One Dark Wish, page 15
“Club?”
Samantha found a tube of antibiotic ointment in the kit and used a Q-tip to apply a small amount to Sarah’s arm. “Rage of Angels.”
“Down by the river?” Sarah didn’t want to say strip club or that dump, but she was pretty sure that place was both. “I thought the club closed.”
“It’s reopening tonight.” Samantha wrapped the Q-tip in a tissue she found on the desk and tossed them in the nearby garbage can. “I’m torn about it though. I hated working there, yet I could use the money. And the time is flexible, so I can keep my other jobs.”
“How many do you have?”
“Three.” Samantha squinted at the wound. “Juliet’s Lily, the club, and I give ghost tours.”
“Really?” Sarah tried not to wince as Samantha applied a Band-Aid to her arm. “I’ve always wanted to go on one of those.” She hadn’t because she’d always been afraid of correcting the tour guide. No one liked a know-it-all.
“Anytime you want, I’ll take you.” Samantha yanked off the gloves and smiled again. “Keep an eye out for infection. You never know.”
Sarah shoved the handkerchief into her straw bag and slipped on her sweater. “Thank you.”
Samantha started putting away the bandages and ointment and rearranging the other things in the metal first aid box. “Sarah? How much do you know about Nate and his men?”
“Not much.” Sarah picked up the photo on the desk of Nate in front of a Quonset hut. “I know they were Green Berets and now they work in a gym.”
“You know you have to keep their backgrounds secret, right?”
Nate had implied that. “Why?”
“Because”—Samantha pointed to the map of Afghanistan on the wall—“bad things happened to them.”
Sarah placed the photo on the desk. “Is that why Nate always seems…worried?”
“Nate suffers.” Samantha stared out the window, as if thinking of something else. “They all do, but Nate most of all. And he’d kill me for telling you this.”
“He mentioned his migraines.”
Samantha stood and closed the first aid box. “He also has seizures.”
“Which is why he can’t drive?”
“Partly.” Samantha smoothed down her lace top a few times. Her fidgeting continued until she whispered, “Their lives depend on our discretion.”
“What do you know about a man named Remiel?”
“He’s a monster who hates Kells and all of his men. Pete told me Remiel is their greatest enemy.”
“Even more than the Fianna?”
Samantha whispered, “We’re not supposed to talk about them.”
Sarah nodded and sighed. She would’ve liked to learn more about this Remiel who held her father’s life hostage, but based on Samantha’s frown, that info would have to come from someplace else.
Sarah stood and met Samantha’s concerned gaze. “I have no one to tell and no reason to hurt Nate and his men. Not even Ty.”
Samantha grimaced, then smiled. “Yeah, Ty is interesting. They all are. Luke is the sweetest. Vane is the most annoying. And Zack is the most unreadable. He’s nice, but I think there’s a temper there that can be volatile.”
“And Nate? Juliet said he was a man worth loving.”
“Nate carries everyone’s burdens. And it’s killing him.”
“What about his boss, Kells? He’s been having me and Nate followed.” Sarah quickly told Samantha about the photos taken of the two of them, leaving out everything else.
Samantha’s exhale sounded like a teenaged eye roll. “Kells is an ass.”
Sarah tried not to laugh. “Have you known Kells and his men long?”
“I’ve known Pete and Nate for six weeks, the others, including Kells, two weeks.”
“And you’re confident in your assessment of Nate’s boss and friends?”
Samantha chuckled and moved the first aid box from the desk to the floor. “I’m a cocktail waitress in the sleaziest club in town. I’m an expert in sorting the goods from the bads.”
Sarah nodded, not wanting to admit she was relieved. “Thanks.”
A knock sounded, and both women turned to find Detective Garza opening the door. “Do either of you know where Nate is?”
Pete appeared behind Garza and said, “Nate will be here soon. What’s up?”
“Gather your men in a training room. Calum is on his way.” Garza’s voice dropped to what seemed like a dangerous level, and he looked at Sarah and Samantha. “I’d like you both there was well.”
“What for?” Pete asked.
“We have a problem.”
