Red (13 page)
Now it was my turn to fume. I gave him a hard shove away from me, then advanced on him this time. “First of all—Back. The Fuck. Off.” I gave his shoulder another shove, but this time he was ready and didn’t budge. Regardless, I spat, “I don’t know what the hell you’re so mad about. The kid is obviously having a rough time of it, so I thought Gran could maybe—”
“You gave her Gran’s number?” he interrupted.
“Yeah,” I huffed. “Gran’s helped out some other girls over the years besides me. I thought maybe she could help Alice find a new job. Hell, I don’t know—maybe get her some counseling or something.”
Nate looked suddenly sheepish—well, about as sheepish as Death could. “I thought you’d sent her to Snow.”
For a moment, I could only stare at him, unable to believe that he had thought me capable of such a thing. Did he really think that after what I’d been through in my youth that I’d talk some poor vulnerable waif into a life of prostitution? I shook my head in disbelief, trying to ignore the ache of disappointment twisting my heart. With a wounded laugh, I slammed the car door and started walking.
“Red, I’m sorry!” Nate called after me. I heard his footsteps on the pavement as he hurried to catch up with me, but I didn’t slow my pace until he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. “I said I’m sorry. I should have known you’d never do anything like that.”
“Yeah, you should have.”
“Will you forgive me?”
I lifted my eyes to his, fully prepared to tell him off again—this time with a little more profanity—but the sincere regret and shame I saw there made me change my mind. “I’ll think about it.” With that, I turned and started walking again.
“Where are you going?” he asked. “Come back to the car. I know you’re pissed but—”
“Tim Halloran’s warehouse is in this same complex,” I said, cutting him off. “We might as well pay him a visit while we’re here, don’t you think?”
I heard Nate laugh as he fell in beside me. “You know, you could have just said that’s where you were going from the very beginning instead of making me beg.”
“It would have ruined the drama,” I replied, “and significantly diminished my enjoyment from watching you squirm.”
“You’re incorrigible. You know that, don’t you?”
I cast him a coy, sidelong glance. “And yet here you are.”
Nate shoved his hands into his pockets, a slow smile curving his lips. “Here I am.”
Chapter 17
Any self-respecting head of an organized crime operation has a successful front business to hide his more questionable activities, and Tim “the Sandman” Halloran was no exception. To most of the world, he was known as President and CEO of a highly respected independent pharmaceuticals wholesaler, Dreamland Distributors.
But, in addition to being the Medical Magnate of the Midwest, Halloran was Chicago’s most feared and reviled drug lord. Or so we suspected. We couldn’t prove it. Over the years, we’d pinched more than a handful of Halloran’s people in drug busts and had seized truckloads of black market pharmaceuticals being smuggled to cities around the country, but we’d never been able to make anything stick to Halloran. Several layers of plausible deniability always seemed to exist between him and prosecution, making him completely untouchable.
It was bad enough that Halloran was dealing in the usual high-end Ordinary drugs like cocaine and other, more difficult to come by products that soccer mom drug addicts wanted to hide from their PTO peers. But he also was the sole provider of fairy dust—or Vitamin D, as it was called on the street—the most addictive and dangerous drug a Tale could possibly ingest.
In small quantities, fairy dust could create a feeling of euphoria, confidence, the belief you could do anything. Tale doctors used it to treat severe depression in their patients, but intake had to be monitored carefully for the safety of the patient. In fact, in order to get their weekly dose of Vitamin D, patients had to visit a fairy clinic to have it administered by a certified fairy dust distributor. The likelihood of addiction was almost guaranteed, and, from what I understood, weaning off it was a bitch, with the withdrawal symptoms sometimes leading to suicidal thoughts or violent rages—even hallucinations and paranoia.
Unfortunately, Halloran was an opportunist who had seen a need in the community and had filled it, peddling D on the street with the nonchalance of a hotdog vendor. He didn’t care how many people got hurt or how many lives were ruined as a result of his activities. It was all about making money. And Halloran was raking it in hand over fist.
Putting Halloran away for good and getting his poison off the streets was about the only thing that Mary Smith and I saw eye to eye on (although I’d never admit it to her). One of these days, I was going to take down the son of a bitch, but today I just wanted to know more about his connection to Dave Hamelin.
Not wanting to tip off Halloran and his people to our presence too early, Nate and I came around the side of the building through a loading area shared by Halloran’s warehouse and the one next to it. A couple of trucks were parked at the loading docks, waiting to be put into service, but otherwise it was quiet.
