Marked for Murder Read online

  Ramos came back to the kitchen, and I could hardly contain my enthusiasm. “This is it! Look. It says Rock Climbing Wall.”

  Ramos couldn’t understand what that had to do with anything. “Explain.”

  “Where’s the photo?” Ramos pulled it from his pocket, and I pointed at the rock climbing gear, then showed him the ad for the gym with the rock climbing wall on it. “See? This gym has something to do with finding Isaac.”

  “Let me see.” I handed the ad over, and Ramos examined it. He nodded, thinking that it all made sense now.

  “What makes sense?” I asked.

  “This gym is on a short list of drug drops for one of the gangs. If Isaac is involved with them, he’d need to keep it quiet or risk their wrath. Now it makes sense that he felt desperate enough to kill Ethan to save his own skin.”

  “This is the clue we needed. Let’s go check out the gym. Maybe he’s there.”

  “I’ll check it out later—alone.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised. “You don’t want me to go with you?”

  “Not this time. I think I’ll have better luck finding him on my own. I can call you if he shows up, but it will probably be later tonight. You should take the night off. You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow with the wedding, and you need to be in top shape if you’re going to outsmart Beal. Let me see what I can dig up about Isaac, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Are you sure?” In a way, I didn’t want him to go without me. But, on the other hand, letting him take care of this relieved me more than I cared to admit.

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks, Ramos.” The tension drained away, and I sent him a grateful smile

  He smiled back, thinking that he liked having me in his debt. Maybe I’d even call him Romeo again. His brows rose expectantly.

  “No.”

  He shrugged, thinking it was worth a try.

  I enjoyed the ride back to Thrasher and held on to Ramos a little tighter than I needed to. He didn’t seem to mind. In the parking garage, he took my helmet. He was thinking that I looked worn out and could use a break.

  “I am worn out. It’s been a rough day. But please call me if you find him. No matter how late it is.”

  “I will.”

  I sent him a grateful nod and hurried to my car. Today had been awful, and Ethan’s death still weighed heavily on my heart. With Ramos looking for Ethan’s killer, I could focus on the wedding without worrying that Strickland would find Isaac first.

  Hopefully Beal wouldn’t throw something my way to ruin the wedding that I couldn’t stop. Just thinking about it made my stomach hurt. What in the world did Beal have planned? And how could I ever be ready?

  CHAPTER 13

  The sound of my phone ringing woke me. I grabbed it and said hello while walking out of the bedroom so I wouldn’t disturb Chris.

  “Babe,” Ramos said. “Sorry to wake you, but I’ve got Isaac. He’s not in a cooperative mood, so I was hoping you could help me persuade him to talk.”

  “You bet. Where are you?”

  “I’m at Big Kahuna’s bar in the basement. Come in through the back when you get here.”

  “Okay. See you soon.” I knew Big Kahuna from a while ago. He’d saved me from a drug dealer and was a friend of Ramos’s. He’d even given me my own pool cue stick, which kind of made me an honorary member of his gang, so I had no qualms about meeting Ramos there.

  Keeping quiet, I slipped inside my closet and pulled on my jeans and a t-shirt, along with a zippered sweatshirt. In the bathroom, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Ready to go, I glanced Chris’s way. Should I wake him or leave a note? Ethan’s death, and the threat from Strickland, had taken a toll on him. Besides that, he’d had to stay late at work because of the court case.

  Not wanting him to worry, I decided to leave a note and gently closed the door. In the kitchen, I found a sticky note and wrote that Ramos had found Isaac and that I’d be back soon. Who knew? Maybe I’d be back before Chris woke up? With my luck, it wasn’t likely, but I could always dream.

  I checked my purse to make sure my stun flashlight was charged and ready to go, and grabbed my car keys. I drove to the Tiki Tabu bar, spotting the sign’s familiar bright lights blinking off and on in the darkness. In the parking lot, I spotted Ramos’s car along with a few others.

  A lone light shone down on the back door, casting a yellow glow in the darkness. With a furtive glance around me, I hurried inside. Muffled sounds of music came from the bar, and I followed the dark hallway to the stairwell.

