Melissa Bourbon Ramirez - Lola Cruz 01 - Living the Vida Lola (34 page)

Joanie crouched in front of him, wiping away her tears. “She figured it out, George.” Her voice dropped to an erratic whisper. “I paid her. But it wasn’t enough. She
knew
and she was going to
tell
.”

I couldn’t tell how aware of her surroundings Joanie was. If I charged in, I could be shot. Or worse, Jack could be. I caught Sadie’s eye, waved my finger in the air, and pointed at the door leading belowdeck.
Distraction
, I mouthed.

She nodded as she inched to the side of the door, dripping, her arms bent at the elbow, her big-ass gun aimed at the sky. It was all about timing, and so far, Joanie had the upper hand, what with her hostages.

I tightened my grip on the bat. Hiking up my leg, I hit the door frame with all my might. The force of the blow reverberated up my arms and into my teeth.

“What the hell?” Joanie’s voice had regained its edge, her killer instinct surfacing. The gun popped again, and Bonatee let out an anguished cry.

Joanie wailed, and Mary cried, “My dad needs help!”

I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off my hairline, and held the bat up above my head. Since I couldn’t go down to her, I had to get Joanie to come up to me. I brought the bat down, smashing it against the outer cabin wall.

“What
is
that?”

A puddle grew around Sadie’s dripping body, but she held her gun at the ready.

The sounds of shuffling footsteps drifted up to me. My stomach whirled, but I managed to choke down the bile that crept up my throat. Catching a glimpse of tawny hair, instinct took over. Heaving my knee up to gain momentum, I swung the bat around, aiming for the middle of the door this time. The crack of Joanie’s gun going off and the snap of my bat making contact with the door were simultaneous. My body twisted, and my arms followed through on the swing.

Sadie charged, gun still trained on Joanie as she wobbled on the top step.

I caught Jack’s eye and held it for a split second. He nodded, and I knew that he’d finish taking Joanie down.

Joanie’s gun dropped and bounced down the stairs. Her arms airplaned as she tried to keep her balance. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jack move. I crow-hopped, hiked up my knee, and kicked her in the sternum. She wobbled, but managed to stay balanced; Jack was up the stairs in a split second and had his arms around her in a death grip. Her arms flailed and she kicked, but he maneuvered her to the ground. With her face down, he straddled her back and clasped her wrists with his good hand.

Mary held the gun by the tips of her fingers. I rushed down, Sadie at my heels, whipped the handcuffs from my pants, and slapped them on Joanie Case.

Finito
. It was over.

D
etective Seavers barreled down the dock, gun drawn, following after uniformed officers. About time. They sped onto the boat. A minute later, two officers dragged Joanie back up with them.

Jack came up next. His injured arm hung limp by his side. Guilt flooded me when I saw the blood running down it. “Oh my God.” He looked at me. His temple pulsed—whether from pain or anger, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t care. I whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Can’t say I like the people you hang with, Lola.”

Right, like I
hung
with Joanie Case—although I’d actually thought about it. She’d been so nice and had seemed so grounded and had great workout clothes. “I’m not a huge fan of them myself at the moment.” Except for Sadie. Tonight I was a
big
fan of hers. She’d stuck by me.

Jack’s gaze drifted over my shoulder, and I turned to see what had caught his eye. Manny stood at the end of the dock, talking to a police officer.

Sadie was hurrying over to them. “I especially don’t like him,” Jack said, his teeth gritted.

I chose to ignore the comment—and the fact that Jack was
practically shooting death rays at Manny. Camacho was my boss. No getting away from that. But his timing certainly sucked.

Jack tried to unbutton his shirt with one hand. “Help me get this off,” he said to me.

I undid the buttons and slid the shirt off his good arm first, working the fabric over the injury on his other arm. Even with a bullet wound, he looked good.

He kept silent. Maybe he didn’t want to think about why he’d taken a bullet. He clutched the shirt against his arm to stop the blood, grimacing at me.

“Your research is top notch,” I said, smiling to fight back the tears that threatened.

“Got me in deep water tonight.”

“What happened?” I asked. I was dying to know how Jack had ended up right in the thick of my case.

