Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chase watched Conrad Decker turn the corner and disappear into the bowels of the warehouse.
It was him. The man that the witness at the cake shop—Phyllis—had seen the day of the murder. The man who’d terrified Ruby and Haley when he’d followed them.
Conrad Decker had to be Mickey’s real killer.
Thank goodness Ruby was in disguise, and Chase had his ball cap pulled low. The guy hadn’t known who they were.
Ruby’s hands flew to her chest. “He went in the same direction as Nora. What if he hurts her?”
Chase hadn’t wanted to face the guy without Noah Vandermeer’s help, but Decker was getting away. He debated for a moment before he made up his mind. “I’m going after him.”
Ruby grabbed his wrist, tugging him back. “We should go for help. I saw what Decker did to Tag.”
And they both knew what Decker had done to Mickey. Stabbed him seventeen times.
Chase didn’t want Decker to hurt Nora, either. But his main concern was still Ruby. Decker had gone after her, and he might choose to do it again. Chase didn’t intend to let that go.
He fished into his pocket and took out the plastic device Noah had given him. His thumb pressed the button. “You go back to the main room. I just signaled Noah, so he knows something’s up. This has a tracker he can follow, but it’ll be quicker if you tell him where I went.”
Chase started down the hall.
“Wait.” Her footsteps ran after him. “You said we’d stay together. I don’t want you going after Decker alone.”
“I have to follow him now.” And Chase intended to get her as far from Decker as possible. “I’m serious, Ruby. Go.”
She scowled at him, but this time, she turned and ran toward the noise of the crowd.
Chase hurried down the hallway, trying to keep his footfalls as quiet as possible.
He peered into open doorways as he passed. Some rooms were empty, others littered with overturned furniture and old paper. Night air wafted through broken windows, along with just enough ambient light to allow Chase to see.
The din of the fight had receded to a distant rumble.
He came to an intersection and listened. Footsteps. Voices.
Chase turned the corner and spotted Decker at the far end of the new hallway, opening a door. Decker glanced over his shoulder. Chase ducked out of sight, his back pressed against the brick wall.
He waited a moment, then looked again.
The door at the end of the hall was almost closed, but yellow light spilled from the gap.
What was the guy doing?
Was Nora in there?
Chase inched forward. Water dripped somewhere nearby. Voices murmured.
The door at the end of the hall was barely cracked open.
“You’re testing my patience, Decker,” a rough voice said.
“With respect, sir, I’ve done all I can.”
“As you should. You follow orders. You don’t give them.”
The man stepped forward, his face becoming visible through the crack.
It was Adrian Peele, the owner of the fighting circuit. Chase recognized him from a picture Ruby had shown him. Decker towered over Peele, yet the fighter’s shoulders were slumped in a subservient posture.
Chase wished he had something to record this conversation. But he hadn’t been able to bring his phone into the venue.
“A lawyer and investigator have been poking around,” Decker said, “asking questions. They’ve been to Bailor Fitness.”
“Tag Bailor is irrelevant.”
“But these people aren’t dumb. Some private security company is working with them. This could still lead back to me. I just want to get the fuck out of LA before they come knocking on my door. Give me the money, and I will.”
“And what about the woman? Ruby Whitestone?”
Chase’s entire body tensed.
“I can’t get near her. I hear she’s married to a cop, and now there’s bodyguards hanging outside her building.”
“Sounds like your problem. Not mine.”
“I could decide to start talking. I only went to West Oaks that day on your orders.”
“Is that really the direction you want to take this, Decker? I could destroy you if I wanted. Like I did to Tag Bailor.”
“You mean, like I did?” Decker’s massive fists were opening and closing. He stepped closer. And Peele’s gaze sharpened like he was seeing Decker for the first time.
Chase was surprised the man hadn’t brought a bodyguard to this meeting. But maybe he hadn’t expected Decker to ever go against him.
“Or I could show mercy.” Peele shrugged one shoulder of his pin-striped suit. “If you intend to leave town, what do you need?”
“Funds wired to a bank account in Mexico. I already set it up. I’ll cross the border, get the money, disappear.”
“And if these friends of Ruby Whitestone still come bothering me?”
“They can’t if I’m not here. I’m the only tie. I was careful.”
“As you usually are, Decker. I know. This situation has become a nuisance through no fault of your own. So you’re right, I owe it to you to help.”
