Dark Mysteries (11 page)

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Authors: Jessica Gadziala

BOOK: Dark Mysteries
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One
of the men inclined his head at Xander, an unspoken respect between
the two. He had stood by while the man broke one of his client's knee
caps with a pipe before he picked up the man and dragged him home to
his worried family. Xander nodded at the man, making his way over to
the bar and sitting down.

“Looks
like a three finger of scotch kind of day,” a female voice
said, coming in through the side of the bar.

Faith
was his type. Faith was tall with wide shoulders and hips, a thin
waist, and disproportionately large breasts. She kept her dark (just
short of black) hair long, swaying about her as she moved around,
grabbing a bottle and glasses. She wore impossibly tight black jeans
and a wine-colored tank top. She turned back to him, pouring the
liquor into two rocks glasses.

She
was pretty. Not just one of the women who had impressive bodies and
mediocre faces. She had almond-shaped dark brown eyes that she lined
with black liner, making them seem sharper, more dangerous, a thin
nose that pointed up ever so slightly at the tip, and generous lips
which were usually scowling.

How
she managed to get the job was beyond him. She wasn't hospitality
friendly. She never flirted with the men. And she was downright
hostile toward the members of the mob family. Yes, she was pretty...
but he knew she must have had something on them that made them keep
her. He knew better than to ask her what it was.

“Heya
sweetheart,” he smiled, saluting her with his drink and
throwing it back.

Faith
took hers, slamming the glass down on the bar. “Don't use that
silver tongue on me,” she said, smirking at him.

“Awe
baby. But my tongue...”

“Will
be getting nowhere near my fun parts,” Faith cut him off,
making him laugh. “So, what has you all tense?”

Xander
slammed the picture down on the bar, watching Faith look it over with
a knowing lift of her brow. “Her? Really?” She pushed the
picture back toward him. “She's pretty. Like a doll. But she's
not your type.”

“She's
a client,” he grumbled, tapping the bar and watching Faith pour
the scotch in his glass.

“What...
she got a boyfriend with a gambling problem?”

“She's
got a crazy ex who used to beat her, stalking her,” he said,
shaking his head.

“So
you find him, you take a nine iron to his knee caps and a steel toed
boot to his cock and tell him he better stay the fuck away or the
next time they see you, they'll be beat so badly that they'll be
lucky to spend the rest of their life as a vegetable, blinking at a
hospital ceiling.”

Xander
laughed, shaking his head at her. “Sounds like something you've
done before,” he said. She shrugged a shoulder and he knew,
without a shadow of doubt, that she was absolutely capable.

“You're
worried because of that last case... the secretary...”

“Hannah.
Clary...” he said, an image of her flashing into his head. The
day she came to his office. Dressed in immaculate business clothes,
despite the bad neighborhood, her long black hair pulled back and her
big gray eyes scared but determined. She had been carrying a thousand
dollars of cash in her purse, and a box full of death threats under
her arm.

“Yeah...
Elliott Michaels girlfriend,” she nodded. She glanced over at
the men in the corner, her eyes squinting a little. Curiosity?
Distaste? He could never quite gauge how she felt about them. “Look,”
she said, leaning on the bar toward him, “that wasn't your
fault. I know you think it was. But she didn't come to you soon
enough. If she had called you a week earlier, you would have found
the crazy bitch and Hannah wouldn't have gotten hurt. But you didn't
have enough time. And besides, Hannah is fine.”

“You
don't know that,” Xander shook his head. He couldn't bring
himself to go back to the hospital after the first time.

“She's
a woman,” Faith said, rolling her eyes. “Our entire lives
are spent dealing with pain and learning to move past it. That's what
we do. She's fine.” She poured him one last drink, two fingers
instead of three, and reached to put the scotch back on the shelf.
“So, what's the deal?”

“She's
lying to me.”

“About?”

“Everything.
Except maybe the fight she had with him the night she came to me. She
alluded to the fact that he had been stalking her for four months.
Since she moved here. But it's been going on for years. She worked at
the diner next door. The other waitresses said they saw driver's
licenses from several other states.”

“She
worked next door?” Faith asked, looking taken aback. “And
you chose not to tell me this until now... why?” she asked.
“You're losing it, slick. Show me the picture again.”

Xander
passed it across the bar. “It's a close up. Imagine her in a
black and mustard striped shirt...”

“No,”
Faith shook her head. “No. In a huge sweater and leggings,”
Faith said, squinting at the pictures.

Xander
felt hope swell up in her chest. “You've seen her.”

“Yeah.
One night after we closed up. She was just leaving the diner. Vin
walked me out front and his son...”

“Which
one?” Xander asked, taking out his notebook.

“Anthony,”
Faith supplied. “The loser. Anyway Vin walked me outside and
Anthony was talking to her. She was pressed back against the wall of
the building and he was moving too close to her I guess. And she made
a fist and brought up this pointed key chain and stabbed the points
into his hand as he went to reach for her hair.”

Xander
looked up. “Seriously?”

Faith
nodded, looking down at the picture, smiling slightly. Like she
approved. Knowing Faith, she did. “Yeah. He screamed like a
baby. And he cocked his arm back like he was gonna hit her and Vin
yelled,” she laughed a little, “told him that he was
asking for it. That you don't corner a woman at two in the
morning...”

“What
was she doing during this?”

“She
was watching Anthony. Like she was expecting him to go back at her.
But then Anthony was cursing and getting into a cab. She walked past
us, tucked forward into herself. She said thank you to Vin and
hurried on her way.”

“You
never saw her again?”

“No.
And I would have remembered after that. We usually don't get out of
here until after three or four in the morning...”

“Well,
it's something I guess. I'm shocked Anthony let that go.”

