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Authors: Christine M. Fairchild

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An Eye for Danger (55 page)

BOOK: An Eye for Danger
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"Good girl. Pop always told me women were hussies." He whispered ugly images in my ear as his belt buckle scraped my back. "And if you can play hussy for Sam, you can play hussy for me."

I kicked out, catching him off guard, but made no progress because he had me flattened. Between the howling winds, I heard his belt buckle unhook. My mantle of courage evaporated. I thrashed hard, sheer desperation spurring me. I'd been locked down before, remembered the futility of fighting a monster like Troy, knew the abysmal odds of Sam saving me again. But I'd take those odds over surrendering to this nightmare.

He yanked up my dress and I wriggled to get free. With a grunt he pinned my neck with his forearm, securing his weight on my back as he separated my legs with his knee and shoved fingers inside my underwear.

"Ah, I see Sam's already been here. We always liked to share women, Sam and I."

My kicks landed nowhere as he shoved his thick fingers inside me. A scream contracted in my throat for all the pressure on my neck, and my body went rigid.

"That shut you up." He rammed the fingers higher, and I stifled a whimper. My leg kicked with less and less resolve, my boot absently scraping the trunk. "Cavity searches were always my favorite. Perfectly legal, too. Shuts them up every time."

Shrill laughter erupted near the club. Little Miss Redhead stepped from the bar's back door with a man on her arm.

"Help me!" I came alive, kicking and screaming, but Stone quickly suctioned his hand to my mouth.

She spotted our tussle, my dress at my waist, my arms bound. "God Almighty." She spun around and hustled the man back indoors.

Stone leaned over me. "See. No one's going to help you now. Not against me."

I shoved my face toward the hood, flattening his palm under my mouth. I caught his skin between my teeth and gnawed.

"Fuck!" His hand yanked back. A split second for me to twist and bite his arm. His pressure on my back eased, so I coiled and kicked. My heel engaged the side of his knee, cocking his leg so Stone stumbled.

In a flash I slid off the trunk and hit the dirt running.

But he'd regained his footing and caught up to my sprint for the bar's back exit. Even if I'd reached the door, my hands were cuffed behind my back. He seized my hair and ripped me backwards. My legs twisted, buckled, and I landed on my ass.

As Stone bent to retrieve me, his cigarette pack fell into the dirt. I scooted sideways and grabbed the lighter before he hooked my elbow and hauled me to my feet, his forearm like a steel band snaring my waist, while his other arm silenced me in a choke hold. The sleeper hold.

"Real quiet now," he said, every flex of his arm squeezing off my blood flow. If he held me this tight much longer, I'd pass out. Or one quick snap and I'd never wake. "You're going to get into that car. Or you'll be the first witness I've ever killed."

 

CHAPTER 38

One push from Stone and I fell into the back seat of his Crown Vic, landing on my aching shoulder. Stone leaned over me and every muscle in my body went rigid.

"Ironic that I had to drug Sam tonight," he said, shoving my legs inside the car. "He was always dead to the world after sex with the hookers. We'd find him splayed with his drawers at his knees on an arrest. Then he'd come to, not remember a thing. Gets that way when he drinks. Who knows what Sam caught or what he's infected his partners with. Never found him wearing a condom, and he's never been very careful with other people's lives."

Stone stepped back and slammed the door. I knew better than to swallow anything he said about Sam.

He opened the driver-side door and, propping his foot on the frame, wiped off his precious leather shoes with a napkin. "Sex, booze, and money. Sam liked to live it up. Partyholic Sam, we used to call him. Always wondered where he'd hid that drug cash when his Narco case went south. Internal Affairs never found that bankroll. He traded his career for those mistakes."

"Like you traded your badge for power." My face slid across the upholstery as I rolled over, my cold sweat mixing with the stench of Stone's past customers.

A self-satisfied grin met me in the rearview mirror as Stone adjusted the mirror's angle. "You're no cheap prostitute, that's for sure. You're the much more expensive kind. I had to trade a lot of favors for you, including Sam. Frankly, Sam's just a casualty of his own stupidity. Nobody was ever going to back him on this case. Nobody dared challenge Goliath. His bad luck is finally catching up to him."

"I was backing him." My lips quivered as I spoke. "But with disloyal coworkers like you, who needs Goliath."

