Sexy/Dangerous (15 page)

“Find the Honda’s last known location. With all the damage to it, it couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll begin our search there when we arrive.”

Ossie was stirring in the backseat, which meant the med was wearing off. Good, Max thought. She didn’t want to have to carry him. She looked over at Adam. He’d been a trooper so far. Not once had he told her
how to drive or second-guessed any of the choices she’d made since leaving his place. She appreciated it, too. First chance she got, she planned to give him his just reward; not that she knew when that would be, because they were a little busy at the moment, but it would be ripe and ready when the time came. “I’m going to give Ossie a few more minutes to come off the drugs then we’ll head out.”

A skeptical Adam looked around. “Where?”

“Friend’s place. About six blocks. We’ll hole up there until morning.”

After all they’d been through, if she had told him they were waiting for the biblical pillar of cloud to lead them to safety, he would have been okay with it. Max Blake knew her job. She was fierce, beautiful, and deadly, and he was glad she was on his side.

Max and Adam spent the next few minutes preparing to abandon the Honda. She figured by morning the vehicle would either be stolen or stripped within an inch of its life. Either way, she hoped that anyone looking for Adam would lose the trail.

When they were ready, they got out with the dogs and started walking up the street. He had the prototype and his clothes stashed in the big duffel that had been resting on the backseat. Max was shouldering another duffel that held her laptop, a few personal necessities, and her toys.

It was a warm night. There was minimal traffic going up and down the small street and even less people. The area looked to be a forgotten place. The stores that had once been a viable and necessary part of the community were boarded up, and stood like aging hulks in the darkness. On the corner coming up was a
mom-and-pop liquor store. Its lights flashed like a multicolored beacon.

A small group of men were hanging in front of the place, laughing and signifying, but when Max, Adam, and the dogs walked out of the darkness and into the store’s garish light, not a sound could be heard. The men seemed to sense the aura of danger surrounding Max as she passed by; Adam certainly did. No one moved or said a word.

A few blocks up, Max led Adam and the dogs around to the back of an old brick building that looked as abandoned as its neighbors. He could see boards over the windows and a few derelict cars languishing in what had once served as the parking lot. She walked up to a metal door and beat on it with the edge of her closed fist. When no one answered, she pounded again. A few seconds later a small panel in the upper portion of the door slid open and a pair of eyes filled the space. “Yeah?”

The voice came through a speaker but the dark made it impossible for Adam to determine its location.

Max said, “Tell Sweetness that Jinga’s here.”

The eyes studied Max and then Adam and the dogs. The panel closed just as noiselessly as it had opened. He looked over at Max but she was too busy scanning their surroundings to notice. A few minutes later the door was opened and they all went inside.

It took Adam’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. They were standing in what looked to be a bank lobby. He could see the teller stations and the counters along the walls, but everything, including the floors, was covered in dust, making the place look as abandoned on the inside as it appeared to be on the outside. The man who’d let them in, a buffed-up brother wearing a black
suit and black turtleneck, was also armed. “This way,” he said.

Adam looked over at Max. She winked, but he could see the weariness in her eyes.

Their host ushered them onto an elevator whose walls were encased in the quilted padding usually reserved for freight elevators. The ride up took only a few minutes. According to the display panel, they were on the sixth floor when the doors opened again. They stepped out into a hallway of another world. The soft blue paint and the framed art lining the walls could have been the intro to any fancy penthouse apartment in New York or L.A. As they followed their guide, rooms to the right and left offered fleeting glimpses of expensive modern furniture, lavish drapes, and gleaming curio cabinets holding crystal.

Where are we?
an amazed Adam wanted to know. Who’d created this slice of heaven in the middle of the struggling streets outside, and why?

The answer came in the form of a huge, bald, light-skinned man dressed in a gray silk turtleneck and dark pants. He stepped out of a room at the end of the hall and, at the sight of Max, spread open his long muscular arms like wings and said in a voice filled with knowing and affection, “Jinga.”

Adam watched Max step up to the hug and return it with equal affection. “How are you, Sweetness?”

“Always glad to entertain a queen. How have you been?”

The man smiled down at Ruby and Ossie. “Hey, you two. You been keeping your mama out of trouble?” He scratched their necks.

Only then did the man train his golden assessing eyes on Adam. “And this is?”

Adam said, “Adam Gary.”

Sweetness paused, studied Adam for a moment, then asked, “
Dr.
Adam Gary?”

Adam was surprised by the recognition. “Yes.”

“I read about you in
Time
magazine. Welcome to my home.”

“Thanks for taking us in.”

“The only time I see this lady lately is when she needs something,” he said, but again the affection in his voice was easy to hear. “Come on in. You all hungry?”

“Starving.” Max admitted.

“Good. The chef is here until midnight.”

Adam had a hundred questions he wanted answered but decided to wait until he knew more about what was going on.

