a Touch of Ice (28 page)

I fiddled and wiggled, barely touching the bobby pin while I focused on the image Pierce left on the lock at my childhood home. And then, click. Halfway there. One more and it would be open. I sat back, giving my trembling arms a break. With my wrists duct taped together, it was impossible to get a good angle at the lock. One breath. Two. Back to work.

The second click came within seconds. I fumbled the doorknob, cracked the door open, and peered out. Didn’t see anyone. Stuck my head out, looked around. Empty bedroom with the door open. I could see into the living area, and it was clear. The need to run tugged at me, and it was all I could do to force my feet to move slowly, quietly. No telling what was beyond the living area of the plane.

My feet sunk into the plush carpet, and the smell of kerosene wafted toward me from the open door. Nothing ever smelled so good—the scent of freedom. Almost.

There were two closed doors beyond the central living area of the plane, and anything or anyone could be behind them. Also, they would probably check on me again. Probably soon. I needed to move, and soundlessly would be good. I inched across the room toward the door, heart banging against my breastbone.

Clear. No one on the steps, no one around at all. Freaky. Once I cleared the doorway, I’d need to move quickly, and getting down those steps without using the handrail was going to be tricky. I couldn’t wait. Had to move before someone with a gun showed up to stop me.

I went for it, stumbled down the stairs, stubbing my toe twice and scraping the bottom of my feet on the rough treads. No one stopped me. The kerosene-tainted air tasted like freedom on my tongue until I rounded the base of the stairs and smacked right into Shaved Head. Hard.

“How’d…shit woman, you got no sense.” He pushed me down on the bottom step with enough force to bruise my tailbone. “Stay, or I break your neck.”

I sucked in a few breaths, tried to get my mind to function. Body odor and garlic assaulted my nose. My stomach heaved, and I tipped my head to look up at Shaved Head. Nope. My neck wasn’t gonna move that way. The muscles were locked, probably from the hits I took when West and Shaved Head battered me. I motioned him down. “Need a minute, feeling sick,” I whispered as my eyes darted around the area searching for an escape route.

We were in an isolated section of the airport, the plane attached to the steps I was sitting on was parked just outside a small hangar. All of it probably belonged to West. This was not looking good.

I tried to bring my hands up to see how much movement I could get away with when I spotted Pierce blending into the shadows along the side of the hanger, barely visible.

Yes!
So why wasn’t he shooting these scum bags? Surely it couldn’t be that difficult to aim and fire.

And where was Annie?

Since he was okay, she probably was too. This whole thing was beginning to piss me off. They’d let that son of a bitch get near me. Didn’t shoot him, and I really needed to get this duct tape off my wrists. It was beginning to itch.

Shaved Head started to reach for me again. It must have been one too many assaults on my person because my mind went south, a red haze clouded my vision, and I totally lost it. Yanked my arms down, focused on the edge of his chin, and straightened my arms with every ounce of strength I had left.

A satisfying
crack
sounded as the heels of my bound hands connected with his jaw. I curled my fingers in and dug my nails into his cheeks. Blood spurted from his mouth and he crumpled, landing partly on me and partly on the tarmac.

My arms shook with pain from the effort, and I had to clench my fingers to control the tremors. Didn’t matter. It had been a good hit. Solid. I swiped at the blood that had sprayed on my face, a moment of euuww knotting my stomach. But only for a moment. I kept my eye on him as I attempted to push his inert form off me. Blood was seeping from his mouth. Must have bitten his tongue, or maybe I loosened some teeth.

Satisfaction poured through me like a life-giving elixir. Damn, but it was good to be the one in control. I had to guess that Shaved Head’s chin had been in the right spot for me to land a perfect uppercut. Accidental, but I was taking credit. Damn, but I was taking credit.

Not that the moment lasted.

West had left the hangar and was lurching toward me, weapon drawn. I shoved harder at Shaved Head, trying to untangle myself from his inert lump of a body, my eyes trained on West and the gun. He seemed serious about using the weapon, and since it was pointed in my direction, it captured my full attention.

