Where There's Smoke (8 page)

“Well damn, trouble-maker one is headed for headquarters,” Ross said, laughing.

“Yeah, I’m wondering who’s really running the company these days. First the guys won’t let us have any fun, and now my woman has taken over managing the office.” Red shook his head.

Ross wondered what Cherise would say when she found out Denise was at the office.

“You can bet your ass your woman is calling the daycare to enroll Lenore and she’ll be working the office right alongside trouble-maker one.”

Ross nodded, surprised his phone hadn’t rung yet. The next second it did. He glanced at a laughing Red. Certain he knew who was on the other end of the line, he answered without looking. “Yessss?” he drew out the “s” sound.

“Boss?” It was Tank, Ross sobered immediately.

“Yeah?” His face tightened as his body braced for bad news. Red stared at him, his face changed to a look of concern.

“I sent Carlos back to the office to get a large truck. We found some things here with scratched off labels, and packing slips with portions of our company name still attached.” Tank’s normally placid voice pulsed with excitement.

“Our company?”

“Yep.”

Ross closed his eyes for a moment, his stomach in knots. Coughing back his anger, he filled Red in. The low growl emanating from his partner's throat mimicked his own feelings. It’d only been a hunch before, but knowing those suckers actually stole from under his nose made his fingers itch to do damage.

“We’ll be there in a few.” His voice determined.

“Not a good idea, Boss.” Ross was beginning to hate when Tank called him that. Grinding his molars, he prayed for patience.

“Why not?” he snapped, impatient at the delays and feeling useless.

“There’s some unsavory characters hangin 'round the area. As soon as we take what’s ours, we’ll be heading back to the office. No need for them to see your face.” Ross thought the man sounded gleeful. Asshole.

His forehead rested against the steering wheel while he battled his instincts. A part of him demanded he deal with this violation personally. Another realized he’d be more effective at the office dealing with other things, like his upcoming visit to prison to talk with Top. Although talking was not what he really planned to do. Mop the floor with his rank ass was more in line with his thoughts.

“Don’t kill anybody.” Ross said instead of arguing.

“Aw, you never let us have any fun.” Tank clicked off laughing. Ross turned the truck around and headed to the office explaining to Red their upcoming visit and promising to let him work off a little energy later.

Denise greeted them at the receptionist desk. He watched as she answered phones, took information and prepared sales materials to send to potential clients. Ross admitted she handled things like a professional. When Red told her some inventory would be arriving soon, she corralled him to the back to prepare.

On Ross's desk sat a list of things that needed ordering for next week’s jobs as well as many details that needed additional monitoring. Grimacing at the stacks of clutter, he got started. Later, his desk cleared, he looked at his cell and wondered what was taking his friend in the prison so long to call him back. He wanted a face to face with Geary in the worse way. Even if he didn’t have anything to do with Smoke’s disappearance, he'd sent his slaves to steal from the company, and the recompense for that was at least an ass whupping. Fortunately, Red's twin brothers had been able to break down one of Geary's minions; and he gave them enough information to discover the Master behind the plot.

Cherise sailed through his office door, dressed in snug jeans and a vee cut sleeveless tank. Hungry for more than food, he licked his lips. She looked delicious. She kept her smile firmly in place with a bag that smelled suspiciously like burgers from his favorite eating joint outside of town. This woman owned him.

“Here.” She handed him the bag and a large drink after placing a kiss on his lips. “Eat and then get back to plotting and planning.” She smiled and sat on the corner of his desk. Her jeans tightened around her thighs. Right now the only thing he wanted to eat was her. His hand rubbed her leg before peeking around the corner at the closed door.

She pushed his hand off laughing. “Don’t even think about it. I’m here to help Denise run the office until things clear up and we’re satisfied you big strong men can handle things on your own.”

He sat back in his chair watching her. “There’ll never come a day when I don’t need you to help keep my life straight.” His voice deepened with more than need. She swung around and stared.

“Oh, baby,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “You always know what to say to make me wet.” He smiled and waggled his brows. “But the panties stay on. I’m here to help.” She pinched his face and backed away.

“It would be a big help if you sat right here.” He pointed to his lap. “Or here.” He pointed to his face.

She laughed. “Or on my knees, taking that fat juicy cock into my mouth,” she said huskily. Blood rushed to his groin. He groaned.

