Saturday, July 31, midnight

Jess snapped to attention after dozing off and took stock of her surroundings as best she could in the dark. They’d turned off the one lamp in the room. There were other lights on in the house that filtered this way but not enough to make much difference.

The partying continued in the kitchen and dining room or whatever lay beyond the wall she leaned against. The music was loud enough that the wall vibrated. Definitely of the rap variety, with Spanish lyrics. She decided this was a small living room. There was a couch and an old box television set but it either didn’t work or had been left turned off.

No air-conditioning. It was stifling hot. Her wrists ached from twisting the tape back and forth, trying to wiggle out of it. Beneath the tape her skin was raw. She didn’t try to loosen her ankle restraints. One of the drunken goons checked on her from time to time. Whichever one popped in seemed to enjoy staring at her legs. It was best not to have him notice she’d tried to escape. When she got her hands loose, she would take care of the tape around her ankles. She would be loose already if not for her captor having gotten tape happy.

She hadn’t seen DeShawn again. She hoped he had taken her advice.

Nina Lopez had spun him a tale as sad as Cinderella’s woe-begotten saga and he had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker.

From the signals Jess picked up when she and DeShawn talked, he was feeling a little disillusioned and frustrated. If Nina was picking up the same signals, it might be a little too late to turn his situation around.

For his and his grandparents’ sakes, Jess hoped not.

The laughter in the next room suddenly drowned out the music.

Maybe they’d all get shit-faced and pass out. How the hell had screwups like this managed to pull off kidnapping a deputy chief not a hundred feet from headquarters?

Maybe the problem was that Jess had been too distracted. Or maybe it was just dumb luck.

DeShawn walked into the room. Jess sat up a little straighter. He glanced over his shoulder several times as he approached her. Maybe he was coming around to her way of thinking.

He squatted next to her. “I thought about what you said.”

“Good. You need to get away from these people, DeShawn.” She gave him a smile. “I’m proud of you for making the right decision.”

He glanced over his shoulder again, then pulled a knife from under his shirt. “But I can’t go without you.”

Damn. “Leave me the knife and go.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “This is not the time or the place to try to be a hero. Go.”

“No way, lady.” He sliced the tape on her ankles.

Jess scooted forward and let him do the same to the tape around her wrists. Then he gave the knife to her. “Come on.”

He ushered her out of the room and into a small, dark entry hall. “They’re all out back right now,” he whispered.

He’d just flipped the dead bolt when the overhead light came on.

“What the fuck?” a gruff male voice demanded.

A shotgun racked directly behind Jess. She flinched, then froze.

Apparently DeShawn did not understand that when the sound echoed right behind you, it was best not to move.

He turned around and got in the face of whoever was wielding the shotgun. “You gonna shoot me now?” he demanded. “I think you better ask Nina about that.”

While DeShawn ranted at the guy, Jess tucked the knife, a six-inch fixed blade as best she could estimate, into the waistband of her skirt and tugged her jacket down over it.

“Bring her to Nina,” the guy said.

His voice sounded vaguely familiar.

DeShawn took Jess by the arm and turned her around.

Jose Munoz, Lopez’s second in command.

Jess lifted her eyebrows at him. “I’ve seen what your friends do to traitors. I guess you’re not worried about losing your head.”

“You won’t be around to see, so what do you care?” he taunted. To DeShawn, he growled, “Bring her to Nina now.”

Munoz backed up for DeShawn and Jess to walk past him.

DeShawn led her through the room where she had been held and into the well-lit kitchen. Four other men and Nina were draped on counters and relaxed in chairs. Looked as if the tequila was doing its job.

Too bad Munoz was still as sober as a judge. He was no doubt the only reason this ragtag crew had gotten this far.

The music stopped abruptly. The silence was deafening after the hours of booming and thumping. The kitchen was longer and wider than the room where Jess had been restrained. There were numerous windows besides the one over the sink. None were covered, which struck her as odd. Either the tequila had stolen their inhibitions or the whole lot was just more stupid than she had thought.

Unless they were in the middle of nowhere, which Jess doubted, and Nina was supremely confident that her brother wouldn’t find them, she was definitely not the brightest bulb in the light show.

Nina jumped off the counter and slinked over to where Jess and DeShawn stood. Unlike Munoz, she was as drunk as a skunk.

“What’s going on, Shawney?” She curled up against him. “You weren’t being a bad boy, were you?” Her words were slurred.

“We need to let her go,” he said. “What we’re doing is wrong.”

Nina held out her hand to the man closest to her. He placed a black semiautomatic handgun in her palm. She waved it at Jess, then at DeShawn. “I give the orders around here.” She twirled around, giving them her back. “You see that tattoo, cop lady?”

Jess spotted the butterfly on her shoulder.

“You see it?” Nina screamed.

“I see it,” Jess answered. “It’s a nice pink-and-blue butterfly.”

“My mother stole me away from my father”—Nina turned around once more—“when I was just a baby. She hid me from him for sixteen years. When I was thirteen, she had the butterfly with the number thirteen in its wings inked on my shoulder to show I had escaped the life.” She laughed, swayed some more. “But she didn’t understand. The life is in my genes. My father is Leonardo Lopez. This”—she waved her arms wide—“is my destiny.”

“What about your brother?” Jess countered. “Isn’t the life in his genes, too?”

