Draw Blood Page 4

  Unlike the Italian mafia, the Lone Star boys had a more fluid organizational structure. The members weren’t all connected by blood, though some people like Beauregard and his father were. Potential Lone Star Mafia members offered themselves up as soldiers and worked their way up the ranks.

  Back in the day, Ten had started out as a grunt and then eventually ran his own crew. Although, he still performed some hitman duties, since he had a gift for getting retribution.

  “Good mornin’.” Byron Beauregard sat at the head of the table with a sheaf of papers in his hand.

  “Mornin’.” They’d never liked one another, but they had a cordial rapport.

  Most of the people in the outfit thought he was likely to snap any second, and they were right.

  Byron wore a dark blue suit with a gray paisley tie. He stood around six-feet tall with blond hair and blue eyes. Like the rest of them, Byron was a mobster, but there was something downright angelic about him, even if a pair of horns held up his halo.

  Until recently, he’d been the Underboss. A few weeks back, Tucker Cobb had met an untimely end, and then Byron had become their new leader. The man had been all sweetness and light ever since, as though a heavy burden had been lifted.

  Ten had no doubt Byron had taken out Tucker, which didn’t bother him at all. Tucker was rumored to have murdered his own son and daughter-in-law.

  And, he was kind of a dick.

  Good riddance, I say. Don’t let the door hit ya where the Lord split ya.

  “Have a seat.” He indicated a chair to the left of the table and Ten took it.

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “How’s Jane?” Ten asked, making an effort to appear interested.

  Byron had settled down with Jane Hunter, the outfit’s former lawyer. They’d recently gotten hitched, and the two of them had an adopted daughter, Brady. Brady’s mother had been taken out by a serial killer, but the little girl had been adjusting to her new circumstances remarkably well.

  A smile curled his lips. “Happy as a clam at high tide.”

  “And she still likes the job?”

  Jane had taken a position with the Innocence Project, working to free people who’d been wrongly convicted.

  “No, she loves it.”

  He got this soft look in his eyes whenever he spoke about Jane. Ten wondered what it must be like to have someone in your corner. As a child, he’d learned to depend on only one person, himself. It was lonely at times, even though it was much safer that way.

  “And how are you?” Byron asked.

  “Fair to middlin’.” Although Ten would’ve said he was fine, even if things had gone sideways. He liked it best when no one knew his business.

  Just then, Jasper arrived, and he sat beside Ten. Jasper Tan was tall and broad-shouldered with pale skin, dark eyes, and black hair. Due to his heritage, Jasper called himself “whasian,” a mixture of white and Asian.

  Jasper glanced at Byron. “Have you heard anythin’ about Mary?”

  “She’s in the wind, and I think she’ll stay scarce.” His features hardened. “You’d best get used it.”

  “You’d think she could drop a fella a line now and then.” Jasper folded his arms over his chest. “Just so I know she’s okay.”

  Recently, Mary Cobb had been kidnapped by the Sin City Mafia. Rumor had it, she’d run off with Chase, a former member of that outfit, and they’d settled someplace else. Jasper had taken it hard because they’d been best friends for years. He’d been guarding her for a long time, and they’d formed a strong bond.

  Ten was happy for her. Mary had been studying medicine, and she didn’t fit in with the rest of them. Ten hoped she found some peace because she wouldn’t have liked living the mobster life, anyhow.

  Next in the door was Victoria Hale, a young woman in her twenties. She had baby-fine black hair pulled up into a bun, pale skin, and blue eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses. Vick had an hourglass figure with large breasts and curvy thighs and wore a red skirt with a white silk shirt. She sat beside Jasper and gave him a quick kiss. They held hands underneath the table.

  Jasper and Vick were an item. They’d moved in together and seemed to be in love. Ten bet they’d be getting engaged soon.

  And then Dixon Wolfe walked in.

