Make It Right (19 page)

“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't sure. Give me the keys.” She let out a small laugh. “Tell Buster I'll try not to crash the Bronco.”

“I won't be able to save you if you do,” Danny reminded her. “He loves that truck.”

“I know. I'll be safe and I'll text you.” She kissed him one more time and then headed for the truck. Danny remained in front of the building, watching as she pulled away from the curb and until he couldn't see the taillights any longer.

Danny hoped that whatever was going on wasn't a sign that Nightshade was changing. He'd always looked on in awe whenever they'd rode past his house as a kid. He spent a lot of time out in the yard, rain or shine, because his mother liked privacy when she got high or when she paid for the drugs on her back. No matter how long he'd been out there, seeing the riders going by had somehow made it better. When he was old enough to roam town, he'd end up at the bar more often than not.

Looking back, he realized that the guys must have felt sorry for him at first. Let him hang around and do little stupid off jobs so that he'd have money to eat with. Food had never been one of Mona Benson's priorities. Heat and lights hadn't been either. He must have been about twelve when he realized that he wanted to wear a Nightshade patch. He desperately wanted the close ties he saw among the guys.

Mona had laughed when he told her that one day, he'd be a member of Nightshade. She'd said that they'd never want a puny little fuck like him. After all, if his own mother didn't want him, why in the world would anyone else?

In the end he'd got his patch. The first chance he'd gotten, he'd gone to find Mona, who had been in a halfway house after a jail stint for stealing a police car. He'd never been more proud than to pull up on the bike he'd put blood, sweat and tears into with his new patch and cut.  That pride had remained but he didn't have the heart to shove it in Mona's face like he'd intended. He'd found her a mess, without most of her teeth and with a face so wrinkled and full of acne that he barely recognized her.

She had recognized him, never commented on the cut or patch but had asked him for money. Sure the home gave her a roof and meals, but it didn't give her money for anything else. Mona had then gone off on a tangent about it being her constitutional right to be able to smoke a cigarette and buy a scratch off lottery ticket if that's what she'd wanted to do. Danny had left while she was still raving. He'd sought out the director of the halfway house and given him money for Mona's account and never looked back. That night he'd gotten piss drunk in the bar, barely able to get up off his barstool. It had been Buster, who'd sponsored his prospecting Nightshade in the first place, who had dragged him up the stairs, threw him in the shower and got the whole story out of him. He'd never forget what Buster had told him next.

He knew Mona. They all knew Mona, and she'd always been trouble. Selfish beyond all reason. She'd hung around the bar some but they really had no tolerance for addicts. Once she'd gotten too sloppy too many times, she'd been tossed out on her ass and told not to come back. When Danny had started coming around, they realized who his mother was and decided to look out for a kid who had no one else. They'd watched that kid grow up to be a man who they were proud to call Brother. Family was what you made of it, blood or otherwise. It was the people who saw you at your worse and didn't love you despite it, they loved you because of it.

Danny watched the door to the bar open. Royal walked out, lit a smoke and walked over to him. “I feel like I should be raising a white flag. I come in peace.”

“What the fuck was that back there?”

“It was the only way to keep our relationship with The Millers alive. You do understand how important they are to us?” Royal blew out a stream of smoke. “We all know that Amelia did what she did because we asked. No harm will come to her from us.”

“And how the fuck am I supposed to keep her safe when you just essentially exiled her?”

“Use Monroe. Paco and his friends. They're good guys. And this isn't forever. This is for now. If Joseph makes it, I intend to have a word with him about Mark. I've got the feeling that there's a rift between them.” Royal exhaled more smoke. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

“And if we can't?”

“If we can't, things will keep on as they are until Mark snaps and kills us all. Or Joseph could take offense during our talk and kill us all. If at all possible, I'd like to find the ending that leaves us alive, but make no mistake, we're standing on the raggedy edge.” Royal tossed the cigarette with a careless flick of his wrist. “We've got to do whatever it takes to keep from falling. Mark is just about to leave. We're at the table ten minutes after he does.”

“Sounds good.” Danny replied. “There's something else on my mind.” For the briefest of seconds he thought about telling Royal of Amelia's suspicion about Missy and of his own uneasy feeling about the level of joy she was getting from Mark Miller showing up, but he didn't. “Congratulations again on the kid.”

“Thanks. Got to admit, this was pretty out of left field. I didn't even think it could be possible, but here we are.”

“It doesn't replace Taylor. She's your first kid, even if Missy doesn't like it.”