“I followed the lead on the boat and walked right in on Joanie begging Bonatee to take her back.” He gave a sheepish grin and a little shrug. “She saw me, pulled out that gun, and went postal.”

A hundred thoughts went through my head, beginning and ending with the fact that Jack had nearly died tonight because of me. “You helped me solve the case,” I said. “I wouldn’t have come to the marina if you hadn’t left me a message and—”

“And I’d probably be fish food,” he finished.

I looked up at him, not liking that image. “Funny man.”

“I took a bullet. Think you can make me feel better?” he asked. “After I get a Band-Aid and some pain meds.” He gave me a little squeeze with his good arm.

“Definitely.” I slid my hand up his chest, tangling my fingers in the spattering of hair spread across it. God, he felt good, too. My hands trembled against his skin, and my body went cold, the adrenaline letdown starting. “And now you’ll be able to write a killer article about the body art industry, right? And maybe one on psycho killing-mistresses?”

He managed to crack a smile as he leaned against me. “I might need to look at that piercing again to make it really compelling.”

Detective Seavers reappeared from belowdeck and stepped onto the dock. He glared at me. “What happened here, Ms. Cruz?”

I shivered. An ambulance wailed in the distance. “We had a little bit of a showdown.”

He frowned at me, pulled out a notepad, then turned to Jack. “And you are?”

“Jack Callaghan.”

Seavers’s sparse hair was moist around his scalp. He looked back at me. “You brought a civilian to help you?”

I held on to Jack. “He was a hostage.”

Flashing lights cut through the darkness as the ambulance pulled into the underground parking lot. Seavers, Jack, and I stepped out of the way as the paramedics raced by us and into the boat’s cabin. Four minutes later, they came back up. They carted Bonatee off the boat on a body board, a police officer by his side. Mary brought up the rear.

Manny strode across the dock, the uneven clip of his boots tapping against the wooden planks. Sadie, her gray blouse and black slacks stuck to her body, was just behind him.

Manny gave Jack a once-over.

“Camacho,” Jack said, his teeth clenched.

“Callaghan.” Manny’s lips were pulled tight. Then he turned to me. “So it was Joanie Case?”

“Yes.”

He lowered his chin. “You take her down?”

I nodded.

“And it almost got her killed,” Jack said.

Manny looked at me. “Her life, her choice.”

Sadie gave me a look that seemed to say
good choice
. Then she scowled at Manny. I hadn’t figured out what was going on
with those two, but I was pretty damn sure Sadie wanted to throttle him, and I had a suspicion her anger had to do with that history of theirs that she’d mentioned.

“I’m going to need a statement, Ms. Cruz.” Seavers’s stern voice cut through me.

Manny gave Seavers a hard look. “Give her a few minutes.”

The detective grumbled something under his breath, but he walked away.

Impressive. Camacho had power.

Then he turned his stern look to me. “Didn’t I tell you not to investigate alone?”

“Sadie was with me.” Whose side was he on, anyway? “And we called you, like, ten times. You didn’t pick up your cell phone.”

“Personal safety is the number-one rule. You can’t solve a case if you’re out of the game.” He put his hand on my back, letting it linger there for a second. “You have to be careful,
sarge
—” He paused and looked at Sadie, then at Jack. “Dolores.”

Jack tensed beside me, possibly from the bullet wound in his arm, but I didn’t think so.

Sadie had grown very still. She suddenly turned to me. “Dolores, I have some things I’d like to share with you.” She shot a look at Manny before turning back to me. “Next week, when we’re back in the office.”

Manny scowled, but I smiled and nodded. Had Sadie and I reached some unspoken level of camaraderie? Were we really a team now? The idea made me happier than I thought it would.

But I relegated my curiosity to the back of my mind as she walked away and as Detective Seavers came back toward us.

“Camacho,” the detective said. “There’s an Angelina Jolie look-alike waiting for you in the parking lot.” He handed Manny a folded slip of paper. “Wanted me to give this to you.”

The hairs on my neck stood up, and I felt my eyebrows raise in surprise. He’d brought his girlfriend
here
—to a crime scene?

The paramedic finally returned and pulled Jack aside to look at his arm as Manny opened the message from
Tomb Raider
girl. I’ll be damned if his lips didn’t quirk into the tiniest grin.

