Hot Pursuit (28 page)

The man nodded once. “Ernie Stockton. Owner and proprietor, and a very good friend of Angel’s. Why are you asking about her?” he demanded, and wiped his hands on the white apron that hung slightly crooked off his shoulders.

It was also tied at his waist. Ernie wasn’t fat by any means, but the apron didn’t hide the slight pooch in his belly that men his age seemed to obtain. Wolf would put the man in his mid- to upper forties. There was a plain gold band on Ernie’s left ring finger, and as dull as it was, Wolf bet it had been on that finger since the man’s wedding day.

Ernie had a receding hairline, which was a nice way to say the man was going bald. His hair was light brown, with only a few gray strands along the sides. If this place was being harassed by Cortez’s goons as much as Angel’s store was, Ernie was doing good not to have more gray. He was an inch or two taller than Wolf. Many men were taller than Wolf. It didn’t bother him. He made eye contact with Ernie and saw an honest man, who was plagued with worry over something. Ernie was also wary of Wolf but curious about him as well. It had become easier reading people from years of interrogating suspects and questioning witnesses.

Wolf watched the skinny young boy dart out from behind the counter, grab his father, and tug on his shoulder sleeve. The boy whispered loudly but inaudibly. Ernie turned him in an about-face and gave him a gentle push toward the back of the store.

“The ID?” Ernie asked when his son was once again out of sight.

Wolf would bet the kid was eavesdropping. He pulled out his driver’s license and handed it over the counter to Ernie.

Ernie glanced at it. “Any other ID?”

“Other ID?”

Ernie sighed but then moved closer to the counter and lowered his tone to a conspiratorial whisper. “Mr. Marley, if you’re the law here to take down Cortez, I will definitely testify and give you all the information you need to lock him up for a thousand lifetimes.”

Wolf stared at him. Where would Ernie get such a far-fetched idea? Then it hit him. Oh shit! He’d let Angel believe he was in town after Cortez. Although Wolf had thought she would have figured out a bounty hunter only went after people who already had a bounty on them. Cortez had yet to be charged with a crime. Maybe she hadn’t impressed that part upon her neighbors.

“Sounds like everyone in this town has enough on the man to put him away,” Wolf said. “Makes me wonder why none of you stand up to him.”

Ernie bristled. Then raising his hand, he pointed in the direction of Angelina’s Bookstore. “Because if any of us did, that would happen to us, too. I’ve got a family to feed.”

Wolf nodded, not quite getting it, but let it be. Cortez sure had picked the right town to conquer. These people were sheep.

“I don’t know where Angel is.” Ernie crossed his arms and stared at Wolf.

The conversation was over. Wolf had been in his line of work long enough to know when he wouldn’t get any more answers out of a person. He left the Burger Stand, instantly feeling the cold, and did a quick survey of the surroundings. Downtown looked like a ghost town, a very cold ghost town.

Flipping the collar up on his coat, Wolf glanced down the street at the shop names. Angel had one of those hoops that kept material stretched tight. He remembered it looked like she was sewing flowers on a pillowcase. Wolf headed down the street a bit farther to a yarn shop.

Two ladies not much older than Wolf had given him the same stubborn look Ernie had. With the two ladies, their exchange had been even briefer. There was a coffee shop on the next block. With each shop Wolf asked the same questions, got the same answers and the same blank stares that spoke volumes. He was growing more suspicious that each person he spoke to knew exactly where Angel was and simply wasn’t telling him.

He wasn’t the bad guy. Wolf wanted to scream that at each of them. Angel needed him. By the time he had reached the end of the downtown area, a thought began forming and it left a queasy feeling in his gut. What if Angel had seen him follow Maggie? Or worse yet, what if Maggie had called Angel and had told her Wolf was following her?

He seriously doubted the latter would have happened. Maggie wouldn’t do or say anything that might cause suspicion. He nixed the last thought. But what if Angel was pissed at him? If she mentioned to any of her wide span of friends that Wolf had upset her, they would rally around her and Wolf would be blocked out. He wouldn’t be able to find out where she was at gunpoint.

