For a moment, I debated taking a walk down the road toward town to see if I could get a signal. I had a gun. I wasn’t some weak, cowering woman who couldn’t fight for herself, and needed her man here to take care of her. But the fright I’d had by the lake had left me exhausted. I couldn’t face another walk. I was also starving, so rather than leaving the safety of the cabin, I heated myself some soup on the stove. I ate it with a chunk of crusty bread and butter, and, needing sleep more than anything else, I took myself back to bed.
I just hoped that when I woke X would be home.
Chapter Six
X
One thing I was good at was watching and waiting. I possessed patience and didn’t rush things, and that meant I was more likely to get the information I needed, and less likely to do anything rash.
Sitting in the old truck across the street from Mickey Five Fingers’ house, I was putting all those skills into play. I’d reached New York City without further incident, and now I needed to get an idea of a number of factors—when was the busiest time of the day for comings and goings, how many people were in the house, what kind of firepower did the men have on them—before I made any kind of move. I wanted to see what Vee’s father’s attitude was—was he cautious and keeping his head down, or was he cocky and celebrating, wandering around with a fat cigar clamped between his teeth? The thing I hoped most for, though, was seeing Nicole coming and going like any normal teenager. I wanted to see her laughing with friends, perhaps heading out to the mall, so I could go back to Vee and report that her sister was happy and well. I felt like Vee might be able to let all this nasty business with her father go if she was able to come to terms with her own guilt. Nicole being fine would go a good way toward that.
I’d parked on a bend, behind a small copse of trees, their trunks partially hiding the truck from the house, while still allowing me a view of the gates.
The house Vee grew up in was like a bigger version of Tony’s house, with high walls surrounding the property and big electric gates shutting it off from the rest of the neighborhood. It felt strange to think Vee had grown up around such wealth. I never thought of her as being from a rich background, even though she clearly was. She didn’t have that air about her at all. The obvious money was so opposite to my own upbringing, the thrift store furniture, wooden walls, and cheap carpets. I hadn’t noticed anything different about how I lived back then. It had been normal to me, as had the regular punishments and numerous beatings I’d sustained. I’d gone to school knowing I was different from the other kids—that my clothes weren’t the labels others had, my hair unwashed and uncombed, my shoes scuffed. The other kids in the schoolyard had formed a tight circle if I ever dared to approach, making sure I remained on the outside. Even the other kids who didn’t quite fit in didn’t want to talk to me. Perhaps even from that young age, they’d instinctively known there was something different about me. Something coldhearted. Something wrong.
Perhaps I hadn’t been the product of my adoptive parents. Perhaps I would have ended up as a killer, regardless.
The thought made my mind turn to my own child, now growing inside Vee’s belly. Could the two of us raise a child to become a normal member of society? Would we be able to give a baby the sort of childhood we’d never had—for the child to grow up loved and secure and given everything he or she needed?
As I waited, evening turned to night, but still I saw no activity from the house. I slipped into the trancelike state I often found myself in during a stakeout, drawing deeper into my thoughts, while remaining aware of what was going on around me. I wished I was back with Vee in the cabin, her beautiful body curled up against me, the little miracle we’d created nestled safely inside her. I was doing this for Vee, I reminded myself, and for our child-to-be. I had to keep her at the forefront of my mind.
Time slipped by, and still there was no movement from the house. I didn’t buy that it was quiet because it was nighttime. Mickey Five Fingers would be catching up on a lot of business since being released, and plenty of that business also happened during nocturnal hours. Was he keeping his head down because he’d recently been let out of prison? He didn’t strike me as the kind of man to do that. I’d expected him to be reasserting his status and control over everyone around him. I couldn’t imagine Vee was the only one who’d done him wrong while he’d been inside. Others would surely have tried to move in on some of his territory, just as Tony the Hound had been planning.