Okay, I was seriously out of the loop. He had the dark princess, Isabel, waiting in his truck. All that was missing was the ex-wife, and the soap opera would be complete.

A voice came from behind me. “We’re taking him to the hospital.”

I turned around. It was the paramedic. “What?”

“Mr. Callaghan’s arm needs attention.”

I forgot about Manny and focused on Jack. He’d taken a bullet for me. Well, not really, but it was still sexy as hell.

Jack wound his good arm around me. “Come with me.”

Warmth spread through me, the chill finally gone. I smiled. “I’ll be right behind you, Callaghan.”

He pulled away and gave me an expressionless look that I couldn’t decipher. Without him next to me, the chill was back. I watched as he was led up the dock and into the underground parking garage. It hit me then. I’d done this to him. It was going to take some serious work to make it up. But the man did things to me, so it was work we’d both enjoy.

Manny started down the dock. “Let’s go,” he said tersely.

He stood to the side and let me go first up the rickety stairs. Yikes. Yoga pants. Formfitting. My ass at his eye level.

I tried to be confident as I marched up. This was not how I wanted my boss looking at me. “What kept you, Manny?” I asked over my shoulder.

I turned around the second my foot hit flat ground.

His smoldering eyes jerked up to my face, and my pulse skittered. “Family business,” he said, his voice tight.

I was usually the one with family things going on. “Everything okay?”

“Fine. My wife—”

“Your ex-wife?”

He hesitated, and then ground out, “Never mind.”

I tried to be cool and went into detective mode. “Everything doesn’t sound all right.”

Manny’s eyes narrowed. “Not your concern.”

“Huh.” Okay, then, end of that conversation.

The uneven clip of his boots against the wooden planks thundered in my head. I asked the burning question. “How’d you get that limp?”

He slowed and looked at me. “I was shot.”

No kidding. I probably could have guessed that. “Who shot you?”
The spouse?

He didn’t answer.

We finally made it to the parking lot. I did a double take when I saw Isabel. Reilly had been right. She put everyday people to shame, including me and my curves. I’d never seen such perfection. I seriously thought people might go to war over her.

She sashayed toward Manny. “Finally, baby.” She kissed him—kissed
Manny
. “You got my note?”

He nodded and gently guided her back. She noticed me. “Oh. Manuel, are you going to introdu—?”

I raised an eyebrow.
Manuel?
Ick.

He hesitated for a beat then said, “Dolores Cruz. Isabel Martinez. Isabel, Dolores.”

“Mucho gusto,”
I said, holding my hand out to shake. Maybe some of her ethereal beauty would rub off on me.

She took it, her perfect red lips parted seductively. She blinked slowly, and for a second made me think I’d said “pleased to meet you” in some alien language instead of in Spanish.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she finally said. “You work with Manuel?”

“I work
for
him,” I said.

She looked at me for an extra-long beat. “Uh-huh. So you know his—”

Manny suddenly grabbed Isabel by the elbow. “Come on,” he barked, and steered her to the cab of his machismo truck.

Isabel thought I knew Manny’s what? Or who? Something tickled at the back of my brain, but I ignored it.
Focus, Lola
. Jack—the man who’d put his life on the line for me—was in the hospital. He was the only person I wanted to deal with right now.

I saw Sadie waiting at my smashed car. I started toward her. I still had to give Seavers a statement, but I could do that at the hospital.

“Dolores,” Manny called.

I stopped and turned around. Dolores. No nickname in front of Isabel.
Good move, boss
. “Yes?”

“Buen trabajo.”

My eyes bugged.
Good job?
A full-blown, unsolicited compliment? Holy cow. And all it had taken was two men getting shot and my single-handed apprehension of a killer. Okay, apprehension of a killer with a lot of help, but still…

“Gracias,”
I said. I was filled with pride. “I learned from the best.”

He nodded, and I thought I caught the smallest hint of a satisfied smile. He opened the driver’s door of his truck and threw a quick glance in Sadie’s direction. “You did good,” he said when his eyes settled on me again.

Thank God he got into his truck, because I couldn’t control the goofy smile that erupted on my face. He pulled away, and I heard his words again in my head. I’d done good.