“You're real close to crossing a line.” Royal warned.

“Missy crossed a line tonight. How do you think it made Amelia feel? You stood there and let her call the new baby your first child.”

“Missy can say what she wants. I know the truth. I get where you're coming from, and I'll apologize to Amelia but right now, I can't say shit to Missy. She's older, the pregnancy has a few complications because of that. She can't be stressed or upset.”

Danny had a flash of Missy terrorizing the bar and everyone there because no one would be able to say anything and stress her out or they'd have to deal with Royal. She was a nightmare now. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but something must have shown. “Last thing I want to do is stress out a pregnant woman, but I also don't want Amelia being constantly upset.”

“There's little chance that she and Missy will see one another with Amelia not coming around the bar.”

Danny realized in that instant that Royal wasn't only attempting to placate Mark Miller by sending Amelia away. He was also doing it so that Missy wouldn't be stressed or upset. “Yeah. I guess that you're right. I'm going to head in. I've got to piss.” Without waiting for a response he walked back inside.

His first instinct was to head to the bar, but the sight of Mark Miller standing there sent him up the stairs to the bathroom. Danny was drying off his hands when he heard a knock. “One second.” He hung the hand towel back up and pulled open the door. “Oh, hey, Missy. It's all yours.”

“Actually, I was hoping that I could talk to you for a minute.”

Danny nodded. He couldn't exactly say no. “What's on your mind, Missy?”

“It was pretty shitty of the two of you to get engaged tonight,” she replied, anger flashing in her eyes. “Your old lady is just like her sister, isn't she? Trying to take what isn't hers. Tonight was my night and you ruined it.”

“We weren't trying to ruin anything.” Danny swallowed his anger back. “And I thought tonight was Train's night.”

“A night he wouldn't have needed if your bitch didn't have a big mouth. Seems to me she should consider herself lucky that whoever burned her truck and house didn't burn her, too. It would be too good for her.”

“You're going to want to shut up right now, Missy.” Danny didn't give a fuck about upsetting her or stressing her out. “You're going to watch the way that you talk about my old lady. You don't have to like her, but you will respect her.”

“She's a fucking rat. I won't respect a rat,” Missy replied. “Just like I wouldn't respect her fucking whore of a sister or her spawn.”

“You want to stop talking,” Danny told her. “You want to turn around and walk away.” Missy had, once again, gone too far.

“He thought that I didn't know,” Missy had lowered her voice to a near whisper. “But I knew, the wife always knows. And I waited and I watched and I learned so many things.” She let out a laugh. “And in the end, Fiona learned that I protect what's mine.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It's supposed to mean that bad things happen to whores and rats.” Missy took a step back, smiled. “One day, you'll see her for the problem that she is, and you'll thank whoever fixes it.” She headed down the stairs with her head held high, and she never once looked back.

“DANNY!” Edge shouted from downstairs. “We're at the table in five.”

<#<#<#

The door to the basement was locked, and finally Nightshade was alone. Danny couldn't remember a time when so many people seemed so eager to speak at once. Royal held everyone silent when he lifted his hands. “I know that you've all got an issue with the way that I handled things tonight. Let me speak first.” Silence followed, which Royal took for the agreement to hear him out that it was. “I know that you all are real fond of Amelia. Well, maybe not all.” He glanced at Train. “Fond of her or not, we can all agree that she went to Harris at our request and did exactly what we asked her to do.”

“That she did.” Buster spoke up. “And to show our thanks, we kicked her to the curb.”

“To please Mark, who may I remind you is pretty much our only source of club income at the moment, I sent Amelia away. Doesn't mean I liked doing it. Let me be clear, I didn't, but I will do whatever needs to be done for this club. Right now, we're forced to deal with the more unstable Miller, so we've got to thread lightly. We've got to keep him happy.”

“He's a fucking psycho.” Train, who had often been accused of being the same thing, shook his head. “And not in the warm and cuddly way, like me. He has no intention of keeping us around.”

Brothers around the table began to nod in agreement. Chatter started, and Royal shut it down immediately. “Train is right. Mark has no long-term plan for us, but he's got a right-now plan. He's got another job for us. Moving something as usual. We're going to do the job. We're going to keep our eyes and ears open.”

“And then what?” Edge spoke up. “Miller said he'd kill everyone we loved. My sister has no part in this. I don't want what I do blowing back on her.”

“None of us want that. You can have her come in. She'll be safe here,” Royal told him. “We've just got to keep going like we are. When Joseph wakes up, I'm going to talk to him. All the cards on the table. Now, he might listen or he might kill me on the spot. We'll just have to see how it plays out.”

