Find Me by Cassie Miles

Author:Cassie Miles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-09-23T02:58:14+00:00

Chapter Eleven

There was movement from the front of the shop and the sound of someone kicking through the broken glass from the window. A voice called out, “Hold your fire. It’s me, Julian Parisi. Are you all right?”

The Baker aimed his weapon at the open doorway. “Are these bastards with you?”

“You know they aren’t.” His voice was angry. “I overheard you yelling at each other. You knew that Damien worked for Zapata. I’ve been chasing all over the damn place, looking for him. All the while, you knew I was wasting my time. You knew who he was.”

“Maybe you’re not so smart, Professor.”

This was only the second time she’d heard anyone use Julian’s nickname, and she didn’t miss the sneer in Valentino’s tone. In spite of Julian’s intelligence, he didn’t have much in the way of street smarts.

“Here’s my question,” the Baker said. “If you weren’t working with Damien, how did you end up here in the middle of the night?”

“I saw him at Nick’s, picked him up with facial recognition on the surveillance cameras. Instead of grabbing him, I followed him when he left the casino and got in his car. I didn’t know he was coming here, didn’t know he was gunning for you.”

The Baker heaved a heavy sigh. “You got anybody else with you?”

“Rudy and two other guys,” Julian said. “Are we done talking? I need to get in there and clean up your mess before the cops arrive.”

“Yeah, you can come in.”

He stepped through the door with his hands raised over his head, which was smart because Valentino was still armed and ready to shoot anybody who irritated him. When Julian looked in her direction, she could tell he was surprised to see her and angry, very angry. “Good evening, Angie.”

The sound of his voice comforted and disturbed her at the same time. Even though he’d given an explanation for why he was here, the timing of his arrival felt strangely coincidental. Not that she thought he was working with the cartel like Zapata, but she knew that Julian was an important cog in Lorenzo’s machine.

She looked from the dead men on the floor to Julian. Both sides of this battle were criminals. There was nobody to root for. She tried to force a smile but failed. “Glad to see you.”

He turned his back on her and asked the Baker, “What’s she doing here?”

“Buying a cake.”

“At midnight on a Sunday?” He shook his head in disgust and disbelief. “That’s what I call a half-baked story.”

Valentino chuckled. “Good one.”

Julian leaned over Damien’s body, felt for a pulse and shot her a glance. “Did you kill him, Angie?”

“She tried.” The Baker illustrated by making his thumb and forefinger into a gun. “Blondie has a little pop gun in her purse.”

How could he make jokes? She stared into the lifeless eyes of the man who had fallen only a few feet away from her. Blood stained his pale yellow shirt, his face and his hands. In death, his fingers still clutched his weapon.

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