Hallowed Ground (Julie Collins Series #2)

by Lori G. Armstrong

  “Kev, you’re entitled.”

  “It’s one entitlement that sucks.”

  “No doubt.” My gaze followed his to the bright green leaves shimmering in the sun, shifting on the morning breeze. “Want me to finish the Greater Dakota employment stuff?”

  “Yeah. It’s on your desk.” He turned and looked at me. “I know you’ve got the Black Dog case, but I promised Bill in Human Resources I’d get those files to him.”

  “When?”

  “Last Friday.”

  If Kevin had missed a major client deadline, he was more messed up than I’d imagined.

  “How many?”

  “Nine.”

  Figuring an hour for each check, I’d be here … until they were finished. Chloe’s case would go on the back burner since Greater Dakota was our biggest contract.

  “No problem. I’ll call Bill and have their courier pick them up before 5:00.”

  “Thanks. You’ve been a great partner.”

  Good thing the bricks dug into my back, holding me up. Made me a little queasy to realize the business was Kevin’s tether to a normal life, not me.

  Kevin lightly chucked me under the chin. “I’m nominating you for ‘Employee of the Month.’”

  “Too late, pal. I nominated myself, voted for myself, and spent the bonus check on myself.”

  His cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and swore, “Damn intrusive things. I’ll check in tomorrow.” As if in afterthought, he said, “Consider wearing your gun in case those ‘insurance agents’ come back.”

  I smiled. “Never been one to fall for a hard sell.”

  “Watch your back, tough girl, since I’m not here to watch it for you.” Guilt exposed frown lines by his mouth I hadn’t noticed before. “Better yet, call Jimmer.”

  As I watched him drive away with a hollow feeling, my cell phone rang. My home number glowed on the blue screen. Kell. Big surprise.

  Damn intrusive things, indeed.

  CHAPTER 11

  I WORKED THROUGH LUNCH AND FINISHED THE REPORTS by 3:00, even when Kell had called and interrupted me a hundred times.

  Okay, more like six times. I knew he hurt, I knew he was bored, but how was that my problem? Like I had time to go home, put on a big red nose and a squirting carnation to keep him entertained.

  Things were strained between us after one day.

  If I was honest with myself, the more time we spent together with our clothes on, the more I realized we had absolutely nothing in common.

  I’d left the answering service on to keep distractions to a minimum. Now that I had a minute, I propped my feet on my desk and indulged in a leisurely smoke. For the first time my mind wandered to the morning’s bizarre events in the parking lot.

  God. Had I really been so stupid as to mouth off to mafia bodyguards? What if they were still waiting for me out there? And there were two of them and one of me. Bad odds.

  I called Jimmer, the great odds equalizer.

  He answered on the second ring. “Julie! Been thinking about kicking your ass. Surprised you remembered my phone number, it’s been so long.”

  Oh, the curse of caller ID. “Well, I’ve been busy.”

  “Ain’t we all. So. What’s up?”

  “Can’t I just call up an old friend to chat?”

  His snort of disbelief nearly shattered my eardrum. “Not since you’ve been hanging out with that musician pussy.”

  Jimmer didn’t like Kell any more than my father would have. If I defended Kell, Jimmer would be more determined to maim him, so I changed the subject.

  “Must be your lucky day. How would you like to see me in person?”

  “Sure. When?”

  “How about now?”

  “Now? What’s the rush? Did Lilly finally kick the bucket or something?”

  Jimmer had less tact than I did. “Nope. Still hanging on.”

  “Pity.”

  I slurped my Diet Pepsi, and peeked out the window to the street below. No black-suited guys hovering by the lamppost. “So, you coming over to the office or what?”

  He sensed something wasn’t right. “What’s the deal, Jules?”

  “I need you to walk me to my car.”

  “Why? You got unpaid parking tickets and a meter maid gunning for ya?”

  I held back a laugh. “No.”

  He paused. “Then where is your car?”

  “Right below in the office parking lot.”

  “This some kind of dumb ass joke?”

  “I wish. See, I had a little trouble this morning, and with Kevin out of commission, he suggested I call you.”

