Tony didn’t notice their apprehension. Instead, he gestured toward their trunk. Brody tried to read their lips, but found it impossible at this distance. The black man nodded and jangled his keys. Tony popped the trunk of his car. The first nondescript box was tucked inside.
Park gripped the walkie-talkie. “We’re moving in.”
“We got him,” Estrada whispered to Brody. “Stay here.”
The detectives slipped their service weapons from their holsters and tore across the shabby wooden structure. Brody launched himself out the window and hit the sand. Estrada and his partner hadn’t even cleared the last stair.
“Freeze!” Park charged down the beach. "You're under arrest!"
“Hands on your head!” Erikson shouted as he moved down the hill. “Get on the ground!”
The driver whipped a gun up and took aim at Park and Estrada. Park discharged his weapon, a sharp crack reverberated off the waves. Blood blossomed across the front of the man’s shirt. His body crumpled then lay sprawled in the sand, no longer a threat.
Tony’s face shimmered with the threat of change. His good hand pulled a pistol from the sling and fired. He dove for the other side of his car.
“I’m hit!” Estrada screeched. He fell to his knees and gripped his wounded shoulder. The sharp tang of blood reached Brody and it hadn’t even seeped through the cop’s fingers yet.
“Drop the gun, Tony!” Brody crouched between the two cars. His own weapon was in his hand. He didn’t expect to use it unless he got a clear shot.
Tony popped up over the hood to squeeze off a couple rounds. One struck the sand next to Estrada the other sailed high. The injured detective curled into a defensive position in hopes of avoiding being hit again.
Erikson crouched behind the lookout tower, his pistol aimed at the other drug dealers. He and Park were shouting for them to put their hands on their head and get on the ground.
Two of the men flopped on their bellies and linked their fingers. They were no strangers to being arrested.
Brody ducked down to peer beneath the car. He spotted Tony’s feet toward the end where he crouched. He duck walked toward the front, eager to catch Tony off guard. The next time he popped up to take a shot, Brody planned to nail him.
The roar of adrenaline forced his pulse to thrum in his ears. He crouched, ready with gun drawn and watched for Tony’s next movement.
Jackson’s voice crackled over the din of men yelling and waves crashing. “The wolf is headed in your direction.”
The sand crunched nearby and Brody was dismayed to discover that Tony had already reached the end of the car. Tony fired off two more rounds. Park and Erikson returned fire, but didn’t have any luck.
“Where are you?” Tony roared.
Brody stayed low to avoid being seen. He scrabbled in the sand and took aim at Tony’s left leg.
He waited, all his senses honed in on Tony’s scuffed brown dress shoes. They moved toward the front of the car again. He was crouched just out of Jackson and Park’s range.
Brody’s arm stretched beneath the car. His grip on the gun was steady and his finger rested on the trigger.
"Wolf!" one of the others cried.
“There you are,” Tony growled.
The loafers stopped and Brody squeezed the trigger. A deafening sound resounded beneath the car and Tony’s left leg twisted beneath him. The bodyguard fell against the sand onto his back. Blood seeped from his shredded pant leg.
Tony lurched into a sitting position and brought the pistol around. Already Brody had scrambled up, but stopped. Tony’s expression was one of fear. He was not looking at Brody, but beneath the car.
Stone was up on the hill, not yet close enough to trigger too much concern.
Tony’s sharp intake of breath brought his attention back to him. Already on hands and knees, Brody scanned the underside of the vehicle. The blink of a tiny red light about midway up the car’s belly caught his attention. A coiled wire hung loosely from a metal box and ran toward the trunk.
Tony made a feeble noise of shock then pushed himself backward with his good leg. He’d dropped the weapon and was now using his good hand to propel himself away from the car.
“Bomb!” Brody scrambled around the front of the Suburban and ran toward the lifeguard lookout. He snagged Estrada’s shirt collar and dragged the heavier man toward safety. Park didn’t have to be told twice. He turned and ran back up the beach, a few steps behind Brody. Erikson, on the other hand, stood with a confused expression on his face. He was more concerned about the white wolf that sat on the dune behind them.
