Enemies and Playmates (33 page)

“Why don’t we knock off the dancing around and get to the point,” Jesse said. “You called me here. You kept it all mysterious. So you’re hopping in Covington’s bed now and then. Anything else you want me to know?”

Kristen blinked her fake lashes. “I believe we got off to a bad start here,” she said. “Why don’t we both drop our guards and relax. We’re after the same goal, therefore we should be friends, not enemies.”

Jesse held her gaze, said nothing. Kristen jumped into the silence. “I’m sorry about all the mystery,” she said. “It’s just that I’m fully aware of Alex’s capabilities. I’m sure you can appreciate my need for caution.”

“What made you decide to talk to me?”

“Why don’t we sit,” Kristen said. “Get comfortable.”

Jesse glanced at the table by the balcony door. The heavy drapes were pulled shut. He could easily imagine getting popped in the head by a bullet from the balcony. But the shattering glass would attract too much attention.

Kristen strode to the table, all hips in motion. She sat and crossed her long legs. The skirt barely covered her hips. “Please sit down,” she said. “You’re making me nervous.”

Jesse remained standing. He waited. Time ticked on in silence.

Finally Kristen stood. “Fine,” she said. “If it’s so important to you, I’ll open the drapes.”

Kristen stepped way off in the corner of the room before grabbing the plastic cord. Just as she pulled the drapes open, Jesse moved to the side and pulled his gun. As he’d expected, the glass sliding door shoved open and a dripping caricature of a man jumped inside. He was a few years younger than Jesse and a few inches shorter. Beneath the dripping leather trench coat, he had an average build. A large nose protruded on an average face. But the gun he directed at Jesse was anything but average. The snubnose barrel was fluorescent purple. Jesse had never seen anything like it before.

“Looks like we’re at a standoff,” the man said.

Jesse held his gun firm. The woman for a distraction. One attacker with a purple snubnose. Unique. But loud. A shot from that would certainly be heard by anyone in the adjacent rooms.

Something was missing. Then he felt it. A sharp blow to his shoulder. His arm went numb and he lost his grip on his gun. He cursed himself for not expecting someone to be hiding behind the damn shower curtain. He was living a bad movie. Next he’d be attacked with a damn chainsaw.

The stranger behind him snatched his gun and shoved him forward. Jesse turned. The second man was larger. He had black hair that was either greasy or wet and he was missing a front tooth. He held a .9mm equipped with a long black silencer. Jesse stood between the two men and tried to figure a way to keep from dying.

The toothless man stuck Jesse’s gun in the cavernous pocket of his cargo pants. He was wearing black leather gloves. “Don’t move,” he said to Jesse.

Jesse glanced at Kristen. She was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed in front of her. She smiled and blew him a kiss. He’d never wanted to smack a woman before but this one ranked right up there with a full-blown beating.

“Now we’re going to play a little game,” Trench Coat said. “See Ryder, you and Kristen have been having a wild fling for months now. But, unfortunately for you, she caught wind of your other playmate. Lauren, is it? Well, as you can see, Kristen here isn’t the understanding type.”

Kristen smiled and sashayed closer. As she did, Trench Coat grabbed her by the hair, holding her in place. He said, “Unfortunately for Kristen, you’re going to kill her.”

“What the hell?” Kristen wriggled in a futile attempt to free herself. “You bastards!”

Trench Coat shrugged. “Not my idea, baby.”

Kristen began flailing her arms like a crazed windmill, while screeching in Trench Coat’s ear. She was promptly slapped in the face for her efforts.

Trench Coat threw Kristen to the floor. He placed his army boot on her neck. “If you so much as move,” he said, “I will cut off your air supply.”

Jesse decided that watching Kristen get beaten was not as much fun as he would have expected.

The toothless guy nudged Jesse. “After you knock her off the balcony,” he said, “you’re gonna put a bullet in your own head. Sound like a plan?”

Jesse shook his head. “Nah, it’s all wrong. Why would I shoot myself? No one knows I’m here. I could just leave. It’d look like she committed suicide.”

Trench Coat glared at Jesse. “You got a better plan? Rather die another way?”

“Seriously guys,” Jesse said. “No way in hell Covington came up with this one. Did he actually pay you to think this up?” He motioned to Kristen. “Was this an easy way to get rid of us both? She on his nerves lately, too?”

Trench Coat grabbed Kristen by the hair and yanked her to her feet. As she opened her mouth to scream, he punched her square in the jaw. The sharp crack made Jesse wince. Blood filled her mouth, oozed down her chin. The site brought Jesse no pleasure, though somehow he thought it should.

Trench Coat dragged Kristen out onto the balcony. Toothless shoved Jesse and told him to follow.

The rain came down in sheets. The wind whipped the cold drops into their faces. Jesse took a long, slow breath. Now or never.

Jesse shoved his elbow back into the chest of Toothless. As Toothless doubled over, Jesse grabbed the railing and kicked backward. The heel of his boot connected with Toothless’ temple, instantly knocking him unconscious.

The man said nothing but Jesse caught the moment of uncertainty in his eyes. That moment’s hesitation was enough for Jesse. He still had a reasonably firm hold on the slick railing. He swung his leg in a roundhouse kick and caught Trench Coat just behind the knee. The man fell to the concrete floor as if in slow motion, reaching for something to catch himself, trying to keep hold of Kristen and his gun.

