Rough Edges (26 page)

B
ella waited until she was sure Victor and Payton were both occupied before she left her room. Leigh had said Lila was nearby, and there was something Bella needed to do before that changed.

She pulled her IV stand along, not even caring that her ass was hanging out the back of her hospital gown.

The small office across the hall—the one Leigh used when she was here—was serving as Lila's holding cell. Clay stood outside, visibly armed.

He held up his hand. “Payton said no one was allowed inside. He's arranging for her to be moved to a secure facility.”

“I don't give a shit what Payton said. Move aside.”

“I can't let you hurt her.”

“I have no intention of hurting her.”

“Right now,” he finished. “Ten minutes from now you might feel very differently.”

Bella got up close to Clay. “Please don't make me get ugly. I'm too tired for ugly. All I want to do is talk to her.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “You and I have been through hell together at least three times. I love you like a sister, but I know you. You're not so good with talk. You prefer action.”

“I'm sick. Weak. Hell, as far as the world is concerned, I'm already dead. There's really not much I could do to her before you could stop me. Unless you've gotten soft since hooking up with Leigh.”

He lifted a brow in amusement. “Does that kind of obvious baiting normally work for you on fully grown men?”

“You'd be surprised how often, honey. Now step aside and let me have a chat with my secretary.”

“I'm going to regret this, aren't I?” he asked.

“You're going to regret trying to stop me more. I know you've got a great health plan, with your own personal doctor, but that doesn't mean you should take chances.”

Clay shook his head and stepped aside. “Go for it. But if I so much as hear you raise your voice at that woman, you're out of there. You're supposed to be playing dead, anyway.”

“I'll play dead when I'm done. Once Payton trucks her off, we'll never hear from her again. I have a right to ask the woman why she tried to kill me.”

Clay opened the door. Bella stepped inside and closed it behind herself, turning the lock.

“That won't stop me from coming through the glass,” promised Clay from the other side of the door.

Bella ignored him and faced the woman she had thought was her friend.

“I'm so sorry,” Lila said, breaking down into tears again. Her nose and eyes were already red and swollen from the sobfest she'd been having. There was a mostly empty box of tissues beside her and a trash can full of the refuse.

Bella felt a moment of pity for the woman. Like Victor had said, what person wouldn't do just about anything to protect their child? Bella could only imagine the havoc she'd wreak if someone tried to hurt her baby.

“I'm not here for apologies. I don't care why you did it. I need answers.”

“What answers?”

“I want you to tell me every encounter you had with anyone associated to Stynger. Start with the latest one and work your way back.”

Lila wiped her eyes and sniffed. “His name is Randolph.”

“I know him. He used to work here. Did you meet him?”

“Not this time. He called me. They gave me a special phone to use—one that couldn't be used to trace back to them.”

“So there was more than one person you took orders from?”

“Yes. Whoever called, I did what they said.”

“Stick with Randolph. When was the last time you saw him?”

“In person?”

“Yes.”

“A few weeks ago. He wanted the key to your house. I knew you kept one in your desk. I made a copy for him.”

The idea of that man roaming around her house was almost enough to set her off, but she held it together and focused on the task at hand. “Where did you meet?”

“A grocery store.”

“Which one.”

“The one down the block. I was on my lunch break. We met at the salad bar. He was in line behind me. I set the key down. He picked it up. We never spoke.”

“Did you see what kind of car he drives?”

“A black truck.”

Probably the same one he'd had when he worked at the Edge. “Have you ever seen Norma Stynger in person?”

“No.”

“Spoken to her on the phone?”

“No.”

“Do you know where they're keeping Gage?”

Her face crumpled and tears streamed off her chin. “No. But I know they have him at the same place they have my baby.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of something Randolph said.”

“What?”

“He was upset that they were stuck in one spot now, getting ready for some big move. He said there was barely room to keep my son and that if I didn't cooperate, they'd get rid of him to save space.” She sucked in a huge breath of air to steady her voice. “This was right after Gage went missing. I kept thinking that if Gage saw him, my baby would be safe. Gage would protect him.”

She was right about that. Assuming Gage was able to do anything at all. As long as there was fight left in that man, her child would be safe.

“Did you ever get a feel for how far away it was from here to wherever they're holed up?”

She thought about it for a minute. Then her eyes widened. “Yes. He called me once. Stynger interrupted him, so he was with her. We met a few hours later.”

“How many?”

“Five or six. I saw his truck. It was covered in dust like he'd been out on gravel roads. It had rained the day before, so it had to have been fresh.”

