7. Chapter 7
Boots pound up the stairs at the same time the elevator whirs into motion. I’m fucking trapped and while the Jury has the cops in its pocket, this is Reno, not Sagebrush and the Chief here won’t ignore a murder like this one. I got maybe a minute to figure out what to do.
I yank out my bandana again and try every fucking door handle on the floor. None are unlocked. I’m thinking of kicking one in when I hear a creak. I turn to see a woman peeking out her door. It’s all I need. I barrel into her, twisting her around so her back’s against my chest and covering her mouth with my hand. Something brushes between my legs as I kick the door shut. Fucking Spot turns and sits, his tail wagging, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. The woman in my arms struggles as the cops thunder to the top of the stairs.
“Don’t even breathe,” I hiss in her ear as I wait for Spot to kick up a fuss. Instead, he circles around a couple of times, then heaves himself down on the floor with a sigh.
The woman, on the other hand, is not nearly as calm. Her chest is double-timing and she’s gasping for breath, but she’s not fighting me, which is good. I make it a rule not to kill innocents. I struggle with the bolt on the door because it’s behind me, finally get it turned, then move the woman to the middle of the living room.
She’s crying now, tears running down her face and I feel like the biggest shit in the world. “I’m gonna take my hand away from your mouth, but you scream, it’ll be the last thing you do in this life. Nod if you get me?”
I hate that I’m threatening her, but I need her compliance and fast.
She nods quickly.
I slowly remove my hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Okay,” she sniffles.
“What’s your name?”
Her eyes flit to Spot then back to me. “Amber.”
“Amber. You live alone?”
She hesitates and I shake her. “Don’t lie to me. I won’t be happy.”
“Yes.”
“Good. You gotta trust me, yeah?” It’s stupid because she’s gonna agree with everything I say. I’ve still got my arms around her, her back against my chest, breathing in her ear.
“Yeah,” she says per my prediction.
“Whatever’s goin’ on out there has nothin’ to do with me. I came to see a friend, found him dead and was about to call the cops, but someone else already did.”
Her voice trembles. “Why didn’t you stay and talk to them?”
“Should’ve maybe but got worried they were gonna arrest me.” There’s no fucking way I could’ve hung around to talk to them. My ass would be thrown in the slammer so fast I’d get vertigo. With my record, they’d pin the murder on me and stop lookin’ for the real killer.
“I’m doing what you asked. Can you let me go?”
I want to, I really do. “No.”
As I walk her to her bedroom, I tell her again that I’m not going to hurt. Her feet start to drag and I think she’s afraid I’m going to rape her. “Listen, Amber. The cops are gonna talk to you later and they’re gonna ask if you saw anyone and you’re gonna tell them about me.”
“I won’t,” she says, panic shortening her breaths. “I promise.”
“You ain’t gonna keep that promise and I got no problem with that. I’d do the same if I was in your shoes. I need time, so I’m gonna tie you up and gag you, but that’s all. I’m not gonna do anything else, okay?”
As she nods, I stuff my bandana in her mouth and she jerks and starts to struggle, but I hold her in a bear hug.
“Let me do what I have to do. I’ll loosen the knots just before I leave so you can get free.”
I force her face down on the mattress, then rip a sheet up and tie her hands behind her back and her ankles together. I take the bandana out of her mouth and replace it with a rolled-up piece of sheet, then wrap another strip of material around it, binding it at the back of her head.
She’s watching me like she’s committing me to memory. Not for the first time, I thank god I had the presence of mind to leave my bike and cut behind. I look like an average guy. Jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt that covers the tats. Hair’s a bit long and I need a shave. Nothing about me stands out. Except the fucking dog, but he’ll be keeping Amber company long after I’m gone.
“I’m leaving you here,” I tell her as I head to the door. “But you remember, I’m a man of my word. Might be a couple of hours before I can go, so I’ll check on you every now and again.”
Tension leaks from my shoulders as I head back to the main room. I check the bolt on the door making sure I’ve fully engaged it, then park my ass on the couch. Spot jumps up beside me and settles his head on my lap. I close my eyes as I listen to the commotion out in the hall. Loud voices, the metallic sound of chatter over radios. Thumping of feet on the stairs and the whine of the elevator.
What the fuck just happened?
It doesn’t take intelligence to take the leap from the convo I had yesterday with little Miss Personality and what happened here tonight. She appeared out of nowhere, claiming to be Belmonte’s daughter and I took her at her word. Why the fuck wouldn’t I? She was convincing and had nerves of steel. Attractive enough to get me sidetracked.
