Backstreet Hero

His thoughts faded as the way she was looking at him slowly registered.

“Yes,” she said, that weariness he’d heard before echoing in her voice again.

“He’s…in prison?”

“Has been for nearly two years.”

He was beyond puzzled. The only thing he could think of was that the man had committed some white-collar crime.

“He’s on the Level I side? Minimum security?” he asked, although he didn’t understand why the man wasn’t in some country club kind of place instead of a hard-core lockup like Chino. Guys from his world went to Chino. Not hers.

“No. Medium security.”

Belatedly it hit him. If Josh suspected her ex might be behind what had been happening to her, then he must have a reason.

“What is he in for?”

She held his gaze with that nerve that had only wavered for a moment. “He tried to kill me.”

Chapter 5

She’d seen that look before. The shock, the incredulity. It was nothing new to her, that kind of skepticism.

So why did it hurt, when she’d thought herself inured to it long ago? Had she simply gotten unused to thinking about it? Or was it more complicated—was it that it was this man doubting her that made it sting?

She gave herself a mental shake. She’d left all the doubts behind, and she was not going back. She stood up abruptly. “If you don’t believe me, then you surely can’t believe there’s any need for this. Tell Josh so, and we’ll both get back to business.”

He was on his feet before she could take a step. “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

“You didn’t have to, Mr. Alvera.” She saw him wince slightly at the formal appellation, but didn’t stop. “I’ve seen that expression too many times to mistake it.”

“What you saw was…shock. Amazement. Astonishment. But not disbelief. You wouldn’t lie.”

That flat, bald assessment mollified her somewhat. But the way he was looking at her still made her uneasy. She studied him. Tried to separate the tough and efficient agent she knew he was from the darkly handsome, rakish appearance. Tried to think only of his dedication to Josh and to Redstone, and not how the dimple that carved his right cheek when he smiled took him from dangerous to charming in a split second.

“This isn’t just going to go away, is it?”

He shook his head. “Nor am I. So we might as well get started.”

She was, she thought tiredly, going to have to explain. She sank back into her desk chair, wishing herself anywhere else, confronting any other onerous task.

And when did wishing ever help you out of a bad situation? she asked herself.

“Never,” she muttered.

“What?”

She grimaced; she hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “Just reminding myself that wishing is for children.”

He sat back down himself, and was silent for a moment before he said softly, “Yes, it is. And the day you outgrow wishing is a sad one that comes too early for too many.”

Something about his tone enabled her to get it out, what she never talked about. “You want the condensed version?”

“For now,” he said, and the implication that there would be more later was nearly as unsettling as his presence.

She braced herself, then began. “Daniel Huntington. Pillar of the community. Wealthy family. Perfect manners. Charming. Polished. Urbane. Blue blood. Only one little glitch in his perfection.”

If the staccato presentation registered with him, he didn’t show it. His expression never changed when he said, “Which was?”

“He beat his wife.”

The emotionless mask vanished for only an instant, but Lilith didn’t miss the suddenly feral look that flashed in his eyes.

“The perfect cover,” he muttered.

Startled at his quick understanding, she nodded. “Exactly. His stature in the community, his background, his Ivy League upbringing, it all made it nearly impossible for anyone to believe.”

Something changed again in his expression. “If it was anyone but you telling me…”

She didn’t miss the implication of what he was saying, recognized a second assertion that he’d never not believed her, specifically.

After a moment, he went on. “I didn’t think things like that existed in…your world.”

A wry sort of amusement quirked one corner of her mouth upward. She perhaps could forgive him more than most; the world he’d grown up in was so radically different, hers must seem like some perfect dream. It spurred her to more explanation than she’d given to anyone in a very long time. “I was as…surprised as you. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t lived it. It took me a long time to realize that in Daniel’s case, he could only have become what he was in his world.”

“But it was your world, too.”

“Yes. But I had parents and grandparents who had worked incredibly hard to get where they were. Daniel’s family was a few generations down from the workers and felt it was now their place to lead their lessers.”

