Wayward Dreams (30 page)

“Hey,” he'd bragged, “they're gonna talk about this party forever. Straight comin' through the door, you know, we'll give all the shorties a drank, and a blunt for all the…”

Payne's eyes had locked on Buoy Mann's. Feeling immediate disapproval and censure, he couldn't hold the stare and his eyes fell to the floor. The look his loud phone conversation garnered stopped him in midsentence. The loud talk was just a front; kind of like whistling when you walked through a graveyard, and he knew Mann knew it for what it was.

“I'm gonna catch you later,” he muttered. His feet carried him toward Mann.

Comfortably installed in a corner banquette, his shirt loose around his body, Mann had not embarked on any new fitness regimens. Seated behind a table spread with gourmet burgers, apple cole slaw, garlic fries, imported beer, and an array of desserts, he seemed intent on adding to his bulk. Mann glanced at his watch and waited for Payne to sit, then leaned forward with a question: “Why do you try so hard?”

Payne flipped his phone from hand to hand. “I don't know what you mean.”

The rich boy's face was so completely guileless that Mann knew he spoke the truth. He picked up his knife and stabbed the burger in front of him, creating halves from the whole. Using both hands, he took a big bite and chewed deliberately before he finally spoke. “Do you know why we're meeting today?”

“Uh, you wanted company for lunch?”

Mann shook his head and took another bite. Taking his time, he looked at the two men seated across from them patiently sipping ice water. Putting the burger aside, Mann took the napkin from his lap and daintily wiped his fingers. “We're here because I'm running out of patience. I'm reexamining your options.”

I should've gotten up right then…walked away.

But he hadn't. He'd sat there watching Mann pick at his garlic fries and listening to him explain the flaws in their original plan and the money he expected.

And it was a mad, stupid amount.

“But that's extortion,” Payne had exploded. Then he cooled when one of the omnipresent bodyguards stood. Payne saw the bulge of the gun beneath the man's jacket and lost his gangster ambitions.

“Don't get so excited,” Mann had said patiently. “We started this little venture your way, and we're going to end it my way.”

Sucking air, Payne had dropped back into his chair.

Hands folded across his belly, Mann looked thoughtful. And menacing. “You've pretty much exhausted your trust, haven't you?” His lips curled when KPayne nodded. “But you still have something that interests me, and I'll be…assuming that asset to pay your debt.”

Kelvin's brow furrowed. For all of twenty seconds he had absolutely no idea of what Buoy Mann was talking about. When it dawned on him, his brain cramped. “No.”

“Don't. Tell. Me. No.” Mann's smile was nearly cherubic.

“You want my shares in my father's bank.” Kelvin's handsome face went from healthy brown to sickly ash and he had to swallow fast to keep from gagging. “You want to move more money than one little shop can cover; that was the purpose of all those contracts Mitchell Black had me sign. You want real access to the international money system, and a bank can give it to you. You never intended for this to work.”

“Tell me you really didn't see this coming.”

Regret sliced KPayne's voice, rendering it whiny. “You were behind the robbery—trying to get her to quit so you could take the store's name. I sign over my shares and you use the little store to open a major account with my father's bank. Backed by my shares there are no questions of legitimacy.” He blinked at the tabletop. “Why didn't you just take DaggerIn?”

“You ever look at your books? You made about thirty-seven cents last year.”

“And there's no way you could move that much money through it.”

Mann dropped a rakish wink. “I always knew you weren't totally stupid.”

Looking out of the car window, KPayne felt like the CEO of Stupid. Mann wouldn't need him anymore and everything would be gone—leaving him in his family's debt. But there was still a chance to come out of this with a small part of his life intact. If Vive la Reine was gone, everything would go back to square one—and who could Mann tell? There would be no need to sacrifice the bank shares, no matter how much Mann wanted them. He could deal with his family and the trust money later. “Got to find a way to stop her,” he muttered.

“Still mad at her? Just want to fix her, huh?”

Damn it, Alin just has to ask questions.
KPayne wished he hadn't bothered to pick him up. He sucked his cheeks in and nodded.

“It's cloth. We could burn her out.”

Payne turned his head, considering. “Police are still watching the store.”

