Criminal Instinct (22 page)

Monday
12:20 p.m.

Ana climbed the narrow, scuffed steps to her studio apartment. The Morans, her neighbors across the hall, were arguing again. Their loud voices drifted down the yellow tunnel of a stairway. Slipping her switchblade into the small purse hanging from her shoulder, she retrieved her key. After a dozen calls to the cops with no resolution for the daily disturbances from the volatile couple, hardly anyone in the building called 9-1-1 anymore. They all just hoped the couple quieted down soon, or that Mr. Moran would pass out.

She felt numb inside. A little light-headed. Too many emotions had bombarded her in the last twenty-four hours. Now it seemed her system crashed back to reality. And that was just fine, since she had no place to go, no lead to follow, just hours to finally get much needed rest. Hopefully a rest so deep it wouldn’t be invaded by Jonas or the damn Deadly Adam operation. Or Round Ten with the Morans.

Unlocking her door, she stepped over the threshold. The familiar stale scent of the room hit her nose, and something else…

Body odor
.

A thin-fingered hand grabbed her arm, yanking her inside. The door slammed at her back.

Dread squeezed her insides when she met the empty stare of one of the Killer Suits.

She jerked from his hold, only to have arms from behind wrap around her waist. Suit Two.

Instinct kicked in. She sprang back with the force of his momentum. They both slammed against the door. Teeth gritted, she hiked up her leg and jammed back hard with her heel.

He grunted, loosened the viselike grip around her waist enough for her to twist around and slam up with her open palm.

The Suit cursed, grabbing for his nose.

Ana wedged out of his hold, jumped back and hit wall. Needing to keep them both in her line of vision, she felt along her body for her purse.

Gone.

No weapon.

The Morans—still going at it.

Both Suits were crouched, one with his arms spread. The other held his nose, with murder in his eyes. With their suits and clean-shaven faces they looked like typical “sitcom dads” gone off the deep end. That was what made it so surreal.

They closed in, an advancing wall of hostile testosterone. She was out of options. All she had were her legs. To run.

She shifted, darting away. A charging body knocked her off her feet, slamming her down on her back. The air flew out of her lungs. Her head smacked against the hard floor.

Dazed, her heart pounding, she aimed for the temples.

She missed target, hitting one of his eyes. He flung an arm down, knocking away her hands. She had a quick flash of his open palm—

Her head whipped to the left. Tears filled her eyes as an ache hammered under her skin.

They both jumped on her, each grabbing an arm. Their knees locked down on her kicking legs.

Outnumbered. Outmaneuvered.

Helpless.

She screamed.

A cloth was pressed over her mouth and nose. She gasped. An alcoholic, sour scent poured over her senses, suffocating her.

She gagged, and fought inhaling the sour odor.

Her mouth tingled, tongue growing thick. The tingles traveled to the back of her head.

Jonas had been wrong…there was no one to help stop a kidnapping in her apartment.

Her body seemed heavy. She was losing function of her arms. Legs. Couldn’t even panic.

She just wanted…needed…to rest.

For a minute…

“Yeah,” Billy said into the receiver.

“Change of plans, cracker. Meet us at the old lumber warehouse on Wilson, tomorrow night at midnight. Bring no one, not even your
compadre
, or the deal’s off. We’ll take you to the goods. You mess with us and you’re dead. Understand?”

“Tomorrow night we make the deal?”

“Once we pick up the load, we’ll deal.”

Billy hung up the phone and turned to Jay-man and Sarge, relaying the phone conversation.

“I don’t like it,” Jay-man said.

“Neither do I,” Sarge said, “but what choice do we have? They could actually be taking Jax to the boat. He’s got the tracker. We’ll be able to follow a short distance away.” He smoothed his mustache with his fingers, his eyes distant. “We don’t know for sure what to expect. We’ll take a van. DEA will have a platoon of agents standing by.” He nearly smiled. “This could be it. Not Tyler after all, son of a bitch.”

