Redemption (7 page)

“I’ll let you walk away with your life if you give me the cash right now,” Justice bargained.

“I honestly don’t have a clue where that idiot Geneti stashed it,” Ford repeated, resignation in his voice.

“So Ben is going to sit up on his hill in Sonoma County and drink his wine and eat his flesh while he shoots his guns?”

“It looks like you’ve got an insider trying to broker a deal with him. Seems they know where the cash is, and wants to swap for a gun delivery to your clubhouse.”

St. John bit his lip. He wanted to divert the conversation, but knew it would be a direct admission of his being a cop.

“Who, Ted?” Justice roared.

He grabbed Ford by the face. Four fingers and a thumb embedded deep into facial flesh. Justice looked to be losing his temper.

“Don’t know. I thought one of my agents knew. Jeff Graham claimed he didn’t but I knew better. That’s why I had him ambushed in the desert. Gave him to my son to interrogate, but he wouldn’t break. I think Ben ate him.”

St. John stepped closer, “What about—”

St. John looked up from pinching the tears back into his eyes to find Justice scowling straight at him.

“About what?” Hate seethed from the question.

St. John wanted to ask about Dr. Worthington’s involvement. He had a score to settle if she was dirty, but asking would leave no doubt of his double duty.

Fuck it, he knows.

St. John bent over the bed and secured both pistols—just in case.

“Ted, is that all?” Justice asked.

“Yes. Now please free me.”

“Free? You’re not going to go free. You were very helpful though.”

St. John’s mind raced. Justice no longer referred to the man as Ted. He’d stopped using his name altogether which meant Ford was about to die. What should he do? How could a United States federal undercover agent stand by and allow another cop to be murdered? But after Ford’s confession that he was the one who’d killed St. John’s friend and former partner, or allowed it to be done, Agent Jeff Graham deserved retribution somehow.

Ford’s obese body bounced. “But I thought you said—”

“No, you’re mistaken,” Justice said. His eyes cut up to St. John. He lifted the pistol.

St. John turned his head and walked out of the room.

Justice’s words followed him. “I knew you couldn’t bear to watch a brother cop die.”

A
bigail zipped the
Glock 9mm from the nightstand, her arm straight and hand steady. She’d become much more comfortable with the weapon since the first time she pulled it on St. John at Ellie’s Outpost. As evidenced by her planting three rounds into Rage’s head, she also wasn’t hesitant to pull the trigger.

“Get the fuck out,” she said, her lips pressed to a tight line.

Voodoo froze—about three feet from the barrel—her green eyes popped wide. Lawless cautiously stepped in front of his partner.

“I’m not one of the Savages. I’m a cop.” His hands raised about chest high, “I’m sorry to say they’re my blood brothers, but that’s it.”

Abigail bit her upper lip, as she tried to decide whether to trust him. She stepped back three paces. Not a retreat, but a safe distance. She planted her bare feet shoulder width apart and squared her shoulders. Although she was as nervous as jelly on the inside, she exuded confidence. She swished her thighs real quick to dismiss the post-orgasm tingles that still pulsed below.

Abigail looked past him. Voodoo nodded. She lowered the weapon. Lawless stepped forward, and reached for her phone. Adrenaline flared, firing up Abigail’s brain to act. She squared the weapon mere inches from his broad chest. They both froze. Her senses were so heightened, she could’ve heard Lawless’ muscles flex for the gun. She had no doubt her trigger finger would be faster.

“Back off.” she raised her voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I was just powering down your cell phone. The Savages have been monitoring all comms, and I’m sure they’re more than interested to know what you’re up to.” Lawless sighed. His big thumb mashed the button until it deactivated. He removed the battery and tossed both pieces on the bed.

Abigail’s eyes cut to the bed as Lawless leaned to sit. She thought about the orgasm and wondered if he could smell her sex. If he was anything like his kin, he’d know soon.

“You had company?” he asked with a sly shit-eating grin.

She chewed the skin just below a fingernail to conceal a smirk. “No, why?”

