Where There's Smoke (14 page)

“Of course.” She turned to Denise. “I'm expecting someone from the DA's office as well. Please let me know when they arrive.”

Dumbfounded, Denise nodded. Her mind abuzz. She knew Veronique was handling the case, but nobody told her the FBI would be involved. She watched the three disappear down the hall, wishing Ms. Connie was there so she could eavesdrop on the proceedings. Fifteen minutes later, she pulled her bottle of water from beneath the desk as the phone rang. Swallowing quickly, she choked out a greeting and looked up.

Three men with wild colored tattoos, short hair cuts and a hoop earring in their right ears stared at her. The pug noses they shared sent images of the three little pigs through her mind. Except these pigs were armed and stood in front of her desk, legs braced apart.

One of the men signaled the other two and they moved slowly down the hall as he hung up her phone. She dropped the bottle and gripped her chair, feeling the water run down her leg.
Oh shit
. The man in front of her glared menacingly as he checked her area. She noticed familiar tattoos on his arm and pushed down her fear. She definitely remembered where she'd seen them before. These men were with that slave-owner, Top.
Where the hell was Red
?

He signaled for her to stand and walk away from her desk. Shakily, she stood and looked at her wet pants before moving sideways. The man still hadn't spoken. He walked behind her, gun out, toward the rear of the building. Heart pounding, she took short sips of air trying to dispel the acrid taste in her throat. She hoped everyone would be cool so they'd survive this day. A crash from the back, the sound of scuffling and soft puffs stopped their progression. An arm snaked around her neck, pulling her into a darkened office. Tremors wracked her body. He squeezed her neck, cutting off oxygen.

“Don't make a sound,” a gruff voice said into her ear, his hot breath teased her hair. She would've nodded but the hold was too tight. Fear battled the need for air. They stood back to front for agonizing moments. A loud roar sounded through the building. Denise closed her eyes.
Red
. A chorus of footsteps resounded near the room. The arm around her neck tensed. The man's breath hitched. He pulled her closer. She felt his heartbeat increase.
Please don’t do nothing silly, Red.

Footsteps passed their doorway. He relaxed for a second. The door crashed open. Red didn't hesitate. He charged the man holding her. In horror, she watched the hand holding the gun snap up and she batted it to the side. The bullet went flying in the other direction, his grip loosened. Denise rolled to the side the moment Red grabbed the man. Shaking like a windblown leaf and panting for breath, she watched the love of her life pummel the face of the unknown man. The cracking and popping of bones filled the air along with his grunts of rage.

“Stop him,” she cried, her voice a whispery thread from her abused throat. No matter what, she didn't want to lose him, not like this, not over this.

Ross and Smoke tried to stop him. Chaos reigned. Cherise and Veronique wrapped their arms around her and led her to the conference room. Police ran into the room. What felt like a lifetime, happened in a few minutes. Denise had just sat when Red stormed into the room, eyes wild until they rested on her. Everyone backed up as he ran and lifted her. Tears in his eyes, he held her tight.

“Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry,” he whispered, rubbing her back offering her comfort.

Vianca walked into the conference room behind a stunned Smoke. Blindly he reached and held her hand. She appreciated the added warmth.

Three men tried to kill them.
In broad daylight. She was no safer here than anywhere else. Chills raced up and down her spine as she tried to wrap her mind around it. The police, the Sheriff and FBI agents swarmed the halls. The seven of them sat quietly while Red took care of Denise.

“Those were some bold assholes,” Veronique spoke into the quiet, looking at her blackberry and making notes. “Dumb too.” She looked at Cherise, grinning. “You'd think they would have seen the Feds walk inside a little while ago.” She shook her head. “They thought they had problems before.”

“The guy who had the gun on me had tattoos like the pictures we saw when Blaine and Donald were here,” Denise said.

“Do you remember which tattoo?” Smoke asked watching Red tense, and then Denise.

“I'm not sure.” She snuggled closer to Red.

Ross stood. “I'll be right back.” Smoke stood and followed him out the door. Red picked Denise up and moved closer to the door before settling her on his lap.

