Tapestry of the Past

by Alvania Scarborough

  “Now we keep digging.” Gabriel turned to Sam. “Did you find out who’s been accessing my files?”

  “No one that I can tell.”

  “Jim’s tearing the office apart, on the QT, of course,” Wolf added. “Danielle can’t remember anyone requesting authorization for your records. If anyone would know, she would. She’s been Jim’s right hand for the last ten years.” Gabriel shot Wolf a sardonic glance. Wolf shrugged. “I know. I know. It’s highly unlikely whoever is behind this stopped to ask permission but you never know. Jim will go just so far without going through official channels,” Wolf warned. “You know him, he leaves breaking the rules up to the rest of us. As long as it doesn’t come back to haunt him. The moment something concrete turns up, he wants it official.”

  “Who are Jim and Danielle?” Kalesia allowed Gabriel to pull her back to his side.

  “Jim Wright is my old boss. Danielle Eastman is his assistant.”

  “They haven’t found out anything at all?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.

  “Kalesia, whoever he is, the guy’s a pro.” Gabriel’s voice was exquisitely gentle.

  “I know. I just wish this whole mess was over.”

  * * * * *

  “I own you.”

  Anger tightened the listener’s throat even as he shifted from one foot to the other. He swallowed a hot rush of words. More than money restrained him. A deeply ingrained desire to continue living held him back.

  “Look. I’m doing everything you ask. I told you about them investigating her vision from two years ago, didn’t I? And I broke into her house to see if she kept records of her visions. I even told you the info Harley dug up on Steele. At some risk to myself, I might add.”

  “Don’t ask for more money,” he was informed coldly. “I might begin to regret our bargain.”

  A frisson of fear slid down his spine. Sometimes, he wished he’d never gotten involved, had turned down the money. There was something innately sadistic about the other man’s cultured tones. But he was in too deep to quit now.

  “Is the woman still with him?”

  “If she is?”

  “Make her leave.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? Steele has her locked up tight.”

  “Do it. Otherwise, I might begin to wonder if the information I’m buying is worth what I’m paying.”

  “I’ll take care of the matter,” he said angrily, the mocking tone on the other end of the line making him forget where he was. A bead of sweat slid down, tickling his cheek as he remembered. He lowered his voice. “It might take a bit. She might be afraid to leave.”

  “For the sake of your health, she’d better have a change of heart. I want the investigation stopped.”

  “What about my money?”

  “When I’m sure you’ve done the job properly.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gabriel’s eyes opened abruptly. He laid perfectly still, waiting for a repeat of the slight noise that had jarred him out of a sound sleep. He felt a small surge of irritation even as his knife slid smoothly into his hand.

  A sound sleep was still novel enough to be treasured. The small electric device at the head of the bed made another, near soundless, burring noise. Kalesia stirred in her sleep, moving until her bottom was snuggled firmly against him.

  With a silent thud, Hannibal landed on the foot of the bed. Slinking soundlessly until he was next to Gabriel, the huge, black cat crouched low beside him. He was staring intently in the direction of the double French doors. A growl vibrated deep in the cat’s throat.

  Disentangling himself carefully from the slumbering woman, Gabriel placed a warning hand on the cat’s back. Hannibal’s tail whipped back and forth but he subsided.

  Gabriel had lived too long with danger not to recognize the symptoms. Even as he watched, the door opened without sound. There was the subdued sheen of polished metal. Gabriel threw the knife and, in one smooth motion, followed it across the room.

  A painful yelp was quickly cut off.

  The sound of a struggle startled Kalesia awake. Disoriented, it was a second before she located the source of the battle. She heard Gabriel grunt and then the sickening sound of flesh striking flesh.

  Kalesia scrambled desperately for the gun she knew Gabriel kept in the nightstand, forgetting her distaste for weapons in her need to protect him. She was aware of loud screaming and distantly realized that she was yelling at the top of her lungs. Just as her hand closed on the surprisingly heavy pistol, one of the men on the floor gave an agonized shriek.

  “Gabriel!” she screamed.

