The humidity felt like a blanket under overcast skies as Rocky drove to Detroit’s West Side. Thunder was rumbling by the time he walked through the door of Lost and Found Treasures.
“Hello!” he called. No one came to the window. He couldn’t imagine what would make Sleazy leave the front door open and the cash window untended. Prick-les touched his neck, and he glanced around the ceiling for cameras. He spotted two at opposite corners of the room; a red light flashing beneath each one indicated that they were working. He wasn’t reassured.
Leaning over the chest-high counter, Rocky peered into the small area behind the window. Papers, a computer terminal, stacked boxes. No sign of a scuffle, which was only mildly encouraging. The stillness of the place wasn’t a good sign.
Access to the space behind the window was through a door to his right. Knowing the security Sleazy employed on the outer room, he expected it to be locked with at least a couple deadbolts. He turned the knob. The door opened smoothly.
“Hey! Anybody here?” Utter silence. A narrow hallway led to the dim back area of the store, probably the main storeroom. No lights were on, shrouding the hallway in blackness. The silence was unnatural, so thick it buzzed in his ears. Every sense was on full alert.
He was worried about the Colombians, but in Sleazy’s business, anyone could be a potential problem. The man obviously bought stolen goods, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that some rejected, desperate druggie, unable to pawn his items, might try to rob him. Anyone could be standing back there right now, hand muffling Sleazy’s mouth, waiting to see what Rocky would do. He had to go back there and find out what was going on.
But he needed a gun. Unfortunately, with his criminal record he’d never get a permit to carry one. Sleazy had to have one around somewhere, though.
Rocky looked under the window that divided the business area from the customers’ and found a pump action 12-gauge with both barrels loaded. He tried to be reassured by the fact that it was there, that Sleazy hadn’t felt he needed it. But its presence meant nothing except that Rocky didn’t have to walk down that long hall without protection. Tucking the shotgun into a comfortable position at his side, he started toward the back of the store. He didn’t call out anymore; he’d given the man plenty of opportunity to respond. Either Sleazy wasn’t here, or he couldn’t answer.
Slowly, Rocky felt inside the door at the end of the hall until he found the light switch. He hit it, sending a half dozen fluorescent tubes into a flickering fit. It took at least ten seconds for the lights to steady, illuminating several rows of metal shelves stacked with cardboard boxes. He made a careful sweep of the room, looking down empty row after empty row. No Sleazy. Turning all the way to the right, he saw a partially open door. Leading with his shotgun, he stepped toward the door, nudging it with the barrel. It moved two inches and stopped. He pushed harder, and it bounced back this time, hitting something resistant behind it.
He looked around the door into a small bathroom: a sink, a mirror, a toilet. And a body. Sleazy lay crumpled beside the toilet, a neat bullet hole in the back of his head.
Goddamn it. Rocky muttered it aloud several times, unable to think of anything more appropriate. He hadn’t liked a single thing about the guy, but felt bad for the way he’d died. Not to mention he felt guilty, despite the fact that he’d warned Sleazy. Desperate addicts weren’t noted for neat, execution-style slayings; this death was cold and deliberate.
Sleazy died because Rocky had led a killer to the shop.
Trudging back to the front desk, he wiped the shotgun clean of prints and put it back where he’d found it. Using the phone beside the window, he called 9-1-1, promising to wait for the officers to arrive. Then he pulled out his own cell phone and called Janet.
“I expected to hear from you fifteen minutes ago.”
It was nervous relief he heard, not accusation. He felt some of his tension slip away, knowing she cared more than she’d admit. “Sorry, had to call the cops first. He’s dead.”
She was silent for several seconds. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet and not entirely steady.
“Yeah, me, too.”
“Do you think it was the Colombians?”
