Jazz wanted to walk away from her house. From all the hellish moments she’d had here. But first she had to get out. Making a decision, and very tired of dealing with the bad hand other people dealt her, she grabbed the bags from Morgan’s grip and walked away.
She never said anything. She just tugged it free, walked to the truck, and tossed it over the back of the box. She walked back over and collected her boots. There was no way she was leaving the money in the other one. She had to have something to give Borg if he returned. And if he didn’t, then she’d have to decide if she was going to give it to the police or to a charity. Maybe she could do both. Give it to police and if no one claimed it, she could collect it after thirty days and give it to charity then.
She tossed the boots up in the front of the truck cab and hopped in. Like hell she was going back out. She wished she had the keys because that was a given that she’d be driving out of here right now. In fact, she was tempted to hit the horn anyway. Her own truck was parked on the side, her bike at the back. But she didn’t think she could escape in either without pissing Morgan off – and as for Dean’s reaction – she had no idea. She wasn’t going to take the chance. Especially if that left Morgan to deal with an angry Dean.
The two men talked together for a few moments, then Morgan walked toward her.
Quietly, he stepped into the truck and turned on the engine. Backing out of her driveway, he pulled the truck forward and down the block.
Jazz turned to look behind them. There was no sign of Dean.
“So,” she asked quietly. “He let us go, but is he likely to change his mind?”
“I don’t think so.” Morgan shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the roll of bills. “He gave this back.”
She made a startled exclamation and snatched it up. “Really? Why?”
“Because he’s trying to get out of a bad situation.”
“And giving back the money he was promised is going to do that? How does that make any sense?”
“He figures the money was part of the wrong turn in his life. As was Billy. With Billy now gone, he wanted nothing to do with the money. And he knows he’s in deep trouble if Borg ever finds out he had a hand in this.”
“And that part about Billy using a tattoo shop for communicating with his friends?”
There was a deep silence. Then he said admittedly in a deep voice, “He didn’t know the name of the shop but did say he thought it was on Carlson Street. And that it could be yours. It’s one of the reasons he suspected we might have the money.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Christ. Does this mean that Billy was stealing for Borg? And didn’t hand it all over one time?”
“I’m afraid so. And someone – possibly from your store – was their go-between.”
“And the dragon tattoos?”
“I can’t say. But I’m wondering if they aren’t people who worked for Borg?”
She twisted. “Did you ask Dean if he had one?”
He took his eyes off the road and stared at her. “No, I didn’t.”
“You need to. There has to be a connection.”
“I doubt Borg would make his employees get a dragon tattoo in that location. Tattoos are common in gangs, but not like that.”
Jazz wondered if anything would make any sense. There were too many unknowns and too many loose threads. It was crazy. But the problem now was this large stash of cash. “What do we do with the money?”
“I was wondering…maybe we should be trying to contact Borg.”
“Not the police?” She studied his profile carefully. “I’d love to bring the police in on this.”
“I would like to. But keeping you alive is first and foremost. If Borg…who already has us on his radar…is using your shop as a go between, then he’s likely to already know something is up. He’ll be getting insider information somehow.”
“It’s not Roxy or Perl. Roxy has been my partner for almost ten years and Perl has worked there for over a year.”
“I’m not suggesting that they might be,” he said in a mild tone. “I was actually wondering about a camera or audio inside your shop instead.”
Shit. Her breath caught in her chest and stayed there. She closed her eyes as she struggled to release the panic inside. She’d worked so hard to make her business what it was today. To think of someone trying to screw with that was just too much.
“Breathe,” Morgan snapped, his voice harsh. He reached across and shook her. “Damn it, Jazz, breathe.”
Whoosh. The air flushed outward, and more cleansing air swept in. She took in several more breaths before she answered in a low voice, “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It was just the thought of my shop, my customers, everyone being on camera. Every word being listened to, monitored. It’s just too much.”
“Stay calm. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Why did you leave? Damn it, if you hadn’t disappeared, then Billy wouldn’t have gone this far down the road,” she cried. Instantly she regretted the outburst. With a groan, she leaned her head back and said, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”
“Maybe not, but it is the truth. I wonder if he didn’t have this all planned in the first place. That getting rid of me was part of his methodology. Leaving not only you wide open, but the shop available to use as his playground.”
“God, what a horrible thought.” She couldn’t bear to think about it, but it had to be faced. “It also left my house easy to access as you weren’t there.”
“Well, your apartment. You didn’t own the house when I was there.”
“No, I bought it not long after. I’d been looking for a place that didn’t have memories. A new start – in so many ways.”
In the silence of the cab, she could hear his regret.
“So what do we do now?”
“I’m thinking that as the shop is almost closed for the day, we should grab a bite to eat and then go and see if we can find a system that might have been used. There has to be some way that he knows when someone wants him. Or has something for him.”
“Food would be good. I want to go to the store after everyone has left. Including Roxy. She’s been victimized enough.”
“Agreed.”
*
There was a Chinese food restaurant not too far away from the store. He pulled into the back parking lot and turned off the engine. She hopped out.
He waited for her to go ahead of him. The restaurant had just opened for the dinner crowd and was still empty.
Good. Then they wouldn’t be disturbed.
Jazz walked to the window and chose a table close by, seating herself so she could look outside and survey the restaurant. He knew she’d had several major shocks lately. She had to be wondering from what direction the next one was coming from. He sat down opposite her.
The waiter came over immediately and handed over menus.
“Jazz, do you know what you want?”
She shook her head. “No, just order something please.”
He frowned, glanced at the menu, then picked out the dishes he knew she loved and ordered. With any luck, the food wouldn’t take long to arrive. Her skin was pale and her eyes, well, they looked like they’d taken several blows.
“It’s going to be okay. We can fix this.”
“Really? If we give the money back to Borg, then we’re perpetrating the cycle. If we call in the cops, then we’re likely to be the ones in trouble and Borg gets away.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if Borg does get away as long as he stays a long ways away from you.”
“From us,” she snapped. “I don’t want to survive this to find you didn’t. No making stupid sacrifices that get you killed either.”
He grinned at the ire in her voice. “I won’t.”
But the look she shot in his direction said she didn’t believe him. And maybe he didn’t believe it himself. She was right about one thing. He’d take a bullet if it saved her. His brother had put them through shit. Morgan was partly responsible, but Jazz? Well, she’d been an innocent victim the whole way. And that wasn’t fair.
He’d love to give her old life back. As he couldn’t do that, he was hoping to give her a much better future.