by Lori Ryan
“Christ,” John muttered. Time to get his head in the game. They were at the hospital to interview the victim in the most recent jewelry store robbery. He needed to stop thinking about Ava.
Easier said than done. He’d thought of nothing but her in the past few days. Sometimes, he had focused on her body and what he wanted to do to her; other times, he’d been thinking how he hoped she was telling the truth when she said she was happy with where she was in life. And, of course, there was the fact he’d felt the need to tell her about Lucia’s upcoming wedding.
That little tidbit had slipped out, and John couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been trying to prove something to Ava. Like maybe he felt the need for her to know he wasn’t still hung up on Lucia.
He didn’t want to analyze why he needed to show Ava that.
He jammed a finger on the elevator button after he and Eric checked in at the front desk and got the room number for the victim.
When they entered the elevator, and the doors slid shut, Eric spoke. “You want to talk about it?”
John gave him a blank look.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way.”
John sighed. When Eric got it into his head that there was something they needed to talk about, he’d needle John until he gave in. He was like a potholder-knitting, rocking-chair-riding, teetotaling granny that way.
“What is it you think I need to talk about?”
“I think that’s something only you can answer.”
John turned to his partner, hands on hips. “You’ve been watching those psychology videos again, haven’t you?”
Eric shrugged. “Cops have mental health challenges. Sue me for wanting to get a jump on things.”
They reached their floor and stepped out, moving down the hall to the nurse’s station. John introduced himself to one of the nurses on duty and asked her to show them into the victim’s room.
“From what we’ve heard of his injuries and the severity of the assault, I’m guessing he’ll feel better seeing a nurse enter the room first,” John explained.
The nurse nodded and led the way, entering a room close to the desk they’d just come from.
“Mr. Woods? I’ve got the police officers we were expecting here with me. Do you feel up to talking?”
An older man with pasty white skin and bandages covering much of his face lay in the bed. There was no other evidence of injuries, but John knew from talking to the doctor that he had several cracked ribs.
He and Eric moved to stand over the bed so the man wouldn’t need to move his head to see them. John wasn’t even sure that was possible. He had needed surgery to repair broken bones in his face. The hemorrhaged blood in the whites of his eyes was only one of the things that would take time to heal.
“Mr. Woods, I’m Eric Cantu and this is my partner, John Sevier. We’re with the Major Crimes Unit of the Dark Falls PD.”
“You don’t look like a Cantu,” the man said, his words slightly slurred as though talking was an effort. John was surprised to see the tips of his lips tilt as if he might smile. He probably couldn’t do more than that, but even that much was a good sign. Their victim was a fighter.
Eric laughed. “I get that a lot.”
John hadn’t known it before he partnered with Eric, but apparently Cantu was often thought of as a Mexican name. Eric was Italian and his looks broadcast that fact loud and clear. He’d explained that, at one time, Cantu was a common Italian name but now it wasn’t associated as much with Italians. It was surprising how often people brought that up when Eric was introduced.
John started the interview, wanting—needing—to get the guys who did this off the street. The amount of violence done to the man in front of him was something no one should have to go through.
“Mr. Woods, we’d like to ask you some questions about what happened yesterday, if you’re up to that.”
He lifted his arm where an IV needle was attached to a vein in the back of his hand. “They’re giving me the happy juice, but I’ll try.”
John nodded. “We’ll try to make this quick. We’ve talked to your coworker, Jordan, and we’re going to be getting video footage of the robbery.”
“Jordan is okay.” Mr. Woods didn’t seem to be asking a question, more confirming something he’d already been told.
“He’s shaken,” Eric said, “but he wasn’t hurt physically.”
“He’s a good kid,” Mr. Woods said.
“Mr. Woods,” John started, wanting to get what they could from him while he was awake and functioning. “Did you recognize any of your attackers? Did anything about them seem familiar?”
He had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to question him for long, so John skipped having the witness tell them all he could remember. He wanted to lead this conversation to see if they could get anything useful before Woods hit a wall and needed to sleep.
“Covered. Masks.”
John had been hoping they might have seen the suspects in the shop in the days leading up to the attack.
“How about their voices? Did anything about them seem familiar to you?”
Mr. Woods began to shake his head, then stopped with a harsh wince, his skin going even grayer, a sharp response to what was obviously a very painful movement. “No.”
The nurse was hovering, and John knew there wasn’t anything more they would get from the man just then.
“We don’t want to wear you out, Mr. Woods. We’ll let you rest. If you think of anything you want us to know, you can have one of the nurses get in touch with us. We’ll make sure they have our contact information.”
He mumbled a response, but John could see his eyes already closing. The man had a long and painful recovery ahead of him. It wasn’t a road John would wish on anyone.
Chapter Nine
Ava walked into the back of the store to find her dad sitting next to Janna at her workbench. He didn’t often come into the store anymore, having retired from the business years back. For a year or so after her mom died, Ava worried he might go downhill fast. He didn’t get out as much and seemed to have lost interest in doing anything. Then he started going to a senior center in town a couple of times a week, and that seemed to help.
