Enemies and Playmates Page 14

  “Yeah.”

  “Covington’s orders?”

  “I ain’t saying nothing else.”

  Jesse ran his hand through his hair. He was silent while he sorted things in his mind. Immunity. Protection. And money. Jesus. He said, “Can you give me something that definitively links the hits and Forenzi to Covington?”

  Nyles squirmed but nodded. “Not till I’m safe, though.”

  “You are a prick, Nyles.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  From the prison, Jesse drove to the café where he was meeting Tim for lunch. He should have been using the driving time to work things out in his head. Dealing with Eldridge again would not be a joyous experience. He needed a sound – and quick – argument.

  But Jesse had hardly given Chris Nyles or Tom Eldridge a thought since leaving the prison. His thoughts floated around Lauren. His worst fears were now fact. He’d become a lovesick idiot.

  He spotted the store ahead and, with Lauren front-and-center in his mind, pulled into the parking lot. He hopped out of his car and stepped inside the flower shop. Further evidence that he’d become a lovesick fool.

  The young woman behind the counter greeted him with a bright smile. “Hi,” she said. “What can I do for you today?”

  Jesse wanted to tell her that for starters she could remove the piece of lettuce that was wedged between her teeth. Instead he said, “I want to get a dozen red roses delivered this afternoon.”

  “Oooh, roses,” the clerk said. “Your wife?”

  “No, girlfriend.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered like they were on a hit of speed. “Lucky girl,” she said.

  Jesse wrote down the address, filled out a little card to go with the flowers, then handed the girl his credit card. She took it, brushing her long plum-colored nails across his hand. “You have a very cool name,” she said. “Like a movie star or something.”

  Jesse bit his lip to keep from laughing. Somehow a come-on from a girl fresh out of diapers with food stuck in her teeth simply was not flattering. But he smiled and said, “Thanks. Maybe that’s what my parents were hoping for.”

  She slid his card through the machine at the register. He signed the receipt, stuck his credit card back in his wallet. The girl did that weird eyelash batting thing again. She said, “Can I do anything else for you?”

  The words were innocent. But the tone held a playful suggestion. Jesse looked away and managed to keep his sarcasm in check. He said, “That’ll do it. Thanks.”

  At the café, Jesse found Tim at a table in the back corner. Tim said, “I took the liberty of ordering you a rum and Coke. Figured you’d need at least one after the day you’ve had.”

  Jesse laughed. “You’re a true friend.”

  “You look like hell.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Sleep seems to be eluding me these days.”

  “How’d it go today?”

  “Slow,” Jesse said. “Took forever to get the go ahead from Eldridge. Then Nyles gave me a little more info before the prick decides he wants total immunity from anything that may incriminate him in this mess. And he wants money so he can get his scrawny ass out of the city and hide somewhere safe.”

  “You think he knows enough to make it worth all this?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  A short redheaded waitress brought their drinks. She grinned happily while taking their order, then seemed to bounce away. Tim swirled the ice around in his glass, watching the brown liquid slosh against the sides. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

  Jesse shook his head, laughed. “Do I ever really know what I’m doing?”

  “Now that makes me feel better.”

  “Relax. I’ve got it under control.”

  “I’ve never seen you get so personally involved in a case you’re not even getting paid for,” Tim said. “I find it hard to believe that this is all about seeking justice.”

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  “I know part of this is about revenge,” Tim said. “But the real drive behind this… You love her?”

  “Lauren?”

  “No, freakin’ Aunt Jemima.”

  “I’ve never met her,” Jesse said with a grin. “But her pancake syrup’s pretty good.” The grin faded. He groaned. “Yeah.”

  “Does she know what you’re up to?”

  The too-energetic waitress returned with their food. Her dimples and smile were a permanent fixture on her freckled face. She set their burgers down and told them to enjoy their meal. Her tone made their lunch seem like a carnival ride.

  Jesse picked at his fries. “I’ve told her a little,” he finally said. “She doesn’t know everything. Yet.”

  “How do you think she’s going to feel about you going after her father like this?”

  “I think she’ll be relieved if I can nail him.”

  Tim sighed. “Anything I can do?”

  “Yeah.” Jesse took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and tossed it on the table. “I need everything you can come up with on those names.”

  “No problem.”

  “One other thing.”

  Tim sipped his drink. He watched Jesse over the rim of his glass. “I’m listening.”

  Jesse removed a manila envelope from his briefcase. He handed it to Tim and said, “If by some chance I disappear, turn this in to the FBI. Not the local cops.”

  Tim stared at him, his jaw slack. “You’re serious.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the hell are you into here?”

  Jesse looked at Tim, shook his head, said nothing. Tim said, “Maybe you should turn this over to the FBI now. Let them take over. It ain’t worth your life.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jesse said. “This is just a precaution. I’m fine.”

  The waitress bounced back to their table. In her singsong voice, she asked, “How is everything?”

  “Fine thanks,” Jesse said.

  “Great!” she replied. “Let me know if you need anything!”

  As she bounced away, Jesse said, “What is she, the damn energizer bunny?”

