The Wrong Side of Dead sj-2

by Jordan Dane

  But the creak of a loose floorboard forced her to stop.

  Holding her gun in both hands, she listened for a beat, then crept along a wall, hoping to avoid the same mistake of stepping on a creaky board. Up ahead, she sensed a presence, and the hair on her neck drove goose bumps down her arms. She fixed her eyes on a subtle movement across the floor, a vague shift of light.

  Or had she only imagined it?

  Jessie. She had to remember that Jessie had gone missing in the house. The shadow up ahead could be her. Alexa gripped her weapon and crept closer, but movement to her right startled her. She turned and aimed her weapon. An open doorway.

  That’s when she heard it.

  “It’s me,” the bounty hunter whispered from behind cover, then moved into view. Not much more than a shadow, she raised her arms and let herself be seen.

  But if Jessie had been to her right, who stood in the shadows ahead?

  Alexa wouldn’t wait to find out the hard way. Without a word of warning to Jessie, she held up her weapon and headed to the next doorway down the hall. She saw the bounty hunter tense beside her and fall into step.

  Down to the left, a shadow moved and eclipsed a very faint light. It drifted as if it were a ghost. And she heard a muffled gasp, at least she thought she had. With her heart hammering her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Alexa pushed her shoulders to a wall and inched closer for a better look.

  She held her breath and peered around the corner.

  Across the room, she spied a pale glimmer under another door, one with a series of heavy metal brackets, like coat hooks, screwed on the outside of it. And movement obscured the light that spilled onto the floor. Someone was behind the door.

  Alexa stepped into the room with Jessie at her back. She moved to the closed door, wedging her body along the far doorjamb. And Jessie took the nearest one. The sparse light from below cast eerie shadows into the room, shedding light on the haunted eyes of the bounty hunter. She’d never seen Jessie frightened like this. The woman was normally rock solid, but something had a firm hold on her.

  She nudged her head toward Jessie—her way of asking if she was ready. When the bounty hunter grimaced and gave her attitude with one look, Alexa knew Jessie would back her up.

  Being cautious, she listened at the door and heard the soft gasp again. With another nod, she signaled to Jessie and reached for the doorknob. She turned it slowly and realized it was open. One more time she caught the eye of the bounty hunter, then shoved the door open.

  Gun drawn, she charged inside, with Jessie close behind. Half the room was steeped in shadows, but a dim light shone from a far corner. It was enough to force her to wince, protecting her night vision.

  What the hell…?

  It was the last thought she remembered.

  Alexa entered the room first, taking the lead into a windowless chamber that was dark except for a single light on the floor. The beam reflected up, positioned against the far wall. With her Colt Python aimed, Jess avoided squinting into the light that would screw with her night vision. Instead her eyes fixed on a dark silhouette of a man sitting across the room. His shoulders were slumped, and the dim light profiled his face.

  She didn’t see what happened to Alexa until it was too late.

  Jess heard a loud thud and caught a glimpse of another man, his movement a blur. Alexa’s body blocked her view. And time slowed to a sluggish crawl. She watched as her arm shifted, holding the Colt Python, but Alexa collapsed into her. The blow knocked her off-balance. It took everything she had to hold on to her gun, but Alexa’s weapon skittered into the dark.

  When Jess hit the floor, Alexa collapsed on top of her. She shoved the woman aside and grappled for her footing. But as she got to her knees, she came face-to-face with a gun muzzle pointed dead center, right between her eyes. That was enough incentive to stop her cold.

  Panting, Jess knew she’d been beat. She slowly set her gun down and shoved it toward the man, then raised her hands, hoping he wouldn’t shoot.

  “Okay…okay. You win.” She took a quick look down to see if Alexa was still breathing. She never saw what happened. “What did you do to her?”

  Alexa had a nasty gash over her eyebrow. Blood pooled under her head, making her blond hair glisten in the faint light. Jess wanted to stop the bleeding, but when she leaned toward the woman, a man’s booming voice stopped her.

