Past Crimes (Alexis Parker Book 20)

by G. K. Parks

  “I don’t like it. We know someone is outside guarding it. He came in when we made a noise. If we try to go out, he’ll notice.”

  “Does it matter?” Cross asked. “We don’t know what the terrain looks like on either side. We’ll be just as exposed and in close proximity to the enemy no matter what door we use. At least we know that opens.”

  “Does it?” I moved to the other end, but there was no way to see outside. Raising the riveting tool in preparation to strike, I reached out and gently tried the handle, but the door didn’t budge. “We’re locked in.”

  “Guess we’ll just have to lure him inside.”

  Before I could protest, Cross banged his wrench against the aluminum wall, leaving a dent and making the entire hangar rattle.

  Forty

  The door pulled out, and the man with the hood stood just out of striking distance with a gun in his hand. He aimed it at me. “Back up,” he ordered. From the way his finger tensed over the trigger, he meant business.

  “Take it easy,” I said. “What do you want from us?” Edging backward, I moved to the side and placed the riveting tool down on the table.

  “I don’t want anything from you. This is about him.” The man entered the hangar, leaving the door open.

  I made myself as small and unintimidating as possible. If he didn’t see me as a threat, we’d have a chance. “Please don’t hurt me.” I knelt on the floor at the end of the table, taking cover behind it. I had to find a way to edge around and get behind the guy. If Cross had just waited instead of being so impetuous, we could have come up with a reasonable plan.

  “I can’t guarantee that.” He snickered, turning his attention to Cross who stood a few feet away. “Hi, Lucien. How’s tricks?”

  Cross stiffened, the large wrench hanging by his side. “You’ve got to be shitting me. You’re supposed to be dead.”

  The man laughed. “You’re right. This is the afterlife. Welcome to hell.”

  Cross took a step forward, and the man aimed right at his chest. “If I’m already dead, you can’t hurt me,” Cross said.

  “I forgot how stubborn and self-righteous you are.” The man gestured at the wrench. “Drop that, unless you want to see what the next life is really like.”

  Cross let the wrench clatter to the floor. “What do you want? I told you never to come back here, Trey.”

  “I wanted my ring. I asked you to bring it to me, but you refused. You left me no choice.”

  While the men spoke, I searched for another cover position, but I didn’t see any. The table was too heavy to move, but if I could get underneath it, I might be able to edge closer without the man noticing. Cross called the man Trey, but Trey Knox was dead. DNA proved it. How was he standing here, holding us at gunpoint?

  “What are you going to do now?” Cross asked.

  Knox laughed. “Well, I’m going to kill you and your friend. I’m thinking burying you in an empty field’s a good plan. That should suffice for the next eight years or so. But the police might keep looking for your bodies, so I’m thinking of staging something spectacular.” He reached behind his back and pulled out my gun. “I can shoot her with this gun,” he said, indicating the one in his right, “and then shoot you with this one.” He raised the one in his left. “The cops will think you shot her because she found something juicy on you, something irrefutable that would put you behind bars for the rest of your life. But she manages to shoot you in the process. It’s a murder-murder thing. But I’m not sure if anyone will buy it. What do you think?”

  “I see you’re still a delusional, self-aggrandized prick,” Cross said.

  Knox tucked my gun behind his back. “The only other option is a murder-suicide. Do you think that’s more believable?” Knox used his free hand to scratch his eyebrow. “I pop you both and put the gun in your hand. That should paint enough of a story, right?”

  “That won’t explain my Porsche,” Cross said.

  Knox nodded a few times. “You’re right. I guess I’ll just put you in the ground and not worry about the rest. Like you said, I’m dead. No one’s going to look for me because a dead man can’t be a killer. Plus, a friend of mine is supposed to be meeting me here soon. We’re going to Mexico.”

  Apparently, Knox didn’t know Campos was dead, and I wasn’t about to tell him.

  “What happened to you?” Cross asked. “The last time I saw you, you were a sniveling, fraidy cat. When did your balls finally descend?”

