A Raging Dawn (23 page)

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as if daring us to argue with his impeccable logic.

“You didn’t kill Tymara?” I asked, furious he couldn’t see that she had died because of him. But he took my question literally.

“Nah. How could I? I was locked up, awaiting trial. It was the Brothers. Trying to help get me off. Destroy the evidence, you know.”

“This Brotherhood, first they blackmailed you into letting them beat and gang-rape the woman you loved.” Devon’s voice sliced sharper than a scalpel. “And when you don’t take care of the evidence yourself, they clean up for you, help you get free of the charges? Why would they do that?”

“They sent me a message when I was in jail. Said if I kept my mouth shut, they’d make sure I went free. That I could join them, be one of the shot-callers. When Tymara didn’t show and we were winning in court, I figured that lawyer guy must have been in on it, but then,” he glared at me, “all hell broke loose, and next thing I know, I’m up on charges again.”

I leaned forward, furious he could have thought Jacob of all people might be working with sadistic, thrill-seeking animals like the Brotherhood. “But you’re free now. Why target Jacob?”

A sly grin slid across his lips, tightening his eyes. He reached into his pocket. Devon straightened, on alert, but Littleton merely pulled out a handful of photos. “These were waiting for me when I got home. Along with instructions to be at that school, wait out front. They said it was my initiation.”

He pushed the photos across the table to me, then flipped them over. Jacob’s smiling face stared out at me. I shuffled through the photos with trembling hands. They had all been taken at Jimmy’s Place. Images of me and Jacob playing, dancing; also Evie, Jimmy, my mom. Everyone I held dear. The date stamps ranged from weeks to over a month ago—before I met Ryder, which explained why he wasn’t in any of them. I looked up at Littleton. “I don’t understand.”

“They blame you. You’re the one who saved Tymara. You’re the one got her to go to the cops. You’re the one made her testify. And then when the public defender’s office changed lawyers on me, guess they figured you were sleeping with the enemy.”

“That’s crazy. Do you have any idea the turnover at the PD’s office? Lawyers get reassigned all the time. And Jacob isn’t your enemy—”

Emotions overran my logic, and the photos fluttered from my suddenly numb fingers. Jacob. I shuddered at the memory of the crack that his head made when they pounded it against the curb. Even if he survived, he’d never be the same. Somehow, I found the courage to raise my face and meet Littleton’s gaze. His eyes glinted with glee at my anguish. “This was all because of me?”

“Sorry, doc. Betray one brother, betray us all. You’re marked for life—at least your family is.” He tapped the stack of photos, drawing out one of Evie. “Your sister, she sure is pretty.”

I slapped his face so hard he rocked back against the back of the booth. He raised a hand to his bloody mouth. His smile never faltered. “Take it easy, doc. I’m here to help you.”

“Who are they?” I stood up in the booth. If Devon hadn’t pulled me back, I would have lunged across the table and clawed that smile from Littleton’s face. “Tell me!”

“Control her,” Gena called from the front of the restaurant. “Or I’m leaving with my client now.”

“It’s cool,” Littleton said, giving her a small wave. He leaned back in the booth, out of my range. “Don’t know any names, didn’t really see any faces. They wore masks. All I could see were their eyes.”

“Were they white, black, young, old, all men? How many are there?” Devon persisted.

“Not too young—late twenties, early thirties. I only saw two up close. One white, one black. Dressed real nice. Suits and nice shoes like yours.” He nodded to Devon’s Italian loafers.

“Like they had money.”

“Oh yeah, they definitely had money. Don’t know why they had to slum it just to get some pussy, but go figure.”

I looked away in disgust, glad Devon was doing the talking, because it was taking all my willpower not to spit in Littleton’s face.

“Anything else?”

“They wore gloves, but one of them, the black guy, definitely had a wedding ring on underneath, I could see.”

“Distinguishing marks? Voices?”

