Damaged Hope (Street Games Book 3) Page 11

  Angra snorted loudly. “Of course there is. I’m not at all convinced you didn’t set up this little coup yourself.”

  Josie’s eyes widened, but anger took over immediately. He stepped forward and spoke through clenched teeth, so angry he trembled. “Dat would endanger our business relationship, Angra. I want your business far too much. I make considerably more money dat way dan by stealing some damn financial football.”

  Angra appeared utterly unmoved. “Prove it,” he said flatly.

  Minutes later, they all fanned out into the Mire. Kyra merely did as directed. Outside the warehouse, Josie’s man—who Kyra heard someone call Brando—split them into groups and gave them sectors of the surrounding Mire to search.

  Kyra moved down dark alleys, gun drawn, searching every shadow and crevice with her fellow guards. No one spoke, and the hour had grown late enough that, especially in this part of the Mire, little movement and less sound could be observed.

  Kyra wondered at the point of this exercise. It felt contrived. How could Josie or Angra be sure the thief remained in this part of the Mire? She certainly wouldn’t be. Not that she’d be stupid enough to try and steal Angra’s case, or smart enough to know what to do with it if she did. Whoever stole it must be smart, so why wouldn’t they have simply run? They might be miles away by now. Surely Angra knew that.

  Kyra turned down a particular alley and walked along its length. Three other guards did the same. They’d spread out, nearly twenty feet between each of them, and two on either side of the alley, which only reached ten feet in width here.

  A scratching noise came from Kyra’s left. She spun silently toward it, pointing her gun toward the sound. She saw nothing. Only the wall of the alley, made up of brick. Really nowhere to hide. Perhaps a rodent scurried by.

  Déjà vu hit Kyra like a hammer. She recognized this place, but couldn't place it. She must have passed through here before at some point since arriving in the Mire. As she continued to search, she wracked her brain for when.

  The pieces clicked when her eyes fell on a small, dark depression in the wall. Only a shadowy crevice. Kyra remembered this place. If one lay on the ground, a tunnel opened up that couldn't be seen when standing. This part of the wall was composed of wooden add-ons to the original structure. The negative space between the add-ons created a hidden niche. After shooting Norse, she and Gabe ran from his gang buddies and eventually hid in it. She’d discovered it months before, and it saved her and Gabe’s life. She'd forgotten about it since.

  The scratching sound came again. Its source remained invisible, but this time she understood. Someone hid in the same niche she and Gabe had used.

  She turned and waved her arms until the guard closest to her noticed. Murky darkness cloaked the alley. Red light spilled in from a neighboring street, and when the man glanced her way, she recognized Brando. They’d ended up searching the same stretch. She pointed to the spot where the alcove lay. Brando stepped toward her, scanning the spot she’d pointed to. He frowned, like she'd pointed at a shopping mall.

  She rolled her eyes, more at herself than him. Of course a blank stretch of alley meant nothing to someone who didn’t know the alcove lay there.

  She crossed the short distance between them and went up on her tiptoes to get her lips as close to his ear as possible, speaking in a whisper only he could hear. “There’s a hidden space behind this wall. Someone’s hiding in it.” She lowered her heels to the ground.

  The man towered above her, looking critical. “You sure?” he whispered, matching her volume.

  She nodded and went up on her toes again. “I’ve hidden in it myself before.”

  He nodded, motioning to the other two guards, who’d paused to watch her and Brando, to come toward them. The four of them put their heads together, and once again Brando used a tone no one outside their little pow wow could possibly have heard. He explained the situation and instructed the other two to keep searching the street, but stay within a ten foot stretch of the alcove Kyra pointed out. “Be ready to pounce in case they get spooked and make a run for it. You,” he pointed to Kyra, “come with me.”

  She obeyed, following him out of the alley. He led her back to the warehouse where the meeting between Josie and Angra took place. Both men stood, backs to their respective SUVs, glaring at one another and surrounded by a small contingent of guards. When Angra demanded Josie join the search, he hadn’t meant for either of them to actually search the Slip Mire with their workers. Obviously.

