See Dick Run (5 page)

“Hang in there, Bubba. I swear help is on the way,” Kever whispered to his friend.

Chapter Five

Moira stood at her office’s French doors. The glint of the sun off the beveled glass created a prism in the room. She turned her head to study the varying displays of shadow and light. Moira could no longer deny it, someone was after her. She sighed. Why won’t folks just leave her alone? Now they’d only pissed her off. Attacking her was one thing, but to go after her friends made it personal, she liked Bubba. She dropped into the office chair behind her desk and snatched up the phone from her ancient desk blotter.

She quickly tapped the numbers on the screen and slid her finger over the icon. After a few moments the line connected. Moira didn’t have to wait long for someone to pick up. A male voice answered and she pulled the cell from her ear to check the number. She returned the phone to her ear. “Uh…hello. I’m looking for Violet.” Moira pursed her lips. Boy did Violet have some explaining to do.

“Hello?” Violet’s voice flowed over the line.

“Well, hello there. So who was that and since when do you let someone else answer your phone?” Moira laughed. “O-M-G! Violet, the Mayan’s had it wrong and the world is ending
this
year. You never, ever, ever let someone else answer your phone. Wait till I tell Pens.”

“Listen, it doesn’t have to go that far. Francis picked up my phone by accident.” Violet huffed.

“I bet. Apparently another conference call is in order cause you and Pens are being very mysterious lately. So, Francis, huh? Does this mean you decided which piece of man candy you will be nibbling come Valentine’s Day?”

“Shut up. This coming from the woman that in a moment of panic called from the bathroom to leave me a message that she had washing machine sex. Yes, I got the message and, no, I don’t want the details. I’m having a few issues of my own lately.”

“Oh, anything I can do to help? I can hop on a plane and be there in no time.” Moira leaned back in her chair, concern for her friend rushed through her.

“You have enough problems. Stop trying to run from them. My situation hasn’t gotten so serious that someone is taking shots at me. Plus, I don’t want whoever you pissed off following you here,” Violet joked. “I don’t need another case pending.”

Moira heard the smile in her bestie’s voice and decided to keep the car explosion to herself. “I need a favor.”

“What’s up?”

“I need the records to a couple of people I’m investigating.”

“Gimme a minute. Let me grab a pen.”

“I’ll take anything you can get on Mrs. Marks one, two and three. There is someone else I want to know about too. Her name is Alicia Newell. She’s a well-connected local down here and I think she was Dustin Marks’ next conquest. At least she was until he met his untimely demise.”

“I thought you closed this case with his death?” Violet questioned.

“Something’s not right, Vee. I can feel it in my gut. How soon can you get me the info?”

“Gimme forty-eight hours. Have you talked to P?”

“No, but I plan to call her. I think she has her hands full with the bakery right now since Valentine’s Day is so close.”

“Yeah…” Violet’s voice drifted off.

“Are you okay, Vee? The offer stands. I can be there tomorrow if you need me.” Moira increased the volume on her phone, trying to decipher the sounds in the background.

“Believe me, Moira, I will call you if I need you. It’s under control. I’ll get back to you in a couple of days.”

“All right.” Moira pressed the end button and wiped a hand down her face. What the hell was going on? She glanced out the door and into the horizon. It felt like somebody opened the gates to the asylum and let all the crazies out.

She rose from her seat and checked her pockets to make sure she had everything then grabbed her keys and helmet off the desk. Double checking everything before leaving her office, she tugged on the knob to her office’s front door one more time. Her keys jingled in her fist as she walked to her motorcycle. Holding the helmet by the face mask, it bumped her thigh with every step. She let her gaze roam over the machine as she approached it, looking for anything amiss. The Ducati gleamed in the dying light, reflecting the reds and oranges off its silver paint coat.

Her insurance company was not happy with her and actually threatened to drop her. This past car incident was the third one in as many years. She’d rather face her stalker than find another insurance company. She groaned at the thought. Instead of asking for a replacement car, she simply rolled her cycle out of the shed. Very few people even knew she had the Ducati and apparently that was a good thing. She threw a leg over the motorcycle and kicked up the stand. Glancing around her, she took everything in before settling the helmet over her head and limiting her vision.