The lack of activity frustrated me. I’d hoped to have some kind of information by now, but instead I had nothing. If this continued, I would need to have a different plan other than watching and waiting. I would need to be more proactive to get myself either in front of, or near to, Mickey Five Fingers, and in particular his youngest daughter.
Chapter Seven
V
I opened my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room. A shape stood beside the gap in the open bedroom door, the light from the hallway illuminating the person from behind and making them more defined. I blinked, trying to bring myself from the wooziness of sleep. I’d been exhausted when I’d crawled into bed, and fallen asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.
What was X doing, just standing in the doorway like that?
No, wait. My half asleep mind tried to piece things together. X was in New York, trying to hunt down my father and check up on the safety of my sister. Was he back already? He must be. But then I realized the shape of the person was all wrong—too tall. And why would X just be standing there, watching me?
Panic catapulted inside me, and I sprang instantly awake. I moved in a slick motion, reaching beneath my pillow to snag the gun I’d placed under there before going to bed, and then rolling away from the figure and the door, off the side of the bed, to crouch beside it. My breathing came hard, my heart hammering in my chest.
Who the hell was that?
I stayed in position, my ass on the floor, my back against the side of the bed, the gun clutched between my hands. I was ready to shoot. No one lurking in a woman’s bedroom in the middle of the night meant any good.
My eyes needed a minute to adjust to the darkness. A gap in the drapes allowed a little moonlight to filter through, but it wasn’t enough to allow me to see clearly. I wanted to peek over the top of the mattress to make sure he hadn’t approached and I had missed the footsteps, but I was worried a bullet would take off the top of my head if I did.
No, my midnight visitor could have killed me in my sleep if he wished. If they wanted me dead, they’d have done it already.
I dropped to my knees and elbow and crawled down to the end of the bed. I got a fairly decent view of the room from that angle, though the dark didn’t help. Inching my gun out first, I gradually followed it with my head. My eyes scanned the room, initially falling on the spot by the door where I’d seen the figure. The space was empty now. He was gone. I’d expected this. The person had seen me move in the bed, had most likely noticed me grabbing the weapon. They weren’t just going to hang out in open sight, waiting to be shot.
I risked edging out a little farther, checking the rest of the room. As far as I could see, it was empty. Was the door open a little more than before? He must have slipped back out as soon as I’d seen him. Dammit. Whoever it was, they were playing with me. I had a horrible feeling I knew the person’s identity. How had he found me? Had he waited for X to leave before deciding to play a little game of cat and mouse? Was this his idea of fun?
Slowly and quietly, I got to my feet. I couldn’t stay here, hiding in the bedroom like a small child afraid of what terrors might be lurking in the dark. I was capable, and I was armed. If my father was in the cabin, trying to frighten me, I’d shoot him on sight. I wouldn’t even hesitate.
I moved to the door and placed my shoulder against it, leaning toward the gap. I was trying to get a sense of someone being beyond the door—breathing, a shuffling footstep—anything that would give me a clue. Nothing but the strange silence of night came back t
o me, almost a ringing of tinnitus in my ears. I didn’t get the feeling of anyone beyond.
Slipping out into the hallway, I stayed alert for any sign of movement. I passed another bedroom door, which was shut. He might be hiding in there, but I’d deal with the open doors first. I reached the bathroom and quickly checked inside. It was empty. He would have been stupid to choose that as a hiding place—the window was too small to escape from. Was that how he’d gotten into the cabin? I was sure I’d locked all the doors when I’d gone to bed.
The living area was open plan, the kitchen divided from the living space by a breakfast bar.
Come on, where the hell are you?
Had he slipped out already? If he didn’t intend to cause me harm, what the hell had he been doing?
Perhaps I was wrong about the person’s identity. It might have been teenagers from the local town, believing the cabins to be empty and coming up here to drink and party with their friends. They might have been as surprised to see me as I was to see them.
A breeze outside lifted the drapes on the sliding doors, so they fluttered against the windowpane. I held my breath, waiting, watching.