  “Who’d you piss off now, little missy?”

  His pet name brought a quick smile. “Big Joe Carlucci’s bodyguards.”

  The silence on the line lasted about two seconds.

  “Fuck. Don’t move. I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.

  I retrieved my gun from the filing cabinet and shoved it in my purse. Screw Kell. No matter what he claimed, words were not more effective than a Browning High Power. I locked up the office and waited in the hallway for Jimmer.

  Permanent solution, hairspray, and shampoo blended with the sharp scent of Pine Sol and the smell of wet wool carpet. Our building janitor, Ricky, must’ve been busy last night. Though it looked like he’d skipped scrubbing the windows again.

  Jimmer bounded up the stairs two at a time. Even wearing camo he didn’t fade into the background. At 6’6”, and all 300 odd pounds of it solid muscle, Jimmer never blended. From his buzz cut to his combat boots he embodied military.

  I had my suspicions he was still involved with some “black ops” section of the government. Not only did he own a pawnshop specializing in military type weapons, he’d disappear for weeks at a time. And he’d never sent me a postcard from his travels.

  It didn’t surprise me he knew of the Carluccis, since he knew everyone who was anyone. Most people were afraid of him, with good reason. As he bore down on me, I was glad he was on my side.

  “Hey,” I said. In his shadow I felt like a munchkin from The Wizard of Oz.

  And he wasn’t even winded from running up two flights of stairs. Big hands rested on his hips. “You wanna tell me why the fuck you’re messing with those Italian assholes?”

  Jimmer pronounced Italian, Eyetalian.

  “Not intentionally, believe me,” I said.

  He waited for me to explain, his “talk-or-I’ll-rip-you-to-shreds” glare burned into me until I blurted, “Tony Martinez hired me to find Harvey’s sister’s kid. Only no one knew Harvey’s sister, Rondelle, had been working for the Carluccis up in Deadwood. It’s gotten more complicated.”

  “Complications Martinez didn’t know about?”

  “Yeah, he wasn’t really happy when he found out.”

  “I’ll bet. Christ, you really can pick ’em, can’t you, little missy?”

  I shrugged.

  “Does Martinez know someone from the Carlucci family paid you a visit this morning?”

  “No.”

  “He will.” His hard gaze went to my purse and he studied it like he had X-ray vision. “Your Browning in there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Loaded?”

  I nodded.

  “Stun gun?”

  “Ah, no.”

  He sighed his disappointment.

  “Before you ask, couldn’t fit my bow in here either.”

  “Smart-ass. What about your knife?”

  “I don’t have a knife.”

  His cool gray eyes met mine. One hand reached behind his back, then he handed me a knife sheathed in a camouflage nylon case. “Now you do.”

  Holy crap. The thing had to be at least ten inches long. And if Jimmer freely handed it over, I knew it wasn’t the only blade he had.

  “Thanks.” I unzipped my purse and dropped it next to the gun since it wouldn’t fit in my jacket pocket. “Do you really think I’ll need it?”

  “You always need it.”

  That
was Jimmer; he figured everyone should be armed to the teeth at all times. It was endearing, in a psychotic kind of way.

  “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Want me to hold your hand?” he asked snidely.

  “No, but you could give me a piggyback ride,” I retorted just as snidely.

  “Don’t push it.” Luckily he only took the steps one at a time on the way downstairs, giving my smoker’s lungs a break.

  Before we opened the steel door leading to the parking lot, Jimmer stopped and said, “I made a quick sweep of the area.”

  “You did?”

  “Course, that don’t mean nothin’. They could be waiting on a side street. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

  Comforting.

  He tossed me a set of keys. “Just to be safe, I want you to drive this.”

  Be still my heart. Were these the keys to his beloved Hummer? Not a “pussified” one like GM was making, no, his was the real deal, a military issue. I wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t fully armed.

  “And no,” he said, as if reading my mind, “you ain’t getting your girlie hands on my Hummer.” He pointed to a black Toyota Highlander. “That’s your ride.”