  “Honey, do me a favor. Point that thing the other way. I’d hate to get shot while buck-naked.” Gabriel straddled the man, the knife resting with casual menace against the man’s throat. The intruder, not being totally stupid, didn’t move a muscle. “While you’re at it,” he added in an afterthought, “turn the light on so we can see who we’ve got.”

  Gabriel shook his head mournfully. “Damn, just when I was getting used to sleeping the night through.”

  The soft light of the bedside lamp flared.

  “Well, well, well. Who would have guessed?” Gabriel looked up as the bedroom door crashed against the wall. “One of you had better get Harley on the horn. Our little pigeon found us.” Badger made an about-face immediately.

  Wolf crossed the room to crouch beside the pair. He studied the fallen man’s knife wound dispassionately. He raised one brow. “The thigh?”

  “My aim was off. I threw across my body while lying down. Sue me.”

  Wolf gave a low whistle as he got a closer look. “What the hell happened to his face?” he asked, studying the numerous scratch marks.

  “Courtesy of my partner.” Gabriel tilted his head in the general direction of Hannibal who, once he had taken care of the threat to the one person he idolized, was washing his paw.

  “Hard to believe you two were actually on the same side of a conflict.”

  “Yeah, ain’t it just. Life is just full of improbabilities lately. Want to keep an eye on Goldilocks here, while I get dressed?”

  “My pleasure.” Wolf smiled maliciously down at the sullen man, silently inviting him to try to escape. “You know, Sam,” he began conversationally, not taking his eyes off his prisoner as he spoke to the man leaning against the wall. “I’ve come to the conclusion you and I lead boring lives. When’s the last time you had so much excitement in your bedroom?”

  Hazel eyes crinkled in thought. “Well,” he drawled, “there was that brunette.”

  “The expert in hand-to-hand?” Wolf shook his head sorrowfully. “Damn, everybody gets to have a little fun but me. I need a vacation.”

  * * * * *

  Harley arrived in less than half an hour. He shot a sour glance at the apprehended deputy. “I had hoped to hell you were mistaken, Gabe. What happened?”

  “It seems Deputy Pompano had orders to give Kalesia additional impetus to leave my tender, expert care.”

  “From whom?”

  “Claims he doesn’t know. Actually, I kinda believe him. It’s about the only thing about his story that I do believe.”

  “Let’s ask Rambo over there how he made contact,” Badger said, contempt on his face at Pompano’s jungle suit and painted face.

  “It wasn’t from the S.O. unless he used a disposable cell. I ran a check on all repeating numbers. Incoming and outgoing,” Sam commented from the depths of a chair.

  “You obtained a record of the department’s calls?” Harley asked, incredulous, anger darkening his face.

  Sam’s face was all innocence. “Now that would be illegal without a court order, wouldn’t it?”

  Harley glared.

  Gabriel stopped the incipient argument. “We’ll go into the legality later. What did you find out?”

  “I cross-indexed it with our list and came up with nada.”

  “We’ll definitely talk later.” Harley turned to face his deputy, restrained anger vibrating
through his taut form. “What Agent Woods found out does, however, bring up an interesting question. Just how did you make contact? Before you answer, let me read you your rights. You’re familiar with the procedure, aren’t you?”

  Pompano’s eyes darted about. He looked like he wanted to run. Wolf casually got to his feet and positioned himself within an arm’s length of Pompano. Samuel did the same thing on the other side. Pompano sank back in his chair. “I never initiate contact. He always calls me.”

  “At the department?” Harley’s voice was sharp.

  Pompano nodded. “Every two or three days. I’m never quite sure when to expect a call.”

  “What about payment?”

  “He tells me where to pick it up. It’s never the same place twice.”

  “How long have you been selling out?” Harley balled his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white. His need to pound Pompano’s face into a bloody mess was clear. Gabriel knew exactly how he felt.

  “Two years, give or take.”

  “Son of a bitch! You’ve been selling out the department that long? Right under my nose? Who else have you placed in danger? Besides the deputies you work with, of course.”

  Pompano refused to look his boss in the eye. He hung his head. “Just Miss Brannigan.”