His gaze moved up, behind me and to the right. He froze, blanched. I twisted, craning my neck in time to see the flash of a gunshot. It took a minute to register that Annie held the weapon, and then the sharp double echo of the shot shattered the quiet. Time delay. All within less than a second.

I turned back, a wave of dizzy hitting me. Probably shouldn’t have twisted around. West had landed on the ground next to me, a bullet hole placed neatly in the center of his forehead. Dead. Human. No catlike features. My gaze flew to his hands. From my position, I could only glimpse part of one hand, but what I could see appeared normal. Short fingernails.

Blood pooled on the tarmac under his head. I fought my hands free from under Shaved Head, ran my fingers along my neck. It was shallow and small, but definitely a puncture wound. Now that West was dead, I’d never know for sure. But he wasn’t…human. I
knew
he wasn’t, even if there would never be any proof. I
knew
.

The combined scent of gun powder and blood sent my belly into spasm and I gagged.

“You all right?” Annie asked as she bent down, rolled Shaved Head off me, and cuffed him.

I stayed on the ground, limp as a dishrag. “Yeah, good.” I swallowed down the nausea. “I’m good.” She slid a knife from somewhere and cut my wrists free. I twisted to look up at her, and then blessedly lost consciousness.

The reprieve must have only lasted a few seconds because when I opened my eyes nothing had changed except that Annie’s face was creased in a frown.

“How?” I croaked.

She grinned. “We have our ways. You’ll be okay. I promise.” She shook her head, reached out and touched my shoulder. “It took a lot of years off my life to see Pestorelli pull you out of that car.”

“It wasn’t so good getting in the car, either.”

She squinted at me, bent to help me sit up. “We’ll talk about how that happened after I help Pierce with clean up.”

Adam’s Crown Vic slid to a halt in front of us. Mitch flew out of the passenger side, dropped to the ground next to me, and wrapped his arms around me. “Sunshine.” His breath was warm against my ear. Comforting. I came that close to never seeing him, touching him, ever again. I couldn’t stop the tears and snuggled into his chest, held on tight.

He crooned nonsensical things, planted gentle kisses against my neck, and stroked the tension from my back and shoulders. I breathed in the scent of him, let it wash through me replacing the smell of gunpowder and the stench of demons. And wondered that he didn’t notice the puncture wound. My imagination. Surely it wasn’t my imagination. “My neck?”

“There’s some dried blood, but no open cuts. You’ll be all right, Sunshine. We’ll get through this.” His words were stretched thin, the worry evident. No way could share my theory about West being a shape-shifter.

“Donny?” I finally asked.

“Shoulder wound. Nothing serious. He’ll be sent back to New York with enough charges to keep his Mama and their lawyers busy for a while.”

Adam strolled over from where he’d been standing next to West, tossed Mitch his car keys. “For when you’re ready to go. I’ll grab a ride with a uniform.” He dropped his arm across Annie’s shoulders. “Clean shot, Sis.”

Annie nodded, her face a closed mask.

“Did you Mirandize Pestorelli?”

“Not yet. El was more important.”

Pierce jogged toward us. “Hanson needs to be Mirandized too. I caught him in the shoulder when he tried to run.”

He grinned at me, held up his hand for a high five. “Nice job with the uppercut.”

“Thanks, better job with picking the bathroom lock.” I beamed at him, then frowned. “Why’d it take you so long to shoot him?” My gaze darted between them. “Both of you? West was just standing around and nobody shot him. I don’t get it.” I pulled away from Mitch and threw up my hands.

“We didn’t want to start shooting when there were three of them holding guns on you. And then you cracked Pestorelli’s jaw and it gave us the opening we needed.” Pierce shot me a grin. “And we wanted to gather as much intel as we could, trace and shut down as many arms of his operation as possible.”

I ran my hands through my hair, pushing it off my face. Exhaustion was quickly replacing the adrenalin rush, and I leaned into Mitch. “Home,” I pleaded faintly.

He started to answer but was interrupted by the approach of several emergency vehicles, lights flashing, sirens wailing. Chief Hayes got out of one, headed toward the four of us, shaking his head. “I’ll need statements. Annie and Pierce, now. Hunt and Gray, tomorrow morning will do.” He was all business except for the twinkle in his eyes. He laid his hand on my shoulder. “I hear an atta girl is in order.”