  Dix served as Negotiator for the Lone Star Mafia, which meant he mitigated conflicts between members and reported directly to Byron. Before Cobb’s untimely death, he’d been equals with Byron and they’d both worked for Tucker.

  Although, the new structure didn’t seem to bother Dix. Ten got the sense he hadn’t been looking to move up in the outfit. Besides, he and his former mistress, Belle Nunn, were getting hitched, so work was less of a priority these days.

  Ten preferred to stay on the sidelines, an observer in the group.

  Dix sat across from him. He was a tall man with thick, dark brown hair bracketed by streaks of silver. A dense layer of stubble coated his cheeks and chin, but it wasn’t quite a beard.

  “So while we’re waitin’ for everybody to arrive, I’ve got some news.” Dix pulled out a blurry black and white ultrasound image. “I finally got permission to tell everyone Belle’s pregnant.”

  Ten understood the secrecy. Some couples chose to keep it to themselves for the first few weeks, in case something went wrong.

  “Congratulations.” Byron slapped him on the back. “Fatherhood is a wonderful thing.”

  Dix gave Byron a great big bear hug. They’d been friends as well as colleagues for a long time.

  “I’m a might long in the tooth for a brand new baby, but I can’t wait.” His eyes were suspiciously watery, and he blinked the moisture away.

  Dix had lost his first wife, along with their child. Ten didn’t know all the particulars of how it had gone down exactly. Dix kept his private life under wraps, and Ten wasn’t one to ask questions either.

  “Congrats, Dad.” Jasper shook Dix’s hand.

  “I’m so happy for you!” Vick raced around the table and hugged him. “I’m gonna buy you so many baby clothes—you have no idea!”

  He smooched her cheek. “Don’t go overboard.”

  “Whatever.” She waved away his concern. “And I’m throwin’ the shower, too.”

  Ten offered a tepid nod of acknowledgment. He didn’t know what to say.

  The congratulations went on for quite a while and Ten tuned the discussion out. He’d never get married or have a child of his own. Hearing others chat about their families bothered him.

  Eventually, Mossy and his son, Salty, filed in the room, along with Rebel Jackson, Braxton Beauregard, Colt Dawson, Hayden Swift, Will Butler, and Raleigh McCoy. They all took a seat, and Byron stood to address the group.

  “I call this meetin’ to order.” And then he began yammering on and on, strutting across the room like a proud peacock.

  Sweet Jesus, he’s a chin musician, waggin’ that tongue of his.

  After walking them through old and new business, he asked for updates, and there weren’t any. Things were slow in the Creek at the moment.

  “I have a piece of new business before I forget,” Byron said. “I’m releasin’ the Four Horsemen from their agreement to work with us.”

  There was a loud gasp from the group.

  Byron used the term “agreement” as if the bikers had been given much of a choice. He’d blackmailed them into working with the outfit. From what he’d heard, Byron had shot an FBI agent and framed Axel’s momma for the crime. He’d used her weapon to do the deed, and her fingerprints had been all over it. Axel was the Four Horsemen’s club president, so they’d had the entire group in their pocket.

  “I don’t get it.” Jasper’s brows had backed up into his hairline. “What happened to you? Was it a Grinch thing? Did your heart get bigger all of a sudden?”

  “Watch yourself.” Byron scowled.

  “Sorry.” Jasper shook his head. “But it’s weird.”

  “Their reluctance is provin’ too much of a hassle and I tho
ught we should find more willin’ partners.”

  Privately, Ten wondered if it was Jane’s influence. She’d once been an officer of the court and still had a conscience, even if Byron didn’t. Or maybe the outfit was headed into a new era. Sure, they’d still break the law and make bank, but maybe they’d do it in a kinder, gentler way. It suited him fine, as long as he got to kill someone now and then.

  “Any objections?” Byron raised his eyebrows as he surveyed the room.

  Dix spoke up. “No, we never liked ‘em much anyway, so cut those boys loose. We’ll find somebody else to do our dirty work.”

