Beneath This Ink (Beneath #2)

V: On my way.

I slid my phone onto the counter and headed to the front window. I locked the door and flipped off the open sign. It was stupid to close early on a Saturday night because I’d undoubtedly piss off at least one potential customer, but tonight had been unusually slow. Besides, I’d piss off hundreds of customers if it meant an extra night with Vanessa. Bad business, but what could I do? Even though she seemed into trying to make this work, we both knew it couldn’t last forever. And that sucked. Especially because forever wasn’t even sounding long enough in my book.

YOLO boy came back in the room and I rewashed my hands and gloved up again to finish his tat. According to his ID, he lived in a rich area of the city, and he’d turned eighteen three days ago. Good money said his mother was going to be dragging his ass to the tattoo removal place when she found out. Not my problem.



There was a knock on the backdoor when I was re-locking the front after letting YOLO boy out.

Perfect timing.

I crossed to the other end of the shop and pulled it open.

It wasn’t Vanessa. It was Hennessy.

“What do you want?”

“Got some news for you,” he answered.

“Can you make it quick?”

He lifted his chin. “Hot date?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Fine. But I don’t want to do this in the alley.”

I shoved the door open wider and closed it behind him. Hennessy headed into the break room, making himself comfortable on the dog-hair-covered couch. His suit would be furry when he stood, but I didn’t particularly care to let him know that. I waited in the doorway, arms crossed over my chest.

“What you got?”

“Your boy, Lord, took a gun in on pawn earlier this week.”

“And?” Lord took dozens of guns in on pawn and outright bought even more. We paid top dollar and worked hard to make sure everyone knew that Chains was the place to go to unload your hardware if you needed cash. And we worked with Hennessy to run all of them through the police database. It wasn’t something most other pawnshops did, but it was pretty much the entire reason I owned mine. The gun that killed my parents had never been found. It might’ve been a long shot, but I kept hoping one day it would show up in my shop.

The adrenaline rushing through my veins at his next words gave me hope that it had.

“Lord sent me a spent casing and bullet to run, like he always does. A Smith and Wesson Bodyguard, .38 special.” He straightened and met my eyes. “It was a match, Con.”

Holy. Fuck.

“Where is it? Who owned it? Registration?”

“Don’t know yet. The serial number was filed off, so we’re still working on that part. But I thought you’d want to know that we’re getting one step closer. I pulled the case files and all the evidence from the warehouse. I’ll let you know what I come up with.”

I wanted answers. Now. And I remembered the little piece of information Gina Mulvado had shared. About a white guy pulling the strings. I probably should’ve passed that along to Hennessy, but I wasn’t quite ready. It didn’t always pay to lay out all your cards.

So instead, I thanked him for coming by. I needed to get him out of here before Vanessa showed. He’d already figured things out at the hospital, but I didn’t like the idea of him knowing any more than he already did.

“As soon as you know something, I want it,” I added.

“As long as you let the law handle it, I’ll keep you in the loop,” he countered.

I didn’t give him a verbal reply. Just a nod.

He pushed up from the sofa, already brushing the dog hair off his pants. “What the fuck?”

“One of my employees—her dog thinks that’s his bed. Sorry about that. I’d offer you a lint roller, but I’m fresh out.”

Hennessy shook his head. “You’re a prick, Leahy. You know that?”

“Takes one to know one.”

I turned and stepped into the hallway. A clear sign that I was ready for him to get the hell out of my shop. Hennessy took the hint.

“I’ll let you get on with your night, then.”

“Thanks for coming by. I appreciate it.”

The knock came on the back door just as Hennessy was reaching for the handle. He pulled it open. I heard Vanessa’s sharp intake of breath before I could see her face. I assumed it was a picture of horror.

“Ms. Frost,” Hennessy said. “Hope you’ve recovered from the other night.”

I wrapped my palm around the door and pulled it open wider. Vanessa looked as perfect as ever in a pale blue sundress and sandals. A thin white sweater covered her shoulders.

I tried to picture us from Hennessy’s point of view. On no planet did we look like we belonged together.

“Detective Hennessy,” Vanessa said, clearing her throat. “Thank you for your concern. As you can see, I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll leave you two alone,” he replied.