Molly sniffed with displeasure. “Don’t you dare make this about you.”
He suspected he was about to get chewed out.
“Maybe you should decide whether you want her to be a case or a love interest. You can’t have both,” she said in a matter of fact tone. “You shouldn’t assume she’s sleeping with the enemy either.”
He blinked once, twice. “What?”
“She's shot down Sean’s advances for weeks, but he just keeps firing away. Now that you've blown your chances to hell, I'm scared she'll allow him to fill that gap."
Brody’s stomach turned somersaults. Molly was exaggerating. She had to be. “Please tell me you’re not serious.”
She stared ahead at the traffic. After a few moments, she shook her head and groaned. “The two of you must be the dumbest people I know.”
He frowned. “I think I got lost somewhere in this conversation.”
“She's afraid of how she feels about you, you idiot. Ever since she met you, you're all she thinks about.”
“She’s all I can think about too.”
She shot daggers at him with her eyes. “Cut the crap. You just wanted to get into her pants. Just bitten? That’s such bullshit. Couldn’t you have tried something like: I’m a guy, you’re a girl?”
His plan of action had made sense at first, in its own twisted way. Trust wasn’t an emotion he was willing to expend on people. He’d been proven wrong far too many times and now the moment was lost.
“I did, at first, but she never took notice. I had to do something drastic just to get her to talk to me.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Way to go.”
He ran his finger across the dog-eared edge of the folder. “This gives a skewed view of things. It doesn’t show who I really am.”
“Yeah well, neither did the lies.” Her voice was neutral. “You had a chance, but you blew it.”
Brody knew she was right. “I care about her, Molly. I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“She’s in love with you, jackass.” She pulled the car into the beach lot where his car was parked. “But now it’s complicated. She’s going through things that scare her and she doesn’t know where to turn. She’s vulnerable right now.”
“Sean is dangerous.” Contempt darkened his features. "I can't go back to the club. I don't know how I can protect her from him."
Molly parked a few cars down from his. “I don’t either. Nicky keeps turning him down, but he acts like they’re dating. I’m worried about her. His infatuation scares me."
It did more than scare Brody. It made him ill to think Stone dreamed of touching her. He might actually get the chance to fulfill those fantasies now that Brody had blown his chances to hell.
Since Nicole wouldn’t listen to him, he did the next best thing. He told Molly everything. This time, there were no half-truths and he didn’t sugar coat anything.
Molly looked a bit pale when he finished.
“I may have fucked up my chance at being with the girl I love, but I’ll be damned if I let Sean hurt her. I’ll kill the bastard.” He meant every word.
“I’m positive Sean was on the beach last night,” Molly said.
Tanned girls in bikinis lay on the sand and soaked up the sun. Further down, a dog ran to the water’s edge, snapped at each crest with exhilaration. Brody watched the mutt’s progress across the sand. “That’s what worries me.”
“Aaron was there too. He’s the guy who…”
“I know who he is.”
Molly stared at the palm trees at the other end of the lot. “Sean just looked on, like he’d ordered them to come after us.”
“Maybe he did.”
Molly mulled this over for a moment. “But why?”
Brody shrugged. “I broke into Stone’s house a few nights ago. I found files on you and Nicole.” He didn’t meet her eyes, fearful she’d see the knowledge of her past in his eyes. “He’s using her and I can’t figure out why.”
His companion was at a loss for words. He knew it was a risk. He was sticking his neck out, but he said what was on his mind anyway. “Nicole may know more about what’s going on than she’s told you. If that’s the case, she could be in major trouble. Sean likes to play with his quarry.”
She picked at a loose thread on the seat. Her eyes were downcast and cloudy. “We’ve got to help her, Brody.”
Brody shook his head, but said nothing. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe he could just turn his back on Nicole. There was a connection there. He’d known from the moment he’d first met her that she was the one for him. If he could just make her see the obvious. That was going to prove difficult seeing how she had shut him out.