  My footsteps echoed on the wooden planks, sending little shards of nervous tension through me. It was scary to be here in the middle of the night, and the basement seemed deserted. Just before I made it to the bottom of the stairs, Ramos poked his head into the stairwell, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Good. You made it. Come on in.” He was thinking that Isaac was an addict and a thief, who cared for no one but himself. With that attitude, he hoped I could get something from him. Otherwise his only motivation to talk might come down to offering him another fix.

  Discouraged to know that, I followed Ramos into the dank room, finding the same pool table under a lone lightbulb from my last visit. Isaac sat in a chair, his wrists tied to the armrests, and a sullen expression on his face. His upper lip was swollen and his cheek bruised.

  He also sported the gaunt features and telltale tracks on his arms of an addict.

  He caught sight of me and wondered how I knew the hitman. I couldn’t be a cop, and Strickland worked alone, so what did I want? Then he relaxed, thinking the hitman would never kill him in front of a nice lady like me, so maybe there was a way out of this.

  “Hello Isaac,” I said, pacing to stand in front of him. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “Look. You’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t know what you’re after, but it isn’t me, I didn’t do anything wrong.” He was thinking he had to play dumb. There was no way I knew anything about his recent activities.

  “You killed Ethan, and now you’re going to pay.”

  Isaac’s nostrils flared, but he tried to cover his surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ethan was your friend. How could you kill him like that?”

  A prickle of guilt pierced his heart, and he cursed Strickland. If Ethan would have just done what Strickland asked, none of this would have happened. He’d still be alive. Why did Ethan have to change his mind? He’d ruined everything. He shouldn’t have done that. This was all Ethan’s fault, not his.

  “I know Strickland put you up to it. What did he promise? That you’d never go to jail? And you believed him?” I shook my head. “Did you know that Strickland is looking for you?”

  Isaac’s eyes widened. How did I know about Strickland? He’d never told a soul. Had Ethan told me? This was bad. Isaac’s arrangement with Strickland was on rocky ground. If I told anyone about it, Strickland wouldn’t protect him anymore.

  “If I could find out about your deal with Strickland, so can anyone else,” I said. “Now you pose a threat to the prosecuting attorney. How long do you think he’ll let you live? Because of you, he’s tied to Ethan’s murder. He’ll blame you for it and throw you under the bus. Don’t you see what you’ve done?”

  Fueled by rage, I stepped close enough to tower over him. “You killed your best friend. He tried to help you, and what did he get for it? You used him and his friendship to cover for your stupid mistakes. When he took a stand, you beat him to death.”

  I pulled the photo from my purse and held it in front of his eyes. “This was in a frame on his desk at work. It’s Ethan with you—his best friend. You meant something to him. But what did you do? You killed him. In cold blood. You murdered your best friend.”

  Isaac’s face contorted with pain. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident. It’s Strickland’s fault. He told me I was going to jail unless I convinced Ethan to help him. He made me do it. I never
would have gone to Ethan otherwise. You have to believe me.”

  I had to sympathize with Isaac to get him to cooperate. It went against the anger in my heart, but I steeled my nerves and did it anyway. “I do believe you. This is all Strickland’s fault. And there’s only one way out. That means making sure Strickland takes the fall for Ethan’s death. So this is what we’re going to do.

  “First, we’ll meet the detective in charge of the case. You can tell him what happened and that Strickland put you up to it. Once they know it was an accident, they’ll go easy on you, and you can make it right. Strickland won’t be able to touch you after that. Remember, he put you up to this. It wouldn’t have happened otherwise, right?”

  “Yes, but… I don’t want to go to jail.”

  Incensed, I sent him a hard stare. “Did Ethan want to die? He begged you to stop, but did you listen? Did you even give him a chance to fight back?”

  Isaac lowered his head in shame. In his mind, I picked up how he’d surprised Ethan with his attack. The tire iron he’d concealed under his jacket had somehow ended up in his hand. The first blow had knocked Ethan into a stupor. He could have stopped then, but his anger was out of control. He lifted the tire iron again and again—

  I shuttered my mind, not wanting to see anymore. Swallowing back the bile in my throat, I spoke. “What did you do with the tire iron?”