  Gabriel tensed beneath the restraining hand Kalesia placed on his arm. His voice was a black pit of promise when he asked, “Why Kalesia?”

  “I don’t know.” Pompano raised a panicked hand as Gabriel stirred. “It’s the truth, man. You’ve got to believe me.” He licked his lip nervously. “This is the first time he’s told me to keep an eye on a person. Usually, it was investigations the S.O. was working on. Things like drug busts and arms.” He cringed from the hot look Harley shot him.

  “Hell, it was just by accident I told him of Miss Brannigan’s visit. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, if Murphy hadn’t remembered her coming around a couple of years ago with some story about a murder. Honest. We’d just shared a laugh about a psychic reporting her own murder when he called. I guess it was on my mind, so I told him. I didn’t expect him to take it seriously.” Pompano didn’t see Kalesia’s baleful glare. Maybe he ought to turn her loose on the man.

  “Why were you here tonight? To kill Kalesia?” Gabriel gathered himself, prepared to launch across the room to throttle Pompano if he answered yes.

  “Hell, no! I’m not a murderer,” Pompano protested indignantly.

  “Just a miserable little snitch. A cop on the take,” Wolf murmured, his dark voice filled with sarcasm. The deputy had the grace to redden.

  “You don’t understand. It was easy money. A cop’s salary doesn’t buy a damn thing in today’s world.”

  “Not even loyalty,” Badger snarled, disgust for a man who would sell his honor lacing the rough comment.

  Pompano looked at the floor. “I wasn’t going to kill her. Just scare her a little. Make her run.”

  “That’s why you brought a gun? To scare her a little?” Gabriel’s hand fisted and then slowly opened. First, he’d reach down Pompano’s throat and pull his balls out through his mouth. Then, he’d settle down to some serious hurt.

  Pompano opened his mouth and then looked wildly around at the sea of closed, dispassionate faces. He abruptly shut his mouth and refused to say anything else.

  “Breaking and entering. Felonious assault. I’m sure if we dig a little deeper we can come up with conspiracy to commit murder and accessory to murder. Who knows what other interesting tidbits will turn up?” Harley reached behind him in a smooth, practiced motion for the handcuffs.

  “Unless,” Wolf drawled.

  Harley turned back inquiringly. “Unless?”

  “There’s reason to believe his boss’s crimes are both federal and international in scope. The government might be willing to cut a deal if Pompano can help deliver his boss.”

  “He’ll kill me!”

  “The way I see it,” Gabriel said, “you’re dead if you don’t talk. When news of your arrest becomes public, he is going to assume you sang like a nightingale.” He bared his teeth. “I’ll personally make sure that impression is given. And your boss, whoever he is, doesn’t strike me as the type of man to leave loose threads. You, Deputy Pompano, are a very prominent thread, one that threatens to unravel the whole operation.”

  Pompano looked at each man, finding no hope of mercy in the set faces. His gaze finally landed and settled on Kalesia. “You’ve got to believe me, Miss. It was never my intention to kill you.” He sounded desperate.

  Gabriel saw her face soften. In disbelief, he realized she was falling for Pompano’s pitch. Goddamn, he wanted to tear the slimy bastard apart. He settled on squeezing her hand.

  She shot him an irritated glance before returning her attention to the other man. “No,” she agreed quietly, “you were leaving that up to your employer. And to kill me, he would have to kill Gabriel. Because of you, Gabriel would have been dead.”

  The deputy dropped his eyes. “What kind of deal?”

  * * * * *

  Gabriel stood just inside the open door and watched as Kalesia flew out the door. The smell of heat and dust lingered on the air. Damn, would she never learn? He’d told her he’d get the mail. Hell, she’d barely waited for the mail truck to get around the bend.

  He ought to tan her hide. How the hell was he supposed to protect her if she reacted without thought? He scowled as she opened the large, square mailbox. Head down, she thumbed through the stack of mail as she walked back to the house. Not once did she look around to make sure she wasn’t being observed. The killer could have been standing within touching distance and she wouldn’t have noticed.

