Trained To Kill (6 page)

Captain Williams would pull him from
undercover. Alex was actually glad of it. He needed a break; a
break from the dark and the pain and misery of the streets littered
with the empty bags and needles of users and pushers.

Street walkers giving it away for free
for one more hit. More than once one had offered him whatever he
wanted for some Dust. This last cover he had been more of a thug
and gopher than a dealer. The beatings and the violence he could
handle better than the utter hopelessness on the faces of the
junkies and crack whores he had to wade through.

He really needed a break. Having his
cover blown was a blessing in disguise. It was liberating walking
up to people and showing them his badge.

He continued driving aimlessly for
awhile. This was his thinking place. He knew these streets so well.
He had run around on them as a kid with his friends and brothers.
Then going under, he knew all the backdoors and back
alleys.

He watched the streets and people
going with the rhythm of the stops and starts and traffic flow
letting all his thoughts swirl around and stew in the back of his
head until an idea popped out. All that popped out now was
Isa.

He wanted to be back there in her warm
apartment talking and listening to her odd accent, not entirely
unlike her housekeeper’s but nowhere as thick. Was that a southern
thing, he wondered. He hadn’t been further south than
Philadelphia.

He liked to stick close to home. He
wanted to be near her again and not talk about the case. He knew
that wouldn’t be possible for now. The case was the thing. The job
came first. But he badly wanted to hear her talk about her life and
her past.

He was dying to know what had happened
that night at the La Beau Chateau in New Orleans. He wasn’t after
the salacious details for gossip; he wanted to know how she had
survived and if the papers had got it right.

There hadn’t been a cop in the country
that hadn’t been talking about that story the day after. The most
notorious and profitable criminal in the United State’s Southern
Hemisphere had been killed by his teenage daughter.

After seeing her moves in the dojo, he
knew a little better than before. She had fought like hell to
survive. He recognized a strength in her…and a sadness.

One he was deeply attracted to and
wanted to explore more thoroughly. He wasn’t oblivious to his
effect on women and often utilized that effect for work. Women had
a thing for a bad boy, some things were cliché for a reason, and
Alex wasn’t putting on a show. His tattoos and scars were real
after all. And he still had an infamous temper. He could control it
now, unless he was pushed too far.

Chapter 10

Isa closed the door to her office.
Renée was wonderful but she could be too nosy for own good. Alex
had followed her and gone into the dojo when she had left. Was that
strictly police surveillance, or something more personal? Her
thoughts were interrupted by her email chime. She checked it and
saw Ricky had finally gotten in touch.

Beau-need to hide, can you get me
outta town? Shit’s going down. You shoulda stayed away.

-R

What the hell? Did someone run Ricky
off because of her? What had he told her about the last time? Or
was it about Malone and The Inferno?

She thought back, pacing from her
window to her desk. What was it? Something about a guy hanging
around The Inferno that shouldn’t have been. But it hadn’t been
Malone.

She tried to remember the name Ricky
had said. Well shit. She was getting rusty. She couldn’t think of
the name or if Ricky had even said it.

She emailed Ricky back saying she
would help him, and then tried his phone again. Turned off. She
paced some more. She didn’t know these New York streets. She didn’t
know where to go looking for him. That’s why she had Ricky to tell
her what was going on while she was gone. She paced some more and
cursed under her breath. Alex.

Alex was the logical choice. He knew
the streets, the people, and this more than likely connected to his
case. Now she just needed to convince him to take her
along.

She picked up her cell phone to dial
Alex. It was late but she wasn’t aware. She usually worked on her
own schedule.

No answer. Well, she would go over to
his house and wait for him then.

The drive over to his apartment was
uneventful. She had memorized his address when researching him and
his case file. She knocked on the door and waited. No answer. She
let herself in with her ‘skeleton key’ as she liked to think of it,
but really it was just a lock pick.

She always felt a small, secret thrill
when she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. Looking around Alex’s
apartment gave her a better insight into the man
himself.

Definitely small, it gave her flat in
Chelsea a run for its money, but cozy. The bedroom and living room
were one and the same. The kitchen was an L off to the left with
just enough space for the appliances and a yard of counter space. A
punching bag on a base stand stood in the corner.

Pictures of his family on the walls
caught her eye. They looked happy. She felt a small twinge of envy
staring at their smiling faces. Although she knew better than
anyone, not everything is what it looks like in photographs. She
hoped they were as happy as their photographs depicted. There were
other shots scattered around, stuck to the fridge. Alex with cops
at the Academy. Alex with his Marine friends. It didn’t look like
there was a girlfriend though. Isa felt an entirely different kind
of twinge at that thought.

The bathroom was next to the kitchen
and held little more than a towel and the bare essentials. His bed
was covered in a navy comforter, unmade. He had a laptop and some
work files spread out over a thin table pushed against the wall.
From the looks of it, he used it for work and eating.

She liked the place. There were books
stacked on the nightstand. Library books she saw after a quick
glance. Most of them mysteries. She smiled. He was a cop down to
the bones.

She heard the lock turn and she sat
down in the armchair by the bed, staying still. She didn’t want him
to accidentally shoot her.

Alex entered with his gun out;
evidently he had seen her moving around through the curtains. Damn,
she thought. I didn’t know he was there.

Isa held her hands up and watched him
spot her. It didn’t take long. He holstered his gun quickly when he
saw it was her and flicked on the light.

