Luke
“Let’s kill him.”
Keith doesn’t beat around the bush.
When I ask for ideas to deal with Detective Art Dayton, he jumps for the kill. It’s not that simple though. Dayton isn’t Derrick Smyth. He might be as vile, but the man’s a decorated officer, and I don’t need his friends in high places falling all over Potentia to get to me and my family. I had to think about more than my ego here.
And I’m not the only one Dayton’s affecting. There’s Lily.
After she called to inform me Dayton had stopped by the office, it took all my willpower to keep from destroying everything in my path to get to her in Potentia.
But I stayed in St. Louis, in the closed nudie bar’s backroom where Russ and Keith minded the door while I had a talk with Maurice, the lost-and-found owner.
He’d been avoiding me after I found out he used my loan to start an underground club of sorts, shuttling in his more vulnerable, young dancers and releasing dangerous, wealthy men on them. The idea was to turn out a larger profit from this more depraved clientele.
I got the information first-hand from a girl Russ saved. The young woman was battered and bruised. Tortured really. She explained how her student visa expired and she wanted to continue to stay in America and study but she had little money. Being the immoral creep he is, Maurice plied her with false promises of funding for her visa. It was more than enough for me to get involved.
Now the perverted little fuck was in my hands and I was doling out the pain and anger I felt for Dayton on the skinny man’s ribs. Maurice begged for me to let him go, so I finally did, dropping him off at one of the precincts in the city before burning rubber in the direction of Potentia.
Lily’s not alone in her apartment. Her friend Kerry, who had driven herself and Lily here in my car, answers the door and navigates me to the bedroom. She stays behind in Russ’ embrace. Keith stays in the apartment building’s lobby.
Lily is lying in bed, atop her comforter, her plump ass clad in tight, dark jeans, her creamy flesh teasing me as her short tee rides up. At my entry, she sits up, her honeyed brown waves tumbling back from her red face.
Shit. She’s been crying.
“Did he fucking hurt you?” I grit out once she’s in my arms, warm, soft, and sweet-smelling. My chin rests on her crown as her warm breath puffs out over my chest, her story fueling the fire of righteousness in my gut.
I’m forcing myself to draw her back, my hands smoothing over her cheeks and my mouth angling over hers. The kiss calms us both, but I still need to make her a promise. “It’s going to stop. Art Dayton isn’t going to talk to you again, you hear?” Her dark brown eyes grow wide with where I know her thoughts are taking her.
I give a sharp shake. “I’m not going to hurt him, Lily. But he’s also not going to bother you anymore.”
“Okay,” she says softly, nodding. Her eyes shine with her trust...and worry. God, she’s worried for me when I’m crawling up the walls in fear of her getting involved in this mess of mine. And it is solely mine.
I dragged her in by suggesting she fake fucking the boss. Turns out nothing has been false about the actual sex.
That’s all me and her—hot, sweaty, dirty, and liberating.
I leave Kerry with a message to take care of Lily for me.
Kerry gives me a sharp look. “I’ve been with that girl for three years. We’ll be fine.” She glances at Russ and nods.
Which brings us to this moment where I’m considering Keith’s play very seriously, and that scares me more than Dayton harming Lily or turning her against me, making himself out as the good guy here.
“No,” I shake my head, recalling my oath to Lily. Dayton’s life wasn’t going to end at my hands. Nor would I find a loophole and send Russ and Keith off to pay him a visit. “No killing.” I tell them both firmly.
Russ folds his arms, leaning back against his ride.
One of the perks of working with me: I give my men tricked out cars. And the only thing a man needs is his wheels and a fine woman riding shotgun.
Lucky dogs we are, Russ and I have Kerry and Lily.
Two innocent women tossed into our sullied hands, and it’s not just car oil staining them. Russ isn’t coy about his kills. Once a U.S. Marine Corporal, and discharged honorably, Russ landed in my father’s employ and I noticed his talent, coaxing him to work for me.
My father can be stingy with money. I’m generous, so long as I feel it’s deserving and well-rewarded.
But I have no clue what Keith’s background is, only that Russ trusts him so he’s standing here with us, griping about Dayton.
“What do we know?”
“He’s a douche,” Keith huffs. A look from Russ shuts him up, and like a scolded child, Keith ducks his head, eyes narrowing, lips wrinkling. Tall, with a shock of white blond hair, Keith’s barely-there brows furrow. I’m almost worried for Russ, but then I catch sight of his chest piece. If anyone’s unprotected here, it’s me.
I don’t do guns. I own a couple—one behind a false cushion in the driver’s seat of my Lexus—but I have yet to fire them off. I hope I’ll never have to, though they’re there for a reason. Not all my business deals have gone smoothly, and I’ve dealt with gunfire blazing my way. It keeps a man on edge.
But now I’m slipping out of my seat from the tension.
“Found out more about who might have pulled the strings to save Dayton’s ass in the police force.” Russ shares some interesting information about a lieutenant colonel’s wife intervening. She’s also the mayor’s secretary.
“That high up?” I rub my chin, contemplative. “So, are you implying he’s closer friends with the wife than the lieutenant colonel or, say, the mayor?”
Russ’ lips twist in a wry smile. “I am.”
In one way that eases me. If Dayton has screwed a powerful friend’s wife, it says little of his morals, making me not care if his ass is turned out to the streets. Then again, he’s displayed a past tendency to cross the line with women, to use them to get what he wants, so how does Lily fare against him?
Not good, that’s how.
Standing taller, I let Keith and Russ in on the plan.
“We keep watching him for now,” I say.
Russ is on board, but it’s not what Keith wants to hear.
“I still think we should shut him up for good.” Keith is sticking to the murder route. Russ scowls his way. I’m giving him a blank look.
