The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  Joe opened the door and threw himself to the pavement while squeezing off one shot after the other at the warehouse. He rolled behind his car, then ran in a crouch toward the nearest thing that could shelter him, the side of the building, bullets whizzing by in every direction around him.

  He didn’t look back to see if they were coming from the warehouse or Ramos. He ran like hell for cover.

  He got maybe thirty feet away when something plowed into his back and knocked him face-first into the pavement. Shot, his dazed mind registered. For a split second, he thought of Wendy and the baby. Shook it off. He had to keep his mind in the game. He rolled into the cover of a haphazard jumble of rusty Dumpsters by the building’s side, giving thanks for his Kevlar.

  Tires squealed behind him. Ramos was driving away at last.

  Hopefully with a couple of bullets in him. Joe struggled to catch his breath as he pushed to his feet. He needed to get his ass moving. Some of J.T.’s boys would go after Ramos. The rest would come after him.

  He staggered into the narrow alley between the shoe warehouse and the next derelict building. The alleyway stretched to two hundred feet, at least. If anyone came after him before he cleared the other end, he’d have nowhere to hide, nothing but brick wall on either side. The gap was maybe three feet wide, filled with dead weeds and garbage.

  Somewhere in the distance, police sirens sounded. Too damn far.

  Engines roared to life behind the warehouse. J.T.’s crew was mobilizing. If Joe darted out of the alleyway in front of them, they’d either run him down or shoot him dead, probably both. He couldn’t go forward, and he couldn’t go back.

  He spotted half a dozen basement windows near the ground behind the weeds. One had its glass broken. He scanned the junk around him and grabbed a tattered cardboard box, ran to the window, stuck his head in. The dim, cavernous place seemed uninhabited, no sound of movement.

  Jeezus, it stunk in there.

  He gagged as he dove in, then, as soon as he was on his feet, he jumped and reached back to pull the box over to cover the window from the outside. That blocked a little more light, but hiding the window might give him a few extra minutes.

  He squinted as he scanned the place. Concrete floor, concrete block walls, a mess of broken industrial equipment thrown around. He held back a coughing fit, but he wasn’t sure how long he could keep from throwing up. Hopefully, if his stomach gave out, at least it would do it quietly.

  Voices reached him from outside, coming closer and closer.

  As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he looked around more carefully, and spotted an odd-shaped pile in the corner. He took four or five steps in that direction before he realized he was looking at a pile of decomposing bodies.

  He did lose his dinner then as he stared at the three dead men. The one on top had his face turned toward Joe. Officer Tropper.

  He cupped his left hand over his nose, pulled his cell with his right hand, and dialed Chief Gleason’s direct number. Didn’t get anywhere with that. The basement had zero phone reception.

  He snapped a picture of the bodies, then moved toward the door, ready to get the hell out of there. With some luck, everyone up above had cleared out, since the cops were coming.

  Then again, when did he have any luck lately? He ran into two men at the top of the stairs. He recognized one of them as the driver of the Hummer. Joe shot at them, but they ducked to the side, shot back with their guns held out, keeping themselves behind cover. He had to retreat into the unbearable stench. If he could get back out the window—

  No, not that either. Someone was climbing in. The men after him had figured out where he’d disappeared to.

  Joe pulled into the nearest empty corner and put his back to the wall, shot at the guy. He hit his target, and the man dropped but had enough left in him to fire back. Then his buddies reached the bottom of the staircase and opened fire on Joe from the other side.

  “You gonna go to the top of the pile, mothafucka,” Hummer guy shouted.

  More than likely. Joe fired back. He had two bullets left.

  Deathblow: Chapter Fifteen

  Wendy prepared to make breakfast, Justin helping every step of the way, when the sound of a car drew her attention to the front window. She looked out, hoping for Joe, but spotted a tow truck instead, carrying her Prius on the back.

  She pushed aside both the disappointment and the worry. Joe had said he might not be back until morning. He’d be here any minute.