  “Funny story, really. Things went downhill pretty fast on the island, so I came back home to get my ring and figure some things out. Since most of the police force had lost interest in finding me, I used an alias to set up a safe house, so I could resume doing business in the city. The best sports conventions are always here. I didn’t want to miss those. You’ll be happy to know I’ve attended every single one. But I digress.” Knox grinned. “Anyway, one of my problems followed me back to the states. A client of mine broke in to my apartment wanting revenge. By some miracle, he tripped over one of my moving boxes. His gun slid right to me. I picked it up, shot him, and kept shooting until he went down.” Knox’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know how many it took, but it seemed like a lot. Then I asked myself what would Lucien do, and I did that.” He chuckled. “Hiring you actually came in handy. I really should have paid you.”

  While Knox reminisced, I slid beneath the table, hoping he’d stay lost in his story. Cross spotted me crawling toward Knox and moved to his left, forcing Knox to angle himself away from me. The table would end in another two feet. Then I had to clear a ten foot expanse before he could turn and shoot me. Still, I didn’t see any other alternative. Keep him talking, I thought, hoping Cross could read my mind.

  “Who was the dead guy? Your twin? His DNA matched yours. The police ran it based off your hairbrush. Hell, I ran a comparison to your toothbrush. How did you fake that?” Cross asked.

  Knox laughed. “I’m brilliant. I had to be to pull everything off. And I got away with it, just like I got away with cultivating my business right under a Russian kingpin’s nose. I’m not a moron, even though you treated me like one. Damn, I’ve missed you. I forgot how much fun you are. You really fell for my act. I’m not some pathetic bastard, Lucien. I’m a certified genius.”

  Narcissistic asshole would be more accurate, I thought.

  “Come on, tell me. How’d you pull it off?” Cross asked. Since Knox wanted to talk, it wasn’t hard to keep him going. I just didn’t know if it’d be enough of a distraction.

  “When I wasn’t sure you’d be able to solve my Russian problem, I decided to stage my death and move on. Except, that’s hard to do without a body. One of my clients had some experience with such things and offered up a bag of blood and the toiletries to match. He promised me he had the same blood type, so the authorities would be convinced it was my DNA. They had no reason to doubt it. I packed up my stuff, scrubbed my house from top to bottom, and replaced it with his stuff.”

  “But the DNA in your house matched the body.”

  “I’m getting to that,” Knox said. “Don’t be so impatient. It’s been eight years. Let’s have a little foreplay before we get down and dirty, all right?”

  Cross grunted, his knuckles turning white. If I didn’t make a move soon, he’d run at Knox and get blown away in the process.

  “The client who helped me fake my death was the same one who helped me set up shop in Vanuatu. But we had a falling out after I arrived. He thought I owed him and should only work for him. But I didn’t go through all that trouble just to become someone else’s bitch. That’s how Vasili treated me, and I wasn’t going to do that again. Lesson learned.”

  “So you fled, again,” Cross said. “I always knew you’d screw someone else over and they’d try to kill you.”

  “The joke’s on him. He’s the problem that followed me back to the states and to the apartment I rented, and that’s when I realized I could solve my own problems. After that, I didn’t worry so much about my
enemies. Since I was believed to be dead, I could function without worry. My DNA and prints weren’t in the system. And my enemies thought I was long gone. I had saved enough money over the years, so I could be picky about clients. I even got someone to help me out with protection.”

  “Officer Gallo,” Cross said. “You bought a cop.”

  “Well, he kept snooping around. One day, he recognized me. He wanted to bring me in, but I told him I needed protection, that the Russians were still after me, and gave him a cut in order to keep an eye out for me. It was cute. He thought he was filling in for you. I didn’t realize you had groupies.”

  “Gallo knows you’re alive?” Cross asked.

  “He thinks I’m in witness protection or some privately created version of it. He might even think you created it.”

  “He bought that?”

  “For enough money, people will believe anything you tell them.” Knox smiled, satisfied to share his triumph. “Anyway, it was nice catching up with you.”

