Her head tilted back and she gave him another beam, open, out there, not hiding shit.
Fuck yeah, she was happy.
Happy to be with him.
Christ, he wanted that for her every breath she took. Wanted it in a way he knew he’d break his back for it, kill anyone who took it away.
Fuck. He hadn’t felt like that for any woman, except his mother.
And he hadn’t even given his ma the second half of that.
She adjusted her position so the side of her tit glanced against his arm as they walked and she kept smiling as she said quietly, “Yeah, Deke. Happy.”
With a tug on her hand, he stopped them, turned into her and bent to her.
She got what he was offering, lifted up on her toes and he touched his mouth to hers.
Hers was still smiling.
He was pulling away when his phone started ringing.
“I’ll take that,” she said, reaching to the bag so he wouldn’t let her hand go to get the call.
He gave her the bag, dug out his phone, saw it was Decker and took the call.
“Hey, brother, all good?”
“Yes, and maybe yes or also maybe no,” Decker answered, sounding weird.
Deke turned eyes to Jussy. “Right, tell me the yes part.”
“We found our target a couple hours ago, it just wasn’t the primary target.”
Deke felt his brows draw together. “Come again?”
“Place we were told Bianca Constantine was holing up was where she was holing up. It’s also where we found the very dead body of Brendon Caswell.”
Deke lost eye contact with Jussy as he cut his to his boots.
“Right…come again?” he growled.
Jussy moved into his space at the front, her fingers spasming around his, but he kept his gaze lowered, eyes now to her shoulder as Decker spoke.
“Caswell’s dead, man. Shithole apartment building in LA. Women’s clothes left behind, other shit too, nice shit. Designer. Expensive. Cosmetics. Some jewelry, though nothing worth a lot. Still, we found him, called the local authorities and a female detective at the scene says it’s the good stuff. They’re dusting, already ran prints. They got a lot of ’em and some of them are Bianca’s.”
“Two seconds, Deck,” Deke said into the phone and looked at Jussy. “Go hit the truck, baby. Keys in my pocket. I’ll get us coffees while I finish this call.”
“No,” she whispered, staring at his face, the happy gone from hers, and Deke felt heat hit his gut at the loss of it.
Fuck this Bianca bitch. He was that kind of man, he’d wring her goddamned neck.
He tightened his hold of her hand, drew in breath and focused on her throat.
“Back, Deck, you got more?”
“Well, if your first thought was my first thought, that Bianca heard Caswell strangling her best friend over voicemail and lost her shit during a meet and killed him, we’re wrong. Unless she acquired a professional’s skills while taking her walk on the very wild side, it was someone else. Guy was on his knees, took two slugs, bam, bam, right in the forehead. Have pictures of this girl. She’s tall, got curves, but slim, not sure how she’d get this man to his knees. He was armed, gun in his back waistband, knife in his boot. She drew on him, he’d draw back and this would have an alternate ending. Someone put the fear of God into him. He didn’t even go for his gun. Speculation but I’d say he knew who he was facing down, took direction to get on his knees, was probably hoping he could talk his way out of it, got proved wrong.”
“Well, then that’s good news and good news,” Deke remarked.
“Maybe,” Decker hedged and kept going. “Witnesses in this building say that Bianca has been around and not a week ago or days ago but a couple of folks saw her enter this apartment last night. They did not see her leave. They did see another man, well-dressed, good-looking, tall, lean, black, come in a while after Bianca. Neighbor down the hall was coming back from work, saw her open the door to him, smile at him, all friendly, real friendly, and let him in. They did not see Caswell enter and preliminary from the ME states Caswell bought it between midnight and three in the morning. No one saw either of the other two leave. No one heard gunshots.”
“So, you’re thinkin’…” Deke prompted.
But Deke knew what Deke was thinking.
She took care of her girl by finding whatever money she had to find to get a professional hitman to take care of the problem.
“Bianca Constantine either got her hands on some money or she made a very dangerous friend,” Deck said.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Deke muttered and Jussy shifted into him. He looked into her eyes and mouthed, “Second, baby.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
Decker said in his ear. “There’s more, man.”
“Give it to me,” Deke grunted, his focus on Jussy blurring.
“Shithole apartment building, not a great part of town, but the furniture in here, Deke, it’s not top of the line but it isn’t crap either. Place is neat and clean. Neighbors say she has a service come in and clean it for her and this is not the kind of building that happens so that’s been noticed. They also say a lot of other shit, loose mouths which is a surprise in this area, but not with what they’re saying. She isn’t one of them. They don’t know this because they sense it. They know this because they see it. They aren’t protecting one of their own. They’re not big fans of having a hit carried out in a neighbor’s pad, that neighbor not being one of them, so they’re giving the cops everything.”