“Here, I took this from her room.” Molly withdrew a white pill from her pocket then held it out to him. “She said Sean gave them to her."
“Wolfsbane?”
Molly looked like she might cry. “I don’t think so. She’s been more out of control than ever.”
Brody’s fist closed around the pill. He said nothing more about the drug, but hope arose in him. He still knew a few people in forensics. Perhaps he’d provide them with a sample to test. Maybe if he had solid proof, Vasquez, and the department would believe him. More importantly, it might help rebuild Nicole’s trust in him.
He opened the car door and swung his legs out. The situation would have to be mulled over. He’d have to proceed with caution or risk pushing Nicole even further away. A twist of guilt played hell on his emotions. He should have been truthful with Nicole from the very start.
“That’s it?” Molly peered up at him, her face twisted in disbelief. “What are you going to do about it? You can’t just give up.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Molly.” He closed the door with a thump then walked toward his own car.
Molly had stared at him for a few stunned moments before she pulled away from the curb. He slipped inside his car and found the keys in their usual hiding spot. Dispirited and exhausted, he arrived home without taking notice of what route he’d taken to get there. He let himself inside and flopped onto the couch.
He awoke some time later to a grumbling stomach. It was dark and the house was silent. He padded across the living room toward the kitchen.
Standing over the sink, he devoured a turkey sandwich and an overripe banana. He brushed crumbs from the cabinet then fished the pill out of his pocket. He turned it over in his hand searching for any clues that would link it to Pharm-lab. Finding none, he dropped it into a zippered baggie and tucked it into a nearby drawer. The message light on the phone caught his eye. Had he slept through its ring? Molly had probably called to remind him of what a dumbass he’d been.
Instead of checking it, he padded into the bathroom and stripped the jeans off his legs. He kicked them out of the way and twisted the shower knob all the way to the left. He stepped into the blistering stream and water seared each and every wound. He doubted very much he’d be able to soap away the shame and betrayal that was now a permanent part of him.
Once his skin was clean, scalded an angry pink, he toweled off and made his way toward the living room once again. He spied the folder on the floor where he’d dropped it. Something would have to be done about that, but what? How could he reverse the damage that had already been done. There was no way to erase the doubt that had been planted.
He crossed to the phone and pressed the necessary numbers to retrieve the message stored within.
Jimbo’s voice vibrated the tiny speaker. His tone sounded pinched, maybe fearful or nervous. “Brody? Come by the shop, I uh, there’s something here you might find interesting.” There was a lot of shuffling on the line. Someone in the background spoke low and menacing. It might be a customer, but he didn’t think it was that simple.
He dropped the phone onto the couch and sprinted into the bedroom. He swiped a clean shirt from the pile on top of his dresser.
Twenty minutes later, he rolled to a stop in front of the pawn shop. The closed sign was turned,
the shades were drawn, but the lights were on. He hurried to the door and banged an open palm against it. “Jimbo, its Brody.”
There was no answer from within. He glanced at the other shops on the street. All were dark and silent at this late hour. He stepped back and surveyed the door. The roll-up door had not been pulled down and locked. Jimbo must still be inside.
A shadow blotted the window. The crash and clang of items hitting the floor all at once disturbed the eerie silence.
He ducked between the pawn shop and the building closest to it.
The back door stood ajar. Mottled yellow light bled into the murky shadows that surrounded the building. His shoes crunched against broken glass. The security bulb above the door had been disabled.
Brody pressed himself against the wall to the left of the doorway. He listened for movement within. Whoever waited inside had taken a break from destroying the place and he imagined they were waiting to ambush him.
The faint hum of the oscillating fan Jimbo kept behind the counter was the only noise. He lifted his head and took a breath of the air. The fan turned in his direction and carried the odor of fresh blood. Just under that, the scent of leather and cheap cologne tickled his nostrils.
