Draw Blood

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Draw Blood Page 5

by Cynthia Rayne


  Might as well invite the shadows in.

  A waiter took her to a corner booth, and she waited until the place emptied out. Soon the crowds were gone, and only a waitress remained, wiping down the tables. He was still playing, and she sat beside Ten on the piano bench.

  She sucked in a breath as he turned, as though just noticing her presence.

  ***

  “Aggie, you came to see me.”

  “Ten.” There was a barely perceptible edge to the way she’d said his name.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Truthfully, he was thrilled to see her. She’d come here all on her own and Ten didn’t know what to make of it. When it came to women, he was in over his head.

  She shrugged. “I was in town and thought I’d stop by.” He liked the fire in her eyes, the way they almost crackled with tension.

  “I’m glad you did. Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  “What can I get you? It’s on the house, by the way.”

  Poison Fruit was a passion of his, and he loved the winery. It made him happy— wandering through the orchard, making things grow. And he especially enjoyed picking ripe fruit from the vine, and whenever Ten bit into it, he could almost taste the sunshine.

  There was something healing, calming, about horticulture. He loved putting his hands in the dirt. Ten spent most of his time killing, and it was pleasurable to nurture a plant. He got the same feeling when he took care of Smokey.

  He knew it didn’t make up for the awful things he’d done or balance those cosmic scales, but it was something at least.

  “Thank you, Ten. Why don’t you choose?”

  “Let’s try out some Toxin. It’s a crowd favorite.”

  “You know, I heard some interestin’ rumors about Crimson Creek.”

  “Is that right?”

  He continued retrieving the wine, unperturbed. Most folks got really nervous when people questioned them. Not Ten. Hiding his thoughts and feelings was an ingrained survival skill.

  Ten guarded his secrets, even from the government. Although his documentation had been forged, the military hadn’t questioned him about it when he’d joined up, after he obtained his GED. Maybe because they’d been fighting two wars and needed able-bodied men who didn’t mind getting their hands dirty. Ten had kept his head down, didn’t speak unless spoken to, and worked his ass off, rising through the ranks.

  She squinted at him, disconcerted by his lack of response.

  “I bet you never lose at poker.”

  “I’m not much of a gambler.” It was too much of a risk for him. Ten preferred his life to be structured, planned.

  “You should give it a try. You’d make a fortune.”

  Ten scooted the glass of wine toward her, and he held his breath as she tasted it. He didn’t know why, but Ten wanted her to literally enjoy the fruits of his labor.

  “It’s very good.”

  “Thank you.” He felt a rush of unfamiliar joy. “As for your observation, I’ll keep it in mind, but as you can see, I have gainful employment.”

  “And is this your only job?” She glanced around the room. The staff had cleared out. They were probably in the break room, gathering their things, preparing to head home.

  “Of course.” The lie rolled off his tongue, smooth as silk. Lying to folks usually gave him a secret thrill.

  Ten loved to see their perplexed expressions as they tried to decide whether or not he’d fibbed. It had become something of a game. Strangely enough, he didn’t like lying to Aggie much.

  “And have you ever heard of Diego Ruiz?”

  Ten tried to keep his expression smooth and unruffled.

  “You have heard of him.” Aggie snapped her fingers. “See, I doubt a vintner would know about such a shady character.”

  “I didn’t say I knew him.”

  “Your expression did. Know what I think?”

  “No, please tell me.”

  “I think you’re a mobster.”

  He leaned forward. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

  Ten wasn’t certain what her intentions were. Last night she’d offered to sleep with him, and Ten wondered if he’d made a huge mistake by walking away. In fact, he was speculating as to whether or not Aggie would proposition him again, but it was probably wishful thinking.

  “Can’t it be both?”

  “I’ve found it’s usually one or the other unless you take pleasure in your work.”

  “I always do, but back to the point, I looked you up.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “And what did you find?”