Billy frowned. Something didn’t feel right. “Then why have those Suits been after Switch? I can’t believe they work for Garcia.”

“Wrong place, wrong time scenario. The dealer was taken out for some other bad business. It’s likely he didn’t work for Tyler at all. No way of knowing.” He waved his hand. “Not a priority. Switch is out of this. I got to make calls and get our shit together.” He went to his desk.

“Something’s off,” Billy murmured.

“Maybe because you feel it’s too easy,” Jay-man said. “But if you think about it, it hasn’t been. It’s been a runaround from the beginning, and now it’s coming to a head.”

He looked at Jay-man. “Probably.”

“I don’t like you going alone. Could be a set-up.”

“It’s possible, but we’re not stupid enough to bring the money to the deal. I’ll say you have it for safe keeping and we’ll go from there.”

“I’ll run it by Sarge. Sounds like a plan.”

9:20 p.m.

Billy knocked on Switch’s door, a six-pack of beer dangling from his fingers.

No answer. Shit.

He was beat. He needed some company and nice diversion and had figured Switch might want some too. He’d thought they could have a few drinks and let nature take its course the way it usually did when a man and a woman had too much booze. With Garcia leading him to the Ecstasy shipment, he could say he came to fulfill their bet on the answers to the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question a little early. Tomorrow night he’d finally find out where and when that load of shit would arrive in the city.

For the last few hours, Sarge had drummed into his brain the set-up with the Garcia brothers for tomorrow night. Finally Jay-man had taken pity on Billy and suggested to Sarge that they continue at six the next morning with the remaining team, Digit and Romeo.

Now here he stood, staring at a silent, paint-chipped doorway. Maybe she was out, just to piss off Sarge by not following his orders. Stupid move with those Suits on the streets gunning for her.

Something itched between his shoulder blades. The security for this building was shit. Some drunk idiot had let him walk right in behind him through the downstairs entrance. With a quick look behind his back, he set down the beer and drew out his lock pick. He entered the door within seconds.

Her place was dark. He flicked on the wall switch.

The room wasn’t tidy, but that wasn’t so unusual. Some people were slobs. A few pieces of clothing lay on the floor. An unmade twin bed sat pushed against the wall. After checking the bathroom just to be sure she was gone, he left, locking the door at his back. He’d make quick stops at a couple of her usual hangouts just to make sure she was okay. She was probably just out, like he thought.

Shaking his head, he tried not to let his annoyance come through. The woman thought she was Xena, Warrior Princess or something. She was tough, he’d give her that. But he could kick her little ass, and she would be no match for anybody with a gun.

Sometimes it seemed as though nothing scared her, but once or twice he’d seen fear in her eyes before it transformed to anger. One of these days that brashness would be her downfall. And it ticked him off that if something happened to her, it would…bother him.

He’d made a vow never to care about anybody but the small family he had. Caring too much could become a weakness. A liability. Once he felt a desire to get close to someone coming on, he faced it and took it out.

That was the straight reason he encouraged a more intimate interest in Switch. Then she would become just another lay to him. No big deal. But he had a sinking feeling, which had started right after he had a taste of her that night escaping from the Suits, if he took her to bed, he’d want to do it again. And she’d become more than a weakness, possibly a damn obsession.

So it was good she wasn’t high on the idea of getting down with him, even if the thought rubbed him wrong. In fact, he’d call up one of his no-strings-attached lady friends and kick Switch from his mind.

After he made sure she was all right.

Icy water crashed against her head.

Cold drops ran down into her eyes, off her face. She gasped for air.

Another wave slammed her. Ana sputtered. Liquid went into her mouth, slid down her throat. She choked, gagged. She tried to move her arms and legs but couldn’t.

Can’t move!

Blinking her eyes, she shook her head. A drowsy fog cushioned her mind.

“Looks like she’s coming around. One more time.”

“No—” Her protest was cut off by a pail of icy water thrown at her. The liquid splashed her face, ran down her shoulders, her chest, against her bare skin.