She set me up. Saw me coming a mile away. I’m a patsy.
The question is why, but I’m so fuckin’ furious I can’t think straight.
I think about calling Hangman, the prez of my club, but figure I’ll wait until we can have a face to face because I’m gonna have to explain why I was doing a personal job. Hangman doesn’t like it when our personal lives clash with our club lives. Guess, given X’s approach, using our protection racket as an excuse, this was more club related. Of course, it was supposed to be an in and out.
And now I’m gonna have to wait until the cops leave, which might be hours.
I look down at Spot and give his ear a scratch. “We gotta be ready in case Amber has a boyfriend stopping by.”
And of course, there will be the inevitable knock on the door as the uniforms canvas the neighbors, but no one will be home when they come knocking on Amber’s door. If the cops or someone else saw me push my way inside here, they would have already battered down the door, maybe shot me in the head and rescued the damsel tied up in the bedroom.
“They’d shoot you too, you ugly mutt,” I tell Spot. “Wouldn’t risk you being vicious.” I snort a laugh.
I think about Paul Belmonte. He would never do something like this, no matter how pissed he was with the Jury. And he’d certainly never use his daughter as a means to an end unless he didn’t know she was doing it.
I consider it from that angle. X is a fuckin’ good actress, because I fell for her song and dance like a horny teenager. The big question is why she targeted me?
Surely not because Paulie was paying protection to the Jury and even if she was determined to be daddy’s avenging angel, torturing and killing Miguel is way over the top. She didn’t seem like a psychopath. Maybe borderline, but not full blown.
Maybe it was a bullshit story. Miguel cheating on her. Maybe she and her psycho friends or some other fuck wanted Miguel dead and me out of the way. They might have had a good reason to kill the ex. But me, I can’t think of a fucking thing that puts me in the line of fire. Personally, anyway. It might be someone striking back against the Jury. Lord knows we have more enemies than we can count, but this seems a convoluted way of going about it.
Why the effort to get me arrested? Why not just put a bullet through my brain?
Spot drops down off the couch and heads to the kitchen, whining.
“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper as I follow him. Who keeps a fucking dog this size in an apartment anyway? And on the seventh floor. You’d wear out running Spot up and down the stairs so he could take a crap. “Don’t pee on the floor. They’ll DNA you.”
I find a bowl in a cupboard and fill it with water. “Drink and get done,” I growl.
Spot sucks the water up like the Jury’s doc, Dicer, sucks back whiskey. When the bowl is empty, he sniffs me like I have a stick of pepperoni in my pocket. “Go lay down. You ain’t getting fed.”
I pick up the bowl and return it to the cupboard it came from, then head back to the couch. Spot follows and jumps up before me, waiting for me to sit down. I sigh as I heave myself down next to him. It’s going to be long fucking night.
I close my eyes and lean my head against the back of the couch as Spot nuzzles my hand. I scratch his ears as my mind engages again.
Maybe X is Paulie’s daughter or sister or even his goddamned girlfriend. Maybe they’re both psychopaths. Or maybe it’s a coincidence. X wanting me to do something about Miguel, me showing up to find him dead just before the cops arrive. No, that’s so fucking convenient it doesn’t ring true. But if it is, then what the fuck did Miguel do to get himself killed the way he did? And is X in the line of fire?
The more time I have to think, the angrier I become. It doesn’t help that I’m locked in this fucking firetrap with no means of escape. No one’s knocked on the door yet, but it’s gotta be coming. I need a way out.
Two hours later, things are starting to settle down out in the hall. Seems like the worst is over and I figure I can talk my way past any cops still hanging around.
“How you doin’ Amber?” I say as I return to her bedroom.
She’s shifted so she’s on her side and looks at me with wet red eyes.
Guilt almost gets me untying her, but I shelve it. She’s gonna survive this encounter, a little worse for wear. Have a few nightmares maybe. Can’t be helped.
I open her closet to discover a few men’s clothes that I can wear to make me look less like a thug. A bomber jacket that’s tight around the shoulders and runners that are too fuckin’ small.
“You need to break up with this loser,” I tell her as I shove my boots, gun, holster, knife, and key chain into a backpack I find in the corner of the closet.