“Halloran’s office is just inside the main door,” I told Nate, motioning toward the front of the building.
“Anybody we should be worried about?” Nate asked.
I shook my head. “Just the usual thugs. His people all carry, so watch for anybody who looks a little too twitchy. Other than that, just don’t make any sudden movements or appear too threatening. I don’t want them to think we’re here to bust them.”
Nate gave me a tight nod. “Got it. I’ll just follow your lead.”
“About time you—” My words were cut off by Nate jerking me off my feet and behind a stack of empty mattress boxes. “What the—”
He held a finger to his lips and looked hard at the side door. I gasped when I saw who was exiting.
“What the hell’s she doing here?” I whispered.
Nate shook his head, then nodded toward where Sebille Fenwick was charging down the stairs. Her hair was down and she had traded her business suit for jeans and a yellow turtleneck sweater, but the scowl she’d been wearing the day we’d met her was still firmly in place. She looked flat-out pissed.
A split second later, one of Halloran’s people came out of the same door and hurried after Sebille, catching up to her quickly in spite of her angry strides. The guy caught her by the elbow and pulled her to a halt. They had a quick moment of conversation that looked more business than social. Then the guy placed a small package in Sebille’s hands. She glanced down at it, then nodded. She still looked angry, but her expression was a little less harsh than before. Apparently, whatever the guy had told her had placated her at least a little.
Sebille glanced around, then said something else before hurrying off and disappearing around the corner of the neighboring building. Halloran’s employee went back inside, apparently unaware of our presence just a few yards away.
“What was that all about?” I wondered aloud.
“We should follow her and see where she goes,” Nate suggested, coming out from behind the boxes.
“Why don’t you tail her,” I said, “and I’ll go have a chat with Halloran.”
Nate gave me a look that told me he was about to remind me of my promise to be more careful, but I cut him off before he could protest. “Listen, Halloran knows me. He knows that if I was coming to bust him I’d be bringing a fleet of agents with me. He also knows that I wouldn’t be stupid enough to come see him without telling someone where I was going. I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you back at the car.”
Nate glanced in the direction Sebille had gone, obviously as curious as I was to know what she was up to. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said. “Now get going before you lose her.”
He pressed his lips together and looked at me like he wanted to say something else, but instead he just gave me a nod and vanished in a blur of black mist. With Nate gone, I made my way around to the front of the building.
The minute I stepped inside, pain exploded in my head with such shocking force I dropped to the ground, fully expecting to see stars and canaries circling above me. Instead, I saw the face of the man at the loading docks as he peered down at me. Then there was only darkness.
I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious when I finally came to, but I knew for a fact I wasn’t at the warehouse anymore. I was lying on a soft bed in total darkness except for a sliver of light that seeped in under the door. I patted my pockets, not surprised to find my cell phone and gun missing.
Groaning at the pounding pressure in my head, I sat up slowly and allowed my eyes to adjust to the light. I could dimly make out the outlines of a chest of drawers and a few other pieces of heavy furniture in the small room, but not well enough to determine to whom they belonged.
Not wanting to wait to find out, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and made for the door, but was jerked off my feet before I’d gone more than a few strides. I cried out in pain, belatedly realizing my right arm was shackled to the bedpost. I cursed under my breath and tried to work my hand loose, twisting and pulling against the heavy iron and trying to ignore the searing pain as my skin peeled away. I was just starting to make some progress when the door swung open, the sudden column of light making me wince.
“Awake at last, Enforcer?”
I glared at the man silhouetted in the doorway. “No thanks to your goon.”
Tim Halloran sauntered in, his pale brown eyes glinting with smug amusement. “I’m afraid Aloysius overreacted when he saw you come in. He thought you were a burglar.”
I sniffed dismissively. “I’ll bet.”
“I humbly apologize for my colleague’s overzealousness.” Halloran offered me a smooth, charming smile, his teeth a little too white and perfect to trust. “And, I assure you, the moment I learned of what had occurred, I insisted you be brought to my home until you awakened.”
I held up my arm, indicating the cuff on my wrist. “Yeah, well, your hospitality sucks, Halloran.”
He lifted his arms at his sides in a conciliatory gesture. “Again, I must ask your forgiveness, my dear, but it was for your own protection. I couldn’t have you wandering around unfamiliar surroundings. You might have come to harm.”
I gave him a skeptical look. “In your
house
?”
house
?”
“Sophia,” he called over his shoulder. “Come here, my darling.”