Against her bare skin…

Her teeth chattered as she scanned her body. She wore only her bra and underwear; her skin was covered with goose bumps. A cold breeze blew from somewhere behind her back. Snot ran from her nose. A quick glance revealed ropes holding her wrists and ankles to a thick wooden chair.

Then she remembered.

The Suits.

In her apartment.

Holding her down.

Drugging her.

Her body was racked with chills. She felt out of sorts. Thoughts sluggish. Panic slow to come.

The room was bare, if you wanted to call it a room…more like an enclosed patio. The floor was cemented, with a large drain embedded in the center. The water flowed down into the small metal squares. A set of patio table and chairs stood to her right, and a barbecue pit to the left. Out of the three visible walls, the one straight ahead had a sliding glass door that appeared to enter a house. The other two walls on either side of her were cemented halfway up and then topped with large windows covered with closed blinds. No sunlight peered through the slants of the blinds.

How long had she been out?

“Ana, can you hear me?”

She raised her gaze to the man walking toward her. He wasn’t tall, but she still had to tilt her head back. He wore a gray suit that matched his squinty eyes. His receding hair was slicked back around a square face, exposing exaggerated ears. He looked to have gained weight since the picture she saw of him in the firehouse. His chin doubled as he stared down at her and his stomach fit snug against his buttoned blazer.

“What…” She broke off, folding her lips in, trying to stop the trembles. “What do you want—Tyler?”

His wiry eyebrows rose, wrinkling his forehead into layers of skin. “Ah, so we need no formal introduction. How is it you know who I am?”

She blinked. “Tom Dolini…gave me your de-description. Thought we’d meet. Since you’ve been s-sending…your goons after me.”

The Killer Suits stood at his back on either side of him, jackets off, sleeves rolled up. Not a good sign. She had to think of a way to get out of here. Her options were few, since she was strapped to a chair.

She could only hope Jay-man would search her out and perform a track check. She’d never been so glad to have the little sucker planted inside of her.

Tyler eyed her, still and deadly as a coiled snake.

“Yes. You’ve been quite a nuisance to me, Ana. Questioning my men, setting up deals you couldn’t possibly afford. You live in a studio apartment. You work, but your employer is unknown.” He tsked. “Yet you have a great interest in my goods coming in. Why is that?”

“Wouldn’t say…great.” She wiggled her wrists. The ropes, at least one inch thick, dug into her skin at the slightest movement.

“What
would
you say?” He placed a thick cigar in his mouth and lit it. When she continued to struggle with her restraints he said, “Don’t bother. You’re not going anywhere.”

Eventually she would be. Preferably alive.

“I’m waiting for an answer, Ana.”

“A friend. Looking for a buy. Word got out. About an…Ecstasy shipment—”

His hand whipped out and lashed across her face. The force jerked her head to the side. A burning sensation erupted under her cheek. Warmth dribbled down her face. She wrenched her head toward Tyler’s hand, her breaths abruptly choppy, her senses at full alert. The creep wore two large rocky gold rings on his right hand.

“Don’t lie to me. No one knows about the shipment. I’ve been putting this deal together for months. There have been very few leaks and when there were, I had the situation taken care of.”

He ran a hand across his hair. “Now.” His voice went low. “How did you learn of the shipment?”

She took a measured breath.
Stay calm
.
Make him believe you.
“I’m telling you, there was a rumor—but that’s it—no details.”

Tyler sighed. “Tom, Harry,” he said as he stepped back.

Ana forced her lips to curve into a shaky smile, even as dismay sank through to her core. “Tom? Harry?” She looked at Tyler. “Does that mean I get to call you Dick?”

Silence hung in the room.

The Killer Suits each grabbed something from the patio table and walked toward her. Her shivers of cold morphed into tremors of fright. They held some kind of batons in their hands. Tiny strings of leather with miniscule metal balls attached dangled from the handles.

