Criminal Instinct (11 page)

“This Sam Pike just happens to have connections to various gay/lesbian and S and M clubs throughout the entire Bay Area. Including the Ink Dome. That’s too close a connection to Sal Tyler’s interests not to be checked out. Switch and Jax will head there tonight. Switch received information that the shipment we’re looking for may be coming in by boat. We don’t know how reliable the source is, but I’m feeding it to DEA to see what they come up with.

“Digit, you work with Romeo finding a connection between Pike and suspect Salvador Tyler. Try to get me a lead to Tyler’s porn deals. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth the effort for some info on Tyler. We have shit on him. Garcia’s playing it cautious. There’s been no further contact on Jax’s deal.

“That’s all. You all have your assignments. Get lost.”

Jonas glared out the window of his office above Decadent Art Gallery, unintentionally ignoring Ray’s monotone business reports. He schooled his face with the blank look, a subconscious defense he developed as a teenager facing his abusive father. These days the look occurred whenever he faced something difficult.

Usually small problems.

Ana was a problem. More than he cared to acknowledge. Strange, since he’d known her approximately thirty-six hours. She didn’t want his help or want to help him, but the woman was in trouble. He recognized that fact whether she admitted it or not. Rarely had he faced a barrier as strong as the one she had wrapped around herself. Rarely had he faced a situation where he couldn’t get his way.

That sure as hell would change.

Dolini was supposedly dead. Ana wouldn’t give explanations. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had reported to the cops what she knew about the shooters only to get away from his damn questions. When the cop had dismissed him, Jonas had attempted to wait for Ana. She had to leave sometime. Before he knew it, though, she waved a hand with that crooked grin on her face and ducked into the police vehicle.

But he wouldn’t give up on helping Ana no matter how stubborn she could be. He needed to find out about Dolini and his connection to Stevie, and he wouldn’t fail. Something told Jonas that Ana was hiding important information from him, maybe something as crucial as details on the X shipment.

There was only one way to find out what Ana knew and at the same time make sure she didn’t get herself hurt. He’d have to keep her close. If he had to follow her himself, so be it.

Who was he kidding? This wasn’t just about what she knew anymore. It was about her. He wanted her. After that…he just didn’t know.

“Any word on the shipment?”

Jonas shook his head at Ray. “No. I have no clue who’s behind it, or when or how it’s coming in. Nothing regarding Stevie’s death.”

“We’ll get something.”

“Won’t be soon enough when we do.” Jonas paced back and forth.

“What else is eating you?” Ray asked, casually picking nonexistent lint from his coat. “Anything to do with that young woman you were interested in on the street?”

A low growl vibrated out of Jonas’s mouth.

Ray’s lips twitched. “I take that as a yes.”

“She’s mixed up with something.” Jonas brought Ray up to speed. “But she’s hiding what the problem is.”

“Maybe she doesn’t trust a man she just met, ever think of that?”

“Yeah. But that doesn’t stop her secrecy from
pissing me off
.”

“I’ve never seen you so worked up over a woman,” Ray said, smiling.

“It’s not just her. This entire mess makes me feel like I’m grasping at straws.” He ground his teeth. “She just wants to be friends.”

Jonas’s eyes narrowed when Ray broke out into laughter.

“Did I hear you correctly? A woman just wants to be your friend?
You
—who has women throwing themselves at you the minute they come in contact with that pretty face of yours? That’s a good one.”

“I’m drawn in by—hell, I don’t know—her mystery.” That was the only explainable reason. “And now with Dolini dead, I feel like we’re at a stand-still with the shipment and whatever his connection was to Stevie’s death.” He plowed a hand over his bound hair. “Update me on our list of Ecstasy peddlers.” He knew the file by heart, but it helped to hear the potential drug brokers spoken of out loud.

“Dolph Vaniski, Russian Mafia. He’s been out of the country for six months. No signs of him returning yet. Rico and Tomas Garcia, Black Dragons. There’s been talk of Israeli correspondence with gang leaders, but no evidence. Salvador Tyler has been underground for the better part of this year. None of our sources have seen or heard anything new about him.”

Jonas clenched his fist.
Where are you, Tyler?

A knock sounded before the door swung open. “Jonas…” Kara paused, eyes directed at Ray. “Oh, you’re back.”

Ray smiled. “Miss me?”

Eyes flashing with irritation, she didn’t comment, instead turned her attention to Jonas. “Diego wants to see you. Something about Lenny not checking in for twenty-four hours. Should I send him up?”

