Sixteen
Paul Franklin came back inside the plane and pulled the steps up behind him.
Anton was waiting for him.
“When we get back to Nevada, just fly straight to the hangar. I’m taking the old truck into Vegas. I trust it still runs.”
“Yes, sir. Runs fine, just looks rough.”
“That’s what I need,” Anton said.
“Yes, sir,” Paul said. “Take a seat, sir, and buckle up for takeoff.”
Anton returned to the table, logged out of the iPad, refilled his drink and then buckled up near the window, watching as the jet began to taxi and then finally lifted off. He got one last glimpse of the estate as the jet circled the area and couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time he’d see it. There was no way to tell how this trip was going to play out, but he was a realist. If this all blew up in his face, he’d rather die on the run than in prison.
* * *
After finally getting out of bed and into their showers, Quinn and Nick began their day. They’d woken up to a text from his aunt Juana inviting them to dinner tonight, and Quinn was excited and at the same time a little nervous. Once he was dressed, Nick sent a text back saying they would be there. By the time he reached the kitchen, Quinn was already making pancakes. He gave her a thumbs-up on the invitation and then began setting the table. When he finished, he came back to the stove and put a hand at her waist as he looked over her shoulder, admiring the cakes coming off the grill.
She was too close and too sexy to ignore, and he buried his face in the curls pulled back at the nape of her neck and thought to himself that she smelled like sunshine and flowers.
“Those look amazing, honey,” Nick said.
“Thank you. I told you I could cook,” she said, managing a smile even though she was still rattled about the Peeping Tom from last night.
Nick could hear the tension in her voice and was angry that, once again, she was frightened for her life. He intended to spend the day finding Paco Cruz and learning what he had done with his information. He had no intention of letting Quinn out of his sight, so unless she was willing to stay with his aunt and uncle today, she was coming with him.
They had just sat down at the table to eat when the doorbell rang. Quinn frowned, but Nick rolled his eyes.
“How much do you want to bet it’s Santino again?”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Get all of the pancakes you want on your plate now before I go to the door, because he’ll eat what’s left on the platter.”
Quinn laughed and took one more to put on her plate while Nick took a whole stack and then left the kitchen.
Quinn heard him open the door, heard voices, and then two sets of footsteps coming back into the kitchen. Only it wasn’t Santino after all.
“Honey, this is Billy Daniels. He’s Las Vegas Homicide like me. Daniels, I know you remember Quinn.”
“Yes, ma’am, only you look a whole lot better than the first time we met.”
Quinn eyed the fortysomething man, thinking he looked like a bodybuilder squeezed into a suit one size too small, but he seemed friendly and Nick liked him.
“So you must have been present at my ever-so-graceful face-plant on the floor of Homicide,” she said.
“You didn’t face-plant. I caught you,” Nick said.
“And I caught the baby. Lord, Lord, I can’t say I’ve ever been as surprised as I was to see him beneath that jacket,” Daniels said.
Quinn saw him eyeing the pancakes.
“We have extra pancakes, if you’re hungry,” she said.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said and took off his jacket.
Quinn saw his bulging biceps and thought, Bingo. Bodybuilder for sure. She grabbed an extra plate and some utensils while Nick poured Daniels a cup of coffee.
Billy Daniels wasn’t bashful, and before long they were eating and talking as if they had been friends for years.
“These sure are good pancakes,” Daniels said.
“Quinn made them. She’s a regular Martha Stewart,” Nick said.
“But I don’t make my own wrapping paper,” she added, and then they burst into laughter, leaving Billy at a loss as to what exactly was funny.
“Sorry,” Nick said. “She was just calling me on something I said a few days ago.”
Daniels shrugged and grinned.
“At any rate, you’re a good cook, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” Quinn said.
Nick shoved his plate aside and then refilled their coffee cups.
“I know you didn’t come here for breakfast, so what’s going on?” he asked.
Daniels wiped his mouth and patted his tight belly as he leaned back in the chair.
“So, when I got to the office this morning, I heard more about Paco Cruz. Guess who got jailed on drunk and disorderly and put in Clark County Detention early this morning?”
Nick’s eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. And he’s not even scheduled for arraignment yet, so if you wanted to interview him, now’s your chance.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Nick said and then pointed at Quinn. “Honey, we’re going to pay our Peeping Tom a visit this morning. You go get ready, and I’ll stack the dirty dishes in the sink. We’ll clean up after we get back.”
