Girl Undercover 8 & 9: Traitor & The Smiley Killer Read online

  The sooner I got together with him, the sooner we could hope to solve everything.

  Oh, no! I texted back. Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow then.

  My phone vibrated and I saw that he’d responded with three big heart emoticons. I grimaced with disgust, but made myself type back a couple of hearts myself, consoling myself with the fact that at least I didn’t have to be near him.

  Now that I didn’t have plans for the evening, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I called Ian to see if he’d heard from Burt or Nadja, but he didn’t pick up. I called Dante to see if there was any news about Captain Brady. He did pick up, but said he had yet to return to the hospital to talk to Brady. Which was to be expected given that only a couple of days had passed since the first time he’d gone.

  Having nothing better to do and in need of a workout anyway, I changed into running gear. A long run would do me good and it was still light out, which meant the park would be full of people. Ever since the incident with Felix Bose, I didn’t feel comfortable running in the park after dark.

  By the time I was almost done with my six-mile run, I found myself passing by the block with Jonah’s massive apartment building. The sun had set and the sky was a mixture of burning red, orange and pink colors across which gray clouds stretched like giant brushstrokes made by someone careless. I was glad that I was about to reach the finish line as, soon, night would fall, obscuring everything. Since I was running without my gun, I really wanted to be out of the park then.

  Experiencing the beginnings of a cramp in my calf suddenly, I decided to use the exit close to Jonah’s building and walk the rest of the way to my house. I was about to cross the multi-lane road when I spotted Jonah and one of the new trainer guys, a stunning young Puerto Rican, coming out of the main entrance. When I saw who was walking between them, I did a double take, stopping dead in my tracks.

  Nicki.

  And she was not looking happy. Stepping back behind the low stone wall and the trees that grew right at the exit, their branches low and leafy, I watched them as they stopped on the sidewalk. Jonah raised his arm to ostensibly hail a cab. It took a while before one slid up next to them and the three of them entered it.

  As soon as their cab was on its way, I jumped out from my hiding place and stuck out my own arm to get a cab. I could use the ATM card I’d put in my sports bra to buy water after my run to pay for it. I really didn’t like the idea of Nicki going off with Jonah and Carlos, looking that unhappy. Not after Jonah had told me she needed to be straightened out, not to mention be made an example of. What the hell was up with that? I hoped I was about to find out by following them.

  “Hello,” I said to the baldheaded cabdriver and leaned between the two headrests, pointing at Jonah’s cab. “See that cab there? Can you please follow it?”

  Much to my relief, the driver didn’t say anything and immediately took off instead, driving after the vehicle.

  Because there was little traffic, we followed them with ease for the next twenty, twenty-five minutes, not once losing track of them as we headed downtown. Finally, their cab stopped on a quiet street on the Lower East Side.

  My cabdriver came to a halt at the opposite side of the street.

  “Now what?” he asked, the first words that had come out of his mouth.

  I reached for my ATM card in my sports bra and told him that I wanted to exit, all the while watching Jonah, Nicki and Carlos leave their cab out of the corner of my eye. The driver told me to swipe the card in the machine behind the passenger seat headrest to pay. I did, then stepped out of the cab, just in time to see the three trainers walk into an Irish pub at the end of the block they were on.

  It had become significantly darker now, but streetlights made it easy to see what was going on across the entire block, so I needed to be careful. I waited a couple of minutes before crossing the street over to the side where the pub was, pondering whether to go inside or wait for Jonah and company to come back out. If the pub was as small as it appeared from the outside, a hole in the wall really, chances were they’d see me if I entered. Did I really want to risk that? I couldn’t think of a good enough reason to explain to Jonah what I was doing all the way down here on the Lower East Side, in the same trashy pub they had chosen to go to. There simply was no good explanation for it.

  I took a seat on the graying bench next to a bus stop, a fair distance from the pub and waited for them to reappear. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long. Wishing I had my latest burner phone with me so I could contact Ian and tell him what I was up to, I scanned my surroundings. It was a typical Lower East Side street, on the smaller side with a one-way road parting the block in two. Nondescript low-rise walk-up buildings lined the poorly maintained sidewalks, the colorful storefronts of small businesses such as nail salons, eateries and hardware stores taking up the ground floor of most buildings. A few of the businesses appeared to be Chinese-owned, which told me we were at the outskirts of China Town.

  Just as I was switching position on the bench, I caught sight of someone familiar coming out of a cab that had stopped close to the pub.

  It was Sam, another of the new trainers, an Asian guy in his early twenties who specialized in martial arts. He disappeared into the pub.

  Hmm, I thought. I wonder if more people from the club will show up here.

  I was dying to find out what they were doing in there. The good news was that, if other trainers were appearing, I could feel confident the others were still in there, not having left through some backdoor. But what could they be doing? Were they just drinking?

