Girls With Guns
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Acknowledgments
Bow and Arrow Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Hammersmith Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Hell Fire Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Authors
Synopsis
Three stories by three talented crime writers—Carsen Taite, Ali Vali, and Michelle Grubb—each packing her own special brand of heat.
In Hammersmith by Michelle Grubb: Officer Belinda Riley knew the signs of a suicide bomber, but this time she was blind to the obvious. This time she didn’t want to believe what was right in front of her eyes.
In Bow and Arrow by Carsen Taite: Bounty hunter Luca Bennett has always lived on the edge of the law, but now she’s living with a cop and doing her darnedest to stay out of trouble. When an old enemy resurfaces, will the shady ways of Luca’s past come back to haunt her?
In Hell Fire by Ali Vali: Dr. Abigail Eaton stumbles into a massacre, but once someone tries to kill her it seems like no accident. While hunting for the perpetrators of a sex trafficking empire, Agent Riley Abbott saves Abigail from a professional hit and discovers the young mother might be the key to more than just her case. Riley takes Abigail and her family to what she thinks is safer ground, and runs right into the arms of reputed mob boss Cain Casey.
Girls with Guns
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Girls with Guns
“Hammersmith” © 2016 By Michelle Grubb. All Rights Reserved.
“Bow and Arrow” © 2016 By Carsen Taite. All Rights Reserved.
“Hell Fire” © 2016 By Ali Vali. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-586-2
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: April 2016
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Shelley Thrasher
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri (graphicartist2020@hotmail.com)
Acknowledgments
We would like to thank our friends, family, hardworking beta readers, and steadfast spouses for their support. Thanks also to everyone at Bold Strokes Books for all the behind-the-scenes work, and a special shout out to our intrepid editor, Shelley Thrasher. To all our loyal readers who love suspenseful stories featuring powerful women—this collection is for you.
Bow and Arrow
Carsen Taite
Chapter One
I didn’t mean to give Cash the biggest half of the burger, but even at my hungriest I wasn’t about to yank a piece of meat away from an eager dog. “Fine,” I told him, “but I’ve got dibs on the big half next time.”
Cash wolfed down his portion of the Whataburger with cheese before thanking me with a deep bark in his throaty Husky voice. As polite as he was, it was hard to begrudge him the extra bites. His other mother wasn’t about to feed him anything that wasn’t labeled organic—no wheat, no corn, no fun—so eating with me while I was on the job was his only chance at a decent meal.
I just hoped we wouldn’t be sitting here much longer. Less than an hour into this stakeout, and I was already twitching in my seat. A couple of months of living with Jess and I’d gotten soft. Now I was paying the price for blowing off work and reveling in the pleasure of home-cooked meals and a soft bed with clean sheets and a woman who I actually didn’t mind waking up with. My regular employer, bail bondsman Hardin Jones, had called last week to say if I wasn’t back at it ASAP, he was going to find a new bounty hunter to trust with his business. So instead of sitting in the comfort of Jess’s house, I was looking at a long Sunday afternoon spent waiting for a glimpse of the first guy on Hardin’s list.
Joe Cantoni was the nephew of Salvatore Cantoni and a big-time hood, but he’d been lucky enough to get caught doing only small-time stuff until just before Christmas, when he was swept up in a big counterfeit-purse sting. On a scale of serious to not much, purses would hardly seem to rate, but the haul was worth about a hundred grand, which made it a first-degree felony. The DA’s office was salivating at the prospect of taking down one of the Cantoni family’s top lieutenants, who they were certain had committed a ton of not-so-white-collar offenses. If they got a guilty on the purse deal, they could introduce all Joe’s other transgressions during sentencing and wouldn’t have to prove it all beyond a reasonable doubt. Tricky and kind of not fair, but I had a hard time sympathizing with the guy who was in charge of taking out anyone who crossed the family. What goes around, comes around and all that.
I’d been scouting Joe out for a couple of days and finally found his hidey-hole here at a simple-looking bungalow in East Dallas. I knew the place. It belonged to a friend of mine, Morris Hubbard aka Bingo, who was finally back in business after being caught in the middle of a power grab between a couple of rival families last year. Bingo ran one of the oldest private gambling rings in Dallas, and I’d sorely missed him while he was out of commission since I used to spend several days a week cashing in paydays for chips to play on his tables. I’d made it over here only twice since he’d reopened, but I wasn’t quite ready to admit why I’d shirked one of my favorite habits now that it was readily available again.
Like magic, my phone rang, and the name on the screen was a flashing reminder of everything I’d given up and gained at the same time. “Hey, Jess.”
“Hey, Luca. You working?”
I spent a second reading the tone. She wasn’t checking up on me, just curious. “Yep. You?”