Caution guided him into the building. He moved past the fallen shelves and broken items that littered the floor. From behind one of the few upright shelves, Brody surveyed the front of the shop. One of Jimbo’s scuffed, brown loafers rested in a puddle of blood at the end of the counter.
Something wet squished beneath his right sneaker. A detached finger lay just beneath the toe of his shoe. He backed away and bumped into a very solid body. Brody turned and automatically assumed a defensive stance.
Jimbo’s sweaty, blood-spattered face was pale. His hands gripped the front of Brody’s shirt. Blood smeared the fabric and it was easy to see where the finger had come from. In fact, two others were gone. All but one was taken off at the lowest knuckle. A crimson stream flowed from the nubs, down his arm and to the floor between them. “You gotta help me.”
Aaron swung the office door open and stepped out. The gun in his hand was held at chest level. In one swift move, he took a step forward and pulled the trigger.
Brody whirled away, shoving Jimbo at the same time. The pawn shop owner stumbled backward and fell against a shelf. It toppled and he went with it. The bullet missed the fat man and struck the wall instead.
Brody scuttled around the shelf. There wasn’t much he could do for Jimbo at the moment. Self-preservation ranked higher on his list anyway.
Aaron stood over Jimbo. The fat man clawed at the leg hovering over him, leaving red smears all over the denim. Aaron brought his boot down on the pawn owner's head. He did it again and again until the man stopped bleating. Blood and brains leaked from Jimbo’s crushed skull.
Brody launched himself at Aaron. The weapon flew from his hand and skittered across the floor. Aaron jabbed him with an elbow.
Greasy black hair hid most of Aaron’s face, but Brody could see the crusty dried blood on his chin. He grinned to show off crimson stained teeth. “We’ve got some unfinished business to take care of.”
Brody rubbed at the hollow of his shoulder where Aaron’s elbow had nailed him. “So why didn’t you look for me instead of killing him?” He indicated Jimbo with a tilt of the chin.
Aaron laughed at that. “I’m not paid to give a damn, man.” He lunged at Brody, who sidestepped him.
Aaron moved just out of reach. “Stone told me where my whore of a wife was. He paid me to screw with her head.” He laughed at that. “And she thinks I’m the sick fuck, right?”
Brody knew he should keep Aaron talking just to distract him. He didn’t’ like the subject matter, but pressed on. “What else did Stone pay you to do?”
Aaron looked at him almost as if weighing his next words. “He promised me free run with her after he’s done,” Aaron stalked around the shelf. The skin of his face tightened and moved. “I’m gonna make that bitch sorry she ever left me.”
“You’re not going to lay a hand on her.”
Aaron dove at Brody and caught him by the front of the shirt. He hauled him closer. His grin was feral as the bones of his face slid in and out of shape.
Brody registered that someone else had entered the shop. Tony’s scent filled the immediate area. He grasped Brody’s shoulder and hauled him backward, away from Aaron.
Brody stumbled against Jimbo’s legs. There was a gun in Tony’s hand. It was the same one Aaron had used. Tony didn’t waste any time. He whipped his arm up and fired.
Brody attempted to twist away, but it was too late. Pain exploded through his left side. He clasped a hand against it and a fair amount of blood trickled through his fingers.
“Die already.” Tony wore a crooked smile. He backhanded Brody, gun still in hand.
Brody fell across Jimbo’s outstretched legs.
****
“Get up,” a gruff female voice demanded. He didn’t move so she kicked his leg.
Brody struggled to sit up. The left side of his t-shirt was glued to the skin. The fabric tore away from the dried blood with each movement. A fresh trickle of blood warmed his skin and he winced in pain.
Vasquez stood a few feet away, a wary frown on her face. “What have you done now, Brody?”
“I’ve been shot.” He was still unable to believe it.
“I can see that.” There was no compassion in Vasquez’s voice. “What I want to know is why Jim shot you.”
A crime scene investigator meandered past.