That was something, though it left a hell of a lot of ground to cover. There were miles of dusty gravel roads within five or six hours of Dallas. “What else? Did you hear anything else when he was with Stynger?”

She frowned, thinking. “That's all I can think of.”

“When were you supposed to contact him next?”

“I wasn't. We were going to meet tonight. He promised he'd bring back my baby if I gave you that drug.”

“Where?” demanded Bella.

Lila blinked. “What?”

“Where were you supposed to meet him?”

“There's a park a few miles from here. I was supposed to go there on my way home.”

Bella didn't have much time until then.

She took Lila's hand. From the corner of her eye, she could see Clay watching them. If she made any sudden moves, he'd be in here before she could blink.

“Have you told anyone else this?”

“That I was going to meet Randolph?”

“Yes.”

Lila frowned and sniffed. “I think I told Victor. I don't know. Maybe it was Payton. They were both flinging questions at me like crazy.”

“Do me a favor and don't tell anyone that you told me, okay?”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“I'm not going to do anything,” she said. “I'm a dead woman.”

V
ictor didn't understand why Bella was so quick to sign the legal documents he brought her until he saw her sitting across the park. She didn't look anything like herself, dressed like an old woman the way she was, but Victor had spent way too much time looking into her beautiful gray eyes not to recognize them when he saw them. It didn't matter that she was wearing tons of makeup to age her, or that her baggy clothes hid her figure. She was his woman and he'd know her anywhere, if only by the way his cock woke up and took notice.

He stayed hidden behind the tinted windows of the van, watching her through binoculars.

She sat on a bench, working diligently on a crossword puzzle book. There was an air of watchfulness about her, but her gaze stayed fixed on the page. His guess was she was making use of at least one hidden camera and the screen was tucked inside the covers of her book.

His first instinct was to rush over and shut her down, toss her over his shoulder and dump her in the back of the van. Once he got her there, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd do with her, but it would likely involve some way to restrain her, spanking her ass for scaring him, and a whole lot of licking, kissing and teasing her until she promised never to put herself in harm's way again.

As if any of that would work on Bella.

He sighed in frustration, forcing his line of sight to extend beyond her and the immediate surrounding area. He was here to find Randolph and follow him back to wherever it was he called home. With any luck at all, the man would lead him to Stynger.

And if not, at least they'd have a nice, private place for the conversation that was headed his way.

There was too much at stake not to force Randolph to talk. Gage. Lila's baby. All those innocent souls tortured by Stynger.

Victor wasn't a fan of torture, but he knew the instant he heard about the child that things had changed. Either Randolph was working for Stynger willingly, which meant he deserved what he got, or he was a puppet and might still be able to help Victor take down the woman responsible for pulling the strings so he could be free. A good man would thank him for doing what was necessary to stop her, even if he had to endure a little torture to make it happen.

At least that was what Victor was telling himself.

That thought was better left for another time, so he set it aside and activated his comms. “Do you see her?” he asked Payton, who was in his own vehicle on the far side of the park. He didn't use Bella's name for fear that someone might be eavesdropping, but there was no doubt that Payton would figure it out.

“Someone needs to rein that girl in.”

“Easier said than done.”

The sun was below the horizon now, the sky darkening fast. It was warm enough for there to be a few people enjoying the park, but many of them began heading home in search of dinner and family time. A few joggers set out for some postwork exercise, but as the light failed, even their numbers grew thin.

Bella pushed to her feet slowly, displaying a convincing show of geriatric stiffness. Then again, after what she'd been through over the past few days, maybe it wasn't much of an act.

She settled on another bench a few yards away, doubtlessly seeking a different vantage point.

“What do you want to do?” Payton asked.

It was just the two of them here. Victor was afraid that if they pulled in any more people, the chances of being made would go way up. They couldn't afford that kind of mistake, even if it meant limiting their reach.

And if Victor was being entirely honest, he wondered if someone else at the Edge might be compromised the same way Lila was. Anyone willing to use a child as leverage had an unfair advantage when it came to turncoats. Only a fool would think otherwise. The fewer people involved in this delicate task, the better.

“Stick with the plan. We watch, look for a chance to plant trackers, and then follow. With any luck at all, he'll lead us closer to the prize.”

“Our girl doesn't know the plan,” Payton reminded him. “She's flying solo.”

“I realize that, but if either one of us steps out there, we're made. He knows your face for sure, and I'm not about to risk him recognizing me. We sit tight.”