  When Josie noticed them coming, he straightened, looking eager. “What have you found?” He threw a suspicious glance at Kyra.

  “This woman says there’s a hidden recess behind one of the alley walls. Someone is hiding in there now.”

  Josie snorted. “A hidden alcove in the wall of a Slip Mire alley? Absurd. Why would you know about this when no one else does?”

  The last, he directed at Kyra.

  “I’ve hidden there before. Others do know about it. Probably not many. I found it by accident months ago. Later, I had…bad people on my tail, and so I made use of it.”

  Josie regarded her suspiciously. “And if you can’t see this hidden place, how do you know someone is hiding in it?”

  “I heard scratching, coming from behind the wall, I think. I stood directly in front of where it is.”

  “We can’t be sure if it’s what we’re looking for," Josie said. "Could be a junkie or street doll who saw us coming and wanted to avoid trouble.”

  Kyra frowned. Why was he being so stubborn? He didn’t like her, but checking out something like this made sense, didn’t it? “You’re right,” she said carefully. “It could be. Shouldn’t we be sure? What if the case is in there? If not, we keep searching.”

  Josie shot her a murderous look.

  "The other two in our group are guarding the spot," Brando said, "without being obvious. I came to get back up in case the thief is packing heavy fire. Or there's more than one person in there. The four of us alone might have been overwhelmed."

  "There's probably not room for more than one person in there. The space can hold two. But it'd be a tight fit, and with a case that big, I'd bet only one."

  Even Brando frowned at Josie in confusion. Kyra, it seemed, wasn't the only one confused by Josie's behavior.

  Josie still stared at her like he wanted to peel the skin from her face.

  “The young woman is right.” Kyra felt the presence at her elbow and assumed it to be another guard. When she turned toward the voice, she registered mild shock to find Angra standing over her. He’d come up behind her to listen. “If not many know of this recess, it would be the perfect place to hide with my property. Why are you so opposed to searching it, Josie?”

  Josie shifted his angry gaze from Kyra to Angra. By the time it reached the other man, it flattened into calm pacifism. “I’m not. By all means, let’s search. I don’t want you to be disappointed if it’s not what we hope. This one," he nodded toward Kyra, "isn’t my brightest worker.”

  No response would have been smart. Kyra didn’t even want to give one. Such a strange dig at a time like this. What was Josie doing? Shouldn’t he be sucking up to Angra right now? She put her gaze on the ground, hoping she appeared more submissive than confused.

  When she glanced up at Angra, she found him looking her up and down. Not in a sexual way, she didn’t think. More like sizing her and the situation up. Kyra dropped her gaze once more.

  Angra stepped so close she felt him breathing down on her, and lifted her chin with his pointer finger, forcing her to look up into his face. Her heart pounded. His eyes bored into her, and she somehow knew this man's powers of perception were strong. She shouldn't let him look into her face. He would see too much. After a handful of seconds, she jerked her chin to the left, enough to get away from his finger. And his gaze.

  Andra chuckled softly, a sound like something thudding in the bottom of a well. “You’re wrong Josie. She may be your most intelligent worker.” He turned his h
ead toward where Josie still glared at them. “Probably smarter than you.”

  Kyra cringed inwardly. Josie didn’t know how to rise above manipulation. Especially when it concerned his ego. Shut up, Dude. You’re gonna make my life hell.

  Angra glanced down at her again in a salaciously appreciative way. Okay, maybe his gaze was sexual after all. “Come.” He said it loudly enough to make her jump, then strode toward the alley Kyra and Brando came from. His guards fell in around him.

  Kyra felt relieved when he stepped away. Josie lunged up to her, glaring murderously down into her face, and a fear of a different sort took over. Josie’s angry gaze didn’t make her heart beat with the same fear as Angra’s. Josie wasn’t perceptive enough. No, this fear lodged in deeper, subtler places. It seeped into her cells and made her joints weak. Perhaps Angra’s words made no difference. For some reason, her pushing for them to check the hidden spot had royally pissed Josie off. She wished she understood why.

  Josie oozed fury for a handful of seconds before whirling abruptly and following Angra into the Mire. Josie’s guards fell in around him, and Kyra followed.

