Chapter Eleven

There was movement from the front of the shop and the sound of someone kicking through the broken glass from the window. A voice called out, “Hold your fire. It’s me, Julian Parisi. Are you all right?”

The Baker aimed his weapon at the open doorway. “Are these bastards with you?”

“You know they aren’t.” His voice was angry. “I overheard you yelling at each other. You knew that Damien worked for Zapata. I’ve been chasing all over the damn place, looking for him. All the while, you knew I was wasting my time. You knew who he was.”

“Maybe you’re not so smart, Professor.”

This was only the second time she’d heard anyone use Julian’s nickname, and she didn’t miss the sneer in Valentino’s tone. In spite of Julian’s intelligence, he didn’t have much in the way of street smarts.

“Here’s my question,” the Baker said. “If you weren’t working with Damien, how did you end up here in the middle of the night?”

“I saw him at Nick’s, picked him up with facial recognition on the surveillance cameras. Instead of grabbing him, I followed him when he left the casino and got in his car. I didn’t know he was coming here, didn’t know he was gunning for you.”

The Baker heaved a heavy sigh. “You got anybody else with you?”

“Rudy and two other guys,” Julian said. “Are we done talking? I need to get in there and clean up your mess before the cops arrive.”

“Yeah, you can come in.”

He stepped through the door with his hands raised over his head, which was smart because Valentino was still armed and ready to shoot anybody who irritated him. When Julian looked in her direction, she could tell he was surprised to see her and angry, very angry. “Good evening, Angie.”

The sound of his voice comforted and disturbed her at the same time. Even though he’d given an explanation for why he was here, the timing of his arrival felt strangely coincidental. Not that she thought he was working with the cartel like Zapata, but she knew that Julian was an important cog in Lorenzo’s machine.

She looked from the dead men on the floor to Julian. Both sides of this battle were criminals. There was nobody to root for. She tried to force a smile but failed. “Glad to see you.”

He turned his back on her and asked the Baker, “What’s she doing here?”

“Buying a cake.”

“At midnight on a Sunday?” He shook his head in disgust and disbelief. “That’s what I call a half-baked story.”

Valentino chuckled. “Good one.”

Julian leaned over Damien’s body, felt for a pulse and shot her a glance. “Did you kill him, Angie?”

“She tried.” The Baker illustrated by making his thumb and forefinger into a gun. “Blondie has a little pop gun in her purse.”

How could he make jokes? She stared into the lifeless eyes of the man who had fallen only a few feet away from her. Blood stained his pale yellow shirt, his face and his hands. In death, his fingers still clutched his weapon. She’d seen dead people before. A few years ago in Reno, she’d witnessed the aftermath of a bloody battle with six victims, but this was the first time she’d seen a man take his last breath and die right in front of her.

Julian came closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. She jerked away. Don’t touch me. She didn’t want to be lulled into false security, not with three murdered men on the floor. Her brain needed to stay sharp.

“You’ve got spatter on your hand,” he said. “Were you injured?”

“This isn’t my blood.”

“It could very well have been.”

He was right! She could have been killed by Damien and his men or by the Baker. The smart thing to do right now was to get away from here as quickly as possible. Maybe she ought to drive straight to the FBI headquarters, admit defeat and end her undercover assignment. For the first time, she considered quitting in the middle of an assignment. On her phone, she had a highly protected app that she could activate with a three-digit code. The signal rang through to the FBI and notified her handler that she was in need of immediate backup. Special agents could track her location using her phone’s GPS.

Never before had she thought she’d need those buttons. Calling for help would knock her down a few rungs on the career ladder, and she wouldn’t have her choice of assignments. But getting killed on the job wasn’t a good alternative.

She wanted to stick with this investigation. Damien had dropped new information that she should check out. He’d mentioned an escaped girl, which indicated that they’d already started the trafficking operations—at least, trial runs—using Nick’s. Angie had to stay on the job so she could rescue that girl who might be Cara’s playmate. Until Gigi was safe, Angie couldn’t quit, but that didn’t mean she had to stay right here in the middle of a crime scene. “My car is parked down the block. I’m leaving.”

“You’re in no condition to drive.” Julian pulled a stool over beside the stainless steel table and patted the seat. “Sit. Catch your breath.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need help.” Her standard response. She’d made that claim so many times that she actually believed it was true. She didn’t want to be dependent, didn’t want to need him or anybody else.

In an unexpectedly gentle tone, he said, “Let me take care of this.”

If only she could believe him! She wanted to take a step back and let her brain rest while somebody else took the initiative and the responsibility. Gazing into his intense blue eyes, she felt safe and reassured.