* * *
Etienne stood on the Brigid’s deck, flexing his hands and cracking his knuckles. A stalling tactic because he didn’t know how to tell his coz what had happened. He also wasn’t sure what to do with the info about the historian that he’d just learned from Cassio.
That intel was explosive. Just a thing Remiel would want to know. But also a thing, if kept to oneself, that meant leverage.
A crew member appeared. “He’s waiting.”
Etienne pushed his breath in and out a few times before heading to his cousin’s office.
Remiel had changed into black dress pants, black silk shirt, and tie. His hair was wet, as if he’d just showered. He stood by a window, arms crossed. A gold ring glinted on his left middle finger. Stuart was gone, along with the chair. And the strawberry bowl was empty. “Our last mercenary is taking Stuart Pinckney to Charleston.”
“Will Stuart give you what you need?”
“Yes. For his wife’s sake.” Remiel used a finger to draw the letter B in the window’s condensation. The script was oddly elegant until he wiped it off with his fist. “Now. Tell me how another one of our men not only is dead but was killed by a Fianna warrior?”
“Did you have the Warden follow me?”
“Yes.” Remiel glanced at Etienne with those blue eyes framed by freakishly long lashes. “Apparently you saw Walker and ran out of the house like your ass was on fire.”
“That’s not what happened.” Etienne flexed and curled his fingers in an ongoing rhythmic motion that kept his temper under control. He’d proven his worth so many times there was no reason for anyone to question his commitment to his coz. “Why did you send the Warden?”
“We have work to do, yet you’re focused on revenge.”
“Because Walker killed my nephew Eddie.” Etienne pointed at Remiel. “Your cousin.”
“Reminders aren’t necessary. I can assure you I’ve kept track of every wrong done to our family. Done to you. Done to me. But work comes before revenge.” Remiel waved to a chair in front of the desk. “Tell me what happened.”
Etienne refused to sit. Instead, he paced the room. “I told Sarah the deal. Solve the cipher or see her father die in the psych ward. Then Walker appeared. As the merc and I were getting down to business with Walker, a Fianna warrior appeared and killed the merc.”
“But not you.”
“No. Cassio wouldn’t let Walker touch me.”
“Cassio?” Remiel stared out the window at the river beyond the yacht’s moorings. “Othello.”
Whatever. “Cassio said that the Prince won’t allow Miss Munro to solve the cipher.”
Remiel laughed softly. “Of course not.”
“To ensure Walker prevents Miss Munro from solving the cipher, the Prince put a price on one of Walker’s men.” Etienne swallowed and was about to say more when Remiel held out his left hand to study his palm. An ordinary gesture, except Etienne knew it was a tic. A thing his coz did before striking.
“The Prince has pitted the lovers against each other,” Remiel whispered. “How very clever. How very Shakespearean.”
The yacht rocked, and Etienne grabbed a bookcase. “Will Walker care more about his man than his girl?”
“Depends on the man.” Remiel sat behind his desk and began writing on a piece of paper with a dip pen he’d lowered into an inkwell. “Right now the Prince’s leverage is bigger than our leverage. That means I need to offer Walker a reason to betray his men and side with the girl.”
“Then I kill Walker, right?” Etienne moved toward the desk. “Walker needs to die for what he did to Eddie before the Prince recruits him.”
“Excuse me?” Remiel lifted his head, his pupils two pinpoints in a blue sea. Deep, dank, and dead.
Etienne retreated two steps. “Didn’t the Warden tell you? The Prince wants to recruit Walker. Although I’m not sure how killing one of Walker’s men will make him want to join the Fianna.”
Remiel dipped the pen into the inkwell, clicked the nib on the glass, and wrote again. “Because you don’t understand the Prince at all.”
“I know he and his men are psychotic freaks.”
“Hmm,” Remiel muttered under his breath. “Since you let one merc die and the other is in Charleston, you’ll have to deal with Leroy alone.”
That crazy-as-fuck Russian? Etienne swallowed, but his throat was so dry his spit got stuck. “Okay.”
