The Scorpion, page 23
“But—”
“Marty, I’ll be fine. You’ve got to trust me.”
“I do trust you. It’s Marsh I don’t trust.”
Kris glanced at her watch and Marty did the same. It was nearly nine. She killed the lights and parked along the curb. “It’s around the corner, on the other side, but I don’t want you too close.”
“Kris—”
“Don’t argue with me. There’s no time. Put your headset on. Lock the doors. Keep the engine running.” Kris put the microphone clip on her watch. “Again, I’ll be fine. But if anything happens, you call Rico.”
“I know the drill.” She didn’t like the drill, but she knew it. She plugged her headset into her laptop, preparing to record the conversation. Kris’s fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she turned, meeting Kris’s eyes in the darkness.
“It’ll be fine,” she said again.
Marty nodded. “Okay.” What else could she say? She didn’t for a minute think it would be fine.
With another light squeeze of her fingers, Kris let go, slipping quietly from the car. Marty watched her go, jogging off into the park.
“Testing. You copy?”
“Yes, loud and clear,” Marty said. She maneuvered across the console, getting behind the wheel. She locked the doors as she had been told to do, then waited, hearing nothing but Kris’s breathing as she went to meet Marsh.
* * *
Bailey hid in the trees just outside of the tropical garden. Spring classes had already ended so there wasn’t much foot traffic in the garden, especially at this hour. She spotted only a handful of people milling about. She finally saw Marsh, coming from the opposite direction. He paused near the fountain, looking around, then continuing forward. She stayed in the shadows, watching
him.
“That’s far enough, Lieutenant.”
He stopped. “Bailey?”
“I’m here,” she said, staying behind the foliage. “Let me see your hands.”
“Good grief, Bailey, you think I’m going to shoot you?”
“I’ve been shot at El Pirata del Parque. The back window of my car was shot out in an alleged carjacking. And there was the ambush in Gulfport. So yeah, I think you might shoot me.”
“Look, I was told to warn you and the reporter off. It didn’t work.”
“So you tried to have her killed at Captain Diaz’s beach house?”
“Again, not my call.”
“So when that failed, what?”
“Nothing. She left town. All was well. But you kept asking questions, nosing around. He wanted you out of the picture. Both of you.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know. I get phone calls. The voice is distorted. Sounds like a computer voice.”
“And you just follow instructions without question? For what? Money?”
“Look, I’ve been on the force a long time. I know what goes down, what’s been going down for years. He always picks someone to be the contact. You don’t want to be that person, trust me.”
“Why go along with it?”
“Why the hell do you think, Bailey? I’ve got a wife. I have kids. I used to have a dog. That was the warning. He killed our dog, then sent pictures of my kids that he’d taken while they were walking home from school. He sent pictures of my wife while she was out shopping.” He raised his hands. “I have no doubt he’d kill them. I’ve been around, Bailey. I’ve been called to the scene where a cop’s been shot. And there’s always a goddamn scorpion with him. If he’d kill a cop, he sure as hell would kill my kids, my wife.”
“Then why hasn’t someone put a stop to it? Christ, Marsh, you’re a goddamn police officer. You run a corrupt office because you’re threatened? Have investigators come in. Clean house.”
“Yeah. Captain Diaz tried that very thing. He’d had enough. He told the voice on the phone as much, told him he was going to the authorities. And when he got home, he found his wife butchered. And the voice called again.”
“Jesus,” Bailey whispered.
“Diaz was worthless after that. He couldn’t function. Now the voice calls me. We all know what happened. And we all know it could happen to us.”
“Who the fuck is he?”
“I don’t know. But he watches us. He knows everything.”
“The phones are bugged?” Bailey guessed.
“Not the phones, no. But he must have someone on the inside.”
“This has got to stop, Marsh. It’s got to stop right now.”
“I told you, he’ll kill my family. I can’t do anything.”
“Well, I can.”
“How? He’s a ghost.”
“No. He just wants you to think he’s a ghost.” Bailey stepped out of the shadows. “How does it work? When does he call you?”
“Bailey, I can’t. I shouldn’t even be here talking to you. I just wanted to warn you. He’ll find you. You’re targeted. You’ve got his money, and you killed one of his men.”
“I shot him in self defense.” She smiled. “But yeah, I took the money. Now tell me what goes down? He calls you. Then what? He has a job for you?”
“I can’t.” He backed up. “I can’t tell you anything. I—”
But his words died as he fell to the ground, the unmistakable sound of a sniper rifle putting an end to anything he might have said.
“Oh, my God, no,” she said, ducking back behind cover.
“What’s going on?” Marty said urgently in her ear.
Marsh clutched his belly, the blood oozing through his fingers. Bailey was indecisive. Her police training told her to go to him, but her natural instinct told her to stay in the shadows.
“Marty, you copy?”
“Yes. What’s wrong?”
“Marsh has been shot.”
“What? I didn’t hear—”
“Silencer on a sniper rifle. Sit tight.”
“Oh, my God. Kris—”
“Sit tight,” she repeated. She crept closer to Marsh, staying low. “Lieutenant? Hang on,” she said as she fumbled with her phone, her hands shaking as she tried to dial 911.