From her perch on the stool, she watched as Julian checked the other two men to make sure they were all dead. He took out his cellphone and had a conversation. She wondered if he was talking to Lorenzo to get instructions. Or was Julian important enough that he didn’t need to consult with the boss?

The Baker lumbered over and stood beside Julian. “This wasn’t my fault,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Damien broke in here. This was a clear case of self-defense. You can ask Angie on account of she saw the whole thing. She’s my witness.”

“It’s all right, my friend. You don’t need to worry about witnesses or self-defense,” Julian said. “We’re not going to tell the police about this.”

Ice-cold dread surged through her veins. No police? With numb fingers, she checked the safety on her Tomcat to make sure it was ready to fire in case she needed to shoot her way out. As if she could? Running away was a much better idea. If she could slide out of this room and make it to her car, she wouldn’t stop driving until she reached the Pacific shores.

Rudy entered the shop from the front. “Hey, Baker, it looks like I missed all the fun.”

The young man’s bravado wasn’t convincing. She noticed a twitch near his eye and guessed that he was nearly as nervous as she was.

“About the other two guys who came with us,” Julian said. “Can they be trusted? Before you answer, keep in mind that your uncle will be very disappointed if your buddies start bragging or shooting off their mouths to the cops.”

“They’re cool,” Rudy said.

Julian spoke to the Baker. “Go home and clean up. Take a shower to get the gunshot residue off your skin. Then you should burn your clothes. Your wife will give you an alibi, not that you need one. We will never speak of this night again.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Rudy asked.

“You and your crew are in charge of cleanup. There’s not much time before Valentino’s morning bakers come in to start work. Wipe everything down. Use bleach on the blood. Repair the broken window in the front door.”

“Got it,” Rudy said. “What’s your job?”

“Not that it’s any of your damn business, but it’s what I always do,” Julian said calmly. “I get rid of the bodies.”

He stalked across the kitchen toward her. With every step that brought him closer, her heart beat faster. “You don’t need to tell me what to do,” she said. “I know the drill. I go home, take a shower, burn my clothes and forget this happened.”

“You’re coming with me.”

She most definitely did not want to ride along while he dumped the bodies. “But I need to clean up. I’ve got blood on my jacket.”

He took off his glasses and leaned closer. His blue eyes—a liar’s eyes—cast a mesmerizing glow, but she had to be immune. She couldn’t take a chance on going with him. “You ride with me, Angie.”

Turning off her apprehension was impossible, but there was a part of her—the FBI-trained sector of her brain—that told her she needed to hear what he had to say. Julian was a major player in the Lorenzo organization. He might give her information that would unravel all these twists and turns. No matter how scared she was, she had to go with him.

Climbing off the stool, she stood before him and stared up into those incredible eyes. She linked her arm with his. “Lead on.”

WHEN JULIAN ESCORTED Angie to his SUV and held the door open for her, he saw her reluctance in the way she fidgeted. This lady was ready to take off like a jackrabbit, and he couldn’t let that happen before they had a few things straightened out. “Please wait for me in the car,” he said. “And I need to see your purse.”

“Why?”

“Maybe I want to freshen up my lipstick.”

“Not funny and not the right timing. We’re only a few steps away from a murder scene.” She did a tsk-tsk like an old lady. “You and Valentino share a very weird sense of humor. Now, tell me why you want my purse.”

“To dispose of your gun,” he said. “I’m guessing that your cellphone and car keys are also in that tiny purse, and I’d feel better with both of those items in my possession.”

“So I can’t run away?”

“Correct.”

“You don’t trust me.”

Before she could make another objection, he lifted her purse from her lap. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He returned to the bakery and gave more detailed orders to Rudy and the other two stooges. They’d found a storage closet at the back of the shop, and it contained the supplies they’d need, including painter’s drop cloths to wrap the bodies and a pane of glass to repair the broken window in the front door.

“Use all the cloths,” Julian instructed. “I don’t want to get too much blood in my car.”

“You got it, boss.” Rudy stepped up. He was in charge and clearly enjoyed giving orders. “We’ll take care of the mess. You tell my uncle I’m doing a good job.”

Julian returned to his SUV, got behind the wheel and turned toward her. “Here’s your purse, and I brought you something else.”

He handed her a small white box printed with the Valentino logo. She immediately opened it. “A cupcake?”

“You’re welcome.” He started the engine and drove around to the back of the shop where Rudy and his guys could more easily load the bodies. Valentino’s van was already gone.

“I don’t believe this,” she snapped. “Do you really expect me to forgive you because you brought a cupcake?”

“It’s chocolate icing.”