Back in the kitchen, I go through Amber’s purse and find her ID. Her last name is O’Toole. I grab her keys off the counter, take the cute Mickey Mouse chain off the key ring and decide which one locks the door. Not hard to figure out. I limp to the door in the too tight shoes and take a breath.
No hobbling in front of the cops, I think. Then I check my watch. Time is 2:30 AM.
Why am I leaving in the middle of the night? Okay, got it. I sling open the door and step out. Goosebumps make the hair on my arms stand up as I turn my back on the fuckin’ cops who are standing in the hall. Before I can lock the door, Spot slithers through the small gap.
Goddamn mutt!
This is becoming a clusterfuck. I look down as he looks up, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth makin’ it look like he’s smiling. He’s got a fucking collar with a tag around his neck. I’m an idiot. I should’ve checked to see if he was wearing any identification, but for fucks sake, I wasn’t planning on taking the mutt with me.
I glare at him as I lock the door, then turn to the cops guarding Miguel’s apartment. They’re in uniform and young, both of which will work in my favor.
They’re watching me, but there’s no tension or aggression coming off them.
Don’t kill a cop, I tell myself. Don’t kill a fuckin’ cop.
Cool as shit, I wander up to them, Spot following me like I’m a hambone. “What’s going on?” I crane my neck to see inside.
The tall one moves to block the view. “You a neighbor of Miguel Ramos?”
I shake my head. “Neighbor’s boyfriend. Just heading out to pick her up from work.”
Spot rubs his head against my hand.
I give him a scratch like I actually like him. “He’s gotta pee. Figured I’d kill two stones with one throw.” Fuck, I’m more rattled than I thought. “I mean two birds with one stone.”
“How come you didn’t come out when you heard the commotion?” he asks.
Good fucking question. “Didn’t hear it. Playing video games. Noise cancelling earphones.”
“Expensive ones are good,” he says.
“Present from the girlfriend. Can’t hear her either, which is a bonus.” I wince inwardly. The douche clothes I’m wearing are rubbing off on me.
The shorter cop smirks as he pulls out his notebook. “Name?”
“Amber O’Toole is the girlfriend,” I reply. “Mine’s Jax Kincaid. Jaxon.” I use my formal name because it’ll look suspicious if they want to check my ID and it doesn’t match. It’s not really a risk right now, but eventually they’ll run it and discover who I really am. Then shit will hit the fan.
“And where does Miss O’Toole work?”
“Nurse at Willow Springs. Just wrapping up her shift.” I make a show of looking at my watch. “Stuck working overtime again. The money’s good but she’s wearing out. The government has to get their shit together and do something about the shortage.”
I’m such a good old boy that the tall cop nods. “Got a sister in Laughlin who has the same problem. Always getting called in to work. She’s burning out.”
I’m Mr. Cool. “Yeah. Amber’s talking about looking elsewhere. Crazy, huh? They can’t get the help they need, but the nurses they do have are quitting all over the place.”
“Vicious circle,” the other cop says.
As if on cue, Spot whines and paws at my leg
Good boy, I think as I look down at him. “I better go or he’ll shit on the floor. And Amber’ll be tired and pissed off if I’m late. I don’t want her taking it out on me.”
“We’re going to need to talk to you and her.”
I shrug. “No problem, but can it wait until tomorrow? We can come into the station after lunch if that works.”
The short cop digs into his pocket and hands me a card. “When you’re up and moving, give me a call. I’ll come over.”
“Thanks man,” I say with a smile. I peek into the apartment as I walk by them. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough what’s going on with Miguel.”
Then I turn, stroll down the stairs in measured steps and don’t stop until I’m blocks from the apartment building. Neither does the dog. “Fuckin’ shoes,” I mutter as I rip them off my feet and put on my boots.
Spot lifts his leg and pees on a lamp post.
I watch him while I think of my next move. X will think I’ve been arrested by now, so she won’t immediately be looking over her shoulder. Yeah. She’s my first stop.
I head to my truck and the goddamn dog scrambles after me.
“You aren’t fuckin’ coming.” I point my finger at him as I pull my keys from my pocket. “Stay!”
Spot sits and pants.
“Good fucking dog,” I mutter as I unlock the door. When I yank it open, Spot slides under my arm and jumps into the cab.
“For fuck’s sake,” I snarl as he settles into the passenger seat. “I’m gonna make a fucking coat out of you.”
That doesn’t seem to faze him. I slide behind the wheel and start the truck, then check my watch. 2:30. I’ll stop at the bakery first, then if X isn’t there, her apartment.