Merchants with Evil Intent (38 page)

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Authors: Kerrie DuBrock

BOOK: Merchants with Evil Intent
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She was greeted by Ian standing in the
kitchen.

      
“Where do you think you’re going lass?”
Ian questioned, arms folded across his chest.

      
“For a run, not that it’s your business.”

      
He came towards her and she held her
ground. She grew up with cops, scarier looking ones. He wouldn’t deter her.

      
He tapped his index finger to his chin.
“You’ll stay here where it’s nice, warm and safe.”

      
She scoffed, “Really? Who’s going to stop
me?”

      
“That t’would
be
me, gel,” a deep, sexy voice replied.

      
She turned and scowled. “Look Beavis and
Butthead I’m going for a run and neither of you can stop me.”

      
“Good luck with this, aye?” Ian chuckled
and patted Declan on the back, scampering away.

      
Camryn lifted her chin.

      
“Fine, I’ll go with you.”

      
“No need,” she replied snippily over her
shoulder, walking to the back door.

      
Their hands met on the door knob.

      
She felt his warm breath on her neck and steeled
herself not to turn. If she did, she’d lose all resolve.

      
She lifted his hand from the knob and
elbowed him out of the way.

      
He dug his hands in jeans pocket and
watched her sprint towards the strand.

      
“The gel has spirit!” Siobhan mumbled,
wiping her hands on her apron.

      
Declan wrapped his arm around her,
laughing, “Aye, she does.”

      
“Are ya not goin’ after her?”

      
“In a bit.
I’m
givin’ her a head start.”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Travers dimmed the headlights as he
approached the address. Butler recognized several cars strategically
surrounding the house. McShane stood outside his car, waiting for them.

      
“The house is surrounded. We’re going to
walk right up to the fuckin’ door and if he doesn’t answer right away…” McShane
was cut off with a shout.

      
“Garage door!” someone yelled.

      
Butler removed his gun from his holster
and ran towards the garage.

      
Tires squealed and the stench of burning
rubber stung his nose.

      
A car fishtailed coming out of the
dilapidated garage. When the driver righted it the cars speed increased,
heading straight for Butler.

      
Butler aimed and fired.

      
Someone pushed him from the side sending
him out of the path of the car.

      
He tried to regain his balance, but fell
short when his head smacked against a fire hydrant.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn ran fast at first. She needed to
get away; from him, from them, from life.

      
She reached inside her bra and turned the
I-Pod on and adjusted the volume to high. Heavy metal…it fit her mood.

      
The sand was a nice change from cement.
It challenged and worked her muscles rigorously. She gulped the ocean air
steadily through her nose and mouth.

      
Concentrating on the intricate musical
rhythms she ran harder.

      
Turning her head to watch the waves lick
the shore she spotted something from the corner of her eye.

      
Declan kept an easy pace alongside her.

      
She ignored him and ran faster.

      
When he caught up, he flashed his dimples
at her.

      
Abruptly she stopped, turned and ran back
the way she came.

      
He again caught up and ran in front of
her.

      
This time he stopped suddenly, turned, causing
her to run into him and in the process knocked him onto his back, where she
fell on top of him.

      
The force of the fall knocked the
headphones from her ears.

      
“Lass, if ya wanted me on me back, ya
just had to say so,” he replied huskily.

      
She was going to reply when she felt a
vibration against upper thigh.

      
“Leave me alone,” she scowled and pushed
away from him.

      
Declan sighed, as she ran away. “It’s me
mobile, gel!” He jammed his hand in his pocket to retrieve it.

      
“Hello?” he murmured, watching Camryn run
back into the house.

      
“Declan? It’s Maeve Gordon. Listen, a
bloke came in here lookin’ for that Camryn gel.”

      
He stood slowly. “What did he look like?”

      
“Well, he had short dark hair, a beard
and moustache. He was tall, too, like
yourself
.”

      
“Did he say what he wanted with the gel?”

      
“Nay, just that he thought she was here.
He asked aboot Mickey as well. I didna tell him Mickey had been here,” she
replied nervously. “I’m not sure he believed me.”

      
“Maeve, I’ll send Ian straight-away. Keep
your door locked, and call if he comes ‘round again.”

      
Declan sprinted back to the house.

      
“Ian!”

      
“Aye?”
Ian
replied from the den.

      
“Ya need to get to Maeve’s. A man was
there looking for Camryn. It doesna fit Orlov’s description, but he may have
changed his appearance.”