“Is that what you need? You want me to place my face in your lap and lick you up real good, before I suck that fat head between my lips? Hmmm? Will that help you, Baby?” She braced her hands on his desk and bent forward, giving him a perfect view of his twin girls. Hungry for her, he licked his lips. “Yeah, that'd help me a lot. Lock the door baby.” He pointed in the general direction and unbuckled his belt.

Mouth watering, he licked his lips again, hungry for her. Slowly, she straightened and moved in measured paces to the door.

“I’mma give you a rain check babe. Got a lot on my mind.” As the fog of lust evaporated, he heard the door unlock, before closing. Open mouthed he sat with a painful hard-on. No, she didn't leave him like this. He stood, realized his condition and dropped into the seat as the words he’d spoken to her earlier that morning penetrated. A knock at the door arrested his attention as he tried to straighten his pants for relief.

“Yeah,” he barked.

Tank walked in with Carlos and Jamie close behind. “We found marble, granite slabs, some doors, nails and all kinds of shit,” Carlos said, stopping in front of his desk. “What did you see on the cameras?”

“Smoke walked off with some guy. The cameras didn’t give clear views, but the swagger was all Smoke. The dude had on a baseball cap and was too close.”

“Damn,” Jamie said, scowling.

“How tall?” Tank asked.

“It looked like he and Smoke were the same height, around six one, six two.” Ross zeroed in on Tank.

“Weight, complexion, coat or tee shirt?”

“Black tee shirt, dusky-colored arms, white or light-skinned black. I couldn’t tell. Weight, hmm, maybe the same as Smoke. Damn, now you got me wondering. I need to go look at the tape again.”

“Probably not,” Tank said. His eyes squinted in consideration. “It sounds like one of the men who used to lurk around here.”

Ross nodded slowly, watching Tank, and taking in the past tense of his statement. “I’d like to get some answers from these guys whenever they resurface.”

“Sure thing.” Tank glanced at his cell, reading the text before looking at Ross. The tightening of his jaw was the only outward indication of his displeasure. “Ross, I’ve gotta check something out, I’ll be in touch.” The desk phone beeped.

“Hold on a minute—” Ross picked up the beeping office line, while holding onto Tank with his eyes. “Yeah?” He paused, eyes widened before shutting. “You’re kidding me right?”

All three men moved closer to his desk. “Where is he?” Ross wrote some information down. “No, no, I’ll take care of it.” He disconnected. Damn, today was Monday and weird bullshit kept falling in spades.

“What’s up, Boss?” Jamie asked while he sat looking at the paper.

“Hmm, oh.” He threw the pencil on the desk and leaned back. “Winston, Smoke's younger brother, is at the bus terminal in Flint. Claims Smoke told him it was cool to head out this way and now he’s stranded at the station. He said Smoke didn’t answer or return his calls.” The men released pent up breaths.

“You need us to go pick him up?” Carlos asked. Ross glanced at the men; he needed to talk with Tank alone.

“Yeah, take one of the company trucks, Denise has his cell number. Call him when you’re close so he can be ready. He doesn’t know anything; keep it close. And one thing for damn sure, Smoke didn’t tell him to come here so he’s not going to his place. He’ll have to stay with me or Red until we know what’s going down.”

Carlos nodded and headed for the door. “I’ll bring him back here after I feed him. That’ll give you a little more time.” Jamie stood and followed Carlos out the door, leaving Tank. The two men eyed each other.

“What’s up, Tank?” Ross leaned back in his chair so he could check out the other man’s body language.

“Nothing much, I gotta check out something, that’s all.” He stared as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

“I don’t wanna lose anybody, Tank. Let me qualify that. I don’t wanna lose any of my team. I need everybody, you included. We all enjoy the benefits of working hard. You called Red and me out for the Lone Ranger BS. We’re not looking for a sacrifice around here.”

“Got it. No sacrifice, no Lone Ranger, no team loss.” He backed toward the door, reached out and turned the knob. “Really, I got this.” With a quick smirk, he backed out the door and hustled down the hall.

“Smartass,” Ross murmured, instinctively knowing the body count just went up. Stymied, he didn’t know how to stop it. Grabbing the paperwork for Denise, he walked out front and stopped. The two women were delegating jobs for the complete restructuring of the front office. From what he heard, it sounded as if they had it under control.

