“We’re closed, mister.” A guy pushing a broom and picking up garbage yelled at him from across the rink.
“I’ll only be a second. My kid forgot something.” Baker turned his head, not giving the guy a clear look. He didn’t like the attention and had hoped to get in and out without notice.
After he found the right number, he stuffed Beckett’s note in his pocket and tried the key. When the locker opened, he saw his black computer bag inside. He pulled it out, unzipped it, and turned the laptop on. It had enough juice to power up. He wanted to check the desktop to make sure it was actually his, but the damned manager or janitor kept watching him. Baker knew he wouldn’t have much time.
The monitor kicked its blue light across his chest and face as the screen popped on. After a minute, he had his answer. The laptop was his. But to drill down further, to see if the bitch had tampered with his stuff, he’d have to do a closer inspection elsewhere. He packed up his gear and headed out, shifting the shoulder bag tight under his arm and away from prying eyes.
He made a quick exit and walked by the kids who were still standing out front, fighting a growing smile on his face. But that changed when someone stepped out of the shadows in his path.
“You taking up a new hobby, Lucas?”
In the dim light he almost didn’t recognize the man, but the Russian accent was unmistakable. Then he remembered seeing him before.
“I don’t have time for hobbies. What are you doing here? I told you I’d fix the problem.”
“Yes, you did. And yet, here we are. I had to see for myself.”
Baker showed the man what he had slung on his shoulder. “I got my property and I’m back in business. End of story.”
“I wish it were that simple, but you broke protocol. You called attention to our…organization.” The man kept his voice low and steady. And he moved against the light behind him to keep his face in the shadows, making eye contact impossible.
“What’s the big deal? In the grand scheme of things, I only lost a day, nothing more than a hiccup.”
“The point is you showed poor judgment, Lucas. You accessed our site by an unsecured means and you allowed strangers to jeopardize this operation. Secrecy is how we survive, but I don’t think you fully appreciate that. And what if this happens again. What then?”
The man’s voice was nearly a whisper. Baker felt his cheeks blush, and his skin tingled with adrenaline.
“I tell ya, it won’t happen again. I’m gonna take care of that bitch.”
“This bounty hunter…Jessica Beckett, yes?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“And who do you think she’s talked to, Lucas? How much does she know?”
Baker didn’t answer right away. The face of Beckett’s detective friend popped into his head, but if he mentioned the cop, the Russian wouldn’t understand.
“Beckett knows nothing. And even if she did, no one would believe her. The bitch has no credibility. She’s a hothead who goes off half-cocked, flying by the seat of her pants.”
“Yes, unfortunately, I’m familiar with the personality type. Go on.”
Baker understood what he was implying and resented it, but the arrogant bastard was too dangerous to dismiss. The man was more than just a reflection of his boss. Like a psycho, the Russian enjoyed his work, and it showed. He’d seen him in action, once. And once was enough.
“She’s got some kid that works for her. Seth Harper. I don’t think she talked to anyone else. I can take care of him too.”
“Then I suppose her police detective friend isn’t a concern for you?” The man inched closer, sticking to the shadows. “She is to us.”
Baker clenched his jaw, his breath caught in his throat. He inched his hand closer to his weapon.
“Even after I told you I’d handle the situation, you checked up on me?”
“Think of me as quality control.” The man laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “My superiors ask questions, I must have answers. That is all.”
Baker relaxed a little and forced a smile. The Russian still made him edgy, but it looked as if he’d get through this.
“Tell them things are under control.”
“Yes, that is my hope.” The Russian grinned, his silhouette defined by a distant street lamp behind him. “Good night, Lucas. No hard feelings, yes?”
Baker took a deep breath and shrugged, happy to be done with him. It had been a long night. But when he walked by the man, he felt a hand at the back of his neck. The Russian spun him around to face him in the dark and pressed something hard to his rib cage.
He felt a punch to his chest. Then another. It staggered him.
He’d been shot.
Numb and in shock, he tossed the computer bag down and reached for his Glock. The Russian got to his gun first and grappled it from his hand. For the first time, he noticed the man wore gloves.
“Fucking coward,” he muttered.
In the murky haze, everything blurred and faded out of focus. The kids at the entrance to the rink ran for cover. And in the background he heard shouts, the rumble of engines and the squealing of tires. Yet his world spun cock-eyed and sluggish, in slow motion. He dropped to the ground, catching a glimpse of the Russian standing over him.
“You’re nothing…a damned coward.” Baker’s voice cracked. “You couldn’t even…face me like a man, asshole.”
His chest heaved for air but he couldn’t fill his lungs. And the coppery sweet smell of blood made him nauseous and light-headed. He fought to stay conscious, but his arms and legs had grown numb and the pain hit him in powerful waves.
“Is this man enough for you?” The killer raised his weapon and aimed at Baker’s face.
In the split second he knew he would die, Lucas Baker felt the pounding of his heart, but he defied death with a sneer, saying, “Fuck you.”
Muzzle flash was the last thing he saw.
Alexa Marlowe had been on the trail of Lucas Baker for a week, but she’d gotten sidetracked after receiving a tip. Some woman bounty hunter had put out word on the street, looking for Baker too. Curiosity got the better of her and she’d looked into Jessica Beckett, hitting pay dirt when the bounty hunter scored a solid lead on Baker before she did. Alexa had been relegated to playing catch-up, a game she normally refused to play, but now she was determined to make up lost ground.
Following Lucas Baker had been easy. She knew where he was going.
With surveillance gear, Alexa had eavesdropped on his intimidation tactic with the gutsy bounty hunter, all under the nose of the cop who waited outside The Cutthroat. Afterward, she hung back in traffic and forced herself to be patient. Baker had been so focused on getting his laptop back, he hadn’t paid attention to the dark sedan tailing him. He had the ego of a predator, not the prey.
And she had counted on that.
But after a man stepped out of the shadows to speak to Baker in the skate rink parking lot, she realized she’d been just as careless and egotistical. She hadn’t seen the incident coming, but then again, the intruder hadn’t seen her either. After spotting him with her night vision binoculars, she had covered her blond hair with a knit cap and left the anonymity of her vehicle to creep closer. She edged along the shadows in the parking lot with her .45- caliber H&K MK23 drawn.
The two men talked in the dark, but she never got a good look at the second man and had no time to do a proper surveillance of their conversation. When it looked as if their business was concluded, Baker headed for his car. That’s when the stranger pumped two in his chest. The muzzle flash took out her night vision capability, blinding her for a second. By the time she recovered, it was over.
The sudden savagery shocked her.