I glanced longingly at Adam’s car. “Not so much. Annie and Pierce, they did the hard part. Any reason we can’t go home now?”

“My office. Tomorrow. Eight sharp.” He looked me over. “You might want to detour by Urgent Care, get checked out.”

I shook my head, just to prove I didn’t need anyone poking and prodding at it. There was no way I was going to do anything but take some aspirin, crawl into a shower and then bed. I hoped Annie realized it would be her shower and bed since I probably didn’t have a front door or a back window, to say nothing of the missing back deck.

I looked around to remind her, but she was busy with Pierce on the far side of the hangar. Oh, well, she’d figure it out when she got home.

I shut out everything but the warmth from Mitch’s hand as he helped me into the car.

Thirty

I moved with care the next morning, stretching each muscle, taking time to rejoice in being alive. The tangled sheets told the story of a restless night with too much going through my mind. The good news: no nightmares, and the warmth of Mitch’s body still clung to the sheets.

Yesterday changed me. How could it not? Knowing I was
that
close to dying and then having Monster Man shot to death. Practically at my feet. It messed with my mind—and just about every other part of me. Death is messy in oh so many ways.

No one noticed the puncture wound on my neck. It wasn’t visible, only a slight raised area under the skin. I could find it with the tip of my finger because I knew it was there. Hardly important, considering the rest of yesterday. But I would always wonder.

Crazy world. But at least I wasn’t sitting at home anymore, wasn’t watching the world from my window, touching only when I could control the situation.

And I finally understood the vision. At first, I’d thought the melting ice cube was a symbol for the diamonds, but no, it was all about change. Liquid to solid to gas. The deal was that I had to be flexible, to accept the vapor that’s my gift. The part of me no one else can see. The solid of my body and the liquid of my mind were easy, but my gift, not so much. No one could see that part and it’s what made me an outsider, a recluse. I’d jumped in with both feet; I wasn’t sinking. At least I didn’t think I was. Hard to tell since I hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.

“Sunshine?” Mitch took a minute to check me out, then sat on the bed and gathered me in his arms. He had on gray sweats—a threadbare pair without much else. I knew because I slid my hand under his waistband and found warm skin. My lips curved against his shoulder. “I’m guessing you’re here to tell me it’s past time for me to get up. I smell coffee and breakfast. And you. It’s possible the scent of you is becoming as important as coffee.”

“You think?” He grinned, picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. I was standing under the shower before I had a chance to react. I pulled off my wet boxers and tank, wrung them out, and dropped them on the floor outside the shower. I read his grin as a dare since he stayed within reach. Heat spread through me, settled between my legs. I curled my fingers into his waistband and a second later, his sweat pants were pooled around his ankles and the playful grin had turned into blatant lust. Oh yeah. A girl could get used to this whole relationship thing.

He tugged off his sweatshirt and dug a condom out of his duffle. I reached for the soap and then for his wrist, pulled him into the shower and trailed wet, soapy hands down his chest. And then playful changed to intense.

“You were almost killed yesterday.” Mitch’s words punched through the sound of the shower and rasped against my ears with a sudden intensity.

Blood surged through my veins, and I trembled with the need to feel every inch of his body, to claim it. And to claim life. “Now. I need you right now.”

He backed me against the shower stall, hard, his need evident in the tremor in his hands, the set of his jaw, and the power flashing behind his eyes. My legs found their way around his waist, and all coherent thought evaporated as our bodies fought for release. We marked each other’s skin with our combined scent—with lips, tongues, teeth, fingers—every touch a demand for more.

Thirty minutes later, drained and sated, we were dressed and ready for the day. Both of us casual in jeans and t-shirts. Maybe not the most professional way to meet with Chief Hayes, but hey, we’d just come off a bloody horrific night. And profound sex.

Mitch grabbed my hand as I followed the aroma of fresh-baked muffins to the kitchen. He tucked a finger under my chin, brought his lips down to rest against mine in a gentle kiss. “You okay? That was fast. Intense.”

“Well, yeah.” I pressed against him. “We do good sex. Whatever the mood.”

