Ava Gray - Skin Game

“Smart.” Foster bit back a smile. “They got Capone on tax evasion, after all.”

“Precisely. Now I’m going home. This place better be in one piece when I get back.” Though Serrano’s tone seemed jocular enough, Foster knew he was being warned.

I’m watching you. You made one mistake already. One more, and you’re gone.

And Serrano didn’t exactly offer a retirement plan to those who knew firsthand how he did business. That might just be the politest death threat he’d ever received.

Once the asshole left, Foster put the word out that they were going legit for the foreseeable future. No trick dealing, no fixes on roulette. The dealers groaned a little because they depended on their extra cut of the skewed winnings, but that couldn’t be helped. He had to keep the man happy for a little while longer, however little he liked it.

Otherwise the night went smoothly enough, just the usual snafus. He ejected a few drunks, caught a few people trying to work a new system, after buying some e-book online that had foolproof in the title. In the morning, he headed out, glad to put some miles between him and the Silver Lady.

Lately he’d found the place oppressive, and since he’d been forced to sever a satisfying sexual arrangement, he felt restless and prickly. Foster had no pressing business, so in the predawn coolness, he drove back to his apartment for a shower, food, and sleep, in that order.

Out of pure reflex, he surveyed the parking lot, checked all the paths. Foster didn’t see anything out of place, no strange cars, no men lurking, and no sign of a tail. At that point, he left his vehicle and made for his building. Surprise sparked through him when he saw Mia sitting on the stairs, waiting for him.

Devoid of her usual high fashion, she wore black slacks and a matching pullover, almost as if she were dressed for a burglary. Doubtless that was her idea of what a woman wore for skulking around in the middle of the night. The dark colors should have made her skin look sallow. She should have looked frumpy. Instead she looked dangerous, and he wanted to touch her so badly he had to curl his hands into fists at his sides. He remembered she’d nearly kissed him, and for the first time in longer than he could recall, Foster could think of nothing to say.

She pushed to her feet. “You told me not to come to the casino again.”

“Right,” he agreed. “That would be a bad idea. Have you been here long?”

Stupid woman. Why couldn’t she stay put? She shouldn’t be roaming around at this hour.

Her being here was a bad idea, too, for several reasons. First off, he was tired and horny. He didn’t know if he could trust himself to be alone with her. There came a point when he just didn’t care what was right or fair; he could only think about what he wanted. Second, if someone was watching his place, they would’ve seen her by now, and he needed to keep her secret. She couldn’t be allowed to fall into Serrano’s hands. That would give him leverage.

“No, the cabbie dropped me off five minutes ago. I’m sorry for dropping by like this, but I wasn’t sure you’d take my call. Can I come up?” She actually seemed worried that she’d offended him with her unspeakable advances the other day.

Foster wanted to howl at the irony of it. What heterosexual male in his right mind refused to kiss a beautiful woman? Mentally he raised his hand and banged his head against a brick wall. No matter what she thought, it was for the best. The sooner she got out of his life, the better off they’d both be.

Regardless, they couldn’t talk there. He’d left the bug in place, letting it report innocuous activity. He hoped he’d bored the crap out of whoever was listening to him. Maybe the sorry son of a bitch was asleep right now, but he’d review the logs later. That had to be Serrano’s work, as the guy searched for some useful dirt. That was the way he worked. The Foundation would have moved on him long before now.

“That depends on what you want.”

“Protection,” she said baldly. “I think someone’s after me, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Kyra had a serious case of confusion going on. She couldn’t believe the crew Reyes had deputized. They’d started rolling in a little after eight, punkers and street thugs, all. They had an oddly alert air, though; none of them seemed to be junkies or ’heads, and they waited with good humor. Their leader, Apex, looked to her like a tropical fish, but he had a sharp mind, and he’d immediately gone to work on the laptop Reyes provided.

“You really think this will work?” she asked quietly.

Reyes studied her for a moment, somber, and his black eyes reminded her of a night without stars. “It has to. I’m out of ideas.”

She wasn’t overwhelmed with them, either. How hard they hit Serrano had to be tempered by her fear of what might happen to Mia caught in the crossfire. Kyra wished she’d never yielded to a weak impulse and confided in her friend. She’d never imagined Mia would come halfway around the world, trying to stop her, trying to help her. So much love and loyalty made her smile, even as worry gnawed a hole in her gut.

“I’m in,” Apex said, after what seemed like forever, listening to him click the keys. “His phone records are right here.”

Reyes took over the laptop then. “What’s Mia’s cell number?”

She thought it unlikely he’d have called her from his landline, but you never knew. She didn’t spot it among the numbers called. Apex was skimming down the list over Reyes’s shoulder. “Look, he’s called this number twelve times in two days.”

“You think he might be giving orders to guys guarding her?” Kyra asked.

“Can you find out who that number belongs to?” Reyes asked.

The hacker smiled. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Reyes eased away from the laptop while Apex’s boys milled around the loft. They’d complained about the lack of entertainment until their boss reminded them they were on a job, not here to have fun. Apex sat down again.

A few clicks and he said, “The number’s unlisted, give me a minute.” True to his word, he didn’t take much longer before adding, “Bobby Rabinowitz. Serrano’s been burning up the phone lines calling his money man.”

“He’s worried,” Reyes guessed. “Checking out his options if he has to flee, how much money he can liquidate quickly.”

“Because of the cop Apex said was leaning on him?” Kyra frowned. That didn’t track with what she knew of Gerard Serrano. He was one tough son of a bitch, and he didn’t scare easy. This wouldn’t be the first time the police had looked his way.

“I don’t think he’s chatting with Rabinowitz because of Sagorski,” Apex said.

She ran her hand through her hair, unnerved by the dark hue. “Then what?”

“If I knew that, I’d charge for the answer.” Apex grinned, and for the first time, she noticed he had eyes that shone like slivers of jade.

“He calls this number a fair amount, too.” She leaned forward, touching the screen as she counted. “Six times in the last few days.”

“That’s Foster’s cell,” Reyes said.

Kyra sighed. “So no help there.”

“Here’s another one.” Apex pointed. “Four times. Either of you recognize it?”

“No.” They spoke in unison.

“Then let’s see who else he’s been talking to.” The hacker went to work, running the number through a series of programs. “Prepaid cell phone. Damn.”

“That sounds like one of your colleagues,” she said to Reyes. “You think?”

“Could be Van Zant,” he admitted.

They’d never know because he’d buried the guy with his cell. Serrano might be calling a man who was six-feet deep, his phone vibrating away in his pants pocket. That image struck Kyra as more than a little macabre.