Blood in the Water(34)

“Sure.” Jane appeared to be distracted as she gazed into the gloom surrounding the building. “Is that Vick?”

“Yeah, it is.” And a dickhead who can’t keep his hands to himself.

“Who’s the man?”

“Never seen him before. I’m gonna go over and say howdy, be sociable.” And let the bastard know Vick was under his protection.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s about to be.”

“You aren’t going to…do anything, are you?”

At the moment, he couldn’t make any promises. If something needed doing, Byron wouldn’t hesitate. Nobody got to intimidate his crew but him.

“Ain’t plannin’ on it.” It was mostly true. “I’ll catch up with you in a second.”

Byron ambled over to Vick as Jane walked inside. He waited until the door closed behind Jane to make his final approach. When he got closer, he overheard their conversation. Neither one of them saw him coming, they were so intent.

“You’re comin’ home with me.”

The tall man wore a Brooks Brothers suit. Byron figured he was probably in his late fifties judging by the silver hair, although he had the lithe frame of a much younger man. He had Vick backed against the wall, his body pinioning hers.

“No, I’m not.” Her voice was calm, but firm. “I’ve got other plans for tonight. If you want to see me, you’ve got to make an appointment.”

“I did, but you blew me off.”

“I didn’t mean to—there was a mix-up with my schedule. But you can’t show up whenever you like and demand to see me.”

“Looks like I can.” The man grasped Vick by the arm again.

“Let me go!” Vick slapped at his hand.

Time to make my presence known.

“You heard the lady, let her go. Now.” Byron came to a halt a couple feet from them. He unbuttoned his jacket for easy access to the Glock, if need be.

“This ain’t none of your business.” Brooks Brothers had a flinty expression.

“You’re wrong. Ain’t that so, Vick?”

She nodded vigorously. Her eyes were large and rounded as she tugged her hand free once more. She’d been hired for her tech skills. As far as he knew, she hadn’t had self-defense training, and Byron doubted she’d ever held a gun, let alone fired one.

“Vick?” The man turned to her. “What’s he talkin’ about, Veronica? Who’s this man—your boyfriend? Your lover?”

Her mouth fell open, and Vick laced a shaking hand through her hair. She was jumpier than spit dancing on a hot skillet.

Lover? And why didn’t he know her real name? Funny, Byron never would’ve figured Vick for someone with secrets. She had this air of innocence for someone in their line of work. Guess he shouldn’t be too surprised—a real goody two-shoes would’ve passed on this job.

So Byron stepped in again.

“I’m her boss. Now get on outta here, while you can still move on your own.” Byron flashed the gun to make himself crystal clear. Having a shootout in public was a bit high profile, and he hoped the dumbass had sense enough to back off before this got out of hand.

“Like I said, I have plans tonight,” she said stiffly. “If you want to see me, we’ll reschedule.”

“I’m leavin’, for now.” The man backed off, hands in the air, and then turned to Vick. “You won’t like what happens if you keep dodgin’ me.”

Sounded like a stalker to Byron. His hand rested on the Glock. Maybe this was a two bullets to the back of the head sort of problem.

Vick glanced at Byron.

He raised a brow.

“I mean it. You’d better go, Simon.” Vick slipped her arm through Byron’s and stood closer to him, which was odd. She must be in dire straits. Vick tolerated him, but that’s as far as it went.

“Expect a call tonight, Veronica, and you’d best answer it on the first ring.” Simon hopped into his silver sports car and took off, gravel flying.

This didn’t seem to be the sort of problem which went away on its own. Byron had a funny feeling someone would be putting Simon in the ground someday soon—most likely Jasper, since he was sweet on her.

When Simon the Stalker was gone, Byron turned to Vick. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

“It’s private.” She turned apple red.

“Not anymore. The incident happened on Dixie Mafia property, and I had to break it up before he kidnapped your ass. Lord only knows what kind of perverted misdeeds he had in mind. Who is he? And why the hell is he callin’ you Veronica?”

“He’s a friend, and it's fine. I’ve got it handled.” She shifted from one foot to the other, and he could read the anxiety in her jerky movements.