Tony snorted inelegantly, then muttered an apology. She merely smiled. “Exactly how I feel,” she said.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but all he said was “Go on.”

“He was the only son, and was catered to and fawned over from the day he was born. He was raised with a powerful sense of entitlement, that he was born to the elite and deserving of all their privileges. What started as a quick temper and a sense of superiority in the child became a brutal arrogance in the man.”

“But he took it out only on you.”

She nodded. “He limited it to inside his own home, yes.”

“Which makes it worse,” Tony said, his voice rough. “It means he had some control. He chose when and where. He chose…”

His voice trailed away, and she finished it for him. “Me. Yes, he did.”

“Bastard.” He didn’t apologize for that one.

“Yes,” she agreed calmly.

And she was calm, somewhat to her surprise. Tony Alvera was angry enough for both of them. And that not only surprised her, it warmed her in an odd sort of way. Enough that she was able to go on.

“I found out much later, thanks to Josh and John Draven, that he’d done the same thing to his first wife. But he’d managed to hush it up.”

“Did he kill her?” Tony asked, his voice harsh. The possibility obviously didn’t startle him.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Draven is. He found her, talked to her. In her case they paid her off. She took the money and ran. I can’t blame her. If I hadn’t had Josh standing behind me, I might well have done the same.”

He gave her a long, level look. “I don’t think so,” he said, and something in his gravelly voice touched her. “How did it start with you?”

“It seemed almost accidental. We’d been married six years. I forgave him that time. He’d had a horrible day, a big deal had fallen through, he’d meant to strike the wall, not me, it would never happen again, it was all a mistake…all the usual excuses men like that make.” She gave him a wry smile. “He even cried. It was a nice touch.”

“Croc tears.”

“Yes. But from Daniel Lee Huntington, quite effective. He is—was—perfection personified, the man who had it all, looks, money, position. And I’m the one who destroyed his perfect position in his perfect world.”

“He blames you.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t treat it as one. “It was really only thanks to the detective who worked my case,” she said. “She devoted herself to taking Daniel down. And she did it, despite pressure from a lot of quarters. The Huntingtons can wield a lot of influence.”

“And did?”

She nodded. “To this day, a lot of people in his world support him. Some because they honestly can’t believe he would do such a thing, others because they can’t afford to cross the Huntingtons.”

“What happened? That got him arrested?”

“He had another bad day, nearly a year after the first. He again chose to take it out on me. That was it, for me. I waited until he left, then began to pack. He must have sensed something, because he came back. This time he used a weapon. A fireplace poker.”

“Son of a bitch.” The curse was whispered, but no less furious. And again Lilith felt that warmth. Silly, she thought. It didn’t matter anymore to her who believed her and who didn’t. It was the past, long past, behind her and as close to forgotten as it could ever be.

At least, it had been.

“I managed to trip him, and it gave me enough time to get away. I didn’t get far before passing out from blood loss.” She heard him suck in a breath, but finished it. “Someone found me and called the police.”

She stopped there, as if that were the sum total of the story. And for these purposes, it was; the long, horrible nightmare of the trial was not something she wanted to relive in any form.

Tony sat there, looking at her steadily. He didn’t prod her for more, or even look as though he had more questions. He looked as if he was seeing what she wasn’t saying. And his next words proved her right.

“They put you through hell to put him away, didn’t they?”

She saw no point in denying it, especially since that would require exactly what she was trying to avoid, reliving the experience. “They tried. But by then I had help.”

“Josh.”

“Yes.” Then, knowing this was the part Josh would never tell him, she went on. “While I was in the hospital, I saw on the news that Josh was in town. I hadn’t seen him in years. I’d spoken to him now and then, but…in any case, I called him. I’m not sure why.”

She knew she didn’t have to say anything more; no one knew better what it meant to be in trouble and have Josh Redstone on your side.

