One Bad Decision: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 10)

by Michael Anderle

  “Risk? What the hell are you talking about? Have I ever fucked you over?” Tyler scoffed. “Even once?”

  The informant snorted. “I don’t know what to think about you anymore. The word on the street is that you’re Brownstone’s bitch now. That you’re buddies. Brownstone ain’t exactly the friend of the man on the wrong side of the law. And what about Lars Hansen?”

  Fuck. Yeah, I’m tired of messing with Brownstone. After that bullshit the government put him through with his kid it’s like everyone’s against him, and he is a good business partner as long as I show him proper respect.

  Tyler snorted. “I make money off Brownstone, sure. Doesn’t mean any more than that.”

  “Just saying,” the informant muttered.

  “Brownstone’s like a hurricane. Unless you’re some Oriceran super-elf, you can’t fight a hurricane. All I’m trying to do is protect myself from the storm, and maybe make some money selling supplies and information to help protect other people from the storm. If you’re a dumbass and you get his attention, that’s on you, but I just want to point out, I didn’t sell Lars Hansen’s location to Brownstone. I called Hansen and offered to tell him where Brownstone was. Hansen knew the score. Even tried to ambush Brownstone. Not my fault he was more talk than walk.”

  The informant chuckled. “Whatever, man. Just make sure you give me my money. I suppose it don’t matter. In the end, you keep paying me, I don’t care whose bitch you are.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be paid the usual way.”

  “Talk to you later, Mr. Weathervane.” The informant hung up.

  Tyler tossed the phone into the trash. “Fuck you, asshole. I hope you dent Brownstone’s truck and he punts you through a wall.” He frowned. “Just not my wall.”

  Kathy walked over from the other end of the bar and eyed the trash. “A little wasteful.” The brunette bartender arched an eyebrow. “Since when do you throw away phones because you’re pissed?”

  “Not pissed, being careful. It’s a burner.” Tyler shook his head. “Since I have more money lately, no problem with paying for a little extra security. Only way to make sure we aren’t tapped. I’m trying to look into magical options, too. That’s what a proper businessman does: expands and protects his investments.”

  Kathy snickered. “Everything is tapped, or tapped out.” She patted a nearby keg. “Like this Guinness is all tapped out. What we really need now is less information-broker-slash-businessman and more strong man to go grab a new keg before the next rush of customers.”

  She glanced around the room. Even though no one was sitting at the bar, most of the tables were full.

  Tyler shrugged. “I’m a lover, not a fighter. Like I’m the strong man to grab a keg.”

  “Stronger than me.” Kathy snorted and shook her head. “With all that talk about Brownstone, maybe you should think about competing with him by hitting the gym. You know, lift a little.”

  “Damn, that was a low blow. Besides, I’m the boss, and you’re my employee, so you should be doing all the heavy lifting.”

  Kathy scoffed and crossed her arms. “I’m here to serve the customers, listen to their stories, and look hot so they drink more beer. Smelling sweaty ruins my tips.” She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I’m also supposed to be sweetly getting nice little tidbits of info for you. That way you don’t have to spend so much on burner phones and informants who piss you off. I’m the one who told you about that triad deal that was going on, and I know you made a nice chunk of change off selling that information. You going to wimp out on me now, Tyler?”

  He threw up a hand. “Fine. I’ll go get the damned keg. Keep your panties on.”

  The bartender threw up the hinged gate and stormed toward the hallway leading to the storage room, bathrooms, and his office.

  “I need to hire more ditzy chicks as support staff, not ones who are smart enough to come up with counterarguments,” he mumbled under his breath. “Instead, my employee’s making me do all the hard work.”

  The bartender moved into the storeroom, located a keg of Guinness, and thanked whoever was in charge of the universe for having the foresight to already have it on a dolly.

  “Maybe I could hire a couple of big guys. Nah, that won’t work. Then I’ll just look weak because I have these big guys around all the time, and they’ll cost extra money.”

