Criminal Instinct (13 page)

First thing she noticed when she went through the door was the smell. A scent she would never forget. The faint coppery odor of blood mixed with sweat. Skates’s scruffy sneakers stuck out of the tub in front of her, the plastic floral shower curtain mostly closed.

Oh…
God
. Her stomach turned.

She reached toward the curtain—

“Not yet,” Doms said. “We have business to discuss.”

Her hand clenched into a fist, dropped to her side, and then opened again, fingers spread.

Please be okay, kid.

She turned her back on the sneakers, the rubber of her boots squeaking against the faux floor, and swallowed hard. “My boss is looking for an X deal. That’s who Paul,” she jabbed a thumb toward the shower without looking over, “was asking around for. I take it the Chances Pool Hall is yours?” He inclined his head, and she went on. “And since you have the boss’s man, he isn’t too happy about that, either. But he’s willing to overlook it, if we can work something out.”

“Who is your boss?”

She shook her head. “He stays anonymous. Let’s just say, you wouldn’t want to mess with him.” She recalled a brutal double homicide east of Doms’s territory and went with it. “You hear about that double hit two weeks ago on the east side?” Doms went still. “Yeah, wasn’t pretty. Arms and legs severed, body parts never found. That’s only if you double-cross him. But if you deal with him square, you’re rewarded big time.”

He jerked a handful of dreads over his shoulder. “How much?”

“We’re talking a hundred grand worth.”

The man didn’t flinch. Looked like Doms dealt with plenty of high rollers.

He smiled—big. “It just so happens, my little friend, there’s a shipment coming in that’s quality goods. And I have a connection.”

She couldn’t believe it. “Why should I take your word?”

“I do not have the proof now, but soon. The main man, Saven, always pulls through.”

Ana’s blood slowed. “What…did you say?”

He grinned. “Saven is the man with the quality goods.”

Her palms dampened. This didn’t make sense. Doms was talking about Jonas, wasn’t he? “Who is this Saven? Have you ever met him? What’s—”

“Yes, and that is all you need to know for now.”

She hesitated, but didn’t press. A dicey situation. Somebody was lying, but this was not the best time to call the dealer out. Or was not recognizing Jonas all an act? “When’s the arrival of the shipment? I need a ball park.”

“A few days and your boss will have a deal. I’ll have access to the goods by Friday.”

“My boss doesn’t just take his supply from anywhere.”

“Oh, he’ll be more than happy with this shipment. It’s arriving from Israel by boat. Top-grade pills, my friend.”

Ana’s stomach jumped.

He looked her over. “Not that I am one to judge by looks, but how am I to know you are for real? A hundred grand is a lot of cash flow, yes?”

“Yeah, it is. Don’t worry. When the load comes in, we’ll have the money. Now, it would be a show of respect if you handed Paul over.”

Doms blinked a few times. “No, my friend, your word is not—what you would say?—good enough for me. We’ll have to set up a meet with the man who holds the money.”

Ana merely nodded. It had been worth a try. At least she’d been given useful information. She didn’t quite know how they were getting out of here yet, but she had to keep her cool in order to hold on to Doms’s connection to the shipment.

“I’ll set up your party and then you may take your Pauly.” He walked out the door.

Immediately, the fat boy filled the entryway.

Bracing herself, Ana turned and swung open the curtain.

What the hell was taking Ana so long?

Five minutes, his ass.

The prostitute from the bed made her way over to Jonas and started rubbing her hands against his leather jacket. She reeked of cheap wine and body odor.

“Mmmm. Nice. Why don’t you take it off and stay awhile?” She smiled and Jonas discovered one of her front teeth was missing.

He didn’t even flinch. Just one of a hundred drugged-out whores he’d encountered through the years.

The dealer came out of the bathroom and eyed Jonas nervously. Not good. Jonas pushed the prostitute away and walked toward the dealer.

