Black Widow
Page 15

He reached into his jacket pocket, drew out his phone, and tapped on it. He turned the screen around so I could see the image he’d pulled up on it—a photo of the redheaded woman I’d killed in the storefront this morning.
In the image, Shanna Bannister was wearing a white shirt with black pants, and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. It was the same sort of outfit she’d had on when she attacked me, but her clothes and the stiff way she was standing reminded me of something, some sort of uniform . . .
And I suddenly realized exactly who she was—the maid I’d seen serving lemonade to Madeline, Emery, and Jonah yesterday at the Monroe mansion.
For whatever reason, the redheaded maid had come in here and tried to kill me. No doubt Madeline had arranged the whole thing, either by threatening Shanna in some way or promising her a rich payday if she succeeded in murdering me. But Madeline had also realized that I would more than likely take out the other woman instead, and now the acid elemental was going to trap me with my own survival. Clever.
“Recognize her?” Dobson asked. “Her employer reported her missing when she didn’t show up for work today.”
Despite the gears grinding in my mind at this revelation, I kept my face calm, stared at him, and arched an eyebrow. “And you immediately jumped to the conclusion that I murdered her?”
“Shanna Bannister was seen entering your restaurant this morning. And she never came back out.” A thin smile twisted Dobson’s face. “Given your reputation, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”
A couple of the customers gasped, but most of them started nodding their heads and muttering to each other. Everyone in the underworld knew that I was the Spider, but they weren’t the only ones. All of my staff had gotten wind of the rumors too, and the few customers who hadn’t heard the whispers hadn’t been paying attention.
“Now, don’t make me call the rest of my men in here to cart you out,” Dobson said. “Save yourself that much embarrassment.”
He gestured at the windows. I hadn’t noticed before, but four cop cars were parked on the street outside, with six more uniformed officers waiting on the sidewalk. All of the cops stared in through the glass at me, their hands on their guns, ready to storm inside and strong-arm me out of here, should I do something supremely satisfying but ultimately stupid, like cut Dobson’s throat where he stood.
But if I went outside and got into one of those cop cars, I wouldn’t ever get back out again. I knew it instinctively, the same way I knew Madeline had set this whole thing up. She hadn’t cared an iota about her maid, and when the woman hadn’t been able to kill me, Madeline had decided that having me arrested for murder would be a fun way to torture me before I died. If this hadn’t been her plan all along.
If I went with the cops, no doubt good ole Captain Lou Dobson would put a clip full of bullets in my chest on the way to the police station, claiming that I’d tried to escape. Then I would be dead and disgraced, and Madeline could get on with her plans for the Ashland underworld, whatever they might be.
“Don’t make this any harder on yourself, Blanco,” Dobson barked. “You can come along quietly . . .”
He didn’t add or else. He didn’t have to.
“If you so much as flap your hand at me again, I’m calling my lawyer and suing your sorry ass for harassment,” I snapped.
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Then you better start dialing because you are coming with me—one way or the other.”
“Actually, Gin doesn’t have to call anyone,” Silvio piped up. “I’m her lawyer, and I’m right here.”
The lean vampire hopped off his stool and moved to the end of the counter, so that he was standing beside me. With his gray suit and stiff posture, he did seem like a lawyer, right down to the superior look he shot Dobson. The giant loomed over Silvio, as though he wanted to punch the shorter man, but in the end he drew back, restraining himself, although I could see what an obvious effort it was.
Silvio glanced at me, and I raised my eyebrows in a silent question. He shrugged. I didn’t know if he was a lawyer or not, but he was willing to play the part for Dobson. My new assistant was definitely getting a raise—should I live through this.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Madeline frowning. Apparently, she’d thought that Dobson could cart me off and murder me with no problems. She hadn’t factored Silvio into her crafty calculations.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I suggest you get the hell out of my restaurant,” I said, my voice as cold as a winter night. “Before I sue you, the department, and anyone else who strikes my fancy right now.”
Dobson turned his head, as though he was going to look over his shoulder at Madeline and Emery for guidance, but he noticed me watching and caught himself. He snapped back to face me, although he took several seconds to tuck his phone away, button his suit jacket, and calm down, thinking about how to handle the situation. But apparently, he had another ace up his sleeve, because a pleased smile spread across his face.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Ms. Blanco,” Dobson said, a cheery note in his low, gravelly tone. “Because in addition to my questions, Ms. Winona Wright here is one of the chief inspectors with the Ashland Health Department, and she’s had some disturbing complaints about your restaurant.”
He gestured, and the woman with the clipboard slowly stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the pig tracks on the floor, instead of looking at me. Obviously she didn’t want to be here. I wondered how Dobson had bribed or bullied her into making an appearance. Didn’t much matter. She was about to cause problems.
“What sort of complaints?” I asked in an icy tone.
“Bugs in people’s food, roaches in the storerooms, filthy restrooms, unsafe working conditions . . .” the inspector mumbled, her voice pitching lower and softer with each supposed infraction.
Finally, she finished, and Dobson fixed his gaze on me. “So, as you can see, Ms. Wright needs to do a full inspection in order to substantiate the validity of these claims,” he crowed, knowing that he had outmaneuvered me.
Dobson brought his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle that made even Sophia wince. “Come on in, boys!” he called out.
The cops outside on the street headed toward the front door, and the invasion of the Pork Pit officially began.