He caught my hand, brought my palm to his mouth, and flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin. “I’m not complaining, just want to know you’re okay.”

“Better than okay. Hungry though.” I captured his hand and headed for the kitchen and breakfast.

“Morning, Annie.” I reached for a bottle of aspirin and a cup—in that order—then poured myself some coffee. There was a big bowl of fruit on the table and a basket of just-baked muffins. Looked and smelled like cranberry. My fave.

“So, looks like the two of you worked up an appetite.”

Mitch grinned, leaning to plant a kiss on Annie’s cheek. “You could say that. Great soap you have in that shower. Stimulating.”

I elbowed him, felt my cheeks turning warm. Time to change the topic. I pulled out a chair, plopped down, and grabbed a muffin.

“Were you okay last night? I know it was brutal yesterday, and then staying here instead of at your own place. But with the broken front door and mess over there—” Annie’s voice washed through my embarrassment, brought me back to the reality of what went down.

“I tossed around a lot. Too much on my mind from yesterday, the whole week really. Do you realize how little time has actually passed since I—”

“Touched a bunch of stuff you had no business touching.” Mitch took my hand, cradled it in his. “Maybe we should take out an insurance policy on your fingers. Considering your curiosity and unerring ability to find trouble, seems like that’d be a good plan. Besides, without them we may never have found Tony’s killers and it would have taken considerably longer to make the connection to Delano West.” He planted gentle kisses along the tips of my fingers. “It could be that I’m beginning to see them from a whole new perspective.”

I looked over at Annie when he mentioned West’s name. It’s not your everyday line of work, being a sniper, even if your boss is the government—more or less.

She caught my look. “I’m okay. Remember this is something I trained for. I don’t like it. That’s why I’m retired. On the other hand, after studying him for years, I know firsthand about the evil Delano West held inside. Maybe now we can find some peace—Shelly especially.”

I nodded. “We’re probably all heading for serious post-traumatic stress and should be actively looking for an appropriate shrink. Is Shelly back home?”

“Yep, I spoke with her late last night and she’s doing okay. Better than I expected. Mentioned she’d call you for an appointment in a couple weeks.”

I finished up the last bite of muffin and downed my coffee. “We both need recovery time, and she needs to finish her work with Lisa Shaffer before we meet again.” I glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t we be on our way to the see Chief Hayes?”

Annie shook her head. “No. Actually, the Chief changed his mind and doesn’t want you anywhere near his office until this blows over. Turns out, the media got wind of what happened. Anyway, Hayes sent the paperwork home with me last night.” She pointed to a red folder sitting on the counter.

I froze with my napkin halfway to my mouth. “The media? I didn’t notice any reporters.”

“They were on the scene,” she said, glancing over at the kitchen counter where the morning paper sat.

“What? Is there something in the paper?”

“They got a picture of you.” She sounded resigned.

Mitch snagged the paper, spread it open on the table.

“Oh…my. Well, maybe you really can’t tell it’s me with the wild hair and stunned expression. The picture’s kind of blurry. I’ve been thinking about a trip to somewhere—anywhere would be nice.”

Annie looked amused. “They didn’t get your name yet, so your secret is still safe—much to the Chief’s relief.”

Mitch slid his arm around my shoulder. “You have the perfect reason to be ‘not available.’ With your kitchen and deck under construction, no one will expect you to be here and reporters have notoriously short attention spans.”

Annie grabbed a muffin, peeled the paper wrapper off. “Just don’t go getting a reputation for this kind of thing.”

Mitch’s phone rang, sharp, jarring in the hominess of Annie’s kitchen. He checked the number and blew out a frustrated sigh before he went into the living room to take the call.

“Huh,” I mumbled, “looks like he picked up another assignment.”

“Looks like. Better get that paperwork signed. Adam will be here soon to pick it up.”

I finished reading and signing just as Pierce and Adam walked into the kitchen. “You all right, El?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, although you all could have been a little quicker getting the knight-in-shining-armor routine in gear. Did any of you notice whether West had long fingernails?”

“Fingernails?” They responded in unison.

