Wise Moves (5 page)

He studied her. “I was in the army. Headed up a recon unit in the Middle East.” He laughed. “But I wasn’t good at it. Kept getting lost and I never was much good at taking orders. I’m good with my hands so figured I’d try carpentry.”

Outside, a car door slammed. Kristen started. On reflex she looked out the side window at the house next door. It was the neighbor—Mrs. McKenzie.

“That your boyfriend?” he said.

“No.”

“Right, he comes at five.”

She changed the subject. “We made great progress today.”

“Sure did.”

An odd silence settled between them and she thought he’d offer her the money he owed her for today’s work. However, he didn’t. There’d been a time when she’d not have given it a second thought. Forty-five dollars was a small fortune now. “About my money…”

“Right.” He carefully set the mug on the receptionist desk and then counted out the money and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed and her body tensed.

She quickly counted it again and shoved it in her pocket. “Thanks.”

He picked up the mug by the handle. “So, I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

“What time?”

“Seven too early? If we can get in a full day, then I’ve got a chance of finishing this job up a couple of days early.”

“Sure, seven is good. I’m up early.”
I’m up early.
The thought made her smile.

“Did I miss something?”

“No. It’s just that when I was younger, my day never started before noon.”

“So, did you work nights or were you just rich?”

Kristen realized her mistake. Her guard had slipped. Staying alive had meant keeping conversations about her to a minimum. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me, but I won’t press it. We all got a right to our privacy.”

“Thanks.”

He left through the front door and moved easily down the front steps. He climbed into his truck.

She closed and locked the front door.

Dane leaned out the open door of his van and poured the water out of the mug. Carefully, he lowered the mug into a plastic bag and zipped it closed. Soon he’d know if Kristen was Elena.

A
fter Dane left Kristen in the yoga studio, he pulled his van around the corner and parked in the municipal parking lot.

Lucian Moss, who was waiting for Dane in his blue pickup truck, got out and started toward the small coffee shop, as they’d agreed earlier. He wore a black AC/DC T-shirt. Moss went into the café and ordered a cup of coffee.

Cambia picked up Kristen’s mug in the plastic bag and climbed out of his van. Glancing from left to right, he made sure no one was watching and then crossed the street and entered the shop. He ordered coffee and sat down across from Moss.

“You’re late,” Moss said.

Cambia glanced around the shop and then handed the mug to Lucian. “It couldn’t be helped.” He slid the Baggie across the table.

Moss tucked the mug in his bag. “So what is she like?”

Cambia sipped his coffee. “The last thing I expected.”

Moss’s gaze sharpened. “Do you think we have the wrong one?”

Dane considered the question. There were only hints of the princess who’d spent most of her twenty-five years on the Miami beaches and in exclusive clubs. But it was her. “No.”

“Excellent.”

“She’s very different.”

“Nine months on the run can change anybody.”

Dane had a sense of what she’d endured on the streets, but couldn’t imagine how she’d dealt with it. “Once you’ve run the prints and we have a confirmation, then we’ll move forward.”

“Why not start now?” Moss’s gaze was lean and hungry.

Knowing they’d found Elena should have made Dane happy—did make him happy. When they caught Benito they’d not only dispose of a cold-blooded killer, but they’d put a major dent in the south Florida drug-trafficking trade.

Despite all that could be gained, a part of him was also very sorry. He liked “Kristen.” To his surprise,
she’d
gotten under his skin. “I want to be sure. Only then do we set the trap.”

Thursday, May 17, 6:55 a.m.

S
ince her escape from the safe house, it had become Kristen’s habit to rise before the sun. In her old life, she’d only seen the sunrise when she’d been coming home from a club or party. Then dawn’s red glowing rays signaled an ending. Now, it represented new beginnings.

She sat in the half-lotus position on her yoga mat in the center of Sheridan’s studio. The lights were dim and she’d put on a calming CD. In the beginning, she felt a little silly sitting here like this, but Sheridan had insisted it would help her focus and concentrate.

Her work with Cambia yesterday had left her body stiff, and her muscles ached. But the discomfort didn’t bother her. As hard as life had been this last year, there was satisfaction. Despite all odds, she was surviving, even prevailing.

Kristen turned to the right, gently twisting the tightness from her back. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.

But instead, the sense of well-being faded. Dark thoughts from the past crept into her mind. She tried to push them aside but they grew stronger, pulling her back to the past.

Sitting in the limo’s plush interior across from her brother, Elena clenched her hands in tight fists. Tinted windows prevented her from seeing outside. But judging by the roughness of the road, the car had turned off the main highway onto a side street.

Antonio had insisted she dress tonight in something bright and cheerful. Instead, she’d chosen a severe black dress which, combined with her long black hair, made her look pale.

The scent of Antonio’s aftershave blended with the smoke of his Cuban cigar. He wore a white hand-made suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly. Gold links winked from white linen cuffs. His dark hair, peppered with gray at the temples, was slicked back. “I’m not happy with you, Elena. That dress is unsuitable.”

His soft accent didn’t disguise the steel beneath the words.

