by Debra Webb
Kendra could only assume that, like her, the thief had assumed something important would be in the files. That not being the case, she had no answers and nothing concrete on which to move forward.
Yet, Kendra had to presume that the information carried some sort of hidden significance that, apparently, only Yoni understood.
The most disturbing aspect was that she and Rocky had been on location more than thirty hours and they knew nothing useful to the investigation.
While at the library Kendra had looked up the Ferguson accident in a number of the local papers. In each instance the vague mention was buried so deeply one had to be specifically looking for the article to locate it—if it was reported at all. The one detail she had discovered that changed her view of Ferguson’s death in any manner was the name of the detective in charge of the investigation.
Wayne Burton.
Too much of a coincidence to actually be coincidental.
Music wafted from the L Street Lounge. Kendra wished her friend hadn’t been murdered…that she hadn’t had to come back here for this. She wished she were on a date having fun like other women her age. How long had it been since she’d gone out for a night on the town with a man just for the fun of it?
Too long.
Maybe she never really had. Her relationship with Wayne had felt more like a necessary accessory that everyone expected.
It hadn’t felt natural or relaxed. She’d never been involved with a man who made her feel those things.
She glanced up at the man holding her close to his side. A man like this one. Handsome. Compassionate. Considerate.
He looked down at her. Made a questioning face. “I should’ve shaved this morning. If we run into any of your fancy friends they might mistake me for someone you picked up on this street.”
Kendra laughed, the sound came from deep in her belly. “You’re right, you know.” She shook her head, watched the couples drifting into the lounge.
Without warning Rocky stopped moving forward, held Kendra even tighter. “Hang on.” He ushered her to a lamppost where he basically wrapped the rest of his big body around her.
“What’s up?” She wanted to lean her head to one side and look past him to see whatever he’d noticed, but that wouldn’t be smart.
“Hear that?”
She listened, heard a gruff male voice. You show up here again and I’m calling the cops.
“Watch to the right,” Rocky murmured.
Three young women strutted down the sidewalk away from the lounge directly behind Rocky’s back.
The man, a bouncer evidently, had ordered the women out of the lounge.
Rocky pulled Kendra away from the lamppost, his long fingers curled around hers, and started after the women.
Kendra hadn’t recognized any of the three but she understood what Rocky saw…ladies of the night. Super short miniskirts. Sky high heels and tight, revealing blouses.
“Stay close,” he warned before releasing Kendra’s hand.
Before Kendra could question his strategy, he’d hustled up behind the ladies. The women stopped walking and started flirting.
Kendra took a position at the next lamppost. She didn’t want to get too close. The ladies might not be as forthcoming with her.
One wrapped her arm around Rocky’s and tip toed to whisper something in his ear. He smiled.
Kendra’s throat tightened.
Ridiculous.
Rocky was doing his job. When he pulled out his cell phone and showed the screen to each of the three, Kendra knew he was asking if they had known Aleesha Ferguson. He’d downloaded a photo of her from the data they’d gotten from the agency.
The move didn’t go over well with one of the girls. She backed away from the huddle. When she whirled around, her bottled blond hair flew around her shoulders. Long skinny legs thrust one in front of the other as she stormed away from the huddle.
As she stamped past Kendra’s position, Kendra made a snap decision and followed her.
Stay close rang in her ears, but Kendra ignored the warning. This woman’s reaction to seeing what Kendra presumed was Ferguson’s photo spoke volumes.
This direction might take them to a dead end as far a Yoni’s murder investigation, but it was the only lead they had at the moment.
Kendra quickened her pace to catch up with the long strides of the other woman. When she’d moved up next to her, Kendra made another snap decision. “I’ve got fifty bucks. Do you have a minute?”
The woman stopped and gave her a cold once-over. “Make it a hundred and I might be able to help you.”
Kendra didn’t have that much cash handy. “Just three questions, okay?”
The woman’s hard gaze narrowed. “What kind of questions?”
Kendra reached into her purse, careful not to take her eyes off the woman. “Does it matter?”
She stared at the cash in Kendra’s hand. “Guess not. I get all kinds,” she muttered. She jerked her head toward the next building. “This way.”
Glancing back to see if Rocky was still talking to the other two would only make the woman suspicious. So Kendra followed her to a narrow alley between the next two buildings.
“This’ll be fine,” Kendra said two steps into the dark alley. She wanted any information she could get, but she wasn’t a fool. The weight of the weapon in her purse pulled heavily at her shoulder, but she had no desire to be forced to use it.
The woman leaned against the building and reached into her tiny shoulder bag.
Kendra’s hand slid back inside her own as new tension rippled through her even as she recognized that it would be difficult to conceal a weapon in a bag that small.
The woman pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lit the cigarette and after a long drag, demanded, “So ask your questions.”
Kendra maintained her position square in the middle of the narrow alley. If the woman bolted it would have to be into the darkness away from the street. “I’m looking for the truth.”
She laughed. “Afraid you’re looking in the wrong place, lady. We don’t sell the truth on this street.”
