Worth Dying For (35 page)

She went directly to her bedroom with Annie on her heels and grabbed the 9mm from her nightstand. She slapped the clip in and slid a bullet into the chamber. She did a quick search of each room and the closets. She came to an abrupt stop when she flipped on the light switch in the bathroom. Written in red lipstick across the mirror were the words: “A dead lesbian is the best lesbian.”

Think, think, she told herself as Annie followed her to the kitchen. Her adrenaline was in overdrive. She tucked the gun into the back of her waistband and tried to slow her breathing down. She looked down at Annie’s happy face and said a silent prayer, thanking God for keeping her safe. By the placement of the note and writing on the bathroom mirror, someone had been inside her house, and that pissed her off. If they had hurt Annie, she didn’t know what she would have done.
Yes, I do
, she thought. I would have killed Castrucci and anyone else responsible.

The realization and the gravity of her situation slowly begun to sink in. It had to be the mole inside the bureau. He or she was the only one who knew who Rheyna was. Someone inside the bureau was a rat and that rat had betrayed her and the Pandora’s Box team. She also knew in her gut that it was not Artie. She had a big, big problem and right now, that problem was putting her life in grave danger.

###

In the surveillance room across town, Laura rummaged through the stacks of paper in her briefcase. She muttered under her breath and finally produced her cell phone. She flipped it open and frowned.

“Damn it, my cell’s dead again. I swear I need a new freaking battery.”

Stevens looked up from his paper as she dumped everything out of her purse onto the table. Her charger was nowhere to be found. She grabbed her car keys out of the pile.

“I’ll be right back. I must have left my charger in the car again.”

###

Rheyna glanced up at the clock and grabbed her jacket off the chair. Annie walked up and shyly nudged her leg. “I’ll be back later, girl. I promise,” she said as she knelt down to give Annie a hug.

She grabbed her keys and left the house. She did a quick scan around the yard and then climbed into her Jeep.

Her senses were on high alert, and the adrenaline was flowing. She figured it would take about thirty to thirty-five minutes to drive down to the Lexington Club. Unless she wanted to get her ass chewed off by Laura, she was not about to make the same mistake she did with Bayshore. She picked her cell up off the seat and hit speed dial. She placed it on speaker and waited for Laura to answer. Oh no, not again, she thought, feeling her heart sink when Laura’s voice mail picked up.

“Laura, it’s me. I wanted to let you and Edwards know that my cover’s been blown. I’m on my way to the Lexington Club over on 19
^th
; meet me there as soon as you get this message.”

She hung up and turned off the exit that would take her downtown through the Mission District. It was an area she new fairly well. She was grateful that one of the first things she did when she arrived in Half Moon Bay was to check out the bar scene on the internet.

The person or persons who left the note knew she was FBI, and it was obvious that they also knew she was a lesbian. She figured that was why they had chosen The Lexington Club as a place to meet.
 

She continually checked her mirror out of habit as she turned up and down the streets. She turned onto Lexington and saw the bar up on the corner. She made a right on 19
^th,
and to her dismay, the one-way street was lined with cars on both sides. It was also pitch black, making it all-too-easy for an ambush. The lack of street lamps was not a good thing around a Lesbian bar.

She continued to drive, checking for anything that might seem out of place and then circled back around the block. She finally saw a spot on the right side next to an alley about a half block down from the bar.

She turned the engine off and sat in total darkness for several minutes while she allowed her eyes to adjust. She checked her mirrors and opened the driver’s door. She heard a click and instantly knew what it was and then she felt the muzzle ram against her temple. She started to reach for her gun.

“Don’t even think about it, bitch, unless you want your fucking brains all over the car,” Farino growled into her ear. He was so close; she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached in and jerked her out of the car. She then realized he was not alone. Henry Venutti was with him.

This was bad, real bad. Farino reached inside her jacket and pulled her gun from inside her waistband. He handed the gun to Henry. Without warning, he whirled around and hit her in the face with his fist. She heard, and then felt her jaw crack. She choked, and then spit out a mouthful of blood. She involuntary groaned as Henry and Farino grabbed her by the arms and slammed her against the side of the Jeep.

“I oughta slit your fucking throat right now, you queer bitch,” Farino whispered in her ear. He leaned back and then she felt his fist slam into her face repeatedly. She lost count after the fifth blow. She glanced down at her chest and felt a sticky wetness.

Farino jerked her head back and hit her again with enough force to knock her backward. She was vaguely aware of the arms that grabbed her by the shoulders. She felt her body flip over and then felt the hood of the Jeep beneath her hands and face. She was blacking out, starting to lose consciousness as her body’s defense mechanisms started kicking in. She tried to fight, but was powerless against the men’s strength.

Farino leaned over her shoulder. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. “Big Tony sent me to teach you a nice, permanent lesson, cunt, but I have my own for you, first,” he whispered in her ear.

She heard the blade of a knife snap open and felt Farino pull at her jeans. With a flick of his wrist, he cut the material away from her skin. She heard the sound of his zipper and opened her mouth. Please, no, her mind screamed, but no words came out. She knew what was coming and then everything went black.

Farino laughed sinisterly as he pulled down his pants. He was thoroughly enjoying this assignment. It sure beat the hell out of just putting a slug in some poor, defenseless schmuck. “Ah, shit,” he said, the sound of voices causing him to stop what he was doing.