  “You…stay put,” he ordered, raising his weapon and kicking her gun behind him into the dark. “By the time your friend wakes up, this’ll all be over.”

  He made it seem as if Alexa would walk away from this, but she knew better. Jess shifted her gaze to the spiky-haired man with a nose ring, who had grown careless with his gun, waving it in the air to punctuate his demands. It took her a moment to recognize him, but when she did, surprise made her flinch. And remembering his name had challenged her too.

  “Jake Cordell, isn’t it?” She forced a smile when he lowered his weapon. “You’re a long way from Dirty Monty’s. What’s this got to do with you?”

  She hated admitting her ignorance, but getting him to talk was important. Her mind raced with why Jake was willing to kill to cover his ass. He wasn’t a drug-dealing pimp, or a thug with an attitude and a quick knife, or even a guy trying to hide stolen merchandise. The guy was the bartender at Dirty Monty’s—a damned barkeep—the bastard who had her chasing after tattoos and no doubt lied about everything he’d told her about Mandy.

  In an instant she realized she was back at square one—and completely screwed.

  “No way. I got the gun. That means I ask the questions.” He narrowed his eyes, anger seething behind them. “This kid should’ve come alone. Now you’re all fucked.”

  He clenched his jaw, looking real mean. But when he realized that whatever plan he had, it was about to blow up, his face got red, and he yelled, “Why are you here, damn it?”

  Spittle ran down his chin. And she heard the panic in his voice. The man looked like it wouldn’t take much to shove him over the edge. He walked toward the door, looked outside to make sure they didn’t have company, then shut it. Guess he didn’t like surprises. Her eyes followed Jake, looking for a way to get a jump on him. But being on her knees gave her a disadvantage.

  Recognition flickered in the bartender’s eyes. He stared at her, then jabbed his gun into her face, and asked, “Hey…didn’t you say you worked for an insurance company?” When she shrugged, he spat, “You lied!”

  Given all that had happened, the guy was actually pissed at her for lying? Unbelievable.

  “Murder trumps lying. Guess you win.” When humor didn’t defuse the situation, she tried a distraction. “Where’s Seth, by the way?”

  She tried to keep the edge from her voice. But when Jake’s eyes shifted to the floor behind her, she slowly turned her head to look.

  “Oh no,” she gasped. “Seth.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Her eyes took in the rest of the room for the first time as Jess rocked back on her haunches, taking the weight off her knees. The gasp they’d heard outside the door must have been Seth’s father, Max. At the edge of the shadows, the feeble man sat on a wooden bench, his wheelchair missing. He quietly sobbed, staring down at the body of his son.

  That’s when she saw Seth. His foot was bent at an odd angle. Belly down, he lay twisted on the floor at his father’s feet, with most of his body in darkness. And the familiar tang of blood hit her. She willed him to move, but when he didn’t, she searched for any signs of breathing. There were none.

  Jess nearly choked. Her body shook. And something deep inside her broke. The onset of another panic attack gripped her, but when she crawled toward Seth, Jake stopped her with a vicious kick. She rolled to lessen the blow, but he’d gotten a piece of her ribs.

  “Don’t move! Or I’ll kill the old man,” he yelled, shoving the gun barrel against Max’s head. “Nothing you can do for the kid anyway.”

  She grimaced in pain and fixed her eyes on the man w
ith the gun.

  “Is Seth…” She couldn’t say it.

  Looking deranged, Jake paced the floor and ran a nervous hand through his hair, the whites of his eyes showing. His mind elsewhere.

  “This is all wrong,” he muttered. “It didn’t have to go down like this. This was supposed to look like the kid offed himself.”

  It pained her to think about Seth. And if she had been alone with Jake, with no one else to worry about, she would have taken out her rage on him. But that wasn’t the case. Max needed her help, and Seth would have wanted her to take care of his father. That meant she wouldn’t wait for a crazy man with a gun to decide their fate. After taking a deep breath, she forced herself to deal with their grim situation and the bastard holding them at gunpoint.

  “Tell me about Mandy, Jake.”

