Bitter Black Kiss (8 page)

“Aaron?”

She made a disgusted face. “Yes.”

Nicole went over a plan of action in her head. First she’d have to get another number. Of course, Aaron would find her new number in record time. He always did.

“Anyway, I don’t trust him.” Molly picked up where she left off.

Nicole gripped the wheel. “ I have no intention of trusting that asshole.”

Molly groaned and rolled her eyes. “Duh, Nicky! I’m talking about Sean. The police asked the staff about him. They made some serious accusations.”

“I know. It’s all a bunch of nonsense. She was more interested in nailing me for something than finding Amy’s killer.”

“He’s a workaholic. He’d never have time for you,” Molly added with a lame shrug. “He’s in town for a week every month or so.”

“It’s just a business dinner, not a date.”

“Just be careful.” She looked out the window again, her eyes downcast. “Men like Sean Stone get what they want. If he crooks his finger, women come running, and it doesn’t matter if he treats them like trash, they just eat it up. Women are objects to cast aside once he’s done.”

“Where is this coming from?” A gnat of worry buzzed at the back of Nicole’s brain. “Did something happen? You know you can tell me anything.”

“He said I should lose some weight—that I’d get more tips. The customers don’t want a gross, fat slob behind the bar.” Her voice sounded watery, and she ducked her head. “I bet he’s trying to get me to quit so he won’t have to fire me. He’ll save on unemployment that way.”

“Oh Molly, you are beautiful.” She meant every word.

Molly sniffled and clutched her purse. “It doesn't matter."

Nicole eased the compact car into their reserved parking slot. “Come on, what happened? Talk to me.”

“Well, Sean didn’t say it himself. He sent his stupid guard dog to do it for him.” Molly stopped Nicole from speaking. “I just get a bad vibe off Sean. I can’t explain it. He’s bad news, okay?”

The breath Nicole held leaked out of her lungs in a slow, steady stream. “I doubt he even knows about it, Molly. I’ll bet Tony came up with that bullshit all by himself. I’ll talk to Sean about it.”

“What does he need a bodyguard for anyway?” Molly continued. “It’s not like he’s royalty or anyone famous. He’s just some guy who has extra money lying around for god’s sake.”

“So what if he has a bodyguard?”

“Hmm.” Molly slid out of the car and shut the door. She took a few steps then reconsidered. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you should break the wolfsbane habit. They’re cracking down on street users.”

“God, you make it sound like I’m addicted to cocaine or something.” There was a tone in Molly’s voice that Nicole didn’t care for. “Besides, it isn’t as easy as you think.”

“At least go to a doctor and get a legit prescription. I know you think it’ll ruin your reputation, but you could go to an out of town doctor. What if you get busted for buying off the street? Think about what 
that
 would do to your career, Nicky. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. I don’t want to see you throw everything away.”

Chapter Six

The pawn shop owner examined the keys dangling from his meaty fingers as he approached the metal, roll down door in front of the shop’s entrance. A bag of food speckled with grease spots almost met the sidewalk before he slid the key into the lock. The rattling of the door as he slid it open echoed against the surrounding shop fronts.

It appeared that the short, portly man wanted to get inside fast. Brody didn’t blame him. This was a cruddy part of town, and the pawn shop had already been robbed twice this year. Three other businesses here on Monroe Street, a liquor store, adult movies and a sandwich shop had been jacked a few weeks ago.

Brody pushed away from the cool brick wall and sauntered across the street. Recognition clouded the shopkeeper’s puffy features, and he doubled his effort to get inside. Brody shouldered it open. The shop owner dropped his meal.

“Why aren’t you happy to see me, Jimbo?”

The man gave the door another push. When that didn’t work, he sprinted for the back room. Brody was on him in a matter of seconds. He grabbed Jim Evans by the back of the shirt. “Where are you going?”

Brody shoved him against the counter and forced his arm behind his back. He didn’t care that the glass case bit into the idiot’s cheek. Jimbo was as crooked as they came and didn’t trust cops. That included Brody, especially since he had busted Jimbo a few times for fencing stolen goods.

Brody wasn’t brimming with trust for the little weasel either. A few years back, he told police that Brody had provided him with items that had come up missing in the evidence room. It had been complete bullshit, of course. Still, no one knew how Jimbo had gotten the items, and he had refused to provide them with details.

“I haven’t done anything wrong, I swear! I’ve kept my nose clean, just like you told me.”

“Don’t give me the runaround, Jimbo.” After Nicole’s brush off, he was cranky, and he didn’t have time for games. The fear dancing behind Jimbo’s pig-like eyes fueled his fervor. He cocked his head and examined the guns in the case against the wall. “I need information. You help me out, and I’ll overlook the fact that half the stuff in the place is stolen goods.”

Pinned to the counter face down, Jimbo had nowhere to go. He squirmed against Brody’s hold, his breaths labored. “Okay, okay. What 'd ya want?”

“I want to see that gun.” Brody indicated a weapon beneath the counter. Its rubber grip was scuffed and scratched. Not something anyone would give a significant amount of money for.

“You’re hurting me.” Jimbo’s eyes rolled, and he tried to get a better view of Brody. A puddle of drool formed beneath his cheek and ran across the smooth surface.

“Where’d you get it?”

“I don’t remember.”

Brody jerked Jimbo’s arm up at a severe angle. It popped in the socket and forced a moan from its owner. Brody leaned closer so Jimbo could see the promise in his eyes. “You ever had a broken bone?”

“Oh man, okay. Okay!” The struggle went out of the fat man. His body continued to tremble, but he stopped fighting. “Some guy brought it in last night. I didn’t get his name.”