  Isaac’s breath caught. How did I know? Tightening his lips, he refused to answer, thinking that maybe he could escape before I took him to the police. He could run away and start somewhere else. I didn’t have any evidence that he’d killed Ethan. He’d thrown the tire iron into the dumpster at the gym, along with his blood-soaked clothes. No one would find them there, and the dump truck would take them away tomorrow. He could still get away from here. It wasn’t too late.

  “You’re wrong, Isaac,” I answered. “It is too late.” I turned to Ramos. “Let’s put him in the trunk of my car.”

  Ramos nodded, his lips pressed into a grim line. He approached Isaac, and Isaac panicked, jumping to his feet with the chair attached to his arms. He swung the chair toward Ramos, but Ramos easily stepped out of the way. Isaac lost his balance and landed on his knees. He struggled to get to his feet, but I shoved my stun flashlight against his neck and pushed the button.

  His body jerked, and he fell back to the floor, out cold. A wave of satisfaction rolled over me. I knew Ramos could have handled him, but stunning him felt too damn good to pass up.

  Ramos lifted a brow my way. He understood my need to do something to Isaac after he’d killed Ethan. And he appreciated how well my stun flashlight worked without all the blood that made me queasy. It was the perfect weapon for me, plus, no clean-up for him.

  I smiled. That kind of sounded like we were partners. He was the brawn and I was the brains—well, the brains because of my mind reading skills. I liked that. He bent to work on Isaac’s bonds, releasing him from the chair. Then he deftly tied Isaac’s arms behind him. Next, he threw him over his shoulder, and I followed him out to my car.

  I popped my trunk, and Ramos settled Isaac inside, then shut the lid. Concern etched his brow. “Are you sure about taking him in alone?”

  “Yes. I actually think it will be fun to walk into the precinct with a killer in tow. It should sharpen my image, don’t you think?”

  “Are you calling the detective first?” Ramos wondered how Bates would take it.

  “Yeah. I’ll let him know I’m on my way, and he’ll meet me there.” I was taking a chance on Bates, but I figured he’d come around soon enough.

  “Okay. I’ll follow behind to make sure you get there safely.”

  “Thanks.” I wanted to hug Ramos, but I held back, not wanting to cross that line going on between us. “I guess I owe you.”

  He grinned. “Yes… you do.” Our gazes met, and he let his thoughts wander to exactly how he’d take his payment. Unable to pull my gaze away, my heart rate spiked, sending my body temperature to at least a million degrees. Even with my mouth hanging open, I found it hard to breathe. Holy hell!

  He chuckled, thinking I’d stepped into that one all by myself, so I couldn’t be mad at him.

  “Ah!” I slammed my shields shut, along with my mouth, and rushed to open my car door. I needed to put some distance between us before I lost control. Heaving out a breath, I jerked my seat belt into place and closed my eyes.

  That was so not fair. I glanced his way, wanting to send him a dirty look, but he’d already jumped into his car. I shook my head. At least he wasn’t on his motorcycle to tantalize me even more. I tore my gaze from him and focused on what I needed to do next.

  Oh yeah. Call Bates. Thinking about talking to him was like taking a cold shower. I put the call through and took satisfaction to hear Bates answer with a groggy hello. “Hi Bates. This is Shelby. Can you meet me at the precinct? I have Ethan’s killer, and I’m bringing him in.”

  “You’re… what?”

  “Or I can call Detective Harris, although I’d rather not, since he’s getting married tomorrow.”

  “But you can’t arrest anyone,” he said. “You’re not even a cop.”

  “I know. That’s why I need you. Are you coming or not?”

  He hesitated, then blurted. “Fine. I’ll be right there.”

  Setting my phone down, I put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. True to his word, Ramos followed me to the station. As I got out of my car, I waved and watched him drive away.

  I leaned against my car to wait for Bates, enjoying the cool night breeze, satisfied to have caught Isaac so quickly. It also gave me the upper hand with Bates, and I couldn’t help the sardonic smile that twisted my lips.