Vianca couldn't believe the tears in the big man's eyes. Surreptitiously, she watched the interaction between the mixed couple. Red held Denise as if she was the center of his existence and Denise latched onto him with equal ferocity. Vianca had never seen this type commitment in any relationship. Not her father and his wife, none of her friends or relatives had ever been the recipients of this kind of adoration or affection. Denise looked at her and smiled. Teary eyed, she returned the smile as her wall of biases took another hit. Who was she kidding? The past few days, she'd seen love in action without regard to complexion or accent. Employees came to the office and hung out, simply because they enjoyed one another's company. Carlos, the Latino, was as committed to Ross and Red as he was to Smoke. He'd talked to her briefly and had nothing but rave reviews about the character of the trio. Without saying in so many words, he let her know he'd take a bullet for Red, Ross or Smoke in a heartbeat and he wasn't the only one.

Smoke and Ross returned to the conference room, faces grim. Veronique had stepped out to speak to the Sheriff and the FBI agents. All three men were in custody. All were ex-cons. All were slaves to Geary, or Top. Simply put, it'd been a suicide mission. Tank, Carlos and Joe had stopped the two men in the halls and would've killed them if the FBI weren't on site. Red had been overseeing the unloading of a shipment when he discovered the men were in the building and went ballistic when Denise didn't answer her cell. The fool who took her was unconscious.

“Everything okay?” Cherise asked when nobody said anything.

“Good eye, Denise.” Smoke sat at the table near Vianca. She squeezed his balled fist. Surprised, he looked at her, and nodded. “The men were Geary's slaves.”

“I hope to fuck this doesn't mean we can't still visit that punk,” Red growled, holding Denise in his lap.

Ross rubbed his neck, twisting it from side to side. Cherise stood and massaged his neck and scalp. “Thank you, Baby,” he groaned. “Sheriff's pissed we didn't tell him what was going on. He's not happy the Feds are in his backyard. Now may not be the best time to have a face to face. Especially, when you plan to beat him into a coma. Besides, the FBI intends to look into the matter of inmates masterminding hits like this. A new can of worms just exploded.”

Smoke smiled humorlessly. “Only a fuck up like Geary would send a hit squad during an FBI interrogation. What are the odds?”

“What are the odds those muthafuckers would be dead if not for the FBI?” Red snorted. “It took two men to get Tank off that sucker.”

“It took Ross, the Sheriff and me to get you off that other bitch,” Smoke snorted.

“You shoulda let me cap that bastard.” Red's face colored, and his jaw tightened. Denise rubbed his face and kissed him. Vianca discovered of the three, Red was the most volatile, the most demonstrative and the friendliest. He'd walked up to her numerous times and asked if she needed anything, if everything was okay. After the shock of the first time, she didn't cringe when the hulking man approached. It was hard not to like him, he said what he felt and left it at that. He had a take it or leave it persona. She appreciated that.

“Denise woulda killed me if you missed the wedding. I'm not crazy,” Smoke said.

“Thanks, guys,” Denise choked. “This needs to end. Are we close to the end yet?” Silence echoed in the room at her heartfelt question.

“We're getting closer,” Ross said. “The lawsuits are being handled. The Feds have the tapes and pictures from Smoke's kidnapping.” Ross looked at everyone in the room. “That's why they're here today to question them. We start two new jobs in a few days. As far as this vengeance thing with Geary, I don't know. We planned to pay him a visit, but it'll be hard now with everyone watching.”

“So the FBI is looking into the inmate sending cronies out to kill, huh?” Denise asked.

“Yeah,” Ross said. “They seemed excited and called for a detail to meet the men at the hospital. Sheriff argued with them for a minute, they walked to the side and came to some sort of agreement.” He shrugged. “Trust me, the Sheriff will be in here to blow us out before he leaves.”

“Yeah,” the Sheriff said walking into the room, his eyes taking in everything at once. “I damn sure am. Why the hell didn't you tell me Smoke had been kidnapped?” He walked over to Vianca. “Hello, pretty lady, I don't believe we've met.” He took her hand and shook it gently, watching her face the entire time. She didn't doubt for one minute he'd sized her up and placed her in some type category.

