Undercover Justice. Nico Rosso
it.”
Arash turned his attention back to the driver. “So there’s a sound, a double knock, that goes away when you rev, but I hear it in your idle. Get your ride to a mechanic you trust and tell them that you might have a bad piston pin. They’ll track it down. Take care of it soon, before it turns into big trouble.”
The woman revved the engine again, squinting and concentrating when she brought it back to idle. Stephanie picked up the double knock again, but couldn’t tell if the driver detected the sound. The driver seemed less skeptical and warmed with a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll get it looked at.” She put her car in Drive and headed out of the parking lot, waving out the window before she turned onto the boulevard.
Once she was gone, Arash continued his walk across the parking lot toward the mall. Stephanie strode with him, studying his face out of the corner of her eye, trying to find the motivation for what he just did. Instead of looking smug, or downright cocky, his expression was neutral. “You’ve got a good ear,” she told him.
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. In the light of day she saw that it was a simple black work jacket, heavy cotton with a corduroy collar. “Been living next to engines long enough.”
“But you’ve got a soft heart.” She couldn’t puzzle him out at all.
“Not when it comes to business.” His eyes hardened. He tipped his head in the direction where the woman had driven off. “I wasn’t going to make any money off that ride. Wasn’t going to fix it, steal it, part it out, joyride it or use it in a getaway. She was just trying to get to work, and I know a lot of people like that.”
Sure, that sounded on the level, but did he know that by taking the gig with Olesk, Arash would be running boys and girls for some of the worst criminals in the country? Those people were just trying to live their lives, as well. Stephanie’s chest tightened thinking about them. Before that anger took her over and she railed at Arash, she asked simply, “So what’s your ride?”
“Mazda RX-7 Turbo II, ’89.”
“I can see that.” He would fit well into the low-slung sports car, and there were plenty of opportunities to tune the ride into a well-handling street rocket. “White, with a turquoise roof?” It was from the ’80s, after all.
He chuckled. “Matte black, completely murdered out.” A hint of warmth cracked through his stony face. “That car...it’s what my parents would’ve driven if they’d had any money once they’d settled in the States after getting out of Iran in the late ’70s.”
She kept reminding herself to hate him, or at least that she couldn’t trust him, but hearing his softer tone when talking about his parents, or seeing the way he’d gone out of his way with the woman in the parking lot, Stephanie started to recognize that her job seeking justice was going to be way more complicated than she’d anticipated.
* * *
ARASH CURSED HIMSELF for helping the woman in the parking lot. He couldn’t make any more mistakes like that. Not while Stephanie or anyone else from Olesk’s gang was watching. She’d said he had a soft heart. Usually, he’d take that as a compliment, especially after all he’d seen growing up in the city. But a conscience had killed Marcos, and Arash had to stay alive to get revenge.
He hadn’t been able to read Stephanie when she called him out. She wasn’t directly looking down on him, or complimenting him, either. Her conscience remained a mystery. Under different circumstances, he’d try to trace her wiring, find out more of who she was. If this was just a simple road-trip fling, it would be different between them. So far there hadn’t been much friction. Neither was trying to pull too much leverage over the other.
As they walked past the sliding glass doors to the mall, he wanted to reach out and take her hand. Maybe they could rush away from Olesk and this mess together. Or he could convince her to run while she still had the chance. Then he could find her once it was all over. He kept his hands in his pockets. The urge was impossible. She’d wanted to join up with Olesk. How the hell could he convince her to break that? One wrong word to her and she’d go to Olesk, putting a target on Arash’s back. The only chance he had was to surprise the gang when they were all in one place. The big gig Olesk mentioned. He hated to think that he’d have to take Stephanie down, as well.
The morning people at the mall went about their business, wrangling kids, hurrying for last-minute items or strolling aimlessly like they had all the time in the world. None of them looked at Arash and Stephanie as if they were criminals. He navigated through the ordinary world, very much outside of it.
“Department store.” Stephanie pointed to a multilevel store that anchored one side of the mall. “That should set you up, and I need some things, as well.” She cruised forward, like she was completely comfortable in her skin.
While he was edged with bands of tension around his joints. Helping the woman in the parking lot was a lousy attempt to collect karma, and it hadn’t offset that he was a bad guy again. It didn’t matter if he had the best intentions. For the first time since running with burglars and car thieves in high school, he was part of a bad crew about to do bad things.
Stephanie stopped walking and stared at him as if waiting. He blinked at her and she spoke slowly. “Menswear.” She moved her gaze deliberately to a sign off to their right. “That coffee hasn’t kicked in?”
“Gonna need a gallon.” Not true. He was fully awake, mind buzzing between guilt and revenge.
“Rally,” she said. “Olesk could text any second and we have to be ready to burn.”
“I’m on.” He rolled his shoulders to move his blood.
“Do you need me to wait outside the dressing room?” she sassed.
“You can help me decide between boxers or briefs.” He was a breath away from inviting her into the dressing room and testing how well they really balanced.
She took her time looking him up and down, giving him the sensation of cool river water running along his body. A shiver shook him and he was left thirsty for more. She finally gazed into his eyes and blinked slowly. “Split the difference. Boxer briefs.” And she was gone, before he could answer or see if there was really a hint of heat in her eyes. She cruised easily toward the up escalator. He stared too long and she knew it, waving without turning around.
He turned and walked toward menswear. If she was watching from the escalator, he didn’t give her anything except a casual strut. But inside, he stormed. He barely paid attention to the clothes he was grabbing. T-shirts, spare pair of jeans, sweatshirts, all of them dark colors. It didn’t take long for his arm to be full, making his search through the socks and underwear more awkward than it should have been. Stephanie had called his bluff and identified his preferred underwear choice. No doubt she’d gloat if she saw the packages of boxer briefs on top of the rest of his pile of clothes.
A division of the menswear area had sport clothes and shoes, where he picked up a backpack to contain everything. In his normal life, he’d have been watching the price tags closer, but he had an envelope full of dirty cash in his jacket and wouldn’t miss it once it was gone.
Arash peeled some hundred-dollar bills out of the envelope and pocketed them before walking his clothes to the cashiers at the front of the store. The young black man manning his station was cheerful and bored. They went through the requisite small talk, Arash saying he didn’t need a bag because of the backpack. The cashier didn’t blink when Arash handed over the crisp cash to pay, then took his change.
While Arash was stuffing his new clothes into the backpack, he could see out the front windows of the department store and into the mall. On the floor above him, Stephanie walked out the doors of a cell phone carrier and disappeared up the walkway. She wasn’t moving too fast or looking over her shoulder, but it was still sketchy. He packed faster and hurried out of the department store with a thanks to the cashier.
When he hit the walkway in the mall, Stephanie was nowhere in sight. He got up to the second floor via a flight of stairs, trying to figure