He hesitated, his gaze narrowed, his expression that of an animal caught in a trap, deciding if it was time to chew off his own foot to escape. “Maybe. But you gotta promise me protection before I say more.”

Devon’s stare was heavy. I shifted my weight, half-hoping he’d refuse and let Littleton get what he deserved. But as despicable as the man was, he was our only lead to the monsters behind this.

Devon nodded. “Deal.”

Littleton’s smile slithered across the space between them. “Okay, then. Guy you’re looking for, the main guy, I can give him to you. Heard his voice, recognized it after I got arrested.” He paused, taking the time to turn and glance my way. “He’d have reason to go after your lawyer friend. Damn good reason.”

I couldn’t help myself. “Who? Who attacked Jacob?”

“The other lawyer. Mr. D.A. Man. Cruz.”

“Manny? No way, he’d never—” I broke off, remembering how reluctant he’d been throughout Tymara’s case. The way he turned every case into a game, determined to be the winner, as if he were keeping score. No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“That’s the man. Leader of the pack.” Littleton scooted out of the booth and stood. Gena moved forward from her position at the other side of the dining area. “Now, your end of the deal. I need cash, a lot of it. Enough to get me out of town safe and sound.”

“You’ll get your money. After you help us get Manny Cruz and the others.”

“No way. These guys are dangerous. I’m risking my life just talking to you.”

Devon slid out of the booth as well. Despite the fact that Littleton had several inches and a good twenty pounds on him, when they faced off, it was Littleton who cringed and shrank to the point where he was looking up at Devon.

“There’s no man more dangerous in Cambria City than me,” Devon said. “Only, I won’t hurt you, Eugene.”

He smoothed Littleton’s collar with an intimate gesture, hand on Littleton’s shoulder. “I’ll do much, much worse. I’ll send you back to jail and let them know what a rat you are—and you know what happens to rats in jail. But I’ll make sure they won’t kill you. No, you’ll live a long, long life getting exactly the kind of treatment you gave Tymara Nelson. Every single day.”

Littleton squirmed, the color draining from his face. Devon’s fingers clamped down on the sensitive bundle of nerves running under Littleton’s collarbone. Littleton yelped in pain, his arm suddenly dangling useless at his side. He glanced at me in panic. “Doc, you wouldn’t let him do that, right? You couldn’t. You’re a doctor, you took an oath or something, right?”

I stepped back, into the shadows. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you gave Tymara to those animals. If I were you, I’d do exactly as Mr. Price says. Because one thing I can promise you, Mr. Price is a man of his word.”

USUALLY, IT TOOK
six hours minimum to drive from the school back to Cambria City, but Flynn was determined to make it in less. She’d debated calling Devon, letting him know of her decision to bring Esme home to see Dr. Rossi, but had to wait until she stopped for gas so Esme wouldn’t overhear. By then he’d already left several text messages and voice mails telling her he was worried about Esme and to call. How’d he know? Some kind of psychic tie to his daughter? She tried to call him back, but there was no answer.

Whatever. They were on the same wavelength—Esme needed to be back home, and the sooner Flynn got her there, the better.

“Is he going to be mad at me?” Esme asked from her seat in the back of the Audi after they pulled out of the gas station. Gone was any hint of bravado or bossy princess.

“Who?” Flynn answered, focusing on the road ahead, scanning for cops as she edged her speed higher.

“Daddy. Will he be mad that I wet the bed?” She sounded scared. Flynn wished she could pull over again to give Esme a hug, some sign that she wasn’t in this alone. But urgency overrode any hint of maternal instinct.

“Of course not. Your daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world.” It was the truth, even if Devon would never admit it. Flynn had seen the way he looked at Esme, knew what he’d sacrificed for her safety.

Esme sat in silence, chewing the tip of her braid, a habit she’d begun after her first week at school.

“Ozzie will be there,” Flynn promised, hoping it wasn’t a lie.

Esme brightened at that. “I miss him. Can I stay there? With Ozzie and Daddy and you? We can have a family again.”

