Reaper (7 page)

Kozak easily and eagerly, leaped into the back seat. As soon as Brian was seated, the dog nuzzled the side of his neck.

Zack watched, grinning, before putting everything in the trunk of the car and joining them. “I think you have a friend for life.”

“Well, that’s the idea, isn’t it?” Brian said, reaching back to pat Kozak’s head before putting the car in gear and pulling out of the lot.

* * * *

Zack sat beside Dallas, studying him as he slept. “I still wonder,” he said softly, “how I got so lucky to find you?”

Dallas looked up at him, rubbing his eyes. “I was the lucky one.”

“We both were, I think,” Zack replied, kissing him. “Now, up and at ‘em. We have places to go and things to do.”

“Don’t wanna,” Dallas grumbled. “Can I just do you before going to work?”

“A tempting offer, but no.” Zack took Dallas’ hands and pulled him upright. “Now you put your feet on the floor, stand, and…”

“Got it.” Dallas freed one hand, cupped the nape of Zack’s neck and kissed him. “Sure we can’t stay here?” He patted the bed.

With a definite eye roll, Zack got up. “Go.” He pointed to the bathroom.

Muttering that Zack was no fun, Dallas did. Several minutes later, he was dressed, with his uniform in his bag. “Because I don’t think my going to look at the building dressed for work would be the brightest idea I’ve ever had.”

Zack agreed. He was wearing the same dark jeans and black long-sleeved T-shirt he’d had on when he’d gone to see Brian. “Casual works.”

* * * *

When they arrived at the building, Zack found a parking spot in the small lot behind it. He locked the car, set the alarm and entered the building through the back door. The moment they were inside, Dallas put a finger to his lips. Zack realized why a moment later as he heard sounds of movement from the second floor.

“Someone crashing?” Dallas murmured.

“Best guess, yes. But let’s not take any chances,” Zack barely whispered. “There were gang tags on the walls up there, though they were old ones.”

Dallas didn’t seem the least bit surprised when Zack took his knife from its waistband sheath, holding it in one hand as they made their way to the stairs.

Zack pointed to himself then the stairs, indicating Dallas should hang back for the moment. Dallas nodded, and Zack began his slow ascent, trying to avoid the worst of the steps to keep them from creaking. When he got to the top, he paused to locate the intruders. Soft voices came from the room at the back. Zack made his way there then inched the door open.

Three teens—two male and one female—sat huddled together, sharing a joint. Zack recognized one of them and stepped into the room after shaking his head to make his hair fall the way Reaper wore it.

Should have worn my leathers. Oh, well. At least my shirt passes, more or less.

He also sheathed the knife, but kept his hand on the hilt for the moment.

“Hell,” the younger teen groaned, trying to hide the joint behind his back.

“Not working, Taxi,” Zack told him. He eyed the others, grinning slightly. “Smoke ’em if you got ’em, as they used to say in the Army, way back when.”

“You know this dude?” the older boy asked Taxi.

“Yeah. It’s Reaper. What are you doing here, man? Thought you only came out at night,” Taxi said somewhat defiantly.

“I’m always around,” Zack told him.

“Keeping us safe,” the girl said. “Least that’s the story.”

“It’s the truth,” Zack agreed. He stiffened, aware someone was behind him from the looks on the teens’ faces and hoped to hell it was Dallas.

“Shit, I know that guy. He’s a cop,” the older boy exclaimed. “Reaper, get out!” He pointed to a half-open window.

Zack turned to look. “Well, hello, Officer Comstock. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Saw the front door open and decided to check things out,” Dallas replied without missing a beat. He looked at the kids. “Tank, good thing marijuana’s legal now or I’d have to arrest you, even though I’m not in uniform.”

“Yeah, you’re outta luck, this time,” Tank muttered.

Dallas smiled. “I’m sure I’ll have other chances. You three might want to vacate the premises, though. You
are
trespassing.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl said, jumping to her feet.

“You”—Dallas shot a hard look at Zack—“I want to have a few words with.”

The kids eased their way toward the window and moments later, they were through it. Zack heard the rattle of their footsteps as they raced down the fire escape.

“Well,
Reaper
, what now?” Dallas asked with a grin. “Do I bring you in?”

