Grim Ambition

  Grim Ambition

  Book One of A Grim Trilogy

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Grim Ambition (A Grim Trilogy, #1)

  Part One - Catalyst | Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Part Two - Control | Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Part Three - Chaos | Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  A sneak peek of Grim Inception, the short that started it all. | One

  Read the full story now on Amazon. Available on Kindle and in paperback.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved © 2016 Jennifer Reinfried

  Grim Ambition character art by Stephen S. Gibson

  Grim Inception character art by Evelyne Paniez

  Cover design by Meagan Weber

  Edited by D.W. Vogel, Libby Copa, Chelsea Roque

  Part One - Catalyst

  Chapter One

  The eyes of every male in the bank followed Emma McRae’s progress as she sauntered through the lobby. Pausing outside the branch manager’s office, she adjusted her tight gray dress. Last one, so help me God. She took a deep breath, turned her lips into a sultry smile, and stepped inside. Listening to the smooth wooden door click shut, she turned toward a short, moustached man, who flinched back, his eyes wide with fear.

  “Don’t worry. I’m just here for your past due payment.” Emma approached his desk.

  “I’m sorry, miss.” The man retreated to his black leather chair and sat. Avoiding her gaze, he stared at his messy desk. “Won’t happen again.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him and leaned forward, exposing more of her cleavage. “Will,” she said. “Why are you afraid of me?”

  He glanced down at his hands, clasped on the wooden surface before him. “Not you, Emma. A man came in this morning. Gave me this.” He fumbled in his desk drawer for a moment, then handed her a photograph.

  “A man?” She looked down at the picture. It was of him standing in front of a snow-covered tree with his wife and three children. All of their eyes were gouged out. Emma frowned, anger bubbling low in her chest.

  “Your boss.” Will’s voice was unsteady, his eyes unfocused. “That Alex. It was him.”

  Emma looked up. “Vance is my boss, not Alex.” She stood, photo discarded on the desk, and stepped toward him. She could feel Will’s eyes caress her figure as she approached him, lingering on the hem of her uncomfortable attire. She resisted the urge to tug it further down her thighs and positioned herself on his lap, arms around his neck.

  “You know I’d never hurt you.” Emma formed her lips into a slight pout.

  “I know.” He was rigid against her, and wouldn’t make eye contact.

  What the fuck, Alex? she thought. Your macho bullshit fucked with my progress. Again.

  “Hey, come on.” Emma wiggled her hips. “I thought we were having fun together. Don’t you like our little meetings?”

  Will finally looked at her. His moustache shifted as he smiled. “Of course I do. I just don’t appreciate threats.”

  “Ignore Alex. I promise nothing will happen to your family. All you have to do is make sure you stay on time with your payments, like you had been.”

  “I told you, I had to go to the hospital after my daughter’s accident.”

  “I know, I know.” She nuzzled the side of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Will. Alex just wants you to pay your dues for this month.”

  “But the medical bills alone—”

  “We understand. But you borrowed money from Vance. He was generous enough to let you pay it back in installments, but you knew the consequences if you defaulted.” She leaned back and flipped brunette waves over her shoulder.

  Will sighed and put his arm around her waist. “I was only able to bring half today.” He pulled a thick envelope from a briefcase near his feet.

  “Vance won’t be happy to hear—”

  “I know. I can get you the rest tomorrow before noon.” He pulled her against him, shifting in his chair.

  “Promise?” She made her voice soft and lilting.

  “Of course. For you, anything. Tell Vance I apologize. Again.”

  She leaned in and lightly kissed the corner of his mouth, trying to keep a smile on her face as his body shuddered. “I will.”

  Emma stood, and Will’s expression of lust withered. She picked up the envelope he offered, slipping it into her purse next to her freshly oiled Ruger SR45.

  “Wait,” Will said, causing her to look back at him. He stood from his chair and straightened his tie. “Are you sure nothing will happen? To my family?”

  She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course. We’re not monsters.” She winked, blew him a kiss, and exited his office.

  Emma’s heels clicked a staccato rhythm as she made her way through the pristine lobby of Bank One in the heart of downtown Redborough, Oregon. She kept her eyes forward while the cleaning crew shot hungry looks at her retreating form. Unlocking the business’ front door, Emma stepped out into the fading light of the damp September night, pulling a cell phone from her purse.

  A voice sounded in her ear after a single ring.

  “Yes?”

  “I have half of it.”

  “Why only half?”

  “He’s aware of your threats, Alex. He’ll have the rest tomorrow morning.” She slid into the driver’s seat of her SUV and started the engine. “You could have waited to send him your little gift until after my attempt.”

  “I don’t waste time playing people. He fucked up, and he needs to know what will happen if he doesn’t keep up his end of the deal.”

  “You are aware that I’ve been working Will for the last four months, right? That if it weren’t for me, he might have skipped town and you’d have lost the chance to get anything back?” Emma gripped the steering wheel tight as she drove.

  Alex ignored her. “Deliver the cut to me tonight. I’ll make sure to get it to Vance.”