“Vianca Marino.” His brow rose, waiting for her to say more. Angling her face to the side, she squinted up at him.

“Who are you and why are you with these ruffians?” He continued to hold her hand and stare. She smiled as tension flowed from her. She could bullshit with the best of them. This was her area of expertise.

“Private investigator, I saw the men place Smoke in the room with the deceased and helped him leave undetected.” His brow rose. He studied her face a second more and squeezed her hand. Turning, his eyes landed on each partner. He pulled out a chair and sat facing them.

“Start talking.” He looked at Smoke. “Who took you?”

Smoke shrugged, “I don't know.” He looked him in the eye. “I don't remember much and they hit me before I got into the car. Wherever they took me was dark as well. Later, when I saw the pictures, I still didn't recognize who they,” he paused, “are.”

Vianca glanced at him, picking up on his hesitation. He'd almost spoke of them in the past tense.

The Sheriff looked at each man before standing. “If I lose any manpower behind this, especially if it could be avoided, I'm going to be real pissed. I've told you how I feel about strangers in my neighborhood.” He stopped short of threatening them. He nodded at the women and glared at the men before walking out.

Chapter 14

Thank goodness, it was Friday, tomorrow he'd sleep in. Winston moped around the office, half-doing the few chores assigned to him. More than once his eyes drifted toward the conference room where his brother and partners were in a meeting. Smoke had been back a day and a half, and the meager conversation the two of them had ended badly. They'd argued. His guilt grew. It seemed everything he did lately created problems. Smoke had asked him not to come, but he thought his brother was being selfish and just didn't want him around. He was well acquainted with that feeling.

Shame washed over him. His brother had been kidnapped, and from the bruises on his body, beaten. He couldn't believe it. Smoke had always been so strong, larger than life to him. Kind of an iconic Superhero. As a kid, Winston wished he could be like his older brother. Unfortunately, Smoke rarely came home. Even though he knew the reason for his brother's absence lay at his mama's feet, he'd felt abandoned when Smoke hadn't put more effort in staying in contact with him. They emailed each other occasionally, and Smoke always made sure he had his most current contact information.

Ironically, he despised
and
admired his brother. God, he was such a loser. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he moved toward the exit instead of the storage area where he was supposed to be working.

Checking the hallway and then the loading area, he moved quickly outside and around the corner from the office building. He was tired of thinking, tired of asking for handouts, tired of being in the shadow of his brother. As soon as things calmed down back home, he’d be out of here. At college, he'd had his pick of pretty girls. School had been an orgasmic feast. He'd gotten caught up with partying and flunked out. At the time, the exchange–women on tap instead of class–didn't seem like a big deal. At least until his mama called.

“Winston, I just got a letter from the school,” she said with a hint of irritation. “They expelled you from school.” She paused. It was eight in the morning and he was still half asleep. If he hadn't recognized her ring-tone, he wouldn't have answered.

“Did you hear me?” She snapped into the silence.

He swallowed a smart reply and wondered what answer and tone would placate her this time. It was a game they played. She knew he was partying, but as long as it didn't affect her directly, she didn't give a damn.

“Yes, Mama, I heard you.” His tone slightly mocking. She must've taken offense since she hung up on him. Never in a million years would he have expected such a strong reaction from her. She'd basically left him alone since his dad's disappearance ten years ago. If it weren't for his Nana, he would've been in foster care.

The following month, she didn't send his monthly allotment and he lost his apartment. A week later he drifted back home to Mississippi and discovered his house key no longer worked. When he tracked her down at her new boyfriend's place, she went ballistic.

“You're a grown ass man,” she yelled pushing him from the doorway. “I'm done taking care of your sorry ass. Just like your daddy, always making a mess and expecting me to take care of it.” The neighbors listened as she put his business in the street. “You get a grant, scholarship and still they put you out of college. You better join the military like your damned brother, cuz I don't know what you expect me to do. Let you stay with me? Sheeeit, I ain’t no fool like my mama.” She yelled the last sentence to his back. Angry he'd stalked away, fists balled with profane words on his lips. He'd never felt so alone and ashamed.