He struggled to breathe. “Warehouse,” he said hoarsely. “Tomorrow night. Old Baker’s Ware—” His head was blown away before he could say more. The next two shots hit the dirt where Bailey had been before she rolled into the bushes a second earlier.
“Marty,” she yelled, crawling away. “Bring the car. Now.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said. “Where are you?”
“Just drive,” she gasped, not daring to stand up, fearing he’d find her in the scope of his rifle. “Go around to the fields.” She jumped as she saw the dirt kick up behind her.Where the hell was he? How was he seeing her? She stayed low, practically crawling along the ground, hiding where she could. She got to the edge of the garden, finally feeling safe as she stood behind a huge palm tree. She spotted Marty as she pulled to a quick stop along the curb by the intramural fields. She was in the open.
“I’m here.”
“I see you. You’re wide open.”
“What should I do?”
“Back up. I’ll come to you.”
“Kris, what about Marsh?”
“He’s dead.” Bailey pushed off the tree, running fast in a zigzag motion, hoping he could no longer see her. She paused at the street, looking around, then darted to the car, practically diving inside. “Go. Fast,” she said, fearing they’d be shot as they sped away. Two blocks later, she touched Marty’s arm. “Ease back. We’re clear now.”
“What happened?”
“He must have followed Marsh. Or tracked him. High-powered rifle with a silencer.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“I heard—”
“I know. He shot three times at me.” Bailey watched as Marty’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. She knew she’d been asking a lot of Marty. Marty wasn’t trained for this, she wasn’t mentally prepared for shooting and killing…and death. “I’m sorry I got you into this,” she said.
Marty shot her a quick glance. “I think I started things by opening up the cold case in the first place. It’s certainly not your fault.”
“I’ll understand if you want to bail on me. I can’t expect you to—”
“Let’s don’t talk about it now, Kris. I can’t even think right now. And as much as I disliked Marsh, I wouldn’t have wished him dead. It’s different when they’re strangers, when you don’t know them. But I had met this man.”
Bailey kept quiet, seeing the misting of tears in Marty’s eyes. No, she knew she wasn’t crying for Marsh. It was just the events, the situation, the fact that Bailey herself had been shot at. It was getting to be all too much for Marty.
Bailey wasn’t stupid. The sniper’s rifle had been aimed at her too. She could have ended up just like Marsh, with her head blown open. Marty knew that as well. Bailey leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Was it fair to drag Marty through this? Maybe she should send her to Rico’s. Better yet, maybe she should send her home, back to Atlanta. Bailey intended on going to the warehouse tomorrow night. She didn’t know what she’d find there, didn’t know if the Scorpion would show himself or not, but she would be there. As much as Marsh had made her professional life hell the last two years, she didn’t want his death to be in vain. She didn’t want him to just be another cop who succumbed to el Scorpion. She was ready to put an end to it. She was ready to get her life back.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Marty went straight to the drawers, pulling out clean clothes. Without looking at Kris, she said, “I need to shower. I need to—”
“I understand.”
Marty turned around. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m just having a hard time with all this.”
“I know.”
Marty escaped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She hated feeling this way…feeling weak, feeling frightened. Feeling alone again. It could have been Kris whom the sniper killed, not Marsh. And then she would be on her own, racing back to Corpus Christi, seeking shelter with Rico, a man she barely knew. Seeking comfort from him while she grieved, seeking answers, seeking closure that she knew somehow she would never get.
Kris had said it was a dangerous game, but it had proved far more dangerous than Marty had anticipated. She thought they’d left the worst behind after surviving the hit on her rented beach house. And as much as Kris wanted to believe they were the ones doing the hunting, it felt very much like they were the ones being hunted. She’d heard Marsh’s last words, his dying words, she’d heard him tell Kris about the warehouse. She knew without a doubt Kris was already making her plans, trying to figure out how to get inside the warehouse. And Kris would need her to help.
She met her eyes in the mirror as she stripped naked. She would do what Kris asked, of course. There was no question about that. But she was plenty scared. Scared for both their lives. Scared that this time, Kris wouldn’t be able to dodge the bullets. Scared that this time, when Kris reminded her to get to Rico should something go wrong, she’d actually have to do that.
She stepped into the shower, turning it to nearly scalding hot as she scrubbed her skin, trying to wash away the events of the night…and wash away her fears. But when she stepped out and wrapped a towel around her body, nothing had changed. The fears she had still haunted her, making her chest feel tight.
She found Kris sitting at the small table, her hands wrapped around a glass, the bottle of cognac sitting beside her. Across the room by the door, she saw the weapons and the rest of the equipment they kept in the false trunk. She raised her eyebrows.
“I moved the car,” Kris said. “A couple of blocks away. Rico is sending someone to pick it up. A chop shop.”
“That means we’re getting another one?”
“Yes. He should be here by dawn.”
“Just like that? He just has cars at his disposal?”
Kris smiled.“Let’s just say he knows a lot of,well,car dealers.” She poured a small amount of cognac into another glass. “You want to talk?”
Marty pulled out the other chair and sat down, taking the drink. “I want to run away,” she admitted. “I want us to just leave here.”