  She supposed Josie’s anger might simply be because of Angra’s insult. He’d lost face in front of a colleague and saw it as her fault. Him being the one truly at fault hardly mattered. Yet, something else was going on here she couldn’t put her finger on yet. She was sure she hadn't heard the end of it.

  They made their way through the Mire in silence, other than the muted thud of their feet on the pavement. Angra’s group walked fifty feet ahead of Josie's. They would reach the correct alley first.

  Just as Angra's group reached the mouth of the alley up ahead, a cry rang out, followed by gun fire.

  Josie stopped in his tracks. “Go,” he yelled.

  Brando ran into the alley. Kyra and two others followed him. The rest stayed with Josie. Angra’s guards flattened him against the wall outside the mouth of the alley. Several of them joined Kyra’s group and ran toward the sounds.

  The scene waiting for them looked eerily similar to the one they’d seen back in the warehouse when the computer case first disappeared. This time, only one man lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Angra’s case sat on the ground beside his head. One of the guards Kyra and Brando left behind, a dark-haired woman who looked to be a few years older than Kyra, still pointed her gun at the dead man. A tiny tendril of smoke rose lazily from its barrel.

  “What happened?” Brando demanded.

  She dropped her arms so the gun pointed at the ground and shrugged. “Must have been what you said. He got suspicious that we'd searched the area for so long. Made a run for it.”

  Brando nodded. "Looks like you were right."

  Kyra looked at Brando, unsure who he addressed, and raised an eyebrow in surprise when she found him gazing at her. He looked impressed. She didn't know what to say, so remained silent.

  Brando whispered instructions to one of the men behind him. Seconds later, Josie and Angra pushed their way forward.

  “Well,” Angra said. “A positive outcome, it seems.” His voice held anger, but he did seem to be pleased.

  “Yes, so it does seem,” Josie answered, looking anything but happy. He cut his eyes sideways to glare at Kyra again.

  Angra motioned to one his people and a thickly-muscled man came forward to pick up the case. “Our business is at an end for this evening,” Angra said, not bothering to look at Josie. “I’ll call you when it needs to be resumed." He stalked from the alley, followed by his people.

  Josie, Kyra, and the other guards were left alone with the dead man.

  Silence reigned for so long, awkwardness descended. Silence like fury.

  "Everyone back to the cars,” Josie finally said his voice too calm. His people shuffled toward the mouth of the alley.

  “Not you,” Josie snapped, when Kyra reached where he stood.

  She shut her eyes. Shit.

  When everyone else had gone, Kyra turned to find that Brando remained as well.

  Josie balled his fist and swung, hitting her square in the face. The world fused and lurched and a second blow landed on her left ear. It took three seconds to get her bearings, and realize she lay on the ground. The second blow had come from the pavement itself.

  “Get her up.” Josie’s voice sounded as though it came from the other end of a long alley.

  A strong hand grabbed the front of her black hoodie and lifted her off her feet. Her back pressed up against a cold stone wall. It was Brando. Pressing across her upper chest from shoulder to shoulder, his forearm kept her upright.

  Josie’s contorted face filled her vision. “What de hell was dat, bitch?”

  “Thought you wanted,” Kyra gasped, “us to find the—”

  “Your job,” Josie shouted, “is not to do what dat asshole wants. It’s to make me look good.”

  In Kyra's mind, it clicked. Angra had been right. Josie had set up the theft of the case. He’d been so resistant because he hadn’t expected anyone to know about the hidden niche. If not for Kyra, they might have searched the Mire all night and found nothing. The man with the case could have hidden there for days. She’d screwed up big time by 'discovering' it.

  Anger churned in her chest at the unfairness of it all. How the hell could she have known his evil plan? Josie was worse than a whiny teenage girl who expected her boyfriend to read her mind. Not that any of that would save her from Josie's ire now.

  The gangster balled his fist again and slammed it into her abdomen. Acidic bile leapt into her throat. She would have doubled over if Brando's arm hadn't pinned her to the wall.

