Hit List Page 13

  Graham’s passion for conversation only extended to women. “Nothing,” Sterling replied. “It was like I said it would be. She doesn’t know anything. Or, if she does, it’s locked away somewhere no one’s going to reach.”

  “She remembered you?” Graham asked.

  “I can only assume she did.” He flashed back to that look in her eyes as recognition had come. The cheeseburger he’d eaten before coming to work did gymnastics in his stomach. He ran his hands through his short curly hair and said, “She backed into a corner and muttered to herself. Nothing that made sense. She was terrified.”

  “Yeah, well maybe it’s guilt,” Graham said.

  “I don’t think she knew the details.”

  “You’re so sure of that?” Graham said. “Or is that just what you want to believe?”

  “I could see it in her eyes.”

  Graham grabbed his Camels from the dashboard. He flicked his Bic and inhaled as if the tobacco was his lifeline. Then he glared at Sterling and said, “And why do you think she’s so fucking innocent?”

  “My gut instinct is that he kept the details to himself.”

  “Damn,” Graham muttered. “We need answers and we’re running out of time.”

  “Any luck with the informant angle?”

  Graham drew on his cigarette. He said, “Nico has things tightly wrapped. And no one crosses him if they value their life.”

  “So we’ve got to find a way to force them out of their comfort zone.”

  “Yeah? For instance?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Graham blew a stream of smoke against the windshield. He stared at it as he said, “Well come up with something quick. I’m running short on patience. And you’re running short on time.”

  Chapter 25

  The evening crawled by. Ian gave his mother one of the Xanax that Dr. Endicott had prescribed. He made her a second cup of tea. Held her hand. Talked nonsense. Finally, at close to ten o’clock, he tucked her into bed. He sat on the edge, watching, listening to her breathing as she drifted off.

  She had said little, aside from her comment that “he was here”. Nothing about who the mysterious “he” was. Nothing about what he wanted. Yet Ian had no doubt that she was telling the truth, that this man existed.

  Assured that she’d fallen deep into sleep, he crept from the room, easing the door closed behind him. He wandered through the house, peering out each window, looking for anything out of place. No life stirred in the darkness.

  Eventually he wound up in his bedroom. He glanced at the phone, shook his head, paced. It was nearly 10:30 now. Too late to be bothering her with this. What did he expect her to do?

  He kept pacing, thought about calling Rob. That made even less sense. He kicked his shoes off. Maybe a shower would calm him down. Maybe he should take one of his mother’s Xanax. Or a damn handful.

  His heart continued to thud heavy against his chest. Not bothering to examine his motives any further, he reached for the phone and dialed.

  She answered quickly, just short of two rings, and he had a sudden urge to hang up. Like a nervous high school kid. He said, “Hi Lucianna. It’s Ian. I’m sorry to call so late. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “It’s fine, you didn’t,” Lucianna said. “How are you, Ian? Is everything okay?”

  Ian sank onto the edge of his bed. “No. I mean, I’m not sure. Christ, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “Stop apologizing and just tell me what’s going on.”

  Her voice was calm, soothing, like having a soft velvet blanket wrapped around him. Ian closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and could almost smell her perfume. Somewhere in his subconscious he was well aware that it was Lucianna the woman he’d wanted to speak to, not Lucianna the investigator. However, now was not the time to try to separate the two.

  He said, “I think my mother’s been right all along. Someone has been watching her. And I think he was in the house tonight.”

  “You’d better start from the beginning,” Lucianna said.

  Ian explained the events of the evening, beginning with finding his mother in the closet. When he’d finished, he added, “And this may sound crazy but I think I was being followed today.”

  “Was it that same tan Impala?”

  “No, a green Toyota. I’m probably just being paranoid now. But it was strange because the car kept circling the block where I was working. I noticed it a few times during the course of the day.”

  “Did you get the license plate?”

