Page 10 of Tango
“Question. What do ducks yell when someone throws something at them?”
Jemma’s expression momentarily shifts from fear to confusion, and the bruiser holding her narrows his gaze at me.
“Duck!” I fire. Jemma lunges forward as the bullet hits the shoulder of the man, opposite to where she’d been sitting. His furious yell is only momentary before I’m rushing forward and slamming him onto the ground, then withdrawing another zip tie and securing both arms behind his back.
As soon as he’s no longer an issue and the Sterlings are embracing each other, I move back into the hallway where Tango is being the good boy he is and keeping his hold on the first attacker.
“Aus,” I order. Let go. Tango releases him, so I flip him over onto his back and yank both arms—including his injured one—behind his back so I can secure them as well. He mutters under his breath, but I pay it no mind.
They always mutter. As soon as he’s secure, I grip his shoulder and drag him into the living room, flipping him over so he’s lying next to the other one.
Behind me, Alice joins her parents, all of them shaken and bruised.
I kneel. “Who are you?” They don’t answer. “Got it. No worries.” I withdraw my cell phone and snap two pictures before sending them off to a friend I trust out in Maine. He’s on call tonight, so an ID shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. “Now, who sent you here?”
“Do you really think we answer to you?”
“I think you’ll answer to the LAPD when they get here.”
“You called the cops?”
I glance over at Alice. “Home invasion typically calls for the police.” She pales, so I get up and cross the living room. “Who did this to you?” I ask, tone low as I take a closer look at her injuries. With the current risk subdued, I look her over, noting the cuts and scrapes on her face, the bruises around her throat, and her bandaged arm. “Was it them?” I gesture toward the two unwanted guests.
“No. It wasn’t them.”
“Then who?” When she doesn’t answer, I turn back toward the two men. “Who sent you?”
“Someone who will own you before this is all over,” one of the men sneers.
My phone dings, so I withdraw it and check the message. Thank you, Elijah. “Nice. So, we have a Harry Olean and a Kris Marsh.” Both men glare back at me. “I told you I was going to find out. Wow, nice records. Lot of time between both of you. Armed robbery. Assault. I don’t see any murder charges here though. Given how many times you’ve been caught, I’d say you’re nothing but the muscle they send in when they want someone to be scared. Muscle they’d likely be all too happy about throwing under the bus, given the circumstances.” I look from one man to the other, taking special notice of the way they side-eye each other. “Tell me, does it feel good to pick on people half your size? Make you feel like big men?” Neither of them answers. “Now, the question is, who’s going to crack first?”
“Listen, if you called the cops, I have to go.” Once again, Alice distracts me.
One of the men grins. “She’s the real killer.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“Then what happened to our boy Josh?” he asks. “Because I’m fairly certain you left him with an extra hole than he had when you found him.”
Alice pales and takes a step back.
It infuriates me that they’re intimidating her even now that they’re zip-tied on the ground. “Tell me what’s going on, Miss Sterling. I can’t help you unless you do.”
“He would have killed me. It was self-defense.”
“Sure it was,” one of the men says. “Just like that Ramiro kid was self-defense.”
Ramiro. “Ramiro Caine is dead?” I ask.
Alice’s face turns beet red, and she clenches her hands into fists. “I didn’t kill him!” She sprints toward them, and I have to wrap both arms around her waist to keep her from leaping onto the men.
Outside, sirens sound. It looks like Simmons got the call.
Alice pales further.
“You need to tell me what’s going on,” I demand as I release her.
She’s quiet as she looks out the window. Slowly, she turns back to me and closes her eyes. After a beat, she opens them again, and even with everything going on around me, I’m captivated by their crystal depths. “Fine. But you have to promise to keep my parents safe.”