  I couldn’t complain. It was much nicer than my Sentra. Still, it wasn’t Jimmer’s usual style. “Where’d you get that?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Didja forget I own a damn pawn shop?”

  “Someone pawned their car?”

  “Car is nothin’. Some people would sell their kid for a fix.”

  Not touching that one. I really didn’t want to know about any more desperate people. I had enough in my life already. “You don’t mind driving my car?”

  Jimmer grinned. “You got insurance, right? In case I gotta take evasive maneuvers in that rice burner?”

  My gaze narrowed. I started to ask specifics on what qualified as “evasive maneuvers” but my cell phone rang.

  Taking it out of my jacket pocket, I flipped it open. My home phone number lit up the screen. Kell again. Great. I debated on ignoring it.

  Guilt gnawed at me and I answered cheerily, “Hey Kell, what’s up? I’m just on my way home.”

  “Good to hear, Ms. Collins. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Not Kell. The blood drained from my face. My vision distorted even as I established the voice; Reggie, the big Carlucci bodyguard from this morning.

  His laugh left grease stains on my ear. “Surprised? I told you we’d be in touch. We’ve been having the most enlightening conversation with your friend. Wanna listen in?”

  In the background I heard Kell whimpering, then a sharp crack of flesh hitting flesh. Followed by a scream.

  The knots in my stomach untied and lashed my throat.

  I curled my hand into a fist until the car keys bit into my skin. “You bastard. He has nothing to do with this. Leave him alone.”

  Jimmer was by my side; his big hand steadied mine after I’d bobbled the phone. He hunkered down, holding the receiver out, pressing his head to mine so he could hear every awful word.

  “We just want to talk to you.”

  “Fine. Let him go and I’ll meet you anywhere you want.”

  “Nope. We tried that this morning, remember? Here’s the deal: Tommy won’t rearrange his pretty face if you get here within the next, oh, twenty minutes. We’ll talk then.”

  I swallowed. My voice still came out choked. “If I’m late?”

  A muffled whump; another cry of pain echoed in my ear. “It’d be in your best interest to hurry.”

  Click.

  Fury surged in me. Not only were those bastards in my house, invading my sacred space, they’d decided to take out their frustration on a man who hadn’t done anything wrong except hook up with me.

  I spun toward the Highlander; an enormous palm in front of my face stopped the motion.

  I glared at Jimmer. “Didn’t you hear them? Get out of my way. If I leave right now it’ll still take me over twenty fucking minutes to get there.”

  “Julie, listen to me.”

  He didn’t loosen his grip, but his voice had turned cold and precise. He snatched the keys from me and pocketed them.

  “Change of plans. You drive your car. I’ll follow you.”

  I blinked. “You’re coming along?”

  “Hell, yeah, like I’d leave you to deal with these assholes with one gun and one little knife.”

  “You don’t have to get involved in this, Jimmer.”

  “Too late for that now.” He patted his belt and removed a black box. “Besides, those fuckers need to find out we don’t do things that way here.”

  His confidence bolstered mine. “Damn straight. I’ll cut their balls off with my knife and make them wear ’em as earrings.”

  “That’s my girl. Be your usual pissy self. Then they won’t suspect you aren’t alone.”

  I watched as he pounded a number on the tiny buttons on his cell phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling for backup.”

  I didn’t ask who. I just got in my car and drove.

  As I sped home, I cursed. I muttered. I smoked like a prescribed burn.

  If Kell came out all right, I swore I’d become attentive, helpful, sympathetic. I’d fluff his pillows, cook tofu stir-fry, watch endless hours of FUSE and listen to his dreams of grandeur about when his rock band finally scored a record deal.

  Why are you trying to be who he wants you to be and not who you are?

  Bad time to have an identity crisis.

  I checked the digital clock as I stubbed out yet another cigarette. Five minutes.

  Jimmer had called me with last minute instructions. Keep my gun tucked in the small of my back, keep them talking and keep my head down. Like I couldn’t have figured out the last one on my own.

  What I couldn’t figure out was why Carlucci’s goons were so anxious to talk to me.

