by V. A. Dold
“Dang. I hate when he does that. The man has no clue how long it takes to do things around here.”
Jill snorted. “I’m not sure he actually works. I mean, have you ever seen him do anything but assign work for everyone else?”
Sheena frowned and sat back. “Now that you mention it, no.”
“Well, I better get cracking if I want to go home before midnight. I’ll talk to you later.”
As Jill walked away, Sheena called out, “Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
Just as she logged into her computer, her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her purse and answered before it went to voicemail. “Good morning, Mom.”
“Sheena! Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” She pulled the phone from her ear and held it at arm’s length. Even with that, her mother’s frantic voice could be heard loud and clear. “I’ve been calling since last night.”
Sheena pressed her fingers to her temples. “I was out last night and didn’t hear it. Why? What’s up?”
“You shouldn’t go out on a work night. I raised you better than that,” her mother admonished.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she nodded. “I know, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ve already talked to Jill about not doing it again. Is there a reason you’ve been calling? I really need to get back to work.”
“Of course, there’s a reason. You’re in danger. I had a bad feeling, so I pulled some tarot cards for you. The tower, ten of swords, and death came up. I think you should go home immediately and lock your doors until the danger passes.”
Sheena closed her eyes and silently sighed. “Momma, you know I can’t do that. I have a protection charm in my bag, and I’ll watch my back and go straight home after work, okay?”
“Baby girl—”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I have to go. Someone’s calling on the office line. I’ll talk to you later.” She ended the call and tossed her phone into her purse then dug around for her bottle of aspirin. It was going to be one of those days.
It was quitting time, and Sheena was more than ready to go home. She’d just pulled her purse from her desk when Jill walked into her office. Damn.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the boss man wants you to locate a missing shipment. I meant to tell you hours ago but forgot. He went on forever about three crates of napkins. You would have thought they were crates of gold bullion.”
“That sounds like him,” Sheena said as she pulled her phone from her purse and then put her bag back in the drawer. “And here I foolishly thought I would get out of here on time. I knew it was too good to be true. If you need me, call my cell phone, and if Mr. Comeaux checks up on us, tell him I’m looking for the renegade paper products.”
Jill laughed and shook her head. “You got it, girlfriend.”
Having located the runaway napkins, Sheena took her purse from her desk for the second time that day and rolled her shoulders. It had been a particularly trying day. The shipment of shrimp for the Stevens wedding reception arrived spoiled, and the head chef in the kitchen went on a rampage. Then all hell broke loose when a tourist went batshit crazy on the casino floor. Apparently, he lost everything he had to his name at the craps table and thought waving a gun around would get his money back.
She shook her head and sighed. Two years ago, when she’d taken the position of executive assistant to Dante Comeaux, she thought she’d hit the jackpot. The salary and benefits were great, and her boss didn’t micromanage her too badly.
The problem was, he failed to tell her she would have to deal with an insane chef and crazed gamblers. And that was just what happened today. When she had applied, she’d been shocked the position was available. Now she knew why no one wanted the job.
Thank God, it was Friday, and she had two entire days away from this madness. Shelly, her best friend from college, was in town and wanted to get together. After the day she’d had, she could use a nice meal and a cocktail. Sheena dug for her cell phone so she could tell Shelly she was on her way.
“What the heck?” She dug deeper, still no phone. Finally, she dumped the entire contents onto her desk. That was when she remembered her oh so fun and dusty search of the warehouse and receiving dock. She had been systematically checking labels on boxes when Shelly called. After she hung up, she must have set her phone down.
It looked like she was making a side trip to the receiving dock before she headed out to dinner. If she had known that retrieving her phone would turn her life on its head, she would have left it where it was.
Sheena stood in the elevator and cursed the slow-moving contraption. Maybe one of these days, her cheapskate employer would listen to her and have it updated to a newer model. The second the doors opened, she ran down the long hallway. She was about to round the corner to the loading dock when she heard raised, angry voices. Breathing heavily, she skidded to a stop behind the stack of pallets where she’d left her phone. Why was Dante down here, and who was he yelling at?
No one could see her crouched behind the boxes, but she could see and hear her boss and the men with a delivery truck through a small space between the stacks. The truck had backed into the bay, and the rear door was rolled open. What the hell! There were at least ten women and what looked like a couple of kids cowering beside a mountain of wooden crates. Was her boss dealing in illegal aliens? But if he was bringing people over the border, why would he bring them here?
Sheena concentrated on her phone atop the stack of boxes. Ever so slowly it rose a hairbreadth above the cardboard and floated toward her. Some days, her minor gift of telekinesis came in handy. As soon as the phone cleared the edge of the boxes she snagged it and opened the camera function. After she snapped a few photos, she started recording. She wanted to show this to Jill. Maybe her friend knew what was going on and could explain it to her.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Comeaux?” the larger of the two men asked anxiously.
Her boss clenched and unclenched his fists. “David, your job is to collect presentable women, pick up the guns, and deliver them to me in usable condition,” Dante barked. He grabbed the back of the man’s neck and shoved him into the back of the truck. “Do these pathetic creatures look or smell usable?”
