by LENA DIAZ,
Shannon swallowed hard and clicked the seat belt into place.
“Where did they turn? Where?” Adam demanded.
“Just up ahead, past that white house. There!”
He careened around the corner without even slowing down.
The white van was in front of them now, a good sixty or so yards ahead. But it was a narrow residential street with lots of parked cars. Adam couldn’t let the Charger go full speed without risking hitting a car or running someone down if they happened to step into the road.
He tossed his phone in the console and told Shannon his passcode. “Hit the favorites button. My boss is the first number, Yeong Lee. Tell him I need backup, to get Gatlinburg PD to try to cut the van off ahead of us.”
She grabbed the phone. The van turned again. “It just turned—”
“Right. Got it. Make the call.”
Her skin itched and her fingers shook as she did as Adam had directed. Calling the police for help went against everything in her experience. She’d called them for help when she was much younger. Instead of believing her, instead of helping her, they’d slapped her in handcuffs and put her in jail. But she knew she was no match for the men in that van. Ian needed help, real help, not her.
She pitched the phone into the console. “He said he’d direct Gatlinburg PD to this area, and to call him back as soon as we have a location.”
Several hair-raising turns later she straightened in her seat. The van made another right turn, so far ahead of them they could barely see it.
“We’re losing them,” Adam snarled. “These dang streets. Why do people park all over the road?” He dodged several cars, sped ahead, then had to bump up into a front yard to avoid an oncoming car. With so many parked cars it was like going down a one-way road, the wrong way.
They rounded a corner. There was no sign of the van.
Adam cursed and slowed, looking down each side street.
Shannon thought about the various turns the van had made. “Adam, speed up. Head to the third street on the right.”
“You saw them?” He floored the gas and a few seconds later they raced around the corner onto the next street. “I don’t see the van. You sure you saw them?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t see them. But I know where they’re going.”
Chapter Eight
When the van finally pulled to a stop and the door slid open, Ian breathed a sigh of relief that he was still alive. That relief disappeared when he looked around and realized they were in his garage. That must have been why Jack insisted on taking his car keys at the hospital. He must have retrieved the garage remote control, planning to come here since Wolverine knew this was where mechanic Ian Savage lived. If Shannon was in her side of the duplex right now, then she was in a world of danger. If she came over, Butch’s henchmen would eliminate her as a potential witness to whatever they had planned for Ian.
Please don’t be home, Shannon. Please be safe somewhere else.
Butch appeared in front of the van’s open sliding door, tossed the garage door opener and car key to the concrete floor and grinned. “Home sweet home, eh, cop?”
A spark of alarm shot through him, but he rolled his eyes. “I’m the furthest thing from a cop you can get. Are you thinking that Gatlinburg PD saw my black-and-blond hair and my tattoos and thought I’d fit right in?” He snorted. “Yep, that’s it. They rushed right over to sign me up. Get real, man. What is this? A shakedown to see whether I’m legit?” He gave Jagger and Axel disgusted looks, trying not to sweat over them both aiming long guns at him from opposite sides of the van’s interior. “My buyers aren’t going to be happy with the delay because of your grandstanding.”
Butch braced both hands on the open doorway. “I recognized that guy from the truck stop. He’s a cop from Memphis. And you know what? You sure do look an awful lot like him.”
“Really? That’s why you’re accusing me of being a pig? Because I look like another one? That’s just messed up.” He motioned toward the thug he’d likened to Captain Jack Sparrow. “This guy could be a stunt double for Johnny Depp. Why’s he here with you instead of soaking in a pool in Hollywood with his brother Johnny?”
Butch frowned. “You said that cop slept with your girlfriend. You may not like each other, but he called you by name. And I happen to know he’s one of them McKenzies, that family of law enforcement brothers. What’s their dad’s name? The Mighty McKenzie or something like that? He used to run this town, and his sons are all in law enforcement. Coincidentally, I heard one of them is named Ian. I figure you’re either a cop or a special agent of some kind, McKenzie.”
Ian bluffed like he’d never bluffed before, like his life depended on it—which it did.
“McKenzie?” He rolled his eyes again. “Dude, those guys are rich. Some wealthy grandpappy passed down a dozen companies to those spoiled jerks.” He motioned to the garage. “You think even if I wanted to be a cop like those guys that I’d be living in this dump if I had millions in the bank? You’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind.”
Butch narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but he looked less certain than before. “If you ain’t one of ’em, how do you know that Adam guy?”