Everyone in the room laughed. One by one Nina shot them a fierce glare. “He doesn’t understand that it’s my turn now. I’m”—she poked herself in the chest—“the new jefa of this clique. Since he refused to move over, he has to die.” She smiled at Jess. “And you and Shawney are going to help me make that happen.”

“Stop it, Nina,” DeShawn demanded. “You’re talking crazy talk.”

“Get on your knees,” she said to Jess.

“You should listen to him, Nina,” Jess suggested. “He’s the only real friend you have.”

Munoz shoved Jess downward, onto her knees.

Nina pointed the weapon at Jess, who held her breath and tried not to shake, but the quaking had started deep inside her. She really wished she had peed when she had the chance. It was so embarrassing when victims lost control at a time like this. It would be her luck that smart-mouthed Dr. Schrader would be the one called to the scene. That would really suck.

“No.” DeShawn stepped in front of Jess. “I won’t let you do this. Maybe you ain’t got the sense to see what’s going down, but I do. These people are using you to overthrow your brother. They’ll do the same thing to you.”

As much as Jess didn’t want her brains scattered all over this beat-up linoleum floor, she wished the kid would get out of the way before he got himself killed.

“He’s right, Nina. Your pal Munoz there is double-crossing you.” Jess had no idea if that was true or not but the suggestion might buy her some time.

“What’s she talking about?” Nina demanded of the man now standing next to her.

“She’s fucking with your head, Nina. Just shoot her and get it over with.”

While they argued, with DeShawn right in the middle, Jess slipped the knife from beneath her jacket and hid it in her right hand with the blade resting against the back of her wrist.

DeShawn got in Munoz’s face. “Why should she listen to you? She’s my girlfriend.”

Munoz grabbed him by the throat and forced him to his knees next to Jess. “But she’s my woman,” he snarled. “She listens to me.”

Nina shot him in the head. The sound exploded in the room. Blood and brain matter spurted. Munoz collapsed to the floor in front of Jess and DeShawn.

DeShawn screamed and scrambled away from the body as the crimson pool beneath Munoz’s head spread wider and wider.

Jess knew better than to move. Luckily the floor wasn’t level, so the blood flowed in the other direction.

“I don’t belong to no man,” Nina screamed at the dead man. “And I do what I want.”

The other four in the room had backed away from her. Maybe they’d all make a run for it.

“Put the gun down, Nina.”

DeShawn was on his feet and trying to talk to her again. Damn it. Why didn’t he get the hell out of here? You couldn’t tell the younger generation a thing! Not even one who had been raised to respect his elders.

Likewise, Nina wasn’t listening to DeShawn. She was staring at Jess. As if in slow motion, she trained the handgun on Jess’s face once more. Whether it was the alcohol or mental illness or just plain old evil, anticipation danced in her dark eyes. She was looking forward to this.

“Good-bye, cop lady.”

Jess flung herself to the left. The weapon fired. Hit the floor.

More gunfire erupted. Glass shattered.

Nina screamed. Her followers were yelling and running for cover.

The gunfire was coming from outside. Not wide sweeps. Precise, tight shots.

Cops.

DeShawn was trying to get Nina to listen to him. Jess scrambled up on all fours and rammed into his legs. He went down.

Nina hit the floor next, screaming in agony.

DeShawn tried to move toward her. Jess held him still. “Don’t move until it’s clear.”

“She’s hit,” he argued. “I need to help her.”

“You can’t help her if you’re dead.” There were more gunshots outside.

DeShawn relented and stayed on the floor with Jess.

“Police! Put your weapons down and your hands up!”

Doors were kicked inward. Bodies in full SWAT garb swarmed into the room.

Nina was sobbing, but DeShawn made no move to comfort her now.

He had learned a hard lesson.

The best part was he’d lived through it.

Howard Johnson Inn, 5:30 a.m.

“You don’t need to come in,” Jess assured him.

Dan shut off the engine. “You’re kidding, right?”

She didn’t want to argue. Too tired. Using the last of her strength, she dragged her bag from the floorboard and reached for the door handle, but Dan was already there with the door open.

Before she could fathom his intent, he scooped her out of the seat and into his arms.

“Dan!” she protested.

“I’m not letting you walk across this parking lot in bare feet.”

Her shoes hadn’t been found. Damn it. She had liked those ivory-colored pumps. Now she’d have to find something else to wear with this suit. Damn it.

Right now, though, she just didn’t care. She relaxed in Dan’s arms and savored the smell of his skin. God, she loved the way he smelled.

When they reached her door, she dug around in her bag until she found her key.

In the room he settled her on the bed.

“I’ll start you a bath.”

“Thanks.” Too bad she didn’t have any wine. Wine would be good right now.

The water started to run in the bathroom and the sound soothed her. She leaned into the comforter and closed her eyes for just a second. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of how happy Mr. and Mrs. Simmons had been to see their grandson.

Dan had promised them he would see to it that no charges were filed against DeShawn as long as he agreed to counseling.

Jess was glad. DeShawn had made a mistake. He’d fallen in love with the wrong girl.

Nina’s injury hadn’t been life threatening. Jess imagined that before she got out of prison she might wish it had been.

God, she was so tired.

She’d wrapped up two cases in one week.

It wasn’t her usual closure rate but it was a good start.

Next week would be better.