Jennifer Apodaca - Samantha Shaw 04 - Batteries Required

by Jennifer Apodaca

  Angel answered, “Some asshole firebombed my car.”

  “Your Trans Am?” Blaine’s expression tightened into one of horror. “When? Where?”

  “At Smash Coffee.” She took a breath to launch into the whole story when her cell phone rang.

  While Angel answered her cell phone, I filled in the details for Blaine, until we both heard Angel say, “Hugh, that bastard!”

  Blaine and I both turned to look at her. She shoved her cell phone into her purse and said, “Come on, Sam. We have to go to my house.”

  I didn’t move. “What’s going on, Angel? Who was that on the phone?”

  She shifted back and forth, her energy practically a living thing. “That was Mitch. He was supposed to call me yesterday to set up a dinner to talk about the sex-toy kit. He got busy and never called.”

  I’d forgotten all about that. Understandable, with Zack-the-gun-wielding-jewel-thief after us. Then Zoë stealing the necklace. Then the car. “Wait—did you get any information from Mitch? Caller ID? Where is he?” My heart pounded and I was determined not to screw it up this time. I didn’t see how Mitch could be involved, but he had given Angel that sex-toy kit.

  “Caller ID was blocked. And Mitch hung up after he told me that he went by my house to leave some flowers as an apology for not calling me back for dinner. But before he got out of his car, he said he saw a man run out of my gate and jump into an old Mercedes and race off. The man he described sounded just like Hugh. Mitch said that we’d talk about the sex-toy kit later this week, but that he didn’t want to get between me and a boyfriend and hung up.”

  It didn’t make sense. “But what would Hugh be doing at your house? Isn’t he at work?”

  Angel brushed her long red hair off her face. “Hugh drives around doing security checks in his security guard job, so he could slip in a drive by my house. He saw me last night watching his house. Knowing Hugh, he’s probably getting even in his warped mind. For all I know, he turned on the gas and ran out.” She took a breath. “I just want to check.”

  I studied Angel. I knew something had been the matter with her at Daystar the Friday before. Now I knew she was worried about her mom, but it was also something to do with Hugh. “Angel, that fight you had with Hugh on Friday, what happened?”

  Her leather pants squeaked as she shifted. “It was like I told you, he was screaming at me for causing him to be denied the private patrol license. That everything was my fault. Last night, Brandi’s car wasn’t at his house. I think she’s left him and he blames me.”

  I frowned. I wanted Angel to let go of Hugh, but I had to admit that he had started it this time with blaming her for his being denied his license. And if he had been at her house, we’d better stop by and find out why. “OK, your house is on our way to Hugh’s anyway.” I turned to Blaine.

  He waved his hand. “Go. Just be careful.”

  “Thanks, Blaine. You’re the best.” Angel and I hurried to my T-bird.

  Once I had maneuvered the car out to the street, I took a breath. God, I was so mad. And scared. Angel and I were on our own. Gabe was . . . hell, I didn’t know. And Vance wouldn’t help us. I tried to sort things out as I drove. “Do you think Zack threw the firebomb into your car?”

  Angel settled her purse on the floor and answered, “He’s the one who wants the necklace and thinks we have it. He used a gun last night, so I guess he’d throw a firebomb into my car.”

  We were making good time. I turned left from Main Street onto Graham, which would turn into Lake Street a little farther down the road. “None of this is making sense.” I slowed a bit to pass the Elsinore Middle School. I thought out loud. “Here’s what we know: Someone stole a diamond necklace from a woman at Daystar Casino. We found the necklace in the sex-toy kit. Zack Quinn is the suspect in the theft, and he has broken into your house twice to get that necklace.”

  “But Mitch is the one who gave me the sex-toy kit.”

  I turned right off Lake Street, then right again onto Angel’s street. “But he doesn’t seem to know about the necklace.”

  “Right,” Angel agreed.

  I pulled into Angel’s driveway, then turned to look at her. “That’s another reason you wanted to come to your house on the way to Hugh’s. If Mitch came by here, maybe he was really looking for the sex-toy kit and the necklace.”