Tony’s car exploded in a shower of fire and twisted steel. Shards of glass and pieces of molten metal rained down on them. The night sky was lit a violent orange. Erikson’s charred and broken body landed a few yards away. The smell of burnt flesh twisted Brody’s gut. What was left of Erikson’s clothes was scorched and smoldering.
Beside him, Park shouted into his walkie-talkie for help. Estrada lay across Brody’s legs. Tears slipped from his eyes. He was bleeding heavily and going into shock. Someone, he assumed Glaser, barked questions out of the black box clipped to Estrada’s belt. The ringing in Brody’s ears kept him from hearing the entire conversation.
In fact, everything including the roar of flames sounded dull and far away. Stone had won…again. All the evidence had been blown to bits.
He extracted himself from Estrada’s body. Stone had vanished from the hill. He scanned the immediate area, but caught no sign of the white wolf. Though he despised Tony, he was shocked that Stone had sacrificed him.
A car pulled to a stop at the top of the hill, just feet from where Stone had sat. Glaser and Jackson tumbled from the car and made their way down the steep incline.
Glaser shouted orders while the others scrambled to carry them out. “Where’s the wolf?”
Brody had no idea. He searched for Tony’s body instead. There was no way he could have survived the blast. He’d been closest to the car when it had exploded.
He ran haphazard across the sand in search of remains. He found the delivery men. Their bodies were mangled. The two who had dropped to the sand were injured but alive. Pieces of the car lay across one and the other had been pelted with glass. Park helped Brody drag them away from the crackling flames.
Sirens rounded the curve of the beach. Two ambulances and a fire truck screeched to a halt above them. Four black and white cruisers followed. Men poured down the hill while a couple of the uniformed cops blocked off the road that led to and from the beach.
Brody moved forward, ignoring the men who yelled and ran past him. His sensitive nose twitched in recognition a few yards away from the twisted, burning mess. The lower half of Tony’s leg lay on the sand. It was shoeless and mangled. It had twisted from the limb. The open end was charred and smelled of burnt meat.
Glaser was at his side in a moment. “The other car didn’t burn completely and there are still boxes inside. You did it, Brody. You stopped the shipment.”
Glaser made his way back toward his men. Brody turned to watch him go, a frown on his face. This was just part of his goal. He wanted Sean Stone behind bars. That wasn’t exactly true. Brody would prefer him dead.
“Tony!” he roared in frustration. “Where the hell are you?”
An anguished moan answered. Brody crashed to his knees beside the broken man. His body was crispy and coated with ash. Brody was afraid to touch him for fear he would disintegrate.
Park called out to him, questioning his location. The others voiced their confusion about his whereabouts.
Tony gripped his arm and some of the flesh came away from his fingers. Disgust boiled within Brody, but he did not pull away. Tony’s eye rolled in its socket. He spoke and it sounded like a drunk’s slurred words. “Sean did this?”
Numbness washed over Brody. Stone had sacrificed someone close to him to save his own ass. He’d pointed the blame in Tony’s direction and would let him be the fall guy. “He sold you out, man. Wo
rse, he planned it so you’d die.”
Tony hesitated and Brody noticed moisture on his blackened cheeks.
“Tell them everything, man. Pay him back.”
Tony’s fingers slipped from Brody’s arm. He turned his head and hissed, “Yes.”
Brody stood, waved his arms and called out to the others. “Over here! Hurry!”
Paramedics retrieved a stretcher from their truck and raced across the sand.
“Stay with me, Tony. Help’s coming.”
“I would have done anything for him.” The bodyguard’s voice was weak. He shivered now and Brody knew it’d be a miracle if he made it to the ambulance.
Now that he’d bent closer, Brody could see that his entire body was swathed in burns. Glass and metal had embedded in his skin and tore chunks away. What was left of his flesh had begun to peel, leaving the meat beneath it exposed and raw.
Brody grimaced. The truth was, Tony had done everything Stone had asked whether it was good or bad. He wished the others would hurry. Tony was close to gone. If he died before he could tell them about Stone’s drug operation, they’d be back at square one.