  Tyler grabbed the dolly, and with a grunt angled the dolly and keg back. The bartender rolled the dolly out of the storeroom and headed back into the main bar.

  A new customer, some guy with too-slick hair and a Hawaiian shirt, sat at the bar.

  Kathy leaned over the bar, offering the customer a bright smile. Even though she wore a silk vest and a button-up shirt like Tyler that didn’t allow for the display of cleavage, there was more than enough femininity in the brunette’s beautiful face to charm a man.

  The customer sighed. “Can’t you narrow it down for me? You’re the bartender. You’re supposed to know this stuff.”

  She fluttered her eyelashes. “You know, even though I’m a bartender, I don’t like recommending a particular drink until I really know a customer. Everyone has their own tastes, and until I’ve seen how they react to different beers, I can’t call it.”

  The customer looked at the bottles and kegs behind her. “You really think it’d help if I ordered three different beers?”

  “You’re at a bar. The point is to drink booze, right?”

  “Okay, give me the three you just mentioned, then.”

  Kathy stood and grabbed a glass. “Right away, sir.”

  Tyler pushed the keg over to the bar and flipped up the hinge.

  She just got some guy to buy three beers at once by smiling at him and looking pretty. If it weren’t for my Brownstone bets, this place would still be a dump. I had a hard time getting guys to buy three beers a night.

  Tyler shook his head and moved over to disconnect and pull the old keg out.

  I should probably make her the manager. Hire more girls under her, and just sit in the back and do my info broker thing.

  He stopped fiddling with the keg for a moment.

  Nah, I’m too cheap. That was why I ended up firing all those waitresses and just keeping Kathy.

  Tyler looked at the woman. He hoped she never figured out that she could probably start her own place and make a killing.

  6

  Shay waved to Lieutenant Hall from the steps leading into the museum. The cop still wasn’t in uniform, but she did have a badge clipped to her belt and a gun in a holster underneath her jacket.

  The AET cop caught up to her and looked around. “Okay, you said security is shitty. Let’s take it from the beginning.” She pulled out her phone to tap in notes.

  The tomb raider smiled. “First of all, look at the sky. What do you see?”

  Lieutenant Hall looked up. “Uh, clouds? Buildings in the distance?”

  “More to the point, what don’t you see?”

  The cop shrugged. “I don’t know. What am I not seeing?”

  Shay nodded toward the door and walked that way. “Just saying, if I had rare and valuable artifacts, I’d at least have a few surveillance drones up.” She pointed to several camera locations. “Even when they change their angle, they aren’t 360 degrees.” She cleared her throat. “Plus, they have minimal coverage on the roof.”

  Lieutenant Hall stared at Shay. “And how the hell do you know that?”

  Probably don’t want to tell her because I parkoured onto the roof, and I have a world-class hacker on staff.

  “You’d be surprised at the kind of things you pick up when you’re tomb raiding. One thing is a good appreciation for geometry to lines of sight.”

  “Tomb raiding?” The cop gave a cool once over. “Or when you’re doing other…more illegal things?”

  They locked eyes for a moment. The lieutenant was aware of Shay’s past life as a killer. She’d said as much to her face, but she’d also told Sh
ay she was willing to let the past stay buried. The tomb raider only hoped that was true.

  Lieutenant Hall sighed. “Look, I do need something to put in my notes as an explanation of your expertise.”

  “Just cite theoretical insufficiencies based on my academic review of tomb raids.” Shay winked and opened the door. She gestured the cop through. “Problem number two. Note they only have internal armed protection. There’s also no bulletproof booth or anything from which a security guard can return fire. Guns won’t mean shit if someone comes in and lays them out with a gun or just blows them up.” She gestured toward a guard in the distance. “And they’re relying on security by obscurity.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Those anti-magic deflectors are fakes. They’re trying to intimidate mages into being scared, but one quick spell will verify the truth.”

  Maria snorted. “I thought they looked weird.”

