Hit List Page 8

  Vinnie grunted. His way of expressing his feelings when conversation approached emotions. He snatched the sheet of paper. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “A name and the little bit of background information I found on the guy so far.”

  “I see that. Sam Evans? What did he do?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucianna replied. “Maybe nothing. He was dating the woman I’m trying to help.”

  “The crazy lady?”

  “She’s not crazy.”

  “Right. What’s the proper term these days? Sanity-challenged?”

  “Geesh Vinnie! She’s traumatized. This guy Evans is a biker. Can you find out if he has any ties with the local gangs? See if he or anyone associated with him is talking about Corinne?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to hop on a Harley and play secret agent undercover.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I mean it, Vinnie,” Lucianna said. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Vinnie simply stared at her, his expression blank. After a moment, he said, “That’s ludicrous.”

  “You’re not invincible. I worry about you.”

  “You are aware that I spent time doing things for the government that, if done without our government’s seal of approval, would easily get me the death penalty. Draws serious concern as to our double standards for acceptable behavior.” Vinnie drummed his fingers against the desk. “At any rate, I may be approaching the age when retirement is expected. That, however, does not constitute losing one’s mind and abilities.”

  Lucianna smiled. “You’ll never learn to play nice, will you?”

  “Of course not.”

  She picked up her briefcase and gave her uncle another kiss on the cheek. “Let me know what you come up with.”

  ***

  Skeets skirted the thick cluster of oak trees with the mass of briars growing between them. The first time, he’d made the mistake of cutting through instead of going around. Had these damn pointed ball things stuck all over him. Scratched his arms to hell.

  What did he know about being in the woods? His playground had always been blacktop and concrete. He was learning, though. And he didn’t forget his lessons.

  The trees had been giving up their leaves pretty quickly this past week. The ground was a splash of color, like a psychedelic carpet. Damn things were dry, too. Crunched under his feet.

  He slowed his pace. The house was visible now. Didn’t seem to be any lights on but it was hard to tell from this angle. Couldn’t see half the house.

  Dusk came fast this time of year. Sort of swallowed up the last bits of light before you even realized the sun had gone down. He reached in his jacket pocket, touched his flashlight. Flicked it on and off real quick to make sure the batteries worked. Couldn’t imagine being stuck out here at night without it. Rather be holed up in one of them rotting tenements in the city.

  Would be a whole lot easier to watch from the street. Hot wire a car and sit all toasty warm where he could see blacktop and not be freaked out by all these skittering animal noises. Fucking Nico and his orders.

  Skeets got within a hundred yards of the edge of the woods, crouched down behind a fat tree. Wasn’t an oak. That much he knew. Wasn’t a pine, either, ‘cause it didn’t look like a Christmas tree. Whatever. He didn’t much care, anyway.

  He crouched, balancing on the balls of his feet. No way was he going to kneel down. No telling what was crawling around under this pile of leaves.

  Fifteen minutes passed. Maybe twenty. His legs started to throb. He stood up, stretched, crouched back down. Waited.

  Ten more minutes. He counted by seconds. Used that one-Mississippi routine. Then headlights swept across the house, lit up part of the yard before they disappeared into the garage.

  Another two minutes and the kitchen lights popped on. The dude walked into the room carrying a big bag. Take-out, most likely. The dude set it on the table. Started pulling out containers. Looked like Chinese. His stomach growled.

  Then she was there. Moved through the room, getting things from the cabinets. Plates. Glasses. Took silverware from a drawer. Laughed at something the dude said.

  Skeet watched as they sat down to eat. Studied their movements. Was aware of the heaviness of the gun stuffed in his pocket. Felt that familiar tingle in his fingers.

  Would have been easy to take them both out right there. Hit the floor dead before either one knew enough to be scared. But he’d been told that was not an option. He had his orders. And so he watched.

  Chapter 16

  Corinne stared at her reflection. The mirror over her dresser showed her an image of someone she didn’t know. What did she like to do? What had she done with her life so far?

  Her head pounded, a furious throb that threatened to crack her skull. A war raged in there as her subconscious fought to keep the memories safely hidden from her grasp. She wasn’t aware of the war. Just the pounding.

  She touched her hair. Orange-red. Frizzy curl. Big blue eyes stared back at her. She peered into them. Saw nothing.

  Tears filled her eyes, slid down her cheeks. She watched them as if viewing a movie. She heard a voice tell her to stay detached from it all. The voice was familiar. Probably because it was her own.

  ***

  Ian’s cell phone rang to the tune of the Luney Tunes cartoon intro. Back when Bugs Bunny dispensed wisdom while chomping carrots. When Porky Pig’s stutter made you laugh and Wile E. Coyote never gave up, no matter how many times the Road Runner forced him off a cliff. Back when cartoons were silly and life felt a lot less complicated. He’d changed the ringer last night, thinking he needed something light and silly in his life.

  He unhooked the phone from his belt. With a smile in his voice prompted by his caller ID, he said, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Ian. It’s Lucianna. Are you busy?”

