Into the Shadows Page 6

  I backed away from the door and turned to admire some stupid painting. Sarah came out a minute later; her smile couldn't quite hide the worry in her eyes. We went back to the elevator; I noticed that only the buttons from 36 to 39 were lit, as well as G1. I assumed it didn't make any stops on any of the other floors. We didn't speak on the ride back down, each of us reliving her phone call. I was kind of intense?

  LATINO

  Sarah and I went back down the long hallway and through the opaque sliding doors. Only a few steps out into the parking garage, we saw four male teenagers - thugs, bangers, punks, delinquents, take your pick. They were an odd mix, though; two were black, one white, and the last one was a short Latino. Two were near the sedans to the right, and two to the left, all about fifteen yards from us. They all had knives of various types in their hands, and every single car tire was flat. Oh wonderful.

  "How you doin' tonight, man?" the Latino asked me.

  I gauged each of them quickly by their posture and how they carried themselves - confident, and no strangers to violence. I didn't like my odds. "I was doing okay until I found out we'd be taking a taxi home. How are you?"

  All of them grinned. The Latino kid smiled wide at his friends and said, "I like that guy - he's all polite an' shit." He looked back to me. "We're doin' real good, man, thanks for askin'. Hold up, wait a second; sorry, I take it back. We do got one little problem."

  I felt the chances of Sarah and I walking away get thinner. "Look, man, we really don't want to be your problem. We can pay you for the fine work you've done on the tires, and then we'll call it a night, okay?"

  The teens laughed, hopefully at my little joke. I stepped in front of Sarah and said over my shoulder for her to get back near the doors.

  "Nah, man," the Latino said with a chuckle, "the air pressure checks are on the house. But the 'fine work' we done don't really solve our problem. You understand?"

  "Alright, you've got a problem. How can I help you fix it?" I noticed a couple of them had gun butts sticking out of their pants. Shit.

  "You can help us by walkin', man," the Latino said as he put his knife into an inner pocket of his Kansas City Chiefs coat. "We don't got no problem with you. In fact, we like you, man, so you can go get that taxi. We just got a little problem with your bitch."

  I wanted to turn and ask Sarah if she knew those fuck-heads, but I would have been distracting myself. "Sorry, guys," I said with a sigh, "then you've got a problem with me, too."

  "Aw, look at that," the Latino said with a wide smile to the others, "our boy's all noble an' shit! See, that's cool an' all, man, but we're gonna fix our little problem one way or the other, you got it?"

  "Yeah, I got it." I turned my head and yelled over my shoulder, "Get back inside!" I heard the doors hiss as the four teens moved slowly toward me. I pulled my Ruger out of my pocket and aimed it at the closest guy, the one on my left. They all stopped.

  "Aw, man, you just made things difficult for me," the Latino said. "That bitch had something I wanted, and I ain't talkin' pussy, man." He slowly put a hand into his front pocket. I swiveled my gun to the right, pointing in his general direction. He put up his other hand as if to tell me he wasn't pulling a weapon. "Now you owe me, man. And I wanna hear you say it. Say, 'I owe Pedro', loud n' clear."

  "Fine, I owe Pedro."

  Pedro pulled his hand out of his pocket. He didn't have a gun - he had a fucking grenade. Where the hell does a punk kid get a grenade from? The other three backed up as I tried to focus my aim on Pedro's forearm. In the blink of an eye, he pulled the pin and tossed it at me. Damn, he was fast. I let off a round, probably hitting him but not sure where, and then ran and dove for cover behind a car to my left.

  The grenade was a smoker. I swung over the trunk of a car and aimed. Even through the smoke I could see the four fuck-heads halfway down the garage lane and still running, way out of range for my gun. I stayed low to keep the smoke out of my eyes and went over to the double doors. I tapped on one of them and yelled, "All clear". A second later, the doors hissed open and I hurried inside, telling Sarah to shut the doors so none of the lingering smoke could roll in. What a shitty night.

  NERVOUS

  "What was that all about?" Sarah asked me.