  Getting to my feet, I walked closer to the pub. There was a window on either side of the narrow entrance with the word “O’Malley’s” written diagonally across them. Unfortunately, the letters were so large and the glass so dark that it was surely hard to see into the place unless you were very near. I had resisted going over there for the longest time, as I didn’t know whether it was equally as hard to get a view of the street from the inside. Plus, I had no idea where the trainers were seated. If next to the windows, they might be able to glance out without much effort. I didn’t want to risk that. But I also didn’t feel like just sitting on my butt on that bench, waiting for them to come out, either. Patience had never been one of my strengths.

  I sighed as I debated what to do, my body moving closer to the first window, as if my legs had decided on their own that taking a peek was indeed worth the risk. Before I could reach it, however, the door to the bar opened and the four trainers filed out in a long line.

  Not daring to breathe, I pressed myself against the dusty brick wall, praying that none of them would suddenly turn their head in my direction. Even though I was in between two streetlights and shrouded in semi darkness, they might see me if they squinted, took their time.

  But they didn’t. Instead they walked down the street, away from me. I set after them, grateful for the darkness of night now as it enabled me to easily follow them without being detected.

  They walked several blocks heading farther south. They didn’t seem to be talking much amongst each other, nor worried that anyone was on their tail. After about a twenty-minute walk, we had reached City Hall. The four trainers didn’t stay there but continued toward the East River, which was nearby, and were soon entering the Brooklyn Bridge Walkway.

  It started to rain then, fat drops hitting my face, forked lightning brightening the sky while thunder sounded in the background. Great, I thought and wiped away rain from my eyes. Just what I need right now. Frowning, I wondered why the hell they were heading to Brooklyn at this time of night and by foot. Especially since the forecast had in fact promised rain tonight, I remembered now. Few bicyclists and pedestrians were using the popular, well lit promenade, which meant that, if I followed them as they crossed the river, they would spot me rather quickly, the rain notwithstanding.

  I quickly decided that I’d follow them anyway; I was too curious to see what they were up to. In order to minimize the probability of being detec
ted, I’d simply increase the distance between us. If they saw me, I could always turn around and run away. I was a good runner and could outrun most men. Of course, I doubted these men were regular humans… Even so, I decided to take my chances and continued after them. When I discovered there were several benches for people to rest on and tall, wide garbage cans on the walkway, I relaxed a little; I could always crouch down and hide behind one of those if they were to turn around.

  It wasn’t until they were more than halfway across the mile-long iconic bridge that I even began to suspect what they might have in mind. And when they stopped and Jonah pulled out something from his pocket and pointed it toward Nicki, who gazed out over the river on the other side of the rail, did I realize what I had come to dread was most likely correct.

  I rushed over to the nearest garbage can and squatted behind it in the nick of time because, right then, the other two trainers swiveled their heads in different directions, as if to check if there were other people around. A lonely bicyclist zipped by, but other than that, we were the only ones on this long stretch of the huge bridge.

  Jonah pointed toward the railing and the water with what had to be a gun in his hand, then pushed Nicki in that direction. She said something to him, her arms gesticulating wildly, which only resulted in Jonah slapping her with his free hand.

  I let out a choked gasp and watched her bury her face in her hands. It sounded like Jonah was screaming something at her; the windy, bad weather made it hard to tell, though. She turned around and climbed over the railing and up onto the long cables that stretched out over the dark water far, far beneath like long, metallic tentacles.

  Oh, God, is he going to make her jump?

  I couldn’t see why else he was making her do this. One of the other trainers pulled out what appeared to be a smartphone from his jacket and held it up toward Nicki, who was slowly climbing farther out over the black water. It looked like he may be filming what she was doing. I heard Jonah’s voice echo inside my head then: Make her an example…

  I squeezed my hands into tight fists as I fervently tried to think of what I could do to save Nicki from a sure death. Even if they only intended to scare her, the sharp winds and the metallic cables that surely were slippery from the rain could easily make her lose her grip and fall into the water fifty yards below.

  Oh, God, why didn’t I bring my gun with me for once while running!

  Then I could have shot these maniacs, killed all three of them. But the gun was at my house, safely tucked into my hip holster in my walk-in closet.

  As I watched her creep farther and farther out over the spidery cables, I prayed for other bicyclists to come by, several more. A pack of late-night runners. Someone who’d force them to cut this evil stunt short. But no one was coming up behind me, nor could I see anyone appearing at the other side of where the guys were. I contemplated screaming to interrupt them, pretend like someone was attacking me.

  Yes, that could work.

  As much as the other trainers were looking around, it sure seemed like they worried about eye witnesses to what they were doing. Then, when they discovered me, I’d make them bring her back in. Not the best plan, but it was all I had. I had to do something to stop them from going through with this horrible deed. My scream would of course alert Jonah to the fact that I’d followed them. How would I explain that? What could I possibly say? Even if I pretended that someone had tried to attack me—a lame excuse in itself—how had I ended up on the Brooklyn Bridge in the first place?

  There was nothing I could say. And I knew on a logical level that revealing myself to Jonah and the other two was not the wisest decision—if I did, I’d put the rest of the world at risk. Would Ian be able to stop Adler on his own? By revealing myself, I might very well sign my own death warrant. Jonah would surely be beyond furious. Even so, even with the whole world and myself at risk, I needed to at least try to save Nicki from plunging off the bridge.

