—
“What makes you think I want to go up against Drago Nance?”
Triggering the flick knife he held in his hand so the curved blade sprang free from the handle, Angel gave the other gangster his most ferocious scowl. “Don’t you forget how I covered for you when you screwed up that shipment. You owe me.”
“To go up against Drago? Not that much, I don’t.”
“Really? What if I told the others?” Without looking away from what he was doing—running a finger gently along the deadly blade—he asked, “What if the pigs found out?”
“You threatening me?”
“No threat, bro. Just speculation.”
Enough to make the snake in front of him dance. He was sweating. And his mouth must have gone dry because he kept licking his lips. No surprise. He knew he put fear into everyone’s gut.
“What do I have to do?” the other man finally asked.
“Help me get Drago Nance out of the way once and for all. I’ll let you know when, so you keep your cell charged. Only him, though. He won’t be alone, but the woman is mine. You hurt her, and you know what I can do to you.”
He slashed the blade through the air so close to the other gangster’s throat that he jumped back.
“Fuck you! I’ll do it, but fuck you anyhow!”
Angel smiled. This was the last one. His plan was in motion. He’d handpicked his team.
Tonight, Camille would be his in all the ways he’d imagined.
Chapter Thirteen
In a black mood, Drago drove more aggressively than he needed to, narrowly missing a car that turned onto the main street.
“Slow down, would you?”
Ignoring Camille’s protest, he gripped the steering wheel hard and wove between two cars and around another. He needed a way to release the tension that had built in him talking to LeRoy. He could easily believe Angel was one of the Humboldt Lords, the gang that had been the bane of his existence for two decades.
“Do you think Angel’s gang knows what he’s been up to?” Camille asked as she checked her smartphone, no doubt to see if the bastard had IM’d her again.
“Maybe.” If he thought it would do any good, he’d go straight to Tomas Huerta to ask, but Huerta would spit on him rather than give him a shred of information, especially since Angel was one of his boys. “Then again, gangs don’t usually plan murders like this. They keep it in house, like the old mafia did. One faction against the other.”
“But innocents get killed anyway.”
“Because gangbangers are notoriously bad shots,” Drago said. “They have no idea of how to handle the firepower they get their hands on.”
“And Illinois passing the right-to-carry-a-concealed-weapon law didn’t help things,” she admitted.
In Drago’s mind, it was more than that. “Gang members killing each other doesn’t have the same impact on the police as common citizens being targeted by a thief or a loved one.”
“Murder is murder, Drago.”
He knew she wouldn’t like hearing the truth, Camille being a cop and all. But he couldn’t help himself. He had to lay it on the table the way he saw it, whether or not she liked what she heard.
“You may believe that, but there are other cops who turn a blind eye on gang violence. I once heard a cop say, ‘Let them kill each other off. Less for us to clean up.’ ”
“That guy was an ass. That’s not how most of us think. We believe in letting the justice system take care of criminals, so don’t go around verbally beating up all cops like that!”
Even though he had good reason to? His teenage years fighting the Lords had been no picnic, and he’d never felt like anyone in authority had been on his side. But apparently she didn’t want to hear about it.
How could he and Camille have any kind of relationship if they couldn’t be honest with each other?
Thinking they needed a well-earned break from all this time they’d been spending together, he said, “I have some things I need to do, so I’m taking you to my place.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as I need!” he snapped.
He wanted to cool off and get some perspective, not only on Angel, but on Camille. Impossible to do when they were together 24/7, which they had been for more than two days.
“Fine.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence. He pulled to the curb in front of his place, handed her the key to his front door, and didn’t say a word as she got out. She stood there for a second with the door open.
Finally, she asked, “Are you taking yourself off the case?”
“Not a chance. Are you going to follow me again?”
“That depends. Where are you headed?”
“I just need some alone time.” Without thinking, he asked, “Can’t I take a break from you?”
Camille gaped at him for a moment before raising her voice. “All right! Don’t worry, I won’t follow you.”
Making Drago feel like a heel. He hadn’t meant that he was sick of being with her. He just needed some time on his own to figure things out.
“Sorry. I’m just in a mood. You know how that is, right?” She’d been in a mood off and on ever since they’d started the search. He guessed it was his turn now. “I’ll call you in a couple of hours when I get over myself.”
“Or when I figure out what to do next, I’ll call you.” Though she didn’t yell at him this time, Camille slammed the car door and stalked off toward the house.
Angry at the world for the moment, Drago nevertheless couldn’t help himself. With a longing born of regret—his needing space was due to the situation, not to her, and it had been wrong for him to be accusatory—he watched her until she got inside the house. And then he took off and just drove. The new angle to the case made him sick inside. It would bring him even deeper into a conflict that he’d been fighting practically his entire life. A conflict that seemed to have no end.
He couldn’t let it cloud his perspective on this case. Couldn’t afford to have his head so messed up by the past. Couldn’t afford to miss anything.