  Angel nodded. “At first, I was just mad about Hugh’s being at my house. But then I wondered why Mitch came by my house. I mean, it’s easy enough to find my address in the phone book. So he could have meant to leave flowers but got spooked seeing Hugh . . .” She shrugged.

  I filled in the rest. “Or he could have been here to break in himself and got spooked by Hugh.” Dumbass Hugh. That’d be just like him to try to get into Angel’s house to cause damage, and end up actually saving Angel from something worse.

  I turned off the car engine. “OK, let’s go see if Hugh did anything to the house, or if we can spot anything else odd.” Maybe, just maybe, we could catch a break and clean up this mess. I touched Angel’s arm. “But we have to be careful. We don’t know where Zack is.” I reached past Angel into my purse and pulled out my defense spray.

  Angel reached down to her purse and pulled out her gun.

  I met her gaze. “Show-off.”

  We got out of the car and went to the atrium gate. Everything looked normal in the atrium and the front door appeared tightly closed. Angel opened the gate and went toward the front door.

  Just to hear myself talk, I said, “It’s possible that Vance already went over to Hugh’s and caught Zoë. Maybe he has the necklace and knows we were telling the truth.”

  “I’m not relying on Vance.” She held her gun in one hand and used the other hand to test the door. “Locked.” She used her key to open it. “I’m not going to let Hugh, Zack, or anyone else destroy my life.”

  “Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.” I thought of Gabe’s assistant and her phone games. I was mad, but part of me was beginning to think Dee was pulling a fast one on him. I couldn’t figure out how, though. And Dee made me mad, too. But I was furious that someone was doing this to Angel.

  She turned the dead bolt and pulled her key out of the lock, then she looked at me. “Ready?”

  My mouth went dry at the prospect of going back into the house where I had looked down the barrel of a gun. “As I’ll ever be.” I hoped that sounded brave. I suspected it sounded fake.

  The living room looked the same as we had left it. The wood floor was discolored where the Diet Coke had spilled. The house had an abandoned feel to it. It smelled stuffy and slightly sweet, probably from the Diet Coke on the floor. But there was no gas odor, so Hugh hadn’t gotten in and turned on the gas. Something was going right at least. “No sign of Hugh,” I commented. “Let’s hurry. We don’t want to miss Zoë at Hugh’s house.”

  I followed Angel in the door, my boots clicking on the wood floor. The urge to turn and run squeezed my chest, but I ignored it. We walked through the living room to the swinging doors of the kitchen.

  Anxiety tightened my neck. It would be a long time before I forgot the feeling of looking down the barrel of Zack’s gun. My natural cowardice surfaced.

  Angel didn’t seem bothered by the memory of Zack. Holding her gun, she moved through the swinging doors. Then she called back, “Everything looks OK. Stove is off. Door is locked.”

  Angel came back out, passed me, and headed across the living room toward the hallway.

  Shaking off my fear, I caught up to her, following so close I could smell the herbal scent of her shampoo. We went into the hallway and headed left toward her bedroom.

  The phone rang. Terror squeaked in my throat like a mouse. Angel looked back at me, her mouth quirking in a grin. “It’s just my phone. The answering machine will get it.”

  All right, I was done being a chicken. A ringing phone making me squeak was damned embarrassing. “I’m fine, just clearing my throat.” I lifted my chin, and tightened my finger on the nozzl
e of the pepper spray. There was no one in Angel’s house. I forced a weak smile. “Lead on.”

  “Relax, Sam, no one’s here. Hugh’s long gone.” She turned and started toward her bedroom.

  Right. Relax. As I followed close behind her, I tried some of that breathing stuff Angel’s Yoga teacher droned on and on about. In, nice and slow . . .

  Slam.

  I smacked into Angel’s back, jamming my pepper spray into my stomach.

  I heard a hissing noise. Uh-oh.

  Just as I blinked, searing pain hit my eyes. “Shit!” I’d sprayed myself in the eyes. I dropped the pepper spray. “Ouch!” I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears welled up, my nose filled, and the burn . . . I slid to my knees. “Why did you stop?”

  “Sam.” Angel wrapped her hands around my arms, dragging me up.

  “I can’t!” God, it hurt. Burned. It was hideous.

  “Stop it!” Angel yelled at me. “Hurry.” She dragged me off my knees. Automatically, I got my feet under me and followed her. “Here.” I heard water. “Wash your eyes out.”