A sense of urgency hit him. Wolf needed to find Angel, especially if she was mad. Maybe having her burger delivered to her hadn’t made up for him taking off on her. What if they hadn’t delivered his message to her? He’d told them when he’d called—and hell, he had paid dearly for that burger and to have it delivered less than a block’s distance—to tell her that he’d had to go to work. He had thought adding that she enjoy her lunch but leave room for him had been a nice suggestive addition. And it had let Angel know he was sincerely going to work and couldn’t wait to see her when he got back.

Apparently, the note hadn’t been good enough. Or maybe it had nothing to do with him leaving or having lunch sent to her or the message he had asked be delivered with her burger. Maybe Angel was angry because her store had been illegally closed; then, making it worse, that ridiculous piece of paper taped to her door stating she’d been evicted added to her humiliation. Wolf could just picture how pissed off Angel would have been if that waste of human flesh piece of shit Brutus had handed her that paper and told her she was being kicked out for nonpayment of rent. Rent that barely left Angel with enough money to keep her business open. She had told Wolf she paid it on time each month just to make sure those assholes left her alone. Angel would have been furious beyond control being told she was evicted.

It should have hit him sooner. Wolf had reached his Escalade while trying to second-guess what had transpired while he’d been dealing with small-town, curious mechanics who were dying to know more about Wolf. Apparently, strangers driving seventy-thousand-dollar SUVs with two tires having bullet holes in them didn’t grace that shop with their presence on a regular basis. While he’d been out having so much fun, Angel had been minding the shop until Cortez’s goons had shown up. Wolf was almost positive they had shown up for one reason—to find out where Zoey was. When she wouldn’t tell them or, knowing her, tried kicking them out of her store, things got ugly.

Wolf looked over the hood of his Escalade at the entrance to the bookstore. Then frowning, he walked up to the glass door and stared at the shiny lock above the door handle.

“Motherfuckers changed her locks.” Wolf pressed the side of his hand to the cold glass and put his face close to see inside.

The register was open, and it appeared the till was empty. There were papers, what appeared to be invoices and other receipts from different vendors, scattered across the counter. Angel kept her cappuccino maker on a card table off to the side of her counter. It had been thrown to the floor, apparently while in use. A dark stain spread out under shards of broken glass.

Wolf scanned the length of the store, then, pulling his phone from his pocket, held it up to the glass and began snapping pictures. He really did wish any of Cortez’s men, or hell even Cortez himself, were watching and would confront him about what he was doing. He’d keep right on taking pictures while shoving his fist through their faces. His temper soared as he walked the length of the front of the store, pressing his face to the glass along with his phone and taking picture after picture of the destroyed bookstore.

Books were all over the floor. Shelves were knocked over. Wolf was sick to his stomach. Everything Angel had in the world was tied up in this small-town little bookstore. Wolf spotted the door leading up to her apartment, which she always kept closed, standing open. Clothes were on the stairs, tossed and left. Angel wouldn’t have done that. She didn’t do any of this. Not only had they kicked her out, changed her locks, and destroyed her store, they’d also made a point of leaving the door to her apartment upstairs open with her clothing hanging off the stairs, to make sure if she was to look she would see they had violated every inch of her privacy.

“Goddamn assholes,” Wolf swore, stalking back to his driver’s side and yanking open the door.

It was a lot warmer inside, even though the engine had been off almost an hour during his search for Angel downtown. Wolf turned on the engine, then flipped open his laptop on his passenger seat. He would find a damn attorney. Wolf happened to know a few good men in this state, detectives who had been on the force for years. He had connections. It might take a few days, but he could have more law sniffing up Cortez’s ass than the man had the power to exterminate. And these wouldn’t be men who would take bribes or look the other way when the law was being broken. Wolf would show them what happened when they messed with the wrong woman.

“Whoa, boy!” Wolf let out a low whistle and pulled his fingers away from his laptop’s keys. What was he doing? “You’re here to catch an assassin,” he reminded himself, speaking out loud as he scowled at his hands, mid-air above his laptop.

Slapping his laptop closed, Wolf leaned back in his driver’s seat and stared out his windshield. He didn’t pay attention to downtown Zounds. When had he last gotten distracted on a hunt?