  Shay tapped on the glass of the door. “This isn’t bulletproof, and it’s also not truck-proof. If the bad guys knew where to search, they could ram through here and charge straight to the artifacts in under a minute. LAPD will scramble fast, but they aren’t going to get here in a couple of minutes.”

  Maria frowned and nodded.

  They moved forward and showed their ticket stubs to the employee at the counter. They continued walking and entered the line for the artifacts.

  Shay leaned in to whisper, “This isn’t a real chokepoint, especially since it’s got no line of sight on most of the lobby. That means the bad guys enter armed, rush to the wall, spin around, fire, and they’ve killed the guards.” She gestured at the ceiling. “I don’t see any grates that might come down, so once the bad guys waste the arrogant-ass security in the front, they can stroll in here like nothing.”

  The lieutenant tapped the notes into her phone. “Fuck, I didn’t even think of that.”

  Shay nodded toward a guard standing where the hallway turned. “He’s got his back, not to the wall, but to the hallway. That means, if anyone gets past him—like some hot chick pretending to be a tourist—she can take him out from behind before he knows what’s going on. At least the guy in the chair has his back to the wall.”

  There wasn’t much of a line, so they walked straight to the metal detector.

  Maria approached the metal detector and pulled out her badge and ID card.

  The guard frowned. “Oh, Lieutenant Hall. Mr. Preston isn’t here, but he told us you might stop by. I didn’t realize who you were earlier.”

  “Just doing a quick inspection. You shouldn’t have anything to worry about if your security is as good as he claimed.”

  He waved her through. The detector beeped, but her firearm was obvious.

  Shay stepped through. She hadn’t brought her gun, fortunately.

  Lieutenant Hall nodded toward Shay. “And she’s with me.”

  The guard narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t tell Mr. Preston about any undercover officers.”

  Shay almost laughed at the mistake. She wasn’t sure if it were more ridiculous than the idea that an ex-killer-turned-tomb-raider was now helping a cop who’d had it in for her boyfriend until very recently.

  Lieutenant Hall shrugged and winked at Shay. “Too bad. Come on, Officer Carson.”

  The tomb raider smirked as they headed toward the exhibit hall.

  Shay pointed to a few windows in the hallway. “Sure, nice natural light, but what good does it do to set up their internal checkpoint when any fool could take out those windows? No bars. Maybe bulletproof, but that doesn’t mean they can take an RPG, a rocket, or a fireball.”

  The cop winced. “Damn.”

  The other woman turned and shrugged. “You’re AET, not a standard cop, which means you’re worried about some sort of King Pyro-style asshole showing up—or a Tessa Vansant. Do you think the security you’ve seen would stop either of those two for more than a few seconds?”

  Lieutenant Hall shook her head. “Nope. I don’t.” She sighed. “Let’s continue checking the exhibit hall and then the rest of the museum.”

  The museum staffer looked between the two women and frowned. “I apologize, Lieutenant Hall, but I need to inform you that we’re closing soon.”

  They’d lost track of time after exploring the rest of the museum, instead falling into idle personal chatter.

  She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Somebody came and told us that a few minutes ago. We’re enjoying your lovely lobby for the moment. Thank you.”

  The staffer frowned, clearly unsure how to best handle the stubborn police officer. He sighed and spun on his heel to storm off.

  Shay snickered. “You’re gonna piss them off, you know.”

  “Big fucking deal. They already pissed me off.” Maria shook her head. “So were you serious? Brownstone is that crappy at understanding women?”

  She nodded. “You have to understand, the guy can kick anyone’s ass, but the minute a woman or a girl starts crying he doesn’t know what to do at all. It’s like all of his brain is focused only on how to shoot people and make barbeque.”

  The cop snorted. “He sounds like a lot of other guys I know. You might think I’m a bitch sometimes, but I have to be to keep the knuckleheads I work with in line. I don’t care what people say, it’s still hard to be a woman in uniform, especially in something like AET. Half the guys are adrenaline junkies who want to prove how tough they are, and I’m lucky it’s only half.”