“Yeah. Did you look at the body? I had a scratch on my neck and thought it might have come from when he tried to strangle me.” I hated asking, but I couldn’t get a good angle at the airport to check out his thumbs, and I had to know.

Violet’s eyes narrowed under a wrinkled brow. “You’re thinking claws, aren’t you? You haven’t been able to shake the image of West as a cat.”

I lifted my shoulders in an awkward shrug. “No. I mean, I know he looked human and there’s no way to prove otherwise, but there was blood on my neck.”

Annie held my gaze. “You were cut in several places, Everly. There was blood, and I’m not sure anyone noticed the exact source.”

She wanted me to be sane. A concept I clung to, but… “Is there going to be an autopsy?”

Adam huffed. “Autopsy? Yes. Didn’t notice his hands, but your neck looks fine. No marks. Are you sure he scratched you?”

Time to let this one go, El. West is dead and whatever theory you have, you’ll never know the answer. It’s probably best that way
.
More sane
. “Things were…stressful, so I probably mixed stuff up in my mind. Maybe he didn’t scratch me.”

I handed the folder to Adam, dug Shelly’s ring out of my pocket, and tossed it to him. A distraction. No point in pursuing any of the oddities about West, especially when they would only make me look certifiable. “Shelly’s engagement ring,” I said by way of explanation. “I’m guessing it’s probably evidence.”

Adam caught it, dropped it in his pocket. “Yep. Where’s—?”

“Mitch’s paperwork,” Annie finished for him as she slid another folder into his hand.

“Good.” Adam gave Annie a long look. “You heading out with Pierce?”

“Um-hum. We have some loose ends to clean up.”

“Yeah, you do.” He gave each of us girls hugs, shared a minute of silent communication with Pierce, and then disappeared down the stairs.

My gaze tracked between Annie and Pierce. “I have a question—one I don’t really want to think about, but it keeps nagging at the back of my mind.”

Pierce reached around me for a muffin. “Go.”

“Why do you suppose they stunned me instead of just shooting me? Both Shaved Head and Pudgy had guns, real guns. They didn’t hesitate to use them on Donny, why not on me?”

Annie rocked back on her heels and hooked her hands in her back pockets. I stayed silent, waiting. They’d taught me well about the value of silence. Finally, Annie sighed and looked at me, eyes hard, jaw clenched. “That’s another reason I have no regrets about taking the shot that killed West. He wanted to play with you, El. He wanted you to suffer, to slowly suck the life out of you just like he did Shelly. He was using both of you to get to me.”

“Huh? How?”

“When we arrived at the hangar yesterday, West didn’t meet the car.”

“Yes, I know that part,” I cut in impatiently. “The empty car really threw him. Me too.”

“It gave Pierce and me—” her eyes moved to include him— “a chance to take cover and gather information.” She took a deep breath. “West didn’t come after me because he knew I’d find him.”

Annie glanced at Pierce. “Arnie Scott had some things to say. West planned to kill Shelly. He sent Pestorelli and Freddie Hanson to pick you up. Wanted you to watch. West liked to control people. He planned to replace Shelly with you.”

“Me?” I shuddered. “Why me?”

Pierce picked up the story, his voice flat. “He knew A.J. would come after you. He would probably have spent some…time with her before he killed her. Both the torture and kill would have been at his hands.”

I shuddered, cold.

He laid his hand on my shoulder. “West was after you, El. Scott is the one who shot you. He described you and A.J. to West after the incident. West knew if he had you, A.J. would show up, would follow him to Paris. He used you as bait.”

“Bait? Shit.”

My eyes darted between them. “So…they were…watching me?”

“Pestorelli was watching Donny. He was a loose end that West wanted taken care of. Donny led him straight to you.”

“And Messy set my house on fire? Why?”

Pierce went still. “He’d planned to flush you both out that night. Wanted to deliver you to West. Thought it would make up for losing the bag of diamonds. Arnie’s mean but not too bright.”

“Okay. I needed to know that, don’t understand why since it’s making my knees weak, but I needed to hear it.” I swallowed a deep breath. “How long will you be gone?”

Annie shot a look at Pierce, then shrugged. “I’ll call when I’m on my way home.”

I looked at her, steady, sure. “You saved my life.”