  She looked up into Brando's face. His eyes were bright and intelligent. Though his face looked hard, she thought she saw a twinge of regret in his eyes. Resignation overpowered it, though. Even if he disagreed with his boss's decisions, Brando was loyal to Josie, and that was that.

  Josie paced aggressively away, then back again. Then away. His fists balled and un-balled. His shoulders trembled with wrath. He looked angry enough to kill her.

  Returning, he stuck his face in hers again.

  “I don’t want to see your face for at least three days. You’ll receive no payment dis week. Count yourself lucky I don’t have Brando beat you to death right here.”

  Kyra glanced involuntarily at Brando. His eyes rested on Josie, but he seemed to sense her gaze and shifted them to her. Utter calm stared out from them. Kyra would have shivered if she hadn't been gasping for breath.

  “Maybe after dat, if I’m feeling magnanimous,” Josie continued, “I’ll let you continue work.”

  He leaned closer. So close his forehead brushed hers. She felt it under her skin like oily residue. “Every day you work for me and I don't kill you, is a run of good luck for you, Bitch. Understand?”

  Kyra couldn't nod because Brando’s forearm choked her. Josie didn’t seem to want a response, though. He nodded at Brando, who simply stepped backward, dropping his arm to his side.

  Kyra dropped to their feet like a sack of grain.

  Her vision tunneled as she gulped air. By the time it cleared, she sat alone with a corpse and the silence of the Mire. Not even the echoes of their footsteps remained.

  Chapter 9

  Kyra managed to limp back to her hotel without further incident. She’d considered calling Gabe to come get her. She knew her ribs were badly bruised, but not broken, and she didn’t want him insisting she go to the hospital again. She would call him once she’d gotten back, showered, and gotten some sleep. She would tell him everything that happened, though. She was through keeping things from him.

  She entered the hotel through a side door. As she neared her room, she noticed man walking casually toward her from the opposite direction. Brown, curly hair peeked out from the hood of his dark blue sweatshirt. He kept his eyes down. Most likely a guest of the hotel or perhaps a visitor to one of the rooms, who wanted to leave without being noticed. Kyra couldn't help but go into stealth mode until he passed, though. After he dis
appeared around the corner, she fished her key card out of her pocket.

  She inserted the key into the slot, waited for the green light, and pushed the door open.

  The rapid swish of fabric growing louder registered less than a second before something slammed into her back, hurling her six feet forward into the darkness of the room. Her bruised abdomen screamed in pain as her knees skidded across the industrial carpet and her grocery bag thudded to the ground. The door shut firmly, cloaking her in darkness.

  Kyra leapt into action, not wanting to be in the same spot her attacker had last seen her. Lunging to her feet with waist slightly bent and hands out at thigh level, she felt for the bed. She found it and made her way into the corner, reaching for the gun holstered at her ankle. Her hands were numb from the blow to her back, and she struggled to pull the gun free.

  The sound of breathing whispered ominously from the doorway. Kyra whirled to face the intruder, whipping her gun up to shoulder height and finding the trigger. A scant bit of light came in through the slit in the curtains. Kyra’s eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness.

  The lights came up, blinding her. Her eyes slammed shut involuntarily. She heard it though, the sound of shoes on the industrial carpet, dragging like a zipper. She raised her gun and fired blindly toward the sound.

  Two strong hands gripped her wrists and swung them sideways, slamming them into the wall. Pain exploded from Kyra’s locked elbows, radiating up to her armpits. Everything below the elbow went dead. She didn’t feel her fingers release the gun, but a dull thud came from below as it hit the carpet.

  Her attacker swung her around toward the wall, so he held her from behind. Powerful fingers clamped around her wrists, forcing her to cross her arms over her chest.

  “Let go!” she screeched through the pain.

  “Relax Kyra,” a suave voice fell into her ear. Chills undulated down her spine. Her heart plummeted to her stomach. She’d know that voice anywhere.

  “Chris?”

  “Play nice, Kyra.” He loosened his grip and swung her around to face him, slamming her back into the wall once more and pressing her wrists into her stomach. The man in the dark blue hoodie from the hallway stood there.