“Honey, then what the hell you been doing in here all alone?” Voodoo took an aggressive tone. Her body, although short, leaned forward as her head bobbed slightly.

Ha, this bitch is jealous. I guess all of the Boudreaux boys want a piece of me. Except Fury. Poor bastard.

“Hold on, honey. I’ve got enough of the Boudreaux curse. Don’t need it from him or you,” Abigail said. Her wispy body towered over Voodoo’s, but both women’s attitudes braced like gnarled predators.

Abigail flipped her fingers as if to brush away the confrontation. She leaned against the wall closest to the bathroom. Exhaling, she rubbed the back of her neck without making eye contact with either of them. She regretted agreeing to meet them.

“I did this for James, so lets get on with it before I change my mind.” Her chest tightened. She pressed her palm in circles against it. “Have y’all heard from him lately?”

“No. We thought he’d drop by once we arrived,” Lawless said.

Her hand covered her snort. “Drop by? From Las Vegas? I don’t think so.” Their eyes met—they hadn’t a clue. She slipped her right hand behind her back—the Glock was ready.

“Baby, I see your gun in the mirror. You want to pull it out, then pull it out. We only know where St. John is when he tells us,” Voodoo said. “What in the world is he doing back in Vegas?”

“No idea. Justice only gives him a short heads up on everything. But what we gonna do about this Gray Man? He’s itching to do this deal.”

Lawless sat forward and pressed his palms into his thighs. “We ain’t gonna do shit. The Task Force will handle it. Just give us the information and we’ll take it from here.” He hauled his big body off the cozy, cum-perfumed comforter. “We’ll have to figure a way to get marked money. Gray Man sure as hell will want proof.”

“You mean y’all still haven’t found the money Ricky stole?”

Voodoo’s hands fluttered like a bird through the air. “Honey, not a clue. That shit has long been laundered.”

Jaw set to hide her surprise at the good news, Abigail deliberately lowered her head to study the situation. These agents didn’t have a clue. Regardless of what St. John had told her about working with these two cops, he never actually said he’d trusted them completely. No wonder they didn’t know he was back in Vegas. He also hadn’t told them she knew where the cash was stashed.

Abigail brushed her bangs away from her eyes. She exhaled. “This ain’t my game. You two are the hotshot federal agents. So tell me, what’s it going to be?” She cocked her hip and drew Voodoo’s glare.

“Lets cut the shit. St. John said you were in deep with Gray Man, and could draw him out for an exchange. If you can, lets do it. If not, we’ll leave you to go back to whatever the hell you were up to,” Voodoo said.

“Tell me what you know about Gray Man,” Abigail said to Lawless.

He stalled, his lips stretching wide in a grimace. He looked to Voodoo. Her arms were crossed so tight against her breasts it was a miracle she was able to breathe. He padded around the room—hand fidgeted with the doorknob. She finally nodded.

“All we know is he’s a killer. I don’t mean a random murderer. He’s a serial killer who preys upon cops. Not long ago we found a CHP outside Sonoma County,” Lawless said. His finger ran along the bottom of the thick window blind. He quick peeked across the parking lot. “California Highway Patrolman Charles ‘Chip’ Diego was in his crashed cruiser. He’d been killed and raped post-mortem. That’s Gray Man’s MO—kill, rape and devour.”

“Just like he did to Jeff Graham,” Abigail whispered.

Voodoo took a giant step forward, stopping inches from Abigail, her expression empty but angry. “How do you know Graham?”

Abigail’s throat closed—she’d said too much. Hands clasped as in prayer, she rested her narrow jaw atop them. Maybe she should just say fuck it and let it all out. She’d seen three of the six blood brothers’ lives come to tragic ends. She was especially pleased about Vengeance’s murder since he was the only Savage she knew for sure was on the highway the day they killed her son.

Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms, and shook her. Voodoo’s face was painted in rage. “I asked you a fucking question, bitch. It was our ass alone in that desert. We carried Graham all the way back to the ER. It’s my fault he’s dead. But you ain’t gonna stand here like some patron saint of dick sucking and decide whether or not to cooperate.”