For dinner, they were given a choice of prime rib or orange glazed Cornish hens. Max chose the hens. Adam went with the beef. The main course, framed by savory veggies and still warm yeast rolls, was served in a dining room straight out of a decorator’s magazine. The long table with its wine-red runner could easily sit twelve, so they congregated on one end while the dogs settled in on the far side of the room. Sweetness had sent one of his employees out to get food for Ruby and Ossie and they were patiently awaiting his return.

In the meantime, the three humans started in on their meals.

The food was fabulous, and Adam didn’t realize just how hungry he was until he dug in. “Tell your chef thanks,” a grateful Adam said to Sweetness.

Sweetness nodded. “I will.”

Adam could see the man watching him discreetly, but he ignored the scrutiny for now in favor of satisfying his empty stomach. He couldn’t ignore how tired Max appeared, however. Watching her raise the wine goblet to her lips, he noticed that her motions had slowed. She was still alert, but visibly less animated. Which was only to be expected when one spent the day kicking butt.
What a woman!
Shaking his head with amused awe, he went back to his plate.

After the meal, Sweetness said to Max, “So, tell me what’s going on.”

“You know I can’t tell you everything.”

“Understood.”

“Here’s the basics…” Max told him as much as she thought he needed to grasp the situation. She left out the part about her connection to Mykal Chandler and his shadowy organization, NIA. Mykal and his half brother, Drake Randolph, Detroit’s mayor, formed the syndicate a few years back to battle crime by any means necessary. Sweetness didn’t need to be in Myk’s business, just like Myk didn’t need to be in his.

Sweetness listened to the part about the Hummer. “The Army?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“The man was dressed in Army fatigues, Sweet.”

“That’s deep.”

“No kidding.”

Sweetness turned his hawk gold eyes on Adam, who met the gaze easily. He could see the man sizing him up.

Sweet finally asked, “What do you think all this is about, Dr. Gary?”

It was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, but
Adam had been mulling it over all day, and thought he had come up with the only answer that made sense. “Weapons. Somebody somewhere thinks my prototype can be turned into a weapon.”

Sweetness, sitting in a high-back chair that could have come from Windsor Castle, held up his wine goblet, smiled and said, “Bingo!”

Max stared. It made perfect sense. “Can it be
modified for that?”

“Theoretically anything that generates energy has the potential,” came Adam’s reply. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he was on the right track. It angered him. He hadn’t spent the last ten years trying to perfect a device designed to bring hope just so it could be jacked and morphed into something dark and deadly. He’d destroy it first.

Max asked Sweetness, “Where’d you place my bags?”

“In your room. Do you need them?”

“Just the laptop.”

Adam had no idea how the signal was passed, but a few minutes later one of Sweetness’s employees, a short burly man who looked like a miniature version of an African American sumo, set the laptop on the table in front of Max then exited silently.

Max lifted the top and booted up. Once the OS was ready, she keyed in the commands to access the software she’d downloaded from Portia. Nothing happened
for a few seconds, and then to Max’s surprise a wavering hologram of Portia appeared in the air above the laptop. “Wow!” she yelled.

Portia could be seen smiling as she asked, “How cool is this?”

Max looked at the men and they appeared just as stunned. “You have gone to the mountaintop on this one, girlfriend,” Max crowed excitedly.

“Thanks. Something I’ve been playing with for a while. How are you?”

“Speechless.”

Portia’s image laughed. “Besides that?”

“In one piece, no thanks to the opposition, but we’re with a friend.”

“Glad to hear that. I’ve been worried.”

Max then told Portia all that had happened since their last conversation. She also related Adam’s theory.

Portia listened and at the end said, “Dr. Gary may be right. From the chatter I’m hearing, something is definitely whack at the Pentagon. I talked to Gadget a bit ago and he said Hannibal is sending in some undercover crews to fumigate the place, but a few of the rats got away. They may be too busy running to pay much attention to the prototype, but I wouldn’t count on that.” Then, as if thinking out loud, she added, “A weapon. Interesting.”

Adam had a question. “Has there been anything else on the news about the prototype?”

“No, and that’s been interesting, too. One minute you were all over the place, now, nothing. It’s as if the story never existed.”

Max was confused. “Nothing from the press?”

“Not a peep.”

Max asked, “Do you think the government has put the info on lockdown or is this more magic from the Big Bad Wolf?”

“No idea. Oil prices climbed back to their usual numbers, though. It’s as if the industry is no longer worried about the doc’s baby impacting their profits.”

“Maybe because they know something no one else does,” Sweetness speculated. “Maybe they’re confident the prototype won’t reach the market.”

Adam didn’t like the sound of that.

Max didn’t, either.

Portia said, “Best thing to do is get him to Hannibal. If he’s taking Dr. Gary in, this situation is uglier than we know.”