On cue, a white Bengal tiger padded into the room and affectionately rubbed her massive head against Halloran’s leg. She purred loudly as he reached down and scratched behind her ear.
“Sophia is a docile creature,” he explained mildly as the big cat came slinking slowly toward me to investigate, “but she’s terribly possessive of me. She doesn’t care to have other women infringing upon her territory.”
I scooted back up onto the bed and tucked my legs under me. “You can tell her she has nothing to worry about,” I murmured. “You’re the last guy I’m interested in.”
Sophia sniffed the air around me, then put her front paws up on the bed, leaning closer, all the better to gobble me up. I cringed, edging as far away as the shackles would allow.
“Come, Sophia,” Halloran said gently. “She means me no harm. Isn’t that right, Enforcer?”
I nodded. “Yep. I just came to talk. That’s all.”
Sophia regarded me for a moment longer, then let her paws fall back to the floor. As she padded unhurriedly back toward Halloran, there was a shimmer of white light in the air, and where the tiger had been, now stood a beautiful young woman with long white hair, which perfectly complemented the white streaks in Halloran’s sandy locks.
She twined her bare body around Halloran, nuzzling under his chin in a disconcertingly feline motion. He stroked a gentle hand down her hair along her back and down her backside, making her arch and purr with delight at his questing touch. She lifted her unmistakably hungry gaze to his and was rewarded with a kiss so deep and passionate, I suddenly felt like a voyeur on the set of an upscale porno. I averted my eyes and coughed to remind them I was still there.
“I will come see to you soon, my darling,” I heard Halloran say softly.
I looked his way just in time to see the lovely Sophia drift out into the hallway. “That’s, uh . . .” I wasn’t even sure what to say.
Disturbing
came to mind. But I figured it was better to just let it go. After all, I was still handcuffed.
Disturbing
came to mind. But I figured it was better to just let it go. After all, I was still handcuffed.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Halloran asked, his admiration of the lovely shape-shifter evident.
“No denying that,” I confirmed, figuring agreeing with him on such an obvious fact was pretty safe territory. Then I lifted my wrist again. “So, now that your girlfriend and I have met, you think you can take this off?”
Halloran came forward and produced a key, unlocking the cuff. “There you are. See? No harm meant.”
I rubbed the raw skin on my wrist and eyed him warily. “Now you want to give me back my stuff?”
Halloran clasped his hands behind his back and gave me that artificial smile of his. “In due time. But I believe you wanted to talk. Come—let us move to my office.”
I followed him out of the room and through a circuitous network of corridors and stairways that had so many twists and turns that by the time he came to the room he sought, I had long ago lost track of lefts and rights, ups and downs, and was hopelessly lost. There was no way I could’ve found my way to the bathroom, let alone the front door. Which I’m sure was the point.
“After you,” he said with a polite sweep of his arm.
I scanned my surroundings as I entered, taking in at a glance the Chippendale furniture, Baccarat crystal, and other finery that would have looked gaudy and showy in a smaller room. I had to admit, Halloran had good taste—or at least his decorator did. I took a seat in the chair across from his desk, forcing him to the other side.
He folded his hands placidly and regarded me evenly, his smile still draping his lips. “Now, how may I help you?”
“I want to know about your relationship to the Pied Piper,” I said, coming straight to the point.
“He took care of a rat infestation at my warehouse,” he replied. “Quite effectively, I might add. I was very happy with his work.”
“He’s dead,” I told him, watching his reaction closely. He didn’t even flinch.
“A pity,” he said. “How did it happen?”
“He committed suicide.”
Halloran shook his head. “How horrible. Do you know why?”
“If I knew why, I wouldn’t be here,” I snapped. “Word has it that Todd Caliban recommended Hamelin to you. Is that right?”
Halloran nodded. “Yes. Caliban had a similar problem at his café and the steak house as well, I believe. He was very happy with Hamelin’s work and recommended him to me.”
I leaned back in my chair, assuming a casual pose similar to Halloran’s. “Remind me how you know Caliban?”
“We are business associates,” he said tersely.
I lifted my brows a bit. “Caliban’s going into the pharmaceutical business now?”
This time Halloran’s smile was a little tighter. “You have it backward. I am going into the restaurant business. I have long thought Caliban to be a very talented chef, and with his television show doing well, I saw an opportunity to invest in his future.”
“Meaning what?” I asked cautiously. The thought of Halloran investing in anything concerning Caliban made me nervous.
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