  I cupped my hands and scooped water onto my eyelids, forcing my eyes to open. God, it hurt. Burned. Hurt like putting in contacts doused in cayenne pepper. Even my throat and mouth burned. Man, to think I had accidentally sprayed Gabe once. Finally, the burn calmed down.

  The phone rang.

  And rang.

  I felt around until I touched something that I thought might be a towel and held it to my eyes. My wits were returning. I knew Angel had led me through her bedroom and into the bathroom. Here I’d been afraid of running into Zack, when I should have been afraid of myself. Slowly, I took the towel away and forced my eyes to open.

  The phone had stopped ringing.

  The bathroom was blurry, but I could see. Sort of. The big wood-framed mirror revealed swollen red-and-black eyes. Red from the pepper spray, black from mascara and eyeliner.

  Not my best look. Hot tears kept up a slow but steady stream down my face.

  Looking down, I could make out the brass curving faucet, the porcelain sink, Angel’s perfumes and lotions, and her hairbrush. My vision cleared little by little though everything had a blurry halo. My eyes continued to sting. “Cripes, Angel.” I looked around the bathroom but didn’t see her. “Angel? Why did you stop like that?”

  Finally, I spotted her just outside the bathroom door in the bedroom. She appeared to be staring at her bed but she blocked my view. “Angel?” I nearly laughed when I said her name—though I could see only her back, she did have a fuzzy halo around her body. Almost like a real angel.

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Her voice was flat and strained.

  I used the hand towel to wipe away more tears and said, “What are you talking about?”

  “The good news is that I found Zack.”

  “Huh?” Having just proved that I was more of a danger to myself than the Zack I feared so much, I wasn’t in the mood for stupid jokes. I took a step, using one hand to push Angel so I could stand beside her.

  Angel went on in the same flat voice, “Bad news is that he’s dead.”

  I forced my stinging eyes to focus on the bed.

  Omigod! There was a dead man on Angel’s bed! Dead man. He had to be dead, since there was a hideous black hole in his forehead.

  The phone on the nightstand rang.

  13

  The ringing phone sounded sinister.

  Probably because of the dead man on Angel’s bed. Zack had been shot through the head, but there was no blood. He must have been killed somewhere else. Terror seized my lungs and I had a hard time getting a breath.

  The phone rang again. Both Angel and I turned to look at it. The caller ID screen said, “Blocked.”

  I was pretty sure it wasn’t a sales call. Angel stood closest to the phone on the nightstand. On the third ring, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Answer it.”

  She reached over and snatched up the receiver. She held it between us so that I could lean in and listen. “Hello?”

  “I see you’ve found Zack,” a male voice said.

  He could see us? How? New terror burned in my chest. “Who is this?” I demanded into the receiver. Chills ran down my back.

  “Samantha Shaw. You two surprise me. Most women are easily romanced into submission.”

  His voice throbbed with anger. A voice I had heard before. I struggled to place it, but Angel had the answer.

  She demanded into the phone, “Mitch, what the hell are you doing?”

  Mitch? Mitch St. Claire from the casino? That’s where I had heard the voice. But what was going on? The phone call from Mitch to Angel about Hugh—it had been a ruse to get Angel to come back to her house. An acidlike taste of fear mixed in with the aftertaste of pepper spray.

  Mitch said, “I’m cleaning up, Angel. Zack screwed up. I never tolerate screwups. He put that necklace in the wrong sample sex-toy kit. I gave him a chance to fix it and he failed.” He sighed. “Zack didn’t grasp the importance of the details. It’s not just about fucking the mark. Any man with a functioning dick can do that. It’s the finesse!”

  Stunned horror spun around in my brain. Mark? Who was Mark? What did Mitch mean? My brain just wouldn’t process anything.

  Angel’s entire body shook. “So you killed him? You murdered Zack and put him on my bed!”

  We heard Mitch suck in a breath. “If you don’t want to end up like Zack, get that necklace. I have a client waiting. And this isn’t the kind of client that waits patiently.”