“
What the hell are you
doing in here?” he asked incredulously.

Isa shrugged, “I needed to talk to
you. You weren’t home.”

“
So you thought breaking
in was a logical choice?”

“
Logical? No,” Isa smiled.
“Interesting? Yes.”

“
Interesting?”

“
Sure. Don’t you find it
interesting when you go through strangers’ houses?”

“
You went through my
things?”

“
Well no, I didn’t open
drawers or anything.”

Alex was standing with his arms
crossed and his legs wide. He made a disgusted sound and took off
his coat and threw it on the bed. He had on a black Henley, dark
jeans and black boots. His stubble was now at four days, and would
most likely turn into a beard in another couple of days. Isa was
growing fonder of him by the hour.

“
You wanna tell me how you
know where I live, and how you got in here?”

Isa studied his eyes for a moment, and
decided he wasn’t angry. She took off her coat and threw it over
his on the bed. He remained standing.

“
I have certain skills,”
she began.

“
What skills exactly,” he
asked not putting up with her vagueness.

“
Let’s just say I was to
tell you. What would you do with that information?”

“
Depends,” he crossed his
arms over his chest again. “Is it illegal?”

When Isa said nothing he cursed and
went to sit down at his desk. “Tell me?” he asked
softly.

Isa blinked at the change in his tone
and did some mental thrashing.

“
I’m very skilled with
computers,” she finally relented.

“
You’re a
hacker?”

Isa said nothing again, just sat
quietly looking at him. Alex tapped his fingers on his
desk.

“
Fine we’ll drop that for
now,” he said curtly. “Why did you come here?”

Isa got up and started pacing. She had
decided how much to tell him on the way over but getting started
was the tricky part.

“
You know who my
stepfather was.” Alex nodded. “When I was growing up he procured a
lot of…tutors… to teach me things.”

“
What kinds of
things?”

“
All kinds. Computers,
security, weapons, martial arts,” she paused to gauge is reaction.
She saw nothing. He had on his cop face now, the one all cops had:
polite and vaguely curious with a hint of suspicion. She started to
get a little nervous. “He also taught me about being cautious and
prepared for anything. Which is the reason I have an…informant, if
you will. He keeps me apprised of anything happening around my
neighborhood and businesses.”

“
You have a weasel?” he
asked, slightly amazed.

“
Yes.”

Alex said nothing more, watching her
pace like a caged animal in his tiny apartment. “His name is Ricky
Evans. He sent me this email today.”

She handed him her phone with the
message pulled up. Alex read it quickly and looked up at
her.

“
You think he knows
something about Malone?”

“
Possibly.” She sat down
on the edge of the bed directly across from him. Their knees could
have touched if he turned around in his chair. “I need you to help
me find him,” she continued. “I don’t know New York. You do. And
you know the kind of people he knows from your work.” She spoke
with an earnestness that she hoped would show him how serious she
was.

Alex handed back her phone and
pondered for a minute. He couldn’t quite get passed the thought of
her sitting on his bed so he needed a minute to push it
aside.

She was in jeans and boots again, with
a too-large, dark-blue, Aztec patterned sweater that set off her
milky skin. Her blonde hair pulled back on the sides left her face
unframed and beautiful. She wore no makeup, no jewelry. She kept
quiet while watching him struggle. He rose from his chair, now it
was his turn to pace.

“
If he doesn’t know
anything about Malone I would be spending time and effort on a
Missing Persons case. That’s not my department. That email said
nothing about The Inferno or Malone.”

“
Alright. I understand.”
She looked dejected. “I’ll just go out alone, in the cold, in the
middle of the night. Alone,” she said again for emphasis. “On
streets I don’t know.”

He gave her a mild stare. “You think
you’re appealing to my chivalrous side?” he rumbled low in his
chest. “You just told me you were trained in weapons and martial
arts, and I saw you throw a man twice your size like a sack of
flour earlier today.” He waited for her to indignation at being
followed after he let it slip. But she simply raised an
eyebrow.

“
You’re not surprised?” he
asked warily.

“
Why should I be? I knew
you were there.” She gathered up her jacket, “Come on,” she said,
“let’s just ride around and look. If we don’t see anything in an
hour we’ll call it quits.”

Alex was shocked. She had known? He
was good. He was very good at tailing and blending in to the
background.

“
Hang on,” he said putting
an arm out to stop her forward momentum. Her waist bumped into his
arm and he lost his though process. He wanted to curl his arm
around that waist and pull her up against him. The urge was so
strong he had to take two steps back, quickly.

She paused in the middle of putting on
her jacket. “Are you ok?”

“
Fine,” he said shortly.
“Give me a minute.” He had forgotten about asking her how she had
known he was there, needing to get out of the room for a
minute.

Great, she probably thought he was
incompetent at his job and a weirdo for recoiling after barely
touching her. He shook his head and slapped his face. He needed to
get a grip. He had never been this awkward with a woman before. He
came out two minutes later.

“
I’ll look with you now
but I’m not making it official yet.”

“
Fine by me,” Isa said and
headed out the door.

They stood next to her car arguing for
a good five minutes.

“
We can’t take you car,”
Alex explained patiently. “Someone will try to Jack us at the first
red light where we’re going.”

“
Well we can’t take your
car, it practical screams cop car.”

They turned to look at his crap car
and then back at her red Mustang.

“
Rock, paper, scissors,”
Alex said holding out a fist.