Dirty Rotten Scoundrel (12 page)

Jack shrugged. “About as well as could be expected. She’s confused and hurt and angry. I told her to call me if she remembered anything, no matter how small, but I have a feeling she won’t. She doesn’t want to think about what happened six years ago. Her life was hell then.”

“We’re going to head out and meet up with Carver. We’ll keep you updated on our end of things.”

“I need to get some work done at the funeral home,” I piped in. “I’ve got a viewing scheduled for the end of the week, but I need to make all the necessary arrangements. It shouldn’t take me more than a half hour though. If you need to meet with Carver we can split up for an hour.”

Jack was already shaking his head. “We stick together. There’s safety in numbers. I’ve got patrolmen
out scoping the perimeters, and it’s going to be damned hard for anyone to get close enough to take me out in a crowd. We’ll go tend to your body. Leanne deserves whatever time you can give to her.”

I nodded and wished I could feel as confident about the whole situation as Jack did. I didn’t have a good feeling in the pit
of my stomach, but in all fairness, I hadn’t really had a good feeling in my stomach since I’d been almost strangled to death by someone I’d known almost my whole life. I just hoped it was a residual effect and wasn’t my intuition finally coming out to play.

Agent Braddock followed us to the front of the station.
My arms were full with files and the financial information Jack and Carver would be sifting through later. Jack and Braddock needed to keep their hands free, so I’d been chosen as pack mule until we got back to the car.

The sun glared brightly as we walked outside, and I realized it was the first time I’d seen it in several days. The weather had been bleary and bleak, with nothing but heavy clouds and rain for more than a week. I was hoping the sun would dry out
the ground some. My workers had a grave to dig for Leanne Mosely and it would be horrible messy work if it stayed as wet as it had been.

I’d left my sunglasses at home and squinted as we made our way down the bricked sidewalk toward the parking lot.

“Don’t,” Jack said, and when I looked up I realized he was talking to Braddock. “Keep moving.”

It was then I noticed the man across the street. He headed toward us, his hands in his pockets and his head down. He wore a light grey jacket and had the hood pulled up over his head. He moved quickly and with purpose, and when he looked up his eyes were trained on Jack. He looked down again just as quickly.

“Jaye, get in the driver’s seat. Braddock, you’re going to need to stay back and not interfere. Just follow behind us like normal. I’ve got this covered.”

Jack pulled out his gun and checked the magazine and got into the back seat of the Jeep. Braddock didn’t look happy, but Jack closed the door in his face and he had no choice but to move to the panel van parked a few cars back from us.

I wanted to ask questions, but I could feel Jack’s urgency. I dumped the files in the back seat and then climbed in and turned over the engine.

“What’s going on?”

“Unlock the doors and keep looking straight ahead. No matter what happens you keep driving, okay?”

Jack sat in the middle of the back seat and leaned forward, the gun held loosely in his hand. He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and I unlocked the doors. When I pulled to the stoplight the passenger door opened, and I had to hold back a scream when the man in the gray jacket
got in beside me.

Jack pointed the gun at the man’s head before he had the door shut all the way. The light turned green and I kept driving. Just like Jack had asked.

The man lifted his hands slowly and then pushed back the hood so his face showed. Even out of my periphery I got a good look at him. He was big like Jack, maybe a couple of inches shorter, though it was hard to tell. His hair was shaved so close to the scalp I couldn’t tell what color it was and his nose had been broken at some point in his life.

“Commander Lawson,” the man said. “What the
fuck
is going on?”

“You tell me, Wolfe.
” Jack’s voice was as steady as the gun in his hand. “Nine of my men dead in the last few months. Nine of your brothers.”

“And you think I’m the one responsible?” His anger lashed out at Jack and my hands tightened on the wheel. “You’ll pardon me for repeating myself, but what the fuck?”

“You’ve been missing for four days. Completely off the grid. Wallace’s body washed up not far from here. I can count on one finger the number of people I trust right now. If you’re innocent then I’ll apologize later. If you’re not, then it won’t matter one way or the other. Now start explaining.”

“I felt eyes on me,” Wolfe finally said. “For a couple of weeks now. I couldn’t shake the feeling, but no matter how hard I looked or tried to trap them into slipping up I couldn’t see who was watching.
I knew I was either going crazy or bad shit was going down.

