your friend wakes up, this’ll all be over.”
He made it seem as if Alexa would walk away from this, but she knew better. Jess shifted her gaze to the spiky-haired man with a nose ring, who had grown careless with his gun, waving it in the air to punctuate his demands. It took her a moment to recognize him, but when she did, surprise made her flinch. And remembering his name had challenged her too.
“Jake Cordell, isn’t it?” She forced a smile when he lowered his weapon. “You’re a long way from Dirty Monty’s. What’s this got to do with you?”
She hated admitting her ignorance, but getting him to talk was important. Her mind raced with why Jake was willing to kill to cover his ass. He wasn’t a drug-dealing pimp, or a thug with an attitude and a quick knife, or even a guy trying to hide stolen merchandise. The guy was the bartender at Dirty Monty’s—a damned barkeep—the bastard who had her chasing after tattoos and no doubt lied about everything he’d told her about Mandy.
In an instant she realized she was back at square one—and completely screwed.
“No way. I got the gun. That means I ask the questions.” He narrowed his eyes, anger seething behind them. “This kid should’ve come alone. Now you’re all fucked.”
He clenched his jaw, looking real mean. But when he realized that whatever plan he had, it was about to blow up, his face got red, and he yelled, “Why are you here, damn it?”
Spittle ran down his chin. And she heard the panic in his voice. The man looked like it wouldn’t take much to shove him over the edge. He walked toward the door, looked outside to make sure they didn’t have company, then shut it. Guess he didn’t like surprises. Her eyes followed Jake, looking for a way to get a jump on him. But being on her knees gave her a disadvantage.
Recognition flickered in the bartender’s eyes. He stared at her, then jabbed his gun into her face, and asked, “Hey…didn’t you say you worked for an insurance company?” When she shrugged, he spat, “You lied!”
Given all that had happened, the guy was actually pissed at her for lying? Unbelievable.
“Murder trumps lying. Guess you win.” When humor didn’t defuse the situation, she tried a distraction. “Where’s Seth, by the way?”
She tried to keep the edge from her voice. But when Jake’s eyes shifted to the floor behind her, she slowly turned her head to look.
“Oh no,” she gasped. “Seth.”
CHAPTER 25
Her eyes took in the rest of the room for the first time as Jess rocked back on her haunches, taking the weight off her knees. The gasp they’d heard outside the door must have been Seth’s father, Max. At the edge of the shadows, the feeble man sat on a wooden bench, his wheelchair missing. He quietly sobbed, staring down at the body of his son.
That’s when she saw Seth. His foot was bent at an odd angle. Belly down, he lay twisted on the floor at his father’s feet, with most of his body in darkness. And the familiar tang of blood hit her. She willed him to move, but when he didn’t, she searched for any signs of breathing. There were none.
Jess nearly choked. Her body shook. And something deep inside her broke. The onset of another panic attack gripped her, but when she crawled toward Seth, Jake stopped her with a vicious kick. She rolled to lessen the blow, but he’d gotten a piece of her ribs.
“Don’t move! Or I’ll kill the old man,” he yelled, shoving the gun barrel against Max’s head. “Nothing you can do for the kid anyway.”
She grimaced in pain and fixed her eyes on the man with the gun.
“Is Seth…” She couldn’t say it.
Looking deranged, Jake paced the floor and ran a nervous hand through his hair, the whites of his eyes showing. His mind elsewhere.
“This is all wrong,” he muttered. “It didn’t have to go down like this. This was supposed to look like the kid offed himself.”
It pained her to think about Seth. And if she had been alone with Jake, with no one else to worry about, she would have taken out her rage on him. But that wasn’t the case. Max needed her help, and Seth would have wanted her to take care of his father. That meant she wouldn’t wait for a crazy man with a gun to decide their fate. After taking a deep breath, she forced herself to deal with their grim situation and the bastard holding them at gunpoint.
“Tell me about Mandy, Jake.”
She’d been careful not to accuse him of killing the girl. And even though reminding the man of his body count was a risk, she had to get him talking to buy time. And maybe with luck, he’d make a mistake.
“Wasn’t my fault,” he rambled as he fidgeted, scratching his head with the muzzle of his gun. “She brought it on herself. Not me.”
“The crank made her crazy?” She gave him an opening to tell his version of the truth, acting as if she were on his side.
Ignoring her—maybe not even hearing her question—Jake pointed his gun at Seth, and ranted, “You know that kid really screwed it up. He had that whore believing she could change her life and get clean. And that bitch believed him,” he screamed, his voice cracking. “It was his fault.”
Jess saw him losing control and moved a leg to put one foot on the floor, balancing her weight on a knee. In his condition, Jake might not see her shift position, but if she had leverage, she could rush him.
“But why kill her…that way?” she asked, keeping her posture passive with head low.
“I asked that, too.” He laughed. A strangled guttural sound. “She could’ve OD’d. That would’ve done it.” He gestured wildly. “And none of us would be here…like this.”
It took a moment for his words to register.
“Asked who, Jake?” She softened her voice, downplaying her desperate need to know. “Who else was involved in Mandy’s murder?”
“No one,” he yelled, pointing his gun at her again. “SHUT UP! Just shut up…so I can think.”
As fast as the guy was unraveling, he didn’t strike her as the mastermind behind all this.
“Why was she killed, Jake?” she pressed.
At first, she wasn’t sure he’d answer. He shot her a glare and aimed his gun, taking away her breath. But eventually he lowered the weapon.
“Desiree overheard something she shouldn’t have,” he began. Then in a move that surprised her, Jake added, “It was my fault.”
“What do you mean, your fault?”
“She overheard a conversation about a side business I had going.” He shook his head. “I thought she’d be cool…keep her mouth shut out of…gratitude. Hell, I let her operate under Beladi’s nose, for cryin’ out loud, but that wasn’t enough for her.”
“She ask you for money?” Her way of asking about Mandy’s blackmail scheme.
“Yeah, said she wanted to leave town.” Jake raised his voice. “That kid convinced her she could start a new life, like her slate could be wiped clean. Can you believe it?” With his chest heaving, he never slowed his pace. Jake looked like a caged hamster running a wheel, with no place to go. “I would’ve been okay with payin’ her off, but…”
He stopped.
“But someone didn’t think that was good enough,” she took a guess. “…and didn’t trust your judgment?”
The bartender didn’t reply, but if looks could kill, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think the lethal laser shooting from his eyes could smoke her.
What the hell had Jake been thinking to lay claim to a piece of the smoker’s turf? Nadir Beladi hadn’t built his drug and prostitution business by playing nice. The man was smart and a damned viper when it came to controlling what was his. And being surrounded by family, he had others covering his back. That was why the DA had had trouble pinning murders and other crimes on him.
But Jake definitely had an accomplice. Someone more ruthless with an edge of cruelty had tricked him into staging Harper’s suicide, which included the heartless murder of an old man with dementia—a move that was lower than low.
