Kissing the Killer(58)
Just as I got into the stairwell, someone stepped out of the shadows. Instantly I fell into a fighting stance, ready to defend myself, my hand down on my knife.
“Calm down,” Louisa said.
I slowly relaxed. “Shouldn’t sneak up on me.”
“Can’t help it. We need to talk.”
“Get talking then. I need to get to Gian’s office.”
“About that. I need to know what you’re going to say about Emma.”
I shrugged. “She’s my new girl.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lucy.”
She sighed. “No. Her name is Ashley Marks. You met her in a bar, thought she had nice tits. Got it?”
I grinned at her. “She does have nice tits. And fine, Ashley Marks.”
“Good. Also, you killed Emma. That’s your story.”
“Is he going to ask?”
“I don’t know. I think he is, though.”
“Fine. I killed her.”
“How?”
“Slit her throat after I drugged her and wrapped her in plastic. Dragged the body out to the quarry and dropped it in weighted down with cement blocks.” I grinned at her. “Any more questions?”
She eyed me. “Done that before?”
“To a few men,” I said pointedly.
“Good luck, Brooks.” She walked off without another word.
I watched her go, shaking my head. What a strange fucking women, that Louisa Barone. She was playing some game, some big game that I couldn’t quite see. I didn’t believe her little story about giving power to the powerless. It just seemed too good to be true that she was fighting for justice and trying to save helpless women.
No, Louisa was playing a bigger game than that. I was sure of it. Maybe she was using the women as an excuse to consolidate power, but she was going for something much larger. She was too smart to play superhero in this fucked-up city. She was too close to power not to understand how it really worked.
Saving lives didn’t give you power. Taking them, or at least the ability to take them, that gave you power.
I shook my head and moved on, heading down toward the offices.
It wasn’t too hard to find Gian. I had to ask one of the staff members, but he pointed me in the right direction. I got a glimpse of his pistol as he did so.
Gian’s office was in a short dead-end hallway, the last door on the right. It was a big wooden door with his name on the front on a little bronze plate. I knocked and waited.
“Come in.”
I pushed open the door and stepped inside. “Boss,” I said.
“Brooks, good. You made it.” Gian stood up and smiled at me.
He was a couple of years older than me and about my height, handsome, or at least women fucking thought so. He was a dangerous man, good at fighting, skilled with a gun. He’d helped bring me up and was something like a brother to me.
“Sit down,” he said.
I sat in one of the big overstuffed chairs in front of his desk. He sat back down.
“Whisky?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He got a bottle and two glasses from his desk and poured. “Benefits of having a desk,” he said. “Easy place to store this shit.” He handed me a glass and held his up. I grabbed my glass and held mine to match him.
“Salut,” he said. “To you.”
“To the Barone family,” I added.
We clinked glasses and drank.
The whisky felt fucking good going down my throat. I hadn’t had a drink in what felt like fucking years.
“Another?” he asked.
“Always.”
He loaded us up with two doubles and then leaned back in his chair. I sipped mine, savoring the smoky flavor.
“So, Brooks,” he said, “know why I wanted you here?”
“Not sure, if I’m honest,” I said.
“Okay then. Let’s cut the bullshit. Is the girl dead?”
I nodded. “Yes. Got rid of her myself.”
“When?”
“Two nights ago. Something like that.”
He frowned. “You kept her around for a while.”
“She was useful.”
“And this new girl?”
“Just a new girl.”
“Your next victim?”
I grinned at him. “Maybe. If she plays her cards right.”
He laughed and took a drink. “You know why I’m asking you, right?”
“I know the rules, boss.”
“You’ve been a good worker for me, Brooks, a damn good killer. I’ve heard complaints that you don’t like hurting women, but, shit, a man has to have a code, right? I can overlook that sort of thing.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I had my suspicions. Just like Louisa had guessed, he’d started with asking me about Emma. She knew something more than she was saying, but that didn’t matter now. At least she had warned me.