Street Safe (18 page)

If she could get to the rear entrance of the building she could slip inside and get some help. Inhaling a breath as wobbly as her resolve she hurried across the parking lot and stumbled over a chunk of broken asphalt.

Were those footsteps behind her?

She stutter-stepped and regained her footing. A soft chuckle sent fear scurrying down her spine. They’d found her and were going to kill her for sure. She half turned, expecting to see her faceless assailants and bounced off a hard body.

A grunt and strong arms circled her. That’s right. There were two. She struggled a moment, before the murmured words penetrated her frightened brain.

“I’ve got you.”

Na’arah stared into Street’s brown eyes and sagged with relief.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he demanded.

“I was just walking my sister...”

“That’s what the bouncers are for.”

“I saw them, Rue. After she left I saw the men from the spa.”

“You could’ve been hurt. All the more reason for you not to be out here alone.”

He gripped her shoulders, his fingers biting into the soft flesh. She winced. Street was right. She should be more careful, especially since she couldn’t identify the men who were after her. He had every right to be angry with her.

“God woman, if you don’t want to think about your safety at least think about the baby,” he admonished. “You don’t walk outside, especially at night unless I’m with you or one of the bouncers.”

The back door scraped open and banged close. “Did you find her? Is she okay?” Miles skidded to a halt.

“Yes to both.” Street wrapped an arm around Na’arah’s shoulders and steered her toward the rear entrance.

Miles looked her over. “She’s crying. Why is she crying?”

Na’arah almost laughed as she swiped at the moisture on her face. The man didn’t seem to have heard a word she said.

“Because I yelled at her.”

“You yelled at her. You’re not supposed to yell at a pregnant woman,” Miles said.

She halted in her tracks and swung around to stare at Street. “You told him.”

“I did.” He met her glare.

“Even though you don’t think...”

“Your hands are freezing.” Street cradled both her hands between his. “It is way too cold out here for you.” He glanced at Miles. “Whatever questions you have for her, you better ask now. I’m taking her home.”

He hustled her inside, fussing all the way. Miles suppressed a laugh and Na’arah rolled her eyes. If she’d known Street was going to react like this, she’d have waited to tell him her news.

“Rue, please stop. I’m a grown woman and I don’t need you to tell me how long I should stand in the cold. My hands are usually cold. Would you listen to me for a minute? I saw the men.”

“What? When?”

“Just now. They were behind the dumpster arguing.”

The men exchanged looks and bolted for the door.

“Stay here.” Street tossed over his shoulder. The lock clicked.

Where was she going to go? She perched on the corner of the desk. Several minutes passed before they returned.

“They were gone.” Miles announced. “Can you describe them?”

She shook her head.

“But you just said...”

“The dumpster was in the way. I recognized their voices. One was wearing a navy jacket and a button was missing. The other a black hoodie. He had on a big white watch.”

Street frowned and glanced at Miles.

“You sure about the watch?”

She looked from one to the other. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking. And you still didn’t see their faces?”

Again she shook her head.

“I’ll send someone to patrol the area. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He sighed and studied her a moment. “That’s a lovely bit of jewelry you’re wearing, Arah. Where’d you get it?”

Na’arah looked at her wrist, then at Street. He scowled as if he knew where the bracelet came from. He dropped her hands.

“Auggie gave it to me.”

Tension increased and Miles glanced from one to the other. He held out his hand. “May I?”

She fumbled the clasp and handed over the bracelet.

“When did he give this to you?”

“A coupla months ago. The night he was assaulted.”

Miles lifted a brow and she shifted beneath his heavy scrutiny.

“I tried to give it back to him. He said it was a gift.”

“I bet,” Street muttered and folded his arms across his chest.

“What does that mean?”

Miles held up a hand. “Quarrel on you own time.” He inspected the bauble. “What else happened that night?”

“Two guys attacked him. I called 911 and stayed with him until the paramedics came.”

“Did you get a look at the men?”

“A little, but nothing definitive.” She shrugged. “Auggie insisted I keep the bracelet.”

“Anything else strike you as strange?”

“He apologized for dragging me into everything.” She shrugged. “Would it be possible for me to get inside the shop? I really need to get some paperwork done.”

Miles cast a wary glance at Street. “Why don’t you tell me or Street what you need and we’ll get it. You should probably wait until it’s been cleaned to go back in.”

“Have you seen anything at the store that shouldn’t be there?” Street asked suddenly.

Na’arah shook her head.

“Anything while you were going over the financials for the business?” This was from Miles.

She studied first Miles, then Street. They knew or suspected something, but didn’t want to tell her.

“He was a lousy record keeper, but the taxes were all paid on time.” She paused. “He has a lot of history on the town and much of it centered around Hack House and the Electric Sugar Refining Machine.”

Miles stared at her blankly. “I’m sorry. An Electric Sugar Refining Machine?”

“Oh the Sugar Scandal,” Street said. He turned to Miles. “The original owners of the house figured out a way to scam their stockholders back in New York. The Electric Refining Machine was supposed to be a more efficient way to turn raw sugar into a finer texture.”

Miles waved his hand to fend off any further explanation. “Yeah, yeah. I remember Auggie and Derrick going on about that one night at our poker game. There was some speculation there may have been some cash secreted on the premises.”

“From my understanding, all the money was spent on the house and renovations at the time,” Street said.

“A few of the stock certificates that were issued came up for auction recently,” Na’arah said. “I do remember seeing those in the file.”