  "I was about to ask you the same thing. Do you know those guys?"

  "Shit, no! Why would I have anything to do with a gang?"

  "I don't know why, because I don't know you, Sarah. All I do know is that they were looking for you."

  "I haven't done anything to piss anyone off, Leo. Honest," she said as she put her hands on my forearm.

  I gently pulled away and looked out the doors, even though I couldn't see anything. "I think they had something to do with that power flicker. Maybe they cut a main camera feed line, I don't know. Did you want to call the cops, or at least alert building security?"

  "I'll make a call in a minute. I just want to make sure you don't view me or the company in a poor light because of this. It's just bad timing or bad coincidence . . . bad something. This is a really good place to work, I promise." I didn't answer, so she took a different tact. "Would you like to go see your loft?"

  "Do you think it's safe?" I asked sarcastically. "Hell, Sarah, with the way things are going tonight, I don't want to risk it. I can look at the place some other time. I don't really want to move out of my house, anyway. I like it there."

  "Oh, I'm sure they could work something out," she said, moving closer to me. "Come on, I'll get us a cab, alright?" She led me back to the elevators, up to the 36th floor again, over to a different set of elevators, and took one down to the main lobby. How fucking tedious. I hardly said a word the whole time. She stepped away to make some calls while I told the guard at the front desk about what happened. Yep, the security feeds were cut; not bad for some punks.

  Sarah came back over to me, smiling nervously. "A cab should be here soon," she said.

  I led her away from the security desk and over to the glass front doors. "Sarah, you're nice, and you're fun, but I'll ask for someone else to show me the loft, if I even want to see it."

  "What? Why?" she asked fretfully.

  "Don't worry; I'll say you were great - and you were, really - so you don't have to worry about getting in trouble or losing your job or anything. No offense, but it's just that now I think you're bad luck." She had a look of shock and real worry; she opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "I think I'll just walk home, it's not too far. Good night, Sarah."

  I hurried out of the door and away from the building. Once I was around a corner, I called my neighbor Hector and asked for a ride. Walk home over eight miles when it's below freezing? Screw that.

  WAKES

  It had snowed a few inches overnight, so I went over and shoveled Hector's driveway in the morning to repay his favor. Then I did the same for Miss Loretta's driveway and sidewalk, just so I wouldn't worry about her. While I shoveled, I thought about the two wakes I was going to attend that evening. Craig's was earlier than Dan's, so I could get to both. It wasn't like I wanted to go, though. It was a crappy way to spend an evening, and I didn't want to dwell on it.

  I went inside and made the call to Ms. Rondeau that I promised Sarah I would. I gave her praise and said that she wasn't responsible for the security breach. I'm not sure how true that was, but I said it anyway. Then I was asked if I'd made any decision concerning Realm Management. I explained that I had some personal matters to attend to for the next couple of days (wakes and funerals) and I'd have an answer afterwards. If they were too corporate to sympathize, well then, too damn bad.

  The rest of the day was spent just on me. Sounds selfish, right? So what - I felt I'd earned it. And no, I didn't go get a pedicure or scarf down a box of bonbons. I worked out in my basement, had a couple drinks, did some shooting at the gun range, had a couple drinks, trained on padded dummies at the dojo, had a couple drinks, and then went for a haircut. I ruined my work out by eating fast food for dinner. Then I reluctantly got re
ady to go to the wakes. Throughout the whole day, though, I wondered why I kept having dreams of some mysterious hot blonde I'd never met.

  Both wakes were depressing, as you might expect. Nearly all of the Silas employees showed up to them. I knew from talking to Diego on the phone that he was still healing up and couldn't be there. John Crane pressed me about my other job offer and tried to sweeten my employment with him in little ways. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him.

  Also making an appearance at both wakes was Stanley Everett, his wife, and the two other couples that survived his dinner party. They all shook my hand, as well as Cordell's. Everett again stated his offer of assistance if I needed anything. I pulled him aside, telling him of the offer from Realm Management. I told him that his name was mentioned during a meeting. Since he had dealings with the company, I wanted his perspective before I made my decision to join them.

