SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series) (18 page)

A young guy with dreadlocks sitting a table away stood. “I’d love to dance.”
Frankie smiled and he led her to the dance floor. Okay, it was more of a five foot square of concrete near the bathrooms, but you get what you pay for.

“She’s something else.” I hadn’t realized I’d said the words aloud until Mickey gave me an odd look. “I mean, yesterday she pulled off a twelve million do
llar scam and nearly died. And today’s she flirting with some guy at a dive bar.”

“I’d be much happ
ier if she wasn’t so beautiful,” Mickey stared at her, “or so fucking trusting. Too many guys take advantage of a woman like that. Hell, I’ve done it myself.”

“She can take care of herself,” I said, trying to defend myself even though Mickey was right.
I’d taken advantage and worse I’d do it again.

Mickey laughed. “Most times,
but she’s going to get hurt. I just want to see her settled down, raising a family somewhere in the suburbs so I don’t have to worry about assholes like,” Mickey pointed to Drew, “him fucking and leaving her.”

Neil took a sip of beer. “Maybe she wants more than kids and a husband.”

Andy smiled past the thin girl sitting on his lap. “I never did see Frankie as the marrying kind. I kind of always assumed you,” he pointed at me, “and her would get together.”

Beer
came shooting from my mouth. “What!?!”

Mickey laughed. “Over my dead body.”

Guilt swamped me. I was pond scum. No, lower than pond scum, I was the slug pond scum looked down on.

“
No, I mean it. Who else would put up with you?” Andy joked.

Mickey shook his h
ead. “I love you like a brother.” He slapped me on the back. “But if you lay a hand on her, I’ll kill you.”

I stood
, draining my rum. “I need another drink.”

At the bar,
Pedro intercepted me with a wave. “I hope my products met your requirements.”

I nodded. “They did.”

“It’s a shame you won’t be staying longer.” He paused. “However I understand. The island is getting to be a dangerous place to visit.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, the cops fished a body out of the water yesterday. Tourist. His neck was snapped like a twig.”

“Accidents happen.”
My face was cold. “People should learn to be more careful.”

“
The police don’t believe it was an accident. Seems that this man was wanted for murder in New York.” Pedro smiled. “Isn’t that where you’re from?”

“Me and
eight million other people.”

He
grinned again. “I hope this doesn’t make things difficult for you and your friends.”

“What will it take to make sure it won’t?” As much as I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp, a payoff would be a wiser choice.

“A hundred G’s should ensure that.”

Bastard
. We didn’t have that kind of cash. “Give me an hour.”

“Take all the time you need.” Pedro gestured around the room to five armed men. “My associates will make sure your friends stay safe while you collect the cash.”
He gave a small laugh and gestured to Frankie. “But you might not want to dally, looks like my friends have taken a liking to your woman.”

“Don’t.
” I moved closer to him. “Touch her and I’ll make sure the last thing you see before you die is your heart beating in my hands.”

“
One hour. You have my word, nothing will happen for one hour. Don’t be late.” His word. What a joke. Pedro wouldn’t let us leave alive, money or no. A bullet to the back of the head was more his style. Instead of answering, I moved to the door. On my way out, I caught Drew’s eye, nodding once.

Plan B.

What we had left of our money was stashed in the bungalow’s safe. I rounded the corner closest to our bungalow and noticed a faint glow from underneath the door. Shit, I had company. Pulling the Desert Eagle, I slipped off the safety without making a sound. I slid the door open, keeping the gun low. As I entered I scanned the room for possible threats. When I saw a pair of long, tan legs, I let out a relived breath and holstered my gun. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Clair
uncurled from the couch, looking as blonde and beautiful as always. “We’ve got a small problem.”

Shit, if
she’d flown thousands of miles to tell me about it, it wasn’t a little one. “What happened?”

“I came to warn you
. Burgess is pressing for an indictment for the DeMarco murder. He’s looking pretty hard for you.”

Fuck. “How’d you find out?
”

“
He came to Colin’s,” she said. “Colin wanted to warn you, but didn’t think calling was the best approach. Phone taps and all. On the other hand, he didn’t want you coming home without knowing what was up.”

“
I wouldn’t put bugging Colin’s phones past Burgess. That guy has some serious issues. So why are you here?”

“Colin wanted
to come, but Zoë’s in a bad way.” Her voice broke. “The doctors don’t think she’s going to make it.”

Her words hit me like a physical punch to the gut
, and I sunk into the nearest chair. “I didn’t know.” Zoë had leukemia, she been battling it for years. I thought she had it beaten, but I was wrong.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know
. Not yet.”

“Jesus...” I shook my head.
Poor Colin. First him mom dies of breast cancer, and now the love of his life is riddled with the same fucked up disease. “Okay, let me think…Why now? What evidence does Burgess have that he didn’t last week?”

“
I don’t know. He mentioned a tip…”

Somebody was setting me up for Nick’s murder,
probably the same guy who’d called Carlos at the bank yesterday. “Thanks for coming all this way. It’s above and beyond the call.” I smiled at her. Whatever happened between us in the past was just that, the past. She’d deserved redemption.

“I care about you
.” She put her hand on my knee. “I know that sounds stupid.”

“No, I care about you too.”
We sat together for a few seconds, neither willing to break the contact. Finally I stood, walking to the safe. A plan began to form inside my head. “I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

I explained my plan and she smiled. “You really don’t think that will work, do you?”

******

Forty-five minutes later, I strode into Pedro’s with all the cash we had left—seven thousand dollars in small bills. I tossed it on the bar. “That’s all we’ve got, take it, or leave it.”

