“I’m not here because of Cooper’s debt,” Nathan said. “I’m here because of mine.”
Chapter 11
“That’s some file you assembled on Sproule, Hayley,” Nathan said, hitching one leg over the edge of Cooper’s desk. His leather jacket was hooked on an open drawer of the filing cabinet and his helmet rested on top. What he wore beneath the jacket had surprised Hayley: it was a crisp, white cotton dress shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders with a fit that appeared custom-made and expensive. He loosened the knot of the copper-colored silk tie that hung below his open collar and thumbed through the pages in the folder. “Did you say you’ve only been at it five days?”
She settled into the corner of the couch and curled her legs onto the cushion. “Yes, not counting what I lost in the fire.”
“You have a gift for research and data organization.” He glanced at her. His amber eyes crinkled with the hint of a smile. “Ever consider working in the courier business? My head office is in Chicago. We could use someone like you.”
If Nathan had been sitting behind the desk instead of on it, he would have looked like one of the polished executives Hayley had dealt with in her previous job. As the president of Pack Leader Express, he was an executive…yet with his snug jeans and motorcycle boots, he looked anything but polished.
The contradiction his appearance presented wasn’t the reason Hayley hesitated to respond to his job offer. Nor was the fact that since Nathan was a member of Payback he must have a criminal background—over the past two weeks, her old views about right and wrong had undergone a serious overhaul. She simply hadn’t thought about returning to Chicago. She hadn’t thought about afterward. She would have to eventually, but not yet.
“Kind of getting ahead of yourself there, aren’t you, Nathan?” Cooper asked, as if his thoughts echoed hers. He kicked the office door shut with his heel and held out one of the bottles of beer he carried.
Nathan’s smile faded. “You’re right.” He put the file down, took a beer and twisted off the cap. “If I don’t pay back Tony, I’ll be looking for a job myself.”
“Yeah. Tony’s got a long memory.”
“He’s got a long reach, too. That electronics plant in Hammond closed down.”
“The one where we picked up the plasma screens?”
“Uh-huh. The guy who owned it ignored the warning so Tony sent someone else back and cleaned it out right down to the paper clips.”
Cooper opened his own beer. “That’s too bad.”
“We all knew going in what the deal was. Anyone who quits leaves with no more than they brought in.”
Cooper grunted, tipped the bottle to his mouth, then sat on the arm of the couch beside Hayley. He put his free hand on her back.
Hayley’s spine tingled at the contact. Even though he had focused on business since they had returned from the lake, he hadn’t missed an opportunity to touch her.
Hayley suspected some of Cooper’s attention toward her was for Nathan’s benefit. He was staking his claim in that silent, body-language way that males liked to use, but it wasn’t necessary. Although Nathan Beliveau was a strikingly handsome man, he didn’t affect Hayley the way Cooper did. No man ever had.
She still couldn’t quite believe what had happened by the lake. They had agreed to a kiss. One kiss. If they hadn’t been interrupted, would either of them have stopped? Or would they have ended up making love on the bumper of Cooper’s pickup?
No, it wouldn’t have been love. He had made that clear, yet it didn’t seem to make any difference to the effect he had on Hayley. Despite the time that had passed, her body hadn’t cooled down completely. Whenever Cooper touched her, he stirred the embers.
“So, Nathan, are you going to tell us what we have to do with your debt?” Cooper asked.
Nathan lifted the bottle and took a long swig. “When I loaned you that semi, I heard Tony had asked you to put away Oliver Sproule.”
“That’s right.”
“Since then, you told Tony that Sproule’s connected to a Russian named Stephan Volski.”
“Hayley’s the one who found that out. They’re smuggling heroin.”
“So Tony said. With the Russian mob involved, this is bigger than it looked at first. Tony decided that this would be a good time to stop Volski, too.”
Cooper gave a low whistle. “Tony wants you to bring down Stephan Volski?”