David covered his nose and gagged to the point of throwing up.
Sheena watched as the quivering women huddled in a corner. That was when she realized a couple of them were lying on the floor, unmoving.
A breeze kicked up, wafting the stench from the truck around her. Sheena plugged her nose with one hand and held her phone in the other. From the foul odor permanently stuck in her nose, she knew these people had been in the truck for a long while.
Dante waved his arm at the human cargo. “I pay you to bring me fresh bitches, not street whores and junkies. What the hell do you expect me to do with that lot? None of them are acceptable for my client. Well, except for the kids. I can use them.”
David nodded and glanced at her boss before attempting to exit the truck. It appeared he avoided Dante as best he could, glancing at him repeatedly and flinching every time Dante made the tiniest move. It was clear that David was terrified of her boss.
“Get them out of there so I can get a better look. One or two may be salvageable.”
Sheena watched as David walked toward the women and children and her boss raised his head to looked off to his left. A car door slammed, and she heard Dante swear under his breath. Then he quickly collected himself and pasted a smile on his face.
She inched her way to the corner of the boxes and watched as a well-dressed man stepped into view. The expression on his face stopped her cold.
Even though he was somewhat attractive with thick black hair and a perfectly trimmed beard, his eyes were scary as hell. He was dressed to the nines. His Tom Ford suit and Salvatore Ferragamo shoes were worth more than her car. And except for the henchmen flanking him with shoulder holsters, he looked like any other wealthy businessman.
“Mr. Gambino, sir. I didn’t expect t
o see you today.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Which is why I’m here. After your less than satisfactory delivery last month, I decided to take a more hands-on interest in the business. From the stench of your cargo, I would say that I made the right decision. It appears you’re going to be late with my delivery. So, tell me. Who is responsible for disappointing me? Who do I need to kill?”
“David, who was in charge of collecting this shipment?”
“Jeremy,” David yelled from the darkness.
Dante scowled and yelled at the truck cab. “Jeremy, get your sorry ass out here.”
A scrawny young man came from the other side of the truck. He kept his head down, never making eye contact. “Yes, sir?”
Sheena watched in horror as Dante raised a gun and shot Jeremy in the head. She jerked back, as if she were the one hit by a bullet, and slapped a hand over her mouth to hold back the scream welling in her chest. He shot him! Dante just shot that man!
Shaking so hard her teeth rattled, she took a step back. She swallowed hard to force down the bile as her stomach rebelled. When she closed her eyes to block out the horror playing out only yards away, she saw the murder over and over in her mind.
A young girl of about fifteen stumbled from the dark interior toward Dante. Her shirt was soiled and torn, and the crotch of her jeans was stained with urine. She lurched to a stop with her arms wrapped around her protectively. Her gaze darted left and right as if looking for a path to freedom.
From twenty feet away, Sheena could see fear darkening the young girl’s eyes. For a moment, Sheena wondered where the girl was from. Were her parents looking for her, or had she lived alone and scared on the streets? No, she doubted they snatched her from the streets. The girl’s clothes weren’t those of a prostitute, and she didn’t have the physical appearance of someone strung out on drugs.
She had to do something. These people needed help. She couldn’t speak without giving herself away, so she dialed and then left the 911 operator to listen to what was happening and prayed they would be able to trace the call and pinpoint her location. With the police listening in, she returned to capturing the crime in progress. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm her shaking hands so the image would be clear when she played it back for the police.
David disappeared into the belly of the truck. Her intuition told her whatever happened next, she needed to capture on her phone. She checked the screen to verify she had the entire scene in view and waited.
“It’s show time. Move it,” David barked at the women and children.
“No! Don’t touch him,” a woman yelled.
Then Sheena heard a fist hitting flesh and a cry of pain. A moment later, David appeared. He held a struggling woman by her arm and the back of her neck, herding the captives like cattle. A little boy of about six cried and yanked with all his might, trying to free the woman who must be his mother. Both bore cuts and bruises on their faces and arms. And the woman had fresh blood dripping from her nose and busted lip.
“Hold it right there,” David snapped when they reached the edge of the truck doors. He shoved the woman he held to her knees and pushed the boy forward so the men could get a good look.
The women whimpered and sobbed. They clutched each other with tears streaming down their faces. The woman David held turned her head toward the boy and caught sight of her. Apparently, she wasn’t hidden as well as she’d thought. Sheena put a finger to her lips and shook her head. She gave Sheena a slight nod and turned away. Then she opened her mouth and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Help us! Someone help us. We’ve been kidnapped!”
“Silence her!” Mr. Comeaux shouted.
David pulled a gun with a silencer on the barrel from his waistband and pressed it the woman’s temple. A pop sounded, and gore splattered the wall. He dropped the body like it was trash and grabbed the boy before he could go to his mother.
Mr. Gambino scowled at the menagerie of humanity. “I told you unpresentable merchandise would not be accepted.”
“I understand, sir. If you give me a day or two, I’ll personally oversee replacing your order with exceptional product. I have a new supplier, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased with what I bring to you.”
