* * *
Later, Violet and Timothy,
lay between crisp, white sheets on a queen-sized bed in their woodsy hideout. He
wasn’t her first choice but would do for now. With long, purple fingernails,
she traced the hard, defined muscles on his chest and smiled. Men who worked out brought something special
into the bedroom their weaker counterparts could not. Most appealing was his stamina.
Her true love, Seamus McGinn, was in prison. He’d
put her through misery but had attributes she admired. The brutal criminal had taught
her the tricks of the trade. What would Seamus think if he knew she was
sleeping with his younger assistant? Perhaps she’d chosen Timothy because he
was Seamus’s assistant.
“Baby,” she whispered. “I need to get going. The open-air market
will close soon.”
“Yep.” He rolled his eyes. “Perfect timing for paying nearly
nothing for the poorest quality fish.”
“We take the crap destined for the garbage dump.” She rolled over
and got out of bed. After gathering her
discarded clothing from the floor, she hurried to dress.
Not long after she and Timothy had met at Seamus McGinn’s island,
a slight attraction turned into a flirtation. Timothy was less bizarre and
frightening although, for her, frightening had a certain
appeal. Besides fulfilling her sexual appetite, Timothy put her in charge. With
Seamus, she didn’t know what the hell was going on. She combed her hair and
secured it with a purple clip.
When she returned to the bedroom, Timothy was still in bed, lying
on his back, staring at the ceiling and smoking a joint.
“Can I ask you a question?”
His gaze left the fan and landed on her. “Shoot.”
“Have you communicated with Seamus lately?” She retrieved her
handbag and keys from the dresser.
Timothy narrowed his eyes and chewed on his bottom lip. “Indirectly,
with bitcoin. I let him know when I deposit ten percent of our earnings into
his bank account.”
“Why bother? We could use the money!” she insisted through
clenched teeth.
“Don’t get pissed off. Sometimes I mail items I pinch. If I try to
sell a garment bag full of clothes here, someone will recognize the wearer. Our
Long Beach guys have access to pawn shops. You know what would happen if I
pawned them here.”
“So that’s the extent of your communication?”
“Yep, just business as usual. Why do you ask?”
“He runs the mob from Gladstone Prison.” She huffed. “Something’s
going on. I’ve got this weird feeling that when I find out, I won’t like it.
His distancing freaks me out.”
“McGinn reaches out when necessary.”
“Kiss my ass.” Not that he hadn’t, but the context was different. She
needed to confide in someone attached to the Irish gang in Long Beach. Might as
well be Timothy. To slow her racing heartbeat, she took a few deep breaths.
“You wouldn’t believe all the crap he kept at the island. Power saws, shovels,
even a wheelbarrow. One of these days, his boys will make their way through. He’ll
bust out. I wish I knew what he was up to.”
Timothy propped himself up on one elbow. “Any ideas?” Here he was,
a man in his fifties. Rugged, well-built, salt-and-pepper cropped hair and
trimmed beard.
Violet snorted. “Once he said, ‘Wait for a surprise.’” She made
air quotes.
Shrugging, Timothy drew his brows together. “Call the bartender at
his strip joint. He visits the prison regularly.” He sat up, fluffed both
pillows, positioned them in front of the headboard, exhaled foul smoke, and
leaned back.
“I don’t want to appear curious.
You call.” She chuckled. “I’m beginning to think he’s got a mistress
stashed in his cell.”
“Good guess.” He held out his hand. “Come here.”
After stalling a second, she set her bag on the dresser and sat
next to him on the side of the bed. Requiring his comfort, she rested her head
on his shoulder.
He wrapped his arm around her. “You got away from him, babe. He
was harsh with you, remember? I helped you leave. You were being replaced.”
“Yeah, by a topless barmaid. You did help me.” Her throat
tightened. Seamus nearly killed her with his rough sex. He’d grown moody and
sullen.
“Maybe I helped, or
maybe I didn’t,” he snarled. “Are you still trying to get his attention? Your
rampage against rich Hawaiians has him at the center. Your underlying motive is
for him to notice you, right?” He sat up, leaned closer. “You think he’d
approve?”
Her teeth were still clenched. She was never good at judging his
approval rating.
“The surprise you mentioned,” Timothy said, derision dripping from
every word, “McGinn just might come after you.”
Violet recoiled. “Me? I didn’t do anything. Why would he come for
me?”
“You’re a loose cannon. He’s a ruthless killer but has a practical
side.” His voice went warm and gentle. “I’m making lasagna for dinner,” he
whispered and then kissed her. “When will you be back?”
“Two hours,” she said. “After buying raw fish—”
“—about that,” he interrupted. Touching her under the chin, he
lifted her face. “If you want them to die, why don’t you just shoot them?”
“Yeah, I’d get a real bang out of it. Your suggestion is under consideration.”
“I noticed your gun is loaded and ready to fire. Heading out with
it?”
She closed her fingers around her gun and placed it in her bag. “Might
as well bring it. Victim four lives at Bali Kai Condos, but I have prep work.”
She held up her hand. “No protesting, no finger-wagging.”
He grunted. “Hold on. What about the Aheahe girl? I’d like to grab
some Titanium
Rings.”
“Patience. We’ll grab Miss Ringy-ding in a couple of days. For the
moment I want to put this other Hawaiian woman down. She’s not wealthy enough
to warrant a robbery.”
“Just too big for her bikini top? What’s your plan?”
“She drives a Subaru Outback. When I see her getting out of her
car, I’ve got her pinpointed for a hit.”
“Wear your black wig in case of surveillance.” He didn’t grill her
for more information but held his hands together, twisting and turning them.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be subtle. I plan to push a luggage trolley
around the parking area. It’s located under buildings close to the elevator.”
“Parking under buildings means no sun-damage to paint.” He
scratched his head, turned to plump up pillows, and drew the covers high. The
man had a thing for the obvious, had a way of saying what everyone already knew.
“Also, when it rains, everyone stays dry.”
“Uh huh, including the Hawaiian bitch who comes and goes to her
car.” At the door, she snapped off the light. Life with Timothy, even under
boring circumstances, was tolerable. Things were livelier now that she’d put
her detest of snooty Hawaiians into action. Timothy didn’t deny her this
obsession, and for that, she kept him around.
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