She pushed the start button and twisted her wrist to throttle the bike. The engine roared to life and earned her a few curious looks. Moira shifted into drive with a flex of her ankle and blended into traffic. She had no urge to go home. For the first time since moving to Baton Rouge, she felt restless and lonely. The CSI crew had scrutinized her home, taking samples of everything in her front yard, including a couple blades of grass. For the first time in a long while her home didn’t feel like a home.

Whoever was after her had skills. She certainly had to give the person that. She still wasn’t convinced it was Dustin returned from his watery grave. He would have to be a trained assassin to pull off these attacks. Dustin was a murderer, of that she was sure, but he played in poisons and used his boyish charms to seduce wealthy women. He wouldn’t know which way to hold a weapon or where to plant a bomb. No, this was the work of someone else. If only she could figure out who. She’d spent days going through her cases, past and present, and the paper trail led back to Dustin Marks.

Brisk wind buffeted her as she focused on the white lines that dissected the road. The twenty-four hour protection disappeared. She knew they were still there, just better hidden. She also hadn’t seen Kever in as many days either. He didn’t bother to call her and although she hated to admit it, it bothered her. The hospital loomed to her right as she rolled past it. On a whim, she turned at the stop sign and sped up toward the parking garage. She’d called the reception to get updates on Bubba and knew he was in intensive care with burns on over sixty percent of his body. Mainly on his back and legs. She didn’t visit for fear of running into Kever. Moira snorted as she parked the bike in an indiscreet spot on the second floor. It would seem, as of late, conflicted was her middle name.

She eased back on the leather seat. It was situations like these when she needed Pen’s level head and Violet’s in-your-face attitude. Reaching up, she unlatched her helmet and lifted it off her head. From her perch she could view the tops of the street lights as they began popping on one by one. Sliding off the bike, she took a deep breath. She rubbed a hand along her back, grazed her gun with her fingertips and stalked toward the elevator.

***

When his cell phone rang, Kever halted his conversation with Bubba’s doctors and excused himself. He checked the caller ID before answering and tapped back the disappointment that it wasn’t Moira calling him. Between hospital visits and paperwork as well as trying to figure out where exactly Dustin was hiding, he hadn’t made time to call her. If he was honest with himself it probably had more to do with the fact that he had no clue what to say to her.

He listened to the desk sergeant as he explained all the reasons why the surveillance team somehow lost Moira.

“I want to make sure I understand what you’re telling me. She was on a motorcycle weaving in and out of traffic and that’s how the guys lost her?” Kever rolled his shoulders and felt the pull of the butterfly bandage.

“Yes. That’s how their report was expressed to me.” The sergeant calmly continued.

“So, um, what are you doing about finding her?” Kever struggled to keep his temper in check.

“We have men staked out at her home. That’s all we can do.”

Kever yelled. “That is not all you can do. Fucking find her now and I don’t care what you have to do to make that happen!” Hospital staff openly stared at his display of anger.

“We have a limited budget—”

Kever hung up and swung his hand at the wall. His knuckles throbbed where his fist connected with the barrier. A few nurses hurried by, taking curious glances as they passed him. He wiped a plam over his mouth and thought hard about where she could go. She’d practically been living at her office for the past few days according to the cops watching her. He’d start there. Maybe she doubled back and simply passed the surveillance team. Kever trotted to the elevator.

In his haste he pressed the button a couple of times. When the elevator didn’t arrive, he turned, headed toward the stairwell. The ding of the elevator finally arriving to his floor made him turn around. His steps hesitated as the doors slowly opened and he found himself staring at the lone occupant. Moira looked up and he met those soft milk chocolate eyes, his heart beat sped up and he hastily returned to elevator, moving to crowd her back into the cab so she couldn’t step over the threshold.

“What the hell, Kever?” She sidestepped him.

“Where the hell have you been?” The steel doors closing were whisper soft, he placed his fists on his hips and stared down at her.