“You said he’s been in for two years.”

“Nearly, yes.” Guessing what his next question would be, she answered before he had to ask. “His lawyers managed to keep him out for over three, but two years ago his appeals ran out and he was sent to prison. And he was just denied a parole hearing. He thought he should get one sooner than the sentence specified, because…he’s special.”

Tony smiled at that. It was a smile Lilith thought she wouldn’t like to see aimed at her; there was nothing of civil discourse in it, and a great deal of that feral wildness she’d seen flash in his eyes before.

“Good,” was all he said.

“So you see why he can’t be behind this. I appreciate Josh’s concern, but—”

“You can arrange for anything from behind bars. In fact, it’s probably easier. A constant flow of people with criminal mindsets, it doesn’t take much to find one who’s about to get out and willing to do you a favor for a price. Or one who knows somebody who will. And I’m guessing your ex still has the price.”

She wondered if he spoke from experience. She knew Josh hadn’t pressed charges for his attempted robbery all those years ago, but it didn’t seem likely that that had been the first foray into crime for the boy he’d been, the street gangster she’d heard about.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “He still has all the assets of the Huntington family. His father died four years ago, and controlling interest in all their varied enterprises passed to Daniel.”

“Somebody must be helping him run all that.”

“I’m sure the family attorney is dealing. He’s very efficient.” She grimaced. “As was his criminal attorney. Anyone less than Detective Drake, and the trial might have had a very different outcome.”

“Remind me to find her and thank her someday,” Tony said, almost under his breath.

Lilith found that curious; it had nothing to do with the current situation, and certainly nothing to do with Tony himself. “Really, I can’t believe—”

“If he was out, would you believe he could do this?”

Lilith didn’t have to think about that. “Yes.”

“And being denied even the possibility of early parole would really set somebody like him off.”

Wearily now, she conceded the fact. “Yes. He could never accept that he’d been convicted. Couldn’t believe a Huntington would actually be put in prison.”

“The pendulum has swung a bit,” Tony said.

Lilith’s brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

“The public perception of justice has shifted. Nowadays you’re more likely to get hit hard the more prominent you are. Decade or two ago, he’d probably have gotten away with it. Or at least gotten a lesser sentence.”

Lilith knew that was likely true. And wondered again just how he’d gained his knowledge of the legal system.

“I’ll need to know what his weaknesses are. What will set him off, or oil his jaws.”

She blinked. “What?”

“What will get him talking. Or make him mad, if I need to.” For the third time, that fierce, wild look flashed in his eyes. “I’d like that.”

“You…you’re going to see him?”

“Easiest way to find out if he’s behind this. He’ll deny it, sure, but if I rattle him enough, he might give himself away.”

“He’s a very practiced liar,” she said.

“So am I, when I need to be,” he said negligently.

I’ll bet you are, Lilith thought.

The idea didn’t please her much.

Chapter 6

Tony tapped a finger restlessly on the steering wheel of his car. As he had been since they’d left Redstone ten minutes ago. “This is a mistake.”

“Perhaps.”

“You don’t need to do this. If you’d just tell me—”

“You said you wanted to rattle him. Make him mad.” She gave him a wry grimace of a smile. “I can do that better than anyone.”

“How can you want to see him?” Tony asked, barely masking his incredulity.

“Believe me, I don’t. I have no desire to ever lay eyes on that man again. But I swore I would never cower from him again, either.”

He admired her fortitude, but said, “It’s not cowering.”

“It is if there’s anything to Josh’s suspicions, and he’s really behind this. If,” she added, “there really is a ‘this.’”

He didn’t tell her that, while he’d been doubtful at first, the moment he’d learned about her ex he’d become as convinced as Josh that there was more to this than just a couple of accidents.

Or perhaps he simply wasn’t willing to risk her life on the assumption they’d been mere coincidence.

“I’ll handle this,” he said firmly. “It’s my job, remember?”

“And it’s my problem.”