Zack snorted. “If you were going to do that, you’d have done it years ago. Now we do what we came for—check out the building. And hope we don’t find anyone else using it.”

Chapter Seven

It was well after two a.m. Tuesday morning when Reaper spotted one of the cars he was looking for by its color and the license plate. It was AA, not A4, as Scooby had said, and it was a newer Fiesta. From the driver’s silhouette, he had curly hair. Reaper was too far away to tell if it was black or not, but he was dead certain it was his man.

The car was moving slowly down the street. Two blocks ahead of it, Reaper could see a couple of girls standing by the proverbial streetlight. Keeping deep in the shadow of the buildings, Reaper raced after the car. As he did, he felt his phone vibrate at his waist. Stopping only long enough to read the short message, he texted back
I’m here
, knowing at that point one of the girls he saw had been at the meeting at Frank’s Place.

The car slowed even more, inching over to the curb in front of the girls. Whatever the driver said made the taller girl wave her hand in negation and back away. The shorter one, however, stepped up to the car, crouching to talk to the driver. She gestured toward an alley half a block away. Zack could see the driver shake his head then, seconds later, nod.

The car crept forward, stopping right in front of the alley, while the girl hurried down the street and stopped just inside the entrance. The driver got out, leaving the car door open, and walked toward his prey. By then, Reaper was directly across the street from them. He heard a muffled cry as the driver grabbed the girl and saw him cover the girl’s mouth with his hand while wrapping his arm around her waist. She struggled when he started back to the car.

Reaper moved to the car. He closed the door and was pressed against the wall next to the alley when the man finally carried the girl out to the dark sidewalk. Now that he had a clear view of her, Reaper recognized the girl. It was China, the one who had always raised her hand at the meeting before speaking. She continued to struggle, raking her nails up the man’s arm. It didn’t help her gain her freedom, but it did keep the man’s attention focused on her long enough for Reaper grab a handful of his hair and yank his head back.

The abductor let out a shout of surprise, mixed with a bit of pain. His hold loosened on China as he moved his hand from her mouth to his waistband, but he didn’t let her go. When he raised his hand again, he was holding a knife.

“Bet mine’s bigger than yours,” Reaper said, pushing the point of the blade just under the man’s ear.

The man’s reply was to shove China away hard enough that she landed on her hands and knees on the pavement. Then he jerked his head forward, spun around and thrust his knife toward Reaper’s gut. Only Reaper wasn’t standing where his assailant had expected, as the man found out seconds later when Reaper’s boot landed hard and fast on his hip. The man staggered then regained his footing, but it was too late. Reaper slammed him against the car, one knee between the assailant’s legs, before he wrenched the knife from the man’s hand.

“Move even an inch and I’ll crush your balls before I slit your goddamned throat,” Reaper growled, holding his own knife against the man’s jugular while tossing the other one toward China.

“I just wanted the cunt to give me a blow job,” the guy whimpered in terror.

“That would be
lady
,” China said from a few feet away, having regained her feet. She held his knife as if she was going to gut him if she got the chance.

“And dragging her into your car is not the way to get one,” Reaper pointed out, moving the blade just enough to leave a thin line of blood on the man’s throat. “Now, who are you working for?”

“No one,” he whined. “I don’t work for no one.” As he spoke, he tried to grab Reaper’s arm. Reaper brought his knee up hard into the man’s groin.

“Do that again and you’re dead,” Reaper told him tightly. “Who do you work for?”

The man choked out, “No one. I swear. I just—”

“Like kidnapping girls and taking them somewhere to play with?”

The guy stayed mute but the look on his face said Reaper had hit the nail on the head.

“So what do I do with you?” Reaper said, as if talking to himself.

“Cut off his balls,” China spat.

“One option,” Reaper agreed. “Or…” He whipped the attacker around, pushing him face forward against the car. “China, doll, take his belt off of him, please.”

“You want me to touch the bastard,” she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Besides, I can’t get to the buckle the way you got him.”

Wrapping his arm around the man’s neck in a chokehold, Reaper pulled him away from the car just enough for China to unbuckle the belt and pull it free. Reaper forced him down on his knees, put one foot on his back and shoved him to the ground. Grabbing the man’s arms, Reaper pulled them behind him. He didn’t have to tell China what to do. She put the belt around her assailant’s wrists and pulled it so tightly he let out a yelp of pain.