“My friend showed you a photo of my sister,” Kendra lied. “I want to know what happened to her.”
The girl threw down her half-smoked cigarette and pushed away from the wall. “I don’t need your money that bad.”
“Wait.” Kendra moved to the left, blocking the path she’d intended to take. “Please, help me.”
The woman’s glare burned through the darkness. “I can’t help you.”
“Three questions,” Kendra reminded. She offered the money to her. “Just three.”
She stared at the money. “Okay.” Her gaze met Kendra’s once more. “But I’m not making any promises that I’ll answer all of them.”
Kendra nodded. “Fair enough.” Big breath. “First, and this one doesn’t count, what’s your name?”
One second, two, then three passed before she caved. “Delilah.”
“Nice to meet you, Delilah.” Kendra offered her hand. “I’m Kendra.”
Delilah reluctantly accepted the handshake.
“First question, were there any witnesses to the accident?”
“What accident?”
Kendra dredged up some additional patience. “You know what accident I mean.”
“Yep.” Delilah lit another cigarette. Coughed. “But what you read in the papers or whatever the cops told you was wrong.”
Kendra waited for her to continue. She wasn’t going to waste question number two if she could help it.
“It was no accident.” She looked past Kendra then met her eyes once more. “He hit her on purpose.”
“He?” Damn it. The question was out of Kendra’s mouth before she could stop it. But he? According to Roper it had been Mrs. Castille.
“Yeah. A guy. Dark hair. Young. I didn’t see him up close so that’s all I know. But I won’t forget that big fancy white car he was driving.”
Delilah witnessed the accident? Kendra’
s heart hammered in her chest. She only had one question left for the fifty bucks. Think! “This man had some beef with Aleesha?”
Delilah shook her head. Took another draw from her cigarette. “I don’t think so. I guess he could have been one of Aleesha’s friends, but it was the car that I recognized.”
Kendra held her breath. Prayed she would keep going. Any information she could provide might kick-start this investigation.
“That old bitch had been stalking Aleesha for weeks.” Delilah threw down her smoke and stuck out her hand. “Give me the money.”
Was she referring to Sharon Castille? Kendra needed to know who Delilah was. Was Delilah a professional name? Did she live in the area? Finding her again was essential. “I might have more.” She dug around in her purse. Pulled out her sunglasses and thrust them at Delilah. “Hold that for me, will you?”
Delilah huffed with impatience, but she wrapped her fingers around the sunglasses.
Three, five…Kendra had five more dollars. She added that to the fifty along with one of her business cards and offered it at the woman. “Will that get me one more answer?”
Her face puckered with annoyance, Delilah shoved the sunglasses back at her. Kendra accepted them by grabbing the very end with her thumb and forefinger.
“Depends on the question.” Delilah stuffed the money into her tiny shoulder bag without counting it or noticing the business card. “Make it fast. I got stuff to do.”
“Do you know the woman’s name? The one who was stalking Aleesha?”
Delilah held Kendra’s gaze, clearly wrestling with the decision to answer. “Castille. Sharon Castille. That senator’s wife.”
Kendra kept the shock off her face. She wanted to ask so many other questions…wanted to know more—needed to know more. More than anything she didn’t want to let this woman go but she was out of cash and pushing the limitations of her patience already.
Hesitating as she stepped around the barrier still in her path, Delilah searched Kendra’s face. “Aleesha didn’t have no sister.”
“You’re right,” Kendra admitted. “I wasn’t completely honest with you but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to right this wrong.”
“She’s dead. You can’t right that.”
“Wait!” Kendra needed to know her last name. “Delilah what? What’s your last name?”
The woman kept walking. Didn’t look back.
Kendra wandered back onto the sidewalk. Even if Mrs. Castille was responsible somehow for Aleesha’s murder, what did that have to do with Yoni’s. Yoni had dark hair and was young but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—have done such a thing. Kendra absolutely refused to believe that about him. Covering up a murder was absolutely not possible.
A big body bumped into Kendra, turned her around and ushered her in the opposite direction. “Keep moving.”
Even if his voice hadn’t given him away before Kendra’s distraction cleared, his scent would have. Rocky. “Did you learn anything?” She wanted to tell him her news but she wanted to hear his first.
“We have two tails,” he said without looking at her or slowing his rushed pace.
Kendra had to focus to keep up with his long strides. “They spotted you on the corner?” She was relatively certain no one had tailed her to the alley.
“Yes, ma’am. But, as I approached your position I noticed a guy hanging around who may or may not have been part of the tag team.”
Damn.
“We parked in the other direction.” Getting to the car seemed like the best strategy right now.
“That’s a fact,” Rocky agreed as he guided her between two clusters of pedestrians. “But we don’t want to lead them to our means of escape if we can help it.”
Rocky executed a right face and hustled her into a cafe. He bypassed the hostess and weaved through the tables until they reached the corridor where the restrooms were located.
“Kitchen.” He pointed to the door labeled Employees Only.