Doms lifted his baggy shirt, revealing a pistol sticking halfway down his pants. “Everything is cool, my friend. Your lady is getting her boy, both of you will join us and everything should go smoothly.”

Jonas stayed quiet. He knew all about Dominic Barley, aka Doms: his rep, his territory and his preference for weed and whores. Word was in the past few months he’d thrown in with a major drug source. Only no one would talk.

And now Ana had set up a drug deal with him.

This was the final straw. He had to find out who she worked for. She was swimming neck-deep in the drug trade. He’d had his suspicions from the beginning, but after tonight her connection to the drug world was confirmed.

Now to figure out what he would do about it.

A loud thump came from the bathroom. Then another. Doms turned and they both saw the big guy on his knees, crashing to the floor. Jonas glimpsed Ana standing over him.

There was blood.

Shit.

Doms gripped the butt of his pistol. Jonas grabbed two hands of coarse dreads and slammed the dealer’s narrow face into the wall.

Once. Twice.

A kid started hollering. “Ana! Ana!”

Doms fell next to his boy.

Hysterical screams from the prostitutes vibrated through the room. Jonas didn’t spare them a glance.

Ana hesitated in the bathroom doorway, a kid draped halfway on her. The kid’s face was battered, his clothes torn.

“We’ve got to go, Ana,” Jonas said.

She didn’t move, just stared down at the bloody guy on the floor, her face pale.

Cursing, Jonas grabbed the kid and hauled him over his shoulder. Then he took Ana’s hand and dragged her behind him out of the motel.

As they made it to his SUV, Jonas could hear sirens in the distance. He tossed the smashed-up kid onto the rear seat, made sure Ana was buckled tight, and then sped away into the night.

“We need to take him to the hospital,” Ana said, gripping Paul’s bruised hand. Her palms were damp with anxiety. The kid was so cold.

She shut her eyes. God…her stomach.

They were in an office above club Zero. Paul’s lanky, battered form sprawled on an open sofa bed. Jonas had driven straight here and carried Paul to this very spot.

“It’s not safe, Ana.”

She spared Jonas a glance. He stood to her right, hands in his pants pockets. “What are you talking about? It sure is a hell of a lot safer than what you got here. He needs medical attention, not the luxuries of the rich.”

“What the hell do you have against money?”

She didn’t respond. In and out of consciousness, Paul jabbered incoherently.

“Knife…approx…five inches, one inch width, black rubber grip…no,
please God
—” He whimpered.

“Shhh, Paul—”

“First gash to-to my lower st-stomach—
fuck
—I’m not a narc! He grabbed my wrist…too strong…couldn’t fight him. Broke my forefinger…
no more
…he broke my middle finger.”

His descriptions went on. Beaten, slapped—Ana could see it in her head like some horror film—as he screamed and pleaded for them to stop. Precise details, down to the location of every wound he suffered, and how they were inflicted, continued to pour from him, one after the other, in a kaleidoscope of agonizing images.

Paul, who would never cause anyone pain.

Paul, who she hadn’t done a good job looking out for.

She should have. Oh, God, she should have. She knew about being innocent in a world of predators.

Now the kid knew all about it, too.

She could tell he was trying to open his eyes, but couldn’t. They were so raw, so bloated.

“You’re safe, Paul,” she whispered to him. “It’ll be okay.”
Let it be okay
.

“Dominic Barley,” Jonas said, “is not one to let what happen at the motel slide. He’s known for his revenge.”

Her attention whipped to him. Was it true? Was Jonas behind the X deal? “You
do
know him.”

“Of him. There’s a difference.”

She wiped at her forehead with the sleeve of her coat. She shivered. “How?”

The door swung open and in walked Raymond Brooks.

Ana sprang to her feet, shielding the kid.

“What’s going on? What the hell is he doing here?”

“Ana, this is Ray. He’s a trained medic.”

Jonas walked to her, ran his hand through her hair then rested it on her shoulder. She barely felt his touch.

“He can help,” Jonas said. “Your friend will be okay.”