Nathan saluted him with his beer. “You got it.”
The men lapsed into silence. Hayley looked from Nathan to Cooper. “This is good. If we work together, we’re bound to get enough evidence to call in the FBI and the DEA.”
Cooper moved his head in a slow negative. “I don’t like it. Volski’s the source of the heroin Sproule’s importing. The feds are going to be more interested in Volski than Sproule. He’s a bigger fish. If we work this together, they’ll probably end up cutting Sproule a deal and that’s going to screw up my chances of paying back Tony.”
“If you keep going on your own,” Nathan said, “you could wind up driving Volski underground and that would screw things up for me.”
“That explains your visit,” Cooper said.
Nathan dipped his chin. “You said I should let you know if there was anything you could do for me. Now I am. It would be in our best interests to rig this so both Sproule and Volski are caught at the same time.”
“Sproule’s got to go down for the max. Otherwise, that won’t be enough to settle my debt or to satisfy Hayley.” Cooper rubbed his thumb along her shoulderblade. “She’s out to avenge her brother’s murder. A slap on the wrist won’t do it.”
“How close are you to putting Sproule away on your own?”
“We’ll get there.”
“If we team up, we’ll all get there sooner,” Nathan said.
“How?”
“Volski’s getting impatient. Your harassment of Sproule has been cramping his style. He’s got two tons of junk stockpiled and ready to move.”
“Two tons?” Hayley exclaimed. The amount of misery that much heroin could do once it made it to the streets was chilling.
“I heard something big was in the works,” Cooper said. “No one on this end is giving any details.”
“Information is just as tight on the other end, but word’s getting around that Volski’s not a hundred-percent confident of his connection. Sproule could blow the deal if he gets jittery.”
“He’s too greedy to walk away from that much dope.”
“He will if you keep crowding him. You need to tell your men to give him more space.”
“I can give him more space but we’re not going to back off completely.”
“I guess that’ll have to do.” Nathan finished his beer and set the bottle on the desk, then stood and picked up his jacket. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear that Volski’s scheduled a shipment.”
“Likewise,” Cooper said.
Nathan shrugged on the jacket, grabbed his helmet and moved to the office door. With one hand on the knob, he glanced back over his shoulder.
The affability he’d displayed throughout their conversation was gone. So was any resemblance to a shirt-and-tie executive. The ruthlessness that hardened his face wasn’t the kind that was learned in boardrooms, it was the cold calculation of a man who had survived the streets.
“I’ve been waiting ten years to pay off my debt to Tony,” Nathan said. “I would prefer to work with you instead of against you, but if you get in my way, I’ll cut both of you loose. Whatever it takes, I intend to see this through.”
Hayley nibbled on a pretzel as she watched Cooper move across the barroom. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t been bothered by Nathan’s parting remarks. Oddly enough, neither had she—the threat that had underlain Nathan’s words was reminiscent of the way Cooper had sounded when she had met him two weeks ago.
There was a good crowd at the Long Shot tonight, so Cooper’s progress was slow as he paused to talk to people he knew. The regular patrons were
a rough-looking bunch, as tough as the souped-up muscle cars they parked outside, yet the respect they held for Cooper was obvious to Hayley. Although their idea of fun was often loud and bordered on rowdy, Cooper and his staff never let it get out of hand.
Judging by the daily entries she had been adding to Cooper’s books, business at the Long Shot hadn’t suffered from the public stand they had taken against Sproule. If anything, it was picking up. If the trend continued, by the end of the week they would be able to clear enough to pay—legitimately—the extra men Cooper had brought in for security. He had been right; there were plenty of people in Latchford who didn’t like Sproule. Patronizing Cooper’s bar was an easy way to show whose side they were on.
She hooked her heels on a rung of the barstool and reached for another pretzel.
A heavyset man in a brass-studded denim jacket jostled her shoulder as he pressed close to the bar. “What’re you drinking, sugar?”