Never,
he mouthed.

The Mulligan Stew assassin had picked the perfect community to disappear in. Any bounty hunter, fed, or other law enforcement person would have one hell of a hard time not feeling honor bound to help this community out. It would distract them, take up their time, and give the assassin time to run or learn their MO well enough to successfully remain hidden.

“And I fell right into his trap.” Wolf scowled, stewing this over and deciding he didn’t like the taste of it one bit. No one got the best of him. His record was impeccable.

Wolf hadn’t once fooled himself into thinking this hunt would be easy. Hell, he knew it would be the hunt of a lifetime, one he could retire on if he so chose. But he never would have guessed, regardless how well-laid the traps were, that he would fall into them and find it damn hard to get out.

Hadn’t he already acknowledged that Zounds was the perfect hiding place because Cortez was here? Wolf had known what the traps were, how they were disguised, and yet had still crashed right into them. How humiliating was that?

Wolf groaned, leaning his head on his hand and resting his arm on his steering wheel as he contemplated his next move. It crossed his mind to march right up to Cortez’s door and demand the keys to the store, and Angel. He would tell the lowlife where his daughter was. How would the assassin like to chew on that? Let the Mulligan Stew assassin know he was a hard-hearted motherfucker. Wolf would make it clear to Cortez and the assassin in one deadly move that he wasn’t a man to mess with and that no move on either of their part would daunt him. Wolf would get the assassin. Distractions be damned.

“Hell of a thought,” he mused, knowing he wouldn’t do it.

Angel would never speak to him again if he turned over Zoey.

“Damn that woman.” Why the hell was she under his skin like this?

What he needed to do was put the whole damn town, everyone in it, and all of its fucked-up issues out of his head. What he needed to do was focus on his hunt. Maybe getting out of Zounds, away from Angel, away from all of it, might just help. He would find a place outside the community, then turn into a goddamned bloodhound. All that mattered from this point forward was finding the assassin. Once Wolf’s work was done, then he would find out if Angel was still talking to him.

Wolf stopped by the small grocery store, the only one in Zounds. He would pick up some food that he could keep in his car. He would get a cooler to keep it in. Wolf always preferred traveling well on a hunt. The work was hard enough, and at the end of the day, he did like his creature comforts. But when the job called for it, he knew how to rough it.

He entered the store, grabbed a grocery cart, and started looking for nonperishable food. No restaurants, no interacting with anyone, not until the hunt was over.

“Excuse me.” An old woman cut him off in the aisle, turning her cart so he couldn’t pass. “Would you mind handing those bread-and-butter pickles to me?”

Wolf grunted, not feeling overly friendly at the moment. He wasn’t an ass, though. Reaching for the pickles, he started to hand them to the old woman.

“Go to the back of the store. Next to the public bathrooms is an employees’ door. Go through it and go downstairs.”

“What?” Wolf frowned at the old woman.

She shook her head. “And they say I’m hard of hearing.”

“Why would I want to go downstairs?” he asked.

“They say I can’t figure things out, either,” she mumbled, and pushed her cart around his.

Wolf stood in the aisle alone, still holding the bread-and-butter pickles. Go to the back of the store where the bathrooms were, enter an employees’ door, then go downstairs? He glanced over his shoulder, but the old woman was no longer in his aisle. Maybe she was just nuts. She hadn’t even taken her pickles.

Curiosity got him into his line of work. That and the willingness to search and go where others wouldn’t necessarily go. Leaving his cart in the aisle, there wasn’t anything in it yet anyway, Wolf headed to the back of the store. Sure enough, next to the public bathrooms was a door that said
EMPLOYEES
on it. Wolf noticed it didn’t say
EMPLOYEES ONLY
like so many doors in places of businesses did. Apparently, this store was a bit friendlier about who went into areas of the store designed for their employees.

Wolf pushed against the door without looking around him to see who might be watching and walked into a dark back room. He noticed a flight of stairs before letting the door close behind him. There were voices coming from downstairs, and he easily heard Angel speaking excitedly. Wolf trotted down the stairs. What the hell was Angel doing in a grocery store basement?

Chapter Thirteen