Ana swallowed hard. She was taken back to her childhood, when she’d lived with a foster family—the parents, a daughter and a son. The stay hadn’t lasted long, but during the time she witnessed beatings of the children by the father. The whipping instrument had been a leather belt that the children feared as if it were a loaded gun. She’d never forget the sound of the belt as it connected with flesh, or the cries and pleas that rang from their lips as the father viscously beat his own flesh and blood. As a child of ten, she had hoped to never have to be on the receiving end of that belt, even as she wished she were big enough to take on the father and make him stop.

Now she truly would be on the receiving end of some of that pain.

Ana’s panic swelled as the Suits stood before her bending the batons and then hitting the leather strands against their palms.

She’d always considered herself tough. Not fearless, but able to endure a good ass-kicking. That’s how she’d survived. But she wasn’t unsusceptible to torture.

“Look, I-I’m telling you the truth. I heard it through the street. I don’t know when the load’s coming in. I don’t know where—” She hated the fact her voice trembled with fear.

“Boys,” Tyler said.

One Suit brought up his right arm, slashing down at an angle toward her bare thighs as if he were hacking away a tree limb with an ax.

Her body jerked with the searing impact. She gasped. Tears built in her eyes as small red welts rose across her skin. Ana bit into her lower lip to hold back a scream. The other Suit’s arm rose and she had to shut her eyes, knowing it wouldn’t stop it from happening, but wanting to block out the enjoyment on his face. When she closed her eyes, she saw the night of her assault six months ago. The rage and enjoyment as the bastard came at her with his fists.

She forced her mind clear, visualizing black, visualizing nothing.

She retreated to a place within herself, where she had learned to endure physical pain. It was almost as if she were a child, curling tight away from the bogeyman. Eventually her legs grew numb, her energy depleted. She didn’t have the strength to hold up her head. Now she fought to keep her eyelids open. They were so heavy.

“Had enough, Ana?” Tyler’s cultured voice drifted through her mind like a nightmare.

She nodded slowly. “Can I go…home…now?”

“You do have spirit, I’ll give you that.” He stepped closer. “Most men would have at least been crying out about now. Makes me wonder how long it’ll take till you do.” The pleasure in his voice had nausea rising in her throat.

She didn’t want to look at her legs, but she forced her head down. Her skin was reddened with welts. Blood oozed from a few cuts.

She flashed cold, then hot. Bile burned her throat.

Curling her hands into fists, she fought the sickness. Swallowed it. She didn’t want to show any more weakness in front of him. Didn’t want him to know he could break her.

“Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?”

Tell him what he wants to hear
. She leaned her head back, meeting his gaze as much as she could. “If…I know, I’ll answer.”

“Where did you hear of the shipment?”

“Tommy…bar. Drunk. Thought he made it up… till I saw him. Bragging, sober. Forced it outta him. He sang.” Her head lolled to the side, but she managed to bring it up again.

Silence.

Blaming it on the dead guy had been the only thing she could come up with.

“And you were getting the information for Jonas Saven, weren’t you?”

The change startled her. With her eyes half-mast, she shook her head. “No. Friend. Danny Miles.”

He smiled again. He wasn’t buying it.

“I know all about your relationship, Ana. No reason to deny it. You’re lovers, he cares for you. I’m counting on it.”

Hope crumbled in her chest. “I’m here because you think…Jonas cares for me?” She managed a weak laugh.

“What’s so amusing?” His voice carried an edge.

“Just realized, I’m dead. Jonas despises me.” She laughed again.

“Don’t lie. I have a very reliable source.”

Anger flared in her, pushing aside some of the pain. “
Forget
your damn source. Jonas doesn’t keep a female around longer than a week.” She’d experienced it firsthand. “It’s the truth—”

His hand shot out to her face. Reflexes slow, she didn’t have time to brace herself. One ring hit her eyebrow. He countered immediately with another vengeful strike.

Darkness swirled her vision, even as a thought swam through her mind.
At the hands of another madman
.

Her pulse seemed to slow. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, flowed from her lips.