Mr. Gambino stared at Dante for a moment and then nodded. “You have two days. You will bring me three additional whores for my trouble. This is your last chance. Don’t fail again.” Then he signaled his bodyguards forward and pointed at each woman or child one by one. With each gunshot, Sheena flinched. When he finished, only two women and three children drew breath. All of the others lay lifeless in a heap at David’s feet.
Mr. Gambino glanced at his men. “Put them in one van and have the crew transfer the guns into the other.” Then he turned to Dante. “These will keep you alive for another day.”
Sheena hadn’t seen any vans. But then, the truck blocked most of the open bay. The situation had gone from bad to horrifying, and the police were nowhere in sight. If she didn’t get out of there, she would be the next person to eat a bullet.
As she turned to tiptoe away, she bumped a stack of boxes and the top one teetered. She was silently thanking God it hadn’t toppled when the box tilted and began to fall. Before Sheena could call upon her telekinesis the box hit the floor with a resounding crash of broken glass.
“Hey! Someone’s in there,” David yelled and leapt from the bed of the truck.
She gasped and glanced behind her. Both Dante and David had their arms extended toward her, the afternoon sunshine glinting off of the barrels of their guns. She screamed and ran for the exit.
“Stop her,” Dante yelled.
Sheena jumped when the thump of a bullet struck an inch from her head. She raised her right arm and push energy behind her. The effect was a telekinetic wall. Then she burst through the doors and ran for the emergency exit next to the elevator. Bullets whistled past. Holes bloomed on the cinderblock wall where they embedded. With each shot, the bullets came closer until they ricocheted off her energy wall.
“Sheena! Damn it, David. Kill that bitch,” she heard Dante yell as she rushed from the building and into the street. She stumbled over the cracked sidewalk, unable to see in the suddenly blinding sunshine. Panic had her scrambling around the corner of the building and running for Canal Street. The more people she could find, the better. Dante wouldn’t dare shoot her in front of an audience. She thanked God for her sneakers. She would have been toast in her heels.
The noise from the traffic and throng of humanity grew louder with each step. Other than blending into the crowd, she didn’t have a plan or a final destination. She just kept running until she couldn’t take another step. Her lungs burned, and leg muscles screamed. Gasping for breath, she forced her legs to keep moving, watching over her shoulder for signs that Dante’s goon was following.
Sheena’s eyes grew wide. Shit! Was that David?
If it were possible, her heart would pound harder than it already was. A man with the same build and hair color as Dante’s lackey was weaving through the crowd. Every so often, she caught a glimpse of the man.
Suddenly, she crashed into a wall of muscle and froze. Large hands wrapped around both of her upper arms. Her first thought was Dante, or one of his men had caught her. Though she was weak and lightheaded from the use of magic and running, she struggled with all her might. She shoved him hard with a blast of Tk. The wall didn’t budge. The final use of her minor gift left her in Psychic burnout. She was so screwed.
“Whoa. What’s the rush?” a deep male voice asked.
She glanced at his face as she opened her mouth to scream. Relief flooded her body. It wasn’t Dante or one of his goons. She’d run smack dab into a police officer’s chest. A colossal police officer, to be exact. The man had to be several inches over six-foot tall, and his arms looked like he could bench press a dump truck.
“They’re—” She sucked in a breath and swallowed. Then she tried to explain again. “They’re after me. If they catch me, they
’ll kill me.”
She watched his expression darken as he scanned the pedestrians. “Who’s after you?”
“My boss and his goons,” she panted out. Then to her eternal horror, her legs buckled. She dropped to the sidewalk and landed at his feet.
His brows pulled together as he helped her to stand. “Why would your employer want to kill you?”
“I saw him murder over a dozen women and children.” She glanced back the way she’d come and squeaked. “Oh my God, there’s David!” She tried to pry her arm loose from his hold. “Let me go. I have to get out of here.”
The officer pulled his gun. “Point him out. I’ll handle him.”
“That guy. The one with the black crew cut and red T-shirt.”
He released her arm and stepped in front of her. “Stay behind me.”
Sheena grabbed the back of the officer’s shirt and did as she was told.
“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath.
She saw his head turn slightly toward the hands-free radio attached to his shoulder. He radioed dispatch and gave a detailed description of David and the direction he’d gone.
When he finished his report, he turned his attention back to her. “By the way, I’m officer Dupré.” With each syllable, sharp teeth flashed at the corners of his mouth.
Her brain refused to process what her eyes had seen. Instead, she wrung her hands and continued to stare down the sidewalk. “Thank you, for protecting me. I’m Sheena Savoy.”
She jumped when she felt a hand at the small of her back. “Come on. I need a full account of what happened.”
Three hours ago, she told her heroic officer exactly what she had seen in painstaking detail. Said officer promptly turned white and rushed to get a detective. Halfway through her second telling, the detective turned an unusual shade of gray and turned her over to his sergeant. Surprise, surprise. The instant she said Dante Comeaux’s and Gambino’s names, he cleared his throat and pulled at his necktie.