Hayley leaned sideways to break the contact. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Aw, come on. Pretty thing like you, sitting here all alone, you need a beer.” The man smiled and put his hand on her arm. He was missing a front tooth. “I’m Bill. Where’re you from, sugar? I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“I’m Hayley.” She tilted her head toward the other side of the room. Cooper had his back to them as he spoke with Pete and two members of the local band who were setting up their instruments on the stage. “And to answer your question, Bill,” she added, “I live upstairs with the man who owns this place.”
He pulled back so fast he lost his balance and bumped into the stool next to hers. He grabbed it before it could tip over. “I was just being friendly. I didn’t mean no harm.”
Hayley nodded. “I know. Enjoy your evening.”
He moved off quickly.
Hayley hid her smile. She normally was too busy with her research or straightening out Cooper’s bookkeeping to spend time in the bar, but most people seemed to have heard who she was anyway. It was another consequence of making her alliance with Cooper public. People assumed she was his girlfriend. It was easiest to let them. After all, who would believe that she and Cooper had been living together platonically for five days?
Yet after what had happened this afternoon, Hayley wasn’t sure how long that could continue.
Theresa Martinez clicked her tongue as she set a tray of empty glasses on the bar. She was a compact, energetic woman with a cap of short black hair and dark eyes that missed nothing. It had taken her a few days to warm up to Hayley. Like the rest of the staff, she was fiercely loyal to Cooper. Only when she had assured herself that Hayley was truly on their side had her attitude thawed. “What on earth did you say to that man? He looked sick.”
Hayley rolled a piece of pretzel in her fingers. “He wanted to buy me a drink. I told him I’m staying with Cooper.”
“Ahh, that explains it.”
“The worst of it is, I think I enjoyed seeing his reaction.”
Theresa laughed. “It’s not very liberated to use a man’s reputation for protection, but I have to admit when I started working here I enjoyed siccing Ken on overeager customers.” She turned her gaze toward the slender, dark-haired man behind the bar. Her affection for her husband shone from her face. “He was something to see in the old days. Cooper didn’t believe in guns, but Ken never needed one. When he couldn’t talk his way out of trouble, he could knock out a man twice his size with nothing but his bare hands. If he hadn’t been so good at picking locks, he could have made a fortune doing those Kung Fu movies.”
Like Cooper, the people who worked for him were open about their criminal past. They made no apologies, yet they took pride in the honest business they had helped to build. If Cooper couldn’t repay his debt to Tony, the loss of the Long Shot would affect everyone. “I’m glad that you and your husband stayed on to work with Cooper,” Hayley said.
“After what he did for us, we owe him.”
“He once told me it was hard work going straight. It must have taken a lot of courage for you to take the chance.”
“It turned our lives around. Though at first, Ken and I didn’t believe we could be happy being upstanding citizens.” Theresa slid her a sideways glance and lifted one sleek black eyebrow. “There’s nothing like that rush of adrenaline after a job to spice up your sex life.”
Hayley remembered how restless she had felt when Cooper had taken her home after they had stolen the televisions. What would it have been like to feel that excitement on a regular basis? On the other hand, the anxiety during the job hadn’t been something she would want to repeat.
“Too bad Cooper’s such a stickler for keeping things legal,” Theresa continued. “Maybe some spice is what you two need. I’ve never known him to break so many glasses.”
No, Theresa didn’t miss anything, Hayley thought, finishing her pretzel. Not everyone believed she and Cooper were sleeping together. His friends couldn’t have helped noticing the tension between them. “Do you really miss the old days?” she asked.
“Truthfully, no. I don’t miss the bad parts. My hair would have turned gray by now if we were still boosting trucks.” She called to get Ken’s attention and rattled off her order, then turned back to Hayley. “Besides, I’m so claustrophobic, I never would have been able to survive prison.”
“It’s lucky you weren’t caught.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Theresa said.