Elena did not care what Antonio thought anymore. She wore black because she was in mourning for the man she’d loved and lost. “You were responsible for the car accident that killed Carlos.”

He puffed on his cigar and stared at her through the trail of smoke curling around his face. “He was not suitable.”

To have her fears confirmed made her sick. “So you did kill him?”

“Yes.”

“My God,” she whispered.

Antonio had forbidden her to see Carlos, which had only solidified her determination to see him. A week ago she and Carlos had planned to run away. A day later his car had plunged off a bridge and he’d been killed.

“In time you will thank me,” he said. “You are above the rest of the world. You are special. Your place is at my side and when the time is right I will choose a husband for you.”

Unshed tears burned the back of her throat, but she refused to let them spill.

As if on cue, the car stopped. “Time for our lesson.”

Elena could feel her resolve fraying. “Where are we?”

The door to the limo opened. Antonio got out and then held his hand out to her. His manicured nails caught the moonlight.

Elena didn’t accept his hand but climbed out of the car unassisted. Anger glimmered in Antonio’s dark eyes but he let the small act of defiance go.

Elena looked around and realized they were in the warehouse district. Before them stood three of Antonio’s muscled men standing in front of a gray tobacco warehouse. They wore white linen suits, bright shirts and gun holsters they made no move to hide.

Elena had suspected Antonio was a criminal since she was a teenager, but he’d always kept that part of his life separate from her.

He guided her to the open warehouse door. She was aware only of the pounding of her heart and the click of her heels against the damp concrete.

The instant they entered the warehouse, she saw the six men. They kneeled in a neat row, hands tied behind their back. Their weathered faces bruised and tight with fear.

Antonio snapped his fingers and one of the men handed him a gun. He looked at her, his eyes cold and black. “These men disobeyed me, Elena. And now you will see what happens to people who defy me.”

Antonio fired his gun and killed the first man.

Kristen jumped, realizing the loud sound she’d heard wasn’t gunfire from the past. Someone was pounding on her front door.

She glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall across from her. Six-ten. Cambia would not be here for at least another hour. No one should be here.

Her heart hammering, she rose and moved barefooted to the front door. A fine sheen of sweat dampened her back and she realized her hands were shaking. She shoved out a breath and tried to calm her thoughts.

Thick blinds covered the glass front door, making it impossible for her to see who was on the other side. Instinct told her not to answer.

The someone on the other side pounded harder. “Hey, Sheridan, it’s me, Crystal. Let me in.”

Crystal. The young girl Sheridan head mentioned.

“Come on, Sheridan, I can hear your yoga tape in there. Please open up. Tony is coming.” Desperation dripped from the last word.

Kristen peeked around the edge of the curtain. A girl stood there. Shoulder-length black hair accentuated thickly made-up green eyes. She sported three earrings in each ear and a purple bruise on her cheek.

Kristen smoothed a damp hand down her yoga pants. Crystal was clearly in trouble. There’d been so many times when she’d wished someone would have reached out a hand and saved her.

Drawing in a deep breath, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door until the chain caught.

Crystal’s gaze locked with Kristen’s. “Please, lady, let me in.”

In the distance she heard a squeal of wheels on pavement. Seconds later a red Cutlass Supreme came around the corner.

Crystal’s face turned pale. “He’s here.”

Kristen watched as the car skidded to a stop in front of the building. In the front seat she could see a young man with tattoos on his neck and arms glaring at Crystal.

“Please, lady, please,” Crystal begged.

Kristen unhooked the chain, grabbed the girl by the arm and pulled her in just as Tony bounded up the stairs to the studio.

Kristen shoved the door closed only to have Tony block it with his booted foot. He wrapped his ringed fingers around the door and began to shove against it. Kristen could feel Crystal clinging to her and she struggled to keep the door closed. But Tony was stronger than her. He pushed the door open.

Kristen, with Crystal behind her, stumbled back. She regained her footing, planted her feet on the ground and blocked his path to Crystal.

Kristen’s memory flashed to a time when Antonio had lost his temper with her. He’d knocked her to the ground. She’d been too afraid to fight back. She had let her brother rule her life for too long. She’d had it with bullies. Tony would not hurt his girl.

Kristen faced Tony. “Get out of my house.”

Tony sneered as if she amused him. “Give me Crystal and I’ll leave.”

The girl whimpered behind her. Kristen’s own fear made her sick to her stomach but she refused to back down. “You can’t have her.”

Tony bared his teeth. The right incisor was capped in gold. “I can beat the crap out of you, too. Makes no difference to me.”

She lifted her chin. “I won’t make it easy for you.”

He drew back his fist and landed a blow to Kristen’s stomach. She dropped to her knees as Crystal backed away. Instinct had her curling her fingers into a fist. She might not be able to inflict much damage on Tony but she wouldn’t be a pushover. She would fight him.

To her surprise, she heard Tony yelp.

She opened her eyes to see Dane Cambia standing behind Tony. He’d wrapped his muscled arm with expert efficiency around the punk’s neck and had forced him to the ground. Tony’s face was contorted with pain and anger.