He wanted to tell her that it absolutely was them, to at least put a name to her fears. But that might be minimizing the danger. “I don’t know, babe. They’re probably trying to track down the diamonds Banner bought, so it’s possible that’s what they were after. But that’s not all Sleazy dealt in, so it also could be someone who followed us in an effort to trace the Pellinni Jewels. The jewels won’t interest our Colombian friends. They’re worth a fortune, but only if they remain in their original settings. Pry the stones out, and you’ve got a handful of ordinary pearls and one big spinel. Not something drug runners would use to move money offshore.”
“You mean someone besides the Colombians might have killed Sleazy?”
“If they were after the Pellinni Jewels, yes. I’ll call Ben and have him contact the cops here to see if that gun I confiscated earlier could have been the murder weapon. Maybe we’ll get lucky and solve this quickly.” When she didn’t answer, he imagined her fear building, wondering if the same fate awaited her. He rushed to reassure her. “You’re not like Sleazy, Janet. You’re in a safe place, and you don’t go anywhere alone. And that’s the way it’s going to stay until we catch whoever did this.”
“I’m on my way to see Banner, Rocky. But I’m with Ben’s guard, I’ll be surrounded by police officers, and I’ll go directly home afterward.”
He gritted his teeth. “Once you’re home, stay there. It’s safer.”
He heard a deep sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”
Maybe she finally trusted him. But maybe it didn’t make any difference, because no matter how much they protected her, she would feel like a prisoner. He ached inside, wanting to make her feel better and knowing there wasn’t much he could do. “Look, this could take a while. I’ll have to talk to the officers, probably a homicide detective, too. I’ll come see you when I’m done.”
“You better.” She sounded as emotionally drained as he felt. “It’s not your fault, Rocky. You tried to warn him.”
She was trying to make him feel better? God, he needed to see her, to just hold her. “I’ll talk to you soon, babe. ’Bye.” He flipped the phone closed and leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. It had been three days since he’d stepped back into his former life, and the contrast between his two worlds had been even more staggering than he’d expected.
When he’d begun his criminal career, he hadn’t thought twice about what he had to do. It had been necessary, and so he’d become as skilled as possible until he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. The jail stint at the end was a fluke, but a lucky one since there he’d met Jack Payton, his best friend. And through Jack he’d met Ellie, who’d become his business partner. And through Ellie he’d met Janet, who’d become—well, he suspected she might become even more important to him than Jack. It would have been a perfect transition, except that it had led him full-circle to his previous life, and he’d stepped back into a fetid swamp of thieves, pawnbrokers, and killers.
He closed his eyes, shutting out his surroundings while he waited, hearing nothing but the sound of traffic outside and the occasional clicks and hums from the computer on the counter. And a tiny scratching sound.
He cracked his eyes open. The noise had come from his left, in the small space where Sleazy had once sat, smoking. Rocky stepped past the computer and looked around.
It came again, one little shuffling sound. This time he knew what it was, and turned with the first sense of relief he’d had since entering the shop.
“Adolf. How ya doin’, little guy?”
The pup wiggled, his paws making the same soft sound on the cage floor. He didn’t move from the back of his cage but one ear cocked toward Rocky, oversized and too big for his puppy head. The other ear flopped over, still not strong enough to stand up. The dog gave Rocky a confus
ed look, like he couldn’t choose between happy and sad. He whined.
“Bad day, huh?” He could only imagine what had gone on in the shop to cause the puppy to slink to the back of his cage and stay there. Things would only get worse for the poor guy—he’d be confiscated and sent to the pound. Or if he was lucky, a shelter. Either way, he’d just become homeless.
Rocky didn’t give his impulse a second thought. Grabbing the nylon leash beside the cage, he opened the door. “Come on, pup. Let’s get you out of here. You’re making a break for it before the cops come.” Whatever the dog had witnessed, he couldn’t testify to, and Rocky needed to salvage one good thing from this mess.
“Come on,” he coaxed again, patting the floor. The puppy crept forward, wriggling at Rocky’s feet. “Some watchdog you are. First thing we do is get you out of here. The second thing will be changing your stupid name.”
