by Leigh, Jo
He was silent for a while, then he said, “Sunland. The corner of Sunland and Tuxford. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”
“Great. It’s a Yellow Cab.” She hung up, and her heart sank with renewed sadness but she pushed it away. No more tears. She wouldn’t cry about Vince. He was no one, nothing to her. They’d had sex, that’s all. They’d both lied to each other to get what they wanted, period, the end. Too damn bad. Anything else was fantasy, and God knew, she couldn’t afford to stand anywhere but squarely in reality.
She had no idea how long it would take for the taxi to get there, but she figured she’d wait outside, near the hedges, just in case.
The last thing she had to get was her gun, which she pulled out from under the mattress. She’d become so familiar with it that making sure it was ready to rock was like brushing her teeth. One could get used to anything, in time.
She put on her coat, put her gun in her pocket, then pulled the box out of the closet. It wasn’t easy carrying everything at once, but she’d managed it before. With the box on top of the suitcase, she could still see, even though it was really heavy.
This, however, was the part she wished she could avoid. He’d have questions, excuses. It didn’t matter. Damn him. Straight to hell.
She opened the bedroom door, then picked up her big bundle. Halfway down the hall, she heard his footsteps, and then he was standing between her and leaving.
“Kate? What’s going on?”
“I have to go.”
“What? Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just have to go.”
“It’s too dangerous out there.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine.”
He walked closer to her, and made as if to take the box. She jerked around, sorry she couldn’t get to her gun. “Don’t.”
“Would you just stop a minute. What the hell’s going on?”
“I already told you. You have no right to keep me here, so get out of my way.”
“Kate.”
“Do it.”
He sighed, his eyes troubled and his hands curled in tight fists. “Look, I just wanted to help—”
“Get away from the door.”
“I—”
“Goddammit,” she said, her voice just under an outright scream. “Move.”
He did. He went into the living room, where her tea was still on the coffee table, where the books she’d packed were stacked against the wall. She wouldn’t look. Not at the kitchen or the bookcase or at him. She just went to the door, pressed her bundle against the wall so she could get to the knob, then she walked outside, not bothering to shut the door behind her.
The cab wasn’t there yet, so she walked to the side of the house where she found a nice dark spot. There, she put her things down in front of her and she waited, her right hand in her pocket, holding the Glock.
He didn’t come outside, but she knew he was watching. Not that she could see him, but of course he would. As he’d so recently reminded her, he was a detective. He had to uncover mysteries. She felt pretty damn sure he was going to follow her in the cab, too. But she also knew that Nate would lose him, and that they could replace the car’s license plate when they got to his place. Try as he might, Vince would never find her. She was one mystery he’d never solve. And that was fine with her.
She swallowed hard and stopped the tears in their tracks. He’d violated her trust. There was no question about that, no shading she could give that would explain it away. He’d fucked her, then fucked her over.
The sad thing was, she wasn’t surprised. Not really. It made some awful sense, given her life for the last few years. Betrayal seemed to be the central theme, with a soupçon of irony thrown in for color.
Why couldn’t he have just left it alone? She would have been gone tomorrow, and it would have been bittersweet, but okay. Not like this. This sucked. Sucked so bad.
* * * * *
The cab had turned on Sunland Boulevard, heading southwest. Vince had cursed himself for a fool for the last twenty minutes, but it didn’t make him feel one iota better.
Goddammit, he’d been trying to help. Not that it mattered. He’d blown it, and he’d blown it so successfully that there was no hope of getting her back. Emerson should fire him.
What he couldn’t figure out was where she was going. He knew nothing of her life, nothing about her past, so all he could do was follow her and hope to get lucky. He’d take anything at this point.
The worst part of it was that he didn’t just want her back because of Tim. The thought of never seeing her again was more unsettling than he cared to admit. He may have known her for only a few days, but something had clicked between them. He wasn’t the kind to have had that happen very often.
The cab turned onto another long stretch of lonely road, heading, he guessed, toward Sunland. There wasn’t much out here, not in this part of the city. Ranches, mostly, with only one restaurant, an occasional gas station. In the far distance there were more lights, but here it was dark and the wind had the sparse billboards swaying.
He had to keep his distance. Maybe she knew he was following, but, then again, she’d been so furious, she might not think it through. Doubtful, but he’d be careful nonetheless.
A car, a big boat of a Buick, pulled out of a dark side street between him and Kate’s cab. He switched lanes to pass, but the Buick picked up speed.
Not good. Pure cop’s instinct had him jam his foot on the gas as the Buick raced up on the taxi. Then the guns came out.
A semiautomatic from the backseat—it was the goddamn gang. He could see the shooter’s head, a black rag low down over the forehead. Crips, probably, but he was still too far back to see.
He got his gun out, pressed the safety off. Wished like hell he had a radio in this car.
The first shots hit the back of the cab, and he saw Kate go down. He didn’t know if she’d ducked or if she’d been shot. He kept his foot on the pedal and held on tight as he rammed the Buick.
Gunshots sprayed the front of his car, blowing right through the windshield. A bullet screamed so close to his ear it singed his hair.
