Текст книги "Surviving Ice "

Автор книги: K. A. Tucker

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

FORTY-THREE

IVY

“Yeah. That’s the scar.”

“You sure?” Detective Fields hovers over my shoulder, his musky cologne the only appealing thing in this place. I was on edge the moment I stepped into the precinct, part of me anxious to turn around and run out, the other part excited to finally nail someone to the wall for what they did to Ned.

“I’m positive.” Now that it’s come back to me, I remember it well. I even drew a sketch of it that I hold up next to the computer monitor. The guy’s hand is blown up and, though pixelated, I can still see the shape of it clearly.

“They’re identical,” he agrees. “That’s . . . crazy how accurate that is.”

“Are we done here?” I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this long-drawn-out process to get to this place. Still, I feel lighter than when I stepped in here. I was afraid that Sebastian was right, and nothing would come of this. That Ned’s killers are long gone.

“For now. We’ll put APBs out on these guys and bring them in for a lineup. You’ll need to come back in to positively ID them.”

“You have my number.” I collect my purse and stand to leave. “How’d you find them¸ anyway?”

Fields thumps a handful of folders against his desk to tidy the papers tucked inside. “While I had some of my guys looking into our main angle with the bikers, I thought I’d check out some less likely ones. Just to close the loop. That’s what I like to do. So I started looking into Dylan Royce as the potential prime target instead of your uncle. He was an ex-Marine with an impressive record and the know-how to defend himself. I figured whoever took him out had to know what they were doing, gun or not. Made me think that they knew each other, so I started digging into his Marine Corps buddies.”

“These two guys were Marines?” An unsettling feeling begins to stir within me. There has been an unusual influx of military guys in my life lately. One in particular.

“Ex. Now they’re working for a private security company.”

A private security company.

Like Sebastian.

“I’ve already told you more than I should. Keep it to yourself, okay?” He leads me down the hall, toward the main entrance, files tucked under his arm. “How are repairs going at your house, anyway?”

“Almost ready for paint,” I answer, though I’m not really listening anymore, my mind racing. You’re not stupid, Ivy.

Sebastian walking into your shop wasn’t a coincidence, Ivy.

I don’t want to listen to my conscience, but I can’t seem to drown it out anymore, either.

Be smart, Ivy. He’s not really a bodyguard, is he . . .

Fields’s voice finally overpowers my dark worries. “. . . I know this is a bit of a shock to your system. Do you have someone picking you up?”

“My . . .” What is he? “. . . Friend. You know him.”

He scans the case folder still tucked under his arm. “Gregory. Or Greg? Yeah.”

What? “No. Sebastian.”

He frowns. “Then, no. Don’t know him. I only met the guy at the house the night of the robbery. Anyway, let me know if you need anything, and keep your phone close to you because I’m going to call as soon as we’ve picked up these guys,” he throws over his shoulder, already on his way back to work.

He leaves me standing inside the front doors.

Sebastian gave the cops a fake name. Or is Sebastian the fake name?

No, his parents called him Sebastian.

I shake my head. I think I’ve reached my limit with that guy for today. The last thing I want to do is see him right now. Let him run his errands. He can come find me and explain shit when he’s done. And if he doesn’t want to explain?

I’m done.

Even as I tell myself that, I know I’m lying. All he has to do is tell me the truth and I’ll accept it, I’m sure of it.

But I am going to make him work for it. At least a bit.

I push through the glass doors, intent on defying Sebastian and hailing a cab to Black Rabbit. I’m almost at the sidewalk before I see Bobby’s hairy face. My feet falter. “What are you doing here?” Besides Sebastian, he’s the last person I want to talk to right now, given how I saw—and heard—way too much of him only hours ago.

“I need you to come with me.”

“What?” I snort. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He heaves a sigh, like he was expecting this. “Your guy asked me to come get you.”

Okay, now I know he’s full of shit. “No, he didn’t. He doesn’t trust you.”

“Well, I guess he trusts me enough right now.”

I grab my phone and quickly hit Dial on Sebastian’s number. It goes to automated voice mail. I can’t even leave a message. It’s been turned off.

What the hell is going on? Sebastian expected me to call when I was finished so he could pick me up, so why is his phone now off? Did these guys do something to him? Did they finally get even for him embarrassing them so badly?

Bobby’s heavy boots scrape against the concrete as he closes the distance. All calm, like he’s approaching a wild animal, and an edge of unease settles in. I glance around. A few people mill about. There are security cameras in front of the precinct, pointing down this way. Are they too far?

“Don’t make this hard, Ivy.” Bobby reaches out and grabs my puny biceps. I can’t break free.

He opens the door to the pickup truck. Carl’s behind the wheel.

