Hell or High Water (4 page)

Johnny knew killing. How he knew was a mystery he’d given up on solving. No more poking and prodding his brain searching for the past. He had a new name. New job. New life. And after killing the girl, a promotion.

He lifted the ringing phone to his ear, listened to the security guard at the front entrance to the warehouse parking lot, and then dropped the receiver on its cradle. “Mr. A just drove past the gate.”
 

Johnny struggled to hide his complete and total disgust for the man sprawled opposite him in the chair. After this recent screw-up, he hoped to get the go-ahead to eliminate Hank. If he did, Hank would be dead by morning.

Hank grunted, pushed himself to his feet, and followed Johnny into the hall. He opened the door to the distribution center, but Hank shrugged his shoulders and sauntered the other way to his office. Spoiled rotten, rich as shit, Hank only worked because of the girls. Johnny knew he liked to sample the merchandise.

Mr. A didn’t need an escort. Johnny considered meeting the boss up front a show of respect. After all, he owned the damn place. Ran all his businesses with the control of a four-star general.
 

Johnny tightened the knot on his tie and straightened the jacket of his fifteen-hundred-dollar suit on his way to the front of the warehouse. His footsteps echoed as his boots hit the cement floor. The warehouse was closed on Saturday, and the absence of truck engines and forklifts jockeying around pallets of freight made the trip up front quicker.
 

By the time he crossed the building, the boss waited inside. With his impeccable taste in clothing, he cut an imposing figure. Medium height, around one-hundred-eighty pounds with salt and pepper hair, his slate eyes reflected no emotion.
 

Johnny’s confidence soared at the approving nod he received. He’d swapped the western footwear with extremely pointed toes for a more conservative style made from eel skin. He preferred the boot, because the knife fit perfectly next to his ankle.
 

Johnny smiled, showing a mouthful of white teeth. After all, his pretty-boy face, complete loyalty to the man in charge, and talent for violence were all he had to offer.
 

“Nice look. I knew my tailor would put you in a quality suit.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you fronting me the money for these clothes.” Johnny ran his hand over the Italian silk with pride and fell in step with Mr. A.
 

“You’re welcome. Consider the clothes a gift. Your promotion comes with responsibilities. I expect my managers to dress professional.”

“I won’t let you down.”

“Of that, I’m sure. I saw the news report on the Vaughn girl’s death. You took her picture as I directed and then conducted the search personally?”

“Yes sir. Short of cutting up the furniture, I looked hard. Didn’t leave a trace I’d been there.”

“Good. Hank’s waiting?”

“Yes, sir.”
 

Mr. A’s icy glance sent a shiver of uncertainty down Johnny’s spine.

“Did you have knowledge of his plans?”
 

“No, sir.” Thank you, baby Jesus.

Johnny could see the boss’s jaw nerves jumping like a cat set on fire. His teeth were clamped shut, making his smile even more menacing.

“I thought not.” He moved at a brisk pace toward the south side of the distribution center. “Everything else under control?”

“Yes, sir.” With a swipe of Johnny’s ID, they entered what was known as The Market.
 

Through a brilliant piece of redesign and construction, this area was hidden from the public eye. The warehouse functioned as a cover for the real business. A shipping manager and his supervisors, housed in the north side of the building, were responsible for the freight. Their exorbitant salaries and fear of retribution guaranteed their silence.
 

“You shipped the latest Market order without any problems?”
 

“This morning, after I confirmed the transfer of funds, the last two went out with a load of dishwashing detergent.”
 

“Excellent.”

Johnny stepped to the side and let the boss take the lead. They traveled down the hall past the soundproof rooms. Mr. A paused and looked inside one.

“I’ll make sure everything is cleaned thoroughly.” Johnny didn’t think the cot was much in the way of furniture, but the room came with a toilet and sink. It beat sleeping on the floor.
 

The boss passed the conference room, complete with a small stage and collection of photography and video equipment. The walls, also soundproofed, allowed privacy for picture taking and live bidding.
 

Mr. A strode to Hank’s office. Back rigid as if a fireplace poker had been surgically implanted up his ass, he stared for a second then silently turned away and moved down the hall.
 

Curious, Johnny glanced in at Hank. Fuck. He sat at his desk with his head bent over a double line of white powder. Greasy brown hair fell over his forehead. Why did the old man tolerate this shit? If Hank knew too much, there were ways to deal with him.

 
Johnny’s heart rate ratcheted up a notch. He hoped babysitting wasn’t one of his new responsibilities. Be a damn sight easier to kill the useless son of a bitch.

The boss unlocked his private office and stepped inside. His face showed no emotion when his eyes met Johnny’s. Johnny’s ball sack tightened, squeezing his nuts. A fucking shark’s eyes reflected more warmth.
 

“Tell Hank I wish to speak with him.”

“I’m here.” Hank spoke from the doorway. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and sauntered over to a chair. “I guess you heard.”

“You’re an imbecile.” Mr. A’s face flared red, yet his tone remained low and deep-freeze icy. “I’d ask what you were thinking, but the answer’s apparent—you weren’t.”

“How else am I gonna find out if the Taylor bitch has my ring? Johnny wasted the Vaughn girl before I could make her give it back. If it wasn’t in her house, she must’ve passed it to the Taylor woman. I would have asked before I killed her.”
 

“Johnny followed my orders. Which is more than I can say for you.”

“Wouldn’t have happened if you’d waited to kill the girl.” Hank sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, apparently unfazed by the boss’s piercing glare.
 

“The Vaughn girl had escaped, forcing me to refund money to an unhappy buyer. And Hank, she identified you as her attacker. Her death was necessary.”