  The story was over. I had to make my move now. Knox had realized he hadn’t been paying enough attention to me and turned just as I broke from cover. He aimed, firing two shots while I ran straight for him. The bullets ripped past me, missing by mere millimeters. I swung the riveting tool at him. It connected with his shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

  I pulled the tool backward, prepared to swing again, when Knox rolled over, kicking off the floor and sliding on his back to put some distance between us, while firing. I dove to the side, dropping my weapon in my haste.

  Cross tried to tackle the already downed Knox, but due to his injuries, Knox tossed him aside. “Run,” Cross yelled, tripping as he got his feet beneath him. “I’m right behind you.”

  Knox was outnumbered, but he had guns. We didn’t, so I ran for the door with Cross at my heels. We made it through as three more shots echoed. One hit the doorframe just to the right of my head. The other ricocheted off the frame above us, and the third sailed past.

  Cross shoved me to the side, just as we made it out the door. He’d been right. We were at a private airfield. The surrounding area was completely empty except for the tall fence lining the perimeter. The chain-link was too high to climb. We’d have to circle around the front.

  “This way,” I said, pointing as I ran around the side. But when we reached the front, we found the gate had been locked.

  Knox rounded the corner, firing shot after shot in our direction. Cross and I split up, running in opposite directions. Knox cursed, ejecting the clip and shoving another one inside. Cross must have had an extra clip. I didn’t since I wasn’t expecting trouble. For once, it was good I hadn’t been prepared.

  A thought came to mind as I scrambled to find a defensible position. What happened to Knox’s taser?

  Bullets rang out, and I continued running around the hangar. Parked on the far side, I found Knox’s car—a white sedan. The bullet struck the window, knocking a few shards of glass backward from the force of the impact. Shielding my eyes, I continued to run, the bullets getting closer and closer.

  Sliding across the hood, I landed and rolled on the opposite side. I gasped, hoping to catch my breath. Where was Lucien? Did Knox shoot him?

  I moved along the car, toward the back, and peered around the trunk. Cross was down. From here, I couldn’t tell the extent of his injuries, but since Knox didn’t seem concerned with him, I assumed the worst. No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare.

  “Come out, come out, where ever you are,” Knox sang out.

  Every cell in my body wanted to charge him, knock him to the ground, and rip him to shreds. But from my count, he had several more bullets in that gun. I’d be dead before I cleared the car. I had to come up with a better plan. I needed a weapon.

  Deciding to risk it, I moved to the middle of the car and sat up on my haunches, peering inside. Another two shots rang out. Immediately, I dropped down and rolled beneath the car. Knox, came around the front, and I rolled out from beneath the car and tugged on the door handle while he searched the other side for me. The front door opened, and I grabbed the taser off the seat.

  He spun, firing through the passenger side window. The sting cut through my arm. I didn’t know if it was glass or a bullet. Frankly, it didn’t matter. I slid beneath the car again, my belt snagging on the undercarriage, but I stretched my hand out as far as I could and pressed the button.

  The taser didn’t have much juice left in it, but the staticky click sounded, and Knox crashed to the ground. Backing out from beneath the car, I went around and gave him another jolt, pressing the button until the taser was dead. Knox lay on the ground, limp.

  Where was the gun? I couldn’t find it. Searching his pockets, I found a cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 while I ran to Lucien.

  I gave the 9-1-1 operator all the information I had, hoping she’d be able to determine our location. Only one private airfield was close to KC’s. We had to be there. It was the only logical choice.

  “Lucien?” His shirt was damp. There wasn’t enough light to see if it was blood. But what else could it be? “Cross, wake up.” I rolled him over. “Come on, open your eyes. Don’t be a pain in my ass.”

  A wet stain had formed along his side. He’d been shot. Before I could check his pulse, he jerked upright, grabbing for my throat.

  “It’s me,” I choked out.