  She put a smile on her face as she turned to her son. “Hey, tow truck is here. Want to see?”

  “Yay!” Justin beamed as if he’d swallowed a sunlamp. The kid was nuts for cars and trucks.

  She put a coat on him, then picked him up and went to meet the tow-truck driver, an older guy about as wide as he was tall.

  “Hi. You must be Artie. I’m Wendy. Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “No problem. I thought I’d swing your car by to see if you wanted to get anything out of it.”

  “I’d love the car seat.”

  Artie pulled it out and set it on the driveway.

  “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

  But Artie shook his head. “Tow is free. I owe Joe plenty. I’ll call him about an estimate for the car once I get a chance for a closer look. But unless you have some special attachment to it,” he shook his head, “it’s pretty much totaled. Let the insurance deal with it.”

  Wendy sighed as she looked at her car. “Thanks.”

  Artie waved, then winked at Justin and shuffled back to his truck.

  Wendy yelled another thank-you after him as he drove away. The free tow was incredibly nice. Courtesy of Joe, it seemed. That everybody in town liked him said something about him. She was always offended when people assumed she was nothing more than a pretty face, but truth be told, she’d done that with Joe. It didn’t feel comfortable to be proven wrong over and over again.

  She set Justin down and let him run ahead as she carried the car seat. She left it inside the door, helped Justin take his coat off, then they went back to the kitchen to make pancakes, but the doorbell rang before she was finished.

  A pretty young woman stood on the other side of the door, short brown hair in a fashionable cut, holding a toddler boy who looked just like her.

  “Hi,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m Amber. Joe’s sister. He said he had guests staying over, and Max and I should stop by.”

  She definitely had Joe’s eyes. Wendy opened the door for her, recognizing Max from a photo on the fridge. “Come in. We were about to grab some pancakes, then go outside to check out that swing set. I’m Wendy.”

  “Where’s Joe?”

  “Hasn’t come home yet.”

  “Night shift?”

  Wendy nodded.

  “Work can drag on,” Amber said. “If something happens right at the end of shift, they have to stay to do the million pages of paperwork.”

  Justin stared curiously at the visitors. Wendy nudged him forward an inch or two. “This is Justin. Justin, this is Max.”

  The visitors went back to the kitchen with them and Wendy made a couple of extra pancakes for Max, who’d apparently had cereal already but never turned down maple syrup. Amber asked for a glass of water and chatted about how much better the kitchen was now than when Joe had bought the house. But the whole time, Wendy had a feeling she was being assessed, which made her twitchy.

  The boys too measured each other up during the meal, but once they were outside, they found some plastic cars in the sandbox and started into a demolition derby as if they’d been best friends forever.

  Amber leaned against the picnic table next to Wendy. “So how long have you known my brother?”

  “A couple of months.”

  She tilted her head. “He said you two were having a baby.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to be an aunt. Why aren’t you together together? He’s a great guy,” she added with a touch of defensiveness. “Are you two fighting? How can you be fight
ing with him? He’s so not the type. I could barely eke a good fight out of him when we were kids. Too damn easygoing. I had to do my sibling fighting with my best friend’s brother. I’m not kidding.”

  Wendy blinked, feeling as if a bullet train was running away with her. Cleared her throat. “We’re not fighting.”

  The smile returned to Amber’s face. “Good.” The smile widened. “You’re living in his house. He’s never had a woman here before. Ever.”

  “I’m here only temporarily.”

  “Hmm.” Amber had a we’ll-see look on her face.

  “You live in Broslin?” Wendy asked, trying to take some control of the conversation.

  “All my life. I’m a realtor. Are you looking to move here?”

  “I have a place in Wilmington.”

  “Daryl was from Wilmington before his family moved to Broslin. My husband. That best friend’s brother I was talking about that I used to fight with like crazy when we were kids.” Sadness touched her face. “He died two years ago from cancer.” She blinked. “When you love somebody, you can’t put things off. You can’t know how much time you’ve been given.”