“I’m going to scream.” This is an obvious abduction. Why is no one doing anything?

Bobby’s hand slaps over my mouth in answer, and then his large arm ropes around me, pinning my arms down. I squirm and kick, and sink my teeth into his fingers, but it’s to no avail. In no time I’m lifted and stuffed into the middle of the truck. Bobby slams the door shut, and the truck is roaring to life and heading down the street.

“Did you have to bite me? Fuck!” Bobby yells. “I’m bleeding!”

I open my mouth to let out an ear-piercing scream, when a familiar gruff voice from behind steals my breath.

“Ivy, Jesus! We’re not going to hurt you!” Moe sits in the extended cab. He reaches over the seat to cuff Bobby in the head. “What the hell did you say to her?”

“Nothin’! I told you she was gonna be a pain in the ass.” To me, he demands, “Gimme your phone.”

“No.”

He snatches my purse out of my hand and roots around until he’s found it. Rolling down the window, he tosses it out.

“Why the hell did you do that?” I yell.

“So no one can find you.”

My stomach does a complete flip.

“Oh, relax. Here.” He opens a basic flip phone and, pressing Redial, hands it to me.

Sebastian answers on the third ring.

“What is going on?” I can hear an engine in the background. He must be on the road.

“You’re with Bobby? Everything okay?”

I look at Bobby’s hand, at the marks sunk into his fingers. The sensation of biting into his soft flesh is still fresh on my teeth, making my mouth water in disgust. “Yes.”

“Did you ID the guys?”

Do I want to tell him that? Do I trust him? I don’t know.

“Ivy,” he barks. “It’s important that I know. Did you ID them?”

“Yes. They were two ex-Marines that knew Ned’s client.” How the hell is Ned involved with this? Was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did his gambling debt have anything to do with this after all? There are still far too many unanswered questions.

But I’m focused on one in particular for now. “Who’s Gregory White?”

“An alias.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“Why do you have an alias?”

“I’ll explain later. Stay with Bobby. He’ll take care of you.”

“Fine. But when this is over, you’re telling me everything, and I’m not asking.”

“Okay, Ivy.” There’s resignation in his voice.

The phone goes dead. I close it and hand it back to Bobby, who is shooting daggers at me, a ball of tissue in his fist. “Ned always said you were as fucking stubborn as a mule.”

“Stop sulking.”

I eye the giant metal warehouselike building ahead and the chain-link fence surrounding the property. The rows of motorcycles along the far side mark this place for what it is. “Seriously?” It took almost an hour to get to their clubhouse, in a remote neighborhood south of San Francisco. They haven’t told me a goddamn thing. Bobby swears he doesn’t know anything.

I think he’s a big fat fucking liar.

“It’s safe here. Fences, security . . .” Bobby says, pointing out the cameras in the corners.

“To keep the bad guys in?”

He chuckles, like that’s so funny.

A woman’s giggle carries across the parking lot. Probably a hooker. Ned said these guys throw some wild parties. Though tonight it seems pretty quiet.

I spot my kit in Carl’s hand and dive to snatch it out of his grip. “Why do you have this?”

“It was at Dakota’s. I swung by to pick it up,” Bobby answers with a smile.

“Why?” I already know exactly why.

Moe steps in behind me, settling a hand on my back. I bristle and speed up to walk ahead of him. “Oh, don’t be like that with me, girl. Slow down!”

I don’t, pushing my way through the solid front doors. The inside of their clubhouse is much more lively than the outside. I count eighteen members sitting around in the makeshift living room/bar, some looking every bit the stereotypical biker with their leather vests and beards, others looking like normal young guys in faded T-shirts and ripped jeans. Open beer bottles are scattered throughout, and the buzz of a radio playing old rock carries through the air. Three scantily clad women float around, cackling at whatever the men are saying.

A few at a time, heads turn at our entrance, and I feel them sizing me up. I don’t recognize any of them, but Ned did say this club had over two hundred members.

I wonder how many of them are truly “just bikers.” They can’t all be into the kinds of things that Bobby, Moe, and the others have their hands in.

“How long am I stuck here for?” I ask Moe. I’ve cycled through panic and anger and have settled into exhaustion. I just want to go home.

“Until Bobby hears otherwise,” Moe murmurs, leaving us to chat with the other guys.

“And until then, he promised me you’d do a shoulder piece I was thinking about gettin’ done, seeing as he owes me for this and we have time to kill.”

“You want me to give you a tattoo now?” I grit my teeth in a smile that can’t be pleasant. “Sure, I’ll do that for you.”

Doubt flickers over his face. “Maybe we’ll wait until you’ve cooled off a bit.”