  “A whole lot of nothin’, which doesn’t happen anymore. Everybody has a record—social media accounts, work websites, comments on articles, but I got a big fat zero from you. Tennessee Ross doesn’t exist.”

  “Clearly I do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Regardless, I need your help.”

  “To do what?” Ten was flattered, despite himself.

  “I have a case I’m workin’, and I could use a man like you.”

  “There’s no one like me.”

  And then Aggie launched into an explanation, detailing how Diego was suspected of kidnapping two little girls. Ten had heard of the man in certain circles, and it didn’t bode well for the family.

  “They should go to the Feds.”

  “I suggested that too. Unfortunately, they’re here illegally.”

  “This is pretty far away from my wheelhouse.” Ten took people out, tortured them for hours to get information. He didn’t track down suspects and rescue children.

  She flashed a photograph. “Ten, he took their children. Look at their faces.”

  And then he was staring at their apple-cheeks, and Ten’s heart thawed the smallest bit. They were young, vulnerable, and Diego might be doing all kinds of horrific things to them.

  What if they were suffering through the same trauma he’d endured? His stomach clenched and he found it hard to breathe. Ten swallowed and then pulled himself together.

  “I’ll help you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why? A second ago, you said you couldn’t. What changed?”

  “Does it matter?” Ten didn’t want to ponder the question and he sure as hell didn’t want Aggie to figure out why he’d agreed.

  “No, I guess I’ll just count myself lucky. Look, I doubt they can afford my fee, but I can pay you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, I got enough cash.”

  “And do you want a favor in return?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nope, there aren’t any strings on this deal.”

  “Thank you, Ten. So, how do you want to handle this?”

  “I’ll meet you tomorrow mornin’ at a bakery in town. If you give me your number, I’ll text you the details.” She rattled off her cell number, and he punched it into his phone, then texted Aggie, so she’d have his.

  “What time?”

  “I’ll give you a call beforehand. My schedule is flexible.”

  Tonight, he had plans to deal with a drug dealer who’d rolled into their town and he might not get home until the wee hours of the morning. Byron and Dix didn’t want that crap on their streets. At one time, the mafia had been in bed with a cartel, but Byron had shut it down. Yes, Ten was loving this new and improved mafia.

  “What does that even mean? Flexible?”

  “It means if you want my assistance, you have to play by my rules.”

  A muscle tightened in her jaw. “Fine.”

  “You’re not used to takin’ orders, are you?” Ten had learned to comply when it served his purpose.

  “Just so we're clear, I’m not obeyin’ you, I’m playin’ along to get what I want.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

  Chapter Five

  Any minute sugar plum fairies are gonna dance across this sidewalk.

  Aggie frowned at the pink and mint green storefront. When Ten had t
exted her the details, she’d been incredulous. Sugar Daddies seemed an unlikely venue to find an informant, but she’d go along with it for now.

  Through the spacious front window, she saw three wrought iron treat towers loaded with artfully arranged lady bug cut-out cookies. As she walked in the front door, a chirpy bell rang, announcing her presence. A couple of patrons sat at a white table with pink polka-dotted chairs, chowing down on enormous donuts and sipping coffee, which smelled pretty good.

  I’m gonna get me a cup of that and a big ass donut.

  She’d had a bit too much to drink last night. This morning she’d downed a couple of aspirins along with a multivitamin and some orange juice, but it hadn’t touched the headache. Sugar and caffeine would probably help matters.

  Then she noticed Ten chilling in a corner with his back to the wall.

  “What in the world are we doin’ here?” Aggie asked as she sat across from him.

  “Like I said, lookin’ for an informant of mine.” Once more, he wore his shades.

  Aggie fought the urge to pull them off the bridge of his nose. For some reason, she wanted to look him in the eye. Maybe it was all that “eyes are the windows of the soul” nonsense. Regardless, she longed to unravel a bit more of his mystery.

  “And he does business in a bakery?”

  “He’s just a frequent visitor.”

