to embrace your exile strategy—especially if you have room service and cable. Your taste in upscale digs would piss them off.”
“You think they’d go for it if I stayed at Motel 6?” The old Harper she knew and loved rose to the occasion— black humor and all—but he didn’t stay long.
“I can’t do this, Jess.” Fear edged his voice. “And if they lock me away and someone finds out I’m a cop’s son, what do you think will happen? Hell, maybe I’ve seen too many prison movies.”
He tried to laugh but failed miserably. It only made her sad.
“Oh man, I have enough trouble sleeping,” she admitted, fighting back tears and a fierce lump in her throat. “But Seth, you’re only making things worse. If the cops find you…”
“That’s my new job, Jess”—his voice sounded far off, like he’d turned his head away from the receiver —“making sure they don’t.”
“That isn’t a solution.”
“I know, but it’s all I’ve got,” he said.
Silence. She knew he’d said everything he had intended. Dial tone would be next.
“What about your father, Seth? If you leave, what will happen to him?” Desperation left her grasping at straws, even if it meant hurting him to do it. She hated trumping him with the father card, but she had nothing else.
“Low blow, Jess.” He sighed. “With me in jail, all he’s got is Tony Salvatore anyway, but good try.” An awkward silence reminded her how fragile their connection had always been. “Have a nice life, Jessie. I think my dad would have been proud how you turned out. I know I am.”
Harper didn’t wait for her reply. With a catch in his voice, he ended the call, leaving her wallowing in dial tone.
“Damn it.”
Someone was determined to frame Harper. And to cover their tracks, they’d taken a second shot at it, adding an assault charge for good measure. Yet Jess knew from experience that if the boy didn’t want to be found, he could shape-shift into a damned ghost—for real. But that wouldn’t fix the hole left in her life where he’d been.
Jess had to turn things around with a new game plan. Up until now, the real killer had dictated the action.
She had to stir things up, even if it meant becoming a target for a killer. And, unfortunately for her, she knew exactly where to start.
CHAPTER 16
South Side of Chicago
1:10 A.M.
Hookers don’t get workman’s comp. And forget about sick days, not even in Nevada, where prostitution is legal. Being an independent contractor herself—
So she had a pretty good notion where to find Jade.
And if the woman had known Mandy, she figured chances were that they traveled in the same circles. She didn’t have to start from scratch to track her down. It was a theory—one that had paid off. And she didn’t have to shell out much coin to score Jade’s favorite spots. Even if someone hadn’t given her a usable description, she recognized Jade by her fresh stitches and distinctive limp in stilettos as Jess drove by her on the street.
Finding a spot under the pale glow of blue and red neon, the woman lit up a cigarette with her back to the wall of Phat Jack’s. Next to the lounge was a dark alley, probably the closest thing a streetwalker had to an office. Jade wasn’t working it hard, judging by her slouch and lack of interest in the few men who came out of the bar.
Jess parked the blue van down the street and approached Jade on foot, keeping her hand near the butt of the Colt Python, which she wore under a jeans jacket. When she got close, she heaped on the familiar and added a dash of honey to her voice.
“Well…what happened to you?” She smiled as if she were an old friend, but Jade gave her the stink eye, clearly not in the mood.
“None of yo’ business. Now get outta my face.” The woman flipped a hand—flashing an insane set of long red nails—and turned her shoulder like that would discourage her.
“Okay, I get it. You’re a businesswoman.” She moved, staying in front of the woman. “What’s your price?”
“No way. I don’t go for none o’ that. Beat it.” Jade hobbled away, sucking on her smoke. Two other hookers down the block took notice. And a group of men rounded a corner down the street.
“Hey, I just wanna talk. Nothin’ wrong with that, is there…just talkin’?” Grinning, Jess caught up to her and lowered her voice, turning her back on the unwanted attention from the outsiders. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink inside, and you can take a load off. And I’ll even pay for your time. What’s not to love? Those shoes would be killin’ my feet ’bout now. What do ya say?”
Jade stopped and listened, her tough street act fading as she stubbed out her cigarette. Jess could have been angered by her false accusation against Seth, but she knew the woman had probably had no say in it.
“You buyin’?” she asked, raising her chin in challenge.
“Yep. Whatever you’re having, I’m good for it.”
“I normally get fifty for my time. And I leave, when I say I do.” Jade narrowed her eyes, defying an objection.
Jess grimaced but forced a smile. “I have no doubt you’re worth every penny. Now prove it.”
“Okay, then.” Jade made a beeline for the front door of Phat Jack’s, not waiting for her. But a voice came from behind Jess.
“Don’t move.”
A dark shadow reflected off a nearby window and forced her to stop. On instinct, she inched a hand toward her gun.
“Put your hands up.” A gruff hostile voice. “Don’t turn around.”
The crunch of a shoe on cement gave her an indication where the man stood, too far away for a sucker punch. And the reflected glint of metal under neon warned her the man had a weapon—and two other men at his side, standing in murky shadows.
Jade turned, and her eyes grew wide when she saw the men. She looked scared shitless. Her gaze darted from Jess to whoever stood behind her. In sympathy, the woman slowly shook her head. Jess took it to mean the men would be trouble, but the hooker wanted no part in the beef.
“Beat it, Jade.” One of the men gave her a reprieve. And by using her name, he reminded her that he knew who she was.
No one had to tell Jade a second time. She limped out of sight, leaving only the unsteady clack of her stilettos on the sidewalk for Jess to know which way she went.
“Now turn around…bounty hunter.” The man’s voice made her skin crawl, like an unwanted touch. “And keep your hands where I can see ’em.”
Jess took a deep breath. She had a real bad feeling. And when she turned, she faced three men who had done their homework and knew who she was. And one of them pointed a gun at her chest.
“Gentlemen…good to see you again. Last time we met, we got off on the wrong foot. What can I do to make amends?” She kept her hands waist high.
Flickering neon washed over Sal Pinzolo, casting his brand of ugly in an eerie glow. The man clenched his weapon, taking perverse pleasure in his threat. And by the looks of him, a well-timed stun grenade exploding at his feet hadn’t improved his looks or his disposition any. Another man she hadn’t seen before looked like Pinzolo’s twin, nothing more than muscle for hire with a vacant stare and no neck. And stepping between them was Nadir Beladi,