  Angel ripped the phone from between us and yelled into it, “We don’t have the—” She slammed the phone down onto the nightstand. “He hung up.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I stared at Zack. There was a big bandage on his right arm and a partly healed cut on his left index finger. Those had to be from his two break-ins to Angel’s house. But it was the hole in his forehead that made me nauseated and panicked. Burnt bloody edges of skin caved in around that black hole. “Oh God.” Sweat pinpricked under my arms and down my back. The room started tilting at a sickening angle. “We have to get out of here. He murdered Zack and he’s watching us!” I didn’t want a hole in my head.

  “Mitch. That bastard. It was him all along.”

  I turned my head, still seeing a bit of fuzz around the edges of my vision. Was that from the pepper spray or from shock? “He lied about Hugh to get us here. To see Zack dead.” My thoughts spun in a kaleidoscopic blur. I had thought it was Zack who was after the necklace, but obviously Mitch was behind the whole mess. I looked around the room. “Is he here?” Was he hiding in the closet? Fear boiled the sick feeling in my stomach. How did he know Angel and I were in her house?

  Angel grabbed my hand. “Let’s get out of here, Sam.”

  No need to tell me twice. My fight-or-flight reaction told me to run like hell. We ran out of the bedroom, through the hall, and into the living room, where my boot heels slid on the wood floor. Angel let go of me. I got my balance and the two of us raced out the front door.

  We didn’t bother to close it.

  At the car, Angel said, “Give me your keys.”

  I reached into my purse and tossed my keys over the hood. I dropped into the red vinyl seat on the passenger side of my T-bird, then grabbed Angel’s purse from her so she could drive. She started the car, put it in reverse, and screeched the tires backing out of the driveway.

  Hanging on to the dashboard, I thought, Boy, Blaine would be pissed if he saw this. When Angel straightened the car out, I struggled to get my seat belt on. My hands shook so much, I couldn’t get the metal part into the lock. “What do we do? There’s a dead man in your house! We’re going to get blamed for this.”

  Angel hit the gas again. “How did Mitch know we were there? Or did he start calling my house every few minutes after calling me with that story about Hugh?” She expertly wove the car out onto Lake Street. The day was cool and the lake shimmered like smooth gray glass, reflecting the Ortega Mountains that rose over it from the oth
er side.

  I didn’t have an answer. All I could think about was dead Zack with a really ugly hole in his forehead. But wait . . . what if he wasn’t dead? I looked at Angel. “What if he wasn’t dead? We have to go back!” My mind hopped, skipped, and jumped.

  “He was dead. No pulse.”

  “You touched him?”

  She stared at the road. “Yes, I touched him. If he wasn’t dead, I would have killed him.”

  Cripes. My head throbbed while my stomach did a queasy roll every few seconds. “I’m calling Gabe. I’ll use your cell phone so Dee won’t know it’s me.” I opened Angel’s purse, pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number.

  Dee answered, “Pulizzi Investigations.”

  I was ready for a fight. “If you hang up, I will drive out to Hemet and kick your ass. Put Gabe on.”

  “We are busy.”

  She was so dead. “Dee, listen to me very carefully. If I drive out there, after I kick your ass, I am going to tell Gabe that you are not letting me talk to him when I have an emergency. I know he told you to put my calls through.”

  “Fine.” Then nothing. Just silence for an endless minute.

  Gabe came on the line. “Babe? Why are you calling on Dee’s cell phone?”

  “What?” I had no idea what he was talking about. I had dialed his cell phone number. “Never mind. Angel and I found Zack Quinn dead on Angel’s bed. He had a bullet hole through his forehead.” Hot tears stung my eyes. Blinking, I fought to control myself.

  “Where are you?”

  “In my car. We can’t drive Angel’s car because it was firebombed.” I felt the edge of hysteria bubbling in my brain. I took a breath and tried to order my thoughts.

  “Give me the short version, Sam. We’re getting in my truck now to come home.”

  His voice was flat and controlled. I had to be in control, too, if I wanted to keep Angel and myself alive. In the background, I heard doors slamming, then the truck engine turning over. “OK, this morning, Zoë Cash stopped by the house. She’s trying to get R. V. Logan’s real name and address out of me. I refused. Apparently, she stole the sex-toy kit and left. Vance showed up right after her, and he was furious when the necklace was gone.”