Chapter Twenty-Three
Tarzana, Los Angeles, California
Six-one-three-four. Kit glanced up at Sam before she hit the asterisk key to finish the code and unlock the warehouse’s rear door. Sam nodded once, expression grim.
Thank you, she mouthed, and he smiled, his eyes filled with that emotion she was too terrified to name.
Star. She pressed the final button, and the lock whirred, then clicked. Carefully, she opened the door just wide enough for the two of them to slip through.
Eyes on Akiko. That was the plan until reinforcements arrived. There was no way she was allowing her sister to be hurt in the crossfire.
I’m coming. Hold on a little longer.
She moved warily down the unlit hall. It took a moment for her eyes to get used to the darkness, but once they had, she moved with more confidence.
She could feel Sam’s heat at her back. He was close. Almost touching.
He’d had her back so many times already. She trusted him with her life.
More importantly, at this moment, she trusted him with Akiko’s life.
They came to a door on the other side of the hallway wall and, holding her gun in a firm grip, she slipped through first. Looking both ways, she nodded at him to follow.
This was the storage area of the warehouse.
It was at least four stories high, the area separated by rows and rows of metal racks that rose at least thirty feet in height.
Each shelf of every rack was filled with boxes shrink-wrapped onto pallets.
The overhead lights were dim, creating shadows everywhere Kit looked.
Kenzo was right. There were too many places to hide.
Keeping to the shadows, she checked the aisles between the racks, row after row, but there was no one around. Where was Kenzo?
Where was Bob?
Where is Akiko?
This feels like a trap.
But she kept going until she’d searched two thirds of the warehouse. She crept across one of the aisles until she came to the end of the row. She paused, drew a silent breath, then edged forward until she could see around the corner.
Her heart stopped.
Akiko.
Her sister sat tied to a straight-backed chair, her long hair trailing behind her, her head tilted at an awkward angle. Her hands were bound in front of her. The ropes that tied her to the chair appeared to be the only thing keeping her upright.
She looked dead.
No, no, no.
Sam’s hand gripped her shoulder, offering his support. “She’s breathing,” he whispered.
Reassured, Kit tamped down her panic and saw that he was right. Akiko’s chest moved in and out with rhythmic breaths. She was alone in the center of an open area. An empty chair sat about five feet in front of her.
Kit guessed that was for Kenzo. She looked over her shoulder at Sam. “Bob’s gone to get Kenzo from the front,” she whispered. “Let’s get her out of here before he comes back.”
He nodded and they left the shadows at a run. Kit pulled her Swiss Army knife from her pocket as she dropped to her knees next to her sister.
Akiko’s head jerked up, her eyes wide. “Kit.”
Kit fumbled the knife in her surprise as a sudden rush of sheer joy filled her. “Are you hurt?”
“A headache. He hit me, then drugged me, but I woke up a while ago. I was pretending to still be out. Where did you come from?”
Kit sawed at the ropes at Akiko’s ankles, conscious of the seconds ticking away. Sam had his pocketknife in his hand as well and was working the ropes that bound Akiko to the chair.
“Bob went to get Kenzo from the front entrance,” Sam said. “We came in through the back. Can you run?”
“Yeah,” Akiko said grimly. “Or I’ll die trying.”
Kit glared up at her. “Not funny.”
“Not kidding,” Akiko shot back. “This is the guy from my first charter. Who is he and why is he doing this?”
Kit had forgotten that Akiko didn’t yet know Bob’s identity. “His name is Bob Fujioka, and he hates Kenzo because Kenzo killed his parents back in the day.”
She’d save the news about Joe being Akiko’s grandfather for once they were out of here.
“Shh,” Sam whispered. “They’re coming back.”
She could hear two male voices, and they were growing louder.
“I appreciate you coming out,” a man said. “I thought this was something you should see.”
That had to be Bob.
“What seems to be the problem?” Kenzo asked.
“Shit,” Kit whispered.
“Go,” Akiko said fiercely. “Hide.”
Kit shook her head hard. “I’m not leaving without you.” She broke through the rope at Akiko’s ankles just as Sam finished cutting the rope around the chair.
Wrists still bound, Akiko stood up and began weaving on her feet. “Dammit.” She tried to take a step but stumbled. “Goddammit.”
Whatever they’d given her hadn’t worn off yet.
Sam didn’t blink. He just hoisted Akiko over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Let’s go.”
He took off at a run, Kit on his heels. They got to the door they’d come through, but it was locked.
Kit yanked on it in desperation, then stopped, making herself breathe.
She looked up at Sam. “We have to hide until Lennox gets here,” she whispered.