Heavy breaths sounded in her ears. They weren’t her own.

“Look what you’ve made me do, Ana.” Tyler’s voice strangled out. “I broke my cigar. I
despise
losing my composure.”

Ana opened one eye to a slit. Her other eye stung. It could be swelling, she wasn’t sure. Tyler stared at her, looking her over. Sweat glistened his forehead, but his heavy breathing had nearly stopped. No sexual interest showed in his gaze, but Ana could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

He reached out his hand. She flinched. His thick fingers touched her tracker scar.

She shook her head helplessly.

“What do we have here?” He pushed against the protruding skin.

She whimpered.

“Ana. Do you have a heart problem?” A smile formed on his mouth. “So young to have such a handicap.”

He thought it was a pacemaker. “If you h-hurt it…I’ll die.” She hoped he didn’t want her dead yet. The tracker was her only chance to get out of this alive.

“I very much doubt it will kill you instantly. I don’t want you dead yet. I’m saving that moment for Jonas. But I’m sorry, Ana.”

Her throat closed in at the strange look on his face. “Why?” she whispered.

“I exploit weaknesses to my advantage.” He stepped back. “Tom.”

The Suit came forward. Again Ana’s head shook back and forth, this time in a plea. His fist swung out and slammed against her tracker.

She screamed.

11:15 p.m.

“Jonas, I’ve been checking into every possible way there could have been a leak on our end. I can’t find it.”

Jonas looked at Ray with irritation. His wrath wasn’t aimed toward the man he considered a friend, but toward the whole fucking problem. They didn’t know how the hell Tyler had been discovering personal information about Jonas or the men who worked under him.

“I’ve questioned the men,” Ray continued. “I believe them when they say they haven’t leaked information about you or the businesses. They’re scared. You can see it in their eyes. It’s making them more determined to scout out Tyler’s whereabouts.”

Jonas rubbed the back of his neck. “No one’s broken into the computer files. If someone got in without the proper keys, something like a fingerprint in the system would be left behind. I’m the only one with the access code.”

“What about Ana? She conveniently popped up in your life at the beginning of all this.”

“No. I can’t say for sure if she’s the witness the police have against me, but she has the same agenda, to stop the Ecstasy shipment. We find Tyler, we find the drugs.”

The phone rang.

Was it finally Ana? Jonas had been trying to get a hold of her for the past few hours. After finding the heart cut from his jacket, he needed an explanation and to give her a chance to tell her side of the story. They owed each other that.

“Saven,” he said into the receiver.

“Good to hear your voice again, Jonas.”

A current of fury pulsed to life beneath Jonas’s skin. “I’ve been looking for you, Tyler.”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“You’ve never been a friend. Not even when we did business together.”

“There was no business between us, only betrayal by
you
. And I’ve been waiting for the perfect opportunity to regain the upper hand. You’ll want to listen very carefully. You’re not in the position to do otherwise.”

“I’m in every position. The men you killed were disposable. Don’t let it go to your head.” He needed to act as if Tyler’s efforts had been for nothing. Although, Jonas would make him pay for each life he took. Tenfold.

Tyler wheezed a laugh. “I’m not talking about your men. They were just entertainment for me, nothing more. And they were garbage compared to who I have now.”

The way he said it had Jonas’s insides twisting. Jesus, had he seen his sister or Elliott in the last couple of hours?

“Who do you have?” he asked carefully. Ray heard as he intended. He rushed out the door.

“Why, Ana, your current lover, of course.”

Jonas shut his eyes. At least Ana could handle herself a lot better than Kara and Elliott. Although, that didn’t stop the abrupt pounding of his heart.

He sent up a silent prayer that he was doing the right thing. “I don’t know who you are talking about.”

Tyler laughed. “Sorry, it’s not going to work. I know you’ve been seeing her. She tried to distract me herself by saying you didn’t care about her. But I beg to differ. You care, don’t you, Jonas? You care whether she lives or dies.”