      
Ian headed towards the door. “I’ll call
ya. In the meantime make sure the gel stays in the house, aye?”

      
Declan nodded solemnly; he wouldna let
her out of his sight.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn stomped to her room. She wanted
him the night before and he pushed her away.

      
She pulled out her cell phone.

      
She frowned when the call went to
voicemail.

      
“John, did you get me a ticket yet? I’m
so
ready to leave!”

      
Throwing the phone on the bed she stripped
out of her running suit and walked into the bathroom and showered.

      
She tried to get him out of her head, but
it was damn near impossible.

      
What was it that made her want to give up
her ideals of waiting for marriage?

      
Well, his looks had something to do with
it. He’s a handsome man. No, he’s sexy. His shoulder length jet black hair, the
way his sky blue eyes smoldered when he looked at her, the thick muscles in his
arms.

      
She began to wonder what he looked like
naked. Was he muscular everywhere?

      
Feeling a bit warm, she adjusted the
water temperature. She wondered if cold water had the same effect on women as
it did with men.

      
Ah! Better!

      
Until she started thinking about him
wrapping his arms around her.

      
Damn!

      
She shampooed and washed quickly. After
drying off and combing her hair she wrapped the towel around her and stepped
from the washroom.

      
She’d surf the internet to take her mind
off him and maybe take a nap.

      
A rapid knock sounded against her door.

      
“Camryn!
I know
you’re in there,” Declan stated loudly when she didn’t respond.

      
She scowled, pulling the door open.
“What?”

      
Declan couldn’t form words.

      
“Look, buddy, you knocked on my door.
What do you want?”

      
“Um, I’m here to ask you for a date.”

      
She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted,
“Is that a fact?”

      
“Aye.
Tonight,”
he replied with a sexy lop-sided grin.

      
Damn,
there he goes! Flashing his dimples!

      
“Where?” she asked,
indifferent.

      
“Here, just the two of us.” He relaxed
against the door jamb, crossing his muscular arms casually against his chest.

      
She looked absolutely fetching wearing a
green towel.

      
“I’ll think about it,” she murmured,
promptly closing the door.

      
Declan’s eyes widened in surprise.

      
He stomped away, cursing under his
breath, as heat rose to his face.

      
As he descended the stairs he heard a
creak of a door and stopped mid-step.

      
“What time?” she shouted.

      
He grinned, “One hour.”

      
“See you then.”

      
Camryn closed the door and leaned against
it, giggling.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Viktor knew the old lady lied to him. He crossed
the street and walked into the Wild Knight. There were a few patrons at tables
so he opted for a stool at the bar.

      
Kelly, the waitress, served him vodka
neat. He didn’t care for the stares she was giving him.

      
He took a gulp of his drink and slammed
the glass down on the polished bar. “See something you like, Kelly?” he
sneered.

      
She grinned and sidled closer to him,
“Maybe.”

      
“Is there somewhere close where I can lay
my head and perhaps yours?”

      
Peter came around the bar with empty
mugs.
“Aye!
There’s Gordon’s across the street or a
bit further down the road is Teaghan’s,” he offered.

      
Viktor wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t care
for Gordon’s. I’ll try Teaghan’s. You have directions?”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Joe awoke with an EMT working on him. He
struggled to a sitting position.

      
“Easy detective, you have a mondo head
wound.”

      
“What happened?” Joe asked, groggily.

      
“Your head slammed into a fire hydrant.”

      
“That’d explain the huge fucking headache
I have,” Joe grimaced.

      
Emergency lights flashed, making him
dizzy and nauseous. He closed his eyes to block it out, but saw flashes under
his eyelids.

      
“Where’s McShane?” Joe mumbled.

      
“He’s on his way to Community. An out of
control car slammed into him.” The EMT replied.

      
“Christ! Where’s Travers?”

      
“Hey, anyone here named Travers?”

      
For several long minutes Joe heard the
scraping of metal against metal and the beeping sound of a tow truck in
reverse. He tried to sit up again but someone gently pushed him back onto the
gurney.

      
“Hey.”

      
Finally a voice he recognized. He opened
his eyes and saw Travers.

      
“What happened?” Joe hoarsely asked.

      
“You got him and he got McShane,” Travers
sighed.

      
“Is McShane…

      
“Nah.
That old bastard?
He was bitching at the EMT’s when they put
him on the gurney! He saved your life, ya dumb ass! Standing in the middle of
the street like Dirty Harry! Are you fuckin’ crazy?” Travers admonished.

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