  “Very well.” Byron grinned. “I have another, even better, announcement. Remember Agent Hawthorne?”

  They nodded.

  FBI Agent Jim Hawthorne, or Thorne as he preferred to be called, was the head of an organized crime unit. He’d set up shop in their proverbial backyard. The agent had a real hard on for the outfit, trying to catch them in one illegal activity or the other. They’d been tiptoeing around for months, but the heat had never died down.

  “Accordin’ to my sources at the bureau, he’s headed back to Washington D.C. to take a teachin’ position at Quantico and the task force will be disbanded any day now.”

  They all hooted and hollered.

  It almost made Ten smile.

  Finally, things were gonna go back to normal around here.

  Chapter Four

  Tennessee Ross was a ghost.

  The next afternoon, Aggie sat at her desk with a cup of coffee indulging in a non-work related Google search. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. There’s nothing she loved more than a mystery and Ten was a puzzle. Aggie hadn’t found a single entry on him, which was nuts.

  Nobody can escape Google’s notice.

  She’d hit up all of her contacts earlier, searching for Diego’s whereabouts, but she’d come up empty. Any minute, she’d call Sofia and tell her she’d failed, but Aggie was hoping for a miracle.

  And she might’ve found one.

  From what she could tell, Ten had to be using an alias, or he would’ve shown up somewhere. Plus, she’d heard persistent rumors about Crimson Creek. Namely, that it was home to a branch of the Lone Star Mafia. Aggie thought Ten was probably a mobster and it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should.

  And a friendly criminal might be able to point her in the right direction.

  “You’re lookin’ him up, aren’t you?” Polly marched in the door and slung her coat on the rack in the corner. It wobbled, threatening to topple over, but righted itself at the last second.

  Earlier, Aggie had gone all school girl on Polly, babbling about Ten. Polly had grown more and more concerned, worried Aggie had some kind of freak on her hands, so she’d shut up and changed the subject.

  Aggie ignored the question. “Did you find out anythin’ useful from your old cop buddies?”

  “The cops heard of him, and said Diego was well connected, but they couldn’t tell me where to find him.”

  Another dead end. Crap.

  “What did you discover about your new beau?” Polly waltzed around the desk and leaned over her shoulder.

  She hit the x in the corner of the window, and it vanished from the screen.

  “He ain’t my boyfriend.”

  “Sugar, don’t even lie to me. You went on and on about the man standin’ outside your window, actin’ like Romeo himself called on you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m over it.”

  “Nah, you’re definitely under it, although, there’s been a lot of that goin’ around.” She arched a brow.

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “You heard me.” Polly placed a hand on her ample hip. “No judgment, sugar, but you get around.”

  “Hey!”

  “Just being truthful. It ain’t my fault if you can’t handle it.”

  “Maybe you could be a little less free and easy with the truth.”

  “And maybe you could be a little less free and easy period.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I can’t believe you.”

  “I can’t help it, sugar, I’m old school, and I think you should settle down with somebody, not screw around with random men who don’t deserve you. When I met Coop thirty years ago, I was a done deal and I ain’t looked at another man since. You could use the same sort of stability.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “We both know there’s no point in me gettin’ attached to anybody.”

  “Don’t say such things.” Polly was a touch superstitious. In her view, if a person said something out loud, it might just come to pass.

  “Why not? I thought you were all about the truth.”

  “My point is, you could do better. He’s dangerous.”

  She grinned. “I know.”

  “Could you sound a bit less excited about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Aren’t you a little old to be going through a bad boy phase?”

  “Can we talk about the case again?”

  Polly glowered.

  “Since we’ve hit a wall with the usual suspects, what do you suggest we try next?” Aggie relied on Polly’s instincts when it came to tricky situations. She’d learned a lot from her experience as a cop.

  “We’ll get to the case in a moment. For now, I’m worried about you. This Seven guy sounds like a rapist to me, or maybe a murderer. He could be a rapist/murderer.”