Ignoring me, Stone paused to check his phone messages. I couldn't kick the asshole in the head, thanks to a metal grid that separated the cab. So I looked for anything I could grab or break. Unfortunately, the back seat of a cop car is stripped for security reasons. And with my hands latched behind my back, my shoulder injured, my stomach roiling, I was in no fighting condition. All I had was Stone's lousy lighter.

"You think I'm lying," he said, not looking up, "because I worked you over on the park murder case. Sorry to burst your fifth-avenue bubble, Princess, but everything I've said about Sam is on the record. And if he was here, you wouldn't find him denying the story. Why do you think he got booted from NYPD?"

"FBI wouldn't take a dirty cop like that."

His shoulders shook with laughter. "Don't kid yourself. The Feds recruited him specifically because he was dirty. No one wanted that undercover mission. Going after Goliath is a suicide run, and Sam was the only guy dumb enough or desperate enough to bite that hook."

Nauseous, I leaned my flushed cheek on the cold window. I needed to think straight, plan an escape. And keep my guts from gushing. Stone couldn't hurt me again, not with his stories, not with his body. A bullet in the head would be a mercy after this. But for Sam I'd keep my mind together, focused.

"You look pretty pale, Julie." He started the engine. "Maybe we should go somewhere discreet, like that rundown motel you and Sam used. Bet you didn't know Sam and I've been talking all along. Who do you think invited me to meet him here? We made a deal: him for you." Stone's intent gaze told me he was fishing for weaknesses. He laughed at my hateful look and slung the gear into reverse. "Oh, now you're a tough girl. Look where that got you. Be smart, and I'll give you respect. Fight me, and we'll do this the ugly way."

 I sat up higher, inhaled a little courage. "Sam didn't make any deal with you. He wasn't going to surrender me or himself. We were heading for the state line. For a license." Stone glared at me in the mirror. "He was just baiting you."

"And look who got caught. Sam never saw Reynolds coming."

Stone was always early. I'd warned Sam, but he must have thought Stone was traveling from New York, that we had more time together before the showdown. Time to...

"He never even considered his own handler would double-cross him. And by the way, who do you think gave him the idea to get hitched? Sam's not that original."

No. No way Sam had taken advice from Stone, especially not when it came to me. "You seem to forget he's married."

He smiled in the mirror. "Cameron was a hussy too. I can verify that personally."

Jesus
. I swallowed the disgust. Sam's hate for Stone suddenly became crystal clear. "If Sam got blindsided by Reynolds, it's only because you betrayed him. But I wouldn't gloat, if I were you. Reynolds didn't sound very loyal to you either. Wait, you weren't pretending to save me at the Waldorf. You were just as terrified as I was." A flash of anger in his eyes told me I was on the right track. "My God, they really were shooting at you. You didn't see it coming, did you? That Goliath would betray the great Detective McCarthy. Not very smart for a seasoned detective."

"Nice try. But you still have no idea what this is about."

"Doesn't take a genius to understand police corruption. Or that you're just another crooked cop." But he was right: I didn't know enough about Sam's investigation—the arsons, the bombing, Troy or the sniper at the hotel—or why they were after me three years ago to put the pieces together. But I could bluff. "The only part I don't understand is what Sam ever did to deserve your betrayal. Maybe you're just jealous of what he's got."

My stomach flipped as the car spun a one-eighty, then braked hard. The engine purred as I crawled up from the floorboard and my brain slipped back on its axis. Being low gave me opportunity to get my cuffed hands under my butt, down my legs, and out in front.

Stone turned in his seat to address me as I sat up. "You see, Julie, that's what makes you so likable. Always honoring the premise of a person's goodness, even when it means you have to disregard reality. Sam's a loser who likes to poke his nose in other people's business, including Goliath's business. He turned the screws on their operation, threatening my accord with Goliath that kept them from completely taking over my territory. They do a good job cleaning up the streets, getting rid of whores and junkies and drug lords. Crime rates are down, thanks to the brotherhood. Finally, New York's safer for ungrateful citizens like you."

"You can't be serious. They're murderers."

"Goliath is a monster. A machine that can't be stopped, especially not by one rogue agent or his bitch girlfriend. But I'd rather side with the victor than fight the inevitable. Look where that got Sam. At least I know how these men think, how to give them what they're after, how to feed the machine without getting devoured by it. We're going to survive their little monopoly, Julie. You and I. And you're going to learn what loyalty means, if I have to drill it into your head with a screwdriver."