Max agreed. She searched her brain for any other issues needing Portia’s attention. “Anything more on Robinski?”

“No. The Bureau slipped a beacon on him before they deported him, but it died a few minutes after he landed in Malaavia. They don’t know if he found the bug or if it just malfunctioned. Either way, they lost track of him after that.”

Max sighed. “Okay.”

Portia asked, “Have you talked to the Wolf?”

“No. I don’t want to compromise him or my friend. Would you let him know I’m in town, and that I’m safe? You have my coordinates. If he could send the new whip to me, that would be a better move. Just have him park it outside and I’ll pick it up. We’ll roll out soon as it arrives.”

“Will do. I’ll have him download this software so you won’t have to use your phone. Definitely don’t let the doc use his. In fact, ditch it. We know the perps
already have his number and are probably monitoring it as we speak. You and the Wolf can talk once you reach the sunflowers.”

Max nodded. “Okay, Portia. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The hologram disappeared.

Sweetness said in awe, “Now, that was something. How much do you think she’d charge me to buy that software?”

Max responded, “Knowing Portia, more than all the gold in Switzerland.” She was exhausted. The rigorous day had finally caught up with her, and she yawned behind her hand. “I need to go to bed.”

Sweetness smiled, “Then come on.”

It was past midnight. Their host led them through his home’s vast spaces and to a red door beautifully carved in an African influenced motif. Inside the large room, the same air was reflected in the sumptuous linen drapes, the subtle animal prints, and the furniture made of teak. There were beaded floor pillows covered in reds and golds, and on the far side of the room, a kidney-shaped sunken tub with gold fixtures. Adam was impressed.

Sweetness said, “You should find everything you need, Jinga. If not, you know the routine.”

Max nodded. The dogs found themselves a comfortable place and laid down.

Sweetness turned to Adam. “Dr. Gary, I’ve put you next door.”

Adam hid his disappointment and said to Max, “Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

She smiled sleepily. “’Bye, Doc.” Then turning her back, she stripped herself of the brown shirt and walked to the tub.

Adam’s space next door was decorated along more masculine lines. The dark wood furniture, the shutters covering one whole wall, and the large ceiling fan gave off an island vibe. There was a sunken tub in this room, too, and he looked forward to a long chill.

Sweetness told him, “There’s wine in the small fridge. Toiletries in that cabinet. If you need anything else, just pick up the phone and dial two.”

Adam nodded. “Thanks.” As the big man turned to leave, he said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you call her Jinga?”

“Do you know who Jinga was?” Sweetness asked.

Adam didn’t.

“Angolan queen. Fought the Portuguese. Gave them fits.”

Adam smiled. He understood now. “Thanks.”

Sweetness nodded and left.

Alone, a relieved and weary Adam dropped into the nearest chair and held his head in his hands. Never in a million years would he have believed his life would turn into this. He was just a scientist trying to help the world, and now he was…he had no idea where he was, but he was safe and no one was shooting at him or trying to run them off the road. He walked over and turned on the water in the tub. While it ran, he undressed and turned on the CD player in the large entertainment unit. Soft jazz filled the room and he began to relax for what seemed like the first time that day. He looked at the wall separating his room from hers and wondered how she was doing. He hoped she was relaxing and not on her laptop working, but then again, her working on the laptop was helping to keep him out of harm’s way, so he
couldn’t be too mad at her if she was. Setting thoughts of Max aside, he went to check on the tub.

Later, he was lying in the bed, listening to the jazz by the light of a candle he’d lit, when he heard Max’s voice come out of the shadows. “Doc? Are you sleep?”

Surprised, he sat up and looked around. “Where are you?”

“Over here.”

And there she was, crossing the room by the faint illumination of the candle. She was wearing a T-shirt that hit her about mid-thigh. Her legs and feet were bare. As she crawled beneath the crisp cool sheet, he asked, “How’d you get in here?”

She snuggled back against him, and he placed an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. He could smell the fresh clean scent of her body. She felt good against him.

In a tired-sounding voice she answered, “The shutters are really a door.”

Adam assumed she was referring to the wall-high shutters he’d assumed to be simply shutters. He’d have to check it out in the morning. In the meantime he was glad to have her near and pleased that she’d sought him out. “Tell me about Sweetness. Who is he? What’s he do?”

But girlfriend was sleep. Gone. Adam chuckled softly. Guess his questions would have to wait. Content, he settled in and was soon asleep, too.

The next morning, it took Max a few moments to remember where she was. Once she did, she turned gently onto her stomach and watched him sleep. In the brief time they’d known each other, they’d gone from growling adversaries to lovers. She’d never had a man
like him in her life before. In her world, the men lived on the edge, dangerous deadly men who didn’t mind straddling the thin line between what was legal and what was not as long as the price was right. This gentle, sexy man of science was rooted in other things. She didn’t think he had a dishonest bone in his body. He had no weapons experience and wouldn’t know the first thing about covert operations, but she would remember him fondly once she delivered him to the President and they each went their separate ways.