  “I’m sorry.” Wendy wasn’t sure what to say. “That must be difficult with Max.”

  Amber pressed her lips together for a second. “You’re a single mom too.” Sniffed. Tilted her head. “My big brother might have done a lot of stupid things in his life, but he’s never gone after a married woman.”

  Which didn’t surprise Wendy. Joe had a good, honest core. One more thing that pulled her to him.

  Amber narrowed her eyes. “So if you’re not living with Joe because you’re currently a couple, you must be here in connection with some police business. Like witness protection or whatever. That would explain why Mike is sitting in an undercover car across the road. I’m totally not going to ask you about that.”

  Good. Wendy relaxed a little.

  But Amber clearly wasn’t ready to set aside all of her questions. “Where do you work?”

  “I’m starting my own photography business.”

  “I like that. Women need to take charge of their careers.” She nodded with approval, then narrowed her eyes. “For my realty work, I take adequate pictures for the Internet listings, but the finer homes need flyers. That means staging and a professional photographer. Can you do something like that?”

  “Absolutely,” Wendy said.

  “So what do you like most about Joe?” Amber switched the topic again.

  Wendy tried to hold against whiplash. “He’s kind. Honest. Dependable.”

  Amber raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t say hot.”

  “Not the most important thing.”

  “What do you like least about him?”

  Wendy pressed her lips together for a second. “That I’m attracted to him,” she said miserably.

  Amber laughed out loud at that. “Join the fan club. I’m pretty sure he has one.” She shook her head. “I like you.”

  Wendy stared at her. “Okay, no offense, but I have no idea what to think about you. You’re like a whirlwind.”

  Amber laughed again. “Yeah. I get that sometimes. I think you’re special to him. My brother. He called to talk to me about you, and he told me to come over to meet you and Justin.”

  Okay, and…?

  “I think he’s finally met his match,” Amber said with undisguised satisfaction. “My brother and women…. Okay, we have twelve cousins, all boys. Joe was grandson number thirteen. The grandchild novelty worn off by then. And then I came along, the youngest and the only girl, and everybody spoiled me rotten. I think Joe looked to girls for that extra attention he wasn’t getting at home. And, of course, he got it in spades. That’s where he got spoiled. He needs a good, strong woman to set him straight.”

  Wendy winced. She was so far from strong, it wasn’t even funny.

  Amber leaned forward. “Do you want to hear something creepy about my brother?”

  Mr. Perfection had a dark side? Wendy leaned forward too, all ears.

  Amber said, “His exes don’t hate him. They’re all friends.” She rolled her eyes. “What woman doesn’t hate her ex? I can’t stand my high school ex. I hope my college ex has chicken pox right now. On his balls.”

  Wendy winced.

  Amber didn’t wait for a comment. “When are you due? I’m going to throw a baby shower. But it’ll be a surprise. I don’t want to run out of time here.”

  There went the whiplash again. Wendy swallowed. “In the fall. Around Labor Day.”

  “Ha.” Amber grinned. “Well, that’s kind of appropriate. Do you have a big family?”

  So then Wendy told her about her parents in Florida, who didn’t even know about the pregnancy yet. She needed to tell them in the next phone call. She resolved to do that as she kept replying to Amber’s random questions.

  She was incredibly nosy but somehow super sweet about it. And she volunteered information about herself too. As an hour went by, Wendy was beginning to feel as if they’d known each other for years.

  The boys raced their toy trucks around the sandbox. Max even showed Justin where some other toys were buried in the sand. They kept digging them in and excavating them out until it was finally time to get out of the cold and go inside.

  By then, another chunk of Wendy’s loneliness had lifted. She’d made a new friend. Justin too. “All right, guys. Let’s go and see about some hot chocolate.”

  “Have to put the top on the sandbox,” Max insisted and grabbed the sheet of plastic they’d cast aside when they’d come out.

  “How come?” Justin asked even as he went to help.