“Called it for the night. I was thinking about Thai. You interested?”
It was food, so the answer should’ve been a given, but the lilt in her voice told me the food was only a prelude. I glanced at the orange-and-white striped bag from Whataburger, then at Bingo’s place. Cash watched me carefully before he put a paw on my thigh and whined something that sounded like “go home.” I’m strong but not strong-willed, and the combination of the promise in Jess’s voice and the fact I didn’t want to be working anyway spurred me to say I was on my way. But before I could speak the words, the front door of Bingo’s place opened and Joe Cantoni’s petite frame stepped onto the porch.
“Babe, I’m very interested. Give me an hour and I’ll be there.” Before she could respond with more bewitching subtext, I clicked off the line and motion
ed for Cash to stay put. He whined as I opened the door, and I caved like always. “Okay, but stay close and wait for my signal.”
I slipped out, circled my Bronco, and waited. Joe’s car was three down and across the street. If I moved quickly I could intercept him before he even stepped into the road, and since I was almost a foot taller, he wouldn’t have a chance. Sometimes I tried to sweet-talk jumpers into coming with me with stories about how I could help them out with the court, make sure everything was cleared up once they explained why they’d missed their appearances. It was always a lie, which didn’t bother me in the least, but Joe Cantoni wasn’t the type of guy who’d fall for my bullshit. This takedown would have to be all muscle.
I hunkered down and listened to the slap of his fancy loafers on the hard pavement. When the shadow of his little shoes came into view, I lunged forward and grabbed both his arms, yanking them up and across his back.
“What the hell?”
His voice was loud and full of surprise, and I decided to let the surprise work for me. After I made sure I had a good grip on his hands, I pulled my gun and rested the barrel behind his ear. Then I leaned in close and whispered, “Stay quiet or you’re a dead man.”
All bluff. If I was going to kill someone, and I’d thought about it plenty, it wasn’t going to be a nothing like Cantoni. He was a piece of shit, but he’d never shit on me personally. He wasn’t worth a single bullet from my prized Colt 45.
“You’re the one who’s dead,” he said. “Do you know who I am?” Cantoni’s voice rose with each syllable.
“I absolutely know who you are. Do you happen to know how high a bond your uncle posted to get you out of jail?”
He squinted and stared. While he tried to figure out if I worked for Salvatore or someone else, I glanced over at Cash, who shook his head and yawned. I could feel his pain. Now that we’d nabbed our guy, all I wanted to do was get Cantoni downtown and booked in time to make it home for dinner with Jess. I tried to tell myself it was because I like the food from the Thai place, but a nagging inner voice insisted on other reasons for my sudden preference for a sit-down meal at home versus a high-profile nab worth a bunch of cash.
Hell, I’d gone domestic.
With the realization, my stubborn streak reared its head. Maybe I would make it home for dinner, maybe I wouldn’t, but right now I was focused only on this guy and the money I’d get for bringing him in. Maybe after I got my cash, I’d head back here and play a few games at Bingo’s tables. I didn’t answer to anyone and I could do whatever I wanted, but I needed to get Cantoni in my car before some of his pals came along. I motioned for my assistant. “Cash, do your thing.”
Cash advanced on Cantoni until he was just out of kicking distance, then bared his teeth and growled. Completely out of his nature, but very convincing to strangers—we’d spent a lot of time and hot dogs perfecting this trick. While Cash kept an eye on Joe, I cuffed him and shoved him into the front passenger seat of my Bronco. Cash leapt into the back and put his growling mug between us while Joe inched his way over to the window.
“Where’re you taking me?”
“Lew Sterrett,” I said, referring to the Dallas County jail. No sense letting him wonder anymore. “Don’t worry. Maybe when you explain to the judge you had to skip court to play poker, he’ll let you out on bond again.”
The look of confusion disappeared from his face and he shot me a knowing smile. “You’re Luca Bennett. I heard of you. You’re the gal that works for Hardin.”
My turn for the knowing smile. “Freelance. Hardin calls me when he needs help. You know, someone he can rely on.”
He shrugged as if to say potato, potato. He shot a cautious glance at Cash. “That some kind of Eskimo dog?”
I shook my head. “Husky. They’re known for their ability to catch fugitives.”
“How much you getting for hauling me in?”
I adjusted the mirror and drove to the end of the street, hoping he’d get the hint I wasn’t interested in making small talk all the way to the jail.
“Seriously, Bennett, whatever he’s paying you, I can double it.”
There was a time the offer would’ve tempted me. I was a little tempted now. I might be living in domestic bliss, but I still kept my payouts in a coffee can. Still, I wasn’t about to jeopardize my relationship with Hardin for a few extra bucks, no matter how many poker games I could buy into with the cash. He’d given me work when no one else would.