Saving the kid was the only thing that counted now.
The clock was ticking faster.
They could hope Angel would hold off killing Sandy as he had his other victims, but she wasn’t his type, so why would he keep a possible witness alive? Not a question he would be sharing with Camille. He needed her to keep a cool head, not go back to being stopped by her emotions or self-guilt.
Being rational allowed him to cool off, and he swung by Justus Investigations. His brother’s car sat directly outside the building. Good. Drago parked and went in, nodding as he approached the receptionist.
“Is Justus free?”
“He’s not with a client. But the new PI is in there with him.”
“Good.” That way he wouldn’t have to tell the story twice.
He knocked at his brother’s door then went straight in. Justus and Eva were looking over some folders. Both glanced up at the same time.
“You look like hell,” Justus said. “What happened? Where’s Camille?”
“I dropped Camille off at home. I needed some time to think.”
“About?”
“About the fact that Angel is a member of the Humboldt Lords.”
Justus muttered a string of particularly crude expletives under his breath.
“You’re sure about that?” Eva asked.
“We got it straight from LeRoy Walker, the head of the Insane Brotherhood.”
“We?” Justus went tight-lipped.
“Don’t go ballistic on me. You have to know Camille wouldn’t let me leave her behind.”
“Point taken.” Justus shook his head. “Are you certain you believe LeRoy Walker? It couldn’t be he’s just spewing hatred to start trouble?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’d like that. But, yes, I believed him. He told us he was riding by with his boys when Angel dumped the second victim on Logan Boulevard. Said he saw the brand on Angel�
�s arm clear as day.”
“But he didn’t identify him.”
“We already have his description. If LeRoy had recognized him, I don’t know how much it would have helped, because he probably would only have known Angel’s street name. Like Tomas Huerta goes by Rattlesnake. Skull and Zippo are his lieutenants and Blade is his enforcer.” He didn’t know all of their real names, but he did know they were all badasses. All very, very dangerous. They all wore the teardrop tattoos. “That wouldn’t give us their real identities, though it would have been easier to nail them. There is no one in the gang who calls himself Angel—at least not that I know of—so that’s probably just the moniker he uses online.”
“So what are you and Camille going to do with this information?” Justus asked.
“We didn’t discuss it.” Drago threw himself into the chair next to Eva and facing his brother. “I was a little wound up after we left LeRoy. Camille and I got into it a bit. I guess we’ll figure it out when we both cool down.”
Silence.
Drago met his brother’s gaze. He knew Justus was trying to read him. Not that he’d ever done so successfully. Or maybe he had but simply hadn’t wanted to go wherever Drago had been.
Finally, Justus asked, “What’s going on between the two of you? You and Camille?”
“Nothing that affects my investigative skills.” He’d never told Justus about his spending all that time with Camille. At first, he’d been too enthralled. And then he’d been in jail and pissed at his brother. He wasn’t about to get chatty now. Instead, he said, “We both like having control of a situation.” Which was absolutely true.
Justus raised an eyebrow. “Really. So she challenges you.”
Drago clenched his jaw, then said, “Don’t try to analyze me. Help me.”
“With Camille?”
“With finding Angel!”
“Maybe I can help.” Eva flashed them both a look of annoyance.
“You got something on Angel by talking to people in your neighborhood?” Drago asked.
She shook her head. “Sorry, nothing yet. But I do know a chola whose boyfriend is a member of the Humboldt Lords.”
Drago snorted. “Gangbangers don’t rat on each other to outsiders.”
“Isabel Diaz and I grew up together. We used to be really close until she decided to get with a gangbanger named Mateo. She was in love, you know. Not much you can do to talk sense into a sixteen-year-old girl in love. Now she has a different man. Another Humboldt Lord. Still not married. I think she still lives on the streets sometimes. Even though we went down different life paths, we’ve always kept a friendly distance.”
“And because of that, you think she might talk?” Drago couldn’t help but be skeptical.
“I don’t know, but it won’t hurt to try. I’m hoping she wouldn’t be so okay knowing a member of her boyfriend’s gang is abducting women to sexually abuse and then murder them.”
“Can you call her and find out?” Drago asked.
She gave him a look. “We’re not exactly on each other’s phone list.”
Justus said, “But you think you might be able to find her, right?”
“I know where her sister lives. And her mother.” Eva got to her feet and indicated the case file they’d been working on. “But it might take some time to track her down. I’ll probably have to wait till one of them gets home from work and hope either the mother or sister knows where to find Isabel. This new case can wait?”
“Absolutely.” Justus waved her off. “Go to it.”
When Eva left, Drago just sat there trying to decide what to do next.
Justus cleared his throat. “So, about you and Camille.”
Drago narrowed his gaze on his brother. “What is your problem?”
“I’m not the one with a problem. I think you are. I see how you look at Camille. And the way she looks at you when she thinks no one is watching.”
“It’s an intense case. Lots of stress.”