  “If you don’t cover up the sand, Pirate Prince poos in it.”

  Justin’s eyes went wide. Wendy could tell he thought that was a very piratey thing, and he liked it quite a bit.

  The kids played another hour inside before Amber and Max left. Wendy locked the door behind them, then cleaned up the toys. Since Justin seemed all tuckered out, she set him on the sofa and put on the cartoon channel. She thought of Joe and started to get restless. Thought about calling him, but if he was doing some kind of undercover work, she didn’t want to interrupt or somehow get him in trouble.

  As she glanced out the window, Max’s red scarf out on the swing caught her eyes, so she ran out to get it. Joe could give it back to his sister. Wendy unwrapped the scarf from the swing and was turning around when Keith stepped out of the holly bushes that separated Joe’s property from his neighbor’s.

  “Hey, babe.”

  Her heart lurched into a mad rhythm. Her muscles froze. For a moment, she was unable to move. “What are you doing here?”

  “Where’s my warm welcome?” He spread his arms. He wore a fake smile and his black wool coat, the one he liked for work. Fresh out of jail, dressed every inch the successful businessman. Did he think that was going to impress her?

  She edged toward the house. “I’m glad they let you go,” she lied. The key was not to get him angry.

  The smarmy smile never wavered on his face. “That’s odd, considering you called the cops on me.”

  “I didn’t. I swear. Somebody broke into my apartment. I told them it wasn’t you.” She would have said anything to reach the back door safely. Mike was up front in his car.

  “Damn right.” Keith advanced. “All they have is fingerprints. Can’t put anything on me with that. I’m over there all the time. Of course, my prints are on everything. You’re my girlfriend.”

  She wasn’t, hadn’t been in a long time, but Wendy didn’t correct him. She had maybe twenty feet to the door. “I think Justin is crying.” She lurched forward. Her cell phone was on the kitchen counter.

  But Keith caught her before she could make it.

  His fingers dug into her arms. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Visiting with a friend.”

  “Screwing cops now? Who the hell is Joe Kessler?”

  “He’s Sophie’s friend.”

  “The kind of frien
d that knocks you up?” He shook her hard. “You’re a cop’s whore.”

  “Please let me go. You’re hurting me.”

  “You’re a freaking whiner. You were lucky I ever looked at you twice. You thought you could hide from me with your new lover?” He flashed a frightful grin. “He came to see me in jail, the little bastard. Took me a second to realize he wasn’t a local cop. Wrong uniform. Had his name on it. Turns out, plenty of people in Broslin know where Officer Kessler lives. They were happy to point an old college friend in the direction of his house.”

  Oh God. How was it possible that she kept underestimating Keith? Maybe she was as stupid as he said she was. “Listen, Joe’s a friend. I was scared of staying at the apartment after the break-in.”

  “You’re knocked up. I know this one’s not mine. You keep your legs crossed when I come over.”

  “Sophie took the test. It’s hers.” She would have said anything to calm him a little.

  He shook her so hard her teeth chattered. “Are you lying to me?”

  “No. I swear.”

  “I’ll know if you’re lying, you cheating whore.” He threw her against the picnic table.

  On instinct, her arms went around her belly to protect it.

  He caught the move. “I know you’re fucking lying!”

  She tried to run, but he caught her by her hair and yanked her back, slapped her so hard she fell to the ground.

  “Please don’t. It doesn’t have to be like this. I’m sorry. Let’s go inside and talk about it.” If she could get him near the front window, Mike would see him.

  “With me, you want to talk. How come everyone else you fuck?”

  “I’m sorry, Keith. I’m sorry.” She scrambled back, trying to get to her feet.

  He seemed to calm. Even extended a hand to help her up.

  She took it because she didn’t dare anger him any further. “Thanks. Hey, you want a beer?”

  He backhanded her so hard she fell again. “You think I want your new boyfriend’s beer?” And then he kicked her in the back.

  She screamed as pain sliced through her.