  Damn, foolish woman.

  He reached for the screen door. Kalesia looked up.

  Gabriel’s stomach muscles tightened.

  He’d taken the bait. Gabriel didn’t need to see the manila envelope on top of the pile to know. The strain in her face was all the confirmation he required.

  He opened the screen door. Kalesia walked into his arms. “He fell for it, Gabriel.” She held up the large envelope. In bold letters was her name. Her hand shook.

  “Give it here. I’ll read it.”

  Kalesia pulled away and squared her shoulders. “I’ll read it. I refuse to let this man continually terrify me.” In silence she opened the envelope and read the contents. Her face showed her relief.

  “He’s overplayed his hand. Not only does he mention you being a hit man for one of the major cartels but he goes into great details about you running arms to insurgents.” She passed the ten-page report to him, budding excitement in her face. “He must be getting desperate. He’s more open in his suggestion that I leave you.”

  Inside, the lid he kept on the darkness rattled. Fine fractures formed. A bone-chilling cold crept over him. Gabriel didn’t think he’d ever get warm again.

  He stared at the report in his hand. It was more than the story he and Harley had concocted. So very much more. It went back nearly twenty years. In an instant, he was there again.

  Heat.

  Humidity.

  Pain.

  Neat surgical slices.

  Always the pain.

  Blood slid off his back. Ran down his side. Formed ever-widening crimson pools.

  He started as Kalesia covered his hand with hers.

  “You were right. He’s either arrogant or getting desperate. He’s making mistakes. First he sends Deputy Pompano and now this.” She flicked the papers in Gabriel’s hands with a nail.

  Gabriel barely heard her.

  Seeing the details of his torture spelled out in exquisite detail made Gabriel’s stomach muscles clench in protest. But, God, worse than that was seeing the subsequent revenge he had taken played out on the pages in black and white. A knife twisted in his gut.

  Now Kalesia knew exactly to what depths he was capable of sinking.

  He had skipped letting her know the details of his escape, hoping to protect her.

  Or had he
been hoping to protect himself?

  Had he been afraid that if she knew the full story, she’d be horrified? Possibly have second thoughts about staying with a man whose hands were steeped in blood. A man who killed as easily and efficiently as most men shaved. Knowing what has happened to a person, knowing abstractly that they had committed acts of violence, was very different from having the finer points of the deed slap you in the face.

  How could Kalesia not believe the report? It presented a tale of fact and fiction so intricately woven, the strands twisted together so expertly, that if it were not his life Gabriel wouldn’t have hesitated for a moment to believe it. It also neatly tied in his torture as punishment for double crossing his illicit partners. Nice of him to be so thorough, Gabriel thought, bitter bile on the back of his tongue.

  He reread the last page. Now Kalesia knew.

  Gabriel Steele, killer of children.

  “Do you believe him?” What a stupid question. Of course she did. Numb, he waited for her to turn away from him.

  “Believe him?” Kalesia asked, sounding distracted. She glanced at the paper. “Oh, you mean that story about you killing your partner and a child who witnessed the murder?” The heat from her palms burned the chilled skin of his face. Her lips seared him as she brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. “Of course I don’t believe him. You would never kill a child.”

  Raw pain flashed across his nerve endings, leaving them exposed. He pulled her hands from his face. “I did. I did exactly that.”

  Shock flashed across her face. For a full minute, she didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

  It was the longest minute of Gabriel’s life.

  Once more, crackle glass separated him from the rest of the world. From Kalesia. Darkness seeped onto it. Found the fine lines and ran into them. Behind the glass, Gabriel caught a glimpse of endless night. It seethed and roiled, impatient. It knew. Knew its time had come. The glass shattered. Darkness surged toward him.

  Gabriel stoically waited for it to swallow him. Odd but he felt no fear. Just a deep regret that he hadn’t met Kalesia sooner.

  She stunned him when she freed her hands and put one palm over his heart. “I know you,” she said gently. “Your natural instinct is to protect those smaller or weaker than yourself. You will never convince me you meant to kill that child. Tell me about it,” she coaxed.