“Well...”
Faith said, smiling wickedly. “I may have had a little
something to do with that.”

Xander
shook his head. “Of course you did.”

It
was something else. Another piece in the puzzle. A puzzle that,
admittedly, still had a lot of missing pieces. But he was making
progress.

“She
has training,” Faith said, watching him mull over things, his
eyes far away.

“What
do you mean?”

“Training.
Like some sort of self-defense training. And not just the crap at a
Y. I mean she's had lessons.”

“Why
would you say that?” So what if she brought up a key chain
weapon and stabbed someone. Plenty of women could do that without
training.

“Because
I've had training,” Faith shrugged. “She was small but
she knew how to use that. A battered woman shrinks. She rose up. She
stepped forward, balanced her weight. She thrust in an uppercut
across her body. She threw all her weight into it. Someone taught her
that. And I'm assuming it wasn't her abusive ex-boyfriend.”

Xander
raked a hand over his face. “Why does this matter, Faith?”

“Because
you can find him,” she said, “or her. In one of those
states. It will probably be the first state she ran to. The first
state will have traces of her. She wouldn't have been so clever or
careful back then. And one of the first things she would have wanted
to do once she got away from him, would be to learn to defend
herself.”

It
was a good point. If he could figure out which of the states was the
first, he could find her. The people she touched, the places she
went. He could get more bits and pieces. He sighed thinking of all
the work it was going to take. Hours on the computer and the phone.
Days. Weeks probably before he could even get a name. A name of the
monster who tortured her.

“No,”
Faith said, moving to lean against the back bar.

“No
what?”

“No,
you cant ask her,” she said, a smile toying at her lips. “I
know you better than anyone else,” she said and it was the
truth. “I know you are thinking about how much time and energy
this will take and if you should just confront her about it. The
answer is no.”

“Because
she'd run.”

Faith
nodded. “Because she'd run.” She watched him for a
moment, his big frame shrinking into itself slightly. Sitting more
stooped than he usually did. “You like her, don't you?”

“I
just met her,” Xander shook his head.

“Where
is she sleeping?” Faith asked, watching his head snap up and
smiling.

“I'm
not fucking her,” Xander said. Nope. And he wasn't going to. No
way. That would be completely inappropriate.

“But
you want to.”

“Yeah,”
he admitted.

Faith
pursed her lips. “Weird,” she said after a minute.

“I'm
so screwed,” he sighed, shaking his head. He should have known
Faith would just tell him what he already knew. If there's one thing
you could count on her for, it was bluntness.

“Look...
what's the harm? You got an itch, scratch it,” she shrugged.

“She's
damaged,” he grumbled.

“Aren't
we all?” Faith laughed. “If she wants you too... I say go
for it. Once you handle her little situation, she can go back to her
old life. Her old friends. She'll be out of your hair.” She
looked at him for a minute, leaning closer. “Unless, of course,
you don't want her out of your hair.”

“Don't
be ridiculous,” Xander snorted, getting up off his chair.

“Oh,
don't get your panties in a bunch,” Faith smiled. A real,
genuine smile. Not condescending or wry. Just a happy smile. It was
such a rare, lovely thing to see. Then she slanted her eyes sideways
as the men in the corner started to stand, buttoning their jackets,
and the smile disappeared. “Look,” she said, her tone
serious again, “if you need any help with her case, let me
know. I could show her picture around.”

“I
don't want it getting out that I am connected to her in any way. He
will know right where to look for her. And I have a feeling he's a
lot bigger threat than she has let on. Her neighbor said they looked
professional. That two of them followed behind the main guy like he
was their boss. I mean... who has a system like that other than...”

“Organized
crime,” Faith finished, watching her boss lead the other men
out of the bar.

“Exactly.
And out of state organized crime. I have no idea who she could be
dealing with. The Italians, Polish, Irish...”

“Or,
worse yet... the Russians,” Faith said, looking concerned about
the prospect. He hadn't been around a lot of the crime syndicates in
his time, knowing what he knew about getting too wrapped up in their
business... but Faith had. Faith knew just about everything there was
to know. And if the Russians worried her, he should be scared
shitless.

“Mr.
Rhodes,” Vin's voice called, reaching out and rapping him on
the shoulder a few times. “I haven't seen you in here much
lately.”

Xander
forced a smile. “I've been getting plastered at a place around
the corner from me. I can crawl home if I have to,” he said,
shrugging.

Vin
laughed, a short, forced sort of noise. “So, what brings you
by?”

Xander
took a breath. “Just catching up with Faith. Talking about the
last case I had.” At Vin's lifted brow, he went on. “The
case with the EM Corp CEO and his girlfriend...”

“You
really fucked that one up, huh?” Vin asked, rapping him on the
back again. “No wonder you're drinking. Well, I have a meeting.
Faith,” he said, looking over at her, a strange mix of
authority and respect in his tone. One day he really needed to figure
out what the deal was with her and them. “I'll be back for
dinner. Tell the idiots in the kitchen to have my food ready by
eight. And if Anthony comes in here... he doesn't get behind that
bar. Understand?”

“Oh,
looking forward to it,” Faith said dryly.

Vin
shrugged, waving a hand as if saying 'what can you do'. “Xander.
Your drinks are covered. Better luck on your next case,” he
said, moving out through the back.

“If
I hadn't seen him smash in some twenty-year old's kneecaps, I would
swear he was just a normal, nice Italian father.”

“Yeah,”
Faith said, looking at the door he had left through. “That's
the problem with people who were raised in crime... they can cover it
well. Which is likely how your girl got herself so wrapped up in it.”

“How
the fuck am I supposed to convince some crime boss to stop stalking
his ex girlfriend?”

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