They exchanged looks.

“What does that mean?”

A knock sounded on the door. Street limped to the door and threw it open. Beau stood on the threshold.

“I have a customer asking for you,” he said. He stared just beyond Street. “Where did you get that?”

Street followed his gaze and Miles quickly pocketed the bracelet.

“I’ll be out in a minute, Beau.”

“I-I think I need to lay down,” Na’arah said.

“Go do what you need to do, I’ll stay with her.” Miles offered.

Street cast a worried look over his shoulder, but left.

Miles helped Na’arah upstairs. “He really does have your best interest at heart.”

Na’arah shook her head. “Yes, I suppose he does.” They paused at the top of the stairs. “Have you found anything that will catch Auggie’s killer?”

“We have a couple of leads, but it’s still best if you stay with Street.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I figured as much. I need the paperwork from the office brought over.”

“I can arrange that.”

Miles plucked the key from her hand, unlocked the door and walked through the space. He returned to where she was standing and dangled the key from his index finger.

“Thanks.” She accepted the proffered item. When she realized he was still standing there, she faced him. “Was there something else?”

He shook his head. “Just waiting for you to get in safely.”

She chuckled, entered the apartment and locked the door behind her. At least this way no one could really get to her. She replayed the events in her head. Being alone in the parking lot had spooked her, but there was something else as well. The argument. She recognized one of the voices.

****

The bar was quiet. All the chairs had been placed on the tables, the stickiness from the day mopped away. A man perched on one of the bar stools, his back to Street, but Street approached him nonetheless.

“Does this mean I need to find someone else to pour my heart out to?” Derrick was saying. He chuckled. “No, I’m off tomorrow.” An exasperated sigh filled the silence. “Yeah, yeah I’m going to a meeting.”

Street tapped the bar with his cane and Derrick glanced over his shoulder with a smile.

“Gotta go. The owner of this here establishment is kicking me out.” He swiveled on the stool and frowned. “What’s with the cane? I haven’t seen you use that in months.”

“Lot of activity around here, lately.” He leaned against the counter. “So you’re still going to Gamblers Anon.”

Derrick’s head bobbed up and down. “Got to. Between those and talking with a couple of my sponsors, that’s the only thing getting me through the day sometimes.”

“And business?” Street lifted the cane, a sturdy black beech wood walking stick with a sterling silver skull shaped handle, and blew a minuscule speck of dust from the top. He met and held Derrick’s gaze.

“Gearing up for the fall. I actually got a couple new contracts that have really helped this year.” He slowly slid off the cushion, keeping a wary eye on his friend. “Is something wrong?”

Street almost smiled. If nothing else the man was always perceptive. He shrugged, just a casual ripple of his broad shoulders. “Nope. Should there be?”

Derrick swallowed, clutched his phone a little tighter and stepped backward. “That’s what I’m asking you. The last time you wore that calm-but-I’m-still-gonna-kick-your-ass expression was when a coupla enforcers came looking for me and trashed the bar.”

“I have some questions.”

“Anything you wanna know.”

“That night. When you let yourself in my place...”

A quick smile curved his lips and his shoulders sagged as he blew out a breath. “Is that what this is about? God, Street, you had me worried. If I’d known Na’arah was there I wouldn’t have let myself in.”

“Why were you holding her?”

“She looked rattled and crying. I couldn’t just not help.”

Street advanced a step and Derrick stumbled backward, colliding with a bar stool. The furniture toppled and clattered to the floor.

“Is that what this is about? Man, seriously. We’re just friends. She listens and...hey!” He jumped back when the cane came toward his knee. “Have you lost your fucking mind? Ever since she walked into this bar, you’ve acted nuts. Everyone knows you have a thing for her. What type of fool would I be to show any interest toward her?”

He halted, studying the man before him. Derrick was a lot of things, but he’d never actually bothered any female Street was serious about, except maybe to flirt a little, but that was it. Even now beads of sweat popped out on the man’s brow and his eyes flickered between the exit and him.

“Is that it? You satisfied that I’m not stealing your lady friend?”

“Did you kill Auggie?”

Derrick gaped, stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it around. “Sorry. Could you repeat that? I could’ve sworn you just accused me of murder.”

Anger and hostility filled the strained silence. Finally Derrick huffed and held out his hand palm up.

“Street, I know you and Auggie didn’t always see eye to eye, but accusing me of something so heinous won’t bring him back.” He moved closer. “He was my friend and I’d like to know who took him away from us far too soon.”

For a moment, Street stood speechless. He hung his head in shame. He’d just accused one of his best friends of murder and Derrick was offering solace. Some friend he was.

“Derrick. I...”

An easy smile creased his lips. “No problem. I’ll just count it toward all the favors I owe you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “We cool?”

“Yeah,” Street said with a chuckle.

“You sure? ‘Cause I don’t want to have another late night conversation with you and your cane.”

Street chuckled and trailed him to the door, using the cane for its intended purpose. “I’m sure.”

“I’ll see you at the funeral.” Derrick disappeared into the night whistling some nondescript tune.

Street closed and locked the door. He flicked off the lights. If Derrick wasn’t involved, which was a relief, then who was?

Rue Street Bar & Grille was closed out of respect for Augustus Mark Callan, yet it seemed everyone in town gathered for the family meal. The establishment buzzed with conversation and laughter. There were plenty of Auggie stories to tell.