ACCORDING TO PLAN Page 8

  Tank sat on an overturned crate and kept the gun pointed at our big burly friend while we waited for him to wake up. I watched the entire thing from the side of the Blue Bomb, holding the stick of wood within kicking distance of Tony’s partner. When Tony finally came around he didn’t look too pleased to see us in control of their roadside diversion. He semi-sat, but went no further when Tank waved the gun at him.

  “Anthony. Long time no see. What are you doing in my back yard?”

  “I don’t got nuthin’ to say to youse guys.” Tony mumbled.

  My eyes rolled heavenward at the classic ‘bad guy’ line. Tony obviously didn’t have many conversation skills.

  “Well Tony, here’s how I see it. I’ve got the gun, you don’t. This makes me think you’ll have a lot to say.” Tank scratched his jaw with the barrel of the gun, “Now we can do this easy, or it can go down like our last little meet and greet. You decide.”

  Tony’s eyes, red and irritated from the spray, became huge like saucers. He clearly panicked and blubbered, “Come on man, take it easy. Don’t be shooting me again.”

  Shoot him? Tank shot him?

  “Then spill. I’m getting testy and that’s my wife you were roughing up.”

  “Your wife?” Tony paled even more, if that were possible.

  Little dude started to wake and, in my humble opinion, move too much, so I gave him a swift kick in the backside, adding a visual reminder by thumping the wooden stick in the palm of my hand. He settled back down with a sullen look on his narrow face.

  I’d jammed the sliver deeper and the stupid thing was driving me crazy, so once more I gnawed at my palm, stopping when I heard Tony say, “…so we was to get the girl in the truck and meet up at the warehouse.”

  That didn’t sound too good for me.

  “Tony, turn over so I can cuff you and don’t even think about running.” Tony rolled over and let Tank slap some handcuffs on him. Then Tony struggled back into a sitting position. Tank came over beside my desecrated car and pulled out his phone.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Tell Neil we have a situation and I need cleaners at…” He looked around. “…the alley at First and Delaware. Bring a flat-bed tow truck.” Tank looked down at weasel lying at my feet. He took the two by four from me and propped it against the car.

  “Good job.” Tank draped an arm around me and squeezed. He flipped the Glock and handed it to me, handle first. “Take this and watch Tony. If he moves, shoot him.”

  The whole situation was beyond anything I’d ever encountered and I could only stare. I felt like I’d wandered onto a bad movie set and at any moment a skinny, balding man in a beret would jump out from behind a dumpster yelling, “Cut!”

  Tank placed both hands on my shoulders, gently turning me to face Tony. With a firm hand he lifted my elbow, so that it was almost shoulder high and away from my body. “Point the gun that way, darlin’.”

  I racked the slide, popped out the magazine and reloaded the gun. “Thanks. I got it.” Tank nodded in appreciation, ducked his head and kissed me quick. The gun laid a little heavy in my hand. My own handgun was a Glock 23 Sub-compact or ‘Baby Glock’ as others liked to call it. For me it was the perfect size and when I added the mag extension, gave me a fantastic grip. Confidence returning, I held the gun on Tony, who looked panic-stricken.

  I decided it was payback time and shrugged, levelling a bored look at Tony. “Don’t make me use this. I might shoot off something you think is important.”

  The words hung between us and I heard Tank choke back a laugh. Tony didn’t know I was a crack shot. My range instructor called me a freak of nature.

  Tank shifted his attention to the smaller man lying on the ground to my left. He’d rolled over onto his back and Tank could now see his face. “Vinnie Malone, what are you doing with Anthony again? Keeping company with him is hazardous to your health.”

  Vinnie’s eyes bulged and sweat poured down his face. Standing near the car, I kept the gun trained on Tony. I wondered again how Tank knew these two guys. My attention pivoted to Tank and Vinnie, but they were talking in low tones.

  “…this information does not make me happy Vincent.” Tank’s voice had risen in anger. “You need to give me a name ‘cause when the cleaners get here it won’t go good for you, if y’all catch my drift.”