He still took the bus there three or more days a week to play cards and hang out with the men he called “his buddies.”
“Dad, what are you doing here?” She brushed a kiss to his cheek.
He tipped his head toward Janna. “Just visiting my girl, here. And I thought I’d just be around for closing.”
Ava pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to say more. He must have heard about the assault on the jewelry store employee in the latest robbery.
“Can you give me a hand out in the showroom with one of the displays? I could use your advice on the best way to highlight a few of the new bracelets Janna made.”
Her father nodded, most likely seeing through the ruse. So long as Janna didn’t see through it, they’d be okay. Janna was anxious enough about the world without knowing there was a threat that was hitting closer to home than usual.
He followed her out to the showroom where Carlyle, their only full-time employee, was cleaning some of the glass cases. It was close to closing time, and they likely wouldn’t have a lot of customers between now and then.
“Dad,” Ava said, turning away from Carlyle and speaking under her breath. “You know the robberies are targeting smaller stores? They likely won’t target a store with a guard present and an alarm system.”
“You sound like you know a lot about these robberies.”
She could feel her cheeks flush, though she didn’t know why.
“A friend of mine is on the police force. He came by to make sure we had a good security system in place.”
“He?” Her dad’s brows went up. There was a time in high school when he would have been all over any guy who wanted to date her. Right now, her dad didn’t have protection etched on his face. He looked hopeful. That said something about Ava’s love life, or
lack thereof. Her own dad looked ready to push her on the first man she’d mentioned in God knew how long.
She raised her hand, palm out to put a stop to any ideas he was getting. “We’re old friends. Nothing more.”
“Why haven’t I heard of this old friend?”
Ava shrugged. “We dated in college.”
Her dad’s face clouded. He always regretted the fact she’d left college to come home after his heart attack. He had tried a number of times to get her to go back, telling her she needed to experience college instead taking care of an old man while she got her degree online.
She hadn’t agreed and the point was moot now. She was well past the age when she wanted to go back to college on campus.
“Are you dating now?”
She huffed out a laugh. “I thought the nothing more part covered that. We’re not dating. Just friends.”
She ignored the part of her that wished like hell that wasn’t true. John had made it clear he wouldn’t marry again.
Who says you need marriage?
The little voice in her head wasn’t necessarily wrong. Yes, she wanted marriage and a family of her own someday, but with the amount of time she put into the store and taking care of her dad and her sister, was that really realistic?
Would a man ever understand that she might need to drop everything to run and help Janna if her sister was having a bad night? Or that she might need to sleep up at the main house some nights? Or that she would never feel comfortable moving out of her small converted garage house because she couldn’t stand the idea of moving away from Janna and her dad?
She shook her head, clearing out the thoughts clinging there. “Anyway, John said they’re targeting small shops in lower end parts of town. We’re probably safe from this.”
Her dad nodded. “Just in case, I’m going to start spending time here toward closing time. We can tell Janna I’m getting lonely at the house.”
All the robberies had taken place at the end of the day. Ava would guess it had to do with having a full register, although that was a little silly when she thought about it. Most of their business was credit cards nowadays. Maybe they were hitting shops then because there were fewer customers to worry about.
She hugged her dad. “Okay, you sit with Janna, and I’ll help Carlyle close up out here.” She nodded to where one of their guards was standing by the door. “Marco will walk us all out when we’re ready to go.”
He went back to the workroom, leaving Ava to finish closing out the register and shutting things down for the night. It was too bad she couldn’t shut down the thoughts in her brain. She couldn’t stop thinking about John and whether he might be interested in something that was more than friendship but less than headed-toward-marriage. Because she suddenly very much wanted something less than headed-toward-marriage with him.
Chapter Ten
Corey shuffled to a stop next to Adam, wishing like hell he’d thought to bring a jacket. People always talked about Colorado being a dry cold, like that somehow made a dick’s worth of difference.
He didn’t get what the fuck they were talking about. The cold cut through his shirt, licking the heat from him. They’d been here a year, and he still hated the butt cold of Colorado.
The cold wasn’t slowing down the traffic in the Brewery, a two-block area that had once housed a large brewery for a local beer and was now a retail center and office space. The center of the space was a green park with splash pad and benches. Restaurants and shops drew people here almost every day of the week. It was something they’d counted on when they opened their business here. Unfortunately, it also meant the rent was sky-high and things weren’t panning out the way they’d thought they would.
“It’s fucking cold, Adam. Why the hell are we standing out here?” Corey kicked at the lamppost Adam leaned against. The fucking lampposts lined all the sidewalks around the Brewery, supposedly part of the charm that made the rent in the place so high.