Now that he’d felt the pain behind Brody’s threat, Jimbo was more than eager to talk. Brody released him and stepped back, allowing the man to raise himself. His cheek was red and moist like his eyes.

“A guy with buzzed hair and a gold front tooth?”

Jimbo shuffled around the counter. “No. Some bum.”

“Where’d a bum get a gun?”

 “Said he found it in a dumpster. I didn’t ask questions.”

Brody didn’t let his disappointment show. He would have put money down that the late night visitor had been Tony.

He used a pencil from the cup on the counter to lift the gun. He wasn’t surprised to find the serial numbers had been scratched off. The scent of gun cleaner wafted off the metal. Someone had taken their time cleaning it. The Smith and Wesson wouldn’t have any fingerprints whatsoever.

“Did you wipe it down?”

Jimbo drummed his fingers on the counter and cast a hopeful glance out the window. “No. I told you already. It came in last night before I closed.”

Brody ignored Jimbo’s suspicious gaze. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and dialed Vasquez. He turned his attention back to Jimbo after he finished. “I want a description of this guy.”

“First time I’ve ever laid eyes on him.” Jimbo rubbed at his shoulder. “He was just some skinny white dude.”

“You got video in here?”

Jimbo's face scrunched. “C’mon, man. You know what kind of business this is.”

“Seeing how your shop’s been hit twice, I’d think you’d take notice of someone coming in right as you’re closing. You must have noticed more than that.”

Jimbo swallowed hard. “He had a baseball cap pulled down low so I couldn’t see his eyes. He had dark hair and a scar on the side of his neck. He wore leather or vinyl pants, and I don’t remember anything else.”

“You sure?” His smile was menacing. “Think carefully.”

“I just wanted him to leave so I could go home.” Jimbo wrung his hands with frustration. “Plus, he kinda gave me the creeps.”

“But you bought the gun anyway. What do you mean, he gave you the creeps?”

“He was different.”

Brody leaned closer and grinned. Jimbo gasped and shrank back. He was certain the shop owner had viewed his pointed canines. “You’d better not be lying to me.”

Jimbo backed away. A dark spot spread across the front of his pants and the shop filled with the smell of urine. “I’m not, I swear.”

Brody skirted the counter. Jimbo stumbled backward and pressed his back against the farthest wall. He didn’t complain about the DVD players and camcorders that bit into his back.

He avoided the puddle Jimbo had made and rummaged beneath the counter for a clean bag. Once he found a suitable one, he dropped the gun inside and said, “If the guy comes back, I want to know the moment he steps through the door—no, onto the curb. You understand?”

Jimbo nodded with enthusiasm. Brody was confident the spineless crook would agree to most anything at this point.

“Don’t screw me over, Jimbo. You don’t want to make me angry.”

“But you can’t do that. You’re a cop.”

“Not anymore."

Behind them, the door jingled and made a whooshing sound. Eva Vasquez walked toward them. Jimbo looked disappointed.

Brody sighed. “I said I’d bring it to you.”

“I was in the neighborhood. What’s going on?” She pulled a pair of latex gloves from her pocket. Her attention fell upon the bag in his right hand. “Is that the weapon?”

He handed it over. “I don’t think it’ll be much help. It’s been scratched and wiped.”

Vasquez plucked the weapon out and examined the barrel and cylinder. She rubbed her finger over the area where the serial number should be. She finished her inspection and dropped it back inside. After Jimbo had given her a description of the guy who sold it to him, she moved toward the door. “Don’t leave town, Jim. I’m sure we’ll want to visit with you again.”

Moments later, Brody stepped out of the shop and followed her across the street. Jimbo locked the door behind them. Brody felt a devious grin spread across his face. Just knowing he’d put the fear of god in the lowlife made his day.

“I wish he’d given us more to go on. What’d you do to him?” Vasquez didn’t slow her stride.

“Nothing.”

“He pissed his pants, Brody.”

He kicked a pebble across the street. If she hadn’t shown up, he might have gotten more out of Jimbo. “Maybe he has a bladder problem.”

Brody shoved his key into the car’s lock. Vasquez’s grabbed his upper arm.

He scowled at her hand, and she released him. “Are you moonlighting at Bitter Black?”

He managed to keep his face from showing annoyance. “Not exactly.”

“You’re spending a lot of time there. What are you up to?”

“I like to dance?”

A slight grin lifted the corner of her mouth. “One of the uniforms said you were a DJ. You forgot to mention that.”

Brody rolled his shoulders. “It pays the bills.”

“You shouldn't be anywhere near Sean Stone.”

He checked his watch. “He’s not the only one I’m watching.”

Vasquez offered a perceptive look. “I suppose she’s about five-six, blonde, and blue-eyed?”

Brody laughed and scratched at his chin. “That’s about the size of it.”

She rolled her dark eyes heavenward. “She’s all wrong for you.”

“Yeah well, Stone’s not my type either.” Without further explanation, he opened the car door.

“We need help in special crimes. You should give up the DJ gig and come back.” Vasquez crossed her arms over her chest. “You looked good in uniform.”

He swung the car door shut, but leaned out the open window. “Who said I wanted to come back?”

She went on like she didn’t even hear him. “You’d have to start at the bottom, but I know you’d make detective again in no time. We need you, Brody. If we had someone like you, someone who understands what special crimes is dealing with…” Vasquez’s voice rose, and each word was spoken in such a rush that her accent broke through. “The Lycanthropic population has increased. You could help us understand the thinking behind the local pack and the rest of your kind.”

“I’m not interested.” The car roared to life.

“Think about it?”

“They fucked me once. I won’t let them do it again.”