Ana met the kindness in his eyes. When her throat formed a knot, her eyes flew to Brooks.

Tall, brown hair, brown eyes—Raymond Brooks in the flesh. Her first close-up of one of the leading suspects behind the X shipment and she didn’t even care.

Carrying some kind of medical kit in his hand, he strode to Ana and pushed her aside like a pesky child, then kneeled beside Paul. Inside the kit were scalpels, plastic-covered syringes, bandages and bottles of pharmaceuticals.

She shrugged off Jonas’s hand. “No way.” She didn’t know Brooks from some loser on the street. She reached for Brooks’s shoulder. That was as far as she got.

Brooks caught her wrist. “Don’t.” His grip wasn’t hurtful, but secure. Warm. She could discern no threat in his eyes.

Paul moaned.

Jaw tight, she reluctantly pulled back. “Make him better, or else.”

He took out a syringe, ripped open the plastic packet and stuck the needle into a liquid vial, filling the slim tube a quarter way. “This is for the pain.” He swabbed Paul’s shoulder and inserted the needle. Paul didn’t move.

She paced, fighting the painful twist of her stomach.

“Ana,” Jonas commanded. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

She could feel Jonas watching her. She avoided his gaze at all cost. Couldn’t look at him. Not now. If he tried to comfort her one more time, she might just crumble.

Brooks gently probed and cleansed Paul’s injuries, sterilizing and bandaging what needed to be as well as sewing a few deep cuts.

Ana finally stood still when Brooks shut his kit and rose. “It’s going to be weeks before he’s fully recovered. He has severe bruising on his chest and torso, five broken fingers, and I counted thirteen lacerations. Likely dehydrated. Once the swelling goes down on his eyes, he’ll be able to see. I gave him a sedative, he’ll need bed rest.” He met Jonas’s eyes. “He’ll have to be moved.”

Jonas nodded.

They talked as if they were responsible for Paul. “Wait a
damn minute!
” Ana interrupted. She needed to get back in control of the situation. “There are people who need to be notified.”

“You’re calling the cops?”

She took a breath. “I need to contact our boss.”

“You two work together?”

Her fingertips scraped against her scalp. “That’s what I said.”

“He’s just a kid—” Jonas broke off, cursed.

Brooks cleared his throat. “Let me know.”

As efficiently as Brooks had entered, he slipped out.

Ana frowned. Let him know what?

“This time I want an explanation,” Jonas demanded tersely when the door shut behind Brooks. His expression was as determined as his voice.

Thank God there were no longer traces of kindness.

“There’s nothing to explain. You were there. Things got messy.”

His eyes widened as if something just occurred to him. Or maybe he had just suffered a jolt of shock. He grabbed the lapels of her coat. “Damn it, Ana! Cut the bullshit. When are you going to stop avoiding my questions? When are you going to trust me?”

She gripped his hands and pulled at them. They wouldn’t budge. Her own hands were shaking. She felt as if she were on a steep ledge and could fall any second.

He finally eased his fingers away.

“There’s no air in this room.” She walked away from him. “Just leave me alone.” Spotting a window, she pushed it open a few inches and then leaned her head against the cool glass.

“I wish I could.” The tone of his voice made her turn. Their gazes locked, his topaz eyes a dark brown in the dimly lit room. He walked to her, encircled long fingers around her bicep in a firm grip, and pulled her from the room.

“Paul—”

“Ray will be looking in on him. That’s the way he is.”

They walked down a white-walled corridor and then turned left into his spiffy office.

Jonas poured her a drink. “Here.” A tumbler was shoved into her hands and his fingers cradled over hers. “Damn, you’re trembling.”

She sipped, gagged, and spit whatever the hell it was back into the glass. “What are you trying to do, poison me?”

He shook his head. Oddly enough, her comment seemed to defuse his tension. “The poison would have warmed you.”

Giving the glass back to him, she grimaced. “I’m hot enough already.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Ana? Are you sick?”

