Against the Night - Kat Martin

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of soft flannel pajamas. It was two-thirty in the morning. The club was closed and both of them were dead on their feet. “Maybe I’ll have a chance to look around, find some kind of clue. You said he and Rachael dated for a while. Kyle probably made her all sorts of promises, lured her into going out with him by saying the kind of things he said to me. Rachael wanted to be a star. She might have trusted that he could help her get the break she needed.”

       “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous. What if Kyle killed her? Maybe he’ll make you disappear, too.”

       Amy ignored the little shiver that crawled down her spine. “That’s not going to happen because you aren’t going to let it. I’ll call him tomorrow, get his address and set up a time on Thursday to go to his house. If I’m not back in a couple of hours, you’ll call the police.”

       “How’s that gonna help if you’re already dead?”

       Amy ignored that bit of wisdom and the little shiver it sent down her spine.

       Babs slipped between the sheets on her twin bed and pulled the covers up over her. “How are you gonna get there? You don’t even have a car.”

       Amy brightened. “No, but you do.” She gave her friend a sugary smile. “And I know you’re going to let me borrow it.”

       Babs scoffed. “Traffic’s a lot different in L.A. than driving in Grand Rapids.”

       Amy sat down on the edge of the bed. “You said you’d help me.”

       “I know, I know. It isn’t the car. It’s just that I’m afraid something will happen to you.”

       “We don’t even know if Kyle’s involved.”

       “Even if he isn’t, he might try something and then where will you be?”

       Amy didn’t want to think about that. Getting attacked by some Hollywood weirdo was a terrifying thought. “Okay, so you’ll loan me your car and your pepper spray.”

       Babs laughed. “I knew I liked you the first time I talked to you on the phone. Okay, we’ll figure something out.” She yawned behind her hand. “Listen, what about getting the Ranger guy to help you? He’s supposed to be an expert on that kind of thing.”

       Amy drew back the covers and slipped beneath the sheets. “I thought about it. But I can’t afford him.”

       “I saw you two talking tonight. Maybe he’ll work for something besides money.” Babs wiggled her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t suggest it except that you’re thinking about doing it anyway.”

       “I am not thinking about doing it.” Oh, she so was. She had always walked the straight and narrow, always been the good little girl. But since she had come to L.A. and started dancing half naked, she felt free for the first time in her life. She knew that if she got the chance, she was going to have sex with Johnnie Riggs. “Besides, he might not show up in here again.”

       “He’ll show up.”

       Babs was probably right. Just thinking of the determined way he had looked at her tonight made her stomach contract. “Maybe I’ll talk to him a little, see what he has to say.”

       “Good idea.” Babs yawned again. “In the meantime, turn out the light. We both need to get some sleep.”

       Amy thought of the conversion she needed to have with Johnnie Riggs. She closed her eyes, but she couldn’t fall asleep.

      Three

      Johnnie arrived at Cisco’s Cantina a little after eleven the following night. The bar, decorated in a south of the border style with cactus painted on the walls and leather-covered tables and chairs, was crowded. The clientele was mostly white-collar, lawyers and secretaries, corporate types and office assistants, a lot of men in designer jeans. The drinks were only moderately expensive and at this time of night, the lights were turned low.

       Johnnie was there to meet DEA special agent Kent Wheeler, who had been working for years to build a case against a high-level drug dealer named Carlos Ortega, one of the major players in the San Dimas cartel. Over the years, Johnnie and Wheeler had helped each other a number of times and tonight was no exception.

       “I appreciate your call,” Wheeler said, joining him at the bar, a lean, athletically built man with slightly receding brown hair and a pale complexion. Johnnie had left a message on the agent’s cell phone that he had information Wheeler might need. “What have you got?”

       “Might be nothing, but my guy’s pretty reliable. I had Ty Brodie helping me with surveillance on a guy whose wife wanted to find out if he was cheating. According to Ty, turns out the husband wasn’t screwing around. He’s into some major shit with the San Dimas cartel.”

       Wheeler whistled softly. “Got a name?”

       “Joseph Pandaro. Ty picked up on some of the guy’s conversation with a couple of lowlifes down at The Cave. Heard them talking about a big load of coke coming into the San Pedro docks the end of the month.”

       Wheeler was nodding. “We’ve been hearing rumors, nothing specific.”

       “He didn’t get a date, but it’s sometime in the next few weeks.”

       “Anything else?”

       Johnnie shook his head. “I pulled the kid off the case. He’s ex-military, tough as nails, but he doesn’t have the street savvy to deal with thugs like those.”

       Wheeler took a sip of his drink, nearly as untouched as Johnnie’s beer. “Thanks, I really appreciate the info.”

       “Just remember where you got it. I may need a favor sometime.”

       It was quid pro quo, and both of them knew it. As a GS-13, the highest rank in the DEA, Wheeler was a powerhouse and dedicated to the service. At the moment, Johnnie didn’t need anything from him, but there would likely be a time when he would.

       From Cisco’s, Johnnie climbed into his black Ford Mustang G.T. and fired up the powerful V-8 engine. He’d just bought the car, his pride and joy, a couple of months ago, black leather interior, 412 horsepower, 5.0 engine. Plus, he’d had a mechanic friend of his soup it up even more. The beast could really move. The car and his Harley Sportster helped him do his job and have a little fun while he was at it.

       He eased the car into the traffic moving down Sunset, taking in the crowds prowling the sidewalks and the laughter and music spilling out of the clubs crowded together on each block. He wasn’t ready to go back to his apartment up the hill. Not yet.

       His destination lay ahead. Just past La Cienega, he turned into the parking lot next to the Kitty Cat Club and slipped the car in one of the empty spaces. There was something he needed inside and it wasn’t a bottle of beer. Though he’d probably have to settle for that again tonight.

       He climbed out of the Mustang, locked the car and sauntered toward the door leading into the club. The music was blasting, a steady hard-rock beat. The redhead he had seen the other night was dancing onstage. He glanced around, spotted his quarry even before he reached what was lately becoming his regular table at the back of the room.

       Angel’s gaze collided with his and she nearly dropped her tray. Damn, she was cute. Johnnie winked at her and smiled, sat down at the table, leaned back and waited.

       Amy forced her legs to keep moving. She felt like an idiot. One glance at the man in the snug black T-shirt and she turned into a bumbling fool. As she walked past Babs, her friend raised a hand and wiggled the tips of her fingers.

       “Still owe me that five bucks, kiddo. Tonight, I intend to collect.”

       “Okay, I owe you, but that doesn’t mean he’s here tonight for me.”

       Babs just rolled her eyes and kept walking. Riggs was sitting in Amy’s section. There was no way to avoid him. She took a calming breath, forced a note of cool into her demeanor and started toward his

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