being around dead bodies began to creep her out. She raised her phone and snapped two photos with both men in the shot. They may have been bad guys, but they didn’t deserve to die like this, even though they’d probably done the same thing to other poor souls. Maybe even her brother. Did one killing justify another?
Stepping closer, she stopped five feet from Watson and snapped a photo. She wanted a close up of his face so she swallowed hard and stepped closer. She’d never seen a dead body. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She hoped his eyes weren’t open. That blank stare was eerie on television, and she couldn’t imagine how frightening it would be in real life. She shuddered thinking about it.
So much blood mixed in with the snow. She had to avoid stepping in it or the police would know what she’d done. How would she explain her footsteps to them? Would they believe she came over to check their pulses? To help them?
Before moving forward, she took two deep breaths attempting to control her erratic breathing and racing pulse.
Stopping near Watson’s shoulders, she snapped a photo of his face. Wait. She’d seen him before. He’d beat up Keyshawn. He was…wait a minute she knew his name. That’s right, Hank.
Oh no. Did that mean? She spun around, took a hesitant step closer to Sherlock. She gasped when she saw his face. It was him. AJ. He was dead. Noooo!
In spite of her best efforts, tears pooled in her eyes and tremors shook her hands as she snapped photos of him. He couldn’t be dead. Why did he have to be a bad guy? She couldn’t forget what had happened between them or how quickly his hands had warmed her blood.
She wanted to drop to her knees and cradle his face. She knew they’d never had a relationship or a chance to find out where the heat between them would have gone, but it hadn’t stopped her from dreaming. She had been connected with him on an elemental level. Her mouth pulled into a frown. An unexplained ache flooded her heart. What had he done to warrant his death?
Did it have to do with his visit to her? Was Hank supposed to be there with him? That thought soured her stomach. He’d have beaten her. Did AJ die because they’d been physical? Unfortunately she doubted she’d ever find out. The boss spilling the beans was doubtful.
She looked around the area. It was desolate and deserted. It was the perfect place for a murder.
Something seized her ankle in a tight grip. She gasped, dropped her phone, looked down and her heart seized. AJ pointed a gun at her.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he ground out.
She screamed, wishing she’d carried Trent’s panic button with her.
CHAPTER NINE
The excruciating pain that seared through his chest woke him along with the awareness of not being alone. How long had he been out? His clothing was damp from lying in the snow, and the cold had seeped into him.
AJ struggled with his breathing, his lungs protesting his attempt at taking a deep one. Son of a bitch! He’d been shot in the chest at point blank range. Thank God he’d worn his body armor. The one his brother called the best money could buy and then some. Thank you, Devon, for not being a frugal bastard.
His brothers. Shit. He needed help, but he couldn’t call them. They’d be beyond pissed at him. He’d really fucked up this time. Maybe they were right that he couldn’t take care of himself, couldn’t make the right decisions. They’d never said it aloud, but he knew they thought it. He blamed himself for what had happened with Jake and Emily and he knew they blamed him too.
No. He wouldn’t call them. He had to figure out what to do next because he couldn’t hang around here. He was supposed to be dead. If he stayed, he would be.
He peered through tiny slits of his open eyes behind his dislodged sunglasses.
It would’ve been easy to vanish before anyone was the wiser. But now he had a complication. A journalist named Megan.
He didn’t want to do it, but he had to. Could his life get any more fucked up?
He looked up at her wide fear-filled
eyes. That was the second time he’d caused that look on her face. He didn’t like it. He was a fucking asshole of the first degree. Right now, self-preservation was more important than her fear.
“What? Has the cat got your tongue? What the hell are you doing here? Are you alone?” He made an attempt to lift his head to look around. Huge mistake. It pulled at the painfully throbbing muscles in his chest.
It took several attempts for her to speak. “Y-You. You. I s-saw him shoo-shoot you. You’re de-dead.”
“What do you mean you saw him shoot me?” AJ groaned. “Dammit, Megan. Not again. When will you learn? This is a dangerous game you’re playing.” He waved his weapon. “Case in point. Where the hell is Trent?” Trent would be another complication, but she needed her bodyguard’s protection.
She didn’t get it. AJ could kill her right now. Was a headline so important to her, she didn’t care if she ended up dead? How the hell was he going to get her to drop this pursuit? Was revenge for her brother worth her own life?
He’d always hated reporters. They took stupid chances and usually spewed incorrect facts. People believed the stories they wrote, but missed the correction hidden within the paper the next day.
She made a frantic search of the area. “Let me go!”
Wasn’t this what she’d said at their last meeting? Their last meeting. Fuck! Could his cock really be twitching right now thinking of being buried deep inside her?
Enough about your small head. Use your big head to get out of this fucked up situation.
She twisted her ankle, attempting to wrench it from his tight grip. Her arms flailed out to her sides as she lost her balance and fell.
“I’ll let your ankle go, but I’m leaving my Beretta pointed at you. You just became my hostage.” He allowed his lips to curve into what he hoped was a sinister smile.
The stricken look on her face tugged at his heart. She feared him. That should be a good thing.
What was it about her? He led a rough and tough life. A live or die life. He’d done things she couldn’t even imagine. Things that still made him cringe. Yet, he wanted to protect her. To save her from herself and the foolish moves she kept making.