Jonas’s gaze met Ray’s.

When Ray stood, Jonas knew they shared the same thought. Another one of his men had been taken out.

Jonas shook his head at his sister. “Where’s Diego?”

“Downstairs, but—”

Jonas walked out before she could finish. He’d made it to the stairs when he realized Ray wasn’t with him. He doubled back, pausing when he reached the door.

Kara’s hands fisted at her sides as she faced Ray. A small hateful smile curved her lips. “…you showed me the error of my ways, didn’t you, Ray?
That
I will never forget.”

With those words, she whirled toward the doorway, her face crumpling into what looked like tears. But her soft features flinched when she laid eyes on Jonas.

She looked away as she hurried past him.

Jonas studied Ray, frowning.

Ray’s expression was blank when he walked toward the door. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

Saturday 9:12 p.m.

The Ink Dome sat on its same-sex haunches on Folsom Street in San Francisco’s SoMa (South of Market) District, where clubs and eccentricity thrived. The sidewalks were packed with natives as well as tourists out to experience a good thrill.

As Ana passed clubs, music and voices melded together. She kept her eyes straight ahead and tried not to walk into anybody. A rush of wind sent arrows of frigid air up her peacoat. She tucked in her chin, pulling the lapels tight against her. The night was too damn cold for the get-up she was wearing.

After her talk with Sarge, she’d swung by the address she’d swiped from his desk for the last location where Skates’s tracker had registered him. The place ended up being a pool hall, but there was no sign of Skates. Had the local police picked him up already? Unsure, she’d stopped at the kid’s pad to check if he’d made it home. No answer at his door. His uncle Leo, a seventy-two-year-old Italian with a raspy voice and the attitude of a prickly porcupine, worked as the manager for Skates’s small apartment building. The old goat hadn’t heard from him and couldn’t care less as long as the kid paid his rent on time.

Sarge had texted her. She’d returned his call but refrained from asking if Skates was still AWOL. She sure as hell couldn’t find him.

“A Thomas Dolini was found floating near pier 45. Bullet hole in his stomach and another to his chest.” Sarge had paused. “Killed by a nine. Watch your back—these guys aren’t going to want a witness hanging around. I can’t afford to lose your connection with Brooks and Saven.”

“Sarge, stop trying to sweeten me up. I can take care of myself.”

“Check in every few hours. The tracker can find you, but it doesn’t let me know if you’re dead or alive.”

Cheerful thought.

Not knowing Skates’s whereabouts gave her an uneasy feeling. Nothing she could do but push it aside until time permitted. There were more pressing matters.

Such as, who did the Killer Suits work for?

Unfortunately, Jonas and Brooks were her only reliable leads at the moment.

Having seen Jonas’s hired muscle at Zero, it was safe to assume the Suits weren’t part of his team. Club Zero’s crew could be linebackers for the Oakland Raiders, whereas the Killer Suits had resembled human string beans.

Personally, she held with the idea that the Killer Suits weren’t working for the Garcia brothers either. Too high maintenance for Gangsters-R-Us.

Dolini could have been jawing to others about the X. If that was the case, he’d been taken out as a liability for flashing his samples to one too many people.

Which left Salvador Tyler. The one suspect SIDE hadn’t gotten close to. That could mean either he was lying low waiting for his shipment or he wasn’t involved at all.

A prickle at the back of her neck made Ana glance over her shoulder. Faces melded together as pedestrians walked in varying directions. No one unusual stuck out like a sore thumb.

Still, she was being watched. She just felt it. As if someone were peering right over her shoulder.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she increased her pace.

Fast footsteps came up behind her. She pivoted, only to see a couple of young guys running and laughing. They passed her without a glance and she closed her eyes. Idiot.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and she whirled. Relieved, she said,
“Jax.”

He ran his eyes over her and looked suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh. His outfit consisted of black jeans with leather black chaps over them, his usual boots and a black tank under his leather jacket. His blond hair was spiked in its standard hand-combed disarray.

Basically he looked normal.

“What’s the matter? Spooked?”

“No.” She looked up and saw that she’d reached the club without realizing it. Not spooked, huh? Who was she kidding?

They waited in line and walked inside to heated air, blaring music and dimmed lights. After paying their door fee, Ana left her jacket at the coatroom.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Jax’s interested blue eyes traveled up and down her body, not missing any detail. “Or what the hell
aren’t
you wearing?”

