Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(19)

Her gaze shifted to Brent. What if her friend had been sleeping there? Would he have been taken unaware? She considered that, decided against the idea. Brent was too alert.

What if Alexa had been staying with Rowan? “Were you planning to shoot me like you did my sister?”

A scowl from this man. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who your sister is and I don’t carry a gun.” A smirk crossed his face. “I can do the job just fine with my bare hands.”

Was he serious? A closer examination of his expression told Rowan he was dead serious. This guy was bragging about his prowess in using his hands to kill. Her cheeks burned.

“So you were planning to strangle her?” Brent asked, his tone icy.

The guy shrugged. “Eventually. What do you care? It’s just a job.”

“Not to me.” Quick as lightning, Brent wrapped his arm around Ski Mask’s neck and began choking him. The man struggled, face reddening, but Brent had him in an unbreakable grip. “She matters to me. I would snap your neck in a heartbeat if she asked me to.”

Sirens sounded in the distance. Relief swept through Rowan. Detective Taylor would be here soon. She wanted Ski Mask out of her apartment and off the street where no one would worry about their loved ones being harmed by this guy. She also didn’t want Brent forced to kill in anger. Having to defend his own life or that of someone he was protecting was a different matter. “Is this what you do for a living?” she asked Ski Mask. “You kill people?”

He clawed at Brent’s cloth-covered arm.

“Something tells me you aren’t any good at this sort of thing.”

“At ten thousand dollars, his employer isn’t hiring a top-tier assassin.” Brent stepped away from him and shifted to her side as the sirens cut off abruptly. Ski Mask coughed, tears leaking from his eyes. “This guy’s a throwaway. His employer either planned to kill him or throw him to the wolves.”

“Hey!” He coughed more.

Brent pulled out his cell phone, glanced at the message on his screen, smiled. “You’re definitely a bottom feeder, Carlos Salazar. A loser with a record a mile long. No judge will cut you a break. You’re going away for a long time.”

Ski Mask’s face paled. A moment later, he closed his mouth and refused to say anything else.

Someone pounded on the door, identifying himself as a police officer. After confirming his identity, Brent opened the door.

A patrolman looked into the apartment, hand on his weapon. His gaze rested on Ski Mask who was glaring at all of them, then shifted his attention to Brent. “You Maddox?”

“That’s right.”

After checking Brent’s ID, the officer moved just inside the doorway. “Taylor will be here in two minutes.” He inclined his head toward Ski Mask. “What’s the story?”

Brent gave him a brief summary of events over the past half hour.

Rowan wondered why he didn’t give the officer the whole story. Unnecessary information since this guy wasn’t involved in the original crime scene, she decided. He looked a little young, maybe a rookie. Wonder how soon he’d be working to keep nosy neighbors away from the scene?

She glanced at the clock, sighed. The police would be on the street in front of her store soon. It was just after four o’clock. In fact, she’d need to go down to the shop within the hour. The Coffee House doors opened at six for customers like Brent who were usually waiting for her to unlock the doors, and the pastry delivery would be delivered at five. Rowan had to be downstairs until she reached her assistant manager, Lacey, and arranged for her to cover Rowan’s shifts. Chase, her most senior employee, would have to help Lacey.

No way was Rowan allowing Brent to hunt for Alexa without her. She knew Brent well enough to realize if a lead materialized, he’d chase the trail wherever it led, with or without her. Rowan was determined not to be left behind. Alexa needed her and Rowan intended to be there for her, especially after the trauma she’d suffered and was still enduring. That thought made her eyes sting. Where was her niece?

A shadow darkened the door to the hallway and Detective Cal Taylor stepped into the living room. His gaze locked onto Ski Mask. “Get an ID on this guy, Maddox?”

“Carlos Salazar. Loser with a long record.”

“Figures.” He turned to the officer, glanced at his name tag. “Officer Nelson, take Mr. Salazar into custody and run him down to the station.”

“I didn’t do nothing,” Salazar protested.

“Is that right?” Taylor eyed Rowan. “Let’s ask the lady. Why did you call me, Ms. Scott?”

“I woke up to Mr. Salazar climbing into my bedroom window thirty minutes ago.”

“I take it you had the window closed and locked?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“She’s lying,” spat out Salazar. “I didn’t climb into no window. Maybe her boyfriend just wanted to play the hero to impress his girlfriend.”

“We’ll have a nice long talk about your B & E habits. I’m betting you left behind signs of your break-in.” He nodded at Maddox. “Cut this clown loose so Nelson can get him out of here.”

Brent’s eyes glittered. He bent down and pulled a wicked looking knife from his black combat boot. Rowan fought to keep a grin from spreading across her mouth as Brent made a show of examining his knife in the light from her lamp. The grip and blade itself were black, seeming to absorb the light instead of reflect it. She’d never seen a knife like this one before. Was this a weapon he took into combat? Rowan knew nothing about military operations, but the knife perfect for night work on a mission. In fact, come to think of it, Brent never wore anything that reflected light. Her friend looked as comfortable with that weapon in his hand as he did with a gun. Nice to know her tax dollars had gone some place useful.