Ken filled her tray, arranging the glasses of whiskey and tequila around the beer bottles so they would be less likely to tip. Unlike his wife, he usually didn’t say much, but this time he joined the conversation. “Theresa’s right. We would have all done time if Cooper hadn’t made his deal.”
“I’m confused,” Hayley said. “Cooper told me he made a deal to get a lighter sentence for himself but it didn’t work out that way.”
“That’s because the arresting officer changed the deal once he had Cooper’s confession,” Ken said, holding her gaze. “He wanted him to give up the rest of us. Cooper refused. That’s the reason he served three years.”
The arresting officer. Adam. So far Ken had avoided saying his name. While he and Theresa had warmed up to Hayley, they made it clear they held little regard for her brother.
So it hadn’t been the judge or the D.A. who had reneged on the deal as Hayley had assumed. Adam must have tried to pressure Cooper into testifying against his accomplices. That would be normal police procedure, part of being a good cop, yet he would have known Cooper’s father had been dying. How could the brother she idolized have broken his word and done something so cold? More than ever, Hayley could understand the resentment Cooper harbored for Adam.
She could also understand the depth of Cooper’s friends’ loyalty. He had not only given them honest work, he had kept them from going to prison.
Hayley mulled that over for a while. Would society really have been better off if Pete, Ken and Theresa had been punished for their crimes? They had rehabilitated themselves. They were making up for the mistakes they had made and were leading worthwhile lives now, weren’t they?
On the other hand, what about the others who hadn’t gone straight? Would a prison sentence have forced them to change, or would they have chosen to resume their old lives anyway as so many ex-cons did?
She rubbed her forehead. These were the kinds of issues that philosophers could debate for years. She couldn’t hope to sort them out herself.
The band started up with a twanging riff of an electric guitar, then launched into a rendition of the George Thorogood classic, “Bad to the Bone.” The crowd hooted their approval, making any further conversation difficult. Ken moved to serve a customer on the other side of the bar as Theresa hefted her tray and worked her way across the floor, her steps in time with the beat.
Hayley felt a hand settle on her back. She didn’t pull away—she knew without looking around it was Cooper.
He leaned down to speak close to her ear. “Got a minu
te? I need to talk to you.”
Despite the noise from the band, Cooper’s deep voice sent a tremor over her skin. She struggled to concentrate. “What about?”
He straightened up, took her hand and tugged her from the stool. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
He led her toward the back of the barroom. He waited until they had reached the hallway and the door had swung shut behind them, muffling the music, before he spoke again. “It’s about your house.”
Her steps faltered. For a moment she had assumed he had wanted to discuss something more personal. “The fire?”
“I have some news.”
They continued down the hall. Cooper paused to nod to the stocky man at the far end who was leaning against the back entrance. “Pete’s in the main room, Hank,” he called. “Go talk to him if something comes up. I’ve got some business to see to.”
With his drooping outlaw mustache and perpetual scowl, Hank appeared more like someone to keep out of a place rather than to guard it, but Hayley nevertheless felt reassured to have him there. The man gave them a thumbs-up, the ends of his mustache lifting. “Sure thing, Coop.”
Cooper opened the door to the staircase and waited for Hayley to step through. “I heard the guy who torched your place was a pro from St. Louis.”
The official investigation into the explosion and fire that had destroyed her family home had gone nowhere. Everyone agreed that it had been arson—besides the tool marks on the gas line, there had been a disposable lighter found in the backyard near the fence—but the police hadn’t come up with any suspects. “A pro?” Hayley asked. “As in a professional arsonist?”
“He goes by the name of Red, does insurance fraud mostly.” Still holding her hand, Cooper started up the stairs. “If someone wants to get rid of a business that isn’t paying off, he takes care of it for them. He’s got a reputation for clean work. Using a pipe wrench on the gas line was sloppy. It must have been a rush job.”
The Angel and the Outlaw Page 15
