Into the Dark (The Cincinnati Series Book 5) (Cincinnati 5)

by Karen Rose

  Once Ritz had cracked the encryption, Diesel would have access to all of King’s personnel data – including his address, phone number, and the phone number of his emergency contact, which would be a good place to start searching if he’d gone into hiding.

  And then? What will you do?

  Give the information to Deacon and Adam if they hadn’t already found it, of course, he told himself. He didn’t need to see King go down with his own eyes. In Diesel’s mind, the man had done a public service, ridding the world of John Brewer. The cops would ensure that King was punished for the other murders – and that the bastard was never able to hurt Michael.

  He turned back to the monitor on his left. He’d been running background checks on all of the casino’s staff – those he’d been able to find in places other than the server.

  The general manager, Jodie Spaeth, seemed to be doing well. She lived in a very nice home in Mount Adams and drove a new Audi. He’d have to dig into her financials to determine if she was in debt. She’d seemed genuinely surprised that the security man she knew was wanted for murder, but people in debt could often be persuaded to look the other way by lawbreakers.

  The riverboat was owned by Richard Fischer, forty-six. His photo showed a hometown-looking man with a warm smile. His image exuded warmth and vitality.

  Diesel didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him.

  Fischer’s net worth was staggering, if the news reports could be believed. He’d certainly need to be filthy rich to sustain his lifestyle. The man owned a gated home in Indian Hill, not too far from Jeremy’s mansion. That whole neighborhood was filled with mansions. According to DMV records, Fischer owned a Ferrari, a Bentley, and a classic Corvette.

  The Lady of the River was the smallest of all the riverboat casinos along the Ohio River, and Diesel was surprised – and suspicious – that Richard Fischer was making enough of a profit to finance his lifestyle.

  He’d started to dig into Fischer’s background when his cell phone buzzed with an incoming text. He glanced at the right-hand monitor, hoping for a miracle, but the program was still churning.

  The text was from Stone and read TALK TO HER, in all caps. Diesel typed WTF? and had hit SEND when there was a knock on his door.

  No, not a knock. Someone was banging on his front door.

  What the hell? He shoved away from his desk and ran to the door, his pulse jumping from normal to stratospheric as panic set in. Thoughts of Dani and the boys tumbled through his brain as the banging on the door got louder.

  I should have stayed. Goddammit. What if—

  He threw open the door and gaped. Dani stood on his welcome mat, her fist raised as if poised to bang some more.

  She glared up at him, then released her fist, pressing her palm flat to his chest and shoving him backward. Stunned, he stumbled, regaining his balance in time to see a black Escalade driving away.

  Stone. And then the text made sense.

  His phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced at the screen as Dani slammed the door shut behind them. It was another text from Stone.

  You’re welcome. Don’t fuck this up.

  Diesel tore his gaze away from his phone to Dani’s face. She was furious, her mismatched eyes narrowed and shooting sparks.

  God, she was gorgeous like this.

  ‘Don’t even,’ she snapped when he opened his mouth – to say what, he had no idea. So he closed his mouth and followed her as she strode into the kitchen and pointed at one of the chairs at the table he’d built himself.

  ‘Sit,’ she said curtly.

  He sat obediently and watched as she took the chair closest to his. Folding his hands in front of him, he waited for what would come next.

  She assumed a similar pose, then drew a breath and slowly released it. Lifted her chin. Held his gaze, hers boldly challenging. ‘I’ll cut to the chase. You will not go after this bastard Scott King all by yourself.’

  He blinked. ‘Okay,’ he said simply.

  She frowned, obviously not expecting that answer. ‘Okay? Just . . . okay?’

  He fought a smile, because he valued his life. ‘Of course. I never planned to. What made you think . . .’ The thought trailed off as the truth became crystal clear.

  ‘Stone,’ they said together.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘He said you were going after him by yourself.’ Then her lips flattened, her shoulders sagging. ‘No, he didn’t. I asked him if you were, and he said, “Diesel’s gonna do what he’s gonna do.”’