“He has it made in the L.A. lab then ships it everywhere,” Tony gasped, unable to draw enough air into his scorched lungs. “Shipment every two weeks. Sometimes more. Contact’s name is Rolf. He’s a chemist or something.”
“Why did he go after me so hard? Why’d he set me up?”
A faint smile might have been his answer. Brody was unsure. Most of Tony’s lower lip had melted off. “Got too close.”
“Move aside.” An impersonal paramedic bent over Tony. Together he and his partner lifted the bodyguard onto the stretcher. The wheels hung in the sand and they had trouble on the hill. Brody gave assistance and hauled it up by himself. The paramedics were speechless, neither dared to imply anything.
“Find Stone,” Brody demanded once Glaser joined him. “The white wolf is Stone. He was here!”
Glaser shook his head. “We don’t know that for sure. Everything points in Tony’s direction. That wolf could have been anyone. I’ll have my men look around, see if they can find anything. That’s all I can promise.”
“Stone blew up his own man to cover the operation. He might wait a while for this to die down, but then he’ll start all over again.”
Glaser grimaced. “One of the delivery guys already spilled his guts. He said Tony orchestrated the whole thing. Always has. He’s never seen or met Sean Stone. It sounds like Tony went behind his back.”
“That’s bullshit!” Brody kicked at the sand. Stone would do anything to protect himself, even incinerate his own bodyguard, a man who’d been with him for the past ten or so years.
Glaser lifted a shoulder. “It’s what we’ve got. We’ll know more once we get an official statement from the delivery guys. Forensics just got here. They’ll process the delivery vehicle.”
“This isn’t right,” Brody ascertained. “This is just part of his plan.”
The curt paramedic stepped down from the back of the truck. He pulled latex gloves from his hands and his expression was grim. “We lost him.”
“Shit!” Brody smashed a fist against the side of the ambulance. A dent the size of a grapefruit resulted from the blow. The paramedic backed away with wide eyes and Glaser winced.
Brody pushed away from the ambulance and moved back down the hill.
Chapter Thirty-four
Someone’s excited voice drifted down the hill. He heard the word wolf somewhere in the garbled sentence. Brody dropped into a crouch, ready for the attack. He squinted into the darkness. There was nothing there but black water and shadows.
A larger than life, white wolf burst out of the darkness. Brody had no hope of staving off the attack in this form. He twisted away. The first twinge of transformation rocked him. Pain, he discovered, did not originate within his body. It wasn’t a side effect of his body breaking or twisting into a new shape. The origin was Sean Stone.
He was pinned against the sand beneath the wolf's body. Massive clawed hands that were more suited to a monster than a human, restrained Brody’s wrists. He twisted and thrashed, but it did no good. Every nerve within him came alive and exploded.
Stone wasn’t going to give him a chance. His teeth snapped at Brody’s exposed throat. Brody managed to wrench his right hand from Stone’s grasp. The creature reared back to go for the kill and Brody threw his hand up protect himself. At the same time, his body burst into a warped wolf form. The seams split and tore much like his skin and bones.
Stone’s mouth crunched his hand. Two inch teeth punctured the flesh and grazed the bone. Brody’s back arched and he scream-howled.
The white wolf’s eyes glinted in the light of someone’s flashlight. A shot was fired, but Sean didn’t relinquish his hold. Brody managed to wrench his hand out of Stone’s grasp. He swung his fist, connecting with the wolfish nose. Sean shook his head and snapped at Brody’s hand again.
Brody grasped the side of Stone’s furred face and shoved him backward. He rolled to his feet then remembered too late that his right hand was injured. It throbbed, unable to hold his weight. He reared up on his back legs and snarled instead.
Sean moved slow and stealthy, ears back, mouth open. He was on all fours now, crouched and ready.
The sound of waves crashing, the wolf growling, and the crunch of sand beneath the SDPD’s feet overwhelmed his senses. Glaser screamed orders at his men, and at the creature standing over Brody. Someone fired their weapon, but missed Stone and hit the water instead. The plunk it made evoked an absurd image of a jumping fish.