“I actually called Wallace the day before I went off the grid. He’d felt the eyes on him as well, and we agreed to meet
. Wallace was always better at keeping up with everyone than I was, and he told me the others had been taken out. That it looked like we were all being ambushed and eliminated. He didn’t know who or why, but I could tell he was shaken. And you know nothing ever shook Wallace. He said we’d make contact with you and then maybe disappear for a little while until we could get it figured out.”

“How’d you find out about Wallace?”

“He missed the meet. Five A.M. Lexington Street Bridge. He was going to boost a car and we’d do a quick grab and switch when he picked me up. I packed weapons and other essentials in my pack and then set out to meet him. I knew when he didn’t make the drive by that something was wrong. Wallace never flaked on a mission. I didn’t hang around, afraid if they’d somehow gotten Wallace to talk that there would be men waiting for me too. I switched plates and boosted a car of my own, but I had to make sure about Wallace. I set up shop on the roof of a house across the street from his. It was still dark out so I was hidden. I used my scope to look through Wallace’s windows. I could see the place was torn to shit, so I packed up, boosted another car and came looking for you.

“I didn’t know you had federal protection until they tried to corner me today on your drive back from Fairfax.”

“That was you?” I asked incredulously. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“If you don’t mind me pointing out the obvious, you don’t look so calm right now either. And you just ran that stop sign.”

“I’m going to kill your friend, Jack.”

“Oddly enough, you’re not the first woman I’ve heard say that.” Jack’s weapon was still trained on Wolfe. “I’m going to trust you becau
se my gut is telling me I don’t really have a choice. But if you turn out to be responsible for even a tiny sliver of this, I promise there won’t be a hole you can hide in where I won’t find you.”

“Ditto, Commander. I’m just as pissed off as you are.”

“Maybe the two of you should seal it over a beer and by swinging your dicks around.”

“She’s kind of feisty, Jack. I like that in a woman. Are you single, sugar?”

“Mother of God,” I said, turning onto Catherine of Aragon. “You must hang out with Carver.”

“Carver’s here?” Wolfe asked
, rubbing his hands together. “Excellent.”

“Wolfe, this is Doctor J.J. Graves. She’s very good with a scalpel, just as a fair warning.”

“Is she yours?”

“Every feisty inch of her.”

“You always did have all the luck.”

“You’re both crazy.” I pulled into the driveway
of the funeral home and under the portico, and Agent Braddock was right behind us. “I’ve got some work to do.” I started to open the door but Jack stopped me.

“Wait a second, Jaye. Let Wolfe get out first. Braddock will cover him while we get out of the car.”

“If I didn’t understand your worry, I’d be really pissed off about you treating me like a criminal.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you understand then,” Jack said.

I waited as Wolfe got out of the car slowly, showing his hands to Agent Braddock as the agent kept a close eye on him. I got out of the car and Jack kept his weapon out, searching the area.

“Just leave the files in the car,” he said. “We’ll give them to Carver once we get back to the house.”

Jack went inside first, followed by me and Wolfe, and then Braddock taking up the rear. They did a quick walkthrough of the funeral home, even Wolfe, who had his own weapon in his hands as he opened closet doors with quick efficiency.

I started a pot of coffee and let them do their thing, but when Wolfe came back into the kitchen without Jack or Braddock, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off the dull sheen of the gun in his hands. So long as I lived and breathed I could have gone without looking down the barrel of a loaded weapon again.

“I see you can’t take your eyes off it,” Wolfe said. “I’ve got to admit it’s pretty impressive. Bigger than Jack’s even.” His lips twitched with good humor and he stood still, letting me get used to him.

My gaze went to his face and I watched him carefully, making no apologies for my thorough study. His eyes were a light brown and I recognized them as belonging to a cop. I remembered that Wolfe had turned in his badge and become a P.I, so he wasn’t a cop any longer, but that didn’t make the look go away. He was built like a fighter and held his weapon with ease.

“You want some coffee?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. So you and Jack, huh? He used to keep a picture of you and a couple of other guys on his desk. You were all covered in mud and he had his arm slung around you. Both of you grinning like fools.”