Two women had come out of the bar up on the corner. They were having an animated conversation, their laughter cut through the quiet night as they stepped off the curb. The women crossed the street. They were walking straight toward the men. With less than fifty-feet to go, they were silent. They were looking straight at Farino, Henry, and Rheyna.

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” the shorter of the two women yelled.

As Farino stopped to zip his pants, Rheyna’s body slid to the ground. He knelt down beside her and with pure hatred, plunged the knife blade into her chest. He looked down at the lifeless body lying at his feet and pulled a marble from his pocket. With an evil grin, he wiped off his prints and tossed it on her chest. He grabbed his gun off the hood of the car and turned to Henry. “Let’s get outta here.”

They took off running up the alley and were out of sight just as the women reached the Jeep. The shortest woman knelt down on the ground beside Rheyna and cradled her head in her lap. She looked up at her girlfriend. “Call an ambulance!”

She shrugged off her jacket and laid it across Rheyna’s chest. She pushed several strands of blood-soaked hair from Rheyna’s face.

“Hang in there, sweetie. An ambulance is on the way,” she said soothingly.
This isn’t good
, she thought as she heard gurgling sounds coming from Rheyna’s throat. Rheyna turned her head slightly, blood pouring out from the sides of her mouth. The woman silently thanked God as she heard the wailing of a siren in the distance. She looked down at the badly beaten face cradled in her lap. “What’s your name, hon? Can you tell me what your name is?” she asked.

Rheyna tried to speak. “Rhey ... Rhey ... Rheyna Sorento.” She struggled to get the words out. “FBI Agent Kyle—” she gasped and choked. She coughed and spit blood all over the woman’s shirt. “Kyle Edwards,” she whispered. “270 … 421 … 1,” she gasped, took a deep breath and then collapsed in the woman’s arms.

“Oh no, oh no, no, no, don’t do this to me, please!” the woman screamed as she frantically searched for a pulse. She laid Rheyna’s head gently on the ground and started CPR.

Up on the corner, the bar patrons were slowly emptying into the street as the ambulance with siren blaring and lights flashing followed by police cars turned onto 19
^th
Street. The ambulance driver came to a stop next to Rheyna and the two women.

The medics jumped out and ran over to them. The taller woman grabbed her girlfriend and pulled her out of the way. They watched as the medics took over and then the woman pulled out her cell phone. She dialed the number that Rheyna had given her. It rang several times before it was answered.

“Hello, Agent Edwards?” she asked, hoping that she got the number right.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Do you know Rheyna Sorento?”

“How did you get this number? Who are you?” he asked abruptly.

“My name is Molly, Molly Armstrong. Rheyna gave me your number a few minutes ago. She’s been hurt really bad outside The Lexington Club on 19
^th
street,” she said as she heard the sound of tires locking up. “The medics are performing CPR on her now.”

“Oh my God,” she heard him say before the line went dead. She turned back around and watched the medics lift Rheyna onto the stretcher. One medic had started chest compressions while the other held a bag over Rheyna’s mouth and nose, squeezing repeatedly to force air into her lungs.

Molly felt her girlfriend’s arm around her waist. She wiped angrily at the tears running down her cheeks.

###

Laura plugged the charger in her phone. It beeped immediately. She flipped it open and looked at the menu. She had missed a call and had a voice mail waiting. She punched in her password. As she listened, her face drained of all color.

“Oh, shit,” she said as she dialed Edwards’ cell and immediately got his voice mail.

Stevens looked up from his newspaper. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s Rheyna, her cover’s been blown. I gotta go, keep trying to get a hold of Edwards. Tell him to meet me at 19
^th
and Lexington,” she said and grabbed her keys and jacket off the table. She jerked the door open and ran down the steps, taking them two at a time.

###

Edwards brought his car to a screeching halt at the corner of Lexington and 19
^th
Street and nearly hit one of the officers cordoning off the area with yellow police tape.

The place was a madhouse. Police cars and people were everywhere. He flashed his badge and ducked under the tape. He saw the medics preparing to lift Rheyna into the ambulance and ran over to her. Taking her hand in his, he leaned over and looked at her badly beaten face. He felt tears sting his eyes.

“I’m here, Rheyna. You hang in there, now. You hear me?” he said as he rubbed his hand gently across her cheek. He felt anger boiling up inside.
This is the final straw
, he thought to himself. I’m going to kill that son-of-a-bitch myself. He looked at Rheyna and shook his head. “Don’t you die on me, damn it, you hear me, Rheyna?” He dropped his head, tears running down his cheeks.

Rheyna struggled to speak. “Car, Caroline.”

“I’ll call her, I promise,” he said, jerking his head up to look at her.

The medic nudged him. “We really need to get her out of here.”

Edwards took a few steps back so they could get the stretcher into the ambulance.

“Where are you taking her?” he asked the medic climbing into the ambulance.

“San Francisco General,” the medic said, and then hit his hand against the wall to signal the driver to get going. Feeling helpless, he watched the ambulance pull away.

“She one of yours?”

“Yes,” he answered numbly, turning to see a very large man standing in front of him with a notepad and pen in his hand.