  “It’s a little weird.” Aggie was used to getting info in seedy bars and back alleys.

  "I don’t see why.” He shrugged. “Even criminals like pastries.”

  “Who is he?”

  “A fence I know, named Max Caldwell.”

  A fence bought and sold stolen items. Aggie supposed it would put Max in contact with a lot of other criminals, so the lead had potential.

  “Can I get you, folks, somethin’?”

  She glanced up to see a man standing next to the table with a little pad and pen.

  “I’d like a donut and coffee, please.”

  “Black coffee and banana bread,” Ten said.

  “You got it.” He wrote a note for himself and then eyed Aggie up and down like she was an actress strutting herself on the red carpet. “I’m Walker Evans, but you can call me Walk, and who might you be?”

  She guessed Walk was in his forties, going by the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. He was a tall, thin man with gorgeous features—high cheekbones, a square jaw, and a long, thin nose. His hair was platinum blond, courtesy of a bottle, no doubt, and he had bright blue eyes highlighted by a blue cashmere sweater paired with slim-fitting jeans.

  “Aggie Byrd, pleased to meet you.” She shook his hand.

  “And how do you know Ten?”

  “We’re friends.”

  Ten inclined his head but didn’t say anything.

  “Is that right?” Walk winked. “Do you mean friends or friends?” His voice lowered an octave on the last bit.

  “It’s the first one.” For the moment, at least. She made no promises about the future.

  “Walk seems friendly,” Aggie said, hooking a thumb in his direction.

  Ten arched a brow. “Very.”

  Aggie got the impression Walk had tried to pry information out of Ten all the time. She doubted he’d had much success. Walk returned a few minutes later with their food and drinks and then headed over to another table.

  “Shouldn’t you eat somethin’ a bit more substantial?” Ten asked.

  “Nah, I like some sugar with my caffeine.”

  The other day, when she’d opened up a box of Lucky Charms, Aggie had tossed out the boring cereal pieces in favor of the tasty marshmallows. Basically, Aggie drank and ate what she wanted, slept with whomever she pleased, did whatever made her happy, and didn’t give a rat’s booty about appearances anymore.

  She’d even gone on a spending spree after learning about her prognosis. As a result, she had credit card bills up the ying-yang, along with killer boots.

  Good luck gettin’ money from a corpse, bitches.

  It was liberating and a tiny bit sad.

  Aggie plucked the rainbow sprinkles from her donut and ate them. She closed her eyes, savoring the syrupy taste. Then she sank her teeth into the pastry.

  Ten wrinkled his nose.

  “Wanna bite?” She held out the donut. “It’s delicious.”

  Ten licked his lips. “I’ll pass.” His voice was dry, hoarse.

  Hmm, evidently he isn’t immune to me.

  “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

  She blinked at the topic change. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just makin’ conversation. I realized you questioned me about my situation, but I didn’t return the favor.”

  “I thought you weren’t interested.”

  He ignored the comment. “I didn’t mean to be presumptuous. Do you have a girlfriend then?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.” Except he didn’t look the least bit apologetic.

  “You run hot and cold, don’t you?”

  His lips curved. “Maybe I’m just startin’ to warm up.”

  Aggie liked the sound of that. In Ten, she recognized a kindred spirit. Neither one of them was quite right, which was a beautiful thing.

  That’s when a balding man with a potbelly walked into the bakery. He stopped at the counter and placed an order. Ten turned and watched his movements with an unnerving intensity.

  This must be Max.

  After Max paid, he turned to leave and then finally caught sight of the mobster. His hand shook so much, he almost dropped his pastry box.

  “Hello, Max, nice to see you. It’s time for a chat.” Ten shoved a chair backward with his foot, and it scraped across the floor.

  “Yeah, thanks, but I’ve gotta busy morning ahead of me.”

  “Nobody said this talk was optional.” Ten pointed at the seat. “Sit.”