“No offense to the plan that you've worked so hard to come up with, but it sucks.” Buster spoke up. “Sounds to me like no matter which way you slice it, we're looking at toe tags. I might be crazy but how about we figure out a plan where we keep on breathing?”

“And what's your suggestion?” Royal demanded. “What's the play here, Buster?”

“We need a way to take Mark Miller down. He's out of control.”

“If we take him out before Joseph is well and Joseph finds out we're all dead.”

“We make it look like an accident or like another crew. Whatever it takes to get him out of the picture for good.”

“An accident wouldn't be that hard. He's high as a kite most of the time.” Ace sat up straighter in his chair. “Be easy if we can figure out who supplies his fixes. Swap or spike his stuff and he'll happily kill himself.”

“That's way easier said than done.” Train spoke up. “There's nothing quite like a bullet to the brain. Quick. Effective.” He paused and smiled. “Fun. We could always make it look like a suicide.”

“Or mechanical trouble, have his car crash,” Danny pointed out. “There are a lot of ways to get him gone.”

“It's not the right move,” Royal insisted. “We need to be smart about this.”

“Smart is staying alive,” Buster replied. “Let's not argue. Let's vote on it. Let's see who wants to kill Mark Miller and who just wants to sit around with their thumb up their ass waiting for death.”

“Those aren't exactly the choices,” Royal protested. “You all need to think, not just act.”

“I'm asking for a vote.” Buster sat up straight in the chair.

“I'm seconding.” Rock spoke up, surprising them all, since he'd barely said two words around the table. Once the request was seconded, there would be a vote. It was one of the first rules of Nightshade.

“Fine. Let's vote. Majority will rule.” Royal was obviously not pleased and Danny didn't think the vote was going to change that. He knew how he was going to vote. Mark Miller needed to die so that they wouldn't.

Royal called for the vote and Danny was right, he didn't like the results. The only member of Nightshade who voted to back his play was Edge. “Majority rules. God help us all.”

Chapter Fourteen

Amelia never thought that she would miss going to the bar, but she did. She missed seeing someone who wasn't Monroe. James was essentially living in the downstairs bedroom at Danny's now, partially to keep an eye on her and partly because he really couldn't afford the rent on his apartment without his police salary.

It had become clear that he was never going to be reinstated to the force. Harris seemed to have settled into his position nicely and for now it seemed that she'd gotten her sights off of Nightshade. Amelia was pretty sure that this was just a lull and that Harris would turn up again with some new way to dig into them.

Amelia dialed Paco's number for the fifth day in a row, getting directed to his voice mail, which was too full to leave a message. Since she'd already sent a slew of texts, none of which had been returned, she just tossed the phone onto the table.

“Cabin fever?” Monroe questioned from where he sat by the window. He was always by a window. Always keeping watch. Amelia figured he must be as sick of looking at her as she was of looking at him, but he never complained, not once.

“Yeah, a serious case of it,” she admitted as she got to her feet. “I guess this will be the pace the living room portion of the day. I just wish we knew what the hell was going on.” It killed her a little inside every time Danny left. She was still so out of the loop when it came to what was going on with Nightshade. It scared her. It scared her more than she'd ever admit to him.

“Yeah, I don't much like being in the dark.” Monroe looked back out the window. “I am so sick of all this shit. All of it.” He rose to his feet suddenly. “I need some air. I'll be out back, stay away from the windows.”

Amelia sat down on the couch with a sigh. She heard the back door slam behind Monroe and wondered, not for the first time, how everything had gotten so fucked up. Would it ever be normal or what passed for normal again? Was that even possible? She stayed away from the window, even though she was sure that Danny and Monroe were just being paranoid. It wasn't like there was actually going to be a sniper perched across the street waiting to make a move. If Nightshade's business went wrong and someone came after her, she was quite sure that it was going to be long, loud and messy, not quick and painless.

Her phone rang and she reached for it. She figured it was Danny; he was the only one who called her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” It was a female voice. A familiar voice.

“Jackie?” Amelia almost fell off of the couch. “Jackie, where the hell are you?”

“I'm in New York, with my cousin Elaine. I'm sorry, Amelia, I know that it must look bad that I took off but that bitch... that bitch was saying terrible things and trying to get me to say things. Things that I didn't know.”

“What did you tell her, Jackie?”

