Reckless

  Chapter 11

  Toni opened her eyes and blinked her vision into focus. The floor where she lay smelled musty. The room exuded chill dampness. She knew it was a basement before she realized the floor was packed earth or the walls, chipped cinder block.

  “About time, Manelli. I been waitin' all damn day.”

  The cold voice came from near the center of the room and drew Toni's gaze. She barely stopped herself from gasping when she saw Nick in a straight-backed wooden chair. A rope lashed around his ankles kept his feet immobile. She thought another must be holding his wrists together behind the chair’s back, but she couldn't see for certain, despite the glaring bare light bulb that dangled from the end of a frayed cord, over his head.

  Lou Taranto stood a few feet in front of Nick, facing him. Viper was at his side. Nick's eyes seemed glazed, and Toni vaguely remembered the crash. Someone rushing over to her, opening her car door, and jabbing her in the arm with something. She remembered looking behind the car for Nick, certain he’d been in the trunk. And she’d spotted him lying on the pavement, a guy in a suit bent over him, injecting him with a needle.

  They'd both been drugged. She had no idea how long ago or where they might be now.

  “You disappointed me, Nicky. I trusted you. Like my own son, I trusted you, but you betrayed me.” Lou released a short shot of air. “A Fed! A lousy, freaking Fed—don't bother denying it. No one fools Lou Taranto for long.”

  Nick wasn't looking at him. His gaze probed the corners of the room, and Toni realized that with the bright light on him and the shadows everywhere else, he couldn't see her. He searched for her, squinting hard. She wanted to call out to him, but didn't dare. It might be better to stay quiet for a few minutes. She might get an idea that could help if she could watch them while they thought she was still unconscious.

  Viper raised his fist and delivered a shocking blow to the side of Nick's head. The chair toppled to the floor with Nick in it, and Toni damn near jumped to her feet and charged the little weasel. A small voice from within warned her it would do more harm than good. What she needed was a weapon.

  Viper leaned over, righted the chair with a rough jerk. “Pay attention when the boss is talkin’ to you, Manelli. Lou has a few things to get off his chest.” He leaned closer. “And then it's my turn. You know how your pal Salducci looked when you found him? He looked good compared to what you're gonna look like, Nicky boy. You're gonna die slow.”

  “Big talk's easy when I'm tied up and drugged, isn’t it?” Nick's voice came out even and low. “Untie me and say it again, you little prick.”

  “Talk all you want, Manelli. You're a dead man. I don't pay much attention to dead men.”

  “I'm not dead yet.”

  Viper smiled, and it sent a chill right down Toni's spine. “Yeah, you are.”

  Toni reached out in the darkness, patting the damp dirt floor with her hands. They hadn't tied her as they had Nick. They must not consider her much of a threat. She strained her eyes to see in the darkness. A rickety wooden door hung at one side of the room. An ancient, molding pile of firewood was stacked in a corner. A broken wood crate, with a few dust-covered shapes in its bottom sat beside a rusted water tank that had long since toppled onto its side. A weapon. She needed a weapon. A length of pipe, a hammer, anything!

  “I need to know what they have on me, Nicky.” Lou picked up the conversation again. “The warrant says murder one. What are they basing it on?”

  Nick shook his head. “My case was narcotics. The murder rap came from a separate investigation.”

  Viper hit him again, a straight-on drive of knuckles into his face. The chair slammed over backward, hitting the floor hard. Blood spurted from Nick's nose. Toni heard him cough and spit. Viper yanked the chair upright again by grabbing Nick's shirt in both fists.

  Toni rose slowly to her feet, fists clenched so hard her nails pierced her palms. In silence, she looked around her, still cloaked in the darkness. She edged slowly along the cool wall, trying to work her way to the woodpile. A log, if she could find one that wasn't completely rotten, would be good enough to split Viper's skull, she decided.

  “Come on, Nicky. You can do better than that,” Lou said. “Where’s the evidence the Rio broad had on me?”

  “If she had anything on you, it’s still in her apartment.”

  “Bullshit. I sent men back there, once we searched your car. Place was empty. No Salducci, no evidence.”

  Nick shook his head. “I don't know what to tell you, Lou. I called the case as soon as I knew you were onto Salducci. We were packing it in. It wasn't my problem any more.”

  “You're lying!”

  Nick shrugged, lifting his chin and glaring at Viper. “Isn't that your cue?”

  Viper slugged him in the belly this time, and Toni wondered how he kept from vomiting. The chair jumped with the force of the blow. Nick bent as much as the ropes would allow, dragging air into his lungs.

  “How am I gonna prepare my defense if I don't know what the evidence is?” Lou spoke in a smooth, friendly tone. “Come on, Nicky, I can't let the business I spent my whole life building go up in smoke like this. I need to know. You're gonna talk eventually. Why put yourself through any more pain when you’re just delaying the inevitable?” There was the tiniest waver in his voice. Toni heard it and knew it for what it was—desperation. A weapon, at last.

  She stepped out of the darkness, forcing her face to appear composed, emotionless. If they knew what it did to her to see them hurting Nick, it would be over in no time. Her heart felt torn wide open and raw at the pain she knew he must be feeling.

