Run the Risk

“Ah, but you see, those I can’t buy, I destroy.”

“You still have the traffickers to deal with,” Reese pointed out. “After the way you tried to cheat them, they’re not feeling real understanding.”

Peterson rounded on Reese. “You knew about that?”

“Of course.”

Her exaggerated gasp nearly choked her. “But you didn’t see fit to report it to me?”

“I didn’t trust you, if you’ll recall.”

Rowdy could see that Morton disliked losing their attention. He spoke over them to regain center stage. “I’ll be dealing with the traffickers next. They believe I’m dead, so they won’t be expecting me when I show up.”

“Show up?” Rowdy asked.

“After I take over, I’ll reestablish myself under an alias and be more powerful than ever.”

“The traffickers are close enough for you to just drop in, huh?” If they found the resources to get out of here alive, Rowdy would take great pleasure in destroying that operation.

Discounting any interference with his plans, Morton said, “They have absurd accommodations at a ramshackle house down on Third Ave. Filthy, really. Not at all up to my standards.” He shivered as if repulsed. “I’ll enjoy killing them all, but not as much as I’ll enjoy killing you.”

Reese said, “He’s not the one who saw you kill Jack Carmin. All this time, you’ve been chasing the wrong person.”

“Shut up, Reese.” Whatever plan he might be forming, no way in hell did Rowdy want his sister’s name bandied around in front of Morton.

“Had the incompetent fools questioned the reporter before cutting his throat,” Morton muttered, “they’d have known it was his sister, not him, who’d snitched. But no matter. I’m told that Rowdy and Pepper are inseparable. Find one, you find the other.”

Every muscle in Rowdy’s body went taut. “You won’t get anywhere near my sister.”

“Actually, men are seeking her right now.”

“You don’t know where she is,” Peterson said. “Even I don’t know.”

“And you would have told me if you did?” he inquired.

“I would have killed you—when the time was right.”

Rowdy knew he’d find a way to destroy Morton with his bare hands before he let him get anywhere near Pepper. If he died in the process, so be it.

* * *

LOGAN PULLED UP to Reese’s apartment and the first thing he saw was the woman with the midsize black dog held on a leash. She looked toward him, and misgivings kicked him in the gut.

“Something’s not right.”

Pepper looked around. “What is it?”

Just inside the front doors, a burly thug loitered. “They’re here.” He called Dash. Keeping his attention on the area, he said, “Pull up beside me. When I get out, switch over to my truck and get Pepper away from here.”

Without question, Dash said, “You’ve got it.” He pulled up alongside Logan as directed, but Pepper wasn’t so obliging.

She locked both hands on Logan’s arm. “Who’s here? What’s going on?” She looked around the area.

Logan cupped a hand around the back of her neck. “Don’t do that, honey. Just act normal so you don’t draw attention.” He pulled her in for a quick hard kiss. While staring into her eyes, he reminded her, “You trust me. Don’t forget that.”

She nodded, forced her shoulders to relax so that she appeared casual—and didn’t budge. “What’s going on?” she asked calmly. “Tell me who’s here.”

The dog barked, and Logan looked up to see that the woman watched him more closely. “Morton’s goons, or the traffickers, hell I don’t know. But Reese is here, too. That’s his car.”

“You think—”

“No.” Logan shook his head. “Hell, no. Reese might be up to something, but not that. Not ever.”

She searched his face. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Reese would never deliberately put a woman in harm’s way, or assist anyone else with that agenda.

“Okay then. If you trust him, I do, too. So I should probably tell you…I see Rowdy’s car.”

Flummoxed, Logan stared at her. “I thought he was going to steal something.”

“He’s not a car thief,” she complained with ire, then she drew a breath. “He kept old beat-up cars, weapons, changes of clothes…everything he or I might need, at the warehouse. That old sedan parked about six or seven cars down? It looks like his.”

So Reese wasn’t alone. Hopefully that meant he had backup—instead of two victims. “If I can get inside, I can work it out.”

Suddenly the woman and dog started toward him. She smiled, waved as if she’d just seen him, and Logan didn’t know what to think.

“Who is that?” Pepper asked with accusation.

“I think she might be Reese’s dog sitter.” When the woman strode over to his side of the car, Logan rolled down the window.

Still smiling, she leaned down to speak to him. “You’re a friend of Detective Bareden’s?”

More than a little confused, Logan said, “I am.”

“You’re a police officer, like him?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. You have the look.”