  Ian sighed. “No, I should have but I figured I was reading too much into it. Letting this whole thing get to me. Until I came home and found my mother…. Then it suddenly all seemed too real.”

  “I’m going to come over,” Lucianna said. “I want to take a look around, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure.” Ian realized he had grasped at that too quickly. Too eagerly. He added, “You don’t have to do that, though. There’s nothing. I checked out all the windows. Nothing’s missing or broken. It doesn’t look any different than when I left this morning.”

  “I’d feel better if I looked,” Lucianna said. “Sometimes it’s easier for someone else to spot the little things.”

  Ian agreed. He tried not to sound too happy at the prospect of seeing her. He wondered if he was coming across as some helpless fool. Probably. Nothing like making a good impression.

  ***

  Nico stepped out into the back alley. A stray cat hissed at him, then skittered behind the row of trashcans. He moved away from the door and lit a cigarette.

  The night was deep black. If there were stars in the sky, it was impossible to tell. Only a faint ray from a nearby streetlight penetrated the narrow alley.

  Viper stood in front of the doorway, arms folded, eyes hard and unblinking. Skeets stood beside him, waiting for Nico to turn and acknowledge him. A brisk wind blew through his thin jacket. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Despite the cold, sweat trickled down the small of his back.

  Music seeped out through the closed door. A few men hooted and another whistled. Jasmine would be on the stage soon. His favorite, though he would never voice that out loud. She was Nico’s. One of many.

  Finally Nico turned. As he exhaled a stream of smoke, he said, “You got two minutes. Make ‘em count.”

  Skeets hated when Viper stayed so close. Made him nervous that the guy could just reach out and crush him before he even realized he was in trouble. But he resisted the urge to move away. “I been thinking about Sam and how maybe he could help us,” he said.

  “Sam?”

  “Evans. You know, he used to hang with that broad.”

  “Yeah, I know who Sam is,” Nico said. “How the hell is he going to help us? The dumbass wasted three months dating her and couldn’t come up with a damn thing. What, you think now that she’s fucking loony he’ll have better luck?”

  Skeets hunched his shoulders, preparing for the blow he was sure would come at any moment. This time when he spoke, his voice was higher pitched. “No. I know she probably won’t tell him nothing. I was thinking maybe if he hung out, you know, pretended to be concerned about her. Maybe he’d learn something that way. Listen to her phone calls. Read her mail. Get close to the broad’s kid. Maybe find out if they been in touch.”

  Nico’s expression remained blank. Skeets glanced around the alley, feeling dangerously isolated. Viper hadn’t moved but he somehow felt closer, like his presence sucked up all the extra space.

  A few agonizing seconds passed. Then Nico nodded. “Best idea you’ve come up with yet,” he said. “Find Evans. Tell him to get his ass over here.”

  Skeets almost shouted with relief. “Right away,” he said. Then he turned and slipped gratefully past Viper and through the door.

  ***

  Lucianna switched off her flashlight and followed Ian back inside the house. “Not even the slightest sign of forced entry,” she said. “Would your mother open the door for someone she didn’t kn
ow?”

  Ian shrugged. “I don’t know. There are probably days that she would. Then there are other days when she wouldn’t even open the door for people she does know.”

  “I guess that means we have no way of knowing if this person is a stranger or not.”

  “I know this wasn’t her imagination.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t,” Lucianna said. She wanted to reach out and comfort him. He looked as if he was about to jump out of his skin. She would have liked to touch him, hold him, promise they’d figure this out together. Instead she said, “Something is definitely going on. I’d like to talk to your neighbors tomorrow. See if they saw anyone hanging around here during the day.”

  “Most of them work all day,” Ian said. “Except Louise Patterson, in that yellow house next door.”

  “I’ll start there, then.”

  He met her eyes, then quickly averted his gaze. “Do you want to sit down? Have a glass of wine or something?”