  And suddenly, she realized with blinding clarity that she loved him. The pure power of the emotion awed her. She'd had no idea how strong her feelings had become until she'd been forced to see him suffer.

  She drew on that strength, closed off the frightened, trembling part of her mind and focused on the strength. There—in one of those corridors within—she met an old friend, clasped her hand, and stood a little straighter. Help me through this, Katrina.

  Haven't I always? I am you. Or hadn’t you figured that out yet?

  Toni blinked away the odd sensation and lifted her chin. They hadn’t seen her yet. She could back into the shadows and play dead, if she wanted to.

  She didn’t want to.

  “He's telling you the truth, Taranto,” she said, loud and clear. “It wasn't his investigation that turned up the evidence against you. It was mine.”

  All eyes turned in her direction. Toni had to force her gaze not to linger on Nick's bruising, bloody face. If she looked at him, she'd break down and cry. She'd throw her arms around him and kiss the pain away. She'd claw Viper's heart out for hurting him.

  “Toni, don't—” Viper hit him again. The skin of his cheek split.

  Everything in her wanted to look away, cover her eyes, gag and cry and plead. Instead, she kept her eyes on them and her voice ice cold. “Fine, you don't want to listen to me, that's fine. You finish your little game with Manelli and want to talk, let me know. By then it’ll be too late to do anything about it, but it’s your loss.” Turning at last, she took a step toward her shadowy corner.

  “Just a minute, bitch,” Lou snapped.

  She didn't face him, just stopped moving and blinked rapidly to erase any trace of moisture from her eyes. “If you want my help, you'll have to address me in some other tone, Taranto. I don't answer to ‘bitch.’”

  His chuckle filled the damp room, reaching all the way to the wooden two-by-six crosspieces supporting the ceiling and the thick cobwebs that covered them. “Viper,” he said.

  The weasel’s clammy hands were clasped around her arms a second later, jerking her around to face Taranto and then holding them pinned to her sides. Nick strained against his bonds. She tried to send him a message with her eyes, but he continued struggling.

  Her voice sounding unfamiliar to her own ears, she said, “You don't need to pound on my face to get the information you
want, Taranto. I'm no cop. I'm in this game for one reason and one reason only. Money.”

  Lou's head came up. “You want to make a deal?” He laughed again. “This one's bold as brass, isn't she?” His gaze shifted from Viper, who held her, to Toni again. “You got nothing to deal with, lady writer. You tell me what I want to know here and now, or I let Viper have an hour alone with you.”

  Viper bent his head and closed his teeth on Toni's earlobe. It was no playful nibble. He bit hard, intending to hurt her, and he did. She sucked air through her clenched teeth and fought the pain. He let her ear go, and it throbbed angrily. He still kept her arms pulled painfully behind her. “I'm gonna like this, Lou. When can we start?”

  Toni forced a smile and then laughter. “You've got to be kidding me! I thought you were a businessman.”

  “Tell me what you know, sugar.”

  “I'll tell you a little. The murder charges on you are for the deaths of your ex-supplier and the two DEA agents who were escorting him back to the U.S. You remember Juan Perez, don't you? Your supplier in Colombia? He was the last man who refused the deal I offered. I brought him to his knees and I'll do the same to you.”

  Lou frowned. “You offered Perez a deal?”

  “Before the book went to print I offered to leave certain specifics out if he'd pay me well for my trouble.” She shrugged. “He thought I was bluffing.” She met Taranto's eyes and felt an icy hand close over her heart. “A lot of men make that mistake. My book brought his entire operation down. The new one’s gonna do the same for you. And you wanna know why?”

  “This I gotta hear,” Lou said. But he wasn’t as cocky. Trying to be, but Toni saw through it. She was shaking him.

  “Because the pen is mightier than the sword. That’s why.” He frowned, either because he’d never heard the expression or more likely, didn’t understand it. “In more modern terms, my keyboard is more powerful than your guns and your thugs and your bullshit. Words, Taranto. Words are power.”

  “What do you have on me, lady? Cut the games and spill it.”

  Viper said, “Don’t tell him.” He spoke near her sore ear, his lips moving against it, his breath hot on her throat.

  She looked at Lou. “Tell this pig to let go of me.”

  Lou frowned and finally nodded toward Viper. “You'll have plenty of time to hurt her later on.”

  She glanced quickly toward Nick. His eyes on her were narrow, and she hoped to God he didn't think this bravado of hers was the real Toni. It wasn't. It was Katrina. Or some messed up combination of the two of them. Or something.

  She faced Lou squarely. “I have photos of you passing an envelope to a man named Santos. I have proof that Santos left you and went directly to an airport in Colombia, where he somehow got a job as a mechanic. I have photos of him tinkering with Perez's plane moments before takeoff. I have evidence that a large sum of money was transferred into Santos’ bank account the day he arrived in Colombia.”

  Lou shook his head. “Nothing. It's nothing. Circumstantial, at best.”

  “I have the envelope.”