“Excuse me. I came to visit Bubba, not get manhandled and put to an inquisition.” She crossed her arms under her bust.

He narrowed his eyes. “I had no idea you could be so dense. You are the target of a serial killer and maybe you don’t care what happens, but I damn well do.”

She blew out a breath. “A dead alleged killer. Seriously, Kever, you sound like one of those old men proclaiming the end of the world. Furthermore, you’re wrong. Dustin may have had skills with a needle, but the attempts on my life go way past what he was good at.”

Tones went off around them. Kever glanced over his shoulder at the array of buttons on the side panel. Suddenly, the door opened automatically and he twisted to see various people waiting to enter the cab. Plastering a smile on his face, he turned and positioned himself in the center of the threshold then flashed his badge, pulling it from underneath his shirt. “Sorry, folks, police business.” He stabbed the first floor button and waited for a moment until they were alone again. The elevator shuddered as it moved, behind him he heard Moira snicker.

“What are you going to do, Kever? I won’t willingly be put in a bubble. You can’t keep me safe all the time.”

He swung around and met her gaze. “God, I’d love to turn you over my knee.” The cab bobbed as he stomped the few feet to stand in front of her. He raised his hand and wrapped it around the back of her neck, and then leaning in he pressed his lips to hers. She laid her hands on his chest and pushed him away. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and smiled at the way she panted for breath. “You need a keeper, Moira, and damn if I ain’t stepping up for the job.”

“It will be interesting to watch you try,” she mumbled.

The ding of the elevator told him they’d arrived at their floor. He skimmed his hand down her arm and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Kever stepped out the cab and glanced around him before tugging her over the threshold. He moved quickly, checking behind them occasionally. They reached the revolving doors, amber rays poured through the glass as the sun slowly sunk behind the buildings.

“Where did you park the bike?” Kever asked.

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes.

“I need to tell the guys where to pick it up.”

“I am not leaving my Ducati for any old body to ride.”

“Either you tell me where it is or it’ll sit there until kingdom come.” Kever’s accent thickened—a sign of his growing annoyance.

Moira sighed. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit? Nothing has happened for the last few days.”

“Why don’t you take your life more seriously?” He turned his head to stare at her.

“Fine, my cycle is on the second floor tucked between two yellow pylons a few feet from the stairwell in the shadows. Are you satisfied now?”

“Very much so.” He pushed through the revolving doors, dragging her with him.

“Now where the hell are you taking me?” Cool air whipped around her as they exited the building and she shivered.

“Some place safe.” He hurried her down the walkway.

Moira reared back. The soles of her boots scraped the concrete and she tried to yank her arm free. “I won’t take another step until you tell me exactly where we are going.”

“You don’t have to.” Kever back tracked his steps and gripped her by the waist hefting her up and over his shoulder. “Make one sound, Moira, and I swear you won’t be able to sit for a week.” His voice was low so only she could hear him. He chuckled when she didn’t respond.

Chapter Six

Moira watched the shadows of ancient cypress trees as they zoomed by. A half-moon hung low in the sky and sparkling white dots surrounded it. The Chevy SS Camaro ate up the miles on the old two-lane highway. She turned her head to glance at the polished dashboard. Moira pressed her hands into the supple leather of the bucket seat to push herself up. Her gaze was drawn to Kever’s hand resting on the knob of the stick shift. She bit her lip and swallowed the questions she was dying to ask. This was the third car she’d seen him with. Where did he get them all? There was no way this Camaro was city issued. When he’d tossed her into the front seat in the hospital parking lot, she had noticed a duffle bag in the backseat. Had he been planning to kidnap her all along? Moira watched as he downshifted, his hand sliding over the stick like he was caressing a lover. The engine idled down as the car slowed to a stop. She looked up and caught sight of a gator crossing the road in the head lights.

“How long do you plan on giving me the silent treatment, Cher?” He slid the car into gear. The car roared to life as it picked up speed.

“Where are we going, Kever?” Moira rubbed her temple to ease the ache that was starting there.