  I thought Vinnie was going to puke. Fear rolled off him in waves. At least I wanted to think it was fear. I was not going to be the one to check if it was something else.

  Eeeww.

  “Aw Tank. I can’t. He’d cut off my balls if I ratted.”

  “Vinnie, he can only cut off what’s left after Shelby’s shoots ‘em.” Tank said.

  Vinnie turned as grey as the concrete he lay against and looked at me. I waved a salute with the gun. I could almost see the wheels in his brain turning as he weighed his options. Decision made, he took a deep breath and began. “I only talked to this guy on the phone. I never met him. We was to take the girl and her car to this warehouse on Industrial Road. That’s all I know. I’m just the driver.”

  “So, who gave him your names?”

  “I don’t know, honest.”

  Tank shook his head. “That’s not good business, Vinnie. You should always know who gives your name as referrals. So you can reciprocate.” He looked over at Tony. “That means return the favor. Vinnie should always get a name, right Tony?” Tony nodded unenthusiastically, his eyes never leaving the gun.

  Tank squatted down beside Vincent, grim-faced. I didn’t recognize this man looming over Vinnie. He’d grown bigger, if that was possible and menacing. His face turned hard, like granite and his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “Vinnie, you could find yourself in a lot of trouble. In fact, you could end up hog-tied in an alley waiting for someone to take you away.” He leaned closer. “Take you away somewhere quiet, where no one will hear you. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  A bead of sweat slowly made its way down the side of Vinnie’s face and disappeared under his collar. Visibly shaking, he nodded yes. Tank straightened, but not before he patted Vinnie’s cheek, hard. “That’s good. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

  Just then two nondescript black SUV’s pulled into the alley. Four beefy men in matching dark suits and shades piled out followed by a lean, angular man. My first thought was, this is so Men In Black. With quiet efficiency they brought Tony and Vincent to their feet and escorted them to the waiting SUVs.

  Tank took the Glock from me and brought it to the man I assumed was Neil, who said, “You did it this time, Steele. You blew your cover. I hope she was worth it.”

  I didn’t hear what Tank said, but Neil gave a physical start, then turned and stalked off. I had a strong suspicion Tank hadn’t been too polite with the man. Wrong move, if he’s your boss.

  Throughout all of this, a tow truck backed in and an older male exited, calmly winching the Blue Bomb to the back of the truck. He then threw the door Tony ripped off onto the flat bed portion and I watched him take my baby away.

  A loud backfire, followed by a series of clunks had me turn and peer down the alley. What was Regis doing here?

  “Are you ready to go for a ride?” Startled, I turned to see that Tank had returned and he flashed me a cocky grin. If he was in trouble with Neil, he didn’t show it. He threw his arm around my shoulders and steered us toward his motorcycle.

  I picked at the splinter again and asked, “Did you see Regis? I heard his car.”

  “No. Are you sure it was him?”

  “Oh yeah. I’d recognize the sound of his old junker anywhere. It’s the stuff my nightmares are made of.”

  That, and being sold into a slavery.

  Tank shrugged. “Maybe he got side tracked by the detour signs like you. Come on, let’s go home.”

  I checked over my shoulder to see what was happening, but Tank turned my head back and said, “Keep walking. Nothing you’d want to be a witness to.”

  I shivered and for the first time with Ta
nk’s arm around me, not from anticipation.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Ow, ow, ow!”

  “Stop being a baby, it’s just a splinter.”

  “No it’s not. It’s the size of an HB pencil and it hurts.”

  I sat at the kitchen table while Tank crouched before me and removed the offending sliver of wood with a pair of tweezers. With a satisfied sigh I looked up and found him watching me. Eyes smoldering, lower lip caught between his teeth, he scorched me with that one quick glance. Never taking his eyes off me, he slowly released his lower lip before raising my palm to his mouth.

  Oh my.

  Heat pooled low in my belly when he pursed his lips and softly blew on the tiny, open wound. The hairs on my arm stood on end and an electrical energy shot straight from my hand to the center of my feminine core. Fascinated by his lips, I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

  He leaned toward me. Would he kiss me? My lips parted in anticipation. Flickers of disappointment stung my pride when all he did was reach around and grab the first-aid kit. He applied some ointment and a Blue Dinosaur Band-Aid. Had I finally pushed him completely away? Utterly embarrassed, I tugged my hand, but he wouldn’t let go.