Jesse dove back to where Toothless had fallen. The .9mm lay beside him. Jesse grabbed for it as the rain pelted him and distorted his vision. He gripped the gun, scrambled to turn back toward Trench Coat.

A gunshot exploded. The sound was almost lost in the driving rain. The burst of pain in his right leg registered somewhere in the back of his mind. He rolled away, saw Trench Coat fumbling to extricate himself from the tangle he’d fallen in with Kristen.

The fluorescent purple barrel stared down at Jesse. He swallowed hard but didn’t really think. He squeezed the trigger of the .9mm in his own hand and Trench Coat slumped back to the ground.

Jesse closed his eyes, reminded himself to breathe. Then he leaned over and yanked his own gun from the unconscious toothless guy’s pants. The guy’s temple was bleeding, though it was hard to tell how badly since the rain quickly washed it away. Jesse used the man’s shirt to wipe his prints from the .9mm. Then he laid it on the ground beside Toothless.

Jesse stood gingerly. His right thigh throbbed but the pain was manageable. Kristen had huddled in a ball in the far corner of the balcony. Rain plastered her hair to her face. Her makeup ran and formed a black puddle beneath her eyes. She looked at him with the blank stare of a drug addict.

Limping over to Trench Coat, Jesse leaned down and checked for a pulse. He hadn’t expected to find one. Just one nice clean hole in the center of his forehead.

Jesse had to get out of there. Even with the thumping rain, the gunshots had to have drawn attention. The last thing he needed was to try and explain this mess to Eldridge.

He looked down at Kristen. Her blouse had torn open. Her skirt rode up to expose a black lace thong. She was visibly trembling. He said, “I’m getting out of here. You can stay or go, I don’t care. Say whatever you want about what happened. But I was never here. Got it?”

Kristen nodded. Jesse stuck his gun in the top of his pants, zipped his coat, and glanced down over the railing. Tenth floor. Why couldn’t they have been on the second? Then he could have hopped over the railing. Instead he’d have to find a way out of the building without being noticed. A soaking wet, bleeding man coming from a room where gunshots were fired. Simple

He glanced one last time at Kristen. She hadn’t moved. Looked to be in shock. He almost felt bad. Almost.

He went inside the hotel room. His clothing stuck to him in a heavy wet wad. He found a towel in the bathroom and tied it around his leg to squelch the bleeding. He didn’t need his DNA being picked off the carpets. Then he stood at the door and listened. Hearing nothing, he pulled it open. No one in the hall.

He did a little limp-jog down the hall and around the corner. Not wanting to chance an elevator ride, he found the stairs on the opposite side of the building and managed to jog down all ten flights. His thigh burned.

Jesse went out the back emergency exit. Luckily the door didn’t have one of those annoying alarms rigged to it. He strode as quickly and casually as possible around the building, down the far edge of the parking lot, and to his car. No one was out. One good thing about the rain.

Once in his car, Jesse wasted no time starting the engine and getting himself out of the vicinity. He passed two police cruisers on his way. Timing was everything.

He drove six blocks before stopping in a convenience store parking lot to look at his leg. The bullet had gone through the side of his thigh. He had a couple nasty holes but at least the bullet wasn’t lodged in there. He could take care of it himself. Avoiding hospitals when you had a bullet wound was the best way to handle a situation you were never in.

27

Lauren left her last class at one p.m.. Her stomach had been in knots since early that morning, when she’d received a call from Bob Kent, Gina’s father. He wanted to see her. He hadn’t said why, only that he’d appreciate it if she could drop by his office sometime today.

Lauren’s stomach did another sickening flutter. He had to know Gina was pregnant. And who the father of that baby was.

The prospect of discussing the issue with Mr. Kent made her physically ill. She had nothing to do with this. She hadn’t known, couldn’t have done anything about it. What could he possibly want from her?

Strangely enough, Mr. Kent hadn’t sounded irate on the phone, as she would have expected. His voice had actually been subdued, his request polite.

Lauren drove the few miles to Bob Kent’s office. He worked on the fifteenth floor of a high glass and steel building. When she and Gina were small, they used to love to visit so they could ride the glass elevator up and down the fifteen floors. Now Lauren was not enjoying the ride at all.

She stepped off the elevator and walked down the wide corridor. Her steps were hushed by the thick carpet. Bob Kent’s office was at the very end. He’d occupied that same office since he’d become an architect nearly twenty-five years ago. He could easily afford to upgrade but always said he had no desire to do so. His office was comfortable, which for him was all that mattered.

Bob Kent was nothing like her father.

Peggy, Bob Kent’s secretary, was not at her desk. His office door was ajar. Lauren unconsciously held her breath as she approached and peered inside. Bob was busy at his desk, his head bent down over a wad of paperwork, concentrating. Lauren tapped on the door.

Lauren took one of the seats opposite the desk. She looked down at her hands in her lap, twisted the ring on her finger. She was barely breathing.

She’d never been nervous around Gina’s father before. He was the type of guy who always made everyone feel welcome. And though he hadn’t said or done anything today to change that, the mood was unmistakable. Everything had changed. For both of them.

Bob nodded. His face was pale and his eyes were sunken into dark hollows. He said, “I saw them leaving a restaurant together late one night a few weeks ago. Of course I was suspicious. I followed them to what I now know was your father’s condo. Gina didn’t come out until three that morning.”