“Let go of me, you bastard,” Tony said.

Cambia tightened his hold, shoving his forearm into Tony’s windpipe. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just break your neck right now.”

The raw anger in Cambia’s voice belied the easy manner he’d exuded yesterday.

Kristen pulled in a painful breath, testing to make sure her ribs weren’t broken.

“Are you all right?” Cambia demanded.

“Better.” She straightened her torso and drew in another breath. The pain was easing.

Cambia’s gaze flickered to her. Seeing her seemed to make him angrier. He wrenched Tony’s army behind his back again.

Crystal wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “How does it feel now, Tony?” Despite her brave words she stood squarely behind Kristen.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Tony said to Crystal.

Cambia choked off the hood’s breath again. “Provided you live that long.”

The violence turned Kristen’s stomach. “Don’t,” she wheezed. She struggled to her feet.

“Let the police take care of him,” Crystal said.

Tony lurched toward her. Dane jerked him back. “I don’t need the police to take care of him.”

Fear registered in the punk’s face when he stared at Dane.

Kristen had to agree with Dane. Police involvement was the last thing she wanted. Antonio had his fingers in too many police departments and if Tony were arrested, she’d have to file a complaint. Her alias would end up in computer files. She couldn’t do that.

“Just get him out of here,” Kristen said.

Tony grinned.

Dane grabbed a handful of the thugs’s hair and jerked his head back. “If I see you around here again, I will make you very sorry.”

Fear again darkened Tony’s eyes. “Fine.”

Cambia let him go, giving him a shove toward the curb. He watched, his hands on his hips like a brawler, as Tony hurried toward his car. He looked back at Crystal. “This ain’t over between us.”

Crystal jutted out her chin, all bravado. “We’re done, Tony.”

He climbed in his car and revved the engine. “Not by a long shot.”

As he pulled away, his tires screeching on the pavement, Kristen raised trembling fingers to her forehead. The violent encounter reinforced memories of the murders of the Churchmen and Nancy. Her knees felt week.

“This isn’t over,” Cambia said. He faced her. “He will be back.”

“His kind always come back,” she said.

Dane held her gaze. “I will be here to protect you.”

But for how long? If Kristen had learned anything this last year it was that she was alone in this world and couldn’t depend on anyone.

Crystal sniffed. “Why didn’t you just call the cops?”

Dane faced her. “He’d be back on the streets in a day or two.”

Crystal nodded. “Yeah. Well, it’s been real, but I better get going.” Her hand on her backpack, she started past Cambia.

His arm shot out and he grabbed her. “Why’d you come here?”

She tried to wrestle her arm free but couldn’t. “Sheridan is my friend. We met at the youth center. She said if I had trouble to find her.”

“What does Tony want with you?”

Cheap silver bracelets jangled on her wrist as she dug her fingers through her dirty hair. “He’s mad at me.”

“What did you do? And don’t B.S. me,” Cambia said.

She shrugged. “I told him not to hide his drug stash at the youth center but he wouldn’t take me seriously. One of the younger kids found it and would have swallowed it if I hadn’t caught him. So I flushed it.”

Cambia’s jaw tightened then released. “Crystal, stay away from Tony.”

Mascara stained the delicate skin under her eyes. “Oh, don’t you worry. I want no part of him.”

Kristen hoped Crystal meant what she said. She’d watched Antonio’s girlfriends take all sorts of abuse only to return to him as if nothing had happened.

“Mr. Cambia, let her go,” Kristen said.

Cambia released Crystal. The girl quickly hurried down the steps and across the street. She didn’t look back.

Kristen straightened, wincing as her bruised ribs shifted. “Some morning.”

Cambia locked the front door. His gaze shifted to her midsection. “Did he hurt you badly?”

“Just knocked the wind out of me.”

Tension radiated from his body. “Let’s get you inside. You could have a broken rib.”

“My ribs are fine. I just need to change and we can get started working.” When she moved she winced.

Cambia shook his head. “First you sit and drink a coffee or tea. I want to make sure for myself that you are okay before you do any lifting today.”

It was tempting to let him baby her, but the truth was she felt better keeping her distance. “I can take care of myself.”

Irritated, he shoved fingers through his hair. “Yeah, well, right now you don’t have to. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

She suspected moving a mountain would have been easier than changing his mind right now. “Fine.”

He followed up the stairs to her small apartment. By the time she reached the small kitchen table, her right side ached.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Grateful, she sat at the small table. “Sheridan has coffee stocked in the shelves. I usually drink tea.”

He brushed her aside. “I’ll make tea.”

“I’m out. I’d planned to pick some up at the market last night, but forgot.” The truth was the green tea she liked wasn’t on sale and at $3.99 a box it was a luxury she couldn’t afford right now.

“Fine. Coffee then.”

As she drew in a careful breath, she studied the deep frown lines on his face. “Where’s the easygoing guy from yesterday?”

Her comment caught him off guard. With an effort, he shrugged, but tension remained in his body. “I don’t like men that hit women.”