Her green eyes flashed with poorly disguised anger.
“I don’t suppose we’ll be able to put our hands on the bastard?”
Nick grinned.
“No, ma’am, and you’re going to wait elsewhere while I talk to him. It’s best he isn’t distracted by your presence, okay?”
“Whatever,” she said and left to go change clothes.
Nick was stacking plates and carrying them to the sink when Daniels laughed.
“She’s a real shrinking violet, isn’t she?”
Nick thought of the life she’d had to fight through to still be here.
“She is a warrior and lucky to be here.”
Daniels’s smile disappeared.
“Hard life?”
Nick nodded, then turned off the coffeemaker and grabbed his car keys and phone as Daniels headed for the door.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Nick said.
“No problem. I was on my way to interview a possible witness anyway. We got two new homicides last night.”
“Hopefully I’ll get a release soon and can get back to work,” Nick said.
“Heal first. You were one lucky dude that was just a graze.”
“Noted and agreed,” Nick said. “Maybe I’ll see you later. Be careful.”
“I’m not going alone. I’m picking Murphy up on the way.”
“Good,” Nick said, then stood at the door until Daniels drove away before running back through the house to find Quinn.
“Need any help?” he asked, as he walked into her bedroom and saw her standing in front of a full-length mirror with a frown on her face.
“Yes. I still can’t fasten a bra.”
He kissed the crease between her eyebrows and reached behind her and hooked the bra without looking.
“The fact that you are so handy with women’s underwear should piss me off, but you’re too cute to fight with,” Quinn said.
Nick grinned.
“Which shirt?” he asked.
She pointed at a short-sleeve pullover and raised her arms.
He pulled it down over her head, then gently over her wounded shoulder.
“Need help with anything else?” he asked.
“No, I think I’ve got this,” she said, then stepped into backless sandals and slipped her cell phone in her hip pocket.
She ducked in the bathroom and swiped her lips with a pink gloss and glanced at herself in the mirror. Red curls, green eyes and the same straight nose and stubborn chin. She would do.
“You look awfully pretty for such a badass,” Nick said.
She grinned as he leaned in for a quick kiss and then headed to the garage. When they opened the door, Quinn glanced at her Harley in the corner against a wall. This had been the longest time she’d gone without riding, and it felt weird. But this whole experience was weird. She got into the car and was buckled up and wearing sunglasses by the time Nick backed out into the sunshine and drove away.
“Where is the detention center located?” Quinn asked.
“On South Casino Drive. It’s not far.”
“It feels good to be out of the house,” she said.
“I’m sorry you have to feel so cooped up right now, but I think it’s best.”
“I’m sure you’re right. It was just a selfish comment on my part. I’m used to being outdoors and on the move.”
He frowned.
“Are you saying you’re going to feel confined staying in one place?”
She immediately reached for him, making certain he understood what she meant.
“Lord, no! My dream since childhood has been to put down roots somewhere and have a home,” she said.
“Okay, then. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to kidnap you and put you in the basement to keep from losing you,” he said.
“You don’t have a basement,” she said.
He grinned.
“Well, there’s that, but you know what I meant.”
“You’re trying to make me believe you love me or something,” she said.
“Or something? You still doubt?”
She grinned.
“You have a most wicked smile,” Nick said. “Should I be worried?”
“Of course you should be worried. You’ve gone and tied yourself to a redhead. We’re notoriously dangerous, or something else equally scary. Take your pick.”
“I pick you,” Nick said and reached for her hand.
Quinn surprised him by clasping it tight.
“I am beginning to adore you to distraction,” she said.
“Adoration accepted,” Nick said.
Every day spent with her, he felt himself growing happier, more fulfilled.
How have I been living without this woman? How did I even exist?
The thought of Anton Baba wanting to harm her made him crazy. They had to find that man and get him behind bars.
Within a few minutes Nick reached the detention center. He parked and headed indoors with Quinn beside him. He signed in, requesting to speak to Paco Cruz regarding a case, and was taken back to an interrogation room. He had settled Quinn in a viewing room where she could hear and see what was said and done, and then Nick waited for Paco to be brought to the room.
A few minutes passed, and then the door opened and the man was brought in shackled and handcuffed and seated opposite Nick. A guard stood inside the room a few feet away.