  Shay shrugged. “What can you do, Lieutenant? Men need to be men.”

  “Maria,” the cop responded. “Just call me Maria.”

  “Okay, if you want.” The tomb raider eyed her, a hint of suspicion in her gaze. “By the way, what’s up with you and Tyler?”

  The cop spun, her cheeks reddening. “He’s got his good points.”

  “Just saying, the criminal and the cop?”

  “He’s barely a criminal.” Maria peered at Shay. “And I figure you’re probably a more unlikely woman to end up with the country’s most famous bounty hunter.”

  “Touché, Maria. Touché.”

  Shay had lost track of time again. The lobby lights had been dimmed, and no one else had shown up to complain.

  Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out. It was a text from James.

  How late?

  Late enough. Why?

  Okay, just so you know, having a meeting with Mack and Trey. Need to talk BBQ

  Shay snorted and texted back.

  Fine. I’m gonna go get my own dinner at some vegetarian place just to offset all the meat talk

  Your mouth to disappoint

  Shay rolled her eyes.

  “Problem?” Maria asked.

  Shay shook her head. “No. It’s just James obsessing over barbeque again. I mean, I’ve got a thing for thin-crust pizza, but it’s nowhere near as crazy as his thing with barbeque. He’s got so much barbeque lore stuck in his brain that just kissing him means I could never ever switch to being a vegetarian.”

  The cop snorted. “I guess there are worse vices.”

  A guard stepped around the corner with a frown on his face. “You’re still here?”

  Maria smirked and patted her badge. “What are you going to do, call the cops?”

  He looked her up and down as if trying to determine if her badge was fake. “Whatever. If anyone gets upset, I’m throwing you under the bus. I’ll let the other guys on duty know what’s going on. Don’t piss any of them off, and don’t, under any circumstances, go into the exhibit room. The wizard put up some sort of spell.”

  Maria rolled her eyes as the guard turned to saunter toward the hallway.

  An odd color reflecting off the top of a metal garbage can nearby caught Shay’s attention. She lifted her head. The air above shimmered a faint red.

  She’d been on enough tomb raids and run into enough strange magic to recognize a spell when she saw one. The guard yawned as he hit the hallway and then fell to the ground face first.

  Knew your fake anti-magic deflectors
wouldn’t work.

  Shay snatched Maria’s badge.

  “What the hell are you doing?” the cop barked.

  “Give me your gun, your wallet, and your phone. Trust me if you don’t want to die, and get on the floor fast!”

  The cop handed over everything, frowning, then dropped to the floor.

  Shay chucked the gun, badge, wallet, and phone across the room. They skittered underneath a vending machine. She then threw her purse behind a nearby garbage can.

  She dropped to the ground, hoping no one saw. Otherwise, sleep magic would be the least of her worries.

  7

  Trey leaned back on James’ couch, his hands behind his head. “I don’t know about this, big man. The Turf and Surf BBQ championship? The boys ain’t ready for that by a long shot. It’s like taking a high school team to the Superbowl.”

  Mack, on the other end of the couch, shook his head. “If we want to represent, we need to go to Del Mar and do just that. The top pitmasters are going to be at that cookoff. Just being there makes a big statement about what PFW is going to bring to the world of barbeque.”

  Trey frowned. “Won’t they just beat our asses?”

  “If we go in thinking we’re gonna lose, we’ll lose,” James replied from his recliner. “But I hear what you’re saying, and no, I don’t think the boys by themselves will be ready. They don’t have to be. Mack and I will take the lead this time, and they can just work support. The point is just for them to get experience in a competition setting. Barbeque is a lot like bounty hunting; you’ve got to keep training in all sorts of environments.” He grunted. “Some shit Sun Tzu can’t help you with. Barbeque is one of those things.”

  Trey nodded slowly. “Okay, okay, but how do we even get in? We don’t got a top rep for barbeque, so how do we score a slot?”

  Mack grinned. “The Brownstone name alone guaranteed us a slot. You think they are going to say no to our boy over there?”