  His firm lips pressed above the Band-Aid and I closed my eyes. Kisses feathered the inside of my arm and my breath hitched when he paused at the nape of my neck. The warmth from his body was tangible, the scent of his aftershave and cologne tangy sweet with a hint of musk.

  When I opened my eyes, Tank filled my vision. He was a hair’s breadth away from my mouth. If I moved even an inch I’d touch his lips with mine. I started to sway forward then caught myself. Tank was not who he said he was, and I needed a lot of answers to a lot of questions.

  I scrambled to collect my thoughts as I pushed at his chest. “Slow down, cowboy. We have to talk.” I stood and eased around him, toward the kitchen island.

  Tank remained in a crouched position for a few seconds more before rising to his feet. There was visible evidence he’d been affected by our closeness. Towering over me, he took up a lot of space in my little kitchen and I was sorely tempted to drag him up to our bedroom. Instead, I busied myself putting away ointment, and Band-Aids and… stuff.

  I hesitated when he came up beside me, but instead of hauling me into his arms, he started washing the dishes, which had been left so abruptly this morning. I grabbed a towel and began drying. While we worked in companionable silence, my mind whirred into overtime.

  I kept replaying what Neil said. “You blew your cover. I hope she was worth it.”

  Was cover had he blown, and was I worth it to him?

  As I put away the last dish, I heard the fridge door open and turned to see him holding a beer. He grabbed a second bottle, silently asking me if I wanted one. I nodded and took it from him. Drink in hand, I followed him to the living room where I curled in the big easy chair and waited while he paced.

  He took a long draw from his beer, pushed a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. The last time I’d seen him this jumpy was right before he met my family. Finally he stopped pacing and faced me.

  “You’ve obviously figured out I’m not a P.I.” He chuckled when he saw me roll my eyes.

  “Duh!”

  “I can’t give you a lot of details, I work for N.S.U.” He must have caught my puzzled look. “Name’s not important. It’s a small agency within a larger government branch. They recruited me right out of the military. Three years ago I came here on a job with my buddy Caleb and ran into Ben Grady. We’d all gone through basic together.”

  He finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Ben’s the one who insisted we go to the beach party where I met you. You kinda fell into my arms and I couldn’t let go.”

  At this beach party, Regis once again stalked me. When I’d gone to leave, as in run screaming, I’d stumbled into a solid wall. The wall turned out to be Tank, my knight in tattered jeans. Panicked, I begged him to pretend he was my boyfriend. What started as a ploy to get rid of Regis, ended up as reality.

  “When that job was done I requested to stay here and make this my home base. The P.I. thing was an excellent cover. It gave me an excuse to ask a lot of questions and not stick out in the crowd. So they set me up with a legitimate business and let us go to it.”

  That explained all the business trips, without me. The business trips I’d been convinced were for Tank to meet someone else. “You could have told me. I would have understood.”

  “No, darlin’, I couldn’t.”

  I finally voiced the fear which burned in me. “Did you leave me for another woman?”

  Did I even want to hear the answer?

  Tank sat on the coffee table and leaned toward me. “No. I didn’t. When I left and made you believe there was someone else… it cut my heart out. We have an agent, who’s been deep undercover in a crime syndicate for over seven years. The operative got wind my activities had spooked one paranoid pain in the butt, so I had to disappear for a while. If Carlos had become serious about checking me out, he’d have found you. Making it look like we split was the only way I knew to keep you safe.”

  Tank was a good actor. He’d fooled me and everyone I knew.

  “Well… It so happens that my ‘problem’ met a…premature death in New York.” Tank chuckled at my reaction. “Not by me. He apparently was making some extra bucks his boss didn’t know about and that was okay. But he was using the extra dough to buy gifts and trinkets for the boss’s mistress and that’s not okay.”