“Probably a good idea.” Taking a deep breath, I march farther into the clubhouse, putting on my best tough-girl gaze, even though inside I’m feeling anything but.

FORTY-FOUR

SEBASTIAN

“How long ago did the APBs go out?” I speed past a slow driver.

“A good hour,” Bobby says.

I knew these guys would have someone in the SFPD in their pockets. “She’s safe?”

“Yep. Mad as a snake, but nothing we can’t handle,” Bobby promises. “What are you up to?”

“This and that.”

“Right. Well, if you can get ‘this and that’ done before she bites me again, that’d be great.”

Despite everything, I smile. “Thanks, man.” It’s been a long time since I’ve relied on anyone but myself, and here I am relying on a bunch of criminals. “Just . . . take care of her.” I hang up and toss the phone into the console in time to pull up to my parents’ house.

And take a deep breath. I had a feeling I’d be visiting again, sooner rather than later.

My dad answers the door with a frown. “Twice in two days.”

“I know.” I lock eyes with him, swallowing my fear that he’ll say he won’t help me. Besides Ivy, he’s the only one I trust. “I need your help and I don’t have a lot of time to explain.”

He looks over his shoulder and then steps out, shutting the door behind him.

I pull a phone and a slip of paper out of my pocket. “There is a sensitive video on this phone that I want you to have a copy of. Don’t watch it. And on the paper is the information for a safety-deposit box in Zurich. It has you marked as next of kin, should anything ever happen to me.” I hand it to him. “I need you to make sure these two things are safe. And use the contents, if something happens to me.”

His frown turns to understanding. “I don’t want to know what this is about, do I?” His voice has taken on that stern, no-nonsense tone that has given me both comfort and fear all my life.

I shake my head. “Not unless you don’t hear back from me.”

He nods and, with a moment’s hesitation, adds, “Be safe.”

“I will be,” I promise, though I can’t be sure that my next stop won’t guarantee a bullet in my head.

“You found me.” Bentley fingers a vine, empty of fruit and ready for winter’s slumber. “I didn’t expect you here so soon.”

“Your wife gave me directions.” With a smile and a bat of her eyelashes, all while the cold metal of my gun pressed against my back and I considered using her as leverage.

Bentley doesn’t seem at all concerned by my presence. He doesn’t seem intent on anything but the grapes, and the western skies, where the sun is slow to set. “There’s something therapeutic about this place after it’s been harvested. Have you ever seen grapevines in the winter?”

“No. Not that I’ve noticed, anyway.”

“Well, I guess they’re like any plant. They look dead, incapable of ever coming back to life. Of ever producing anything again. And yet they do, year after year, as long as you protect their roots.”

It seems like such a casual conversation. If I weren’t on edge, I might enjoy it.

But I don’t have time to waste here. “Why’d you lie to me?”

He pauses, a dried leaf against his palm. “What was I going to tell you? That I lost control of some of my operatives? That the last boy scout was going to sink Alliance because of it?” He sounds defeated.

“So you did know what was going on over there. What Scalero was doing.”

His silence answers me.

“When did it become about money, John? Don’t you have enough of that?”

“It’s not about the money!” he fires back, his anger flaring. Finally. But he tempers it just as quickly. “You know as well as I do what happens to human instincts when they’ve succumbed to that world over there. To that kind of life.”

“No, not everyone loses themselves like that.” We all lose something, but basic decency . . . no. Not most of us, anyway. I’d love to say that all the stories of soldiers going off course are wrong, but that would be a lie.

Some people would say that I went off course long ago.

“If you knew what was going on, why didn’t you stop it?”

He sighs. “I didn’t know until it was too late.”

“Bullshit.”

Weary eyes settle on me. Bentley looks like he’s aged years since I saw him last. “Believe what you want, but it’s true. Alliance has grown beyond anything I ever expected,” he admits. “It’s beyond anything I want. I’ve been in talks with investors for over a year now. People who want to buy me out and take over. They have all kinds of ideas for running internal affairs and managing people. They’ll be good for the company’s future. Talks stalled for a while during the investigation into the civilian shooting in Kandahar, but they’re back on now, and people are ready to sign. Had that videotape surfaced, everything would have fallen apart.”

“So it is about the money.”

“To the investors, it’s all about the money. If they can’t get contracts, there’s no point buying Alliance. They want the expertise and connections I’ve established. The good parts. There are a lot of good parts, still, Sebastian. You are a good part.”

“I’m not a part of Alliance.”

He smiles. “No, you’re not. You could be, though.”

He’s trying to offer me an olive branch. I don’t want it. “You used me. Lied right to my face. You and I, we don’t do that to each other.”