Nick could tell Paco was nervous. It must have been uncomfortable to be cuffed and sitting in front of the detective you’d been spying on the night before.
“Saldano,” Paco said, feigning a brave face. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to find out why you were trespassing on my property last night. That doesn’t really sound like your usual work. But then, you aren’t quite the man you were last time we met. What knocked you off the tough-guy list and down to Peeping Tom?”
Paco was stunned. “How did you—” But the moment he said it, he groaned. He’d almost admitted to being in his backyard. The cop was right. He’d definitely lost his edge.
Nick slapped his hand on the table.
“I know shit because I’m a cop. So, Anton Baba still has you doing his dirty work, I see.”
“I don’t work for him no more,” Paco said.
“Oh, no? But you snitch for him, right? Where is he? Why did he send you to my home?”
“I said I didn’t talk to Baba,” Paco said.
“I can get a search warrant for your phone...the one we have here on site, and I can listen to messages and see the name and number of everyone you’ve called. We can do it that way, stretch it out long and slow and keep you chained up in the meantime, or you could tell me now and make it easier on yourself.”
Paco dropped his head, staring at the cuffs around his wrists.
“So? I’m waiting,” Nick said. “Start talking, or you’re going to wind up behind bars for aiding and abetting a man charged with the murder of two federal agents and God only knows what else they’re going to nail him with.”
Paco panicked. What the hell? This was not the kind of shit he meant to get involved in.
“I don’t know nothing about no federal agents. But...yeah, I did call him the other day. Only he never called me back!”
“I’m supposed to believe that?”
Paco shrugged.
“So go check the phone and find out for yourself,” he muttered.
Nick tried another angle.
“Why did you call him in the first place?”
“I heard he was looking for two women. I don’t know what for, but I saw one of them a few days back and thought I could make a little extra dough. But I didn’t know where she was staying, so I went looking.”
“Why did you come to my place?” Nick asked.
“I heard you took out Dev Bosky at Centennial Hill Hospital while you were guarding the redhead Baba wanted gone. Then I saw you with the redhead when I was at work. Maybe it was coincidence, but I figured there was a chance she was staying with you. A good-lookin’ woman like that? I thought maybe you wanted to help her out...off duty.” Paco smirked at him with a knowing glint in his eyes.
Nick felt sick. He thought he’d been so careful, but even then with all the care he’d taken to get Quinn to a doctor and back, it hadn’t been enough. They’d still been seen.
“So what did you see?” Nick snapped, hoping this punk had been looking at the wrong time and hadn’t caught a glimpse of Quinn while they were outside.
Paco shrugged.
Nick slapped the table again.
“What the fuck did you see?”
“I saw her at your place, okay? But I didn’t tell anyone, so relax! I...” He paused, looking embarrassed. “I decided to celebrate a bit before I talked to anyone, but it got outta control and...here I am.”
Nick sat there staring at him, trying to figure out how he could make all this work and still keep Quinn safe. And then it hit him.
“Okay, asshole. You want a way out of this? Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get your phone and you’re going to send Baba a text telling him that you found one of the women he’s looking for, and you’re going to give him an address. Not mine, but one I’m going to give you, understand?”
“You want me to be the one to help bring Baba in? Jesus! He’ll kill me if I fuck him over,” Paco whined.
“And I’m going to kill you if anything happens to the woman,” Nick added. “Your choice.”
Paco glared at him.
“You’re a cop. You can’t threaten me like that.”
Nick leaned forward until his voice was just a whisper.
“You misunderstood. I wasn’t threatening you. That was a promise.”
Paco shuddered.
“What’s in this for me?”
“Well, for one thing, I won’t kill you,” Nick said.
Paco cursed.
Nick waited a beat, then added, “And maybe I can try to forget you were caught snooping around my house.”
Paco glared at him.
Nick got up and headed for the door.
“Wait! Wait!” Paco said. “I’ll do it.”
Nick pointed at him.
“Don’t move. I’ll be back.”
Nick left.
The guard took a stance between Paco and the door.
Paco looked at him and then looked away. It was hell cooperating with the cops.
* * *
Nick had to call the sheriff and let him know what was happening and get the okay to access Paco’s phone. Then he made a phone call to Gleason, as well.
Gleason answered on the second ring.
“This is Gleason. What’s up, Saldano?”
