She tipped her head back to look at him. He was staring down at her with golden eyes. Just the way his gaze moved possessively over her sent heat rushing through her veins. He was probably right. At least he suited her. She wasn’t going to argue. In any case, they’d know soon enough.

12

“THIS place can’t be traced back to us?” Alonzo asked Gorya as they moved together down the narrow corridor, avoiding tripping on the old bricks scattered everywhere.

“No. It belongs to the Dean estate and has been empty for years. He was a slum lord and his children aren’t much better. The best part of it is, it’s right smack in the middle of Deadmen territory. Our undercover officer infiltrated them a couple of years back and took down key members of the gang. They hate him with a passion. If his blood and/or body are discovered here, the gang will be prime suspects. They made enough threats and two attempts.”

“You found the money trail? On all three of them?”

Gorya nodded, hurrying to keep up with his cousin’s long stride. “The dispatcher and cop were easy. Both are greedy sons of bitches. The security guard’s name is Aaron Alderman. He’s out of Chicago. We caught him at the airport, and he’s no security guard.” Gorya sent him a grim smirk. “I think he thought we were soft out here.”

“Wait until he meets my leopard.” Alonzo yanked open the heavy door to the old kitchen. The building had once been a mental hospital, the patients gone for over two decades. The intention had been to tear it down and put up apartment buildings, but the owner had never bothered. The sprawling building had been condemned. Ceilings sagged and mold grew. Graffiti and used needles were everywhere. More than one dead body had been found on the premises over the years, and the notorious Deadmen, one of the bloodiest gangs in all of Texas, were known to claim the property, which might have been the reason the family did nothing with it.

The scent of blood and urine hit Alonzo as he strode into the room. The smells were familiar to him. He’d been raised on them. His mind instantly shut down the way it always did so that he felt absolutely nothing. Not anger. Not compassion. There was a job to be done, and he was very, very good at his job.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he greeted, his voice low. He never raised it. His father had liked to intimidate by shouting. Alonzo had learned that kind of energy could be dangerous and there was no need to expend it. If he showed rage, his leopard felt it tenfold and his leopard was dangerous most times, let alone when he felt Alonzo was angry or hurt. “I trust my brother has taken good care of you.”