  Everett frowned with a troubled look. He pointed out that his work with them was purely financial; my intended position was much more hands-on, so few comparisons could be made. His company had recently cut ties with some divisions of Realm's operations, so his current view wasn't favorable. Everett also suspected that I might be used by them for 'clandestine' tasks.

  Okay, not a ringing endorsement. I wanted Gwen's reaction, so I found her in the crowd at Craig's wake. We sat on a bench in the foyer of the funeral home. I sipped from my flask while she cleaned spots from her large, round eyeglasses. I saw a mole on her chin that I'd never noticed before, but obviously didn't mention it. Other than to dress professionally, Gwen didn't care what others thought of her appearance.

  I quietly repeated Everett's information and opinions, and asked if there was anything else she could add to it. "From a rumor I heard," Gwen commented as she wiped at her thick glasses with a napkin, "a major division within Realm had some sort of falling out with Everett Financial after some other low-key investor got involved. There's a whisper that whoever that Realm division leader was, they hired mercs from out of town to hit Everett. I don't know if that story holds water, though."

  "A hit squad, over business deals going sour? Sounds like overkill to me."

  "Yeah, petty to the nth, right?" she said with her strange smirk. "Like a child queen who yells 'Off with their heads' to anyone who looks at her wrong."

  I held off taking another sip to grin at her. "I bet you like those kinds of stories."

  "What can I say," Gwen said with a shrug, "I'm a romantic."

  I chuckled at her odd sense of humor and then took a drink. We sat for a few seconds in silence before I commented, "Working for Realm is sounding less and less appealing."

  "Unless you're only interested in money," she said casually. "I'm sure they pay well and offer lots of perks. In the opinion of certain circles, though, the company is morally gray." She frowned at me. "Or is it ethically gray? Oh well, either way, they're gray."

  "Hell, Gwen, you're morally gray."

  She shrugged and put her glasses on. "True, but my priorities are different. I couldn't care less about money and power like Realm does. I care about certain things, and everything else doesn't matter."

  "Oh really," I said as she stood up. "And what are those certain things?"

  "A girl doesn't reveal all her secrets, dummy," Gwen replied while she smoothed her pantsuit. "Don't worry, Leo; I have a list, and you and a few others are somewhere on it. But I'll warn you: your name will get moved if we stop having our fun little chats."

  "Yes, ma'am," I said with a grin.

  "Good. Now, I'm going to go find Crane and see if I can make him cry."

  UNINVITED

  The next morning's weather matched the mood of Dan's funeral - gloomy and subdued. The timing of his and Craig's burials were too close together, so I couldn't attend both. I knew Dan longer, so, there ya go. I got home and felt numb, like I did after military funerals. I didn't even want a drink.

  Since it was a Friday, but right about the time people with regular jobs went to lunch, I decided it was the best time to call Dominique Rondeau and politely decline her job offer. A little while later, Keegan called; he knew I just went to the services of a couple guys I knew from my other job. Since there was a band that weekend, he'd have steroid Mac at the door and he'd bar-back. Everything was covered, so I had the weekend off and he'd see me the week after unless I decided to stop in for a drink. I couldn't have asked for a much nicer boss, which made me feel better for following my instincts about Realm.

  I turned my phone off and took a nap. I felt lazy when I woke up, and puttered around the house in just sweats and an old USMC t-shirt. I did a little cleaning with the ol' Pledge, made myself a simple dinner, and zoned out on crappy TV shows while nursing a strong drink. Just before the ten o'clock news came on, I was jolted out of my haze by a knock on my front door. My first thought was of Hector or Miss Loretta when I jumped up to answer it.

  When I pulled my door open, I immediately realized it wasn't one of my neighbors. Holding my screen door open was a young woman; I shifted so that the lamp light from behind me fell on her face.

  "Hi there," she said happily with a smile. "I do remember saying that we might meet again."