A thud and scrape from above my head made me look up. Was someone on the roof? Then I realized the same breeze that had caused the drapes to move had also made the branches of the trees surrounding the cabins scrape against the tiles.
Had I dreamed the whole thing? Had I opened my eyes, not really awake yet, and my dream had followed me into real life, and I’d imagined seeing someone standing there? It was crazy, but I couldn’t think of any other explanation.
It suddenly dawned on me that the drapes shouldn’t be moving. There shouldn’t be a breeze, as I’d locked everything up. With my heart in my throat, I hurried over to check. The sliding doors leading out onto the decking were ajar by no more than an inch.
“What the hell?”
I was sure I’d locked them earlier, hadn’t I?
I’d been in such a panic after bumping into the old man by the lake. I’d rushed back here and locked them. Had I gone out there since? I didn’t think I had, but yes, it was a possibility. Perhaps I’d opened them to let some fresh air in and forgotten to close them properly.
It was either that or someone had opened them. Someone had a key, or was able to pick a lock.
I wished more than anything that X was here. I shouldn’t have let him go off to the city. He could be in trouble himself, and here I was running around the cabin in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts with a gun. I’d heard of pregnant women losing a few brain cells and behaving erratically during their pregnancy, but I hadn’t expected it happening quite this early on.
Shit.
I yanked the sliding doors shut again, and clicked the lock into place. These kinds of doors weren’t the most secure things in the world. Perhaps I had just forgotten to lock it properly, and then my mind had been playing tricks on me.
I suddenly remembered I hadn’t checked the bedroom with the closed door.
Fresh panic surged through me and I raced to the bedroom, still clutching the gun. Partly out of fear, partly from anger and frustration at myself, I shoved open the door and reached out to slam on the light.
It revealed an empty room.
I breathed out a shaky sigh.
I was losing my damned mind.
My hands were trembling. I knew I wasn’t going to be sleeping again tonight.
Now I was sure there was no one else in the house with me, I retrieved the cell phone X had left me with. I checked the screen, but I had no coverage. I didn’t know why I thought that would have changed. I wanted nothing more than to hear his voice.
Instead, I carried both the phone and the gun back into the living room. I’d make myself a hot drink and sit and watch the sun come up over the lake. I felt a little calmer now, more embarrassed and annoyed with myself than anything else. I wasn’t normally one for getting spooked, but I guessed after everything that had happened, I couldn’t really blame myself.
I made herbal tea, and then took it to the couch. I curled my legs up under my body, and held the gun on my lap and the tea in the other hand. I took tiny sips as I waited for the sun to rise.
Chapter Eight
X
My patience had worn out.
I’d been sitting in the truck for almost seven hours, not even getting out to take a piss, and I’d seen no movement of anyone coming and going from the house.
I was going to need to take a different tactic.
Using the cell phone to check online via Google Earth, I could see there was no way in or out of the property other than the gates. The tall walls surrounding the place were all topped with coils of barbed wire, so the property looked like a prison. It made sure I wouldn’t be getting in or out of the house via the walls. Short of being airlifted, parachuted, or catapulted into the house, the only way of getting inside was going to mean me finding a way through those gates.
I’d bought a baseball cap from a gas station outside of the city. I’d kept it on my head while I’d been sitting in the car, figuring it offered me another level anonymity. I would need to use it now, to hide my face as I took a walk by the house and made sure I hadn’t missed anything. It was early hours, and the sun hadn’t yet risen, though the sky had lightened to a dusky shade of violet. Day would paint the sidewalk and houses with light soon, and I wanted to have a plan in mind before it did.
I didn’t want to take my eyes off the gates to Mickey Five Fingers’ property, but I needed to take a comfort break. I’d been awake all night and needed an injection of caffeine if I was going to make any sensible decisions. Plus, my bladder was full to bursting, and while I wasn’t averse to pissing on the street if I had to, I didn’t want to do anything to bring extra attention to myself.