“You would never have agreed to this assignment otherwise. I needed that videotape and you’re the best at what you do. You always have been. Even now, when I’m guessing you’re about to fuck me over.” Bentley reaches into his pocket and I immediately move to grab my gun. He pulls out a loose cigarette and lighter, his hands raised as if to prove his innocence. “So, what’s your plan here, exactly?”

“You know about the APBs on Scalero and Porter.”

He nods, the end of his cigarette burning brighter with his inhale.

“Your guys are about to get nailed for murder, with a witness.”

“With no line of sight on the actual murder.”

“So you’re saying you don’t consider her to be a threat?”

He exhales, smoke sailing out his nostrils and into the crisp air. “I didn’t say that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

His lips purse. “I never thought a woman would be the death of our friendship.”

“She isn’t. But you lying to me is.” I’m not used to being in this position with Bentley—the one in control of the situation. That’s what I feel like I finally have here—control of this fucking disastrous situation. “Are they after her yet?” Now would be the ideal time to make Ivy disappear, before she’s able to listen to Scalero’s deep midwestern accent or see the burn scar covering the back of his hand, or study Porter’s profile, and confirm on a recorded lineup that, yes, these are the two men who killed a Medal of Honor veteran and her uncle. Once that official statement is made, getting rid of her won’t help them any.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“How would that look, the witness turning up dead hours after an APB goes out? Give me some credit.” He pauses to take another drag. “They’re in a secure location for the moment.”

“They need to answer for what they’ve done, Bentley. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. That’s why I called you the other day, but you refused to take the assignment and hung up on me.”

Scalero and Porter were my next assignment? “You mean I was going to be tasked with getting rid of those two so your ass is covered completely?” I chuckle, though none of this is funny. He must take me for an idiot.

He turns to meet my eyes, his hard and gray. “And what exactly is your plan, then, coming here? Is it any different?”

When I don’t answer—because getting rid of those two is exactly my plan—he continues. “Despite what you think, I don’t want anything to happen to you. I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for you. And you and I have saved tens of thousands of lives together. Maybe more. What I have built here? Fuck the media. Alliance is a powerful organization that does incredible things. Yes, I make a lot of money because of it. Yes, there are . . . hiccups . . . Bad seeds, like those two. But I won’t let them tear down my legacy to this country. I need Scalero and Porter dealt with before they can hurt anyone else. I wish I’d figured that out sooner. Save everyone a headache.”

“They do need to go. But they also need to answer for what they’ve done.”

I reach for my phone and Bentley’s eyes widen in a flash of panic. Holding the screen out for him, I press Play on the video. Royce’s voice breaks into the quiet peace of the vineyard, and understanding fills Bentley’s eyes.

“I made copies of the video. Several. You’ll never track them all down before they’re released, I can promise you that.” In this case, I’m bluffing. My dad has the only copy, and I’m sure he went straight to the bank to secure it in his safety-deposit box. “So if you’re lying to me and they’re out there looking for Ivy, you might want to stop them now.”

He doesn’t make a move for his phone. “What exactly do you want from me?”

“You’re going to tell me where Mario Scalero and Ricky Porter are right now.”

“There’s no need for the theatrics.” He gestures to the ended video. “We want the same thing.”

I don’t think he understands, exactly. But he will.

“Give me their location, and I’ll do the right thing.”

He sighs. “And then?”

“And then I’m going to walk away, and this arrangement of ours is over.” I can’t do this and live a normal life. “You’re going to forget about me, you’re going to forget about Ivy, and everyone wins.”

“It’s not that simple, Sebastian.”

“It is. Because if you don’t, and if for some reason something should happen to either Ivy or me, then everything I’ve done for you over the past five years will fall into big hands. Names, dates, locations, purposes. Everything.” While I may not have listened to my father’s warning when Bentley first invited me to work for him, I did hear it. And it ate at me, an insipid voice that grew louder and louder, until I couldn’t completely ignore it. And so I began documenting critical details, figuring that if something ever happened to me, my father could see firsthand that I was doing good, that his disappointing son was making a difference, was saving lives. Maybe he would finally approve of me.

Never did I think I’d be using that information as leverage against Bentley, and yet here I am, doing exactly that.

Bentley’s eyes narrow. He thinks I’ve betrayed him. He’s right, but I don’t really have a choice.

“As long as nothing happens to either of us, that information will never see the light of day,” I promise.

“How can I believe—”

“Because unlike you, I can be trusted.”

Bentley chews the inside of his mouth. He’s always been good at knowing when he’s cornered, with no way out. It rarely happens. “I’m not going to walk away from this unscathed, am I?”

“No. But you’ll walk away because you finally did the right thing.” I meet his gaze. “Where are they?”

He grits his teeth.