  Tank reached out and took hold of my hand, kissing the Band-Aid on my palm and then each finger individually. Between each sizzling kiss he spoke slow and soft. “I’m back for good.”

  Thirty thousand questions scrambled around my brain and it didn’t help that all my girly parts were waking up with his kisses. As much as I wanted—no—needed Tank to hold me tight and let nature take its natural course, we had to square away everything that happened the last few days.

  I needed answers, not sex. Liar, my libido growled, I needed both.

  I pulled my fingers from his warm grip, snatched up the empty beer bottles and carried them into the kitchen. I turned to go back to the living room and ran into the solid wall of his chest.

  Déjà vu, just like when I met him the first time on the beach.

  Big hands reached out and steadied me. My palms slid across his muscled torso on their own accord. It would be so easy to stand on tiptoe, kiss him and forget all the questions racing around my hormone driven mind. Sweep them under a rug and look at them later.

  I lifted my hands off his forearms. No. We were going to finish this talk and I had to keep a clear head. Stepping back a pace, I leaned with my back against the kitchen island. He gave me a look that promised more, but wisely, Tank slid around to sit on a stool at the island and waited.

  I rubbed my forehead, thinking about what Tank had shared. He hadn’t left me for another woman, but he also hadn’t trusted me enough to be honest and tell me the whole truth. It was as if I were a ribbon twisting with each new puff of air. If it was safe for Tank to come back to me why did someone try to kidnap me? I asked him that very question.

  “I’m not sure. I think it has more to do with Harrison.” He answered.

  “Harrison? Is he part of the crime syndicate?”

  “No, Harrison got in way over his head with someone we’ve come to refer to as the ‘Big Boss.’ He tried to use his daddy’s influence to squeeze out of it, but Big Boss wouldn’t let him go. I’ve been in contact with Harry for a couple of months now and we finally got everything in place so he could turn states evidence against this elusive piece of dirt.”

  While Tank spoke, I began fitting the pieces together in my mind. But my puzzle still had gaping holes in it.

  “How did I get involved in all this? You told me he was a suspect in a murder.”

  “I know. We figured Harry’s phone was tapped, so we had him call his parents weekly and talk about Lulu. Through Dang
o, my buddy with the L.A.P.D. whom you met just recently”—I rolled my eyes—”we created a cover story of Harrison getting friendly with a call girl and going A.W.O.L. when he was implicated in the murder. To make his disappearance look and feel legit we had Raymond call you to report him missing. We actually have Harry stashed away in a motel.”

  That explained the strange vibes I’d gotten from the Grants. It had all been an act. I knew it!

  Tank continued. “That way when I showed up to nose around it wouldn’t look suspicious, given our history.”

  While I digested this information, I replayed everything that had transpired over the past couple of days. “I went to L.A., searched Harrison’s condo and it was all for nothing…the hooker outfit…the call girls—” I stopped midsentence. “The call girls. I talked to some hookers. They knew Lulu and Harry. How can that be?”

  “I overheard you tell Polly you were going to find some hookers on the street so I had to rustle up some ‘girls’ for you to talk to. I owe huge favors to a couple of our female agents. The cars driving by were other agents making sure you believed them.” He pushed to his feet and paced like a caged animal. “I don’t know why I haven’t heard anything yet.”

  My eyes widened as a realization hit me. “If I intercepted a coded confirmation would I understand the message?”

  He stopped pacing. “Probably not. Why?”

  “Well, this morning, while you were in the shower, I answered your phone by mistake. The message was, enter a four digit code from your computer or something like that. I forgot to tell you in all the excitement.”

  He looked grim as he pulled out his laptop and placed it on the kitchen table. He waited, impatiently tapping the sides as it booted up. I watched as he opened file after file, entering codes and scanning information as it flashed across the screen. He pulled out his phone and entered some numbers, then went back to his laptop. Fixated on the various emotions crossing his face, I knew exactly when he reached the ‘ah ha’ moment.

  Then his brow furrowed again.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  His gaze remained vacant for a long moment and then he smiled. I knew in my bones he did that to reassure me. He shut the computer down and asked, “Do you want pizza?”