  Her knuckles were nearly white. “Where?” She tried to keep the growl out of her voice.

  “He’s having a small soiree at The Blue Marlin. Meet me around back at seven thirty.” The line went dead.

  Emma kept her composure, back straight, eyes forward. She unconsciously tugged at the hem of her dress. A glance at the dashboard clock told her there was no time to change before meeting him, and she’d have to make another appearance in public dressed as a high quality hooker.

  Your job doesn’t define who you are, she told herself, as she often had while working for Ivan Vance.

  Emma’s mind drifted along her long history with Redborough’s underground crime business and her thoughts came to rest on Isaac, her closest friend for nearly a decade. Pulling up to a red light, she dialed his number.

  Three rings sounded before he answered.

  “Hey, Emma.” His smooth voice filled the truck from its speakers.

  “Hey,” she replied. “Come over tonight? I need to vent.”

  “I can, but not until later. Grant and I are cleaning a scene. Nearly done, though. Apparently Grim caught on to one of our distributors and killed him. Gotta wipe it so cops don’t find anything.”
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  “Was it a big mess? Like last time?”

  “Yep. Blood everywhere.”

  “Some superhero.” Emma flicked her turn signal on as she approached an intersection. “I thought they weren’t supposed to kill.”

  “Only in the comics, I guess.”

  “That vigilante is starting to get on my nerves.”

  “Yours and mine both. At least he’s keeping me busy.” He laughed. Emma turned a corner, her headlights illuminating alleyways in the fading light. “I should be done here within an hour.”

  Emma heard Grant’s rough voice in the background over the phone, saying something she couldn’t quite hear.

  “Okay,” Isaac said. “An hour and a half, I guess.”

  “You hungry? I can pick up some dinner, keep it warm until you’re over.”

  “Pizza. Always pizza.”

  Emma grinned. “Rosita’s it is.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “I know. See you soon.”

  Ten minutes later, Emma pulled into the Blue Marlin’s parking lot and slid her vehicle into a stall. The sleek SUV blended in with the other extravagant vehicles, and she found herself pushing down jealousy at her lack of invitation to the party.

  Whatever. I’m only good for one thing. She exited her car, purse over her shoulder, and made her way along the lot toward the river. The aroma of cooked fish mixed with the damp tang of the river, causing her to wrinkle her nose.

  “Don’t like seafood?” Alex approached her as she appeared around the back of the building.

  “I love seafood,” she said. “This river smells like shit.” Emma reached into her purse and extracted the envelope, fingers momentarily brushing the metal of her pistol.

  “Pick up the rest tomorrow.” Alex pulled the cash from her hand. He turned and began to make his way back to the front of the restaurant. “Call me when you have it.”

  “Hey.” Emma walked with him, struggling to keep up to his fast pace in her heels. “Alex.”

  “I don’t have time for discussion. My place is by Vance’s side.”

  “Just stop for a minute.”

  His steps faltered, and he glanced at her, but didn’t slow. “I’ve been away from—”

  “Dammit, listen to me!” Emma’s raised voice bounded along the waterfront, ricocheted off the building’s walls, and finally Alex stopped. He turned and regarded her, his cold, deep green eyes full of irritation.

  For a moment, she faltered, her mind recalling the latest rumor of a skinless, eyeless body dumped by the docks, who turned out to be the corpse of a man who was caught by the police moving Vance’s cocaine three times in a row. If you can’t stand up for yourself, there’s no point to this. She set her shoulders and glared at Alex. “I want better jobs.”

  “No.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You’re good at what you do. I’m not risking important work because you’re bored.”

  “Bored? Is that the word for not wanting to feel like a whore anymore?” Emma stepped closer, pouting. “Please?”

  Alex’s eyes softened for a moment, then he frowned. “Don’t try that shit on me,” he snapped. “Both Vance and I appreciate your gift for...” His eyes trailed down her body, lingering at her cleavage, then came back to her face. “Persuasion,” he finished. “But you have no other experience.”

  Don’t push it. Just accept what he says. A memory of her mother screaming jumped to her mind, but Emma forced it back into the depths. She stepped forward again, standing mere inches from Alex. Looking up at him with wide eyes, ignoring the slight disgust she felt for herself, she said, “Because you won’t let me prove myself in any other way.”

  His cold, hard expression wavered. He reached up and adjusted the dark framed glasses that perched on his nose.

  “I know you value what I do for the business.” Emma brushed her fingertips along the back of one of his manicured hands. “But I could help in other ways. You know I could.” She reveled in the sheen of desire that clouded his gaze, but his shoulders stayed set, back straight.

  He’ll break, she thought. They all do eventually.

  Alex glanced over his shoulder, the light of the moon playing off his dark brown hair and handsome face, giving him a softer look.

  “Call me tomorrow after you get the rest of Will’s payment. We can...” He took a small step away from her. “Talk then.” Alex turned away from her abruptly and disappeared into the restaurant within moments.

  “Damn right,” Emma muttered with a small grin. She walked back to her vehicle and hopped into the driver’s seat once more. She exited the parking lot and drove along Northwest Naito Parkway, considering her next move in the silence of her car.