“After seeing Leroy, return here.” Remiel used a metal shaker to sprinkle sand over the inked paper. Then he blew off the excess. “And for fuck’s sake, stay away from men who bow.”
“And the incoming shipment? We only have one hide site online. The other is flooding.”
Remiel handed the page to Etienne. “Here’s a temporary site. It should appease Leroy’s worries.”
Etienne folded it and shoved it in his pocket. He’d manage the Russian. But his patience had worn thin with waiting to kill Walker. He wanted eventually to be now.
When Remiel waved a hand in dismissal, Etienne went up on the deck and heard a moan. A man lay near the stern beneath a thin blanket, his hands cuffed to the railing.
Etienne lifted the blanket and gagged at the stench coming from Fletcher Ames. The man who’d once been Remiel’s trusted head of security and lead torturer. Fletcher raised his head, and a tear trailed down his cheek. The scars around his eyes had scabbed over but gave him the appearance of someone who’d almost had their eyes dug out with broken beer bottles. A bloody bandage had been wrapped around his head, covering where his ear had been cut off. “Kill me.”
Etienne didn’t answer. They all knew the consequences of working for Remiel. Great rewards came with great personal risk. And only God knew why Fletcher, one of the top guys in the org, had betrayed Remiel.
Etienne dropped the blanket and went for the ladder. Right now, he wasn’t concerned with rewards. Right now he was only concerned with revenge.
Once in his johnboat, he patted the pocket with the paper. Twice. Then slipped his hand in just to make sure and checked all of his other pockets. His heart thumped so loudly he was convinced Remiel could hear it, could know it, and would kill him for it. Etienne’s cell phone, and the only way to reach Leroy the Russian, was gone.
Chapter 18
If the gym’s phone doesn’t stop ringing, I’m going to crush it with a barbell. Nate pushed open the training room door under the threat of another headache. Not a migraine—thank goodness—just a dull thudding. Mostly from having to deal with Pete’s lectures and Zack’s glares while on the roof doing the watch-and-wait in case he’d been followed.
The day had shifted from not great to all out sucks with the only redeeming moments being those spent with Sarah. Speaking of which, Nate zeroed in on her and had to stop himself from taking her hand.
Everyone in the room stared at him while he focused on Detective Garza. The only no-show was Cain because he was still clearing out tunnels.
The front desk phone rang again, and Garza breathed with the force of a bull in heat, which meant someone—probably Nate—was in trouble. “Where’s Kells?”
Luke answered first. “Kells left town. He’ll return tomorrow.”
Normally, when the CO went out of town, the XO was the first to know. Nate exhaled loudly. Instead of adding to his pity party, he got the party going. “There’s a problem, Detective?”
“You bet your ass there is.” Garza’s irritated voice reminded Nate of the time, a few weeks ago, when the cop still believed Nate and Pete were criminals. “Were you with Sarah at her house when someone supposedly fired a shot this afternoon?”
Nate cleared his throat. “I was. With Sarah. When the shot was fired.”
Garza stared at Nate as if he were in preschool. “Care to tell us what happened?”
No. If it’d been just him, Pete, and Zack, Nate would’ve downloaded the entire sitch. But since he couldn’t mention the Fianna in front of the other men, he had to keep to the bare facts. “Sarah and I were at her house when Etienne Marigny appeared with a knife.” Nate raised a hand to stop the murmurs. “Etienne, one of Remiel’s cousins, is in the family business.”
“Jeez,” Pete said roughly. “I hate that arms-dealing psycho.”
“Wait,” Sarah said to Garza. “This Remiel Marigny is an arms dealer?”
“Among other things.” Garza took out his notepad and started writing. His eyebrows shifted center. “He’s also extremely dangerous.”
“Oh.” Sarah moved closer to Nate and added, “One minute Etienne had a knife at my throat, the next Nate disarmed the second man—”
“Whoa.” Pete stared at Nate. “There were two men?”
The front desk phone started ringing again, and Nate put a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Yes.”
Garza closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “What happened to the second man?”
Sarah raised her chin. “Nate fought him until a shot went off. It was violent and scary. I almost fainted.”