  Tim laughed. “Why, you want to test her batteries?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Ahh, the taming of the stud.”

  “Scary, huh?”

  “Never thought I’d see it happen,” Tim said. “But maybe there will be some ladies left for me now that you’re off the market.”

  “They’re all yours.”

  “So tell me about her.”

  “Aunt Jemima?”

  Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Is she as hot as that picture on the syrup bottle?”

  Jesse took a swallow of his rum and Coke. He tried to keep the dreamy, schoolboy drool at bay when he spoke. “Lauren is incredible.”

  “Well that tells me all I need to know,” Tim said.

  “I guess you’d like a little more detail.”

  “Would be nice.”

  Jesse easily described both Lauren’s physical appearance and her personality. The more he talked, the more he realized how deeply in love he was. He was pretty sure the dreamy, schoolboy drool thing was currently in full flow. However, Tim was nice enough not to point it out.

  They finished eating, paid the bill, then stepped out into the mid afternoon sunshine. Jesse said, “I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Maybe Lauren and I can swing by your place so you two can meet.”

  “About time you thought of that,” Tim said.

  “Well you are a bit of an embarrassment, you know.”

  Tim flipped his middle finger. “You’re just afraid she’ll like me better.”

  Laughing, Jesse said, “You know it.”

  “I’ll work on those names for you,” Tim said. “I’ll try to get it done later today. Maybe tomorrow, depending on how things go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.” Jesse cl
imbed into his Mustang, his mind whirling with tangled thoughts. How the hell had he let himself fall in love? And why did she have to be Alex Covington’s daughter? And would she really be okay with him helping to put her father away?

  He drove slowly, trying to decide whether to go to Eldridge’s office right away or put it off until tomorrow. The scent of garlic still haunted his nostrils. Could he take any more shit today?

  The image of a black Camaro in his rearview mirror caught his attention. It was following close. Too close. In fact, it was nearly on his bumper. He’d noticed the same car a few times before in the past week or so. And he didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Jesse pressed harder on the gas pedal. His Mustang shot forward, the Camaro close behind. Jesse muttered a few well chosen curses. He had no time for assholes today.

  Jesse spun the wheel into a hard right turn, then a quick left. He checked the mirror. The Camaro was still following close behind. They were both driving way too fast for the area. Trying to outrun the guy was just plain stupid. Easier to pull over and find out what the hell he wanted.

  The road had a fairly wide strip of dirt on the side a few feet before the wide curve up ahead. Jesse tapped the breaks and swerved into it. Dirt and gravel kicked up all around him as he pulled to a stop. The guy driving the Camaro braked hard. He skidded by Jesse, slowed considerably, then sped off as if he’d changed his mind.

  Ignoring the angry horn blasts from other drivers along the busy road, Jesse jotted down the license plate number of the Camaro. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten much of a look at the driver. White. Probably medium build. Ball cap pulled low over his eyes. Could have been anyone.

  With a heavy sigh, Jesse steered his car back onto the road and headed toward the police station.

  17

  Alex was in his boardroom in the middle of a meeting with five of his firm’s lawyers. Suzanne buzzed in and said, “Mr. Covington, Captain Barnes is on line three. He says it’s urgent.”

  “Tell him I will get back to him within the next few minutes,” Alex said. He left his employees to deal with the remaining business and returned to his office. He ignored Suzanne’s greeting as he strode past and closed his office door. Picking up his private extension, he dialed James Barnes’ number.

  “Alex, I just got word,” Barnes said. “Eldridge is looking to cut a deal with Nyles. I’m not sure what Nyles is offering but I’ve heard Ryder’s name mentioned. Can’t be good.”

  Alex squeezed the receiver in his fist. “I warned you about allowing those charges on Nyles.”

  “The guy’s a three time loser with a murder rap looming over him. I couldn’t make that disappear. Not without raising a lot of eyebrows.”

  Alex swiped a hand over his face. He wanted to reach through the phone and slam a fist into Barnes’ face. But he kept his composure, as always. “Nyles is no fool,” he said. “He is well aware of the fate of those who speak out of turn.”

  “He’s also facing life in prison,” Barnes said. “He might be desperate.”

  “He has the best representation.”

  “But your firm hasn’t been notified about any of this? Nyles hasn’t mentioned meeting with Ryder?”

  Alex scowled at the empty room. No, his firm had not been notified. Whatever deal Nyles was attempting with Eldridge was being done without legal representation. And only one conclusion could be made from that. Nyles did not want his lawyer to know. He did not want Alex to know.

  He said none of this to Barnes. Instead he said, “I need immediate details on this supposed deal. Don’t raise any warning flags with your questions.”

  “Understood.”

  Alex disconnected the call and slammed the phone onto its base. He gazed at the wall of framed photographs. Memories captured in time. Him with the mayor, the police chief, the governor, and an assortment of others politicians and prominent figures. Some smiles real, some in place only for the camera. Those photographs depicted nearly two decades of achievements. Now one man threatened to ruin it all.

  Naturally that would never happen. But Alex had to admit, if only to himself, that Jesse Ryder was a worthy opponent. He would have been a tremendous ally. He was a dangerous enemy. And all enemies were best eliminated.