The thought of moving on was disturbing, and because she wasn’t the kind to do ties, she wondered why. She thought maybe it grew out of wanting to know more about him. In reality, she knew very little. Could he dance, sing? Was he AME? Who’d he hang out with in high school? Who was his first love? The answers hidden inside that extra large brain of his weren’t destined for her, though. They would belong to some unknown woman in his future; a woman he’d wake up next to each morning, and who probably didn’t roll with trained dogs and a grenade launcher. Thinking about that mythical woman didn’t sit well, either, but because she didn’t want to delve too deeply into her feelings, she left the bed as quietly as she could to begin the day.

Dressed and ready to rock and roll, Max and the dogs found Sweetness having his coffee in the dining room. He was reading the morning paper and eating from a large stack of pancakes.

At her entrance, he looked up and saluted her with his filled cup of coffee. “Morning, Jinga.”

“Hey, Sweet. My whip arrive?”

“Yep. It’s stashed in the garage downstairs.”

He directed her to the coffee and to the various morning delights chilling under covers on the steam table. She put some bacon, toast, and fruit on her plate then sat down to join him.

He asked, “How’d you sleep?”

She thought about cuddling with Adam and smiled gently. “Okay.” She took a sip of the coffee and let it flow into her still sleepy veins. “Thanks for the shelter.”

“For you, the world.”

She grinned and started in on her meal. She’d first met Sweet while working Homicide. Back then, he’d been consolidating his power, and the bodies of his rivals were showing up in Dumpsters and alleys all over town. A few had even been fished out of the river, but no charges ever came down because there’d been no solid evidence linking the deaths to anyone, least of all Sweetness. Tall, light-skinned, and movie star fine, he was the city’s Mr. Big. Mayor Drake Randolph might rule above, but Eric Cole, aka Sweetness, ruled Detroit’s underworld.

“Jinga, I can send some of my crew to ride with you, if you think that might help.”

“Thanks, but if the government’s involved, you should probably stay clear.” She studied him for a few moments, then asked quietly, “When are you going to give up this life?”

He smiled softly. “Ah, my conscience.”

“I’m serious, Sweet. I’d hate to read about your corpse being found in an alley somewhere, or worse, you get indicted. Even at your age you are still too pretty to do time.”

Again that smile. “Hey, thirty-seven is not that old.” Then he turned serious. “Truthfully, I have been thinking about it. Wondering what it would be like to just be plain ol’ Eric. You know?”

She did. Sometimes she just wanted to be plain ol’ Maxine Blake from small-town Texas. “I’ll help any way I can.”

“I know. Just not sure if I can walk away. The power, the money, the Life—it’s in my blood.” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Max knew this was his way of ending the conversation, and she respected that. The idea that he was even thinking about change made her hopeful, though. Had Sweetness lived in the fifteenth or sixteenth century, he would have been a prince, a doge. He was the consummate renaissance man—cultured, Harvard educated, and had traveled the world—but underneath all that refinement beat the heart of a gangsta. He considered himself a gentleman gangster, though, a throwback modeled on the suave and sophisticated Black kingpins who ruled Harlem in the thirties. Like them, he didn’t deal drugs, but in spite of his other illegal dealings, he did his part for the community by donating to citywide charities and using his ties to trucking to provide fresh produce to many of the smaller food banks not funded by the large corporations. But in Max’s mind, the good deeds didn’t make him any less responsible for the crimes committed in his name. Which is why she wanted him to leave the Life. With his education, big heart, and smarts, she knew he could be so much more.

When Adam entered the dining room, he found Max and Sweetness bent over a map. She looked up and gave him a smile. “Mornin’, Doc.”

Sweetness nodded. “Good morning, Dr. Gary. I hope you slept well.”

“I did. Thanks.”

Sweetness directed him to the breakfast buffet. Adam fixed himself a plate then sat. Max said to him, “I’m trying to decide what route to take.”

“Where are we going?”

“Central Ohio.”

“Shortest distance between two points is always a straight line,” he quoted around a bite of toast.

Max smiled and said, “Thank you, professor.”

“Any time.” The amused Adam felt no need to join the huddle around the map. He knew she didn’t need his help, and he was okay with it.

A voice filled the air in the room. “Boss, we got problems.”

Sweetness raised his head. “What kind?”

“The fucking Army.”

Sweetness stared at Max. Adam froze.

Sweetness asked, “Where are they?”

“Half a block down. They’re going door-to-door. Got a bunch of dogs with them.”

“Okay. You know what to do.”

Sweetness’s eyes were hard. “Time for you to go, Jinga. We’ll hold off the Portuguese for as long as we can.”