Nick quickly filled him in, explaining that the Peeping Tom was actually one of Anton Baba’s snitches who had come looking for Quinn. And since she was now a federal witness, anyone threatening her was a federal problem.
“I’ll go interview him this afternoon,” Gleason said.
“He won’t be there,” Nick said. “He got picked up on a drunk and disorderly, and once he’s arraigned this morning he’ll be gone.”
“And we don’t have anything to hold him on? He hasn’t made a threat or tried to harm O’Meara, has he?”
“If you don’t find a way to keep him here, don’t blame me if Quinn decides to leave you high and dry. She won’t feel safe if he goes free and is able to get in touch with Baba.”
“I thought you two were in a relationship? Can’t you convince her to testify?” Gleason asked.
“If people are trying to kill her and no one other than me is willing to help, what would you expect her to do?”
Gleason sighed. “Okay. We have a safe house here in the city. You give Paco that address, and if Baba shows up there, he’s ours. Let Miss O’Meara know we’ll do what we can do to get this guy behind bars so she can feel safe again—safe enough to testify.”
“Thanks,” Nick said, taking down the address Gleason gave him.
Then he went to get Paco’s phone out of evidence. They would have to get a search warrant and turn it over to the Feds and hope there was a record of calls or texts to Baba. If there wasn’t, then they had nothing on Paco Cruz but a simple Peeping Tom report. It was crucial that Cruz cooperate willingly, so Nick took the phone back to interrogation.
As he walked in, he glanced up at a mirror on the wall opposite the table where Paco was waiting, aware that Quinn was behind it, watching and listening.
“What took you so long?” Paco muttered.
Nick put the phone down on the table between them, then gave him a piece of paper with an address on it.
“Send your boss a text telling him the girl he’s looking for is at this address,” Nick said.
All of a sudden Paco got defensive. “What happens to me if I don’t?” he snapped.
Damn it, Nick thought. He had left him sitting alone too long. He’d had too much time to think about repercussions. Nick picked up the phone again and headed for the door without so much as a word. He wouldn’t be able to offer Paco anything he wanted to hear, so his best bet now was to make him fear the unspoken.
This was not what Paco had expected. An argument, sure. Maybe some kind of deal for participating willingly. But the cop was just going to walk out and leave him again, so Paco panicked.
“Wait! Hey, wait!” he yelled.
Nick paused, then turned around.
“I’ll do it!” Paco said. “I’ll send the text. Just tell me what to say.”
Nick walked back and laid the phone in Paco’s hands.
“This is what you type—‘I found the redhead you’re looking for. She’s at this address.’ Then send this address to him,” he said, laying down a piece of paper with the safe-house location scrawled in pen.
“And that’s all?” Paco said.
“Yes. That’s all,” Nick said, then watched Paco open the phone and pull up the right number in Contacts. Nick stood behind him to watch, making certain he typed only what he’d been told to say. The moment Paco hit Send, Nick took the phone and then signaled for the guard that he was finished and to lock Paco back up.
“Wait! When am I going to get out of here?” Paco yelled as Nick headed for the door.
“I don’t have any idea,” Nick said. “When you sent the text to a man wanted by the Feds, you immediately became part of their case.”
Paco stared.
“But you’re the one who came to me. You’re the one who was making all these threats to my life and then bringing me the phone to send your message. Why is this happening? Why am I now involved in a federal case because of your request?”
Nick walked back to the table and leaned down until he and Paco were eye to eye and so close he could smell the hangover on his breath.
“Because you messed with what’s mine,” Nick said. “Whatever happens to you with the Feds is unimportant to me. But if I ever see your face again, or if you ever mess with me or mine, I will make you sorry. Understood?”
Paco was shaking. A cop could easily look the other way for one of their own. It had just occurred to him how easy it would be for this man to kill him and get away with it.
Nick stood up and left the room. He had come close to crossing a line with this punk, and it had never occurred to him to pull back. Protecting Quinn was what mattered, and now he was going to get her and take her home. They had a sink full of dirty dishes and a family dinner to go to tonight. A life to live. He was done with bottom-feeders for today.
He paused in the hallway and called Gleason back.
“All right, Gleason. My Peeping Tom sent a text to Baba pointing him to your safe house. Now you make sure you file charges on him for abetting a man with a warrant out for his arrest.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll get someone on that,” he said.
