Chapter Fourteen

I had to force myself to stop tapping my fingers on the dash. I was on time for my scheduled meeting. Five minutes early, even. But I wasn’t in the mood to wait.

“Control your tells, Seever,” I muttered to myself as I realized my fingers were banging away again.

The thing is, I’m busy almost all the time. I directly employ—if it can be called that—about ten guys with regularity, and probably closer to twenty if you count the mercenaries. Though I prefer not to count them, if I can avoid it. Twenty doesn’t sound like a lot. But there’s other factors at play. For starters, I don’t trust any of them completely, other than Billy. A few I can just barely have enough faith in to get a job done. The majority I can’t even count on for that. So there’s a lot of micromanaging. There’s a lot of telling people things on a need-to-know basis. Of course, there’s a lot of me just doing things because I don’t think anybody else is going to do it right.

And none of that is a problem.

The less time I have to rest, the less time I have to sit and think about what drives me, and the less time I have to think about what turned me from a regular guy into this hulking criminal mastermind.

And no time to wonder what’s going to happen when I’ve achieved my goal. I tried to keep my fingers still.

Truthfully, Cass was the very first thing to distract me from my job, and from my little obsession. There was just something about her. I liked her frank honesty and her direct questions. I liked her. Period.

A small knock on the car window startled me so badly that I actually jumped, and then burst out laughing. A twelve-year-old-ish kid was standing outside my car, and regarding me with uncertainty. I rolled the window down

“Mr. Seever?” he said.

“That’s me,” I agreed with a grin.

“My associate is waiting for you. He wants you to get out and follow me,” the kid told me.

“Does he now?” I let my smile slip as my business-side took over automatically.

The kid nodded.

“I suppose he wants me to leave my weapons behind, too?” I asked.

He nodded again.

“And what did he tell you to do to me if I didn’t comply?”

“He actually kind of assumed you wouldn’t,” said a deeper voice.

The kid backed off, and I recognized the speaker from Yun’s description. The tall, thin man tossed back his shaggy hair, put his hand on the kid’s shoulder, and nodded at me.

“Hello,” I said.

“Seever,” he greeted. “I’m Vance. My boss sent me to answer your questions. And you can keep your gun if it means that much to you.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t bring it, actually.”

“Let’s talk,” he suggested. “The boss said that Yun was rather vague about your needs.”

“Get in,” I replied.

“Get into your car? Where you don’t have a gun?” Vance didn’t exactly sound disbelieving—just indifferent.

But his eyes were calculating. He came around and let himself in.

“My boss did mention you were after some specific ink. But it looks like you’ve already got a preferred artist,” he said as he eyed my arms.

“I am after some specific ink. But it’s not for me,” I replied.

“And you’ve got something to show me?” he asked.

“I might,” I answered.

He sighed. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to find us. Close to ten tattoo parlours from what my boss told me. Are you going to play shy now?”

I handed him the drawing of the tattoo and he surveyed it coolly. I had debated what to show him, and what to tell him. It was true, I had spent a long time trying to find this connection. I’m not in the habit of showing all of my cards at the beginning of a game, but I wanted it to be done. I was getting impatient with it all.

Finally, said a small, relieved voice in my head, and I pushed it aside.

“You know this design?” I wanted to know.

“Where did you get this?”

“My brother.”

I didn’t elaborate. I was pretty sure Yun had probably shared everything with him anyway.

“You want to stay away from this,” Vance said.

“I guess I’ll take that as a yes.”

“My boss was wrong. I don’t have the information you want,” he told me.

“How do you know what information I want?” I replied.

“The man who commissioned this particular tattoo did so over the phone.”

I let my impatience show as I snapped, “I’m aware. Our mutual friend, Yun, already told me.”

Vance ignored my irritation. “He wanted a way to mark his women as his property. I refused on behalf of my boss. Even we have certain standards. I then received a personal visit from the man’s friend—he came to convince me I’d made a bad decision.”

He rolled up his right sleeve and exposed a trail of cigarette burns. But I was distracted.

His women.

My mind went to Monato instantly, and then to Cass, draped lifelessly across his back. Was he involved? It seemed like too much of a coincidence to point to anything but Monato’s culpability. I balled my hands into fists, and nearly missed the next part of Vance’s story.

“His friend also brought the first girl in, and I did my best to replicate his over-the-phone description,” Vance went on. “My first attempt, the man deemed a failure. He sent his friend back to let me know.”

The man rolled his sleeve up further, and I saw four jaggedly healed knife wounds.

“I’d be curious to know who your brother is, and how he got the drawing,” he told me. “It’s the one I made so the client wouldn’t feel a need to punish any more of my mistakes.”

“If you can’t help me, that’s fine,” I replied as I ignored his mildly curious look.

“I don’t think of myself as a criminal,” Vance said. “I’m an artist.”

“I don’t care what you think you are. I don’t even care what you actually are,” I told him.

“But I think you do care,” he stated. “And I must admit…I’m wondering why.”

“Because I’m a criminal?” I asked.

He nodded once.

“You didn’t like it when the man who commissioned these tattoos wanted you to brand his women, and I don’t blame you.” I met his eyes as I spoke. “But what would you do if you thought he killed that little brother of yours?”

Vance’s eyes snapped up, truly expressive for the first time, and it was my turn to nod.

“So you might understand my motivation, at least a little bit,” I said.

“I did these tattoos against my better judgement,” he admitted. “But I don’t know your brother. How exactly did he die?”

“Unpleasantly,” I replied.

“He had this drawing on him when he died,” Vance surmised.

“Yes.”

“Tattooing people under the influence is how I’ve made a living for the last twelve years, but aside from these women, they’ve all been at their own request.”