“How about we just disappear it from here?”

“What?”

“Isn't this where her stuff is made? If she's got special stock, isn't this where it would be?” Alin spread his hands. “Once it's in her store, the best we could do is grab it and sell it hot. We stop it from here, we can make it go away, like it never was.”

Payne sat higher in his seat and looked at Alin with new respect. “That could work, but we need some help.”

Alin pulled out his phone and grinned. “I'm on it.”

CHAPTER 19

Now it all makes sense. Payne has to pay back the money that was supposed to be laundered through Bianca's shop. He's on the hook because of the deal he made with Mann. I guess neither of them thought real thieves would intervene and steal what they wanted before the money could be transferred and cleaned through the shop.

It wasn't hard to see the big picture once he'd laid the pieces end to end. Yes, the dead roses were a threat. Yes, KPayne needed money. Yes, he'd gotten tangled up with a very bad man in his effort to get it. And yes, the very bad Mann had been one step ahead of him every step of the way.

Harry wondered if Payne knew about the airline tickets Mann purchased, or the property he'd just bought in Namibia? Made sense: commit a major crime and then go somewhere where you could live like a king and not have to worry about extradition.

Dropping his chin into his palm, Harry stared at the computer screen. How had Payne missed even the first clue? Why didn't he notice the last name of his right-hand man was the same as that of the man who was leading him by the nose? Based on the files he'd seen, Harry had a good idea of the money Payne now owed Buoy Mann: in the millions by now. How did he think he was going to get that out of Bianca? Even if he destroyed Vive la Reine, the insurance wouldn't cover his debt. He'd pretty much have to…

Harry jumped to his feet, remembering that Bianca was going to see the Winston sisters today.
Maybe she hasn't left yet…
He punched Kin Kura's number into the phone. A full thirty seconds later, he hung up on his brother. She'd already left.

He tried Vive la Reine, got voicemail. Disconnecting, he entered his NeoTech code.

“Gabe Ingalls.”

The voice was soft, but Harry knew the man behind it was hard—and loyal. “This is Harry. I need you to do something for me. Take whoever you need, but this is priority.”

His instructions clear, Gabe took the addresses for Vive la Reine and Museum Tower. “I'm moving now,” he said, hanging up.

Knowing that one of his best men was on the job did little to quiet Harry's concerns. Mostly, it left him wanting to hear Bianca's voice. If she had gone home or to Vive la Reine, Gabe would find her, she would call and he would apologize, but in the meantime…
Julia. Maybe she's with Julia.

Julia answered her phone with typical curiosity. “Why are you calling me? Where is Bianca? Is she all right?”

“I don't know where she is,” Harry said, struggling to keep his voice even.

“Where are you? Why isn't she with you?”

Knowing that Julia was remembering withered roses and a nasty card, Harry tried to keep his tone calm and unhurried. “Let me do some checking and I'll call you back.”

“Harry…” Her voice trembled.

“Don't worry, Julia. I'm going to find her.” Harry's heart was in his throat, when he punched Bianca's number into his phone again. Voicemail.
Damn it.

Not willing to give up, he punched in his NeoTech code again. “Gabe, this is Harry…”

“Nothing, Harry,” the man said. “We used the key to get in. She's not here, and there's no sign she's been here today. We're coming out of the shop now. Marks checked the condo, and she's not there, either.”

Harry was already moving through the door when he got her voicemail again.

Anata-nashi-ja ikirare-nai.
Bianca was still repeating the phrase when she pulled into the Winston sisters' parking lot. By the time her feet hit the asphalt, the words had picked up a catchy little rhythm and she set her steps to it as she approached the warehouse.

Tucking her purse under her arm, she pressed the intercom button set into the low wall surrounding the building and considered the prickly feeling creeping along the back of her neck.
Like I'm being watched…
Her hand brushed at the hair trailing her collar. She looked over her shoulder and saw nothing in the empty lot, other than one of the sister's cars. A few people milled around the tire shop across the street, but no one paid her any attention.

Turning back to the door, she pressed the button again.

“Yes? Who is it?”

“It's me, Gaia.” She looked around again, unable to shake the feeling of being watched.