  “Not at all,” Ian said. He glanced down at the pile of lumber he’d been leaning against for the past five minutes. Daydreaming. Cursing the sanity gods. “Actually, this is a perfect time. How are things going?”

  “I’m still working on stuff,” Lucianna said. “But I wanted to let you know that I did show your mother’s picture around the grocery store on Saturday and then again today. Not much luck. A few of the employees did remember seeing her but couldn’t recall any specific man following her or paying special attention to her.”

  Lucianna chuckled as she added, “Although one young woman did describe you in perfect detail.”

  “Let me guess,” Ian said. “The one at the deli. Safety pin in her eyebrow and a stud in her nose. Hair dyed jet black, all spiky. Speaks that ghetto language us average people need a translator to understand.”

  “She’d be thrilled to know that you remember her. She told me she’s been dropping subtle hints for you.”

  “The last time I went there she wrote her number on the label of my ham. She’s anything but subtle.”

  “Well then,” Lucianna said with a laugh, “I guess I can throw away the piece of paper she asked me to give you. Has her number on it.”

  Ian groaned. “Please do. I think I’d better switch grocery stores.”

  “Might be a good idea,” Lucianna said. “But I didn’t actually call to warn you about the makings of a stalker.”

  “Stalker?”

  “She has the potential.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Anyway, I was wondering if I could meet with your mom again soon,” Lucianna said. “We could arrange to talk with her psychiatrist present if you’d be more comfortable.”

  “No,” Ian said. “That guy’s psychobabble gives me the ultimate headache. Besides, I think my mom will be more receptive without him there.”

  “That’s fine. May I ask, though, why you take her to this psychiatrist if you aren’t comfortable with him?”

  “Because he’s the only doctor I could find at the time that was willing to treat my mother as an outpatient.” Ian sighed. �
��Two others wanted me to commit her. For her own good, they said. I couldn’t do it.”

  “I understand,” Lucianna said. “I couldn’t do that to someone I love, either.”

  Both were silent a moment, then Ian said, “Do you want to come over tonight?” After the words had slipped from his mouth, he realized how much they had sounded like he was asking her over for a date. He only wished.

  “If it’s not a problem.”

  “Seven o’clock?”

  “Perfect,” Lucianna said. “I’ll see you then.”

  Ian disconnected the call. He looked up at the smattering of heavy clouds, then back at the pile of lumber. By the looks of it, he only had a couple of hours before the rain started. Cold dreary rain, like a practice run before the snow fell in a couple of months.

  Rob was off at his twins’ karate meet. Something to do with them earning their first belt. Four years old and they could probably already kick his ass. That left him here working alone. Or not working alone.

  The thought of seeing Lucianna tonight made him smile. Even if it was business. Even if he felt a stirring down to his toes every time he looked at her.

  He picked up a strip of wood as his mind flashed an image of the girl at the deli counter. “Damn,” he muttered. Why couldn’t it be that easy with Lucianna?

  ***

  Dylan omitted a sound somewhere between a purr and a cry. Lucianna glanced down at him and asked, “Are you feeling neglected?”

  Dylan seemed to nod yes. It crossed her mind that she was spending too many nights alone with her cat. She’d wind up being called “Cat Lady” by all the neighborhood kids. Shriveled up, talking nonstop to her cats while insisting they answered her. Now there was an interesting scenario.

  Dylan meowed. Lucianna bent down, scooped him up, and planted a kiss on the top of his head. She said, “We should get you a friend. Would you like that?”

  Dylan blinked his big green eyes. He did not answer. That was probably a good thing.

  She put him down on the floor. As soon as she popped open the Pounce can, Dylan’s quiet meow turned into a full-force impatient cry. She dropped a few of the cat treats in front of him and said, “Now stop making me feel so guilty about leaving you tonight.”

  Lucianna swiped at the gray cat hairs that now clung to her purple jersey. If getting out of the house was this difficult with only a cat, she’d never survive being a working mother of human children.

  As she stepped out her front door, her cell phone rang. She dug in her purse and answered while unlocking and climbing into her car.

  “Sam Evans,” Vinnie stated, “is potential trouble.”

  Lucianna tossed her purse on the passenger seat. “What did you find out?” she asked. She fumbled with the phone while sticking her key in the ignition. Her seat held the night chill and getting her heater going was a priority.

  “As you know, Evans is a plumber,” Vinnie stated, his tone all business. “He has worked for Arbor Plumbing for the past fifteen years. Clean work record. Divorced ten years ago, caused by a gambling addiction. Has one child. A daughter, age twenty-five.”

  “Hmmm…” Lucianna murmured. “Sure sounds dangerous to me. Should I alert the National Guard?”

  “Do I ever ring warning bells for no reason?”

  “Uh-oh,” Lucianna said. “You’re not joking around, are you?”

  “No.” Vinnie paused, then said, “Your Sam Evans has ties with K Unit. Well established in the area. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “They’ve been around for decades. Their priority appears to be the drug market. However, they are, shall we say, diversified. Members branch off into smaller groups of special interest. A bit like our government. Hired killers, which is how they started out, hence the K in K Unit. Prostitution. And, rumor has it, black market baby selling, as well as child pornography.”

