Save Me from Dangerous Men (Nikki Griffin #1)(75)

I shot him in the left foot.

Right through what must have been a size twelve or thirteen black leather wingtip. Bits of leather and flesh flecked out against the sides of the white tub along with the blood. There wasn’t all that much water in the tub. It turned red pretty quick.

Victor was tough. He got the initial screaming under control after a long minute, and with some effort stopped moaning entirely soon after. The cursing probably would have continued indefinitely except I held the gun up a second time, this time pointed at his right foot. What remained of the left foot bled red into the bathwater. The .45 was a big gun.

“You were saying.”

“You goddamn shot me. You shot me.”

“One foot left, Victor. If you care.”

“Okay! Wait!” He took a breath and grimaced. “I’m telling you, Joseph handles the bookings. I don’t know who he talked to except that it was someone at the same company that hired you. Care4. We knew you were following Karen Li up to Mendocino because we were, too. That’s all I know.”

“Why didn’t you wait for me that night? At the cabin?”

The pain seemed to be increasing. He worked his jaw muscles and breathed with effort. “We didn’t know you’d actually go into the cabin. We thought you were following at a distance. That’s what we had been told. At that point, our instructions were to deal with her. No one had told us to go after you yet. That came later.”

“Have you worked for Care4 before this?”

“No.”

“Has Joseph?”

“I have no idea.”

“Are you lying?”

“No!”

I turned the faucet back on and watched Victor’s face as water began again rising up around his head. “You’re sure you don’t remember who actually hired you?”

“I told you! Joseph handles that. I just do the jobs.”

“Okay, Victor. Good enough.” Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe not. Either way he didn’t have anything more to offer. A shame Joseph wasn’t here as well. He’d know more. I stuck a new piece of duct tape over Victor’s mouth. It was harder with all his flailing, but I managed. When I stood, I was soaking wet from splashed bathwater.

“These last few minutes are yours,” I told him. “I can’t tell you what to think about. But I hope you realize that Karen Li didn’t deserve what you did to her.”

Ignoring the increasingly frantic pleas issuing from under the tape, I walked out of the bathroom and shut the door. I heard plenty of thuds and splashing for the first few minutes. Victor was a strong and hardy man. He didn’t have any wish to go along with what was happening to him. But sometimes there really wasn’t any choice.

Eventually the noises lessened. Soon after, the bathroom became quiet.

I tasted blood. The inside of my mouth was cut from Victor’s slaps, my lips already swelling up. I found some tissues and stuck them in the side of my mouth to absorb the blood. An old boxing trick that a cutman had taught me once. Then I sat still. Waiting.

Soon there was a knock.

I opened the door, gun in hand.

Buster wore black jeans and a black leather jacket. His black hair was tied into a ponytail. He looked like a giant, sinister cowboy. Most people, opening the front door to find Buster facing them, would have had nightmares for weeks. I felt so much relief I wanted to give him a hug. He walked in and looked around the room and whistled. “You don’t get to make fun of the mess in my office anymore.” He was staring at me, taking in my face, my ripped and soaked clothing. “You look like you got kicked by a damn horse.”

“You should see the other guys.”

He looked around. Taking in the two bodies on the floor. Eric, and the Chronicle guy, bloody newspaper still folded across his lap. “You mean these other guys?”

I found two cans of beer in the refrigerator, handed one to Buster, and cracked the other. “How big is your trunk?”

He smiled wolfishly. “Big enough for two.”

“Three,” I corrected. “Needs to be big enough for three.”

He looked around again. “Never been one for math, but I always figured I could count all the way up to two.”

I nodded toward the closed bathroom door.

Buster followed my glance. Drank off half his can of beer and shrugged. “It’ll be a tight fit, but they won’t complain.”

Less than half an hour later, we were out of the apartment.

“Need a lift anywhere?” he offered.

“That would be nice. They sort of kidnapped me.”

He patted my shoulder with a big hand. “And I’m sure they’re very sorry they did.”





WEEK FOUR





36


“Nikki, your face—were you in a car accident?”

“We can call it that.”

“Do you need help? Have you gone to the police?”

“The police can’t help me.”

“I always thought that’s exactly what the police were for.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“May I bring something up, Nikki? Something that might upset you?”

“It’s been an upsetting week. This will fit right in.”