“I don’t need your money,” I lied.
Cantoni slumped back in his seat, but his eyes were still bright. I figured he was churning through ideas about what I might need that could convince me to cut him loose. He shouldn’t have bothered. I had work. I had a good woman who loved me, a nice place to live, a car that started most of the time, and a loyal dog. Wasn’t a damn thing he had that I wanted. Or so I thought.
“You found me pretty easy. Was that an accident or was it because you’re good at what you do?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re okay, but it was more me being stupid about wanting a game of cards than you being some Nancy Drew girl.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that Nancy Drew girl was redundant and that she and I were pretty much nothing alike. I drove a Bronco; she drove a convertible sportster. Her father was a well-known lawyer; my father was a retired drunk. She dated a quarterback while I did the quarterback’s sister. The list was endless. The only similarity was that she always solved her case, and, at least in this instance, so had I. I pointed this out to him.
“True, but there’s one case you didn’t solve. Whatever happened to Teresa Perez?”
Teresa Perez. Another girl I didn’t have much in common with. I was a cop for six months; she’d been married to the job. She was bitter and cynical; I was only cynical. I caught criminals; she was one. Last time I saw Detective Teresa Perez, she’d helped a handful of Mexican Mafia madmen, who she’d been supplying with drugs, take down her fellow officer, Jessica Chance, and then me. The fact she’d escaped before the good cops showed up was a huge sore spot. Perez had been in the wind for several months now, and a day didn’t pass without me thinking about revenge. Cantoni’s comment had me more than curious. “You know something?”
He lifted his cuffed hands and scratched his chin. Pure affectation. “Maybe.”
I’d put the word out on the street that I was looking for Perez, and nothing would make me happier than to be the one to haul her in. His maybe was the first real lead I had. The question now was whether Cantoni was fucking with me. “Spill.”
“What’s in it for me?”
I steered the Bronco to the curb with one hand and eased back the flap of my jacket with the other, enough so he could see my gun. “I haven’t decided yet. Just depends on what you have to say.”
“I know you’re looking. You’re not the only one, though. Those guys she left behind? They don’t mess around when it comes to dealing with loose ends. Word is that Jose Calderon has a bounty on her.”
I perked up. Jose Calderon was the Mexican Mafia captain who’d lured Perez to the dark side and then been double-crossed by her. If Calderon was looking for Perez, it was only a matter of time before she turned up. Probably dead. I needed to find her first if I wanted any kind of justice. “Too bad you don’t have the kind of reach Calderon does.”
“Aw, come on. I got connections. You cut me loose, I’ll get the lowdown and fill you in. Swear.”
I took the car out of park and started to pull back onto the road. He’d gotten my hopes up, but I was over it. Time to turn in the fugitive and collect my winnings. I’d barely driven two feet when he shouted.
“Wait!”
I slammed on the brakes and shot him the evil eye. “Don’t yell when I’m driving, asshole.”
“Look,” he said, “I’ll tell you what I know only if you let me go. I promise it’s good.”
I stayed in the road this time, foot on the brake. “I’m supposed to believe an
ything you say? A minute ago you had to go looking for information, but now you’re saying you had it all along? Give me a break.”
“It’s complicated. A bunch of people are on the hunt for Perez, not just the Mexicans.”
“Let me guess. You were hanging on to what you know, waiting for the highest bidder?”
He ducked my glance. I knew I was right, and the rush of anticipation pushed me to take a leap. “Start talking. Tell me everything.”
*
A couple of hours later, Cash and I strolled through the door of Jess’s house. Our house. Whatever. Two months in and I couldn’t quite get used to the whole concept of two people living together. My parents had tried it for years, but it had never gone smoothly. Jess and I had shared living quarters since just before Christmas, and it couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Made me nervous, like any minute it would all come crashing down around us. Maybe tonight I was trying to help it along.
“Luca?”
Her voice was velvet, warm, and not at all what I expected since I was way late. What would she think when I fessed up that I’d spent the evening with a fugitive and hadn’t earned a dime since I’d turned him loose in return for what might turn out to be a shady promise? “Be right there.”
I sent Cash ahead of me into the kitchen to test the atmosphere. Once I heard her cooing gently in his ear, I strode in.
“You catch your guy?”
She smiled as she asked the question, and deep in my heart I knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but the words left a slight sting. She’d spent her day as a homicide detective for Dallas PD. She’d worked hard and earned her keep. I only worked when I had to, and now I’d given up my paycheck on my first day back. I hadn’t earned any money, but if what Cantoni had to say turned out to be true, I had something more valuable. The question was whether I would share what I knew.