“Thank you, sir. I won’t forget this.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” Peele walked toward the door.
Chase reared back. Shit. He dashed into an open doorway just before Peele stepped out into the hall.
Chase retreated further into the shadows of the office. Peele walked by, his heavy shoes thumping against the concrete floor.
Seconds later, Decker followed, lumbering past. He could barely put his arms down at his sides, they were so overly muscled.
When Decker had gone, Chase exhaled.
Peele had ordered Mickey’s death, and Decker had carried it out.
Chase was going to write an affidavit with what he’d heard, and it would probably be enough to support a wiretap and search warrants.
And now that they knew their suspect was Decker, their witness from the cake shop could identify him in a photo lineup.
Tag Bailor might also be more willing to share what he knew.
This was the biggest break they’d had in Ruby’s case.
Now Chase had to get back to Ruby and Noah before they drew too much attention. Only a few minutes had passed. Thank goodness Noah hadn’t caught up to him yet.
Chase left the office and crept down the hall. He turned at the intersection, listening for the roar of the crowd watching the fight. He saw the same offices as before, the same shadows.
Then a different shape loomed into his path.
Conrad Decker had just stepped out of a doorway, glowering.
“I thought I heard someone. Who the fuck are you?”
All he could do was play dumb. “Sorry, what? I was just looking for the bathroom.”
“You’re that cop, aren’t you?” Decker’s huge hand closed on Chase’s shoulder. The fighter threw Chase into the doorway he’d stepped out of.
Chase stumbled into the room. It had rows of desks inside. He pivoted to face the other man.
“You’ve got the wrong guy. Let’s just talk this—”
Decker’s fist caught Chase in the stomach. He stumbled backward into a desk.
Fuck, that hurt.
The giant’s fist pulled back again, this time aiming for Chase’s head. Chase ducked beneath the guy’s arm. He heard the whistle of that massive fist passing by him in the air.
Decker let out a bellow and turned, charging for him again.
Chase grabbed for anything he could find. His hand landed on a rusty stapler. He chucked it. Decker batted it away. Then the same with a three-ring binder. Papers scattered.
Chase heaved a chair in Decker’s path, but the guy just kept coming. I could really use a taser or my baton right now, he thought. Or his gun. He’d never discharged his weapon before—that paperwork was a nightmare—but this occasion would’ve been worth the headache.
Another blow caught Chase in the side, knocking the wind out of him. And this whole scenario wasn’t remotely cute anymore. He was getting pissed. He wheezed, trying to get his lungs going again.
Decker took a few more swings. Chase bobbed out of the way, gasping for breath. But his eyes tracked his opponent’s movements.
Decker wasn’t a technical fighter. He relied on his own brute strength.
Chase was never going to match this guy’s size, which meant he had to be faster, smarter.
Or maybe just a hell of a lot more vicious.
Chase lunged. He drove his fist into Decker’s solar plexus. But Decker barely seemed to feel it, even though that hit would’ve put a regular sized person on the ground.
Okay. So that hadn’t worked. Plan B.
Suddenly, there was movement behind Decker. Someone brought a metal waste can up and smacked Decker in the head.
Fucking hell. It was Ruby.
“Come and get me, asshole!” she screamed.
The guy had barely flinched. Decker looked behind him, slowly turning his massive shoulders.
He was about to go after Ruby.
Chase leaped onto his back, forearm barring across Decker’s throat in a chokehold.
Decker fell to his knees. He reached back, trying to grab hold of Chase. But Chase kicked against the ground, throwing his weight forward. Decker toppled like a tree. Crashed to the floor. Chase lay on the man’s back, trying to keep Decker pinned. His forearm tightened against the man’s windpipe.
Decker bucked beneath him and roared and clawed.
Chase could barely hold on.
Ruby was screaming something, but he couldn’t make out the words. It took every ounce of energy and will to keep Decker down.
This man had made Ruby’s life hell. Chase wasn’t going to let him hurt her anymore.
Decker’s movements slowed. The fight was going out of him.
Then suddenly, there were a lot more people in the room. Flashlight beams and shouts and gleams of metal.
“LAPD! Get down on the ground!”
Police were swarming, pointing guns, yelling. Chase held up his hands, panting to catch his breath.
Decker slumped forward, coughing and retching.
Then Noah Vandermeer strode through the door. “He’s a cop, so everyone chill. He’s with me.”