Dragon Heartstring(30)

“They?”

“There were two men in the car. The passenger threw the brick.”

“Of course,” said Max. “I probably don’t have to tell you this, but chances are that whoever they are, they probably have plans of something a bit more…injurious to blame on KORC down the road. Beyond this brick.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” I asked, knowing full well this asshole would most probably try to hurt Shakara, then frame KORC for the wrongdoing. The brick was step number one.

Max settled back, his wet leather jacket squeaking against the leather upholstery. “I’m surprised they attempted anything with the clinic open, knowing they might be spotted. That was sloppy.”

“The clinic wasn’t open,” I corrected.

“Right. But the lights were on. He knew someone was there and was taking an unnecessary risk of being seen if he wanted to frame KORC.”

I shifted my shoulders toward the window with my hand still on the steering wheel. “The lights weren’t on.”

I didn’t need to look to know Max was observing me.

“Interesting.” I could hear the snark in that one word.

“Keep your opinions to yourself.”

“I have no opinions.”

“That’s a lie.”

A car came up the street slowly. The headlights swung right as it turned into a side alley of an apartment building along the five hundred block.

“That’s them,” I said, watching two guys, one of them the scraggly dude who was in the passenger seat, come out of the alley and approach the apartment building.

Max and I eased out of my vehicle, waited till they disappeared inside, and then strolled toward the apartments. We had to veer around a bench, and I nearly tripped on a man’s legs sticking out from underneath. I sidestepped and glanced back, thankful to see the man pull his legs farther under the bench.

We continued up the shadowed walk, the slanting rain illumined by the one working streetlight.

“I’m assuming you have an apartment number,” I said as we approached the entrance.

“Twenty-nine.”

Dark clouds blotting out the moon and stars gave us good cover. By the time we reached the door, Kraven Silverback appeared out of the shadows.

“I followed to be sure we didn’t lose them,” he said. “If you’ve got this, I’ll report back to Shakara’s apartment building.”

“We’ve got this,” I assured him. “I’d much rather you be at Shakara’s place. Lucius has stationed more officers on duty tonight as well.”

With a swift nod, he melted back into the night. I heard the distinct flap of his great wings as he lifted off, then Max and I filed into the apartment building.

There was no elevator. Max pointed to the stairwell. We climbed to the second floor and stepped out into the hallway. It was empty. I led us down the dim corridor, only one bulb lit that blinked erratically as if it were on its last leg. We passed apartment twenty-three where a woman shouted at a man in a shrill voice. Something about the waitress where he worked. He grumbled a reply. The walls were paper-thin.

Moving on, there was little noise elsewhere. Silverware and plates clinked together from behind the apartment door of twenty-seven. Someone doing dishes perhaps.

The three of us stopped outside twenty-nine. No sound whatsoever coming from the other side. Max pulled his police-issue handgun. I motioned to go first. Max nodded. I reached for the doorknob, turned, and glanced at Max with a shake of the head. It was locked. With a huge swing of my torso, I busted open the door, the frame cracking as we rushed into the room.

“On the ground! On the ground!” shouted Max, gun aimed at the two men on the sofa snorting dust.

One of them, the driver, Gus Simmons, shot up his hands. The other, the scraggly, pale son of a bitch who’d thrown the brick darted toward the bathroom. I lunged and tackled him to the floor, then pinned him with one bony arm behind his back and my knee on his shoulder. He struggled. I clenched my fist in his nasty hair, hauled back, and slammed his face into the wood floor.

He screamed.

“Stop moving, mother fucker. I’d love to have a reason to crack your skull open and watch you bleed.”

“We weren’t doin’ nothin’,” yelled the other one, also on the floor on his stomach while Max handcuffed him.

“Really, Gus?” asked Max.

Holding his arms from behind, Max hauled the guy to his feet and shoved him into chair against the wall. Max picked up the clear bag of pink poppy dust off the table. “Looks to me like you two were celebrating something.”

“Aw, that ain’t nothin’,” said Gus. “That’s just a little weeknight fun, ya know? Not even an ounce. Not worth haulin’ us in on that.”

I wasn’t a police officer, but I knew enough from Max that he was right. The time in paperwork wasn’t worth the few nights in jail for the amount in the baggie. Plus, I was guessing these guys had a wealthy patron who would get them out fast. But the dope was leverage.

“Yeah,” said the guy beneath me. “What you want with us? You ain’t no fuckin’ cop. This is all some bullshit.”

“You want to know what this is?” I said, leaning down, my blood pumping like mad through my veins.

“Tell me, pretty boy,” he ground out, his face still planted against the floor.