“Excuse me.” Moving forward, he handed Denise the stack of papers. “These are the supplies we need ordered for the jobs next week. The latest dates they can arrive on the sites are circled next to the job location. We pay a penalty whenever we finish a job late, so please make sure we don’t need to stop for these materials.”

“Got it, do you have a preference for time of deliveries?” Denise asked writing notes on the papers and highlighting the job sites.

“Mornings are always best. The men are fresher and it’s easier to load in the trailers if necessary.” He nodded at a silent Cherise and returned to his office.

“Excuse me,” Cherise called out.

He stopped but didn’t turn. Something pointed tapped his arm. Looking down, he saw a FedEx envelope. Taking it, he kept walking to his office. “Thanks,” he called out.

“Welcome.”

###

Neither Tuesday nor Wednesday was much better. Still no sign of Smoke and the men were getting restless. Ross had to curtail some of the ideas the men had to search and seize suspects they
thought
might have information. He didn’t want any more bloodshed unless they had proof the person was involved. At that point, he reserved the right to put the asshole out of his misery personally.

Head propped in his hand, Ross sat next to Red at the conference table. Copies of two pending lawsuits lay on the table in front of them. The situation had deteriorated so fast they couldn’t get a handle on things.

“Shoddy work, inappropriate conduct and language on the site, code violations, property uninhabitable.”

“This is not good,” Red mumbled. The bottle of pain pills and cup of water sat next to his hand. He’d taken four already. “A fucking lawsuit? For jobs we never contracted or worked on? Sheeit.” His steely eyed glare should have set the papers on fire. They desperately needed Smoke's calm sense of reason right about now. Even Rubie’s reassuring voice would be welcomed right now, but he was on a cruise and had been in Miami visiting relatives the week prior.

“Where’s Winston?” Smoke’s younger brother had arrived and after intense questioning, admitted he’d come on his own without an invitation or his brother’s permission.

“I think he left with Cherise. She said he needed to shower and get some rest.” Ross remembered how the women surrounded the twenty-three-year-old when he ambled into the office with Carlos. They sat him down and within the hour had the whole story about his expulsion, his mom kicking him out, the call to Smoke, his subsequent no and his decision to come anyway.

“Good. I made sure he knew an ass-whupping would be the least of his fears if he fucked up at my house.” Ross sighed looking at the papers, not wanting to deal with another mess. “Even though the attorney has filed rebuttal and counter-suits, just seeing this pisses me off. How the fuck does somebody do this shit?”

The front bell of the outer office rang. Red left to check it out and returned with Tank. Ross sat up when they walked in. “Please tell me you have some good news. My bad news card is filled through Friday.”

Tank shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it.”

“Talk to us.” Red returned to his seat and waved at Tank.

Chapter 9

Vianca stared at the two-lane highway, struggling to remain alert throughout the monotony of the drive. Nando’s SUV provided a smooth ride but was hell on their gas budget. The mellow music playing in the background didn’t help either. It lulled and tempted her to pull over until the sun rose in a few hours. Stiffening her spine, she forcibly sat straighter and changed the music to something more upbeat.

A soft snore echoed in car. She smiled. What kind of name was Smoke? Sure, his dark chocolate complexion and serious expression teased her imagination, but his name had surprised her. Butch, King, or some extreme alpha name would rest perfectly on his broad shoulders.

She’d never expected him to cooperate enough for escape and had been prepared to leave him to his fate in the room with the corpses. But the tall, muscular man had surprised her as he fought against the drugs in his system and the physical punishment he’d endured. Each step he’d taken marked his determination to survive. Compelled by his drive, she’d worked harder to help him get away.

In hindsight, maybe he was more a part of his name than she gave him credit. After all, Smoke was a combination of solids and liquids released into the air. The solidness of his strength had been tested and he'd bounced back. It was obvious he was in pain, but he never showed it, never complained, never allowed it to stop his progress. Like smoke, he bent to the circumstances and came out on top. His captors never meant for him to slip away like the morning mist. Snorting at the prose, she reminded herself that too much smoke was the leading cause of death from indoor fires. No question he was hot, possibly like fire. She'd need to stay on guard, make sure she didn't get burned.