Sick?
She laughed a little.
God yes, sick of everything.
“Just need to use your bathroom to clean up.” She met his eyes, looked away. “I know you’re pissed about earlier, but I did what had to be done.” She always did. “And I need to call. I need—” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Were you following me tonight?”

He just looked at her. Uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Outside, a siren bellowed in the distance.

“What do you think?” he asked, voice quiet.

“I think you had no right.”

His jaw hardened. “What do you expect me to do when every question I ask, you evade?” He shook his head. “But that stops tonight. I want to know what you’re doing with those dealers and I want to know who you work for.”

Her pulse picked up. She swallowed. “My call first.”

He expelled an exasperated breath. “Fine, but don’t expect to take off. I mean it. We’re going to talk.”

She needed to notify SIDE. She pulled out her cell.

“Ana?”

“What?”

He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “What did you do to that guy at the motel? His face was full of blood. I saw you standing over him but then things went bad fast.”

Her hand tightened on the phone like a lifeline. “I hit him.” She turned away from him. Before dialing the firehouse, she shut her eyes for a moment to settle the storm going on in her stomach.

“With what?”

She didn’t look back. “The toilet tank lid.”

The ringing in her ear finally stopped when Digit answered.

“What’s going on?” Ana asked her. “It’s nearly one in the morning.”

“I found a connection between Pike and Tyler. Jax is here, too. What’s up?”

“Get me…the boss. Something’s gone down.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to cover for you?”

Ana blinked. In her already emotional state something inside her chest constricted. Digit was offering her help without being asked. “I…no, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay, but text me if you need me. I’m always available.”

Before Ana could reply, Sarge was on.

“Talk.” Sarge. Knowing Jonas likely was hanging on every word, she cleared her throat and gave Sarge a short, clipped rundown about going after Paul at the motel with Jonas riding along, Paul’s present condition, and where they were now.

CLANK, CLANK!

Ana jerked the cell away from her ear. Sarge’s voice blasted in the background. “…hello?” Sarge wasn’t really beating the crap out of the phone, was he?

“Ana, it’s Jay.”

“What was that?”

“Sarge had a problem with the receiver.”

Right, a
problem
.

“Listen to me carefully,” he said. “Are you and Paul in danger?”

“No. He’s patched up, resting. A hospital is not an option right now.” She lowered her voice. “I have information. I have to go. Tell Sarge he can chew me out tomorrow.”

“No, Ana. That’s not how it works.” His gentle tone went serious. At times Ana forgot how strong a backbone Jay-man had.

She shut her eyes. “I’m listening.”

A few moments later, she disconnected.

Crap, crap, crap.
She turned and nearly collided with Jonas’s chest.

Her heart thudded louder. How much had he heard?

Her gaze flicked up to his. “Bathroom?”

He didn’t comment, but his eyes bore into hers before he turned and led her to a door next to his desk. She began cracking her knuckles, her stomach twisting with nerves. They went through the doorway and entered a bedroom.

The room was as big as his office and just as spruced up. The bed was a king-size boat with a fluffy gray spread and four matching pillows. There was nothing really personal about the room; it looked like one of those sanctuaries you saw in decorating magazines for the rich. The walls were a cream color and held monochrome photographs of the Bay Area.

They crossed to another door leading to the bathroom. Black and white tiles, shiny as spit, lined the walls. To the right stood a shower with a glass door and a huge tub with jacuzzi jets. Two sinks sat side by side and, of course, no bathroom could do without…a toilet.

Images of Doms’s fat boy’s busted face filled her head.

Her stomach dropped, then slammed back up her throat.
“Get out.”

Jonas turned to her, gripping her shoulders. “You’ve gone completely pale. You
are
sick.” He tore her coat open. Buttons flew.

Propping her against the wall, he stripped the jacket from her shoulders. He couldn’t pull the jacket any further, her arms clenched against her stomach. “What did you take? Ana? What did Barley give you in the bathroom?”