  Gulping, the man took it. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m lookin’ for somebody, and I think your paths might’ve crossed.”

  “Squealing on my clients is really shitty for business.”

  “Ask me if I give a damn.”

  Aggie admired his technique, and she smothered a smile.

  “Come on.” He glanced around and then hunched his shoulders, as though trying to disappear. “I’m startin’ to get a rep.”

  “Not answerin’ my questions would be terrible for your health.” Ten gave a ghastly grin. It was frightening in its chilly intensity.

  Aggie made a mental note to never piss Ten off.

  The threat hung in the air.

  Max went pale. “What’s the guy’s name?”

  “Diego Ruiz,” Aggie said. “Heard of him?”

  Max pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Yeah, he moves merchandise back and forth over the border. Why are you lookin’ for him?”

  “None of your damn business.” Ten gripped his shoulder, the knuckles going white. To everyone else in the place, it looked like a friendly clasp. “Tell me where I can find him.”

  “It’s hard to say. Diego doesn’t stay in one place for long, and when he’s in the States, he hangs with friends. It’s not like he’s got an apartment.”

  Dammit. Without a permanent address, he was harder to track. If he couch surfed every time he came to town, Diego could be anywhere.

  “Fine, then give me a list of his associates,” Ten said, persisting. “You’ve gotta know who he does business with, right?”

  Max closed his eyes.

  “Now.”

  Ten’s lips peeled back from his teeth. There was something wild in him, a righteous sort of fury. Aggie imagined what he’d be like, if he let go, just unleashed.

  Oh, yeah, Ten gave her the shivers, and it wasn’t about fear. Aggie had trouble taking her eyes off Ten. He was dark, dangerous, and deadly—everything a girl wanted in a fling.

  “All right, fine, but I can’t promise anything.”

  “No problem, I don’t mind doin’ a bit of legwork, but Max...?”

 
; “Yeah?” He gulped.

  “If you tip him off, you’ll be sorry.”

  His face went ashy and then Max started talking. Suddenly, he was spilling all kinds of useful information.

  ***

  “Ugh, we’re getting’ nowhere.”

  Two hours later, Aggie closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. Ten had driven them around the county in his sleek black SUV with tinted windows. They’d rolled up to six places so far, and they’d found plenty of illegal activities, but nobody had seen Diego.

  She was beginning to think this was hopeless. Aggie worried she’d wasted valuable time the police could’ve used to track down Diego.

  “I’ve gotta good feelin’ about this next one.”

  “You said the same thing about the last three addresses.”

  “This one’s different.” He threw the SUV into park and jumped out. They’d pulled up to a rundown house at the end of the street. It was the middle of the day, and most folks were at work, so nobody was around.

  Ten had tucked the car in the backyard, which was fenced, so they were out of view. From what she’d observed, Ten had a tendency to make a scene, so being sneaky was a must.

  He seemed to be enjoying himself, although it was difficult to be certain. His face was a bit less blank, and earlier she’d caught him whistling a tune after he’d threatened a junkie for information.

  “You take the back, and I’ll kick in the front door. Deal?” Ten pulled a handgun from his holster.

  “Fine, but I doubt this is gonna pan out. I think Max told us a story.” Aggie also retrieved her weapon.

  “If he did, he’ll be sorry. I’ll see to it personally.”

  Aggie heard a note of warning in his tone and should’ve been concerned, but nope, it was kind of hot, in a twisted way.

  Oh yeah, I am so far off the reservation it ain’t even funny.

  While he took the front, she covered the rear.

  As Aggie turned the corner, she heard a commotion and then the door swung open. A man sprinted down the back stairs and headed for the fence.

  “Stop!” She raised her gun.

  He ignored her and kept going, so Aggie fired a warning shot, which went whizzing by his head. Thanks to the silencer Ten had let her borrow earlier, it didn’t make much noise. Aggie didn’t want to contemplate why he had a stash of those in his car.

 

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