“I didn't know anything to tell! And she didn't believe me! She told me that Nightshade was going to come after me, told me that Royal was the one who killed Earl. I know that can't be true. When she didn't shake me with that, she threatened to take the kids away from me.”

“Jackie, how did you get away from her?”

“She had nothing to charge me with. She had to release me. She'd released my mother and the kids the day before. I told my mother to leave, to get in the car and drive. She did and I followed.”

“I'm glad that you're okay.” There were a million thoughts running through Amelia's head, not the least of it was what if this was Harris making her move. What if she'd turned Jackie? What if Jackie did have something to bargain with?

“How are you? I heard about the house. I'm sorry.”

“How did you hear?”

“My mother talked to her neighbor.”

“Why are you calling now?” Amelia moved through the house, over to the back windows and tapped on one because she hoped to get Monroe's attention, but he didn't hear her. “What's going on?”

“I hoped that you could ship some things for me. I can give you the address and send you the money to send them. I want my things. My cousin helped me find a nice apartment, there are three bedrooms and I can work at the complex and they'll take money off of my rent. I'm not coming back, Amelia. I can't.”

“What about Earl's grave?”

“I don't need a grave to be close to him. If you can't send my things, I'll call someone else. I understand you might see this as a betrayal of Nightshade, but I just can't.”

“I'll send your things.” Amelia walked over to the kitchen, found the notepad she used for the grocery list. “Give me the address.” She wrote it down when Jackie rattled it off. “I get why you don't want to come back. I really do. I just wish things were different.”

“I wish that, too. You don't know how much.” Jackie's voice cracked. “I'm sorry. I should go. I'm not supposed to get upset.”Jackie ended the call as abruptly as it had started. Amelia stared down at the address and the phone. She really did get why Jackie would stay away. It would be a lie to say that she'd never thought about leaving again.

Right after Fiona and Taylor had been found, she'd nearly done it, but the thought of Danny stopped her. She might have lived through her time without him, but that was all that she'd done. She'd simply survived from one day to the next. There had been no joy. It had just been about putting one foot in front of the other, always moving but heading nowhere. Amelia would much rather swing with the punches that came with being in Detroit and being with Danny. It might not always be simple or easy, but there was no doubt that they were alive.

Monroe came in the house a few minutes later, smelling like the weed he'd been smoking out back. Despite Jackie's call, the smoking seemed to be a more pressing issue. Not that she had a problem with it, but James would be required to give any amount of urine, blood or hair for the drug tests the department would insist upon if he went back to duty.

“You didn't go for a cigarette break, did you?”

“No Mother, I didn't.” James scowled at her as he walked over to the fridge. “Just say what you want to say.”

“What about drug tests?”

“What about them? Oh, the department. The thing is they aren't going to drug test me. It's official, one hundred percent official, that I am no longer a member of the department and I never will be again. They're mailing me whatever is left in my locker. Like I fucking want it.”

“Oh James,” Amelia had known it was a possibility, they'd all known that it was a strong possibility but to actually hear it.

“Don't.” His voice was thick with emotion, which made Amelia realize he must have just gotten the call. “Don't go all girl on me. Please.” He laughed, but it was a weak sound. Amelia moved forward. He fought her at first, but once her arms were wrapped around him, he relented and hugged her back.

Amelia kept holding him when he started to weep, rubbed her hands in what she hoped were soothing circles on his back. She murmured nonsense into his ear, soothing words in a soothing tone that she hoped brought him some comfort.

James was another Nightshade casualty, along with Fiona, Taylor and Earl. Or maybe he was a Harris casualty. The truth was probably a little of both, but all Amelia knew was that it wasn't fair, not to him or to any of them. He'd always been a good cop and even a better detective. She wasn't sure how long they stood there; certainly she wasn't going to pull away first because she wanted to give James whatever he needed.

When he pulled back, he'd composed himself. “I love you, Amelia, you know that right?”

“And I love you. And this sucks, but it'll pass. We'll figure something out.” Ever since the night he'd knocked her down at that bar there had been a sinking feeling in her stomach when it came to him. It was the fear that he was going to end up hurting himself. “You know that I couldn't take losing you, not after all that I've already lost.” She pulled back and cupped her hands on his face. “Promise me that you're not going to be stupid, James. Promise me.”

“I don't like making promises, Amelia. You know that.”

“Fuck that. I want you to promise me. I know that you keep your word, so give it to me because lately I've been thinking that you just might try to eat your gun.” Amelia kept a grip on him. “That is not you.”