  So I opened my mouth and got ready to scream help as loudly as I could. But as I felt the sound leave my throat, a deafening thunder roared across the sky, lasting for several seconds, drowning it out. The trainers barely reacted to the sound of the thunder and Jonah yelled something at Nicki, who was still hanging on to the cables. Getting ready to scream again, the rain heavier than ever now, I watched how she suddenly slipped off the cables and disappeared into the darkness.

  ***

  I didn’t know what time it was when I was back uptown and pressing Ian’s buzzer; all I knew was that I needed to see him, have him tell me that I had done all I could to save Nicki. It took a couple of minutes of me pressing his button firmly, without interruption, for him to finally buzz me in. He was waiting for me in his doorway, wearing only boxers and bedhead hair. My face was drenched in rain, sweat, and tears as I stumbled into his arms, burying my head in the crook of his neck.

  He didn’t immediately say anything, just held me close and let me cry against his chest as he gently stroked my sopping wet hair.

  At last I removed my face from him and wiped at my eyes with the heel of my hand.

  He stepped aside without saying a word, and held the door for me so I could enter his place. I walked inside, spotting Massimo walk by, as silently as a ghost, and slip under the brown leather couch in Ian’s living area. I went right for the couch where I plopped down and brought my knees to my chest, hugging them.

  Ian disappeared for a moment, then returned with a tumbler in his hand that contained what I assumed must be whiskey, neat. He extended the glass to me and I received it, gratefully, swallowing all of it in one drink. The liquor burned my throat like fire on the way down.

  He sat down on the stuffed velvet chair at the end of the couch, facing me.

  “Want to tell me what happened?” he said, regarding me kindly.

  “I just saw Jonah kill someone.” The mere action of having to say those words was so painful, my chest ached like I was having a heart attack. Oh, God, I should have been able to save her…

  I held out my glass to Ian, who took it, instantly sensing I needed more liquor to soothe me. Hard liquor, not wine.

  He got to his feet and soon returned with another finger of whiskey that I swept.

  “Thank you,” I said and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “Who did he kill?” Ian asked, sitting down on the chair again.

  “Nicki. He and two of the other new trainers made her plunge off the Brooklyn Bridge. I don’t think she survived the fall into the water.”

  Ian inhaled deeply, clenching his jaw, then, “How did you end up witnessing it?”

  I told him how I’d gone for a run and how I’d spotted Jonah, Carlos, and a reluctant Nicki get into a cab as I was about to exit the park, and what happened after that.

  He reached for my hand. “It’s not your fault, Gabi. Even if you’d have stopped it from happening tonight, I’m sure Jonah would have found a way to kill her another time. You tried and you failed. Personally, I’m happy you failed, as cruel as that might sound. The fact of the matter is, we won’t be able to save everyone. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop them without your help.” He squeezed my hand. “I need you, Gabi. I need you to help me. If they’d have seen you, I don’t think you’d have survived no matter how much Jonah wants you. I’m pretty sure he loves himself more than he loves you.”

  I thought about Ian’s words, and they made me feel a little better. Because his assumption was correct; Jonah did love himself more than he loved me. I just happened to be the woman he was obsessed with at the moment, and that wasn’t about love. The expression on his face as he and the other two had marched past me in the pouring rain had told me all I needed to know in that regard.

  Jonah was not someone capable of loving anyone but himself.

  Chapter 3

  I slept in Ian’s bed that night, in his arms. Despite what had happened, I managed to fall asleep without taking any drugs; Ian’s proximity was apparently all that I had needed to relax.
r />   When I awoke, I was not feeling as bad about what had happened as I’d thought I would. Ian was right; I had tried to save Nicki and now I needed to let it go. I needed to focus on the future, or what was left of it. It was up to Ian and me to make sure there was one.

  We were seated next to his marble island, sipping on home-brewed coffee as he updated me on the status of Burt and Nadja.

  “He called me last night and she’s still gone,” he explained. “Using the burner phone he’d gotten by biking to Philly.”

  I raised a brow. “Biking to Philly?”

  “Yes. In addition to a car in the garage, there’s an old bike there. Philly’s only a few miles away.”

  “Ah. And he’s still convinced Adler has nothing to do with her sudden disappearance?” I asked as I brought one of the croissants Ian had heated up for us to my mouth.

  He nodded. “Yes. More than ever. If they were behind it, they would have come for him by now, he claims.” He broke off a piece of croissant from his plate. “Besides, he says there are signs of someone having lived in the house recently. Maybe still is.”

  My hand with the coffee cup stopped midair. “Really? That sounds significant. According to what you told me, no one’s been in that house for years, correct?”

  “That’s right. I even tried to connect with the son of my father’s friend yesterday. From what I was able to learn, he’s still in the Middle East and hasn’t been back in the U.S. for several months. And he’s the only one with access to the house.”

  “That leaves us with a burglar then, doesn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yes. Though, if you ask Burt, it looks like the burglar is someone who keeps coming back to the house and stays there. And it may be more than one, but probably not.”