Little brain and lots of brawn—at least he’s somewhat useful.
“Just stay near. I want you taking separate cars. Two pairs of eyes in two different locations will suit us better. Someone take his house and another the station. We keep this between us for now.” I direct that last part at Keith. Though he hardly looks the chatty type, his mouth has already run off a couple times in front of me. I need to ensure we’re all on the same page.
Dayton might be a fool for coming to Potentia, trying to climb the ranks by dragging my family name through the mud, but I’m not about to call the man a complete lunatic. There’s madness to every method, and it’s all about getting into Dayton’s mind. What is the bastard thinking?
Dayton probably wants to reclaim his old glory, and what better way than to tie the Hanleys to murder one? Now I need a play. It’s doubtful he’ll take money, so maybe I’ll dangle my power in front of him. See how he likes Potentia when the heat is turned his way.
For now I’ll be climbing to see a friend in a high place myself.
Russ has informed me Dayton’s left for St. Louis. The man owns a second home there that he has yet to put on the market. Keith takes that location with Russ’ car while Russ and I take my car to the local station.
The same officer is behind the desk. If he recognizes me from my visit a month ago, he doesn’t reveal it by sending me in the direction of Art Dayton’s office. Instead when I ask to see his chief, he dials a number and sends me right through.
That’s the Hanley name at work there. Access to the police chief’s office in a finger snap.
“Chief Isaac.” I shake the man’s hand.
He’s standing, waiting for me near the door. His handshake is firm and he claps his other hand over mine. Unlike Dayton, Isaac is all smiles. “It’s good to see you, Luke. I was just with your father yesterday. We had a round of poker; of course, he cleaned me out.” He held up his hands and chuckled.
Gesturing to a seat in front of his desk, he rounds to plop down in his chair. “How’ve you been? All this time I’ve been getting second-hand reports from your pops, but it’s great to see you in the flesh.”
I smile. I like Isaac. He’s mellow, capable, and deserving of his position. He’s also the guy I’m depending on to help me turn this around as gently as possible.
“I’ve been good.” I say, relaxing before I dive into the issue at hand. “And how’s your family? The wife? The kids?”
He catches me up on his brood, all seven of his children. It’s no surprise they had seven kids. Though they’re well into their 60s, like my father, they cuddle and canoodle like randy teenagers.
Funny how that gets me thinking of Lily. But before I can analyze how my thoughts went that route, Isaac steers the conversation to Derrick’s murder.
“I heard about that.” I say.
“It’s nasty stuff, Luke.” He scratches at his jaw and the short, salt-and-paper beard, his shaggy, graying brows sweeping down. “Bad business, I say. Nothing like it in Potentia, not in my twenty-three years of service here. Sure, we have the occasional crackheads getting rowdy, somebody getting hurt, but this?”
“You suspect foul play?”
Sighing, Isaac leans forward. “Between you and me, this Smyth wasn’t a clean guy. We have his priors and they’re an arm’s length and none of them for petty crimes. We’re talking prostitution, alleged sex-trafficking, drugs, smuggling, and extortion. He’s been busy, that’s for sure, right up to his death by the looks of it.”
“I heard. Two bullet holes.”
“Oh?” Isaac’s brows pop up.
I explain my visit to Dayton, a good enough segue to where I’m taking this conversation.
“I see,” Isaac hums, his silence broken by a knock on the door. It’s the officer from the front desk. He’s here to tell me I have a visitor waiting out there. I figure it’s Russ and if he’s in here then he must have tried to reach me to warn me of Dayton’s return.
And he couldn’t call me because I don’t have my phone on me. Wonderful. I forgot the damn thing in the car. My head’s been God-knows-where since Lily told me about her brush with Art Dayton a few hours back.
Guess I’ll have to speed things up.
“Dayton’s been questioning me, Chief, about Derrick Smyth. I wouldn’t worry so much if it were only me, but he’s going after my girlfriend as well.”
“Has he?” Chief Isaac’s scowl gives me hope. “That’s odd. And how long’s this been going on?”
I tell him a month. That deepens the brackets around his mouth, the flesh between his brows puckering up with his confusion.
“That’s troubling,” he drawls.
“I took Dayton on because of his stellar record in the city, and the references of both the mayor and a lieutenant colonel. I was happy to have an experienced officer join our force.”
So what Russ has told me checks out—Dayton does have connections high up and the mayor and a senior police official have his back.
“I heard about his partner’s dying in his last sting, a narcotics bust involving a sex ring, if my memory’s all tidy up here.” Isaac tapped his temple, then lowered his hand. “But what I don’t get is why he’s reaching out to you?”
“I believe a witness saw Derrick Smyth near the dealership. Then again, Floyd and I have filed reports of criminal activity before on our property after hours. Mostly teens smoking pot, setting up base back there.” I don’t need to mention the vacant, untamed land surrounding Hanley Auto. The chief knows.
“That’s right. I took some of those reports myself,” he says. Then he sighs. “I knew Dayton was on the case, but I have to admit, I didn’t see much sense in pursuing it and exhausting our energies, at least not in Potentia.
“Then again, I want to know these streets are safe. My kids are all grown up, but there are plenty of worried parents wondering if a dangerous, gun-wielding maniac is out there. My bet is on a deal gone wrong; Smyth crossing the wrong person, but that’s it. The case is Dayton’s...was Dayton’s.”
I try not to show my elation at that last part.
“Clearly I got him pegged wrong.” Chief Isaac allows that statement to hang in the air. Then he bobs his head, decision made. “I’ll see to it that I have a talk with him. Don’t you worry Luke, and tell your girlfriend she hasn’t got anything to fret about.”
We finish off with some small talk, and I leave the chief’s office feeling confident that Art Dayton is ruined.