“Tell me about Mandy, Jake.”
She’d been careful not to accuse him of killing the girl. And even though reminding the man of his body count was a risk, she had to get him talking to buy time. And maybe with luck, he’d make a mistake.
“Wasn’t my fault,” he rambled as he fidgeted, scratching his head with the muzzle of his gun. “She brought it on herself. Not me.”
“The crank made her crazy?” She gave him an opening to tell his version of the truth, acting as if she were on his side.
Ignoring her—maybe not even hearing her question—Jake pointed his gun at Seth, and ranted, “You know that kid really screwed it up. He had that whore believing she could change her life and get clean. And that bitch believed him,” he screamed, his voice cracking. “It was his fault.”
Jess saw him losing control and moved a leg to put one foot on the floor, balancing her weight on a knee. In his condition, Jake might not see her shift position, but if she had leverage, she could rush him.
“But why kill her…that way?” she asked, keeping her posture passive with head low.
“I asked that, too.” He laughed. A strangled guttural sound. “She could’ve OD’d. That would’ve done it.” He gestured wildly. “And none of us would be here…like this.”
It took a moment for his words to register.
“Asked who, Jake?” She softened her voice, downplaying her desperate need to know. “Who else was involved in Mandy’s murder?”
“No one,” he yelled, pointing his gun at her again. “SHUT UP! Just shut up…so I can think.”
As fast as the guy was unraveling, he didn’t strike her as the mastermind behind all this.
“Why was she killed, Jake?” she pressed.
At first, she wasn’t sure he’d answer. He shot her a glare and aimed his gun, taking away her breath. But eventually he lowered the weapon.
“Desiree overheard something she shouldn’t have,” he began. Then in a move that surprised her, Jake added, “It was my fault.”
“What do you mean, your fault?”
“She overheard a conversation about a side business I had going.” He shook his head. “I thought she’d be cool…keep her mouth shut out of…gratitude. Hell, I let her operate under Beladi’s nose, for cryin’ out loud, but that wasn’t enough for her.”
“She ask you for money?” Her way of asking about Mandy’s blackmail scheme.
“Yeah, said she wanted to leave town.” Jake raised his voice. “That kid convinced her she could start a new life, like her slate could be wiped clean. Can you believe it?” With his chest heaving, he never slowed his pace. Jake looked like a caged hamster running a wheel, with no place to go. “I would’ve been okay with payin’ her off, but…”
He stopped.
“But someone didn’t think that was good enough,” she took a guess. “…and didn’t trust your judgment?”
The bartender didn’t reply, but if looks could kill, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think the lethal laser shooting from his eyes could smoke her.
What the hell had Jake been thinking to lay claim to a piece of the smoker’s turf? Nadir Beladi hadn’t built his drug and prostitution business by playing nice. The man was smart and a damned viper when it came to controlling what was his. And being surrounded by family, he had others covering his back. That was why the DA had had trouble pinning murders and other crimes on him.
But Jake definitely had an accomplice. Someone more ruthless with an edge of cruelty had tricked him into staging Harper’s suicide, which included the heartless murder of an old man with dementia—a move that was lower than low.
“What little enterprise did you have going on the side?” she asked out of curiosity. “Prostitution?”
She remembered what he’d said about allowing Mandy to conduct her blow-and-go freelance work down the street from the bar, a solo act that kept her in crank. Maybe the bartender hadn’t lied about everything he’d told her. But when he didn’t answer, she guessed something else.
“Fencing stolen merchandise?”
That got a reaction. Jake looked at her with eyes narrowed. Had Mandy been the link between Jake “the snake” Cordell and her old boyfriend, Jason Burke?
“I’m done talking,” he said.
But Jess wasn’t done asking. “Weren’t you afraid Beladi and Pinzolo would find out you were operating under their noses?”
By his sudden reaction, she knew she’d struck a chord. The madman with the wild eyes was back. He aimed his gun at her head, and yelled, “Shut the fuck up!”
Jess knew she had pushed too hard.
It took all her concentration to think through what he’d told her. Keeping her mind off Seth’s body had been a challenge. But now she had to focus on getting Max and Alexa out of here—the strain made worse as she glanced toward the old man.
Normally Max had a vacant stare, but now he looked at her. His tear-filled eyes locked onto hers, and his lips moved without a sound, his frustration clear. She had to do something. And without Alexa’s help, whatever happened would be up to Jess.
She had no one else.
Sam stood outside the stone wall of the house on High Street, staring at the grounds awash in moonlight. No sign of movement and no lights, but with the windows boarded up, she didn’t expect to see much.
Ray hadn’t arrived yet, so she was faced with a decision. Should she wait for backup to arrive?
Taking a risk, she gripped her weapon and made her way around the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign that Jessie and Alexa had been there. Soft turf from the earlier rain made it slow going. And her shoes got caked in mud, but she got her answer as she neared the front door.
Muddy footprints.
Even under a cloudy night sky, she saw dark prints on cement. Two different sets. She listened for sounds coming from inside the old mansion. None came. But something else seized her heart in a cruel vise. She ran from the house and stood on the grounds to get a better look from a distance. It took a moment for her to see it.
Through the boards covering the windows, a red glow flickered into the darkness. And soon she felt the heat and smelled the distinct odor of—
“Smoke,” she gasped. “Oh, Jessie.”
The first floor of the Millstone mansion was on fire. And she had no doubt Jessie and Alexa were inside.
“Damn it!”
Sam holstered her gun and raced to the front entrance. She charged the door and kicked, despite the boards nailed across it. She hit it twice, barely budging it. When that didn’t work, she yanked at the boards like a madwoman, hoisting a foot against the doorjamb to give her leverage. After one two-by-four came loose, she tossed it aside and tried again. This time she got a clearer shot and kicked again.
It cracked open. And the heat from a wall of flames nearly blew her back, scorching her skin.
“Jessie!” she yelled, and cowered, raising a hand to cover her face.
When she didn’t get an answer, Sam shrugged out of her wet windbreaker and covered her mouth and nose with the damp garment. She took a deep breath and ducked through the door.
She wasn’t going to let Jessie down this time.
Jess heard a loud crack echo through the house, and someone yelled, but the words were garbled and she couldn’t make them out. She turned to see smoke filtering through the base of the door.
“Fire…there’s a fire,” she cried, and scrambled to her feet.
“No. NO!” Jake aimed his gun at her, but ran for the door. He grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. “Shit!” With eyes bulging, he backed off and waved his weapon at her again, yelling, “You…Open it! Now!”