  Diesel licked his lower lip to hide its twitch. ‘Classic Stone. A non-answer to best fit his agenda.’

  ‘Which was to get me here so that I’d talk to you.’ She blew out a breath. Closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Diesel. I shouldn’t have barged in here like I did.’

  All the texts made sense now. ‘It’s okay,’ he murmured. ‘Where are the boys? Are they all right?’

  ‘The boys are fine. They’re at home with an entire platoon watching over them.’

  That thought made him smile. ‘Good. Can I get you something? Tea? Water?’

  Her hand gripped his arm when he started to rise. ‘No. Nothing. Just . . . give me a minute to regroup.’

  He retook his seat, resumed his pose, and waited.

  Bridgetown, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 12.57 A.M.

  Pulling the ski mask down to cover his face, Cade parked his SUV out of sight of the small safe house surrounded by trees and watched the Escalade until its taillights disappeared. He’d followed that goddamn Escalade out to the middle of nowhere, worried all the while that Detective Stone would stop any minute to find out why he was being trailed, but he hadn’t. Hell of a detective he is.

  Stone had dropped Dani Novak off at the house, waiting only until she was inside before driving away. Cade figured there had to be at least one more cop in there guarding the kid.

  Grabbing his listening device, he ran to the house, keeping his head down so that he couldn’t be seen from the windows. He stopped at the far corner, which appeared to be the garage. He didn’t want to be seen and he was closest to his SUV here, critical in case he needed to get away fast.

  He didn’t dare look in the windows, but he could hear voices just fine from where he crouched. The house wasn’t that big and his listening device was delivering their voices to his headphones as clear as a bell. Once he established that the kid was here, he’d crawl around the perimeter, listening for an indication of which room was Michael’s. Hopefully the kid would be asleep. At this point, he was done fooling around. There’d be no bringing the boy back to his house.

  He’d do a fast double tap through the window and be on his way.

  He held his breath, focusing on the voices. Two people were talking, one male and one female. The woman’s voice belonged to Dani Novak, but he didn’t recognize the man’s. It was deep and gravelly, like he’d been asleep for five years.

  ‘Classic Stone,’ the man said. ‘A non-answer to best fit his agenda.’

  ‘Which was to get me here so that I’d talk to you,’ Novak said quietly. ‘I’m sorry, Diesel. I shouldn’t have barged in here like I did.’

  Cade frowned. What kind of name is Diesel?

  ‘It’s okay,’ Diesel murmured. ‘Where are the boys? Are they all right?’

  Cade froze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where are the boys? Fuck.

  ‘The boys are fine,’ Novak said, a smile in her voice. ‘They’re at home with an entire platoon watching over them.’

  Cade ripped the headphones off, so furious that he wanted to scream. This was not a safe house. Michael Rowland was not here. He was back at Novak’s house, with seven dogs, an entire fleet of SUVs, and a fucking platoon of people.

  Motherfucking sonofabitch.

  Well, at least Cade knew for sure now. He’d go back to her house and wait for the platoon to
disperse. Surely all those people weren’t planning to stay there all night. It shouldn’t be so hard to get to one teenage kid.

  He’d pivoted in his crouch, pointing his body toward his SUV, when he heard the crack of a twig. He froze again.

  The Escalade-driving Detective Stone was fifteen feet away, staring at him. A heartbeat later the man began to run, headed right for him.

  Cade didn’t think. He just reacted, simultaneously twisting out of the detective’s path and lifting his gun to fire into the man’s broad chest, pumping a second bullet into his leg. Stone dropped like . . . well, a stone, going down to his knees.

  ‘Sonofabitch,’ the detective hissed. He tried to rise, but Cade grabbed him by the coat collar and smacked his head with the butt of his gun. Hard.

  With a groan, the big man closed his eyes, unconscious. Cade tried to drag him back to his own SUV, but the fucker was way too heavy. He got him halfway, which was about fifty yards from the house. No one inside would hear if he called for help.