“So the boys fucked up both tries.” Hank defended the two idiots he’d sent to bring the Taylor woman to the warehouse. “If that ring gets in the wrong hands, the initials on it will lead the cops right to my door. And you don’t want that to happen.”

Johnny waited for an outburst from Mr. A, but instead, he sighed a long drawn-out breath, staring at Hank as if he was no more than shit on the bottom of a shoe.
 

Johnny headed for the door.

“Stay.” The command sliced through the air with the finality of death.
 

Johnny returned to his place, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. If anybody else had ordered him to “stay” as if he were a dog, they’d find their guts spilled with a flick of the KA-BAR. However, he needed this job. At least until he figured things out. The money in his pocket, the new clothes on his back, and opportunities for advancement made putting up with a few indignities worthwhile.
 

One of these days, the boss would pull the plug on Hank. Johnny ached to be the one who got the order. Should his services be required, he was ready.
 

“Johnny, I’d like your thoughts on the signet ring missing. Hank was in the room with the girl, wasn’t he?”

“I’ve seen it on his finger a lot, and now it’s gone.” The hell with saying more. He didn’t have to like Hank to know you didn’t rat out a member of the team.

“Do you have men on this woman?” The boss dragged in a jagged breath as he waited for Johnny to answer.
 

“Yes, sir.”
 

“If you can’t get to the Taylor woman, find someone she values.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Offer her a trade she can’t refuse.”

Hank opened his mouth and was cut off with a hand slashing through the air.
 

“Don’t speak. The only thing you’ve done lately that showed any sign of intelligence was holding the Taylor woman at one of my empty warehouses.” Mr. A leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you’d brought her here and jeopardized the security of this building, put my operation at risk ...” The boss paused and then said, “Go get us a cup of coffee.”

Johnny shoved off from the wall. “Yes sir. Be right back.”

“Not you.” The boss’s eyebrows drew together. “Hank’s happy to run an errand for me.”
 

Johnny resumed his position, forcing a pissed-off Hank to step around him. This wasn’t over. Hank didn’t take orders well. Johnny waited, knowing the boss did nothing without a reason.
 

 
“Make those two idiots Hank used go away. Select a couple of men you can trust.” His tense jaw seemed to relax.

“Consider it done.”

“Where are the pictures of the Vaughn girl?” The man’s personality had shifted from furious to casual.
 

“Locked in my desk.” Johnny hadn’t asked why the boss wanted them.
 

“Show them to each new girl. An example of how we reward disobedience.”

“Yes, sir.” Killing the girl left a bad taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t figure out why. He shoved his momentary weakness aside. Now that he understood her death served a double purpose, his respect grew for the boss’s tactical planning.
 

“Now, let’s check out what you’ve got for the next auction.”
 

Johnny removed the card-key to the holding rooms from his pocket and led the way down the hall. He’d picked up two more girls last night. Found them inside a mall looking to meet guys. Avoiding the cameras, luring them outside and into his car had been laughably easy. He’d drugged them, brought them to the warehouse and turned them over to the night guard before midnight. Pretty ones. They would bring a nice piece of change. Though Johnny doubted one of them would sell after Hank had finished with her earlier.

“Added two seventeen-year-olds.”

“Keeping them on hand for more than a day or two is dangerous. Send out word we’re moving the date up to Monday.”

He stopped at the first door, leaned down and peered through the peephole, which had been installed in reverse. When he turned, his gaze bore down on Johnny hard.
 

“Hank tampered with the new merchandise?”

Johnny swallowed. It was bad enough Hank was an asshole and liked having a taste before the ketamine wore off, but why beat up a half-conscious girl? Johnny had no answer, but he’d caught the snick of the lock when Hank had gone inside earlier today. Oh, hell, yes, Hank had tampered with the product.
 

Johnny’s non-answer was an answer.

“Goddamn it.” The man’s eyebrows dove toward the bridge of his nose. “One of these days, Hank will cause more trouble than I can tolerate.”

Chapter 5

Nate shifted in the seat, stretching his legs out as best he could. His pickup had decent legroom for a regular-size person, but six-feet-four pushed the boundaries of normal out the window. He’d backed into a parking spot outside of Kaycie’s apartment and then spent the night watching the opening at the top of the stairs.
 

His eyelids scraped like sandpaper across his eyeballs, but he could go for days without rest. He’d been without food and water for longer than overnight. It would take more than hunger, lack of sleep, or heat to get the best of him. However, his bladder had a mind of its own. If he didn’t take a leak soon, he’d be scrubbing the interior of his truck this afternoon.
 

 
The layout of Kaycie’s apartment complex sucked when it came to keeping an eye on her. For Christ’s sake, he didn’t have a clear view of her front door. He could see who went up, but once they turned the corner, any asshole could break into her apartment.
 

During the night, three men had climbed those stairs. Nate had shadowed each individual, ready to step in, but no one went near her door.
 

It pleased him that Kaycie slept alone last night. He’d tried to boot the naked image of her lying in bed from his mind. Hadn’t worked. Why couldn’t he forget? He’d spent hours hard as a steel rod imagining how nice it would be to slide into her bed and drag her warm body next to his.

She’d have kicked him out on his ass.

His fingers itched to run over her curves and touch those sensitive places that used to drive her over the edge. She’d melted when he kissed that spot right behind her ear, or the tender flesh under her breasts, and she completely surrendered when he nipped his way up her inner thigh getting closer and closer to heaven. His skin burned from the memory of his hands buried in her silky hair. A couple of times, he’d have sworn her scent permeated the inside of his pickup.