Seconds later Gaia swung the wrought-iron gate open and ushered Bianca into the building. “We decided to do this after someone tried to pull our back door off a few weeks ago.”

“Sounds like what happened at Vive la Reine.”

“That's exactly what we thought,” Gaia said, frowning. “Amaya said that when people do the kind of damage they did at your place, they've already decided what they will do to anybody who gets in their way.”

Both women shivered as she closed the door. “Anyway, here's the panic button; hit this and get cops aplenty—my sister's idea. We work late a lot, and she figured having the buttons nearby would at least give us half a chance to get out.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. You have to think ahead—like I wish we'd done with that shipment for Neiman's. You know I'm still a bit perturbed about having to eat the cost of expedited shipping, right?”

“Yes, but at least it's gone, and that's one more thing you don't have to worry about. Besides, you're going to make it back.”

“Maybe…” Bianca backed away from the button, trying not to remember that it was exactly the kind of thing she'd refused to let Harry put in at Vive la Reine.

Gaia looped an arm through Bianca's. “You know what I want to know?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “How's Harry? Where is Harry?”

“Harry is at work, doing what Harry does. Do you think we could get to work on what we're supposed to be doing?”

“Spoilsport.” Gaia unhooked her arm and led the way into the workroom. She hit the wall switch and bathed the room in light. “Considering that you get him on the real, you could spare a sister a little vicarious entertainment.”

“I'm not sharing my sex life with you.”

Gaia rolled her eyes. “Just plain old mean, that's what you are. What about his brother?”

“You would probably damage him.”

A phone sounded and both women patted their pockets. Bianca found hers first and flipped it open. “Crap. No signal. It's not mine.”

Gaia located her phone on the edge of a cutting table and caught it in time to answer. “Hello…uh-huh…Let me ask,” she muttered, looking at Bianca.

“This is Amaya. Something is wrong with her car. She's stuck on Fulton Industrial, and needs a ride. Will you be okay if I go get her? I'll only be gone about thirty minutes.” Gaia's smile went wildly wicked. “You can dream about Harry until I get back.”

“You're crazy. Just go.” Bianca fanned a hand.

“Okay. Amaya? I'm on the way.” Turning back to Bianca, Gaia said, “Come, let me show you the alarms.”

“I've already seen the panic button.”

“But now I'm going to arm the system, and I want you to see how safe you are.”

“Okay, fine, show me how safe I am.” Bianca threw up her hands and followed.

* * *

Bolting through his office, Harry barely noticed Deb. Her face registered interest, but he didn't see that, either. Bianca was in trouble, and he felt it in his gut. Still in his shirtsleeves, he found himself running down the hall and only stopped to slam his hand against the elevator call button. Pacing, he forced himself to wait, not to run down the stairs from his twenty-first-floor offices to the main floor. When the elevator arrived, he was on and willing the elevator to descend before the doors were fully opened.

Too slow for his taste, the elevator made several stops and Harry stood at the back of the car, hands on hips.
She left Kin Kura about twenty minutes before I called.
He looked at his watch and calculated.
From here, it'll take about fifteen minutes to get to the warehouse…
He pulled out his phone and dialed her number again, and again, the call went to voicemail.

Where the hell are you, Bianca?

A lot of things could happen to a woman in thirty-five minutes, and he tried not to think about any of them. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and clamped his lips together to keep from yelling at the pair of women who took their time boarding the elevator and then rode down two floors. The man who got on when they got off couldn't remember which floor he was going to and pressed three different buttons, then smiled an apology.

Harry pulled air into his constricted lungs and raised a hand to the man.
Just please don't talk to me.
And get off this damned elevator!

When the elevator finally reached the main floor, Harry was the only remaining passenger, and he came out of the car and headed for his Audi at a dead run.

* * *

Two of the kind of men Kelvin knew he never wanted to meet in a dark alley climbed into the back of the Expedition. Alin said their names were Gene and Dancer. Probably not their real names, but that was okay; Payne didn't expect to know them long enough to care. The hunger and anger in their ancient brown eyes gave them a weighty advantage when they looked at him and KPayne felt a need to push them back.