She recognized his strategy now. “Wait.” She dug in her heels. “I’ll get a table.” He was already shaking his head before she finished explaining. “You go out the back, get the car and when you’re in front of the cafe text me and I’ll come out.”
“No way am I leaving you here.”
“They’re not going to approach me in front of all these people.” She backed away from him. “Go.”
She didn’t give him a chance to argue. She moved back through the dining room and hooked up with the hostess. A table situated in a straight line and only a few feet from the door served Kendra’s purposes for a hasty exodus. She spotted two men loitering outside the window, one blatantly watching her.
“A waitress will be right with you,” the hostess promised.
Kendra thanked her and pretended to study the menu. The watcher’s accomplice came inside and took a seat at the bar. Kendra calculated the distance between them, ten yards max.
A waitress approached Kendra’s table. “Would you like to order a drink first?”
Kendra checked the street again, then pulled her credit card from her purse. “Sparkling water will be all, please.” She passed the card to the waitress. “Would you swipe my card now? I’m expecting someone and I may have to leave in a hurry.”
“Sure.”
Keeping her cell phone in hand, Kendra checked the door from time to time, covertly scanning the street beyond the floor-to-ceiling front windows simultaneously. The only obstacle standing between her and the street was the guy outside the window. She would need a distraction for him.
What about the third guy Rocky had spotted? As the minutes ticked by Kendra worried that he’d followed and overtaken her partner. Rocky was a big, well-trained guy. He could take care of himself. And he was armed.
Then again, the other guys likely would be, as well.
The two hanging around her position wore jackets with their trousers. Most any manner of lethal weapon could be hidden under a jacket.
Her phone vibrated in her palm.
I’m turning onto your block now.
“Here you go.”
Kendra smiled for the waitress as she placed the stemmed glass of sparkling water on the table, along with the check and Kendra’s card.
“Thank you.” Kendra quickly signed the check, providing a nice tip, and tucked the card back into her purse.
She shifted her legs, settled her purse into her lap and prepared to move as soon as she saw the rental car approach.
A car rolled up slowly. Kendra’s muscles tightened in preparation for launching out of the chair and through the exit.
Silver…not black.
Not Rocky.
The tinted window on the front passenger side powered down as the silver sedan came to a stop.
Horns blared in indignation.
Kendra’s mouth formed the words Get Down! as her brain analyzed the series of events.
She hit the floor.
The glass window exploded, showering fragments over the front of the dining room.
Screams filled the air.
Tables and chairs tumbled to the floor.
A light fixture burst and went dark.
Framed memorabilia on the wall shattered and crashed to the floor.
The blast of metal smashing into metal followed by screeching tires erupted outside.
More screams inside…shouting and crying.
Rushing footsteps.
Kendra shook off the shock. Shoved her hand into the purse she still clutched. Her fingers curled around the butt of her weapon. She came up onto her knees, the weapon leveled at the closest threat—the man who had been loitering by the window.
Gone.
She swung around, scanned the people now moving around the bar. No sign of the one who’d taken a post at the bar, either.
“Gun!” a voice shouted.
Someone tackled her from behind.
Her cheek flattened against the wood floor, pieces of glass bored into her flesh.
Her weap
on was pried from her fingers.
The weight crushing into her back was a patron or an employee of the cafe…not a threat. She told herself to remain calm. Stay cool. Three more men were huddled around her. She didn’t bother attempting to explain who she was and why she had a weapon.
The police would be here soon enough.
Her one concern right now was Rocky.
Where the hell was Rocky?
Chapter Nine
11:55 p.m.
Lieutenant Wayne Burton glared first at Rocky then at Kendra. “Two people are injured.”
Not counting Kendra, Rocky bit back. A paramedic had treated her minor abrasions and cuts. The small bandage on her cheek had anger fisting in his gut all over again. This was unacceptable.
Yet it could have been so much worse.
He should never have allowed her to stay here alone.
The cafe dining room was wrecked. Front windows shattered. Broken chairs and tables, mostly from the panicked patrons. A bullet had left an ugly hole in the vintage mahogany bar. The mirror behind it lay in a million pieces in the prep alley behind the long bar. Whiskey and liquor bottles were shattered.
All three of the perpetrators had disappeared into the night. But not without a little something to remember Rocky by. The silver car had whipped around him as soon as he’d turned onto the street that ran in front of the cafe. When Rocky had realized what the driver intended, he’d rear-ended the bastard. He’d managed to get part of the license plate number before ramming him.
As soon as he’d ensured Kendra was okay, including pushing aside the three idiots who’d seized and manhandled her, he’d given the first cop on the scene the information about the silver car.
Kendra pushed up from the chair she’d taken after Burton had sequestered them to the cafe manager’s office. “I have a question for you,” she said to her old friend. She shifted to regain her balance. The heel of one shoe was missing. “Why are you here?” She turned her palms upward. “There are no fatalities, thankfully. It’s a drive-by shooting so far as anyone knows. There’s no evidence I was a target any more than anyone else seated in the dining room.”