“We should be hitting places like that,” Adam said, jerking his head in the direction of McNair Jewelers. It was one of the shops that had turned them down when they first came to the area, trying to drum up business. They’d thought for sure the retail owners in the area would use their services since they were renting an office in the complex.
The lady who owned the jewelry store had been real nice when they went in and gave her a proposal. Still, she’d said the store didn’t need their services.
He could see her now, through the glass, smiling at the woman who sometimes guarded the place. That was the trouble with stores like this. They had guards and cameras, panic alarms. All kinds of security.
A sickening dread filled his stomach as he pictured Adam slamming her into a glass case the way he had with the old man at their last job. Nausea swamped him. She was a nice lady. She didn’t deserve that.
Neither had the old guy. It wasn’t the first time Corey had thought that. He hadn’t been able to erase the images of that man’s head slamming into the glass and metal frame of the display case. The sound played in his ears again and again when he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that sound. The look of shock when Adam grabbed him by the hair and began to beat him.
Corey shot a look around them, but no one seemed to have heard Adam. And if they thought it was odd that Adam was staring at the storefront like he might walk in and hold it up right then, they didn’t say anything. Still, Corey didn’t like the way the conversation was going, and it had only just started.
Lately, that feeling of spiders walking across the back of his neck hit him whenever he talked to Adam. He didn’t know what Adam was on, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. And the guy showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. He’d gone past the occasional pot they all smoked and was dipping into something hardcore. He was on something more often than not nowadays. It was making him do stupid shit that was going to get them caught.
Corey wanted things to stay the way they were. He liked plans and rules. He liked knowing what was going to happen and when it would happen. They’d set up rules about what stores they would hit when they started this, and a shop like that one, right in their own backyard, sure as hell wasn’t it.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to stand up to Adam or have to choose who to side with if shit hit the fan.
He turned away from the shop, his head near Adam’s so no one would overhear them. “You know why we aren’t going after stores like that one. They have hidden cameras we might not spot right away to take out, alarms that actually work. That shit isn’t smart, Adam, and you know it. We need to be smart about this. Do what we set out to do. If we keep our heads down and stick with the plan, we’ll be done with this soon.”
He felt it when Adam spun on him, knocking into him as he walked away.
Corey followed, wanting to stay close so Adam wouldn’t start shouting God knows what across the crowded green. He hadn’t smelled pot on him or alcohol, but that didn’t mean Adam wasn’t on something.
“Adam, man, come on. Let’s go home.”
Adam turned on him again, this time coming toe-to-toe with Corey. His words were low and quiet, but the edge in them was unmistakable. “With the shit hauls we’re getting from these pissant places, we’ll never make enough money to keep our business going. We need to start thinking smart.”
They walked along the side of the old brewery building that now held a large restaurant and hotel. The sidewalk they were on led to a parking lot, but there wasn’t anyone on it at the moment.
Corey couldn’t help the half nervous laugh, half plea that came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to get into this with Adam. Why did he always laugh at times like this, when there wasn’t a damned thing to be laughing about? “Just, look, just…” he stopped in the middle of the alley and wrapped his right arm across his body, gripping his left shoulder. It was a move he’d made from the time he was a kid, any time his brothers lit into him. He dropped his arm, purposefully shaking off th
e defensive gesture. “Look, we just can’t do this, Adam. We have a plan. We need to stick with it.”
He looked back to where shoppers wandered as dogs and kids played on the lawn. “We’d be crazy to do something like the McNair place. It’s just crazy.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew they were wrong. Corey saw Adam’s jaw go tight at the word “crazy.” He raised his hands, trying to calm Adam, but Adam exploded. Spit gathered at the corner of his mouth as he came at Corey.
There were no words coming from Adam. Just guttural anger in the form of sounds that made up half words and sentences.
His fist crashed into Corey’s jaw, sending blinding pain searing up the side of his face, radiating out to his ear. Another blow landed on his shoulder and neck before Adam was gone. It was over in seconds, but it seemed longer as pain and a sickening nausea welled. It wasn’t so much that the punches had hurt—though they had—it was more that Corey knew what was coming. When Adam went off the rails like this, shit devolved quickly.
A few people on the green saw the altercation and shouted, headed for Corey, presumably to help him. He waved them off and took off, cutting through the parking lot in the opposite direction from Adam. He needed to warn Tommy and Josh that Adam was probably headed for them next, wanting to talk them into going after more high-end stores. Talk them into taking the kind of risks they shouldn’t be anywhere near.
Chapter Eleven
Four days went by without any new developments in the jewelry store robberies. They were looking through the little video footage they had to see if they could spot anyone in the days leading up to the robberies who looked like they might have been casing the store.
So far, they had nothing.
John took out his phone, getting ready to text Ava. He’d been resisting all week, but he wanted to see her again. Wanted it a hell of a lot more than he wanted to admit.
Lucia had called twice. Damn, he needed to take a minute to call her. He was being an ass, but every time he started to make the call, he was pulled away to a case or distracted by something. He’d call at lunch.