Abigail tried to shake free of her, but Voodoo was just too powerful. Her eyes filled with tears. Her mind raced with images like a hell-bound carousel. The old feelings of helplessness, of being physically overpowered, hauled her memories over razor-sharp thoughts of Ricky Geneti.

“You killed Jack,” she screamed. Veins exploded across her temples and forehead. Her vision went red. Abigail trembled as her frail fists beat at Voodoo but hit only empty air. Her weight caved on quivering knees and Voodoo helped her to the floor.

Lawless knelt besides the two women. He grabbed the Glock from the dresser drawer and slid it in his waistband. “Abi, what are you talking about. We didn’t kill anyone.”

“Don’t fucking call me Abi,” she cried. “You don’t know me. You killed my son with your stupid games of cat and mouse. I can’t trust any of you.”

“
May cha
, what are you talking about? Let us help you.” Voodoo stroked the back of her head and spoke in a soothing Cajun dialect.

“How you going to bring my baby back from the grave? You all think you’re gods. Playing with people’s lives like you possess them. Maybe I went after the wrong group of crooks.”

Lawless tugged at her shoulder so she’d sit up. “Abigail, please listen closely. A man we trust, and you trust, asked us to come here and meet with you. We really know nothing other than St. John asked us to help. If you want us to go, we’ll go. It’s your call.”

Lightheaded, Abigail scrubbed her forearm beneath her nose. Mucus trailed between both. Embarrassed, she gave a tentative smile. “I must look a mess.” She straightened her back and rolled both shoulders like a boxer in the ring. “Geneti was my baby’s father. He abandoned us the second I told him I was pregnant. I raised Jack on my own for three years. We were happy. Then, Ricky showed up and stole him. That’s when the Savage Souls paid Ricky back for ripping them off on the gun deal.”

Abigail brushed the lingering tears from beneath her eyes. Trembling lips fought for a smile. “Instead of ending it all, I wanted revenge—kill the Savages who killed my son. I took all of the shit in Ricky’s computer. It told about the deal. He had notes on where the money was stashed, where the guns came from and where they were going. Not many names but I figured out who most of the players were.”

Voodoo’s eyes brightened. “Do the Savages know you have this information?” Her hand stayed planted firmly on Abigail’s shoulder as they all sat in a small huddle on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“One knew that I knew of—Rage. He kidnapped me from the hospital and drug me into nowhere. He knew most of it, but not all. He was going to kill me.” Death’s cold fingers snaked back up her spine and she quivered at the memory of that horrible night.

“What happened?” Lawless asked.

“I killed him,” she stated flatly.

“Oh.” He averted his eyes.

“Your brother. Oh my God, I’m sorry.” She clasped his hands.

“It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing. They chose the outlaw life.”

Voodoo gently rubbed Lawless’ shoulder. Abigail picked up on the fact that they were more than partners. She eased her hands away from Lawless.

“Brings me to right now. I figured out who had the guns and emailed him. Realized it was Gray Man. Didn’t know he was a serial killer until St. John told me he watched him torture Graham at his compound in Sonoma County.”

“What the fuck?” Voodoo barked. Lawless wrapped his long arm around her. Her face contorted with grief.

“You didn’t know? You feds have got to quit keeping secrets from each other,” Abigail said. “St. John stopped me from setting up a deal. It would’ve planted the guns on the Savage’s property. I thought I’d call the cops and they’d find the stolen guns. Simple, right?” Her hands lifted in a mock sign of surrender.

“You’d be dead right now.” Lawless whispered. He leaned his cheek against the top of Voodoo’s head.

“I know. Honestly, I never expected to come out of this alive. Killing Savages was my only plan.”

“What changed?” Voodoo asked softly.

“St. John.”

“Poor guy’s already lost so much and, still, he keeps fighting behind the lines to save us. What thanks does he get? I accuse him of crossing over to the other side,” Lawless said.

“You’re right. He trusted me with his real identity, although I recognized him anyway from his football days at Florida and the NFL.”