He tried another approach. “Would you let me interfere with your work?”

“If it was your area of expertise, yes.”

“Exactly.” He thought she had just proved his point, but she’d said it too quickly and easily; Lilith Mercer was no fool, and her steely determination was well-known around Redstone.

She proved his unease well-founded with her next words. “And Daniel Huntington is my area of expertise, not yours. If you want to push his buttons, I’m the one who knows what they are.”

And just that easily, she had him. And he was going to be stuck in a car with her on the drive that would likely take nearly an hour.

The Redstone name carried a lot of weight in most places, and between Josh himself, John Draven and Josh’s mysterious right-hand man, St. John, Tony guessed there weren’t many places where one of them didn’t know someone. In any case, one phone call had netted them permission to see the prisoner Daniel Huntington as long as they got there within the next two hours. Tony guessed whoever the contact was, he got off duty then.

“You’ll need to change,” he told her.

She drew back slightly. “What?”

“Your jeans. You can’t wear them to visit. Too close to prison blues.”

She stared at him, clearly wondering how he knew that, and for some reason he didn’t even try to understand he felt compelled to go on, as if in some perverse way he wanted her to be even more aware of the differences between them.

“You can’t wear some shades of green, either, because it’s too close to the guard uniforms.”

“I…see.”

“It’s my world, Lilith.” It hit him then, what he’d been trying to do, to make her keep the distance between them, because he wasn’t sure he could. He didn’t want to keep doing it, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “I know a lot of people in Chino. Gangsters I ran with. Gangsters I ran against. A couple of them are there because they killed my little sister in a drive-by.”

She looked at him just long enough to remove her next words from the category of automatic platitude. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, wishing he’d never started this. He hurried her along then, knowing it was going to eat up some of their two-hour window for her to stop and change clothes. But it would give him a chance to look at the scene of this morning’s incident, something he wanted to do as soon as possible anyway.

He was surprised when she directed him to a condominium building that looked as if it had once been apartments. It was well kept, and nicely landscaped, but definitely older than the high-rise style buildings that were popping up in the area.

“Twice the space for half the money,” she explained, as if she’d read his mind.

So despite her background, she had a practical streak, Tony thought as they started up the stairs to her front door.

“Who cut the wire?” he asked, gesturing to where the ends of the thin silver line were still wrapped around both newel posts of the stairway. He pushed out of his mind the thought of what a miracle it was that she hadn’t taken that full tumble, and focused on the evidence left behind.

“I did. My neighbor is seventy-five years old. A fall like that could seriously injure, even kill her.”

And a tumble down that flight of concrete stairs could have killed you, he thought.

He crouched to look more closely at the posts as she went inside to change. She was right. A fall like that would have been devastating for her older neighbor.

As if his thoughts had conjured her up, a woman who had to be Mrs. Tilly appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and he realized she must have gotten off the community Dial-A-Ride van that had just pulled out. She had a small bag of groceries and a handful of mail in addition to a capacious black leather purse slung over her right shoulder.

“Is this because of that wire?” the woman asked as she came up the stairs, very spryly for a woman her age, he noted. But she was having trouble with the groceries and the purse slipping off her shoulder, so he instinctively did what he would have done with his mother, who was about the same age; he took the bag. “Let me get that for you.”

She looked at him with a touch of wariness he appreciated. “It’s all right,” he said gently. “I’m not a threat.”

“I didn’t think you were, or Lilith wouldn’t allow you around.”

So she knew Lilith well enough to make that assumption. He barely managed to stop himself from probing that knowledge, knowing asking questions would probably have the woman running to Lilith to warn her off.

She let him carry the grocery bag across the landing to her door, where she dug out her keys, opened it, set her purse and the mail inside, then turned back to him and took the bag; she might not be afraid, but she was still cautious. “Are you a policeman or something? Are you here because of what happened?”

“Or something,” he said.

“I think it was that little scamp who lives downstairs.”

“Lilith told me.”