Patent leather clung to her body’s curves. She wore a low cut tank and tiny shorts, with a chain belt and calf-high boots to finish off her disguise.

Oh yeah, definitely a disguise. No way would she wear this for any other reason.

“It’s my S and M cover.” She pushed her hair out of her face and pulled up her tank as far as it would go over her breasts. She should probably be grateful her nipples weren’t showing, but she still felt uncomfortable showing the slight protrusion of her tracker.

A slow grin formed on his lips. “If I win the bet, you’re wearing that on our date.”

Ana scanned the crowded tables. “Get a grip, Jax. This is a gay club, remember? Act the part.”

“The toughest job I’ll ever have to do, with you strutting around in that outfit.”

Ana frowned, meeting his eyes. She didn’t care for the disturbing flutter in her stomach. “How many times do I have to remind you that you have a girlfriend? Some faithful boyfriend you make.”

Of course, that was probably the reason he sported a different girlfriend every few weeks. The guy sniffed out women like every day was mating season.

As Jax lowered his head closer to hers, his expression turned playful. “So many women, so little time.”

She placed a hand on his well-built chest and shoved. He stepped back with a devilish smile. She didn’t usually go for the egotistical, noncommittal, bad-boy kind of a guy, but sometimes she could admit to herself Jax tugged something inside of her.

“Let’s get started. I’ll take the right side of the tattoo and piercing rooms, you take the left. I’ll meet you in thirty at the bar,” she dictated, and strolled off. At least one of them was thinking with the appropriate head tonight.

The walls and seating areas were painted black. The only colors brightening the place were in the privacy rooms where you could get a tattoo or piercing. Or who knew what else.

Head-banging music bumped through the building. The dance floor was filled with skin-tight leather and Levi’s on same-sex couples getting cozy with each other.

Ana craned her neck, spotting a lot of shaved heads adorned with tatts. But so far not one with a unique skull painted on it. Damn, this could take all night.

Thirty minutes passed quickly. She squeezed her way through a swarm of bodies to the bar in the center of the club. A large woman resembling a cross between a humanoid marshmallow and the Pillsbury Doughboy materialized beside her, batting her gunky mascara-coated lashes. She was wearing a too-revealing leather outfit.

Perfect.

“Hey, honey, never seen you here before.” Her drawl sounded southern.

“Really? I come here all the time. I’m waiting for my girlfriend.”

Ms. Mallow’s black-coated lips stuck out in a funky pout. “Too bad, sugar, you’re a cutie.”

“Gee, thanks.” She cleared her throat. “My girlfriend thinks so, too.”

A heated body pressed against her. Ana tensed until she saw Jax smiling down at her. For the first time she felt like kissing him. Just not the way he wanted to kiss her.

Seeing her new companion eye Jax speculatively, and knowing the woman was thinking no way was this guy female, Ana smiled. “Hormone injections do wonders.”

The Southern Mallow gasped.

“Maybe I should leave you two alone,” Jax said in Ana’s ear. “Wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”

Ana turned and raised to her toes. “Do and die.”

As Ms. Mallow took her leave, she stared at Jax with wide, fascinated eyes.

Jax’s eyebrows lowered. “Why is she looking at me like that?”

Suppressing a grin, Ana shrugged.

“What’s it gonna be?” a high voice questioned from behind the bar.

Ana and Jax turned and almost flinched in surprise at a bright skull doing something better left unsaid on the bartender’s head. Talk about distinctive. Ana glimpsed his name tag. Apparently they had found Derek Meyer.

Jax cleared his throat and said he’d take a beer. Ana seconded his request.

“Skates’s source didn’t mention that Meyer worked as the bartender.”

Ana only nodded. Skates might have left out that important fact accidentally, since he’d been halfway off in la-la land when she’d questioned him.

She elbowed Jax. “You’re the guy, you make the play.”

He winced. “He might think I’m coming on to him.”

“How many times has Sarge said to do whatever it takes to get the job done?”

He shook his head. “He didn’t ask me to come on to a fruit.”

“Bad ass Jax, a phobic? Classic. I think someone’s forgetting something about a bet.”

Jax let out a low curse.

As Meyer approached, Jax braced his broad shoulders and reached out and touched Meyer’s arm. Meyer looked down at the hand on his arm, then at Jax with an interested stare, his eyes going heavy, his smile turning soft.

“Yeah?” Meyer squeaked.

Jax was not thrilled. “You got a break coming on?”

Meyer’s lashes fluttered.