They turned to run—and hit a brick wall of a man. He was nearly as big as Ricky Nicchi. Kit had seen him before. He was one of Kenzo’s bodyguards. He’d been at the hospital the day before when Kenzo had first met Akiko. It appeared Kenzo had been right about not being able to trust his people.
The bodyguard had a gun in his hand, and it was pointed at Sam’s chest. “Put your gun down, Detective.” But he didn’t wait for her to do so, instead grabbing her wrist and wrenching the weapon from her hand.
But the bodyguard didn’t go for Sam’s gun. Sam no longer held it. Where had he put it?
Then she remembered the holster he wore at his back. He hadn’t wanted to wear it on his hip. His private practice patients might see it and become alarmed.
Sam hadn’t moved a muscle. He just held on to Akiko, who was starting to gag. Her sister had a notoriously weak stomach and did not do well with anesthesia.
The bodyguard made a face. “What’s wrong with her?”
“You drugged her,” Kit said. “She’s probably gonna puke.”
The man looked like he might do the same. Roughly, he pointed Kit’s own gun at them. “Let’s go back.”
Kit wanted to say no. She wanted Sam to run, to take Akiko and just run.
Instead, she walked back to where Akiko had been held, Sam at her side, Akiko still draped over his shoulder.
The man who’d taken Akiko’s first charter five years ago waited for them by the two chairs. Bob Fujioka held a gun on Kenzo Takahashi, who sat in the other chair. Kenzo tugged at his cuffs and crossed his legs at the knee. He had the appearance of a man who was only mildly irritated.
Kenzo gave the bodyguard escorting Kit, Sam, and Akiko a shake of his head. “I never thought you’d betray me like this, Torrence.”
Torrence shrugged. “He paid me more. Sorry.”
Bob nodded toward the empty chair. “Put her down.” He waited until Sam had lowered Akiko’s feet to the floor, where she began weaving again. Her face alarmingly pale, she gripped the back of the chair to which she’d been tied, determined to remain standing, but Torrence shoved her into the chair.
“You took something that’s mine,” Bob said to Kit. “And you’ve trespassed. Really shameful, considering you’re a cop.”
“I’m suspended,” Kit said blandly. “I don’t have to follow the rules right now.”
Bob laughed. “You’ll follow my rules. Sit, Detective. You’ve crashed my party, so you might as well join us. Have a seat.”
“No chairs. I’ll stand, thank you.”
Torrence shoved her to her knees, then did the same to Sam.
Kit winced, because the jolt hurt her knees and caused pain to shoot up her arm. But she wasn’t going to panic.
Because Lennox was coming.
Bob smiled down at them. “You’re thinking you just have to hold on for a few minutes, right? No. Your friends aren’t coming to help you. They were delayed.”
“By?” Kit asked, starting to panic. A little.
Or maybe a lot.
“Another one of my men. Don’t worry. I told him to make it quick. Your friends felt no pain.”
Kit’s heart rose to fill her throat and she thought she’d be sick. Lennox, Burroughs, and Desoto were dead?
Later. She’d think about them later.
“How did you know they were coming?” she asked.
“My father bugged Kenzo, I bugged my father.”
Kenzo was looking up at Torrence. “Sullivan betrayed me, too?”
“Yep.” Torrence shrugged. “Sorry.”
He was clearly not sorry enough, Kit thought. “Who’s Sullivan?”
“My other bodyguard,” Kenzo said. “How many of my security force did you buy out?” he asked Bob.
“All of them. Took me several years. Had to fire a lot of people before I got a crew who was solely loyal to me. You should have paid them better.”
Kenzo still appeared unruffled. “You wanted me here, Bob. Tell me why.”
Bob looked annoyed. “You already know why. The detective spoiled my surprise when she showed up at your house tonight.”
He seemed like a toddler denied a toy.
“God, you’re all assholes,” Akiko muttered, her glare glacial. “You. Bob. You came on my boat. Twice. Why?”
“The first time was because I could. The second time was to inspect your boat to see if my cargo would fit.”
“Your illegal guns,” Akiko said. “Why me?”
“You were a means to an end,” Bob said simply. “Nothing more. Your arrest would have caused your father pain.”
“He didn’t know I existed until yesterday.”
“He would have found out about you when you got arrested. Do you know that he still keeps a framed picture of your mother next to his bed? Do you know how much you resemble your mother? He would have moved heaven and earth to keep you out of prison. To keep you by his side. I would have cleared you—for a price.”
Kenzo looked angry but still unsurprised. Kit wondered how much of this he’d already figured out. She wondered if Kenzo would have paid that price. She doubted it.
“You wanted his business,” Kit said.
Bob nodded once. “He’d have to hand it over to me with a full endorsement. He would have crawled away knowing that I owned everything that meant something to him.”