  He shook himself, releasing his hold on my neck. “Where is he?” He frantically searched the surrounding field, his breath coming in ragged gasps that matched my own.

  “He’s down.”

  “Down? Not dead?” Cross got onto his hands and knees and hoisted himself off the dewy grass. Clutching his side, he and I headed back to the car. But Knox was gone. Bending over, Cross picked up the gun that had fallen behind the front tire. He checked the clip. Two shots left. “Alex.” He wobbled, and I grabbed for him, hoping to steady him, but it was too late. I did my best to slow his descent as he crashed to the ground.

  That’s when I felt the barrel of a gun press into the back of my head. “This one’s fully loaded,” Knox said.

  “Lucien,” I whispered, “I could use some help.” He’d collapsed on top of the gun. I’d never get it before Knox wasted us both. Biting my lip, I thought about Martin. “You can run,” I said, swallowing my fear. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. The police pulled over a drug dealer in a white sedan. They think that’s who did this. But you have to go now. The police are on the way. They’ll see your car. If you kill us, they’ll keep hunting you. You should escape while you still can.”

  “That puts a chink in my plans. I’m tired of running. I don’t have the resources left to run.”

  “I have your ledger. Your accounts. I can get it all back to you, even your championship ring collection. I’ll take you to it, but we have to go now.”

  “Can you do that?” Knox asked.

  “I’m a consultant. I have access to everything.”

  The barrel of the gun no longer pressed into my skull, and I cautioned a glance over my shoulder. Knox had stepped back far enough so I couldn’t take the gun from him. He wasn’t a helpless idiot, but he was no genius either. “Tell me where everything is, or I’ll kill you.” He steadied the gun in both hands.

  “The ledger? Or your rings?” I asked, hoping to buy time.

  “Both.”

  “Right, but which one do you want to know about first. They’re in different places.”

  “Let’s start with my rings.”

  Everyone had said this guy had a skewed sense of his priorities. On autopilot, I launched into a long-winded lie, wondering how long it’d take for the authorities to arrive. They had to be ten minutes out. And since we were on one of the smaller runways at the private airfield, it’d take them longer to find us. Knox would surely hear the sirens and see the lights before they got close enough to take him out. So I couldn’t wait for help to arrive.

  “And the ledger?” he asked. “I need access to my accounts. Didn’t the p
olice freeze them?”

  “No, and they won’t. Once they determine what’s what, they’ll relinquish everything to Emily, your half-sister.”

  “Emily? What does she have to do with any of this?”

  “She’s living in your house, the one where you allegedly died. She has all your things. Well, everything you didn’t take with you. If you pay her a visit, I’m sure she’d give it all back.”

  Knox stared at me for the longest time. Then he laughed. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  It was now or never. “No.” I lunged forward.

  The gunshot deafened me as I collided with him, the force knocking both of us to the ground. Blood coated my shirt, hot and sticky. Yanking the gun in his hand up and away from us, it went off again. He kicked me in the stomach, knocking me off of him. Then a third shot rang out.

  I gasped, hoping to get my lungs working, as I stared into the dark night sky.

  Forty-one

  Cross pulled himself to his feet, tossing the empty gun to the ground. He kicked the gun out of Knox’s hand, almost collapsing in the process. “You son of a bitch.” He sneered at him.

  After several failed attempts to breathe, my lungs filled. Yanking up my shirt, I felt around my chest, but I hadn’t been shot. The bruises on my back and sternum had made me think otherwise. So who fired the shots?

  Cross teetered, and I slipped beneath his arm before he could fall. Unlike me, he’d been hit at least once. In the dark, I couldn’t tell how many more bullet wounds he sustained, but he remained upright, leaning against the car for support as police cars and an ambulance arrived. The adrenaline would keep him going for a few more minutes.

  Picking up the gun, I found it empty. “You killed Knox,” I said. “Do you think the police are going to charge you again?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them.” He swayed, just as police cleared the area and allowed the paramedics to enter. “Why did you call 9-1-1? Our mobile medical unit is better equipped.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.