Flynn glanced in the rearview, wincing at the hopeful expression on Esme’s face. She desperately wanted to say yes, to promise the moon and the stars to the little girl.

Headlights glared at her as a car raced past going the other way. Flynn turned her focus back on the road. Her job wasn’t to make empty promises that would end up stabbing deeper than any painful truth.

Her job was to keep Esme safe.

<<<>>>

DEVON AND I
left Littleton in the booth and moved to the kitchen, where we could talk privately. Gena took her cue and rejoined her client. She seemed curiously unconcerned about whatever he’d told us—maybe because Devon and I had no official standing. Or was it because Devon was paying her bill, and all that rhetoric when we walked in was for my benefit, covering her ass? If Devon wanted Littleton, would Gena deliver him?

“Do you believe him?” I asked.

Devon leaned against the wall, his posture deceptively relaxed. His gaze never left Littleton, slouched in the corner of the booth across the restaurant. Gena sat with him, her back to us.

I didn’t wait for his answer. I called Jimmy. If I called my mom, there was a good chance she’d do the opposite of anything I asked and I didn’t want to upset Evie more than she already was. “Where are you guys?”

“In the waiting room at Good Sam’s,” he answered. “Where the hell are you? Your mother needs you now. I haven’t seen her this upset since your father.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, searching for strength. “The men who did this. To Jacob. They might also be targeting the rest of the family. You, Mom, Evie, the boys.”

“Not while I’m around they won’t.”

“Can you watch over them? Just until morning, then I can ask Devon to send some of his guys to help.”

“I can take care of my own damn family. Including you. Where are you? When are you coming here?”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” I hung up before he could ask more questions I couldn’t answer.

Devon was on his own phone, leaving another message for Flynn. He glanced at the clock over the stove, not bothering to hide his worry.

“I’m sure they’re okay,” I told him.

“I think I should drive up there.” He glanced toward the seating area where Littleton and Gena waited, obviously torn.

“Did you check the GPS on Flynn’s car?” I suggested.

He grimaced. “I’m losing it. Should have thought of that myself.” He worked with his phone. “They’re halfway here. Shit, why didn’t she call me back?”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk in front of Esme. No matter, they’re safe. Now, what do we do about Littleton? It makes no sense,” I continued without waiting for his answer. “If Manny is involved, why take the risk? Why didn’t they just kill Littleton?” My skin crawled at the thought of Manny being involved. He was Jacob’s friend, and to do that to Tymara? I didn’t like the man, but I never would have imagined him a sadistic killer. “It would have been so much easier than this elaborate cat-and-mouse game.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun?” I stared at him.

“Sure. These guys don’t get off on just the violence. They’re in it for the game, the challenge. Like the way Eugene played you with those photos of your family.”

“Game.” Had to admit, that did sound like Manny. “Fun. Raping and torturing an innocent woman. Watching all those people claw their own faces off tonight. Beating a defenseless man into a coma. It’s insane.”

“No. Totally sane. I think Eugene has one thing right: These guys are intelligent, successful, and terminally bored. I used to see this kind of stupid-ass competition with the Russians. Taunting each other with dares. Only, with Eugene’s Brotherhood, after they got a taste for the adrenaline rush, they escalated to torture by proxy. Have to admit, it’s smart. They get their jollies with little risk. If they were ever caught, it’d probably never be prosecuted—unless you got one of them to turn on the others.”

He thought about that. “Even then it might be difficult if one of them is a lawyer. Better yet, a prosecutor, in tight with the cops.”

“You already suspected someone in law enforcement was involved. That’s why you didn’t call Ryder when you found Littleton.” I let the accusation hang in the air between us.

“You know how corrupt the DA’s office is. Besides, even a Boy Scout like Ryder would admit, sometimes the only way to take out the trash is to burn it yourself.”

“No. Ryder would never admit that.”

“Would you?” His stare was heavy.