Then there was the woman in her garage. The one yelling, Fuck her up, fuck her up. The voice had been muffled by the ski mask over her head, and Zyah had been occupied trying to fight off two men, but thinking back, the highpitched, eagerly gleeful sound could have been Francine when she was extremely drunk. Did Francine really hate her enough to have men kidnap her? Possibly kill her?
Zyah spun around, practically throwing herself into Player’s arms, willing him not to ask her any questions.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Alena said.
“No, no, I’m all right. I just wish these people would be caught,” Zyah said. “I don’t understand why they went back to my grandmother’s home. She never was one for jewelry. She loved to dance. Belly dance. It’s part of the culture—in our family, I mean—so we have a few bracelets and anklets, but they aren’t worth anything monetarily.”
Player kept his arm around her, holding her in close to his body as they made their way to Anat’s table, where Blythe and Lana talked animatedly with her. Zyah looked at Anat’s hands. She never wore bracelets or bangles. She didn’t wear earrings either. She always said Horus preferred her not to, so she didn’t. Now that Zyah thought about it, Horus actually had jewelry and Anat didn’t. Horus gave her beautiful things he created with his two hands, and she treasured them, but he didn’t give her jewels. So what did the thieves think Anat had?
She had a horrible suspicion she knew. What had Jonas asked Anat? At lunch had she ever talked about anything to her Red Hat Society friends? She always claimed she had a great treasure. Zyah was her great treasure. Anat really regarded her that way. It wasn’t diamonds or gold. Zyah was her treasure.
Player waited for her to slip into a chair close to Anat, and then he sat beside her. His presence comforted her. More and more, she feared she was right about Francine. Francine was the traitor, the local who had given the thieves information on the elderly, what they had inside their homes and how to get in. Francine would have heard the gossip about Anat’s treasure, and she would have passed that information on to the thieves, betraying Anat. Betraying Zyah. She glanced once at Terrie Frankle. She and Francine had some kind of connection. She traveled from place to place. She was in and out of people’s homes. When Zyah had changed the locks on the doors the first time, she could have easily gotten a key to the dead bolt.
Don’t keep looking at her, baby. Talk to your grandmother and have a good time. We’ll deal with all this later.
Player. The voice of reason. She didn’t know whether to cry her eyes out over Francine’s betrayal, knowing how it was going to hurt Lizz, or stand up and punch Terrie Frankle right in the mouth for deliberately hurting her grandmother. Instead, she forced a smile onto her face and joined the conversation swirling around her.
SEVENTEEN
Player stood in the shadows, watching Zyah and Alena moving through the aisles between tables. The restaurant was overflowing as usual. Crow 287 never lacked for business. For him, in that moment, Zyah was the epitome of courage. She moved with the grace of a dancer, flowing across the floor, stealing his breath. She was sheer magic to him, and he knew, if they spent a lifetime together, she always would be.
Zyah’s thick hair hung in a braid down her back. She wore little makeup, enhancing only her eyes and long lashes and that lush mouth of hers. Dressed in her favorite pair of vintage jeans and a silk blouse the color of dark forest green, she wore boots that only completed her look of femininity. He wanted to scoop her up and rush her out of there, instead of watching Alena show her around as if convincing her she really should work there.
He could hear everything said through the tiny earpieces built by Transporter and Mechanic. The two men made continuous improvements to the gear used on their hunt and takedown of pedophile rings. The earpieces would allow all of Torpedo Ink as well as Jonas to hear what was being said.
“I can’t believe that Delia Swanson is going to work in a grocery store instead of a restaurant, where she’s worked her entire life,” Alena grumbled, glaring at Zyah.
Zyah flashed a triumphant grin. “It’s not my fault she was sick of waitressing. Cooking. Running the entire operation. Or that Inez is that persuasive.”
“Your store has two new employees in one day, and I’m still looking. I think you owe it to me to take the job.”
“Alena.” Player all but growled her name. “Zyah doesn’t need a second job. She’s on her feet all day as it is.”
The two women made the circuit of the room right in front of the windows, Alena pointing various things out as they made their way toward the back room, where larger parties were often seated.
“I think I can decide for myself whether or not I need a second job,” Zyah said.
Player fought down the flash of amusement and the wild reaction of his cock at the snippy belligerence in her voice. He also knew the shit-storm she had just ignited with his brethren, and it made him smile in spite of the gravity of the situation. His woman had no idea what that little outburst was going to set off.
Master was the first to weigh in with his opinion. “Are you kidding me? Are you taking that shit, Player? Your woman is out of control.”
“What does he mean by that?” Zyah asked.
“Ignore them,” Alena said. “That’s what Lana and I do. Come on, honey. We need to parade around in front of the windows again before we go into the kitchen. Look really interested in how the tables are set up.”
“A woman doesn’t ignore her man, Alena,” Keys pointed out. “And telling her to do that isn’t a good idea. That could get her in real trouble.”
Player thought the entire discussion was a good diversion when he knew Zyah was extremely nervous. He could feel the combination of laughter and feminine indignation, as if she couldn’t quite make up her mind if she should believe a word they said.