“What?” He made his voice hard; best to let them know up front who they were messing with. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothin',” Dancer said, laying his ashy hand, palm up, on the back of Payne's seat. “Just wonderin' if you got our money.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Payne pulled a roll of bills from his pocket. For a second, deep in the recesses of his mind, something told him this business was stupid, but he licked his thumb and peeled off the bills, counting out the money for both men. “This is half, like Alin told you when he called. You get the rest when I smell smoke and see it in my rearview mirror.”

“Right, right.” Dancer and Gene nodded. KPayne felt a little of their threat fade as they made the money disappear.

“So what you want us to do?”

Alin glanced at KPayne. Certain that he was on solid ground, he turned in his seat. “There's a woman in there. Get her out, then burn it to the ground.”

“What you want her out for?” Dancer raised a thick eyebrow. “Witnesses—not a good thing. Believe that.”

“She's not going to witness anything. We're not going to get caught.” The promise sounded empty to Kelvin's ears, and he hoped he was right.

Gene wouldn't let it go. “Why you need her, if all you want is an empty lot left behind?”

“Maybe it's about a lesson.”

KPayne cut his eyes at Alin. Deciding that no one else had heard him, Payne decided to ignore Alin's low words:
Lesson taught or learned?

Gene shook his head. “Sounds like you got control issues. I was you, I would do what had to be done and let the woman do what she could.”

“You're not me,” KPayne snapped.

“But, if I was…” Gene stopped when his partner's elbow caught him in the ribs. KPayne was paying them to do a job, not practice armchair psychiatry.

* * *

Harry steered the Audi through the kind of traffic that only existed in Atlanta. To his right a woman in a black Porsche, determined to show off its speed and performance, tried to pass him, but he didn't have time to indulge her. His foot pressed hard and the Audi growled as he passed her, and he never looked back. There was no music in the car this time and he didn't miss it; all of his thoughts were on Bianca. He struggled to keep them positive, but his mind latched onto the logical.

Payne knows her well, so he's watching that warehouse.
Harry felt his chest clutch and forced himself to breathe through it.
She might not have liked me looking into her past, but if I hadn't looked, I wouldn't have found the pattern.

He moved past a tractor-trailer rig and a fast-cruising Volkswagen filled with teenaged girls. The sound of a blaring horn drew his eyes to the rearview mirror. The girls apparently liked his lane-change maneuver and copied it, to the dismay of the drivers behind them. Resolving to be more careful, Harry dropped his speed and changed lanes again.

Seeing the signs for his turn, he slowed enough to pull off the highway. Taking the turn and a chance, he found his phone, pressed redial, and listened for her voice. The call went to voicemail and his heart ached, but his gut told him to keep going.

“Five minutes; I can be there in five minutes.”

* * *

“You sure she's alone?”

Dancer looked like he was stuck on stupid, and KPayne decided it wasn't just a look. “Yeah, we saw that other chick leave. The Jag over there, that's hers. She's alone.”

“But if she gets in the way…”

“Do what you came to do, and don't worry about it,” Alin snapped, heading for the back of the warehouse.

Alin's tone was so much like Buoy Mann's that KPayne stumbled over his own feet, his shoulder leading him into Dancer's. Trying to act hard even though he was walking like a drunk, he righted himself. Dancer looked as though he planned to keep an eye on him.

“Dude, look,” Gene snickered, “how 'bout that wall covering the front of the building ain't even finished back here.” He kicked at the overgrown grass and bricks strewn in front of them when they stepped into what would someday be a back courtyard.

“Segal,” Dancer said, pointing to the security system provider's staked sign. “I know the Segal alarms, worked for them back in the day.”

Walking single file behind Gene, they found eight windows carved into the back of the building. Dancer pushed to the front of the line. “No problem. People get a locked door between them and the world, they get forgetful. Never saw it fail.” Dancer drew a pair of work gloves from his back pocket and pulled them over his hands before he stepped through the wild grass and debris to test the windows. He had to try four before he found one unlocked. He pushed on the window and the other men all froze when it creaked under the pressure, but he grinned when it gave and he saw a tiny glass bubble set into the window frame. “I know this one. I got this.”