“Now can I cut off his balls?” she asked almost gleefully.

“I’ll help,” the girl she’d been with said, finally joining them.

“No. I have a better idea,” Reaper replied. Flipping the man over, he undid the closure on his pants and pulled them off, along with his shoes, leaving him in just his briefs and socks below the waist. Then, using his knife, he cut off his shirt. “Find his wallet and tell me who he is,” Reaper told China. When she did, Reaper knelt down, saying, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Langley. I have one thing to say to you before I dispose of you.”

“You can’t kill me,” Langley whimpered. “That’s murder.”

“You were going to rape her. In my book, that’s a hell of a lot worse than murder.”

“You can’t rape a whore,” Langley protested.

Reaper backhanded him. “You heard her. She’s a lady. Now apologize.” When it looked as if Langley wouldn’t, Reaper backhanded him again, saying, “I can keep this up all night—or what’s left of it.” He paused when the lights of a car lit the end of the street. “Ladies, get into the alley.”

The girls did as he’d said while he dragged Langley into the shadow of his vehicle. The car drove past them, the driver apparently unaware there was anyone around. When it was gone, Reaper pulled Langley to his feet and marched him into the alley. After pushing him against the wall, Reaper got right in his face, saying, “I’m not going to kill you—tonight. But if I ever see you in this neighborhood, or hear that you’ve been trying to pick up any of my friends, I will find you. And”—he smiled evilly—“I know where you live.”

With that said, Reaper hauled Langley over to the nearest dumpster, cold-cocked him and tossed him into it.

“Okay, ladies,” he said, wiping his hands together. “I suggest you get back to wherever you’re staying.” He walked over to China and gave her a hug. “You done good.”

“I was scared shitless,” she admitted, hugging him back. “I was afraid you wouldn’t get here in time when I called.”

“Someone was watching over us—all of us,” he added, smiling at the other girl. “Now off with you while I call the cops and let them know they need to pick up some trash.”

* * * *

“Again?” Mike grumbled when he heard the dispatcher say there was a report of a naked man in a dumpster.

Dallas hid a smile. “Sounds like Reaper struck again. Let’s take the call.”

“I wish he’d just drop them off at the station house,” Mike said, as he turned the corner, heading to the dumpsite.

Dallas acknowledged the call and said they’d handle it. He chuckled, saying to Mike, “If we ever see him, suggest it.”

“Trust me. I will.”

* * * *

“Mike had a suggestion,” Dallas said several hours later when he walked into the bedroom.

“About? And you need a shower. You smell,” Zack replied, buttoning his shirt.

“I washed up as best as I could. And I wouldn’t have had to if someone I know”—he looked sourly at Zack—“would quit dropping people into dumpsters. You need a new place to dispose of them.”

“Such as?” Zack asked.

Dallas quickly stripped off his uniform, putting it into the plastic bag that had held it when it came back from the cleaners. “Mike’s recommendation is the station house, but somehow I don’t think you’ll go for that.”

Zack nodded. “A bit too risky. I could take them to the landfill.”

“Um, no? That would be almost as bad.”

“I’ll figure out something. Though I do like the symbolism of the dumpsters.”

“Yeah, me too,” Dallas agreed. “Maybe we can all start carrying hazmat suits with us.”

“I doubt the department would go for that,” Zack said, knotting his tie.

“It’s crooked,” Dallas told him.

Zack checked and fixed it.

“Try bowties?” Dallas suggested.

“I am not a bowtie type of guy.”

“Nope. You’re more the no-tie, turtleneck sort.”

Zack laughed. “I don’t think that goes with my image as a serious investment counselor. Which, at the moment, I wish I wasn’t,” he added when Dallas finished undressing.

“Me too. Right now.” Dallas stopped on his way to shower long enough to kiss him quite soundly. “But that’s life until my schedule changes. Then we’ll have all night together.”

“When does that happen?”

“With luck, next Monday, if the captain accepts our request. With Mike’s wife, Carol, expecting, he wants to be home with her at night.”