Against the Night. Kat Martin

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       Making his way over to the counter in the police station, he recognized Officer Gwen Michaels working behind the front desk.

       “Hey, Gwen.”

       She looked up at him and a smile broke over her face. “Johnnie! You devil, where you been? And don’t tell me you’ve been staying out of trouble, ’cause that just ain’t happenin’, honey.”

       Johnnie grinned. “Trouble’s my middle name, Gwen. You know that.”

       “Sure do. So what can I do for you, J-man?” Officer Michaels was in her twenties, black and gorgeous. And a damn fine officer on top of it.

       “Is Detective Vega around? I need to pick his brain a little.”

       “I think he left a while ago, but let me check for you.” She rotated her stool toward the computer on the desk in front of her, checked the monitor. “He’s out on a call, not due back until the end of the day.”

       “Leave him a message, will you? Ask him to give me a call when he gets in?”

       “No problem.”

       “Thanks, Gwen.”

       “Take care, J-man.”

       He chuckled. She always called him that. He wondered why he’d never asked her out. Probably because she was a cop. When he got off work, police business was the last thing he wanted to think about.

       He headed for the door, wishing Vega had been in but figuring he could count on the detective’s help. He didn’t get much resistance from the LAPD. In fact, he could usually depend on their cooperation with just about anything. His younger sister, Kate, had been an LAPD patrolman. Four years ago, Katie had died in the line of duty during a bank robbery. At the time, Johnnie had been in Mexico on some shit boat-recovery job for J. D. Wendel, one of the dot-com billionaires. The eighty-foot, million-plus Lazzara was chump change for Wendel, but the man wasn’t about to let one of his employees get away with stealing it from him.

       As Johnnie walked back to his car, he remembered returning to the States to find out he’d lost the sister he adored and his chest tightened. Katie was the only real family he’d had. He sure didn’t count the deadbeat dad who’d raised them in a crappy apartment off Los Feliz Boulevard.

       Max Riggs only worked hard enough to keep the power turned on and put a little food on the table. The rest of the time he was hustling some sucker out of his paycheck, or drinking and gambling with his buddies down at Pete’s bar. With their mother long gone and never to be heard from again, Johnnie and Katie were left to fend for themselves.

       He’d finally gotten over his mother’s abandonment, though as a kid, he’d often wondered what he and Katie had done to drive her away.

       As he grew older, he liked to think he’d had some part in how well his kid sister had turned out. He had worked two jobs to buy her the clothes she needed for school. After he joined the army, he’d sent money for city college, where she took classes in police science and finally landed the spot she so badly wanted on the force. Katie had been well respected in the department, intelligent and competent, a young woman dedicated to her job.

       Officer Kate Riggs had been part of the police family, and with her death in the line of duty, forever would be.

       Which made him family, too.

       Sort of.

       His Mustang sat at the curb. Johnnie slid behind the wheel and fired up the engine. Sooner or later, he’d talk to Vega, who wasn’t just a good cop but also a friend. In the meantime, he’d see what information he could pry out of Rachael’s sister and her friend.

       Amy’s pretty face popped into his head, only she wasn’t Amy, she was Angel, flaunting her beautiful, mostly naked body up onstage. He could remember every delicious curve, every swing of her perfect little ass.

       Johnnie closed his eyes, forcing the image away. It wasn’t Angel he was helping. It was Amy, a freakin’ kindergarten teacher.

       Johnnie cursed.

      Six

      Amy’s cell phone rang. She ran over to the kitchen table, dug it out of her purse and pressed it against her ear. “Hello?”

       “I’m on my way to the Sunset Deli. You know where it is?” Johnnie’s husky voice made her stomach flutter.

       “I know it. We eat there sometimes.” It was on the opposite side of the street just half a block from the club.

       “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Bring your roommate along and bring me a picture of your sister.”

       “Okay, we’ll see you there.” Amy ended the call and turned to Babs, who was finishing the last of her coffee.

       “I take it that was Mr. Hot,” Babs said.

       Amy nodded. “He wants us to meet him at the Sunset Deli.” Amy picked up her sister’s acting portfolio, a book of photos Rachael used to take to auditions. “Let’s go.”

       Babs took a last swallow of coffee, set her empty mug down on the kitchen counter and grabbed her purse. Amy slung the strap of her white leather bag over her shoulder and they headed for the door. She still had on the white jeans she’d worn that morning, but had changed out of her sneakers into strappy high-heeled sandals, and a pink silk blouse that tied up in front, showing her midriff. Kyle would be expecting an exotic dancer. She had to look at least a little like one.

       It didn’t take long to reach the deli, a place they occasionally went for lunch. As they made their way between the tables, Johnnie stood waiting at the back of the room. She could feel his eyes on her, dark and intense, taking in every curve, and her stomach did that same nervous flutter. He pulled out a couple of chairs around the wooden table and she sat down, setting the portfolio in front of her.

       Amy tried for a smile, thought about what had happened between them last night, and her face heated up. She fixed her attention on Babs. “This is my friend Barbara McClure. As I said, Babs was Rachael’s friend and roommate.”

       “Hello, Johnnie.” Babs flashed him a bright white smile.

       Johnnie just nodded. “Babs.” Pulling out another chair, he sat down himself. “If we’re going to do this, I’m going to need as much information as I can get. You ready for that?”

       Both of them nodded.

       “Good, then we might as well get started.”

       Like a lot of places on Sunset, the deli had been there for years. The wooden floors were old and warped, the tables battered and scarred. Cured salami and loaves of crusty bread hung on the walls, and the smell of roasting meat and baking bread filled the air.

       As Johnnie reached over and pulled the photo album toward him, a waitress in a dark green apron with Sunset Deli stamped on the front appeared to take their orders: a bagel and cream cheese for Babs, pastrami and rye for Johnnie. Amy ordered coffee with cream. No way could she possibly eat with John Riggs sitting across from her with his biceps bulging, a tight black T-shirt stretched over his massive chest, reminding her what she had missed СКАЧАТЬ