  Lucianna blew out a long breath. She said, “How deeply is Evans involved?”

  “From what I gather so far, he is used by them both when needed and when convenient. Not what you’d call a member. More like a private contractor.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “Paying off a favor,” Vinnie said simply.

  “What kind of favor?”

  “That I do not know. Yet. Although I would assume that it is tied in with his gambling.”

  “How long has he been paying this debt?”

  “Years,” Vinnie said. “And, to answer your next question, he will continue to pay until his death. That’s how it works.”

  Lucianna took a moment to digest that information. Then she said, “Thank you, Vinnie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Ah. At last a female who recognizes my value.”

  Chapter 17

  A typical middle class neighborhood in Northeastern Massachusetts. Lots of split level homes. A few ranches and colonials. Fences and plain green shrubbery bordering the homes, offering privacy. Making it easier to hide. And be hidden.

  The house they were looking at was a custom ranch. Larger than most. Nicely kept.

  They were parked diagonally across from the house, in front of a two-acre wooded lot. A For Sale sign stood at the opening of the lot. They pretended to be interested in the land. Looking at it. Talking.

  “This is ridiculous,” the passenger said. “We’re not going to get anywhere by watching the house.”

  The driver flicked his red Bic, inhaled from the cigarette dangling on his lips. The car filled with smoke. The passenger coughed, slid his window halfway down.

  “We should talk to the son,” the passenger said.

  “What? Just introduce ourselves and demand information?”

  “I was thinking of something more subtle.”

  “There is nothing more subtle. Anyway, the woman’s the key. Too bad she’s crazy.”

  The passenger shifted closer to the window. Sucked in fresh air and stared across at the house. “No one knows how long it’ll last. Maybe forever. Maybe not.”

  “Uh-huh,” the driver muttered. He blew a long stream of smoke at the windshield. A cloud formed, temporarily obscuring their view.

  The passenger said, “Why don’t we leave her alone? Work the other angle?”

  “Not an option.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I said so is why.”

  The passenger inhaled fresh air from outside the window. He said, “Be easier if we worked the K Unit.”

  “Easier, sure.” The driver squashed his cigarette butt in the ashtray. “Nothing about this has been easy. And if you thought about it, you’d know the K Unit ain’t got nothing. They’re sniffing around, too. They get the answers first, we’re fucked.”

  Headlights struck their car from behind, illuminating the inside. Both men turned toward the woods, stared out at the dark patch of land, waited for the car to move around them. It drifted sluggishly past.

  The driver said, “You gotta talk to her again. Get her to tell you.”

  “If she doesn’t lose her mind completely,” the passenger muttered.

  “Anyway, he might show up here eventually.”

  “Unlikely. He’s not stupid.”

  The car pulled into the driveway of the ranch they were watching. Both men fell silent, their gazes locked on the car and the woman emerging from it. She glanced in their direction. Too dark for her to see into their car. But the streetlight above her allowed them to see her frown.

  The woman walked to the front door. The son let her in just as she was about to knock. As the door closed behind them both, the driver said, “You know her?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’d remember her,” the passenger said. “She makes an impression.”

  The driver started the car. “Take down the license plate.”

  The passenger grabbed a notepad from the glove box and jotted the number down as they drove past. He said, “Maybe a girlfriend.”

 
; “Or an expensive hooker.”

  “Didn’t look the type.”

  The driver smirked. “The expensive ones don’t.”

  “Come on in,” Ian said. “Sure feels like winter’s coming.”

  Lucianna wriggled out of her coat. She said, “I know. I can’t believe how cold it’s gotten.”

  Ian, ever the gentleman took her coat and hung it on the rack beside the door. He said, “How about some hot coffee or tea to help warm you up?”

  “Tea would be great.” Her voice dropped just above a whisper as she asked, “Do you know anyone who drives a tan Chevy Impala?”

  Ian shook his head. “Not that I can think of. Why?”

  “There’s one parked across the street in front of that empty lot. Two men sitting in it as far as I could tell.”

  Ian’s gaze darted to the window. He turned back and stared at her for a moment, his jaw slightly open. “You think my mother was right? Someone is watching her?”

  “Don’t panic,” Lucianna said. “It could be nothing. I wrote the license plate number down, so I’ll find out who they are and why they were out there.”

  “Okay.” Ian’s gaze drifted to the window again. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t say anything to your mother yet. We don’t want to upset her.”

  As if on cue, Corinne turned away from the blank television screen and called out, “Why are you two over there whispering?” Then she giggled and added, “Having a little lovers’ chat?”

  Ian’s cheeks flush. Lucianna turned away, not wanting to embarrass him further. To Corinne she said, “It sure is chilly out there tonight.”

  “Ian lit a fire for us,” Corinne said. “Come sit and get warm.”

  Lucianna stepped in front of the fire and rubbed her hands together. “That feels good.”

  Ian said, “Ma, do you want some tea?”

  “I would love some,” Corinne replied. She turned to Lucianna and asked, “Will you have a cup with me?”