“He didn’t.” Brody pushed himself up onto his feet. Jimbo’s body was gone. “Stone’s men were here. Aaron took care of Jimbo and Tony shot me.”
Vasquez cast an incredulous glance at him. “It’s just a flesh wound, Brody. You’re fine. Jim, on the other hand, is deader than dead. What the hell possessed you to do that to him?”
Brody wasn’t where he should be. He hadn’t fallen here. “This isn’t right.”
Vasquez regarded him with a smug expression. “Maybe you’d better explain it. It looks like you and Jim got into it. Maybe you knocked a few shelves over then chewed a couple of his fingers off? What were you doing, trying to scare more information out of him?”
“I didn’t do this,” he maintained.
Vasquez wasn’t going to listen. He could see it in her eyes. She wore the same expression when she questioned suspects she knew were full of shit.
She pointed at the bullet hole in the back wall. “You must have scared him pretty bad. It looks like he took a shot at you, but missed. You came after him again and he got you.”
“Not a bad guess, but you’re wrong.” He searched the immediate area for the discarded weapon. “Where’s the gun?”
“We took it out of Jimbo’s hand.”
“Check him for gunpowder residue. He didn’t fire the gun. Besides, it’s hard to shoot someone after your head’s caved in. Even if it was possible, the trajectory is wrong.”
“There’s blood on your lips. You chewed on his hand.” She placed her hands on her hips and tapped the toe of her shoe on the cement floor. “I’d say his aim was off.”
Brody shook his head, desperate to make her understand. “Tony hit me and I fell backward across Jimbo’s legs. The bullet would have taken a different path. And for the record, that’s my blood. Tony busted my lip.”
Vasquez’s eyes were expressionless. “We didn’t find you near Jim, Brody. You were here, he was over there.” She pointed at a bloodied spot closer to the front of the store.
“They’re setting me up.”
"Not this song and dance again," Vasquez groaned.
“I have to check on Nicole.” He moved down the aisle and stepped over the trashed electronics.
Two uniformed policemen filled the doorway.
“Put him in cuffs then haul him downtown.” Vasquez stood with arms crossed over her chest, a no-nonsense grimace on her face.
Chapter Seventeen
The nightclub w
asn’t full tonight. In fact, it was at its lowest capacity since Nicole had worked there. It was easy to walk the floor. For once, she wasn’t bumped by every single body she passed.
Her forlorn gaze fell to the DJ booth. A couple of club-goers stopped to ask about Brody’s whereabouts. Most seemed shocked to learn he wouldn’t be back. Each time she said it, it hurt all over again.
Things would be different now that he was gone. Maybe, just maybe, she could get her life back on track and focus on the things that mattered—the people who mattered.
Brody did matter, even though she told herself that he shouldn’t. She’d fallen head over heels for him. Last night, Molly told her what she and Brody had talked about. It tore her heart to shreds to think he’d gone through so much, but he hadn’t trusted her with the truth. She couldn’t be in a relationship where there was no honesty.
She spotted Sean seated at the bar, his chin rested on his fist and he appeared lost in thought. Molly, who had also returned to work, was at the opposite end. Ramon, the bouncer and bartender in training, looked right at home beside her. He had no problems keeping up with the slow pace the club had fallen into. Nicole noticed that he glanced in Molly’s direction often. Maybe he was developing a thing for her.
“Hi.” She climbed onto the stool next to Sean.
“Hello, Angel. It’s good to see you.”
Nicole surveyed the mirror above the bar. The same number of people gyrated on the dance floor and few people sat at the end of the bar. “You seem to be in a good mood.”
“I apologize for not coming by last night. Something came up.” He withdrew an unmarked brown pill bottle from his breast pocket and sat it atop the bar. “Here’s your medicine.”
Nicole snatched it from the counter. She cast a wary glance around and noticed Molly’s frown of disapproval. Ignoring her friend, she took one then stashed the pill bottle in her purse.
“Come with me. We have some things to discuss.” Sean didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he swiveled off the stool.
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