  “His name is Ten, not Seven, and he’s neither of those things.” At least I don’t think so.

  While Aggie got the sense Ten was lethal, she’d never felt threatened by him. If anything, she got a protective vibe from the man.

  “Not to be all girly, but it’s kinda nice to have a man look after me.” Ten had been right, after all.

  Polly snorted.

  “Shut it.”

  “What kind of name is that anyway? Ten? It’s a number, just stop it.”

  “I like it.” She shrugged.

  “I’m still tryin’ to wrap my brain around this.” Polly held out her hands. “So let me get this straight, you invited this strange man into your house after you found him skulkin’ in your bushes like a peepin’ tom.”

  “He likes watchin’ me sleep.” Didn’t that come out wrong? She nearly slapped her own forehead.

  “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “And what were you doin’ on the computer? Checkin’ up on him? Daydreamin’?”

  “No.”

  Polly tapped a foot.

  “Okay, yes.”

  “Find anything interestin’? Like an arrest warrant?”

  “No, I haven’t found a thing.”

  “So he gave you an alias.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Fine, you’re an adult, and you can make your own choices, even if they’re the wrong ones.”

  Aggie rolled her eyes. “Back to the case?”

  “Sure, why not? I’m stumped and I think we should call the authorities.”

  “I’ve still got a few more hours. I’ve been thinkin’, if I’m goin’ up against this Diego guy, I might need a real pipe hitter.” If nothing else, it would help to have some big scary back up behind her.

  Polly had taught her the term. It meant someone willing to go to extremes in order to complete a task, which suited Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly to a “T.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “For the record, I think we’re both in over our heads.”

  “Duly noted.” Since her name was on the door, Aggie was in charge, and this wasn’t a democracy, even if she valued Polly’s opinion.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m gonna pay Ten a visit tonight, and see if he’ll provide some information. In the meantime, I’ll try to scare up another lead on Diego’s whereabouts.”

  “From who?”

  “Maybe the farm workers will tell me?” One of them might have Diego’s location
and be brave enough to share it.

  “It’s a longshot.”

  “I know.” She headed for the door.

  Polly raised her brows. “Do you think the stalker will help you out?”

  Aggie grinned. “Yeah, I got a feelin’ he will.

  ***

  Aggie went to Ten’s winery just before closing.

  Poison Fruit was on the end of town, on five acres, which hugged the creek. As she pulled into the drive, she passed hundreds of fruit trees—apples, peaches, and pears—as well as strawberry and blackberry patches.

  A red barn had been converted into the bistro portion of Poison Fruit. It still had the high rafters and wood, but it’d been remodeled inside. In the center of the dining room, a brick well-like structure surrounded a large apple tree. The branches stretched up to the stained glass windows above, which depicted Eve and the apple, along with a slithering serpent. Twinkling Christmas lights lined the walls, and tea lights on the tables gave the room a warm glow.

  When she walked in the door, Aggie grabbed a menu and perused the selections. All the vineyard fruits were utilized in the wine, not just grapes—blueberries, strawberries, peaches, and apples too. The wines had lethal names—Toxin, Venom, and Nightshade, among others.

  It gave the name Poison Fruit a whole new sinister meaning.

  Yeah, I definitely came to the right place for help.

  Ten sat at the piano playing a mournful tune, oblivious to everyone around him. She recognized the music, Debussy’s Clair de Lune.

  His eyes were closed, feeling the music.

  Aggie knew what it was like. She got lost when she was dancing, oblivious to the world around her. She liked the sensation, as though she transcended her body, moved beyond this life and joined the universe.

  It was a fanciful thought.

  The music was poignant and a bit sad. The way he played was compelling, as though he felt all of the sorrow, the bleakness in the world, and he soaked it in.

  Her throat ached, tears welling in her eyes.

  Aggie felt the same way. She’d had a dark cloud circling above her head for a while now, and there was nothing to do but accept it.