He aimed into the backseat, firing just before he rammed the Buick a second time. His head jerked back and his right shoulder burned as another bullet slammed into his seat.
The cab had stopped, front wheels over the sidewalk, and the driver’s door swung open. Just as Vince was going to ram it again, more gunfire sprayed, only this time it was from the backseat of the cab. The Buick swerved crazily, then spun. He hit the back end of it, spinning both cars. He ended up next to the cab, while the Buick wrapped around a phone pole.
Vince jumped out of the car and ran toward Kate. Before he could get to her, another car came speeding down the road from the other direction.
Gunshots peppered the tar around his feet as he reached the back door of the cab. He jerked it open, terrified to see her lying in a pool of blood, but the way she was pointing a gun in his face told him she was all right. “It’s me.”
The gun dropped. “Get out of here,” she shouted. “Leave.”
“The hell I will,” he said. He turned to face the Buick, crouching behind the cab’s door. But the other car, the new one, drove in between the cab and the Buick, and someone jumped out of the passenger side, shooting into the Buick’s windshield.
The driver got out, shouting, but Vince couldn’t make out the words.
Who the hell were these guys? A rival gang? It didn’t matter. He had to get Kate out of there. “Come on. Move.” He reached for her, but she jerked back.
“Leave,” she said again, and then she opened the other door, pulled the box behind her and got out. Her suitcase was between them, and he shoved it out of his way.
He ducked as the back window shattered, as gunfire slammed into the trunk like rain. Someone screamed, and it was the sound of death.
More gunfire, only this time, it didn’t hit the cab. He sat up, looked back. There were three
people on the ground, all from the Buick. As Vince watched, the last man stood and took aim. Before he could get him in his sights, the shooter was down, and the gunshot had come from the other side of the cab. Kate.
He turned to look at her, but she was already running toward the second car, the box in her hands.
Vince stood and headed after her, pulling his cell phone out to get some assistance. Only he didn’t have a chance to dial. Another car, a goddamn Mercedes, came screaming down the road, heading right for Vince’s car.
Where they’d come from, he didn’t know, but they were not stopping, not even trying to hit the brakes. With a crash that made the ground shake, they rammed into his car, sending it careening into the back of the Buick. He ducked, covering his head, as one of the cars burst into flames. He looked for Kate, but he couldn’t find her. Christ, she’d been right there. Right in front of the burning Buick.
* * * * *
Kate woke up on the pavement, her head throbbing and the box overturned. Papers were scattering in the wind, illuminated by the flames that engulfed the car. She got up, the sounds of gunfire louder than the crackling of the fire.
As she grabbed papers and stuffed them back in the box, she heard sirens in the distance, which meant she, Nate and Seth had to get out of there, pronto. But she couldn’t leave any pages behind. Even one could do them irreparable damage.
“Kate, goddammit, get out of there.”
Vince stood over her, his sleeve bloody, his face quivering in the light of the blaze.
“Go away. You can’t be here.”
“Leave the damn—” He stopped, lifted his weapon and let go a round.
She ignored him and continued getting the ledger paper. She’d seen enough to know that the men who were trying to kill her weren’t the Asian gang. It was Omicron, although she had no idea how they’d tracked her. And now she’d gotten Nate and Seth in the mix, not to mention Vince. His car was destroyed, he was shot, who knew how badly. Well, the police would get here soon enough, and he’d be fine. She’d be fine, too, if she could just get the rest of the papers in the box and get the hell out of there.
She looked behind her, past Vince, and saw that the body count had risen. But there were Nate and Seth, crouched behind the car doors, doing what they’d been trained to do.
Vince swore loudly, then he put his weapon in his waistband and joined her, gathering the papers. “The gas tank’s going to blow any minute,” he shouted. “I hope these pages are worth it.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“The hell you don’t.”
She ran closer to the car to retrieve a page that was already singed. As soon as she had it, she felt a tug on her coat and she was pulled back. Vince shoved her away as he went perilously close to the fire. He got everything he could, then ran like hell back to where she waited. As far as she could see that was the end of it. She stuffed the pages inside the box and closed it.
“Can we get out of here now?”
“We aren’t going anywhere. You’re waiting for the police.”
“Oh, no—”
An explosion knocked him into her, and they fell on the hard ground, his elbow jabbing her in the ribs, knocking the wind out of her. Of course, she’d landed right on her head again, and, for a moment, she thought she was going to lose it.
Behind her, she heard a bloodcurdling scream, and her heart froze. Maybe she was disoriented, maybe the scream hadn’t come from Nate’s car.
She pushed Vince away and got to her hands and knees. As she watched, Nate shot the last of the men from the Mercedes, then he ran around the car. To Seth. On the ground.
She was on her feet a moment later, running. When she got to the men, Nate had dropped his jacket and was taking off his T-shirt. Seth was holding on to his left wrist. The hand above it was covered in blood, and there was a space where his thumb should have been.
She watched numbly as Nate swathed the terribly wounded hand, applying pressure. A moment later, Vince crouched down next to Nate. He had a belt in his hand, and he fashioned a tourniquet out of it.