 Leaning forward, I spat through the grate. "Traitor," I said. "Disloyal to your own kind, the worst offense among cops."

His darkening eyes gave me pause as he wiped spit from his cheekbone.

Stone grabbed the grating and I jumped. "I never joined Goliath. I tried to convince them Sam was no threat. But Sam went all Boy Scout and agreed to call out Goliath members under oath, like they're the bad guys. Well, you don't break up a brotherhood like theirs so easily. A lot of powerful men have staked their careers on Goliath's success. And their money. I told Sam to back off, but he wouldn't listen, wouldn't get the Feds out of the picture. And he sure as hell wouldn't let go of his little princess."

Turning to the gear shift, Stone huffed. "I kept Sam alive out of loyalty. Play your role, Princess, and Goliath won't touch you either, because they know I can destroy them top down."

I scrambled to deduce what leverage Stone had on Goliath that Sam didn't, unless... "So it was you who stole the missing evidence. For insurance."

"Only a fool would throw away a golden bullet. Dad always taught me to save my favors for a rainy day. And you're my rainy day, Julie."

I flicked the lighter, examining the car interior for weaknesses, while I kept him talking. "So you only dated me because you thought I was Sam's girl. First Cameron, now me."

Stone shook his head. "I never understood what a high-class fuck like you was doing with a low-rent guy like Sam. Maybe you're slumming. Or maybe you like bad boys, power figures, like cops." His eyes took up the rearview mirror. "I'm not an unreasonable man, nor a poor one, Julie. I could give you anything you want—fancy restaurants, vacations anywhere in the world. A high-class life, not that old junkie truck Sam's dragging you around in, hopping from one dirty hole to another."

"That's my truck, asshole."

We'd traveled the distance to the main road, speeding toward the southbound entrance of I-87, when high-mounted searchlights blinded us from the opposite lane.

"Turn off your brights, asswipe." Stone popped down the sun visor. He honked, flashed his lights, but the truck kept coming.

With Stone blinded and yelling, I tore open the ceiling's lining.

Every muscle and bone in my arm ached as I tried to hold the lighter still enough to catch the material. I waited, chanting my prayer and hoping the material wasn't fire retardant. The flame flitted over the material, flirting with it but not taking.
Come on, come on
. Years after surviving a burning car accident, here I was trying to ignite my own casket.

"Get out of my lane, damn it." Stone slowed and moved to the other side of the road, but the oncoming truck made the same move. He slid back to the correct lane, and the truck mimicked us. We were so far north, only thick-forested mountains and gullies lined the roads, so we had nowhere to go but into a head-on collision, a brace of pines, or down a steep ditch.

Let the driver play chicken with Stone; he deserved a little eye-to-eye time with death, and I wasn't scared of dying anymore.

But my early demise wouldn't help free Sam.

I pushed the lighter higher. The fire finally took. Fast.

"You fool," said Stone, fighting flames crackling through the grate.

He swerved off the road and the car bounced and leaned on the uneven shoulder, a hair's width from tumbling into the ditch.

A siren, not ours, roared and red lights flashed from the oncoming vehicle. Another cop. My relief felt tentative.

"You're only making this worse for yourself." Stone tore off his coat, swatted at the flames devouring his side of the roof lining.

Now that the car tilted downward on the passenger side, the fire quickly ate up material near Stone's head, the cabin filled with the smell of burning chemicals and thick plumes that choked us both. Stone rolled down the front windows, allowing a draft of oxygen to fan the fire.

I called for help, but the back window was only lowered a few inches, and I wasn't sure anyone could hear me. Then Stone rolled up the back windows so I didn't get a second chance. The lack of ventilation in the back seat kept me locked in the smoke and flames, forcing me to sink back into the footwell.

A flashlight invaded the hazy cabin. "Ya'll alive in there?" The man kept his distance, his shadow leaning sideways for a view.

"I'm a cop, I've got it." Stone set his blue light on the roof, but with his car smoldering like a southern barbecue, his camouflage attempt looked desperate at best. "Keep your mouth shut or I'll shoot you both," he whispered to me. He flashed his badge out the window. "My prisoner tried to escape. But I've got her under control now. Please, move your truck out of my lane."

BOOK: An Eye for Danger
13.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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