  A little shorter than average, wavy brunette hair, very pretty, lots of cleavage - it was the hottie from the bar I helped out a couple weeks before. "Hey, I remember you. You're . . . uh . . ."

  "Macie, I'm Macie. Really, Leo, I thought I'd left more of an impression!" On that last word, she suddenly thrust both of her palms into my chest, and I literally went flying backwards. I landed hard on my back, between my polished coffee table and my old TV. I wasn't expecting an attack, let alone one from a girl who was strong enough to launch me halfway through my living room. I was stunned, more from her strength than anything else.

  As I was trying to sit up, Macie stepped inside. Immediately after her were two guys in black coats with the Realm logo on them; they moved past her and moved to either side of the room. Both had taser guns. My attention was brought back to my front door, where another guy in slacks and a sweater came in like he was an honored guest. It was the pissed off pretty boy from the upscale bar, except he didn't look very pretty anymore. One side of his face looked like it was pressed against an electric stove burner while it was hot; there was a pattern of charred, half-circle burns from cheek to forehead. Ouch.

  Macie shut the front door behind her and leaned against it. The taser guys stayed where they were. The formerly-pretty boy took a few steps toward me, looking royally pissed. My little Ruger was on the end table behind me and to my right, next to my phone and the only lit lamp in the room. My other guns were back in my bedroom. The only other weapons were knives in the kitchen back behind me. The tasers pointed at me would've lit me up before I could get off my ass anyway, so I was screwed.

  ABDUCTION

  "You interfered with my hunt," the guy with the ugly burns growled at me. "I'm going to have some retribution before we move on."

  "Don't have too much fun, Evan," Macie said as she checked her painted nails. "I'm quite sure that the Doyenne's orders specified that Mr. Beck be delivered in good condition."

  Evan turned his head back to her and said, "You're just concerned that your debt to her won't be considered paid if he isn't." He half-turned her way and pointed a finger at her. "You're not one of us, so I don't care -"

  My leg sweep interrupted Evan, and the heel of my other foot that caught him in the hip was enough to send him sprawling into my bookshelf. I jumped to my feet, aware that I was about to be tasered. But I'd be damned if I was going out without giving a douche like Evan a good whack.

  No tasers, no mind-numbing shock like I expected. Macie was holding a hand up, palm forward, signaling the men not to shoot. I glanced between her and Evan; he was glaring daggers at me while he slowly got up, and she was giggling. "I told you to be careful, didn't I?"

  "Shut up, Macie," Evan said with a petulant snarl.

  "In fact, I told you to just let the mortals take care of
it. That's why I charmed them on the way over; I knew you'd do something impulsive, selfish and stupid."

  I had no clue what they were talking about, and didn't care. The only things I wondered was how much of a conspiracy was going on to bring two vaguely familiar faces to my door, and why they planned on abducting me. "Hey, Evan," I said, getting his attention, "you were on the hunt for a middle-aged woman? Is that the best you can do? Can't keep up with the younger gals, eh, pal? The reason I cut in was because you were grinding on her like she was your mom." Yeah, I wanted to piss him off.

  It worked. Evan was in front of me before I could put my hands up. I caught a punch in the gut, but it wasn't a good shot because his stance was off and he didn't have much of a physique to back it up. He was quick, though. On the other hand, he was cocky, and probably thought his punch would drop me.

  I slapped him with an open palm right on his facial burns. Yeah, you could say it was a bitch-slap, but I was simply trying to hit as much of his wound as I could. Evan flinched and yelled in pain. I wanted more distance between us, so I put my weight into a front kick that caught him in the chest and sent him stumbling back to the front wall. The impact knocked the picture of my brother Al off its nail.

  Macie laughed. Evan glared at her before he turned his bright eyes to me. Yes, bright; his eyes were nearly glowing. Two other things I noticed real quick: one, he wasn't breathing hard at all, and two, his momentary snarl showed two very pronounced canine teeth. I didn't know what I was dealing with, but I knew it wasn't normal. In my house was a busty teenager with superhero strength - although she was more like one of the bad guys - and a scarred pretty boy with corny Dracula teeth.