  A few minutes later, he arrived. Getting out of his car, he came toward me. His brow lifted, and he wondered where the perp was. I smiled and gestured toward the trunk. “He’s in there.”

  Bates was thinking that he shouldn’t be surprised since he was dealing with me, and nothing about me was ever normal. Still, my resourcefulness unnerved him. How had I found the killer so fast? How had I managed to get him into the trunk of my car by myself? He didn’t think I had a gun, and I didn’t look strong enough to overpower a grown man.

  Geeze, I wasn’t that helpless. Sure, I’d had a hitman’s help, but that was part of my resourcefulness. He should know by now that I was a power to be reckoned with, and good at finding guilty people.

  “Since he wasn’t cooperating, I had to stun him. But he should be awake by now.” I popped the trunk open, revealing Isaac, tied up with his eyes wide open.

  Bates swore under his breath, then leaned down to get Isaac out. I caught a burst of panic from Isaac, and his thoughts that he’d bolt if he got the chance. “Be ready,” I said to Bates. “He’ll try to bolt if he can.”

  “I got this,” Bates said. He held Isaac firmly, then told me to shut the trunk. After I’d done that, he pushed Isaac against the car and shoved his face down on the trunk. Now that he was secure, Bates snapped his handcuffs around Isaac’s wrists and threw the rope to me.

  I opened the car door and chucked the rope inside, then pushed the lock button on my key fob. Bates held Isaac around his upper arm in a firm grip. Not wanting Bates to get all the credit, I took Isaac’s other arm, and we marched him into the building together.

  Bypassing the intake desk, Bates continued on to one of the interrogation rooms, thinking that he wasn’t ready to arrest Isaac without talking to him first. From the looks of him, Isaac was an addict with nothing to lose. Bates needed hard evidence that Isaac was the killer. Anything less, and he would have to set Isaac free.

  Inside the room, Bates pushed Isaac into a chair, then left to start the recording in the observation room for the interview. He quickly returned, unlocked Isaac’s handcuffs, and sat across from him. He indicated the chair beside him, and I sat there. He began the interview by reading Isaac his rights, then went on to his questions.

  “Isaac, Shelby told me you confessed to killing Ethan
Reynolds. What do have to say about that?”

  Until this moment, Isaac had hoped he could get out of this. He pursed his lips, deciding not to answer, so I pulled the picture of him and Ethan from my purse and slid it in front of him. Remorse flooded over him, along with a hefty dose of guilt. Ethan had been his best friend. What had he done?

  “It was an accident,” he exclaimed. His eyes held a wild gleam. “Strickland made me do it.”

  Bates jerked back in surprise. Strickland? What the hell?

  Since he was shocked speechless, I took up the slack. “What did Strickland tell you to do?”

  Anxious to put the blame on Strickland, Isaac spilled the story, beginning with Ethan’s bargain to help Strickland if he let Isaac off the hook.

  “Do you know what Strickland wanted Ethan to do?” I was pretty sure he didn’t know, but it would look bad if I didn’t ask.

  “No, but I think it had something to do with Ethan’s job. When Ethan refused, Strickland asked me to see if I could convince him to play his part. He told me to rough him up, and he said that, if Ethan didn’t cooperate, I’d end up in jail. See? This is all Strickland’s fault.”

  “So he wanted you to physically harm Ethan?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you do that?” Bates asked.

  Isaac shook his head, not wanting to think about the beating. “I just hit him.” Bates pushed harder, but Isaac dug in and refused to say anything. “I’m done talking. I want a lawyer.”

  “Fine,” Bates said. “Please stand.” As Isaac stood, Bates continued. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Ethan Reynolds.”

  “Wait! What about Strickland?” Isaac’s face contorted with desperation. “He’s the one who told me to do it. You should be arresting him.”

  Bates cuffed Isaac and led him from the room. In the hall, he called an officer over to process Isaac into custody. With that accomplished, he stopped the recording and returned to my side. “Too bad we don’t know where the murder weapon is.”