“And do what? You want to be Patty Stone the rest of your life?” Kris shrugged. “I kinda like being Kristen Bailey. And I think you want to be Marty Edwards. If we run, we can’t be those women ever again. Because they’ll find us. Somewhere, someday, they will.”
Marty leaned closer. “We can’t find this man, Kris. I mean, if our own government can’t stop drug cartels, how do we think we can?”
“You’re right.But I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with.” She stood up, pacing slowly in the small space of the kitchen. “I think this guy is a local. Small potatoes. He operates here.” She turned to Marty. “Think about it. A drug cartel, a drug lord, they have a small army.They don’t operate on the streets in dark alleys. They sell massive amounts of drugs to equally massive dealers. It’s all very organized. They don’t own police departments. They don’t have to. They’re worth billions of dollars.”
“And this guy?”
“No. He’s concerned about the three hundred thousand I took. He plays the cops and he pays the cops. That’s the only way he can operate here. A drug cartel isn’t going to pay bribes to cops. They don’t have to.”
“Okay, I follow your thinking. Our guy pays the police off to let him do his business. And he kills to keep the fear up.”
Kris nodded. “Right. I think our original assumption is correct. This may have started years and years ago, passed off time and again. The current el Scorpion is dangerous. He thinks he has the power. He thinks we can’t get to him. He took out his contact, Marsh, to keep it that way. Which gives us a little advantage. He doesn’t have a voice in the police department right now.”
“What about Diaz? Marsh said Diaz used to be the contact. Maybe he’ll go back to that.”
“Maybe.” She paced again. “But something’s still not right. Is a large drug cartel going to let some local operate here? The drug lords, the cartels, they’re like giant gangs. They all have their own territories, on both sides of the border. Are they going to let someone get a piece of their pie?”
“So maybe he does work for them?” Marty’s head was spinning with all this speculation. It was just a guessing game.
“I don’t think so. He has too much power here to be working for them. He controls too much of this city. It’s something else. Something we’re not seeing.”
“But you’re planning for us to go to the warehouse anyway,” Marty said.
Kris sat down again. “About that. In the morning, I want you to leave with Rico. I think—”
“No.” Marty’s gaze was unflinching as she met Kris’s. “No. No. I won’t leave you.”
“Marty, this is best. It’s too dangerous—”
“Exactly,” she said, standing. It was now her turn to pace. “I won’t let you go there alone.Don’t ask me to.”When Kris started to speak, Marty held up her hand. “No. There’s no discussion, Kris.”
“You’re not trained for this. Mentally, you’re not prepared. I don’t want to put you through this.”
“It’s not your decision to make.”
“Yes, it is.”
Marty spun around. “The hell it is. I’m not leaving. We’re in this together.”
Kris’s gaze was steady and she stood too, coming closer. “I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. Please. Go with Rico.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Marty, please don’t argue about this. You know it’s the logical thing to do.”
Marty took a step back, shaking her head. “Logical? There’s nothing logical about this situation.” She pointed to the weapons on the floor. “There’s nothing logical about that. There’s nothing logical about having three hundred thousand dollars of drug money in our possession. No. And don’t you argue with me about this.” She spun around then, heading to the door. She needed some air. She needed to think. She opened the door, slamming it loudly as she stepped outside. She took deep breaths of air, trying to clear her head. So Kris wanted her to leave, wanted her out of harm’s way, wanted her to logically think about the situation. She looked overhead, the stars obscured by the lights of the city.
“No. I won’t go,” she whispered.
* * *
Bailey flinched as the door slammed. Well, what had she expected? That Marty would easily agree to this? No, Bailey knew she wouldn’t. But she thought perhaps she could persuade her, perhaps they could talk rationally about it. But no, they were too emotionally involved to be rational. If the tables were reversed, she would have reacted the same way.
She got up, feeling the grime from the night on her skin. She wanted a nice hot shower and a nice warm bed. And she wanted the comfort of Marty beside her. She got up, gathering her things for her shower. She didn’t worry about Marty being outside. She knew Marty wouldn’t go far or stay out long. She had just needed some space, some time alone to reconcile everything. Bailey couldn’t blame her for that.
She hurried through her shower, not bothering to brush her wet hair when she finished, leaving the short blond strands to fall where they may. She had gotten used to the short hair, though not necessarily the blond color. She looked closer, seeing her dark roots beginning to show. Hopefully, this would be over soon and she wouldn’t be forced to color her hair again.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, the lights were off. She glanced at the bed, seeing Marty with the covers pulled to her shoulders. Her silent breathing told her Marty wasn’t asleep.
“I’m sorry,” Bailey said softly.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Okay.”
She pulled the covers back, crawling in beside Marty. Bailey felt the heat of her and she was drawn to it. It was only then that she realized Marty wasn’t wearing the flannel pajama bottoms she was so fond of. She moved her hand, expecting to feel a T-shirt blocking her path. Instead, she felt only warm skin. Marty’s sharp intake of breath made her own breathing increase. Marty was naked. So Bailey sat up, pulling her shirt over her head. She was startled to feel Marty’s hands tugging at her panties, peeling them off.