Garza opened his eyes to study Sarah. Considering his rapid blink rate, his bullshit meter was on overdrive. Nate deliberately didn’t look at her. Her attempt to play the frightened girl card would only work if he didn’t laugh.
“When Detective Elliot got there, he didn’t find anything,” Garza said. “No body. No blood. Nothing. But multiple people called in saying they heard a gunshot come from your house.”
“After the fight,” Sarah wrapped her arms around her waist, “Nate and I ran.”
Every one of Nate’s men stared at him with open mouths.
“You ran away from a fight?” Ty scratched his head. “I don’t believe it.”
“Bullshit.” Pete started to pace. “Bull. Shit.”
“Since when do you run away from anything?” Luke asked.
Zack threw in, “Especially a fight.”
“You’d pay people to fight you.” Vane laced his voice with condescension. “If Kells allowed it.”
Instead of answering his men, Nate studied Sarah, who stared at the floor because, apparently, the chipped fake-wood gym floor was the most amazing thing in the world. When the desk phone rang again, he ordered, “Would someone answer the damn phone?”
“I’ll do it.” Zack stomped out.
“Nate?” Garza’s voice sounded strained, as if he were one step away from strangling them all. “Is Etienne the hooded man you saw at Pops’s this morning?”
“How do you—”
“Calum told me.”
“Etienne isn’t the hooded man I saw at Pops’s. The hooded man is shorter.” Nate heard Sarah’s intake of breath and avoided her glares. “After we left Sarah’s house, the hooded man followed us.”
“What hooded man?” Luke waved one arm like he was trying to catch fireflies. Or a sliver of truth. “You were on the Isle of Grace this morning?”
“Yes. I went to the cemetery to, uh, check on something. Then I returned to Pops’s trailer where I’d parked the SUV.”
Vane took out his phone to text and offered a Kells-like response. “You drove a car and cut your own staff meeting?”
Ty looked around the room as if the walls had answers. “How come we didn’t know about this?”
“Nate didn’t want anyone to know.” Pete took Vane’s phone away and tossed it onto a stack of gym mats. “Kells is already aware of the situation.”
Garza’s loud cough stopped the convo. “Nate? Why didn’t you tell your men what happened this morning?”
“Zack and Pete know, since they came to get me.” Nate ran his hands over his head, hating, for the millionth time, that he had long hair. “I didn’t want to say anything to the others because I didn’t want them to worry.”
Garza frowned. “Does this hooded man work for Remiel?”
“My guess is yes.”
Sarah sighed and sat in a nearby metal folding chair.
After a long pause, Garza addressed her. “I talked to Sheriff Boudreaux. He mentioned you were in the cemetery this morning as well?”
Nate answered first. “How the hell does Sheriff Boudreaux know that?” Because Nate was sure he’d only mentioned meeting Sarah in the cemetery to Pete and Zack and…Calum.
Garza glanced at Nate. “I believe Calum told the sheriff.”
“Don’t say a word, Sarah.” Calum, in his starched suit and silk tie, sauntered into the room and stood between her and Detective Garza. Calum, as usual, was impeccably dressed and wandered around his city with perfect timing.
Garza muttered a curse. “You know we’re on the same side, Calum. Don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Calum said. “It’s why I told Sheriff Boudreaux that Miss Munro and Mr. Walker were in the cemetery this morning. It’s all on the up-and-up.” Calum smiled at Nate, then winked at Sarah. “But you’re still not interrogating anyone without a lawyer.”
“I’m not concerned about her trespassing. I’m concerned about the fact that Sheriff Boudreaux found a body on Capel land. A man was killed this morning. Shot in the chest and his hand sliced.” Garza handed his phone to Nate. “Do you recognize this man?”
The victim wore a blue suit, bow tie, and leather loafers. Someone had propped his body against an old tomb. The carvings along the top of the tomb were so old and covered with moss they were hard to make out, but they appeared to be five-petaled roses and five-pointed stars. The man had been shot in the chest, and his left hand was bloody. “I’ve never seen him before.”