“Real trouble?” Zyah echoed. “I think you’re talking in Torpedo Ink code.”
“That should earn her punishment,” Maestro decreed. “I’m talking the real kind, Player, no joking around. She’s already putting herself in a dangerous position, and now she’s defiant.”
“That’s what comes of giving women choices,” Savage chimed in.
“Giving women choices,” Zyah echoed, her voice strangled. Outraged. But definitely amused at the same time. “Player, do you want to explain this conversation to me?”
“It means I’ve evolved and they haven’t, baby. I have no intention of spanking that pretty little ass of yours, although it is a temptation.”
She nearly whirled around right there on the floor of the restaurant to find where he was in the shadows, but fortunately, Alena slung an arm around her waist, preventing Zyah from giving them away.
Player didn’t know if he really was that much more evolved. Not that he would ever want to dictate to Zyah, but he didn’t want her to have a second job, as much as he wanted to help Alena out. When would they ever see each other? Even living together.
Player? At once Zyah connected to him on an intimate level. Mind to mind. Just the two of them. What’s wrong? I know they were just teasing to get me to relax.
They were and they weren’t. It was a running argument among the members, on how far one went to keep a partner in line, but that wasn’t what had him worried. He had made up his mind to be truthful with her, and this subject bordered on something he wasn’t so certain he knew the truth about.
I realized I really don’t want you to have a second job. I hadn’t thought much about it before. A part of me is being selfish because I want to spend time with you. I work during the day, so the job at the store is fine. I had hoped the nights I play at the bar with the band you’d be there with me. And what happens if Anat gets to a point where she can’t live alone? I’ve thought a lot about that. She can’t go into a nursing home, Zyah. We won’t know how they’re treating her. If I hadn’t become suspicious of that therapist or you hadn’t insisted she get a second X-ray, she could have been really injured. If you have a
second job, who would look after her? We could hire someone, but then we’d have to have cameras. I wouldn’t mind staying home, but she would be uncomfortable with me taking her to the bathroom . . .
Player.
With the way she said his name, brushing it so intimately along the walls of his mind, gently stroking each letter, each syllable, so lovingly, she took his soul.
I don’t want to be that man, putting my job ahead of yours. He didn’t. I don’t think I’m more important than you are, or that what I do should come before what you do. He knew that much was true. But what was he thinking? Or saying? Or trying to say?
Now that I’m really looking at myself and putting it in perspective, I don’t want you to take a second job because I don’t want to give up my music. It’s part of who I am. It was part of his soul. He needed music. I have to play. But maybe I don’t have to play with the band in the bar at night. It’s possible I could give those nights up to be here at the restaurant with you if this job means that much. I could chop vegetables for Alena. She needs the help.
Player, stop, Zyah gently chided him. You’re overthinking everything. We’ve got time. Right now, I’m worried about Mama Anat. Are you certain they can’t get to her?
On some level he knew she was distracting him just as the Torpedo Ink members had been distracting her. Still, he caught the hint of genuine worry for her grandmother. He should have known she was worried about her grandmother, not herself. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t be seen with her. Half of Torpedo Ink is with her. Jonas has Jackson Deveau watching over her as well. Just follow Alena’s lead. Everything will be fine.
Player was grateful the two of them had such an intimate connection they could talk mind to mind. They would have an advantage if something went wrong. He didn’t like using her as bait to draw the thieves out, but he knew the robbers were getting desperate. Better to be ready for them, draw them out into the open, have them make their move on Torpedo Ink’s terms, than have to scramble to keep Zyah and Anat safe.
Once Zyah laid out her concerns to him, that Francine was the local snitch, he was certain she was right. He already had his suspicions about Terrie Frankle working with the thieves. He had no real reason, other than she had access to every household where the robberies had taken place other than Perry’s parents. He’d asked Jackson Deveau to check for him. The deputy had done so and confirmed Frankle had been the therapist for someone in each household.
Code had checked further to see if the therapist had worked in any of the other small towns where the robberies had occurred prior to Sea Haven. In every other case, Frankle had worked as a therapist. When she hadn’t, a man by the name of Lester Gibbons worked as a traveling therapist. They alternated. While Code was following that trail, apparently Jackson had been doing the same thing. It hadn’t taken much to convince Jonas and Jackson to let them give Frankle and the crew their shot at the Gamals.
Destroyer is in the house with Anat. Lana is on the roof across the street, and she never misses. Jackson Deveau is right there to stop anything, and Czar has the other half of Torpedo Ink watching over her. I’m telling you, baby, she’s safe. Just please stay close to Alena when you walk into the kitchen. We have no idea if they’ll take the bait, but if they do, that’s where it might happen.
Zyah suddenly stopped right at the door of the kitchen, pulling her phone from the pocket of her jeans and looking down at it. “Francine is calling me. She never calls. She always texts.”
“Answer it,” Steele commanded. He was used to running their operations, forgetting Jonas was also wired in.
“Act normal, Zyah,” Jonas counseled.
Zyah kept the phone close to her ear so the extremely sensitive wire in her ear could pick up Francine’s voice.