  The logical, professional part of her said that was not a good idea. She should politely decline. Keep the boundaries intact. However, the purely female part of her loved the idea of spending time alone with him. And apparently she was more female than professional this evening. She said, “That sounds nice.”

  Out in the kitchen, Ian popped open a bottle of Zinfandel. He poured them both a glass and they sat in the dining area. Lucianna took note of the unusual oval shape encased in beautiful mahogany wood and lots of glass. She said, “This was definitely not an original part of the house.”

  Ian fiddled with his wineglass. “I built it about six years ago, when I put the deck on.”

  “It’s amazing.”

  Ian flushed before he tilted his head down, feigning great interest in the edge of the table. Sexy, talented, and also modest. Lucianna found herself on the verge of losing her last shred of professionalism.

  She gazed out the window. The moonlight sifting through the trees cast a blanket of shadows on the backyard. The effect was both eerie and captivating.

  They talked about his job and her cat. They shared likes and dislikes, many of which were the same. But, of course, she wasn’t keeping score. The one thing they didn’t talk about was his mother and all the mystery surrounding her. This was not even a thinly disguised business meeting. This was strictly personal.

  Lucianna was comfortable with Ian in a way she’d never before experienced. Time passed in a flash. It was as if she blinked and it was suddenly after midnight. “I can’t believe it’s so late already,” she said. “I’d better get going.”

  Ian walked her to the front door. Once again she had that feeling of being a silly teenager, wondering if her date was going to kiss her good night. She absolutely wanted him to. She was also afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop there.

  “Thanks for keeping me company tonight,” he said. “You’re really fun to be with.”

  Now it was her turn to blush, which was a rarity. Was it possible to suddenly revert back to adolescence? She said, “I like being with you, too.”

  Tumbling into bed with him at this moment would not be a wise move. She knew that, kept reminding herself of that. Presently, however, she was having difficulty recalling reasons behind that fact. Before the part of her that desperately wanted to be with him won the battle, she reached out and turned the doorknob. She tried to keep her composure, saying, “I’ll see you at the office at nine?”

  “Yup. I’ll bring your tea.”

  Their eyes locked. The electricity was nearly palpable. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Drive carefully.”

  She nodded, feeling oddly overwhelmed. She left before she could change her mind.

  Chapter 26

  Skeets drove his rusted Camaro across town, pushing the speed limit all the way. First he’d stopped to pick up two of his friends for support, as well as muscle. He doubted that Sam would come with him willingly, particularly if he showed up alone. And he wasn’t about to take the chance of pissing off Nico.

  He found the street easy enough but missed the house and had to turn around twice. Finally he switched off the headlights and rolled into the driveway of a small brown ranch. Gravel crunched beneath the tires. He edged in behind Sam’s truck and killed the engine.

  Skeets glanced at Johnny, noticing the glint of metal in his hand. He said, “Don’t shoot nobody.”

  “I won’t, so long as I don’t have to,” Johnny said.

  From the backseat, Will said, “Someone looks at you wrong, you think you gotta take ‘em out.”

  Johnny stuck the gun in his jacket pocket. “I guess the fucker better not look at me wrong then.”

  “You can’t kill him,” Skeets said. He stopped when he realized he was close to whining. After clearing his throat, he said, “Don’t worry. He’ll come without much problem. You kill him and Nico’s gonna be all over you. And I ain’t taking the rap for that. No fucking way.”

  Johnny scowled. “We gonna get this done or what?”

  When they were all standing on the front step, Will asked, “You gonna knock?”

  “He ain’t gonna open the door if he sees all three of us,” Skeets said.

  “Jesus,” Johnny sputtered. “Get the hell outta the way.”

  In less than a minute, Johnny had the front door cracked open. They peered inside. Total darkness. Johnny nudged the door further. They paused and listened, then the three of them slipped inside.

  Skeets led the way to the bedroom. He’d only been in Sam’s house once before but he remembered the layout well. Besides, it was hard to screw up in a house this small.

