Fatal Deception (3 page)

As she neared the pawn shop that she knew was a front for selling weapons, she pulled out one of the throw away phones she’d bought the week before and texted her contact to inform him she was in the parking lot. She’d purposely smeared dirt and mud over the license plate and she parked in the farthest spot with her tail end turned toward the street. She’d been inside the shop during normal business hours in a different disguise and knew the owner didn’t have any video cameras, but she liked to be careful. It had been drilled into her many years ago and some lessons went deep.

There were bars over the two big windows and the neon sign that said OPEN was turned off. After her text, the sign flickered on once, then went off just as quickly. It was her signal that it was clear to come in.

After glancing down the nearly deserted street—except for prostitutes and drug dealers skulking in the shadows—she slid from the vehicle and walked briskly across the gravel parking lot.

She hadn’t had time to get gloves so she pulled her sweatshirt sleeves down to cover most of her hands and when she opened the front door, she used the sleeve. The moment she stepped inside, there were two men waiting right by the entrance. Manuel, the seller, stood about five feet ten inches and he was clearly in charge. She would have known even if she hadn’t done recon. With dark hair and watchful dark eyes, the Hispanic man had an air of cockiness about him.

He nodded at the taller, thuggish-looking white man with a shaved head and multiple piercings in his ears, nose, lips and eyebrows. Pretty stupid for a security guy to be pierced like that when his own body art could be used against him in a fight, but it wasn’t her problem.

As the taller guy strode toward her, she held out her arms. She’d known they would want to frisk her for a wire and weapons. He looked almost surprised that she was acquiescing so easily, but she didn’t have time to spare. She wanted to get her weapons then get out.

She kept her gaze straight on Manuel as his thug searched her. When his hands stayed a little too long on her butt, she gritted her teeth. “Keep moving or you’ll lose the ability to walk.”

The guy chuckled, as if the thought was ludicrous, but the rest of his scan was quick and efficient. Manuel’s gaze narrowed slightly on her, but he was silent until Mr. Piercings stepped back.

“She’s clean and has the money strapped around her middle,” he murmured.

Manuel nodded once. “What do you need weapons for?”

Mara snorted. “Are you in the business of questioning all your clients or are you asking because I’m a female?” She knew exactly how men like this operated. If she gave an inch or showed fear they would pounce like the predators they were.

“Calm down
mi chula
,” Manuel murmured, as if he was humoring her.

“I’m not your girl, your cutie, or your
anything
. If you want to do business, fine. If not, I’ll go somewhere else.” She intentionally named two of his competitors.

His back straightened and he was suddenly all business. Manuel motioned toward the front door, which his thug locked, then signaled for her to follow him.

Mara didn’t like giving her back to anyone so she kept an eye on the mirrors along the wall and the reflections of the glass cases as she followed Manuel to the back. The other guy wasn’t far behind her, but he’d given her enough personal space that she didn’t feel crowded.

The second she stepped past a gaudy beaded curtain into a private office, she realized that Manuel didn’t plan to sell her anything. She could see it in his rigid stance and when he made a move to draw a weapon from underneath the front of his shirt, she struck out first.

Knowing she only had seconds to momentarily disable him and make sure the thug at her back couldn’t take her out with his sheer strength, she slammed her booted foot into Manuel’s stomach.

Crying out, he flew backward, rolling over his desk. Though she wanted to lunge after him, she turned and slammed her foot down on the other man’s instep with serious force. He howled and swung wildly at her, but she kept attacking. Kicking out, she made contact with his knee this time. He let out a hideous scream and hunched over as he started to fall. Thrusting up with her knee, she broke his nose and ripped out his eyebrow ring with her hand. Pulling out the ring was overkill, but she didn’t care. She needed him to stay down.

Though it felt like an eternity, only seconds had passed. As she swiveled back toward Manuel he was struggling to pull himself up using the desk. He’d taken longer than she’d thought. Thankful for the extra seconds he’d given her, she quickly scooped up the gun he’d dropped and pointed it at his head while the other man moaned in a bloody mess on the floor. She then divested the thug of a revolver. Pointing both weapons at the men, she stepped back, keeping a few feet between them. Her brunette wig had twisted so that it was obvious it wasn’t her hair but the cap was on tight enough, keeping it in place. They might guess she was a blond, but her cap was low enough to cover her pale eyebrows and they were both a little distracted. She doubted they’d be worrying about her hair color.

“Do your normally rob your customers?” she asked Miguel sweetly. “Bad way to do business.”

Manuel kept his hands in the air as he stood, cursing at her in Spanish as he shot daggers at her with his eyes.

“Enough,” she snapped when it didn’t seem as if he planned to stop his tirade. “I want the weapons I came for.”

He nodded toward an oversized picture of dogs playing poker. “There are two Glock 17s, a 357 and a 45 in a safe.”

“Are the last ones Smith and Wesson?” As she’d requested during their first conversation. She was picky about her weapons of choice.

His jaw tight, Manuel nodded.

“Good. Keep one hand straight up in the air. Using your other one, pull the picture down, then unlock the safe. If you attempt to open it or reach inside, I’ll blow your head off.” She wasn’t bluffing and he must have realized that because his face paled.

The guy on the floor was still moaning and when he shifted lightly, she pulled the hammer on the revolver back. She didn’t technically need to because it would still fire, but she wanted to make a point. He stopped moving, though he continued to whimper in pain. Pathetic.

Her other gun was still pointed at Manuel. When he still hadn’t moved, she nodded at the tacky picture. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Glaring, his dark eyes full of hate, he shook his head and did as she’d instructed. When the safe was unlocked, she leaned back, staying out of range in case it was rigged, but there were weapons inside, just as he’d said. Nothing more. She knew he must have a bigger stash somewhere considering he sold illegal weapons, but this is what she’d come for. There was a small black dusty duffel bag on top of one of the metal filing cabinets in the corner so she grabbed it, keeping most of her concentration on the men. Careful to touch only the weapons, she placed them inside her bag.