“There’s something intense going on, but I wouldn’t say it’s only the case.” Justus waited for a moment, but when Drago didn’t respond, he kept at it. “Talking might help.”
Drago scowled.
“Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt. I am your big brother.”
He was. The reason Drago was having a difficult time forgiving his only sibling. “A lot of good that did me when I sat in lockup month after month.”
“You know why I didn’t bail you out.”
“Because you never supported me.”
“I didn’t want to get that visit with the bad news from whoever got the case when you were found dead on the street! I never supported you? I kept you alive! I was so affected by the inequity of the system I worked for that I quit the force and started this company. What am I doing now? I helped you get your PI license. I gave you a job. Can’t you let the past go?”
“I’m trying.”
Only he couldn’t forget Justus leaving him to rot, no matter his reason. And he definitely couldn’t forget what had happened between him and Camille—what could have happened had he been freed. Impossible to forget, no matter how hard he tried to put it behind him.
Justus pulled a hand through his hair. “Well, that is just sad.”
“Yeah, maybe it is.” And maybe talking about something else—about Camille and him—would help. His brother wasn’t brainless. He already suspected there was something going on between them. Drago figured he might as well get it out into the open. “I’m pretty sure you don’t know this…I didn’t just meet Camille the other day.”
“Are you saying you knew her before I assigned you to her case?”
“Sort of. We spent some time together one weekend.”
“Time together? How did you even meet each other?”
“You and I had a beer at your cop bar that Friday night, but then you got a call on a case and had to leave. She came in looking for you to celebrate a case she’d just closed. She got me instead.”
“Got you. Literally?”
“Really literally. All weekend literally.”
Justus gaped at him. “I can’t believe you never told me. Then what happened?”
“Then I got arrested. I promised her I would call. I meant to call. Maybe if I’d been bailed out, I would have called. But no way was I going to put through a collect call to a woman who got to me.” Collect calls being the only way he could have spoken to her from jail, unless she had called him.
“And she still gets to you.” Justus’s forehead pulled in a frown. “After four years. That’s a new record. I don’t remember you being interested in any woman after four months. Four weeks even. And I don’t ever remember any woman being able to get to you like this, either. So what’s been going on between the two of you? You’ve been at each other’s throats the past two days?”
“Throats…and pretty much everywhere else.” Another night as memorable as that weekend they’d spent together.
Understanding lit his brother’s expression. “Okay. I don’t need the details.”
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on giving them to you.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Our being together doesn’t make sense. We have different belief systems.”
“Not so different. You both have savior complexes.”
Drago started. “Bullshit! I just want what’s right.”
“But you don’t leave the solution to someone else. Neither does she. It would torture you both to do so.”
“She’s a cop. She sees everything in black and white.”
“Not everything or she wouldn’t have been after Angel on her own to begin with,” Justus reminded him. “Besides, you don’t need another you, Drago. You need someone to complement you, someone with a different perspective who can pull you back when you go too far. Because you do go too far. You always have.” His expression intense, Justus said, “I think Camille Martell could be exactly what you need in your life.”
Chapter Fourte
en
Drago wasn’t the only one who’d needed a break. Camille felt as if she were drowning. She’d needed air. The ability to take a private breath. She and Drago had spent the last two days joined at the hip. And the last night joined far more intimately so many times she’d lost count. They’d practically made up for four years of separation in one night. Emotions were now battering her without a break. Guilt. Regret. Want. They made her impulsive. They taxed her strength. She didn’t know what she was going to do about Drago. What she did know was that even thinking about him—rather, thinking about them—needed to be put on hold.
With renewed purpose, she pulled her laptop from her suitcase, got online, and searched various dating chat rooms for Angel. He wasn’t signed in anywhere. Hoping he might be looking for her, she went back to the one where she’d finally connected with him. Hoping he was there, watching for her, she signed in. She waited for several minutes, rethinking strategy, when Angel popped up in the signed-in column.
Heart thudding, she focused. “C’mon, you bastard, talk to me.”
He waited her out as the usual sexy chatter and ads went on.
Minutes ticked by, threatening to shatter her nerves. What if he simply signed back out? Fearing that might happen if she didn’t act now, she began typing…
Morrigan: Been looking for you, Angel.
Angel: bet you have. Missed me, didn’t you?
hotgirl: skype hotgirl69 for window to my bedroom
Morrigan: Not my fault. Meet now?
Angel: sorry…won’t find me unless I want you to.
BigMan: I’m available, Red.
Cougar: Available, but not worth it!
Morrigan: Angel, when we gonna meet?
Angel: when you least expect
Morrigan: Why not now?
Angel clicked out.
Making Camille want to scream in frustration.
Not ready to give up, she IM’d him: You obviously want to meet me, so why the disappearing act? This is your chance, Angel. Surely you’re not afraid…
As she waited for a response, her pulse quickened. And when it came, her heart nearly stopped: You’re the one who should be afraid, Detective Martell.
Detective?
Dangerous Page 15