  Skeets went to one side of the bed, Will following close behind. Johnny plunked down on the other side of the bed. He rubbed the cold metal of the gun against Sam’s cheek. “Wake up call, Sammy boy,” he said. “You gotta come with us.”

  ***

  Lucianna stroked Dylan under the chin. He purred while kneading the spot beside her until satisfied. Then he curled up in a ball and slept.

  She lay still in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. Usually her motives with men were so clear to her. She liked them a little wild, a lot sexy. And only on a short-term basis. That way there was little risk of the relationship trap. She’d never wanted to be in love. The why behind that behavior had always stayed just beneath the surface. She knew. Her uncle Vinnie and, while she’d been alive, her Aunt Mary had always known. But no one talked about it. She didn’t even think about it. Until now.

  Her mother had been hopelessly in love with her father. And he had killed her. Strangled her in a drunken rage. Then shot himself in the head when he’d realized what he’d done.

  Lucianna had been twelve then. She’d come home from a sleepover with her best friend. The house had had a curious smell. One she couldn’t place and would never forget. She’d found them in the bedroom. Her father had still been holding her mother’s hand. She’d found the note as well. Her father’s regret hadn’t brought her mother back. Instead she’d lost them both.

  Therefore, love was not an option. Until now.

  ***

  Sam glared at Skeets as they crossed the parking lot. “You don’t have to cling to me like a fucking date,” Sam snapped. “I can walk all on my own.”

  Johnny stuck close to Sam’s other side and Will stayed a step behind. They approached the strip club, which was alive with activity even at nearly 1:00 on a Tuesday morning. Skeets said, “No offense, Sam. It’s just safer this way.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Sam muttered. “I ain’t gonna run away.”

  Inside the club, Nico waved them over to a corner table. He shoved Jasmine off his lap and told her to get lost. Then he said, “Sam, grab a seat. Get comfortable.”

  Sam wanted to laugh at that. Whenever Nico summoned him, he was anything but comfortable. But he wisely said nothing, just sat in the chair across from Nico and waited.

  Nico glanced up at Skeets and his friends. He waved them away. “Go drool over some broads for awhile,” he said. “Giv
e us some space.”

  As they wandered away, Nico turned back to Sam. “Drink?” he said.

  “Nah. I gotta work in a few hours.”

  “Yeah, okay. So what’s up with the crazy broad?”

  Sam didn’t have to ask which crazy broad Nico was referring to. He swallowed, looked over at the dancer on the stage, stalling the inevitable. He’d always liked Corinne. Which was why he’d never really pushed her for the information. Not hard, anyway. Not like he was supposed to. Or like he’d been claiming to be doing.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I ain’t seen her.”

  Nico drummed his fingers on the table. “Why not?”

  “Christ Nico, you know. She’s a nutcase now.”

  “Yeah. And there’s a reason for that.”

  Sam waited. Nico’s eyes bore holes into him. But he’d been playing this game with Nico for years now. The stare had long ago lost its edge.

  Barely a day passed when Sam didn’t play the “if only” game. If only he hadn’t had such a compulsion to gamble. If only he hadn’t put his house on the line, then lost it and, in the process, his wife. If only he had learned then, rather than cranking up the volume and sinking deeper in debt. If only he hadn’t run into young Nico, with all his money and all his ladies. If only he’d said no to the loans, to the ladies Nico offered. If only he could turn back the clock and do it all differently.

  “You need to spend time with her,” Nico was saying. “Hang around the house. Talk to her kid. Find out what the hell’s going on.”

  “Look Nico, she’s sick. All she does is babble. I don’t even know that Ian would want me hanging around the house now. You know, he don’t want her getting upset.”

  “Was I asking your opinion?” Nico leaned forward, his eyes cold and hard. “The kid trusts you. Christ, you were fucking his mother. It ain’t like you’re strangers. So you tell him you want to see her. You don’t ask. Got it?”