Stone leapt, claws spread, mouth gaping. Brody mirrored his movement.
Their furry bodies slammed into each other. Brody’s left hand lashed out, but Stone turned his head to avoid being scratched. Brody dove forward, his teeth latched onto Stone. This was going to end. Now.
Sean Stone's wolfish body fell atop him, their limbs twisted and twined. Brody fought to shove Sean’s heavier body off of him.
Stone rolled onto the sand, bright petals of crimson blossomed against stark white fur. His limbs twitched, but did not change. Claws scrabbled at his crushed throat and a look of confusion darkened his wolfish face. Stone’s frightened eyes sought out Brody.
His startled gaze fell to Brody’s bloodstained muzzle and understanding flitted across his gaze. A strange noise escaped him and within moments, he fell forward. A few seconds more and he stopped twitching.
Time stood still. Brody sank to his knees and concentrated on being human again.
It was over. It was finally over.
“Get the paramedics down here!” Glaser gripped Brody’s shoulder and helped him to his feet. He made no comment about the shredded clothes or the jeans that were busted at the seams.
"You on anything?" The police chief didn’t bother to hide his suspicions.
Brody shook his head. His fingers were slick with blood and numb with brain clouding pain. He curled his right hand against his chest in an attempt to protect it. Glaser led him toward the hill, worry evident on his face. Brody declined the help and made it to the top on his own. The paramedics climbed up the hill shortly after him, their stretcher loaded. Crimson blossomed across the sheet covered body beneath.
Brody stopped them. “Is he alive?”
The female paramedic shook her head. She looked a bit ill and Brody speculated that she was new to the job. Or maybe it had everything to do with witnessing a wolf become a man.
Glaser peeked beneath the sheet. “I’ll be damned. You were right.”
Brody glanced at Stone’s lifeless body. It had returned to human and was now pale and hairless. His eyes were half open and his throat was a bloody, crushed mess.
It seemed unreal that Stone was finally headed for the morgue.
A sleek white van was parked on the other side of the barricade. A blue number five was painted on the side. The reporter and cameraman worked their way closer. He flipped the sheet back over Stone’s face.
Trish Carter, a busty brunette, and her cameraman Carl shoved past the cops who had barricaded the beach. Carl stumbled, but righted himself at the last moment.
Trish made a beeline for Brody and Glaser. Carl filmed the beach and the men working it. He focused the camera on the ambulance’s open back doors and the sheet covered body inside.
“Hi! I’m Trish Carter,” she said in a smooth, practiced voice. “I’m from channel…”
“We know who you are,” Glaser snarled. “Turn the camera off.”
Brody tried to duck away, but she stayed with him. He remembered her from his time on the force. Her ambush interview tactics hadn’t changed a bit.
“We’re investigating the report of an explosion. Were there any casualties?” She craned her neck. “Plus we got some great footage of you and that wolf on the beach.”
“Someone escort her out of here!” Glaser barked at his men.
Park made his way toward them. “Ma’am, you need to be on the other side of the police line.”
The ambitious woman ignored the detective. The cameraman shoved the lens in Brody’s face.
“What happened here tonight?” she asked in a practiced voice.
Brody pushed past them and moved further up the hill. He didn’t have time or patience for this.
“Brody?” Trish’s high heels sunk into the sand and slowed her down. “Can I get a comment?”
“No comment!” Glaser and Park yelled behind them. Park came up fast behind her.
Trish cast a lopsided smile at the camera man. “Looks like another bust gone wrong, Carl. Let’s just get some footage and we’ll see who we can shake down later.”
Glaser caught Brody’s good arm. He nodded toward the hand curled against his chest. “You need to get that looked at, son. It looks pretty chewed up.”
Brody’s hand had been bitten clean through. The hand was tipped with claws and the fur dripped blood. He attempted to shift back, but couldn’t. He couldn’t uncurl his fingers either. “Fuck.”
Bitter Black Kiss Page 27