I smiled as I poured his coffee and handed it to him. “Flag football. We won.”

Wolfe took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “Jesus.
This is terrible coffee. It’s just like being back at the cop shop.”

“Jack normally makes it. I’ve got mi
lk if you think that will help.”

“No need. My stomach lining is already half gone.”

Jack came in at that moment and smirked when he saw Wolfe was drinking coffee. “You always had more bravery than brains.” He grabbed a water from the fridge and took the barstool across from Wolfe. “Despite the circumstance, it’s good to see you again. I asked Braddock to give us some time so I could catch you up on things. You’ll stay in one of the guest rooms at our house until this is resolved.”

“I’d appreciate it. And remember
, I’ve made a hell of a lot of contacts in my line of work over the past several years. I can use them if you need me to.”

“I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ll be in my office,” I said, refilling my cup and heading out the door. “I’ll be ready in about half an hour.”

Five minutes after the time I’d told them I made my way back into the kitchen. I’d scheduled flowers, catering, my gravediggers, and made sure I had the casket Mark Mosely had ordered in stock. I’d also contacted the paper and sent them the obituary. The viewing would be Friday night and the funeral early Saturday morning. It would be a packed house
.

“You all set?” Jack asked.

“I’m good. Did he catch you up on everything we have so far?” I asked Wolfe.

“He did. And I’m looking forward to seeing the boards you have set up. I’m a champion at research. Have to be in my line of work. I’m ready to take these bastards out.”

“You and me both,” I said.

Jack grinned and pulled me close, kissing me on the temple. “Can’t wait to get me to the altar
, can you?”

Wolfe whistled long and low. “She must be some kind of voodoo woman to have talked you into that. I didn’t think
Lawson would ever take the plunge.”

I elbowed Jack in the gut before he could say anything inappropriate, and both men chuckled. Braddock came into the kitchen, and his serious demeanor put a damper on things.

I was used to working with cops. There was a certain rhythm between us all as we worked a scene, but even at the worst scenes cops had a sense of humor. It was the same way with morticians. The humor leaned toward the macabre and would probably be seen as inappropriate to outsiders. It was either learn to have a sense of humor or break down into tears. Every cop I know would say it was better to laugh than to cry. Once you started crying it was sometimes hard to stop.

Braddock opened the kitchen door to lead us out, his weapon down at his side, and this time W
olfe and I were in the middle and Jack brought up the rear. Braddock made it to the bottom of the steps when he staggered backward, and then the report of a rifle echoed in my ears.

Braddock fell
on top of Wolfe, causing a domino effect, and for that reason alone the shot that hit Wolfe didn’t hit dead in the center of his chest. I fell backwards, the weight of Wolfe and Braddock pinning me down. My back hit the doorknob and my head rapped against the edge of the counter. Jack was still inside, and I thanked God for small favors. Another bullet shattered the glass in the kitchen door and I felt the sting of cuts as glass rained down on top of us.

“Pull them in,” I yelled over the rushing in my ears.
I had Wolfe in a hold under his armpits and I dragged him back into the kitchen while Jack did the same with Braddock. It had been a long time since I’d been in an emergency room type situation, but the flow came back as I quickly assessed the damage to Wolfe.

Jack slammed the kitchen door closed and bolted it and then knelt down beside Braddock. The bullet had hit Wolfe high in the shoulder. It wasn’t a life-threatening wound, but he was losing blood. He was conscious and looked more pissed off than hurt.

“Jack, go down to the lab and grab my big medical bag. The one I keep under the counter.”

He did as I asked and disappeared through the metal door that led down to the lab. We’d positioned both bodies behind the island for a little protection in case the windows were shot out, but it wouldn’t be much. I reached into the drawer without standing up and felt around for a couple of cup towels.

“You’re going to have to apply the pressure. I need to get to Braddock.” I slapped a towel on his back where the bullet had exited and another on top at the entry wound, and then I crawled across the floor to see to Braddock.

He wasn’t in good shape. I heard the faint whistling sound from his chest telling me his lung had collapse
d and I pink foam bubbled at the corners of his blue-tinged lips. He was conscious, his eyes wheeling around and his pupils the size of pinpricks.