“In the future, please don’t grab my belongings and treat me like a child. If you really needed for me to stay in the car, you could have explained. Like an adult.” She flipped open the purse and dug through it. “Where are my car keys?”

“I gave them to Rudy.” He maneuvered the SUV so the rear was near the back door of the bakery. “He’s going to drive your car to Nick’s so we don’t have to come back into town to pick it up.”

“Totally unacceptable,” she said. “I want my keys and my car. And I don’t want to ride along with you to dump the bodies.” He saw her reach for the door handle and tapped the childproof locking system. She yanked the handle twice before she realized she couldn’t get out. “Open this. Open it now.”

“For the next hour, I need your undivided attention. I owe you an explanation, and this isn’t something I can rattle off in a few quick sentences. It’s complicated, and it’s important that you understand. Things can get serious when you’re working for Lorenzo. Tonight, you saw how bad it can get.”

“Three murders. It doesn’t get much worse.”

“Last night, I promised that I’d protect you. That’s what I mean to do.”

The side door of the SUV slid open, and Rudy stuck his head inside. “Where do you want them?”

“In the back, and you’ll need to collapse the rear seat to make room. I’ll pop the lock.”

Angie turned so she could see what was going on behind her. In a quiet voice, she said, “What if I don’t want your protection?”

“I’m not trying to insult you or say that you’re weak. But you’re new in town and really don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” The car bounced as the first body was loaded into the back. “You might get hurt while you’re figuring things out.”

“Thanks for your concern but you don’t know what’s best for me. I’ve been making my own decisions for a very long time, and I know what I need.” She swiveled around in her seat and focused on the windshield. “You might have gotten the wrong impression last night when I was all weepy. I’m not like that.”

“I never said you were.”

“You think I should stay safe. What does that mean? Wait, let me guess. You think I should keep my head down and do my job at OTB and not make waves. I should be a good girl, an obedient girl. Take no risks. Then I won’t get hurt.”

In the dim light behind the bakery, he studied her determined expression. When she looked at him, her dark eyes blazed. “I’d never try to tell you not to make waves. That’s not your nature. Angie, you’re a tsunami.”

“You bet I am.”

The back of the SUV bounced again as corpse number two was loaded inside. “Give me the chance to explain. Afterward, the decisions are up to you.”

“And you’ll take me back to my room at Nick’s?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She flipped open the lid on the cupcake box and scooped a bite of frosting. The rumbling sound from the back of her throat sounded like purring. “I love chocolate.”

TELLING HER THE whole truth might not be the smartest strategy he’d ever come up with, but his decision was made. He’d meant it when he said she needed to know what kind of mess she’d stumbled into. A clear picture was necessary, but he wasn’t anxious to get started with his long, complicated story and wasn’t sure how she’d react.

“Question,” she said. “When do I get my gun back?”

“Not as long as it can be tied to the murders. Are you attached to the Tomcat?”

“It’s a handy size.” She licked her lips, savoring every taste of chocolate. “I can’t actually remember the last time I fired it.”

The third body was dumped inside and the back of the SUV closed with a final click. Rudy tapped on the driver’s side window and Julian lowered the glass.

“We’re done,” Rudy said.

“Good.” The kid was proving to be a useful assistant, after all. “When you’re finished with the rest of the job, take photos on your phone and send them to me.”

“Got it.” He stepped out of the way as the SUV pulled forward.

Driving west toward the mountains, Julian should have felt more relieved. The issue of the man with the scar had been permanently settled with Damien’s death. Evidence from the crime scene would be erased. And he knew Zapata was not to be trusted.

“I’m ready,” Angie said. “Tell me your complicated story.”

The truth would shock her. He couldn’t just blurt it out. “I’m going to start with what happened three years ago when I joined the construction crew working on the building and renovating at Nick’s.”

She popped the last bite of cupcake into her mouth and gave another chocolate purr. “I don’t suppose you grabbed another one of these.”

“I should have grabbed a dozen.” Glancing over at her, he wished she’d invite him to lick the icing from her lips. Thoughts like that made it even more difficult to be honest with her.

“Back to your story,” she said. “Once upon a time...”

“This isn’t a fairy tale. There’s no moral to the story, and I’m pretty sure there isn’t a happily-ever-after.”

He didn’t want to drop this bombshell while they were so close to the bakery and might be followed. Better to wait until...until what? Damn it, there wasn’t a good time for him to tell her that he’d been lying from the first moment they’d met. The whole time he’d been accusing her of withholding information and being mysterious, he had his own secrets.

She might betray him, but that was a chance he was willing to take. If she didn’t want to cooperate and step away from trouble, he could always have her arrested. That was one of the advantages of his real job as an undercover agent for the Colorado Bureau of Investigation.