  And speaking of help . . . Cade patted the man’s pocket, taking his cell phone and his car keys. He shoved the big man to his side and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Opening it, his mouth fell open. Stone had to be carrying a thousand dollars in cash. Cade grabbed the cash, tossed the wallet, and ran to his SUV.

  He passed Stone’s Escalade as he drove down the driveway. The fucker had doubled back. Well, he got what he deserved. He’d bleed out before anyone realized he was out there.

  Cade pulled over when he got to the main road. His hands were shaking. That had been too damn close. He was tempted to leave the kid alone and just run.

  But juries loved eyewitnesses. Especially orphaned eyewitnesses with inspirational disabilities. Michael Rowland had to go.

  Bridgetown, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 1.00 A.M.

  Diesel held his breath, waiting for Dani to compose herself, both dreading and anticipating what she’d have to say. But she was touching him and that had to mean something. Right?

  Her grip loosened and her fingers began a caress that made his heart beat even faster, if that was possible. She’s here. In my house. At my table. Touching me.

  She was quiet so long that he worried she wouldn’t say anything, but then she opened her eyes and met his squarely. He saw honesty, determination, and something else that he didn’t think he liked. It looked like shame.

  ‘I am not the person you think I am,’ she said quietly.

  It was not what he’d expected her to say. ‘Who do I think you are?’

  ‘Nice. Kind. A good person.’ Her jaw tightened. ‘A worthy person.’

  His first reflex was to deny her words, to insist that she was that person. But this was important. And maybe the reason she’d rejected him all these months.

  He gentled his voice as much as he could. ‘Why aren’t you that person, Dani?’

  ‘Did you know that Deacon was married once before? Before Faith?’

  Diesel frowned at the non sequitur. ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Only for a few months. Her name was Brandi. She was an addict, but she lied and told him that she was clean. He was a lot more trusting back then. I knew that she was using, but I knew that Deacon wouldn’t believe me if he didn’t see it with his own eyes.’

  ‘So you set it up so that he would? See with his own eyes, I mean.’

  She looked away. ‘I knew her dealer. We all went to the same high school.’

  ‘Wait. Deacon got married in high school? Was Brandi pregnant?’

  Her gaze shot up, horrified. ‘No. I never would have tempted her with drugs if she’d been pregnant.’ She shook her head. ‘No. It wasn’t like that. Deacon was a senior. I was a sophomore. Bruce and Mom had just died and they left us the house. But Uncle Jim said we needed to sell it. Deacon didn’t want to. He wanted to get a job after graduation and support us – Greg and me. Greg was just a baby. And . . .’ She let out a breath. ‘Jim didn’t want him. Greg, I mean. Greg doesn’t know this and Deacon and I promised we’d never tell him.’

  ‘He’ll never hear it from me,’ Diesel said. ‘Why didn’t Jim want him?’ But he thought he knew and the very notion made him angry.

  ‘You know we carry a syndrome, right?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘Waardenburg. A genetic syndrome that causes deafness and loss of pigment in hair, skin, and eyes. I looked it up right after I met you.’

  ‘To explain our family freak show,’ she muttered.

  ‘No!’ His explosive answer had her looking up at him warily, but he didn’t care, because there was nothing further from the truth. ‘I wanted to know what made you unique. You intrigued me, Dani. I couldn’t get you out of my mind.’

  Something flickered in her eyes, an emotion he couldn’t identify. He hoped it was a positive one.

  ‘Thank you. You’re in the minority. A lot of people were intrigued, but not in a good way. Jim was one of those people. He thought Mom never should have had kids, because the syndrome is hereditary. He said she got off lucky with me and Deacon because we could at least hear, even though we were freaks.’

  Diesel couldn’t control the growl that escaped his throat. ‘He said that? In front of you?’

  ‘All the time. Especially when we went to live with him after our biological dad died. Both Deacon and I had dark hair and a white streak in the front. And, of course, the eyes.’