“You said to call if I needed you, Zyah. You have to come get me right now.” There was a sob in Francine’s voice. She sounded frantic—and genuine.
“What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I was so stupid wearing Gran’s jewels. I was robbed. They beat me up. You have to come get me right now.” “Do you need an ambulance? Where are you? I can’t come get you if I don’t know where you are, Francine.”
“Are you at home?”
“No, hon, I’m at Crow 287. I’m interviewing for another job, but it doesn’t matter, I’ll come get you. Just tell me where you are. I can send someone if I’m not close enough.”
“No!” Francine wailed the denial so loud it hurt Player’s ear. “It has to be only you. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Gran. I wasn’t supposed to be wearing the jewelry. The insurance won’t cover it.”
Francine sounded like she was babbling. The way she went from sobbing to talking almost crazy to then insisting that Zyah come alone puzzled Player. He found himself nearly believing the woman, that she’d been robbed and was terrified and wanted her friend to help her. That she couldn’t get herself under control and didn’t know how to face her grandmother. God only knew what had happened to her or how severely the thieves had hurt her. On the other hand, why was she insisting Zyah come alone?
“Francine.” Zyah poured authority into her voice. “Honey, I need to know where you are. I’m coming to get you, but you have to tell me where you are. Do you need anything?”
“Promise me you’ll come alone. You won’t bring Player.”
“Why do I need to come alone? Why is that so important?”
Francine shrieked unintelligibly into the phone, her words nothing but gibberish, crying so loud that if Player could have easily done so, he would have removed his earpiece. He was fairly certain all of them would have. Why would she specifically tell Zyah not to bring Player with her? That raised all kinds of red flags.
“Calm down, Francine. I can’t understand anything you’re saying.”
“You have to come get me right now. Just you. Please, Zyah. I know I haven’t always been a very good friend, but I really need you. I’m at the headlands. You know where the blowhole is, right? Just there.”
Zyah looked up, straight toward the shadows where Player was concealed, her expression sorrowful. That particular spot was on the bluffs, overlooking the ocean. Down from the headlands, in the town of Sea Haven, Zyah’s grandmother lived on one street, and a street over, with the blowhole centered in between, was Francine’s grandmother’s home. Francine could easily walk to where she lived. In the time it would take for Zyah to drive from the restaurant in Caspar to the headlands in Sea Haven, Francine could easily be home.
Francine must have realized by Zyah’s silence what she was thinking. “My clothes are torn, Zyah. I can’t walk around looking like this. Someone might see me.” She had lowered her voice as if someone might hear her.
Zyah’s expression changed to one of horror. Player willed her to replay the sound of Francine’s voice, not just hear the words every woman feared most. Alena touched Zyah’s arm very gently. Zyah took a visible breath.
“Do you need me to bring you anything?”
“A coat if you have one.”
“I do. I’ll come right away.” Zyah ended the call before Francine could say anything else.
Eyes are on you, baby. Take a deep breath. You can do this.
She was lying. At the end, she was lying. I don’t know about her clothes, but she was lying about not being able to walk home.
I know.
“She was lying,” Zyah said aloud to the others. “I know her very well. I know her voice, the inflections. She wasn’t telling the truth. She lives right down the road from where she says she is. She could walk from there. She’s setting me up. She has to be the one who is helping all the thieves break into the neighborhood homes.”
Ink, do you have eyes on the spotter? We have to take him out the minute Zyah is in her car, Steele commanded, using telepathic communication so Jonas was unaware.
They all heard the cry of an owl missing its prey. I’m on him. Savage is moving in on him with me. We’ll do
the setup so Jonas will see we have no choice but to take him out.
Savage, don’t get crazy with this one, Steele cautioned. Don’t take a hit. Just make it look good so Jonas believes what we want him to believe.
Might not have a choice. Jonas has to believe this is real, Steele. I’ll do my best.
“I’m going to have to go alone in the car,” Zyah said. “They have someone watching. I can feel them out there.”
“No way are you going alone,” Player said decisively. “Absolutely not.”
“She’s the bait,” Jonas said. “That was the entire point of the setup. She doesn’t go, we’re not going to catch them. Your entire club is going to be surrounding her. Not to mention I’ll be there.”
“I’m going with her,” Alena announced. “Come on, Zyah. We’re going in my car. I brought the BMW. She rides like a dream. We’ll go through the kitchen.”
“You have a restaurant to run,” Zyah protested.
“I brought in help for the night,” Alena said, looking smug. “Delia and Bannister are cooking for me tonight while I’m gone. Delia has tons of experience. She’ll handle things just fine while I’m with you. They aren’t going to freak because you’re with another woman.”
“She’s right about that,” Jonas said. “They won’t like it, but they won’t see her as a threat. Don’t wear your colors.”
Alena gave a little sniff of absolute disdain as she let the kitchen door swing closed behind them, cutting off Player’s view of his woman. His heart nearly stopped. He turned immediately and nearly sprinted down the hall to a small door built into the wall, the one that was an escape should they need it. He exited the building that way. Jonas and Keys followed him out. Player moved around to the side of the building where the owl had called to them.
Reckless Road Page 36