“What is me? I've got no family left. My grandmother was the last one, and she's gone now. I've got no job. No place to live. The woman that I loved....” He trailed off. “She's dead. Taylor's gone. Some mornings, I don't even want to get out of bed, or these days more accurately get off of the couch.”

“You've got me. You've got Danny. You've got Nightshade. And I'm sorry for everything and sorry that Fiona never saw the way that you looked at her.”

“I don't want to talk about this. End of story, Amelia. End of fucking story. I'm going back outside.”

She knew that he was going to smoke more, or maybe take a drink from the flask he didn't realize she knew he carried. Amelia let him go because she'd done all that she could do for him. The rest was up to him, and she could just hope that in the end he'd be okay.

<#<#<#

Amelia awoke to the sound of breaking glass and a loud shot. She was out of the bed by the time she heard the gunshot, her own gun in hand as she barreled out of the room and down the stairs. Her heart was going to come out of her chest, she was sure of it.

The lights were out. Whatever was happening was in the living room; furniture crashed and Amelia made her move. She flipped the light on with one hand, aimed her gun with the other. “What the hell are you two doing? Who the hell is shooting?”

Monroe and Paco pulled apart from each other. “He startled me,” Paco admitted. “I didn't expect to find him camped out in the living room.”

“What the fuck were you breaking in the back door for? Haven't you ever heard of knocking?” James demanded as he got to his feet. “I could have killed you.”

“I could have killed you, too,” Paco shot back.

“Enough!” Amelia interrupted before the two could start bickering in earnest. They'd had arguments which lasted for days. She didn't have time for that. “What's going on Paco? Why didn't you just knock?”

“I didn't want anyone to see me. I came through the back yards. And before you say anything, I know that I haven't been answering my phone. I've had a lot on my plate.”

“Who is going to see you? The cops aren't watching the house.”

“That you can see. They've got two teams on you. Both in abandoned houses. Harris is laying low, but she's not gone.” Paco rose to his feet, dusted his shirt off. “But she's not important.”

“What is important then, Paco? Why this cloak and dagger bullshit?”

“A few weeks ago, I saw Lily James when she was walking her dog. You remember Lily, right?” Paco moved to sit down on the couch.

“Yeah, she lives across the street from the house. What did she see?”

“She saw someone going to the house the night that they disappeared.”

Amelia moved to sit down on one of the arm chairs. “Who?”

“She didn't want to tell me at first. She didn't mean to say anything. And once she told me, I knew why. You're both going to think that I'm crazy, which is why I had to find proof. And I did. I talked to Rosa, and she saw more than she admitted.”

“Just spit it out. Who is it?” James all but growled the words. He had his hands clenched into tight fists. Amelia knew that when Paco named the name, it would take an act of God to keep James from killing them.

“Missy,” Paco said finally. “It was Missy who killed Fiona and Taylor. It was Missy who burned the stash house.” Silence followed the statement. To Amelia it felt like the world had slowed down. She was going to be sick right there in the middle of the living room.

She'd known that something was up with Missy and that Missy had known about Fiona and Taylor, but for her to be the one who killed them? It didn't make sense at the same time that it made perfect sense. “How are you sure?”

“Rosa and Lily both saw her,” Paco replied. “Her salon tripled their order of pure acetone. Acetone was used in the stash house fire and the fire at your place, Amelia. I broke into the shop, inventoried the acetone on hand. Accounting for regular use on the customers and personal use by the employees, there's still about three gallons unaccounted for.”

Eyewitness statements and a smoking gun in the form of nail polish remover. Amelia's stomach churned more. “We need to bring this to Nightshade, now.” She pushed to her feet. “I left my phone upstairs.”

“Wait.” Paco cleared his throat. “There's one problem. It's a big one.”

“What problem?”

“Rosa and Lily don't want Royal to know that they saw anything. They're scared that he's going to do something to them because they spoke against Missy. Everyone knows that Missy is untouchable.”

“This isn't her being a twatwaffle to the pass-arounds or prancing around playing Queen of the Hill. This is about MURDER. The murder of my family.” Amelia moved to stand in front of him. “I get that they're scared but this is... this is bigger than them.”

“You're right. It's big. It's huge, and that's why we've got to be smart about it.”

“Are you sure that it was her?” James spoke. His voice sounded odd, deeper than normal, as if he were coming down with a sore throat.

Paco didn't hesitate. “Yes. I'm sure. I'm pretty sure that Earl figured something out, too, and that's why he's dead. I was on the phone with him that day. He got all quiet and weird. I can't prove it, though.”