Page 12 of Unhallowed Murder
“Lay one on me.”
Whoever finally ends up with Jamison Carter is going to be a lucky, lucky girl. His lips landed on Ronnie’s, his arms leaned her back and held her in place, and she melted in his arms. Mostly, it was for show, but this was an excuse to get into it, and she tried to ignore the vampire in her head so she could enjoy her few moments of stolen pleasure. Kissing like this was safe because it wasn’t going to go any further.
The waitress had just brought their food when Sergeant Perry’s gruff voice vibrated through her earpiece. “Flores. Entering the parking lot in an older model red Toyota Supra. He has two men with him. Neither are Ramirez.”
Ronnie stole one of Carter’s fried mushrooms and then hand fed him a bite of her Buffalo wing. She made him pose for a couple of silly selfies, cajoling him like a girlfriend might, and the dude on the other side of the bar finally stopped watching them like a hawk.
Most people look at Detective Jamison Carter and a see large black man with a shaved head and enough muscles tohave played college football, and they’re right, but they miss the part where he got a psychology degree with a minor in criminal justice while football paid for his college education.
Ronnie’s hackles went up when Flores walked by and she picked up his scent. He’d been in Wendy’s bedroom. She couldn’t tell her team, but sheknew.
Flores stopped three tables away from them, across from a man who’d been sitting alone. Flores gave a brief nod of respect, said, “Tigre,” and waited for the older man to motion for him to sit before he made a move. A show of respect and deference.
Ronnie bumped Carter with her shoulder while they ate, a signal that she could hear Flores and Tigre’s conversation. The men knew she could hear things they couldn’t, though they didn’t know just how much she could hear.
“Fuckin’ smurfs are looking for Spyder,” Flores told Tigre. “He stayin’ with some cunt in the Knob. Gonna git himself dead.”
“We need him, Calacas. You can’t kill him.”
Flores looked across the room like a petulant toddler who’d just been told it was bedtime and was scheming his way out of it. Some of these men were nothing but overgrown babies, throwing tantrums with guns when they didn’t get their way.
“Yousurehe won’t turn on us? He brought family in who ratted — he got no call to threaten me for taking care ofhisfuckup!”
“I’ll handle him, but you were supposed to take care of her. Raping her was uncalled for and you know it.”
“She had to be taught a lesson. You’d rather I killed the cunt?”
Tigre’s eyes flashed. “You didn’t?”
“No, esé! I fucked her to warn her she need to keep her cunt mouth shut!”
The older man shook his head, as if he didn’t understand the younger generation. “Then who the fuck killed her?”
“I bent her over her goddamned bed, fucked both her holes, and warned there’d be fuckloads of mothahfuckers workin’ them holes if she gabbed to the smurfs again.”
Ronnie’s blood pressure went through the roof, and she let the cat inside her calm her nerves. Most people had to contain their animals, while Ronnie’s tiger counselled her to be patient. Cats are predators, and they excel at waiting until just the right moment to make their move.
She put her mouth near Carter’s shoulder to be sure no one read her lips, and softly asked, “Do we know who he’s talking to? No one’s mentioned Tigre, but it sounds like he’s higher up than Flores. I thought Flores was in charge?”
Jamison kissed the top of her head and moved his lips closer to her ear. “I don’t remember Tigre’s legal name. He keeps a low profile, but it’s rumored he’s the leader behind the scenes. We haven’t been able to substantiate that, as far as I know, and Flores always seemed to be in charge.”
Ronnie turned and inhaled, but she only picked up the scent of the wolves she’d smelled when she first walked in — the bartender and at least one bouncer.
He’s human, little Tigress. We employ wolves, but you’re the only supernatural customer at this time.
Ronnie cataloged the arrest warrants she’d need — Tigre had ordered her to be taken care of, and Flores had raped her. But who the fuck had killed her?
“Ramirez is pulling into the parking lot with a woman. Not his car, possibly hers, but he’s driving. Running the plates now.” Ronnie wasn’t surprised Sergeant Perry had commandeered the FBI’s headset. He didn’t trust them to keep her and Detective Carter safe.
Ramirez intends to kill Flores.Josef told her.If not today, soon. He’s going to take El Tigre’s temperature — see how he feels about Wendy being raped — before he decides whether to take Flores out in the coming days, or whether to wait a few weeks. Ramirez thinks Flores raped her and then killed her.
And he didn’t?
No.
Does anyone know who killed her?
No one here seems to know.