Once she was done, she waved her gun at Manuel. “Take off your clothes.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“Do it or I’ll shoot you.”

He must have believed her because he quickly stripped down to his socks. With tattoos and a hell of a lot of scars for someone likely only in his thirties, she had no doubt he’d lived a hard life. But he’d tried to rob her and would have probably done worse so she had little pity.

“Now lay on the floor, hands stretched above your head. You too,” she ordered.

The thug rolled onto his stomach while still moaning and they both put their hands above their heads while staying face down. This part was going to be tricky but she’d been in a lot worse situations before. Walking backward toward her escape, her back brushed against the beads. She added the revolver to the duffle bag but kept the other weapon in her left hand. The beads jangled around her as she grabbed the metal rack next to the entrance.

It wasn’t bolted to the wall and there wasn’t much on it so she gripped it and shoved it forward onto the men. They cried out as they realized what she’d done.

Without waiting to see what happened she turned and sprinted for the front door. Unlocking it took precious seconds, but then she was into the parking lot and running without incident. By the time she made it to the car she was afraid at least one of them would have chased after her, but luck was on her side.

Tires squealing, she hauled ass onto the main road. A glance in her rearview mirror told her that no one was following her, so she allowed herself to push out an unsteady breath of relief. Damn. It had been a long time since she’d gotten her adrenaline pumping like that. It reminded her of her old job, back before she’d hated it. Back when something like this would have amped her up for more.

Rolling her shoulders, she tried to clear her mind of that. She nearly jumped as her phone rang. Her real phone, not the burner phone—which she still needed to trash.

When she saw Harrison’s number on the caller ID guilt and elation warred against each other. Driving with one hand, she answered. “Hey.”

“Hey, honey.” There was an odd edge to his voice.

Immediately she looked in the rearview mirror as fear flooded her. Harrison was very resourceful but he wouldn’t have followed her. Would he? No, she’d been so careful when she left the shelter that she would have known if she’d had a tail. “How’s work?”

“Busy. Gonna have to stay later than I thought, but I’ll pick up dinner unless you’re planning on cooking?”

Cooking was the last thing on her mind. Plus she sucked at it. “Do you
want
me to cook?” she asked teasingly, hoping her tone got him to loosen up a little.

Taking her by surprise, he pushed out an amused breath. “Takeout it is.”

“How about that Greek place you know I love?” Which they’d recently discovered was owned by a relative of Grant’s girlfriend.

“Sure… How’s work?”

She swallowed hard. “Sunday is yard work day so fun stuff,” she said jokingly, hoping her voice sounded light.

He was silent for a long moment. “I’ll pick up your usual then. See you in a couple hours.” Harrison disconnected before she could respond.

With clammy hands, she put her phone in the center console. For a moment it had seemed as if things were getting back to normal between them, but then he’d just basically hung up on her. Feeling paranoid, when she pulled up to a stoplight she popped off the back of her phone to see if Harrison had planted a tracker or something in it. The man certainly had enough high tech equipment at his disposal. She didn’t find anything though.

Adjusting her wig and hat, she took a few deep breaths. She still had one more thing to take care of then she had to drop off Pamela’s car. After that she could go home and see Harrison. He might be angry with her over the way she’d been acting the past few weeks, but she had a feeling that she could convince him to relax for the night. Maybe she would be naked and waiting on the kitchen table for him when he got home. That had never failed her in the past. And God knew she could use some pleasure right now.

The thought of having to leave him soon was carving her heart out. If she was going to, she wanted to take even more memories with her. She still wasn’t positive that she needed to leave, and if she was stronger she’d already be gone. Leaving Harrison, however, was almost impossible. She selfishly wanted to stay, to tell him about her past… God, she really needed to get her shit together and just make the break.

* * * * *

“What the hell is going on over there?” Harrison growled at his brother Porter as he took a sharp turn. Following his wife in one of his company vehicles, he was wondering where she was going now and more than agitated that she’d flat out lied to him again.

Porter grunted something unintelligible. Then, “Hold on.”

Harrison and Porter had taken two separate vehicles when following Mara and he’d left Porter back at that pawn shop in one of the worst sections of town. The place had sounded familiar and once he’d had someone look up the owner he’d recognized who it was because the guy was a low level gunrunner. And that term was stretching it. The guy sold guns out of the back of a car for the most part. Harrison wanted to know what the hell his wife had been doing there.

Through the phone, Harrison could hear what sounded like Porter arguing with someone. A few seconds and a few more grunts later, Porter was back on the line. “You’re not going to believe what I found.”

“What?”

“Give me a sec…” A moment later Harrison could tell that Porter was outside by the change in the background noise. “I just found Manuel Sanchez naked and fucked up in his office because some
puta
, as he put it, shoved a metal rack on him. And the other guy—damn, I’m impressed by what Mara did to him. She fucked him up good.”

“Wait,
what
? Mara roughed up some guys?” For a moment Harrison wondered if this had something to do with a woman at her shelter. Maybe she’d been at that pawn shop to try and talk to an ex or something. But that didn’t make sense. Mara would have told him about that.

“That’s a mild way of putting it. She also took a bunch of pistols.” Harrison could hear the ding of Porter’s seatbelt reminder as he got into his truck. “Manuel tried to say she robbed him with no provocation, but after some
convincing
, his buddy told the truth. She wanted weapons, and they planned to take her money and give her nothing. So she kicked their asses and took the weapons instead.”