  Emma spent the trek to Rosita’s daydreaming of being invited to Vance’s exclusive parties, next to Alex at their employer’s side. She picked up a small salad and a cheese pizza, the decadent scent of her late night dinner wafting toward her, taunting her until she pulled up to the gate of her apartment complex in the Shayanne District. She rolled her window down and waved a keycard at a small, nondescript panel, and the iron bars shifted as the gate opened.

  A loud rattle from her cup holder cut through the quiet as her phone received a message. She pulled her vehicle into an empty stall and picked up the device, squinting at the glare, eyes more accustomed to the darkness.

  The message screamed at her in all caps: CODE BLACK. MEET IN 30. PAVING.

  Emma’s stomach chilled as she read the message again. Impossible. Vance has been attacked? But he was surrounded by his own people.

  Her phone buzzed again, showing her a message from Isaac this time: Grant and I are enroute to Blue Marlin to check the scene. Please be careful at the meeting. Loop me in after.

  Worry formed in her mind, and she peeled out from her complex, tires screeching. She raced toward Paving 4 U, one of the many businesses that acted as a front for Vance’s operations. The smell of pizza, slowly growing cold, now soured her stomach as thoughts flew through her mind, trying to comprehend what could have happened. A tense dread tickled the back of her mind, but she ignored it as she drove, telling herself it was an accident; that she, along with the rest of Vance’s employees, weren’t in danger.

  —-

  Isaac placed his fingers over the cell phone in his pocket again, but it was still and silent. His mind drifted to Emma as he and Grant entered the Blue Marlin via the back door. Sounds of bustling kitchen staff preparing elegant seafood platters should have washed over him, but the restaurant was quiet in the wake of the crisis.

  Grant stepped up to a short man in a rumpled suit, wearing a look of distilled panic.

  "Officer Halpern of the RPD.” He held up his badge. "My colleague and I are here to ask a few questions, take a look around. Are you the manager?"

  "I am. Can I see his badge, too?" he asked.

  Isaac tried not to grin. No one's ever asked that, he thought with amusement.

  "Mr. Krouse is an informant for the department, not an officer. I'd appreciate it if you and I could talk somewhere private about the attack on our mutual employer." He cocked an eyebrow at the manager, whose own shot up.

  "Oh, yes, I apologize. We can speak in my office. This way."

  "See what you can find," Grant muttered to Isaac underneath his breath, then turned and followed the other man along a side hallway.

  Isaac pushed open the swinging door to the Blue Marlin's kitchen. The scent of cooked seafood wafted through the air. His stomach grumbled, sending his mind to Emma and their interrupted dinner. He frowned and touched his pocket again. She still hasn’t responded to my last few texts. Pulling out his phone, Isaac checked the screen. It remained cold and dark.

  Restaurant staff barely made eye contact with Isaac as he moved about the kitchen, whether because they knew he was with an officer investigating Vance's attack or due to the fact that his boyish looks and soft curls gave him an air of innocence and trustworthiness, he wasn't sure. He made his way past stainless
steel appliances and large, deep sinks, attempting to catch every minute detail.

  "Behind you," a gruff voice sounded. Isaac froze as a man carried an armful of dirty dishes to a nearby counter.

  "Were you back here when the attack happened?" he asked the man, his voice casual.

  Steam shot into the air as the cook began to spray hot water along the silver sides of an empty pot. "Yep."

  "Think you can tell me what you saw?"

  "Didn't see a thing. His catering company took over, brought the plates out themselves. All we did was cook the food, something they watched us do."

  "What did Mr. Vance order? Do you remember?" Isaac leaned against the counter opposite the man, arms loosely crossed.

  "Sushi. As always."

  “Did anyone watch it being made?”

  “No idea. Vance himself was busy schmoozing with a small group in the corner.”

  "Who served him? A man or a woman?"

  "Why does that matter?"

  Because I need to see if it was Grim. "We'd like to narrow down our list of suspects."

  The man grunted as he scrubbed. "Woman. But I don't remember which. That catering company only employs women, though."

  "I see," Isaac said. His heart leapt at a gentle vibration in his pocket. "Excuse me." He pulled his phone out and hurriedly unlocked the screen.

  Made it. You worry too much. Emma's text read. Pizza's cold already.

  Isaac smiled at the relief he felt. He sent her a reply, assuring her they’d warm it up when they met up after the chaos had settled, then replaced his phone. Walking around the other side of the kitchen, he glanced along his surroundings, seeking anything out of place as he attempted to stay out of the way of Blue Marlin's staff.

  He let his mind wander as he searched, and found himself thinking of how Emma's eyes sparkled whenever he made her laugh. She's single again, he told himself, then pushed the thought away. If she wanted to stay friends, he would never force anything more, even if it would cause a permanent pining in his heart. It could be perfect, though, he thought as he crouched on the floor and peered underneath sleek, white cupboards. We’d get out of this life of crime, get out of Redborough, away from Grim and all this—