Nick hung up, then kept winding his way through the hallways until he got to the observation room and went inside.
Quinn had gone through the gamut of emotions watching Nick work his magic on Paco Cruz. She was afraid that, once Cruz was released, he would be back for some kind of retribution. And then Nick did something that forever sealed the deal with her. She’d asked him once what it felt like to belong to family and now she knew. The moment she heard the words “don’t mess with what’s mine” come out of his mouth, she lost composure completely.
Today was the beginning of the rest of her life.
This time, when she watched Nick walk out of interrogation, she knew he was coming back to her. She turned her back to the two-way mirror to watch the door. One minute passed into another and then another, and then she heard footsteps and saw the door beginning to open. When she saw Nick, she walked directly into his arms.
Nick could tell by her silence that what she’d witnessed had rattled her. Maybe one day she’d trust him enough to admit she was frightened, but for now it was enough that she loved him.
“He’s more bluff than business,” Nick said as he wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll be okay. You’ll see. And the address he gave Anton Baba is to a federal safe house. They’ll be waiting for him when he shows.”
Quinn heard, but was afraid to believe it could be this easy.
“Don’t you believe me?” he asked, sensing her tension.
She lifted her chin and looked at him then. It was time for her to trust someone besides herself.
“Yes, I believe you,” she said.
He cupped her face with both hands and then kissed her, gently at first and then deeper until they were both a little shaky when he stepped back.
“Come with me, baby. I have to take the phone back to evidence and then we’re out of here.”
Quinn didn’t hesitate. She took his hand and together they walked away.
* * *
Anton was in the galley returning his dirty dishes and tossing out what was left of the food he didn’t eat when the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.
“We’re ten minutes away from landing at the hangar, sir. Please take a seat and buckle up.”
Anton wiped his hands, made a quick trip to the bathroom and then checked his disguise one last time before he returned to his seat.
Even though his white hair had been dyed black, he looked older this way. Maybe it was the salt-and-pepper beard and the condition of his clothing. He looked like a peon, and driving that old truck would add another layer to his disguise.
He went back to the main cabin and checked to make sure everything he needed was in his bag, then dropped his cell phone into the pocket of his jacket and buckled up.
There were many details to take care of, and they had to be dealt with in a timely fashion. He was in this mess because the people he’d sent had not done their jobs properly. So he’d already decided that the things that mattered most he would deal with himself.
When the plane began to descend, his gut knotted. Except for killing Ian for leaving Sammy behind at the wreck, it had been years since he’d had to get his hands dirty. Maybe it was a good thing to revisit from time to time. He didn’t want it ever to be said that Anton Baba had lost his edge.
The landing was perfect.
Paul emerged, lowered the stairs and then went to carry Anton’s things down.
But Anton stopped him.
“No, no, I’ve got this,” he said. “What I need you to do is go get the truck. If it needs gas, fill it up. I have a couple of calls to make while I’m waiting.”
“Yes, sir,” Paul said and took the stairs down two at a time and hurried toward the hangar.
Anton took out his phone to check for messages and saw he had one from Paco Cruz. He opened it, read the message and then smiled.
“Good man. Good man,” he muttered. “If she’s a smart girl, she’s hiding from me, so she won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll leave her on ice for the time being.”
He checked for other messages, but there were none, which he viewed as positive. He thought of his place here in Vegas. Elegant. Luxurious. Servants to do his bidding. Women waiting in his bed whenever he asked. And directly in the sights of federal agents. Like it or not, he was going to have to huddle with the masses. Just like old times back in Istanbul when he was a boy.
Fuck them all.
He’d be back on top again soon enough.
Then he heard the sound of an engine and looked out. Paul was bringing the old truck to the plane.
“Damn. It looks worse than I remembered,” he mumbled and then shouldered his bag and started down the steps to the tarmac.
Paul got out and held the door open for Anton.
“Will there be anything else I can do for you, sir?”
“No, but thank you for your service, Paul. It is always appreciated.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir,” Paul said, then watched Baba toss his old bag into the seat and get in. “Safe travels, Mr. Baba.”
“It’s Petrova now. Manny Petrova. Remember that in case I need another ride.”
“Will do, Manny,” Paul said and gave him a thumbs-up.
Anton put the old truck into gear and drove out of the private airstrip and headed toward the city.