Adolf stuck by Rocky’s side as they walked to the car. The dog’s submissive demeanor made him feel a little less upset about Sleazy. He cracked the windows, even though it had started to rain. “Sorry, fella, you have to stay here for now. It can’t be any worse than that kennel.” He locked the doors and hoped his carpet and leather seats were stain-proof.
It was nearly an hour before the police allowed him to leave the pawnshop. The puppy hadn’t done more than track wet paw prints along the seats. Rocky walked him to the sidewalk where Adolpf piddled on a sorry scrap of grass, then put the pup in the car and called Janet.
“I’m on my way, but I have a few stops to make first.” He needed to buy food for Adolf, and a new cage. He hadn’t wanted to risk removing the pup’s old cage, since it was now part of a crime scene.
“Okay. I’m about to go inside the jail, so I’ll meet you at Elizabeth’s.” She paused. “You know, I was beginning to feel inadequate. I flash you in my sexiest bikini, and you disappear for hours.”
“Not because I wanted to, believe me.”
“Good, because I wasn’t done with you.”
He liked the sound of that. “I’m sorry, babe, but we may have to stick around the house for a while. I have someone with me.”
He listened through the tense silence, until she said one terse word. “Who?”
“A friend. I think you’ll like him.”
“I already don’t.”
“Now, now. You’re just being grouchy because you want to ravish my body.”
“Yes. Is your friend listening to this?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, he’s kind of young and not too bright.” He didn’t give her a chance to call him on that. “Hey, is Elizabeth home today?”
“Yes, why?” She was beginning to sound suspicious.
He reached out and scratched the pup’s floppy ear. “I have a present for her.”
“For Elizabeth?” He could almost see confusion, swimming in those beautiful eyes.
“Yup. See ya soon.” He clicked the phone off before she could ask more questions.
If he was lucky, Elizabeth would be in a better mood. He suspected he’d picked up some residual anger earlier just by benefit of being a male of the same species as Ben. Adolf was male, but a different species. It might be enough of a difference to get him through the massive Westfield front door.
Chapter
Ten
Janet wanted to see Banner as much as she wanted a pelvic exam. No, make that a lobotomy, because that’s what she should get for putting herself through this torture again.
The private security guards who Elizabeth had insisted escort her to the jail had been forced to wait outside. Janet sat in the bare waiting room with eight other people. Ten chairs sat in a row facing a clock on the wall, the room’s only adornment. She’d been there for an hour and seventeen minutes already and was rethinking her visit when a uniformed woman with a gun on her hip opened the door, followed by a male officer.
“Men over there,” the woman barked, pointing to the far wall. “Women over here.”
Janet lined up with the five other women. She’d been through this once before, but knowing what was coming didn’t make it any easier.
The fact that the guards had been through it hundreds of times showed in the female guard’s stern expression as she planted herself in front of the line and gestured with her handheld metal detector. “Take your shoes off.”
They complied, most of them quickly.
“Arms out,” she told Janet.
The guard ran a wand over her body, then patted her down. The procedure made her feel like a prisoner herself.
“Turn around, hands on the wall. Spread your legs.”
Janet obeyed, studiously counting ceiling tiles as she was patted down in places only recently explored by Rocky and her gynecologist. The woman straightened and stepped back. “Shoes on.”
She slipped her feet into her shoes, keeping her eyes to the front until the guard was done patting down the last woman in line. She didn’t care to watch anyone else go through the same dehumanizing process.
A minute later they were herded through a metal detector, then a door locked behind them with an audible click. An elevator took them up to the third floor, then released them through another locked doorway where a guard waited at a desk. Another armed guard, she noted, wondering if it was ever necessary to draw his weapon—and if it would be for a prisoner or a visitor.