  She’d been careful not to accuse him of killing the girl. And even though reminding the man of his body count was a risk, she had to get him talking to buy time. And maybe with luck, he’d make a mistake.

  “Wasn’t my fault,” he rambled as he fidgeted, scratching his head with the muzzle of his gun. “She brought it on herself. Not me.”

  “The crank made her crazy?” She gave him an opening to tell his version of the truth, acting as if she were on his side.

  Ignoring her—maybe not even hearing her question—Jake pointed his gun at Seth, and ranted, “You know that kid really screwed it up. He had that whore believing she could change her life and get clean. And that bitch believed him,” he screamed, his voice cracking. “It was his fault.”

  Jess saw him losing control and moved a leg to put one foot on the floor, balancing her weight on a knee. In his condition, Jake might not see her shift position, but if she had leverage, she could rush him.

  “But why kill her…that way?” she asked, keeping her posture passive with head low.

  “I asked that, too.” He laughed. A strangled guttural sound. “She could’ve OD’d. That would’ve done it.” He gestured wildly. “And none of us would be here…like this.”

  It took a moment for his words to register.

  “Asked who, Jake?” She softened her voice, downplaying her desperate need to know. “Who else was involved in Mandy’s murder?”

  “No one,” he yelled, pointing his gun at her again. “SHUT UP! Just shut up…so I can think.”

  As fast as the guy was unraveling, he didn’t strike her as the mastermind behind all this.

  “Why was she killed, Jake?” she pressed.

  At first, she wasn’t sure he’d answer. He shot her a glare and aimed his gun, taking away her breath. But eventually he lowered the weapon.

  “Desiree overheard something she shouldn’t have,” he began. Then in a move that surprised her, Jake added, “It was my fault.”

  “What do you mean, your fault?”

  “She overheard a conversation about a side business I had going.” He shook his head. “I thought she’d be cool…keep her mouth shut out of…gratitude. Hell, I let her operate under Beladi’s nose, for cryin’ out loud, but that wasn’t enough for her.”

  “She ask you for money?” Her way of asking about Mandy’s blackmail scheme.

  “Yeah, said she wanted to leave town.” Jake raised his voice. “That kid convinced her she could start a new life, like her slate could be wiped clean. Can you believe it?” With his chest heaving, he never slowed his pace. Jake looked like a caged hamster running a wheel, with no place to go. “I would’ve been okay with payin’ her off, but…”

  He stopped.

  “But someone didn’t think that was good enough,” she took a guess. “…and didn’t trust your judgment?”

  The bartender didn’t reply, but if looks could kill, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think the lethal laser shooting from his eyes could smoke her.

  What the hell had Jake been thinking to lay claim to a piece of the smoker’s turf? Nadir Beladi hadn’t built his drug and prostitution business by playing nice. The man was smart and a damned viper when it came to controlling what was his. And being surrounded by family, he had others covering his back. That was why the DA had had trouble pinning murders and other crimes on him.

  But Jake definitely had an accomplice. Someone more ruthless with an edge of cruelty had tricked him into staging Harper’s suicide, which included the heartless murder of an old man with dementia—a move that was lower than low.

  “What little enterprise did you have going on the side?” she asked out of curiosity. “Prostitution?”

  She remembered what he’d said about allowing Mandy to conduct her blow-and-go freelance work down the street from the bar, a solo act that kept her in crank. Maybe the bartender hadn’t lied about everything he’d told her. But when he didn’t answer, she guessed something else.

  “Fencing stolen merchandise?”

  That got a reaction. Jake looked at her with eyes narrowed. Had Mandy been the link between Jake “the snake” Cordell and her old boyfriend, Jason Burke?

  “I’m done talking,” he said.

  But Jess wasn’t done asking. “Weren’t you afraid Beladi and Pinzolo would find out you were operating under their noses?”

  By his sudden reaction, she knew she’d struck a chord. The madman with the wild eyes was back. He aimed his gun at her head, and yelled, “Shut the fuck up!”

  Jess knew she had pushed too hard.