  Alex sat for a moment letting the anger wash over him. He needed an outlet. A diversion. A little of each. He placed a few calls on his private line. Feeling somewhat more relaxed, he summoned Suzanne into his office.

  “Call down to Katrina Robbins in reception,” he said when she’d stepped in. “Tell her to meet me in one-half hour. Make a reservation at The Royal. Her name. Then arrange for someone to cover for her the remainder of the day.”

  Suzanne pursed her lips. Her bottom lip trembled. She didn’t quite meet Alex’s eyes.

  “Is this jealousy, Suzanne?” Alex asked. “Rather unbecoming on you.”

  “I didn’t know. How long have you and Katrina…?”

  “Are you recalling our first months together? The mid-day rendezvous?”

  “I thought we had something special.”

  “Special?” Alex chuckled. “Spare me, Suzanne. You walked into this with eyes wide open.”

  “But Alex, please -”

  “Don’t.” Alex held his hand up as if to ward off the words. “Your job is secure. As for your appeal…” He shrugged. His tone was harsh. His words clipped. “You’re getting old, Suzanne. Tiresome. And I do as I please. I always have. You know that.”

  Suzanne’s eyes welled with tears. Alex shook his head. He had no patience for emotional scenes today. No reason to placate Suzanne’s delicate feelings. He owned her. And like many other things he owned, he was growing tired of her.

  Alex strode past Suzanne. He slipped into his Burberry London Fog trench coat. “I have a personal errand to run before meeting Katrina,” he said. “I will not be returning today. Now make those calls.”

  Nearly six p.m. and still Jesse sat in the stuffy, slightly chaotic police station. The very same station he’d walked out of barely two years ago. Of course, that was not before telling the lieutenant to shove the badge up his ass. Not one of his finer moments. He’d lost all restraint that day. But he’d never regretted his decision.

  Jesse propped his feet on Tim’s cluttered desk. Hard to believe Tim could work in this mess. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched the speed dial for Lauren. The sound of her voice gave him a little chill. He said, “I just called to see how you’re doing this evening.”

  “I’m doing great,” Lauren said. “The roses are beautiful. Thank you.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. Been busy today?”

  Jesse glanced around the room. Cops lost in paperwork, making calls, working on laptops. He simply sat on his ass, waiting. “Yes and no,” he said.

  Lauren chuckled. “A challenging day?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” He could almost smell her perfume, taste her kiss. He shook his head. Definitely a lovesick puppy. “I just miss you.”

  “Me too.”

  “What time are you coming over tomorrow night?”

  “About seven,” Lauren said. “Is that good?”

  “Any time is good.” Jesse spotted Detective Robert Foster across the room motioning him over. He held up a finger signaling Foster to wait a minute. “I’ve got to go,” he said into the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Jesse crossed the room. Foster’s expression was a good indicator of what Jesse was up against. He said, “I know you won’t work with me on this.”

  Foster groaned. “Jesse, we’ve known each other a long time. You know the rules as well as I do.”

  “Rules are broken every damn day.”

  “Yeah, well not for those of us who want to keep our job. I can’t do anything. The only way I can help is if you turn the case over to us.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Foster threw up his hands. “W
hat do you want from me? And what’s with this personal crusade you’re on?”

  “Who is the car registered to?”

  “Dominic Forenzi.”

  Jesse sighed. “I don’t think it was him driving.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Foster said. “You want us to go pick this guy up and question him? You want to press charges for harassment or something?”

  “Hell no. But thanks anyway.”

  Jesse turned and strode off. What a waste of time. He’d been hoping for an inside scoop. Something he could sink his teeth into. But he’d known it was a long shot. No one in their right mind wanted to get caught helping the rebel who’d defected from the force. Especially when the case involved high profile people who normally had a hands-off status.

  How much further was this whole thing going to go? His head ached. He rubbed his temple with one hand while fishing his keys from his pocket with the other. He needed food. And sleep. He’d prefer Lauren and an evening of slow sex.

  Jesse was less than two feet from his car when he realized footsteps were pounding behind him. He turned just in time to see a large fist coming straight at his face. The punch caught him on the edge of the cheekbone. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back a few steps. Spots of light exploded behind his eyes and his teeth throbbed.

  Jesse regained his senses and, in that split second, saw the glint of steel coming at him. He dodged to the left and the knife grazed his arm, slicing effortlessly through the sleeve of his leather jacket. His favorite jacket. And that really pissed him off.

  With a quick lunge forward, Jesse grabbed his attacker’s wrist and slammed it against the side of an SUV. The guy yelped and his hand went limp. The knife clattered onto the pavement, then skittered beneath the car.

  The guy wrenched his hand free and made a move. He wasn’t all that big, though he was wiry and surprisingly strong. Jesse, however, had twelve years of martial arts training. He’d taught self-defense for five years. And he was running on enraged adrenaline.

  He threw his attacker to the ground. The guy huffed, swore, and jammed his elbow into Jesse’s ribs. The two men struggled in the police station parking lot. All the while Jesse wondered how the hell all those cops could be two hundred feet away and still be so useless.