Lex blew out air, her body relaxing. “Now, Mom.”
“Fine, but you promise you won’t be mad. It’s that handsome dark-haired man with the pretty eyes. Donny. It’s Donny.”
Lex’s head snapped up.
Donny Masterson sighed and drew his gun. “Hang up.”
No way. Betrayal pierced her chest. Lex slowly disengaged the phone to slip it into her pocket. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Leave the phone here,” he ordered.
Fuck. She took out her phone and set it on the table. “Why?”
“The money is good, and we’ve made a fortune selling on the inside at the prisons.” Masterson kicked out of his chair and gestured for her to stand. “I’ll kill you or Bundt or anybody in my way. You understand?”
“Yeah.” She followed his gesture to stand in front of him. “But you got shot.”
“Spike, that fucking moron, heard I’d gotten a kill order for him, so he decided to shoot first.” Masterson shoved the gun into her ribs. “Prick.”
“Why did you have a kill order for Spike?”
Masterson sighed, as if put upon. “After Bundt brought in Spike, we were worried about his connection to you and his connection to your old man. I was concerned about Spike’s desperate need to please you, and I figured he might just tell you all. So he needed to die.”
“Did you kill him?” she whispered.
“Not personally.” Masterson pushed harder with the gun. “Move, Lex.”
She winced and started moving toward the squad room. A quick glance around showed Bundt on his phone, several cops working cases, and a couple victims filling out reports. If she screamed, somebody would get shot. She could make a move, but Masterson was good, even with one arm. And his gun was out and ready.
“Keep moving, Lex,” he said, pressing harder.
She nodded and acted natural, heading through the throng. When she made her move, it’d have to be without so many civilians around. The guy had one arm and was a moron.
But he’d fooled her.
She reached the exit and stumbled. Masterson shoved the gun harder. “I really don’t want to shoot you,” he muttered.
Sure, he did.
“I don’t see another way out of this, do you?” she asked under her breath.
“Actually, yes.” He propelled her along. “Get into my truck and start driving, beautiful. It’s time to go see Daddy.”
She stumbled. “He’s out?”
“Oh yeah. He’s out and is looking forward to meeting up with your dumb-ass mama again. She’s apparently on her way to see him.” Masterson gestured for her to open the passenger side door and scoot over.
She did so, her head roiling. “My mom is on her way there?” Fear trembled through Lex’s hands, and she had to fight not to turn on Masterson. Not yet, and not until she knew where her mother was going.
Masterson smiled and sat, the gun pointed levelly at her gut. “Drive. Then maybe you and I can have some fun together.”
She rolled her eyes. “One-handed criminals who betray the badge aren’t my type, asshole.”
He laughed. “What is your type? What exactly is Kellach Dunne? A biker or a true international hero, like those documents said?”
Lex started the car and pulled out into the road, training kicking in and slowing her heart so she could concentrate. “I think he’s a hero, and the second he finds out about this, you’d better hope I’ve already plunked your ass in jail.” Heat flared down her torso as adrenaline kicked in and allowed her focus to narrow. “He won’t go for jail. He’ll cut off your fucking balls.” Yeah, true statement.
Masterson scoffed. “We’ll see about that. I tell ya, the guy has enemies.”
Lex shook her head. “Did you kill Spike?”
“No, my partner did.” Masterson smiled, the usual charm gone.
“Burned the bastard and stuck him to a tree outside Fire to show Spike was working with the cops.”
“Why videotape Spike?” she asked, trying to keep him talking.
Masterson chuckled. “To be honest, we figured Pyro would take him down, and we’d have leverage over that asshole. Imagine my surprise when I reclaimed the footage and saw the fucking Irish assholes right where I wanted them.”
Her mouth went dry, and she tried to swallow. “Why turn them in?”
“To keep you busy. We know you’re fucking one of them.” Masterson snorted. “I had no clue they were undercover, however. My partner didn’t seem surprised, though.”
“Your partner? Yuri Demidov?” she asked, turning down another street when Masterson gestured.
Masterson frowned, both eyebrows going up. “Nice work, Detective.”
“Gee, thanks, dickhead.” She rolled her eyes. “Wasn’t that tough. So how did Demidov find you?”
Masterson rolled his wounded shoulder. “I’ve been running meth for about ten years, on the streets with Spike and in the prison with Parker. Somehow, Demidov found me and made an offer for me to distribute Apollo. It’s been going well.”
“That shit kills people,” she spat.