Janet presented her key card and was directed to a position in front of a screened dividing wall. A ledge—it could hardly be called a desk—ran across the length of it, and she watched a man and woman lay papers on it. Lawyers, perhaps, visiting their clients. She’d come with nothing but questions and would have thirty minutes to get answers. She stood patiently for another ten minutes, and stared into the empty room on the other side.
A loud click signaled the opening door. Prisoners filed through, dressed in orange jumpsuits. One young man broke into a grin and rushed up to a pregnant young woman from her group, who beamed on the other side of the screen. Others sauntered indifferently to meet their visitors. Banner was the last to enter.
His icy blue gaze latched onto hers in a way she’d once thought was magnetic. Now it was just creepy. It pinned her as effectively as if she were a specimen displayed for his observation, even though it was Banner who should have been the oddity on display here—the wealthy businessman and community leader reduced to a lowly prisoner. But instead his posture was as erect as ever, his expression arrogant and aloof, and the body that should have looked soft and pale was even more toned after months behind bars. He had thrived in jail. It seemed logical in a way. The man was finally in his natural element, surrounded by other criminals, even if they weren’t as vicious and cold as he was.
He stood at the screen looking composed and slightly amused. “Hello, Janet.” His voice was smooth and seductive, like the snake speaking to Eve. “That’s an interesting new look. Less feminine, but I imagine it’s easier to maintain.”
Her hair. She’d forgotten he hadn’t seen her drastic cut. That he didn’t like it thrilled her as much as the fact that Rocky had. But she wasn’t stupid enough to please him by reacting to his thinly veiled criticism. “I came to ask you about some jewelry you bought.”
“Ah, yes. The Pellinni necklace.” At her startled look, he gave a condescending smile. “You didn’t think I’d find out about your aborted attempt to sell it? I do watch TV and read the newspapers, you know.”
“I hadn’t really thought about what you might have heard, but it’s nice to know you’re not totally isolated,” she countered.
His smile faded, and the skin tightened the tiniest bit around his eyes. Score. It was probably juvenile to admit, but it felt good.
“Did you purchase the rest of the Pellinni Jewels?” she asked, getting right to the point.
“I’m afraid not,” he said, looking regretful. His demeanor alone made his answer suspicious. “Of course, I didn’t know the necklace was stolen or I never would have bought it.”
“Of course.” Liar. She sm
iled, an insincere token to match her words. “But you must have seen the rest of the collection. Didn’t you want it?” Just knowing whether Sleazy had the whole collection to begin with would help. If they were broken up before they got to him, then maybe it hadn’t been a recent, local job after all.
He managed a genuinely puzzled expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall seeing them. But I looked at so many pieces trying to find the perfect gift for my new wife that it’s all a bit fuzzy.”
It sounded as rehearsed as it undoubtedly was. Banner and his lawyers were ready to refute any evidence related to money laundering. He’d only been buying a gift for his wife. Yeah, right—a priceless stolen necklace and a handful of loose diamonds.
“You don’t remember them, and yet you’re sure you didn’t buy them?”
“The necklace wasn’t exactly inexpensive, my dear. I think I’d remember if I spent money on anything else.”
“Like the diamonds.”
She noted the small hesitation before he rallied and drew his brows together in a decent imitation of confusion. “Diamonds?”
“The ones you bought with the necklace. Or the ones you bought from the same guy after that—take your pick.”
His eyes betrayed a flicker of surprise, and she took satisfaction in scoring a second hit before his calculating look was back. “I see my brother’s little friend has been helping you again. He did have some questionable connections as I recall. What was that ridiculous nickname he used—Rocky? A rather low-class image, isn’t it? But then, Jack never had sophisticated taste.”
He was fishing, and Rocky was another piece of bait she refused to take.
“The diamonds,” she reminded him.
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about any diamonds. Perhaps you have a receipt from the purchase that would refresh my memory?”
She flashed a tight smile. “No, no receipt.”
“Then I regret I can’t help you.” His eyebrows rose hopefully. “But there is something you can help me with.”
Thieves Like Us Page 16