  Diesel couldn’t help it. He reached out and skimmed his thumb across her cheeks, under her eyes. ‘Beautiful,’ he whispered fiercely.

  One side of her mouth lifted. ‘Where were you when I was a kid getting made fun of every day?’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, Mom married Bruce and we moved out of Jim and Tammy’s house. Jim told Bruce to make sure that he didn’t make any more freaks with my mom, that statistically she was due for the “mother lode of deformity”.’

  Diesel closed his eyes, needing a moment to control the absolute rage that flamed through him. ‘Your uncle is a fucking SOB.’

  ‘Yeah, he is. He was worse when Greg was born, because he had all the same issues Deacon and I did, but he was a hundred percent deaf. And then Mom and Bruce died. Jim was so angry. He said he was going to have to clean up Mom’s mistakes again.’

  Diesel realized he’d balled his hands into fists, visualizing slamming them into Jim Kimble’s face. ‘Greg is not a mistake. He’s bright and funny and he loves you.’

  That made her eyes well up. ‘I know. But thanks.’ She blinked and scrubbed the tears from her face with her sleeves. ‘Deacon was determined that Jim wouldn’t take custody of Greg. He figured if he got married, we could live in Bruce’s house and the state couldn’t take Greg away. Or the house, for that matter.’

  Diesel’s brows lifted. ‘I’m thinking that didn’t work.’

  Her laugh was bitter. ‘No. He was only seventeen. He just wanted to protect us. But he’d gotten a full ride to Miami of Ohio and I didn’t want him giving up an amazing scholarship to work a nowhere job so that we could keep the house. I tried to tell him that Brandi was bad news, that she hadn’t changed, but Deacon thought he loved her.’

  She said the last words with a sad wag of her head that made Diesel very afraid. ‘You know that love exists, though. He’s found it with Faith.’

  She met his gaze. ‘Oh, I know. That’s not why I hate what came next.’

  And herself, he’d wager. The shame he’d glimpsed earlier was now front and center. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Like I said, I knew the dealer. I cozied up to him, told him to meet me at my house after school. I figured he would and Brandi wouldn’t be able to resist. Deacon was working an after-school job, but I planned to call him home with an emergency and he’d catch her in the act.’

  ‘But that’s not what happened.’

  ‘No. I got delayed by one of my teachers, who was concerned that I hadn’t been doin
g my homework. I mean, my mother had just died. Homework wasn’t a priority. The dealer showed up at my house and he and Brandi did lines of coke before I got home. But Brandi had been using all along, and Greg got into her purse.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Diesel breathed, horrified.

  ‘It could have been so much worse, but yeah. There was just coke dust in her purse, but it was enough to nearly kill Greg. I got home just as he was seizing and called 911. The dealer ran. I’d been the one to ask him to the house, so I wasn’t in any hurry to tell the cops he’d been there. Brandi hid, and at that moment, all I cared about was Greg. Of course Jim blamed Deacon. Said that Brandi had to go. Deacon agreed, but Brandi cried and he let her stay one more day so that she could pack her things.

  ‘Deacon and I sat with Greg in the hospital all night, but I made him go home the next day to make Brandi leave. He . . .’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘He caught Brandi and her dealer in Mom and Bruce’s bed, doing lines of coke. He called the cops and Jim was on duty. Jim gave him so much shit that day. Said that Deacon wasn’t capable of taking care of Greg. That he was a danger to Greg.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I got what I wanted. Deacon gave up fighting for custody and agreed to sell the house. He went off to college and Greg and I moved in with Jim.’

  ‘And you took care of Greg. How old were you, Dani?’

  ‘Sixteen.’

  ‘Greg getting hurt wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Deacon’s either. It was Brandi’s fault. She was unconscionably careless. She could have put the baby in his crib, but she didn’t, did she? She left him to crawl around and get into her purse.’

  ‘I didn’t feel guilty about Greg,’ she said, but he couldn’t believe her. He wondered if she even believed herself. ‘But I never told Deacon the truth. I let him think he was at fault all this time.’