Nate looked up at Kate. “Get the box. Put it in the trunk.”
She obeyed, amazed that her feet worked, that she could follow the simple order. The sirens were getting closer, and that made her move even faster.
She put the box away, stunned at how many bullet holes had gone through the back of the car. When she turned, Nate and Vince were carrying a very still Seth into the backseat. Vince got in with him, holding the tourniquet tight.
Nate climbed behind the wheel. She went to the passenger side and the second she closed the door, Nate gunned it. They turned off the road before the police got there.
She wondered if Seth would be all right. If she’d gotten all the Kosovo papers. What the police would make of the carnage. And what the hell she was going to do with Vince.
Chapter 12
“What the hell’s going on?” Nate whispered, although Kate was sure Vince could hear him.
“I’ll explain later. Where are we going?”
“To Harper. Goddammit. What happened? How did they find you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Uh, there’s a hospital about a mile from here, if you get on the freeway,” Vince suggested from the backseat.
She turned to look back at Vince. Seth was still unconscious, which was a good thing, and Vince had the wounded man’s head cradled in his lap. He still had the belt tight at Seth’s wrist, and she just hoped like hell Seth didn’t die before they got to Harper’s place.
“We’re not going to a hospital,” Nate said.
Vince cursed. “Who the hell are you?”
“That’s none of your goddamn business.”
“I’m a cop, you idiot.”
“A suspended cop.”
Kate looked at Nate, then back at Vince. “What?”
“He didn’t tell you? He was suspended three days ago. I doubt very much he was supposed to be watching you. Or even have a gun.”
“You didn’t think that was necessary information?” she asked, incredulous. “My God, did you lie about everything?”
“It wasn’t important. As you saw so vividly tonight, a gang is out to kill you.”
She almost spoke, but a glance from Nate made her turn away from Vince.
“If you don’t get him to a hospital, he’s going to lose the whole hand,” Vince said.
“We’re taking him to a doctor. Kate, get out my cell and press five, would you?”
“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Vince said.
“She does.” Nate turned on yet another dark, small street. If they let Omicron catch them now, Seth wouldn’t have any hope. Nate had to keep to protocol.
“So back to my question,” Vince said. “Who are you?”
“You don’t need to know that. As soon as we get Seth help, I’ll take you somewhere to catch a cab home.”
“Oh, no. Not after this. I’m not letting anything happen to Kate.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Vince didn’t say anything more as they drove. Kate hit the speed dial on Nate’s cell but had to wait a long time for Harper’s sleepy “Hello.”
“Hey, it’s Kate. We need your help.”
“Shit. Fine. I’ll be ready.”
Kate blinked as she realized Harper had hung up without even asking what was wrong. She supposed the doctor would be ready for anything. Even a wound as serious as Seth’s.
She remembered the blood on Vince’s jacket, and she turned around to find him wincing as he shifted in the backseat. “You were hit.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Your sleeve is covered with blood.”
“I’ll live. I’m more concerned about who the hell was trying to kill you. I’m pretty sure it was the Crips in the Buick, but I didn’t get any kind of a look at the people in the Mercedes.”
She turned away again, still concerned with his wound, but more anxious that he stop asking questions.
She wanted to tell him it wasn’t a gang, but then he’d want to know who it was, and she couldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t tell him anything.
“And while you’re filling me in,” Vince said, “you can tell me why ledgers from Kosovo were more important to you than your own life.”
Nate’s head jerked around, and he glared at her as if he could strangle her on the spot.
“Shut up, Vince. Just for once, be smart and shut up.”
He did as she asked, but she knew it wouldn’t last. She doubted he could have made any sense of the ledgers, but just seeing them put him in danger. Shit, Omicron must have known she was staying at his house. How else would they have found her?
Whether Nate liked it or not, Vince was involved. He was in danger, and there was no way they could simply let him go back to his life, even though he was a cop. A suspended cop. Why hadn’t he told her?
But she couldn’t talk it over with Nate, not in front of Vince. And not while Seth’s life was slipping away. They couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t even think about that.
Nate slowed in front of an old two-story house. It had a small, fenced-in front yard and a driveway that led past the house to a freestanding garage. He pulled all the way to the back, then doused the lights. Turning to Kate, he said, “Get out your weapon until we get him in the house.”
She nodded and took her Glock out of her pocket. She wasn’t sure how much ammo she had left, but it would have to be enough.
They got out of the car, and Nate and Vince struggled to get Seth out of the backseat. He was a big guy, and it wasn’t easy, especially because they had to be so careful of his hand.
Kate went up the back steps and knocked on the door. No one answered, so she banged harder.
Finally, the door opened. Harper, who Kate hadn’t seen in almost seven months, was in her bathrobe. She looked like she was pissed off, but that wasn’t unusual for Harper. Good thing Kate knew that, despite all the bluff, Harper was not only an amazing physician but would work herself to the bone if it meant saving someone’s life.
“Seth’s been shot,” Nate said. They were almost up the stairs. “Is everything in place?”
