Page 25 of Deadly Threat
Blowing out a slow, controlled breath, he texted Caleb.Tell me something good.
His brother didn’t text back, but called. “Bro,” Caleb’s voice was slow like he’d been asleep. He probably had been. “Status?”
Malachi filled him in. “We’re at her place, everything seems normal. Got anything as far as leads on your end?”
“Working on King and Lopez—trying to get locations. The Bureau claims King is staying with his girlfriend on the east side and never left tonight, but he’s too smart to go after Amber himself. No one has a trace on Lopez. If those two are tied up in this, I bet he was part of the squad. Bobby is expanding his search to look for vehicles they may have traded off for, knowing those black SUVs used in the attack would be hot.”
“I was thinking about something Thomas said regarding King wanting to step into Marcher’s shoes. Can you get a list of those who visited King or Damon in prison?”
“According to Joe, Sam’s already got one. It’s pretty sad, really. Their only visitors were their lawyers and Newt saw his dad once. Nobody cared about either of them, I guess.”
Malachi thought there was probably a different reason, but he couldn’t grasp exactly what it was at the moment. His brain was too tired. “King’s girlfriend never went to see him?”
“Nope. Bet she got a shock when he showed up on her doorstep yesterday.”
The water came on in the other room. Malachi thumbed through channels. The early morning shows were starting to kick into gear. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “I bet she did, unless she knew something was up, or King told her to stay away because the Bureau was watching.”
“What are you thinking?”
Mostly that he needed sleep. “What if King ordered the hit on Marcher?”
Caleb was quiet while he considered it. “Sticking with the theory he wanted to pave the way to take over? Tough to do when you’re behind bars.”
Malachi’s brain was circling closer to the idea he was trying to grasp. “But not impossible.”
A few seconds of quiet went by. He tried to keep his eyes open and focused on the news as his brother digested it. “I can see it working. Especially if he had the right connections and support inside.”
Malachi and Caleb could usually read each other’s minds pretty easily. “You mean, like another gang?” Malachi questioned.
“Good way to get your feet in the door if you’re small or new to this area. You leech onto a bigger gang, as they often do in prison, prove yourself to the leader—in this case, the lieutenant who wants his boss taken out—then the next thing you know, you have street cred and power that could have taken years to accomplish on your own.”
Exactly.
“Isn’t that what Lopez did?” Caleb continued. “He ran with the Diamond Dogs before he changed allegiances and killed their leader for Marcher.”
“Yep, and King could have been passing messages through his attorney to Lopez to the stragglers left from the Quattro Gang. They needed fresh blood, after Marcher’s bust, so Lopez recruited a young, hungry group to join them with the promise of instant status if they took out Marcher.”
“King couldn’t have known the Feds would offer the deal, though.”
Malachi gave up the fight, closing his eyes and leaned back, sagging in the chair. “I haven’t worked through all of that, yet, but I’d like to know the timeline and who suggested the deal. Was it the Bureau or King’s lawyer? I also want a list of new and upcoming gangs in the area, both those in prison and on the street. Remember the skip we had that ran a pet shop? He was tied up with the Komosu, wasn’t he?”
“The Koreans. Yeah, at night he worked the gambling dens for them. They moved fake antiquities and guns, laundering the money through the store.”
It didn’t seem to jive with the guy he’d confronted, or Lopez, but the others had been Korean, he was sure of it. He had that niggling buzz under his chest bone that suggested the two were related. “Granted, it’s a long shot, but they were greedy and ruthless, two attributes King and Lopez admire.”
The clicking of keys came through the connection, as Caleb must have sat down at his computer. “Hmm. The guy who took out Marcher is named Han Beak. Doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ll do more digging, see what he’s in for, and if he has connections to any gangs. Who doesn’t these days? Could be our missing link.”
It didn’t help them find Amber, but they were holding jack squat in that area. There had to be a thread in this ball of twine that could be pulled to unwind it. “Sounds good. Keep me posted.”
“Get some sleep.”
“Roger that.” He disconnected, tossed the phone on the coffee table, and side-eyed the cat who had jumped onto the rear of the couch. She proceeded to lick a paw and clean her face, keeping a golden gaze locked on him.
The shower made a soft drone in the background. No matter how hard he tried to keep his lids open to concentrate on the news and kidnapping, his mind continually wandered to Mia. His imagination refused to be tamed, and he let the movie reel play.
He was a cad, but he couldn’t help it. He saw her skin pebble under the water, saw her dark lashes damp with drops, those intense green eyes beckoning him. They were real, those eyes, and damn if they didn’t turn him on.
He wanted to hold her, cradle her, reassure her. Under it all, he wanted to remove the fear and disillusionment from them and help her forget, even if only for a few minutes, that anything was wrong. If only he could worship her body and bring her some relief.