Jax looked like he might get sick.

“Sure, handsome. Wanna dance?”

Jax shook his head until Ana’s heel crunched into the top of his foot.

“Sounds like a plan,” he ground out.

Ten minutes later, Ana held back laughter, catching brief glimpses of Jax in the arms of a leather-clad man with porn tattooed on his head.

It looked as if Jax was trying to put as much distance between them as possible, but Meyer wasn’t having any of that. Not from the way he grabbed Jax’s sweet buttocks.

They talked and Meyer did some nodding. When the song ended they made their way back to the bar.

Meyer handed Jax a card. “Call me, anytime, sweet thang.”

Jax nodded once, grabbed the card, and quickly made his way to the coatroom, bumping people on his way.

Ana ambled behind him, eagerly awaiting information.

Once they stepped outside, she turned to him. “What’s the verdict?”

“I found out Tyler has a big dislike for Brooks and Saven, reason unknown. Something that happened three years ago. And if I want a discount on any drugs—and he says he can get pretty much anything—Meyer would be happy to trade some favors.”

“What? No freebies?” When Jax only stared, Ana bit back a smile. “Touchy. So Tyler has it in for Brooks and Saven. Three years ago—the same time Tyler was almost put away on drug trafficking. Interesting.” Although hearing the connection between Jonas and Tyler made her stomach twist. Big bright arrows saying
guilty
kept pointing at Jonas and she didn’t understand why it bothered her. Or maybe she did. And that’s what
did
bother her.

She cleared her throat. “Anything about the shipment coming in?”

He shook his head. “The main source is keeping this low profile.”

“Well yeah, they don’t want anyone to horn in on their big drop.” She saw Jax shift, almost as if he grew taller, broader. She looked up at him with a frown. “What’s the problem?”

The look on his face was lethal. His gaze flashed cold. Ice blue eyes.

They had company.

She performed a smooth pivot on her left foot. A shiver went down her spine at the sight of Jonas’s stare—a look of possession, anger and accusation. Emotions he had no right to feel. But they hit her straight in the center and threw her off balance.

“What are you doing here?” Tamping down her shock, she managed a welcoming smile. “I didn’t know you frequented the Ink Dome, Jonas. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

With her movement, her coat shifted open.

Jonas’s gaze descended to her outfit.

His mouth went south with his gaze. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“You know this guy, Ana?” Jax growled, his voice low and deliberate. He had to have recognized Jonas.

She made the introductions.

Neither man offered a hand. No surprise there.

“Can I talk to you, Ana?” Jonas asked. With the testosterone level spiked at an all-time high, his statement came out more like a command than a question.

“That depends…have you been following me?”

“We’ll talk about it in my car.”

She snorted. She wasn’t thrilled by the idea of taking off with him, especially since he probably wasn’t too happy about her departure with the cop earlier, but it was best to get Jax and Jonas out of each other’s faces. She had a hunch the two together would mix like the lethal shipment of X and PMA. A dangerous combination.

“Fine. Billy and I were just parting ways.”

Jax shifted, grabbing her left arm.

Come on, she could take care of herself.
She raised her eyebrows at Jonas. “How about a lift to my place?”

He didn’t skip a beat. He latched onto her other arm. “My pleasure.”

“Great,” she said, and tugged her left arm. Jax didn’t let go. What was the idiot thinking?
“Billy.”
She gave a signal with her eyes.
Don’t do this.

He didn’t acknowledge anything back, merely flicked his eyes to Jonas.

“The lady said she’s leaving with me.” Jonas took a threatening step toward Jax.

Jax was as silent and immovable as a statue. He’d transformed himself into Street Fighter mode. Not a good idea.

Jax and Jonas stood head-to-head, with Ana in the middle. The guys appeared to be the same height, same build, but Jax had iron fists. He fought like there was no tomorrow and won nine times out of ten. Just because Jonas had muscle didn’t mean he could fight. And with the pampered lifestyle he lived, he was likely soft when it came to throwing down. Witnessing their fight was not on Ana’s wish list.

“Guys, come on. Let’s chill out.” They didn’t look at her. She stepped back and broke their holds on her arms. “That’s it, then. You two play nice. I’m out of here.”

Taking off down the street, she left them to their pissing match. A person could only do so much when two idiots felt they needed something to prove.
Damn
idiots.

Jonas called her name. The relief she felt was real and unexplainable, but she didn’t stop. He caught up with her, this time taking her hand like a gentleman.