  Lou's brows shot up. “Impossible! Santos said he burned—”

  “He put a match to it, dropped it in a trash can. A friend of mine pulled it out and doused the flame. It’s charred a little, just around the edges but otherwise, intact.” She saw his eyes narrow with skepticism. “Want me to tell you what was inside?”

  “You can give it a shot,” he said.

  “A handwritten note with the name of the little airfield and Perez's flight number and time of departure. Your handwriting, Lou. I checked it against the signature on your driver’s license.” She shook her head. “Sloppy, sloppy. An expert analyst will use that, you know. There was a nice five-by-seven glossy print of Perez, too. He was wearing a tacky floral-print shirt.”

  Lou's eyes showed real fear now. “You gave them all of that?”

  She shook her head. “You think I'm an idiot? What good would my book be if I gave them all of my surprises? It would all come out in your trial, and all the juice in the book would be old news by the time it hit the shelves. I'd be lucky if it sold a dozen copies.”

  “But the warrants—”

  “I gave them an envelope full of bogus evidence. The photo they have is of my cousin Sam. All the documents are forged, and not very expertly, either. As soon as they realize it, which shouldn't be too far in the future, the warrants will be revoked. They have nothing.”

  Lou turned, paced the room slowly and came to stand close to her. “How could you know you'd need fake evidence?”

  “I'm not new to this game, Taranto. The Feds are always leaning on me to give them what I have before it comes out in the book. I make up phony evidence on a regular basis, just in case. It’s my backup plan. If they force the issue, I just give them the fake evidence. That buys me time. My publisher can rush the book to print while they chase their tails trying to verify it. I make a million in royalties, hit the Times list, and then hand over the real evidence. This time it paid off.”

  “So where's the real evidence?”

  “I'd be dead in a hurry if I told you that, wouldn't I?”

  “Dead, maybe. Not in a hurry. Doesn't matter. You don't have a choice.”

  “I think I do. A lawyer is holding it for me. I can't even tell you who he is, because I had the arrangements made by my publisher. If anyone makes any attempt to get that envelope—other than me, of course—it goes straight to the DEA. If my publisher doesn't hear from me at least once a day, it goes to them even faster. Now, let's talk, Lou. I stand to make a cool million from the book. You want what I have, you'll have to make me a better offer.”

  Lou lunged at her, gripped the front of her blouse and pulled her to his face. His rancid breath turned her stomach. “There isn't gonna be any book. You either get me that envelope or you die right here. I guarantee Viper and I can convince you to cooperate.”

  She tried not to show her fear and revulsion. Her false bravado was draining fast. She felt a tremor go through her heart. “There already is a book. I delivered the final draft the day that jerk kidnapped me,” she lied. “The deal is, all the evidence goes to the Feds anyway, but not until the book is out.”

  “Then you can't stop it?” Lou asked, a little of the steel gone from his voice. He stepped away from her, releasing her shirt.

  “There's a clause in my contract giving me the right to pull out up to ninety days before publication. That time runs out tomorrow. If you want me to help you out of this, Taranto, you better talk fast. I can make one call at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow that will put the brakes on this entire thing.”

  Lou cupped his chin in one hand and squeezed. He met Viper's lecherous gaze, and she knew exactly what they were thinking. They'd humor her, offer her whatever she wanted, get the evidence in their filthy hands and then kill her anyway. She didn't care. It would only take a call to the publisher to tell them she'd made the whole thing up anyway. She was betting on its being after hours. They wouldn't be able to confirm her story until morning. She would have bought some time and nothing more.

  “How much,” Lou finally asked.

  She shrugged. “A million-five?”

  “Done,” he said quickly.

  She nodded. “And one more thing. I'll do a lot for that kind of money. But if I'm going to get him killed, I'd just as soon not have to be here to know about it. I do have a few morals. I know you have to do it, but if you want my help you're gonna have to wait until I take my money and leave.”

  Lou turned a skeptical gaze on her, and she hoped she hadn't blown it by pleading for Nick's life. If Lou knew how much she cared, he'd have the best weapon against her he could've found. He eyed her now, and then Nick.

  “You cold, greedy, lying bitch!” Nick’s voice was like gravel, so full of venom she almost recoiled. He pulled at his bonds, this time looking as if he'd like to wring her neck with his bare hands. “I'll kill you for this. If I get my hands on you, I'll—”

  Viper smacked
him in the gut again, knocking enough wind out of him so he couldn't go on. Toni heard the breath rush from his lungs. She turned her back to him, her throat burning, took one step away. She felt drained. All she wanted now was to slink back to her darkened corner and collapse. She'd done all she could, and if Nick couldn't see that, then....

  She stopped herself and gave her head a small shake. What was the matter with her? Nick wasn't an idiot. Besides, he knew her better than to believe a word of that line she'd fed Taranto. He knew things about her that she'd only begun to realize about herself. Slowly she turned, and Nick lifted his mistreated face to meet her gaze.

  “In the morning, then,” Taranto said gruffly. She had to look away from Nick, but not before she'd glimpsed the reassuring glint in his eyes. “You'll make that call. I'll give you the money as soon as the evidence is in my hands. Deal?”

  “Deal.”