  There was one possibility I hadn’t considered. What if Donovan knew who’d been causing the sabotage at the Bear Butte building site? If one of Big Joe’s goons had seen me talking to Donovan, they might jump to the worst conclusion.

  But I could jump to conclusions too. If they had seen me with Donovan, that meant they were responsible for shooting him.

  As I approached my house, I noticed the Towncar wasn’t parked in the driveway. Strange. Reggie and Tommy didn’t seem the type to hoof it.

  I slammed the car door and ran up the porch steps. My heart raced, blood rushed in my ears.

  I pushed the front door open.

  The familiar scent of my home, the lingering remnants of cigarette smoke, coffee, and vanilla candles didn’t offer me the comfort it usually did.

  Reggie was perched on the arm of my sofa, his gun dangling casually by his side as if he didn’t find me a threat.

  Kell wasn’t a threat. They’d tied him to a kitchen chair, removed his sling and joined his hands together behind his back. With his sprained arm, he had to be in agony.

  My gaze traveled down his body to his injured leg, also fastened to the chair with a length of twine. His swollen ankle had turned a hideous shade of purple, like he’d been kicked a time or two. His head hung to his chest.

  Hot rage filled me. They’d fucking pay for this.

  Reggie snapped out his wrist and frowned at his Rolex. “Twenty-four minutes. You’re late, Ms. Collins.”

  His flat reptilian eyes locked to mine. “Tommy?”

  Tommy grabbed Kell’s hands and lifted them up behind his back until cartilage popped and Kell screamed.

  My guts twisted like a dishrag. “I’m here now so you can untie him.”

  “Nah. Don’t think I will. He’s my insurance policy that you’ll cooperate. But first,” he angled his chin toward my purse, “toss it over. I’m interested to see what you’re carrying.”

  In one quick move I whipped my purse at his chest hard enough the weight of it caught him off guard.

  The big gun came up. Pointed at my head. “My patience is we
aring thin, Ms. Collins.”

  “Yeah? So is mine. What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “In due time. Now the jacket. Slowly.”

  Sweat trickled down my spine and pooled in the small of my back. I peeled off my rayon suit jacket with exaggerated slowness. For once it wasn’t born out of sarcasm; I was afraid if I moved too fast the gun would slip out of my waistband and I’d be screwed.

  Reggie passed my jacket to Tommy as he dumped the contents of my purse. Knife, wallet, lighter, lipstick, pens, perfume, and spare change clattered to the coffee table. His eyes glinted, as if the contents had somehow disappointed him.

  Tommy held out my jacket, reaching into the left pocket, coming up with a used tissue. He shoved his hand into the right pocket. Out came my cell phone, cigarettes, and another lighter.

  “See?” he sneered. “Told you she wasn’t carrying this morning.”

  Reggie asked, “Where is your gun?”

  I didn’t move. I didn’t blink and I sure as hell didn’t answer.

  “At her office.” The garbled response came from Kell. “I asked her to keep it there.”

  Kell finally looked at me. No mutinous expression distorted his face, nor did hatred darken his eyes. I almost wanted him to lash out at me because I could deal with bursts of temper. The sad, broken man staring back at me made me want to curl into a ball and hide my face in shame.

  “Yeah? How come?”

  Softly, Kell said, “Because I hate guns and the violence surrounding them.”

  Tommy and Reggie howled with laughter.

  “That right?” Reggie said to me, amused.

  I nodded, wishing he would disappear into the shag carpet like an orange juice stain.

  “Let’s get started.” He gestured to the Lazy Boy recliner across from the entertainment center. “Have a seat.”

  “I’d rather stand.” It burned my ass this dirtball was acting like the host in my house.

  “Suit yourself.” Reggie adjusted his slouch. “Saturday night you had a meeting with Rondelle Eagle Tail. Why?”

  As my fear-coated mind tried to formulate a plausible reason, Tommy must’ve thought I was stalling, because he kicked Kell.

  Again, Kell yelled out in pain.

  Automatically I started toward him.

  Reggie’s gun sited at my heart stopped me.