Page 29 of Jack of Hearts
He exchanged a glance with Court, who shrugged, seemingly oblivious that the rug had just been pulled from under Alex’s feet. It was unsettling to learn that Nate would outright lie, but as tempted as he was to call his brother out, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Nate was a stubborn SOB and would simply dig in his heels. Might be time to do a little investigating, see if he could find out where their mother had ended up.
Back to the question of what happened to Madison’s father, though, and his brothers could help look into that. “Madison’s father was Michael Parker.”
Both his brothers perked up. “No shit?” Nate said. “He brought down more bad guys with nothing more than an investigative article in the paper than we’ve ever hoped of doing.”
Court nodded in agreement. “He was a legend. Remember when he wrote that exposéon those builders taking advantage of desperate homeowners after Hurricane Andrew?”
“I remember.” The hurricane had decimated Miami. “According to Madison, he was killed in a hit-and-run while working on a big story that he refused to talk about. The driver was never caught. The two might not be connected, but I’m not big on coincidences.”
Court sat back in his chair, eyeing Alex with interest. There was nothing that his middle brother loved more than a good puzzle. “Maybe he was afraid his story would put his family in danger.”
“We might never know, but I’m definitely going to look into it.”
Nate frowned at the monitor. “Sonofabitch. I’m gonna throw that asshole in a cell and lose the key.”
Alex glanced at the screen, chuckling at seeing Dirty Dan leaning over the bar, filling his mug with draft beer. “Dude doesn’t give up, does he?”
“It’s not funny,” Nate said as he headed for the door.
“Admit it. The two of you enjoy his little game.” Alex shared an amused glance with Court. For some reason, Dirty Dan loved trying to pull one over on Nate, and Nate had become obsessed with catching the man.
“I admit nothing.” He glanced at Alex. “Be careful tonight.”
“Always am. I’ll check in later if you’re still up.” He headed for his bike, wishing he were on the way to see Madison instead of Ramon.
“Dude’s twitchy,” Alex said when the man he and Ramon had gone to meet claimed he needed to go to another room to get the money. Alex didn’t know how much heroin was in the duffel bag he carried, but it was heavy. He’d been surprised when Ramon agreed to bring him along, but it meant he was earning the man’s trust.
Ramon picked up a paperweight that had a gold coin inside, holding it up to the light. “Javon’s just nervous cause you’re here.” He set the paperweight back down.
Alex trusted his instincts, which had so far kept him alive. Every hair on his neck was screaming that there was more going on with the man than just having a new face show up for a drug deal. “Hold this.” He handed Ramon the bag.
“What’re you doing?”
“Better safe than sorry.” A six-foot-tall fake plant sat near the door, and he leaned his back against the wall next to it. He palmed his gun, holding it down by his leg. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he tilted his head, listening. Ramon opened his mouth to speak, and Alex gave a hard shake of his head. Javon had worn sneakers, but by the heavy thuds against the wood floor, whoever headed their way had on boots. A bigger, heavier man than the skinny one who’d left minutes earlier.
A man wearing a black ski mask strode in, pointing a Beretta at Ramon’s chest. “The hell?” Ramon said.
“Shut up,” the man said. “Where’s your friend?”
Alex put the barrel of his Glock against the back of the dude’s neck. “Blink and you’re dead. Hand your gun to Ramon, the butt toward him. Not joking when I say if you try anything, I’ll pull the trigger. Two seconds is all the time you have left,” Alex said when the guy hesitated.
Last thing he wanted was a dead body on their hands, so he was relieved when the man held out his gun. Once Ramon had the weapon, Alex stepped to the side, putting himself out of reach should the dude decide to try and fight his way out of his predicament.
“Face down on the floor.” The man glared, but did as told. “Ramon, lock the door, then see if you can find something to tie him up with.” Until he knew where Javon was, or if there were others with weapons in the house, he didn’t want anyone walking in on them, catching them by surprise.
After circling the room, Ramon pulled a panel of sheer curtains from a rod, tearing it into strips. “How’d you know?” he asked as he handed the makeshift ties to Alex.
“Told you. Javon was twitchy.” Alex tied the man’s hands behind his back, and then bound his ankles. A quick search of his pockets produced a worn leather wallet. “Kurt Terrance,” he read aloud, memorizing the address. He stuck the wallet back in the man’s pocket.
Ramon picked up the duffel bag full of heroin, moved to a chair, and sat. “What’re we going to do with him?”
Alex squatted in front of his prisoner. “Let me guess. Javon bragged about a big deal he had going down. You decided the drugs and the money would be easy pickings. Have I hit the nail on the head, Mr.Terrance?”
Terrance spit on Alex’s shoe. “Go to hell.”
Alex tsked. “Wrong answer.” He stuck the barrel of his Glock against the man’s ear. “Care to try again?”
“Damn, dude, you’re one badass,” Ramon said, admiration evident in his voice.