I’d passed a service station a couple of blocks away.
Leaving my truck where it was, figuring I needed to stretch my legs before they seized up, I walked the couple of blocks. I kept the cap on, my head down, in case one of Vee’s father’s men happened to drive by as I walked. I was able to use the restroom at the gas station then grabbed a double espresso from the machine inside, which I dumped a whole heap of sugar into and then downed. I crumpled the paper cup and dropped it into the trashcan. I didn’t want to leave my stakeout on Mickey’s place for too long, knowing it would only take a matter of minutes to miss something.
As I walked back, feeling boosted by the caffeine, a guy in a familiar brown UPS uniform walked down the street, his gaze focused on the handheld computer he grasped between his fingers. He appeared to be looking for an address, a parcel wedged under his arm. His truck was parked a little farther down the street on the opposite side of the road.
I needed to act quickly, while there was no one else around. Plastering my brightest smile to my face, I called out to the delivery man. “Hey, that for me? I’m expecting a delivery.”
He hadn’t even noticed me until I’d spoken, and looked up with a frown marking his brow to find me standing directly in front of him.
“Sorry, buddy,” I said, before ramming my elbow up into his throat. He fell back, clutching his throat and gasping for breath. I knew the move would debilitate him long enough to get him back to the truck. I scooped up the package and the handheld computer. Luckily, the screen hadn’t cracked. I’d need to figure out how to work it, so I could bring up something that remotely looked like I knew what I was talking about.
I bent and hauled the delivery guy over my shoulder, breaking into what loosely passed as a run to get him back to his truck as quickly as possible. I propped him up against the rear of the truck and felt on his belt for the keys. I found them. Opening the back, I checked either side to make sure no one was around, and then pushed him inside and climbed in with him.
“What—?” he managed to rasp.
“Shut up, or I’ll elbow you in the throat again.” That made his mouth clamp shut. “I need your clothes.”
He gave me a bewildered stare
.
I huffed out a breath of frustration and bent to start on the guy’s buttons. Panic flashed across his features.
“Jesus,” I said. “It’s not like that. I just need your damned clothes, okay?”
I pulled out my gun from the back of my pants, and the man’s eyes widened with fear. I had no intention of using the weapon, and had only taken it out so it didn’t fall from the waistband of my jeans when I took them off, but he didn’t need to know that.
He seemed to realize I wasn’t kidding, and that I’d undress him myself if I had to, though I’d prefer to go without that experience. He stripped off, intermittently coughing and making strange sounds in the back of his throat. But finally he was able to hand me a bundle of clothes.
I pulled the shirt on over the t-shirt I was already wearing, and then discarded my pants in favor for the uniform.
“Here.” I threw them to the guy. “You can have these.” We were a similar size and shape, so the clothes fit well enough. He glanced down at them and then picked them up to pull over his underwear.
Fully dressed, I checked the pockets for a cell phone. I found one and threw it to the ground, and then jumped down from the back of the truck and stamped on it, shattering it into a hundred tiny pieces. Then I took the keys of the truck, together with the package and the handheld computer, and slammed the rear doors on the man. I used the key to lock him in. The last thing I needed was for him to recover fully and go for help.
I straightened myself up. I needed to look and act the part.
I debated whether or not to take the gun with me, or to dump it back in the truck. I wasn’t expecting to get full access to the house—I’d be lucky if I made it past the gates—but I didn’t want them to search me and find it. Then again, if they were suspicious of me enough to search me, I might end up needing the weapon anyway. I decided to keep it on me, wedging it into the dip at the small of my back and loosening the shirt around it. I took the parcel and handheld computer, mimicking the way the guy I’d shut in the truck had been holding it, then I took a breath and walked to Mickey Five Fingers’ house.
Flawed (The Mercenary Series Book 3) Page 4