  It took all her concentration to think through what he’d told her. Keeping her mind off Seth’s body had been a challenge. But now she had to focus on getting Max and Alexa out of here—the strain made worse as she glanced toward the old man.

  Normally Max had a vacant stare, but now he looked at her. His tear-filled eyes locked onto hers, and his lips moved without a sound, his frustration clear. She had to do something. And without Alexa’s help, whatever happened would be up to Jess.

  She had no one else.

  Sam stood outside the stone wall of the house on High Street, staring at the grounds awash in moonlight. No sign of movement and no lights, but with the windows boarded up, she didn’t expect to see much.

  Ray hadn’t arrived yet, so she was faced with a decision. Should she wait for backup to arrive?

  Taking a risk, she gripped her weapon and made her way around the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign that Jessie and Alexa had been there. Soft turf from the earlier rain made it slow going. And her shoes got caked in mud, but she got her answer as she neared the front door.

  Muddy footprints.

  Even under a cloudy night sky, she saw dark prints on cement. Two different sets. She listened for sounds coming from inside the old mansion. None came. But something else seized her heart in a cruel vise. She ran from the house and stood on the grounds to get a better look from a distance. It took a moment for her to see it.

  Through the boards covering the windows, a red glow flickered into the darkness. And soon she felt the heat and smelled the distinct odor of—

  “Smoke,” she gasped. “Oh, Jessie.”

  The first floor of the Millstone mansion was on fire. And she had no doubt Jessie and Alexa were inside.

  “Damn it!”

  Sam holstered her gun and raced to the front entrance. She charged the door and kicked, despite the boards nailed across it. She hit it twice, barely budging it. When that didn’t work, she yanked at the boards like a madwoman, hoisting a foot against the doorjamb to give her leverage. After one two-by-four came loose, she tossed it aside and tried again. This time she got a clearer shot and kicked again.

  It cracked open. And the heat from a wall of flames nearly blew her back, scorching her skin.

  “Jessie!” she yelled, and cowered, raising a hand to cover her face.

  When she didn’t get an answer, Sam shrugged out of her wet windbreaker and covered her mouth and nose with the damp garment. She took a deep breath and ducked through the door.

  She wasn’t going to let Jessie down this time.

  Jess heard a loud crack echo through the house, and some
one yelled, but the words were garbled and she couldn’t make them out. She turned to see smoke filtering through the base of the door.

  “Fire…there’s a fire,” she cried, and scrambled to her feet.

  “No. NO!” Jake aimed his gun at her, but ran for the door. He grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. “Shit!” With eyes bulging, he backed off and waved his weapon at her again, yelling, “You…Open it! Now!”

  Jess did as she was told, twisting the knob with both hands. It turned as if it were unlocked, but still didn’t open. She yanked on it again, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s not locked, but something is blocking it on the other side. I can feel it.” She took a step back and kicked the door. Still nothing. “If it’s bolted from the outside, we’re in trouble. Since you’ve got the gun, you gotta decide what to do, Jake.”

  The bartender had control of their situation, but when she turned, the man’s face looked stark white. His chest heaving, Jake looked as if he were hyperventilating. And fear gripped her when she remembered seeing the strange metal brackets screwed to the door. They looked like antique clothes hooks, but now she knew they were more than that. Someone had locked them in, bolted the door from the outside.

  “Who’s out there, Jake?” she pressed. “Who set you up?”

  She could tell by the look on his face that she’d hit the mark.

  “No, that can’t be…I didn’t kill her. I swear.” Fear replaced Jake’s crazed rage. “I never killed anyone.”

  With the noise in the room, Alexa stirred and moaned, raising a hand to her head. Wincing in pain, she rolled to one side. “What…happened?”

  Jess dropped to the floor near her and brushed back her hair. “Are you okay? Can you stand?” She helped Alexa to her feet. The woman was groggy and unsteady on her feet, but she quickly recovered.

  “Jake was telling me about Mandy, but we got a more pressing problem.”

  She pointed, and Alexa turned toward the door. When she saw the smoke, she shook her head. “This doesn’t look good for the home team.”