“Could you identify the man who commissioned the ink?” I asked.

Vance hesitated. “He isn’t a pleasant man, Mr. Seever. And I don’t know his name. Perhaps my boss might not even know it. And even if we did, I probably wouldn’t be permitted to share it.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” I told him.

“You would ask, if you really thought I knew. And if it meant finding the man who killed your brother.”

“Yes, in that case I probably would,” I admitted. “Could you describe the man who brought the girls in?”“

Vance was quiet, looking over my shoulder. He met my eyes and shook his head.

“No.”

I knew instantly that he was lying.

I gritted my teeth. “You can’t? Or you won’t?”

“I can’t,” he said emphatically.

He was lying again. I narrowed my eyes and looked carefully at the other man. His deception was too obvious to have been an accident. He saw me realize it and gave me an almost imperceptible nod. He heaved the car door open violently.

“I have no reason to tell you what you want to know!” he shouted as he climbed out.

“Hey!”

It was then that I spotted the truck cruising around the corner. It circled once, then it stopped, just up the road. A big guy in a suit stepped out and leaned too casually against the door. I immediately realized the reason for Vance’s little display. I watched in frustration as he disappeared up the block. I was sure he had been about to give me something more but my hands were tied by my own weakness. I watched helplessly as the man in the suit climbed back into the truck, and cursed my morality. I couldn’t pursue him without endangering Vance’s life.

I tapped the dashboard, and worked at not slamming my fist into the windshield.

“Godammit,” I muttered.

A phone rang from somewhere in the passenger side door. I reached down, surprised to find a cheap, plastic cell buried in the compartment there. It rang again and I flipped it open.

“Mr. Seever,” Vance said, impassive once more. “Do not say my name.”

“All right.”

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke slowly. “I have a habit of not drawing conclusions or asking questions that don’t relate directly to my art. In my line of business, I’m sure you can understand why. And I don’t blame you for pursuing the man who killed your brother, presuming it is the same one…”

“But?”

“Sometimes it’s better to just let things be. If you can’t change the past, find a way to move on.”

Cass...Her soft skin and sweet smile. Was she a step forward?

I pushed down the sudden rush of emotion.

“Not an option,” I growled.

“The man who brought these girls to me was just an idiot with a gun,” Vance added. “Lethal, but stupid.”

“Would you let it go?” I asked,

“No.”

I waited.

“I may be able to do something better than providing a description of the man who brought the girls in,” he said after a brief pause. “I have him recorded on video surveillance. When I’ve cleared it with my boss, I’ll send a still image to this phone, so keep it handy.”

He hung up, and white-hot satisfaction surged through my body. My hunt was almost over.

I drove back the long way, partly because I wanted to disguise my whereabouts—just because the truck hadn’t followed me didn’t mean I needed to make myself a target. But it was mostly because I wanted to sort out my thoughts. And they weren’t pleasant ones.

I wanted it to be Monato who had commissioned the tattoos. And if it was him, and he had also killed my brother…

Anger crashed through me at the thought that the little creep had been involved in Colin’s death. For several seconds it almost crippled me. Everything about him had always set my teeth on edge. At least I would be able to fully justify my hatred for him.

My body tensed up again, and I breathed carefully in through my nose, trying to calm myself. I’d deal with him as soon as I found out if he was responsible, and as soon as the opportunity allowed it.

As I finally arrived at my home-of-the-moment and parked my car, I knew I was going to have to be patient. And when the photo did come through to the phone, I would likely have to wait until after I’d made sure Cass was safe before making a decision about what to do.

I let myself into the building with a nod at the security guard, then made my way up to the room. My mood was lightening. I paused outside the door, and buried a smile. I realized that I was looking forward to seeing how Cass had dealt with Billy.

“Hey,” I said as I went in.

Billy was watching football, and Cass was sleeping on the couch beside him, slumped purposely away.

“You all right?” Billy asked me.

“Fine.”

“Then why are you grinning like an idiot?”

“I had some bad news,” I told him.

“This makes you happy?” Bill shook his head.

“No.”

He waited.

I glanced down at Cass. Her hair was shiny and clean, and she was wearing my clothes.

“I get it,” Billy said. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s more than pretty.” The words were out before I could stop them.

“I have never said this to you before,” Billy told me. “But, John. You are in over your head.”

“She’s just a girl,” I lied.

Billy leaned over casually and stroked Cass’s arm. She sighed contentedly and my fist closed involuntarily.

“Enough,” I said sharply. “If she’s supposed to be my wife-to-be, I can’t have you touching her like that.”

Billy’s eyebrows shot up. “Your wife-to-be?”

“Yes.”

He looked down at Cass’s left hand, and I saw surprise register on his face when he realized the ring was there.

Billy put his hands up defensively. “It’s your game.”

“It’s not a game. Lives are at risk.”

“Jesus, you’re sensitive today,” Billy said. “The girl is rubbing off on you, isn’t she?”

He was watching me carefully. He stood up and stretched and gave Cass a slow once over.

“I’m not bloody kidding,” I hissed. “Keep your eyes off her.”

“So now it’s my hands and my eyes?” Billy asked mockingly without looking away from Cass.

I stalked over to the older man and grabbed him by the collar.

“Just a girl?” he wondered out loud. “Care to amend that?”

“It’s okay.” Cass’s nervous voice cut through the tension. “Take it easy, John.”

I turned to look at her, and I exhaled slowly as I let Billy go. The older man was just watching me with deep scowl on his face.

“If you don’t control that right away, this isn’t going to work,” he observed.

It dawned on me that Billy was being deliberately antagonistic.

He was testing me to prove a point, and I had probably failed.

I nodded curtly and turned my back to him.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Let’s just get this show on the road.”