“If something happens to her—”

“I know,” Victor said. “Believe me. I'll be the first one sprinting that way, guns blazing. But for now we have to let this play out. It's what she'd want us to do.” He knew it was, because he absolutely hated the idea of letting her sit out there in the open, an easy rifle shot from far too many hiding places. “I hope she has the good sense to at least have some body armor on.”

“And a helmet under that wig,” Payton added.

It wasn't possible, but Victor still let himself believe.

As the shadows lengthened across the grass, movement on his left caught his eye. A man on foot walked along a sidewalk that wound through the trees, snaking back and forth between park benches. A couple of joggers passed him by without a second glance, but there was something about him that piqued Victor's interest.

“See the man in the hoodie?” he asked Payton.

“Could be our man. He's heavier than I remember, but it could be something under his sweatshirt.”

Victor had seen photos of Randolph from the employee records. The man was average height with dark, deeply recessed eyes. His dirty blond hair had been buzzed close to his skin, showing off several old scars along his scalp. He was built like a bull, with a thick neck and broad shoulders. The man walking across the park was covered enough that it was hard to tell if he matched that description, but the height was right. So was his walk. He moved like a man comfortable in his own skin, like a man with no fear of what might be heading his way.

“You have a better angle than I do,” Victor said. “Can you see his face?”

“Not enough to be sure.”

“He doesn't have Lila's son.”

“Did you really think he would?” Payton asked. “No way would they give up an advantage like that. Lila was a fool to believe they would.”

Old lady Bella never once looked up from her crossword puzzle book as the man neared, but there was a change in her demeanor, a subtle shift from vigilant to alert. “I think she recognizes him.”

“She's going to go after him,” Payton said. “Ruin the whole thing.”

“She's smarter than that. He's not her target. The queen bee is. We've got to let this play out.”

What choice did he have? If they rushed in to stop her from making contact, Randolph would know he'd been spotted. Their best bet was to tag his car and let him go on his merry way. Taking him into custody and questioning him was the backup plan—done only if plan A went to hell.

“I'm in the parking lot,” Payton said, “putting trackers on every vehicle here.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

They could manage that many. The tracking equipment was in the back of Victor's van. If they kept eyes on Randolph, they'd be able to narrow down which signal was his without trouble.

“I've got an issue,” Payton said.

“What?”

“Police just pulled in. I was only able to tag half the cars.”

Shit. “Do you need a distraction? I could call in a burglary nearby.”

“Hang on. Incoming.” Payton's tone lightened and took on a nonthreatening lilt as he engaged in conversation with the police.

Victor kept tabs on it, but was far more concerned about the shortening distance between Bella and Randolph.

She shifted on the bench and reached into the huge handbag sitting next to her. A ball of yarn rolled out just as Randolph crossed her path. Bella stood to go after it. Before she could reach it, he stopped to pick it up. The second his attention was diverted on the yarn, she grabbed his arm as if she had lost her balance.

There was no doubt in Victor's mind that she'd just tagged him with a tracker. Now all she had to do was back off before she was recognized.

Victor's hands tightened around the binoculars. Bella was not the kind of woman who backed off from anything. She charged forward, roaring into battle against whatever foe stood in her way.

Randolph handed her the ball of yarn. She took it. Thanked him, keeping her head down. Shuffled back to her bench.

He kept walking to the place where he was supposed to meet Lila.

It had worked. Bella kept her cool. Victor held himself back from rushing in to save her when she didn't need it. Randolph was tagged and none the wiser.

Payton's voice rattled in Victor's comms, still dealing with the police. He was weaving some story about a lost coin that had rolled out of his hand and under the row of cars. The coin had been handed down to him by his grandfather, and had so much sentimental value that Payton simply couldn't walk away from it.

The officer was now helping him look for the coin while Payton tagged the rest of the cars in the lot with trackers.

Bella sat back down on the bench and went back to her crossword puzzle book. She'd angled it differently, so that it was facing Randolph, who was now several yards away.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. His pace slowed until he came to a stop.

Warning bells went off in Victor's head. This wasn't good. Randolph should have kept walking.

“We have a problem,” Victor said. “Get the cop out of here.”

“I found it!” shouted Payton with obvious relief. Under his breath, he said, “Status?”

Randolph turned around and looked at Bella. To her credit, she didn't once break character. She sat still and relaxed, a woman completely at ease.

He tilted his head, studying her. Turned around.

“Bella's been made,” Victor said. “I'm going in.”