The woman looked thoughtful. “If it wasn’t him, who could it have been?”

“I was going to ask you. Did you see anyone around in the morning?”

“Just the gardener,” she said. “Although come to think of it, it was a new man, not Jose, who’s been here for years.”

“You talked to this man?”

“Yes. He said Jose was his cousin, or something like that. And he had all the equipment.” She wrinkled her nose. “And tattoos. I don’t care for those.”

If you only knew, he thought, but managed not to smile. “So he was Hispanic?”

She gave him a wary look, as if she thought he was setting her up to insult him. “Yes,” she finally said, and left him standing there on the landing as she went inside.

He was pondering the possible significance of an unknown Hispanic with tattoos when Lilith returned. She’d exchanged those jeans he’d admired for a pair of black twill pants that were almost as distracting, and a crisp, white blouse.

“Here,” she said, holding something out to him.

It was a plastic baggie holding a coiled length of silver wire that matched the remnants he’d been looking at.

“Not sure why I saved it. It looks like something you could buy at any hardware store, but there it is.”

“Good.” He took the bag. “Can’t hurt.”

He pulled the small, red-handled pocketknife he usually carried out of his left front pocket and made quick work of freeing the two tied ends of the wire. He noticed there were flattened spots on the one end, as if the person tying them had used a tool of some kind, likely pliers, to tighten the wire. He added the ends to the baggie and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. He could have Sam verify whether wire had been sold to any of Lilith’s neighbors, at least eliminate that possibility. Sam would love it, tied to a desk as she was…

They headed back down to where his car was parked at the base of the stairs. She didn’t go with any more noticeable care than anyone would, clearly not about to let the incident make her afraid of every step. And again he thought of determination.

By the time they were on the freeway headed north, he was realizing the drive wasn’t going to be quite the ordeal he’d thought. Whatever her reservations about him had been to begin with, she seemed to either be over them, or at least ignoring them for the moment. She seemed more than willing to just chat amiably.

Or maybe she’s just looking for a distraction from having to face her brutal ex, he told himself.

He was still having a bit of trouble absorbing what she’d told him. He realized now how stupid he’d been, thinking that things like that didn’t touch her world, but still, it was nearly impossible for him to think of this elegant, classy woman as a victim of such brutality.

And when he did, when he pictured her frightened and in that kind of danger, when he thought of her hurt and bleeding and alone, a rage he hadn’t felt since his days on the street welled up in him. The kind of rage that had gotten him into far too much trouble in his life.

Only this time he’d asked for it. Hell, he’d demanded it, demanded to be the one to help her, even knowing it would mean time like this, alone in her company, fighting his tangled feelings every step of the way.

Great.

Masochist didn’t even begin to describe it.

“I think,” Lilith said when the conversation turned, as it inevitably did between people who had their particular boss in common, “you have to have the most amazing ‘How I met Josh’ story in all of Redstone.”

“The most infamous, maybe,” he said as he signaled for a lane change to get out from behind a truck spitting rocks off its uncovered load. They were in the Redstone car he drove on assignment, but he took care of it as if it were his own, she noticed.

“That, too,” she agreed with a laugh, and was oddly gratified when that made him smile, perhaps because it looked as if it was in spite of himself.

“I owe Josh my life,” he said simply. “And not just for not having my…butt thrown in jail back then.”

She didn’t miss the change of words, and wondered if it was because she was female, or older than he, or simply that she was Redstone and therefore deserved the respect Josh demanded for all his people.

“I heard he sent you to school.”

Tony nodded, although he didn’t look at her. It wasn’t because there was a lot of traffic at this midday hour, but maybe he was just a careful driver, she thought.

“Yes.” She saw one corner of his mouth quirk. “It was his price for staying out of juvie. I’d been there twice, and I didn’t want to go back.”

This, she hadn’t known. Either part. “His price?”

“He told me I could go to this school he knew about, or I could go back in the system. My choice.”