He
looked grim, his frown cutting deeply into the creased skin of his face. “We have a problem then.” He gave a nod, and his gunmen pointed their weapon the crew. They, in turn froze, raising their hands. Frankie’s eyes flew to mine. One of the desperados grabbed her by the hair, placing a pistol against her head. My eyes snapped to hers, fearing the look of terror in them would be my undoing. Surprisingly, her gaze was filled with rage, not fear. They blazed with an intensity I hadn’t seen outside the bedroom.

“You will
have a big problem if you don’t take it and walk away.” I palmed the Desert Eagle.

He
stepped toward me. “You don’t make the rules.” His fist shot out, snapping me in the face and opening a cut just below my right eye. “I do. This is my island. You want to play here, you have to pay.”

“We have.
” I slowly wiped the blood from my face with the back of my gun hand. “Take the cash and I won’t kill you.”

Pedro laughed, a high, weasel like sound.

With perfect timing Clair burst through the bar door. “This doesn’t look like the Rivera.”

Pedro’s eye flew to
hers and I made my move, grabbing him around the throat. I dug the Desert Eagle into his spine, pressing it deeper and harder than needed. A small bit of satisfaction. I could smell the fear radiating from him, all talk and no play.

“Time’s up. What’s it gonna be?” I whispered in his ear.

Drew spun around and smashed a beer bottle into the nearest thug’s head. Glass shattered and the goon dropped to his knees, white beer foam covering his face. At the same time, Mickey threw a roundhouse kick at a second gunmen’s chest. He flew against the wall. The cheap plaster cracked, leaving a body-sized hole in the wall. 

“Drop your guns,” I yelled at the three remaining
men. When they took too long to comply, I pushed the gun further into Pedro’s spine. “Call them off if you want to continue walking upright.”

“Put’em down,” his
voice shook as he gave the order.

Two of t
he three complied, but the one who held Frankie grinned. “Why don’t you drop it?” To emphasize his point, he twisted the barrel against her head. It had to hurt, but she didn’t make a sound.

No way was this asshole going to live.
I gave a brutal laugh. “What makes you think I care?”

“Oh, you care all right.” The arm around Frankie’s neck tightened
, and her face paled. “It’s hard to replace a fine piece like this.” He leaned into her, nibbling at her neck with decaying teeth. She gagged in response. My fist clenched on the gun. The gunman laughed. “Maybe, I’ll just let you kill him and keep her for myself.” He started for the door, dragging Frankie in front of him.

I couldn’t get a clean shot
so I bid my time. No way was this guy going to leave here upright. My moment of opportunity came a second later when he reached for the door, loosening his grip around Frankie’s neck. Using his momentary distraction, Frankie slammed her foot into his knee, and twisted away from him. He raised the gun in his hand, and time slowed.

Frankie’s eyes met mine for a brief second as he fired.

I fired a split second late. Our gunshots roared through the room, loud and deadly. Frankie’s eyes went wide, and she fell to the floor.

My heart stopped as terror set in. I tossed Pedro to the ground and ran for her. Frankie lay face down on the concrete, still as death. Mickey reached her a step before me and crouched down, running his hands over her back. “Frankie…”

“
Fuck,” came a muffled reply, and my heart started again.

“
Lie still. Where are you hurt?” Mickey’s voice shook.

“Where’d you get hit?” I asked at the same time
, searching for the telltale-bleeding wound, but saw none.

She
sat up, pushing Mickey’s prying hands away. “Neil’s going to kill me. I broke a fucking nail.” She held up her hand to inspect the chip.

“I’m going to kill h
er.” Relief rushed through me. By some miracle, she was all right. I searched the wall behind us. The bullet had gone wide, leaving a good-sized hole in the bar a few feet away. Of course, the one I shot hadn’t missed, not even a little. The gunman lay dead, blood and brain matter splattered the door, walls and floor. A Desert Eagle didn’t fuck around.

Andy h
eld the other thugs at gunpoint. The thugs raised their hands in surrender, eyes wide. Drew stood over Pedro, kicking him once in the head. “Bastard.” He kicked him again. Pedro curled into a ball, throwing his arms over his head for protection, whimpering like a pup. Mickey helped Frankie from the floor. “Let’s get the hell out of here before the cops come.”

I glanced at the door
and the dead man. “Take Frankie, Clair, and Neil. Go straight to the airport. Forget everything at the hotel. Get on the first plane out.”

He nodded once. “What about you?”

“I’ll take care of things here. Just get them home safe.”

“I want to stay with you,” Frankie
started to argue.

“Go. Now.”

She looked deep into my cold eyes and nodded. “Be careful.” Her face was tight with tension and worry, lines I’d put there. “Ian, I mean it. Watch your back.”

“
Don’t worry about me. Just go.”

******

Andy, Drew, and I missed the next plane out, too busy cleaning up the mess left at Pedro’s. I won’t go into details, but suffice it to say, Pedro learned a valuable lesson about fucking with tourists. Lucky for us, the cops never came and we got out unscathed. Before heading for the airport, we stopped at the hotel and did our best to remove any evidence of our existence. Thanks to a kind donation from Pedro, the hotel staff quickly forgot our names.

At the airport, we slept in hard plastic chairs until
they called our flight at six in the morning. I handed my passport to the ticket agent, and she laughed. A bad sign.

“Dan E. Boi?” She shook the ID at me.

Fucking Mickey. “Umm, yeah. Family name.”

S
he rolled her eyes, stamped my passport, and motioned to the tarmac. “Hope you enjoyed your stay.”