Ian snorted. “He was at a party along with me and dozens of other people last summer. Other than being introduced when I came in, that was it. Except for the fact that I saw him making out with my girl in the kitchen. I was too ticked off to do anything that night. I left the party, and my girl. Next time I saw him was at the truck stop. Heck, you know more about him than I do. I didn’t even remember his name. Probably the only reason he remembers mine is because my ex-girlfriend cries out my name every time he screws her.”
Blade surprised him by laughing. He sobered when Butch shot him an aggravated look.
Butch gestured toward Ian. “That’s why he knew your name? A party?”
“A party with dozens of other people. Hell, man. We were all there for the same reason—good food, free booze and hot chicks. You tellin’ me you know everyone who shows up at parties? Get real.”
Continuing his bluff, he shoved Butch out of his way and hopped down from the van. The garage walls seemed to bow in and out, making him dizzy. He covered it by leaning down and scooping up the garage door opener and car key. He immediately regretted the movement when his ribs sent a slice of burning pain lancing through him. He took shallow breaths and shoved the opener into his pocket, all the while trying not to wince or reveal how dizzy he was. Showing weakness around these types of men could be fatal. He casually leaned against the side of the van as if he had no worries in the world while he waited for the garage to stop spinning around him.
“You about done with the twenty questions?” he demanded. “Or are we done here?”
Butch exchanged a long look with his men, but didn’t say anything.
Hoping he’d be able to walk without falling, Ian pushed away from the van. “Thanks for the ride home, boys. But unless you want to pick up where we left off and let me place an order, I’d just as soon you get your butts out of my garage. Heck, even if you do want to take an order, forget it. I’m too disgusted to even want to do business with you. I’ll find a shipment somewhere else.” He took a step toward the door to the house.
“Hold it. Let’s not be too hasty here. Maybe I jumped to some conclusions and shouldn’t have.”
“You think?” Ian stalked to the door that led into the duplex, mainly because he desperately needed to hold on to the railing to keep from falling down.
“Ian, wait.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh and turned, still clutching the railing. “Unless you’re giving me back my .357 that your guys stole from me in the van, we’ve got nothing left to discuss.”
“It’s a nice gun. I’ll have to think about that.”
Ian turned around.
“Hold up.”
He s
lowly faced Butch again, forced to let go of the railing. Thankfully, the dizziness was fading now. “What?”
Butch motioned to his men, and they drew their guns back inside the van. Ian was careful not to let his relief show on his face.
Butch stopped in front of him and held up the stack of pictures he’d had earlier. But before Ian could reach for them, Butch shoved them back into his jacket pocket. “I’m not saying I’m willing to trust you just yet. But I’m on the fence enough not to blow your head off.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“The point is that I’m going to give it a few days, think on this. And if I decide you truly aren’t messing with me, I’ll be in touch.”
Ian shook his head. “You want to deal with me, a few days won’t cut it. My guy wants a shipment to take with him out of the country in the next twenty-four hours. I don’t have two days. I’ll have to get my girls somewhere else.” He motioned toward the street out front. “Go on. Get out of my garage.”
The two of them stood toe to toe, each one trying to read the other. Ian hoped he wasn’t overplaying his hand. Reading people was his thing, and he sensed that Butch wanted to make a deal. Maybe he was having trouble moving inventory and didn’t have enough buyers at the ready. Ian was walking a fine line so he wouldn’t seem overeager. And yet he needed to keep this creep interested, or the poor women and girls he had would end up being sold to someone else, someone who wasn’t interested in helping them, or saving them.
“Tell you what, Savage.” He threw out a price. “You pay that, and I’ll give you every girl I got. This town’s getting way too hot, and I’m ready to move on. What do you say?”
Ian sighed as if bored, and took a chance, knowing it might be his last. “What about the two Latinas you mentioned at the truck stop? I’ve gone to way too much trouble not to get something for myself out of all this. That is, if they’re as sexy as you claim.”
“All my girls are top choice,” Butch snarled as if insulted. “But these Spanish chicks are older, like I told you. That a problem?”
“Depends. You got pictures?”
Butch pulled out his cell phone. “Not printed up. They pretty much cater to me and the boys. I hadn’t planned on letting them go. But a change might not be bad, something fresh.” He grinned.
Ian kept his expression carefully blank as he fantasized about wrapping his fingers around Butch’s throat and squeezing.
Butch turned the phone around. “What do you think? Pretty enough for you?”
Ian’s breath caught. Finally, after all this time. There she was: Maria. Had to be. The lighting in the picture was terrible. All he could see of their features were dark eyes and dark hair. But there was no mistaking the pink butterfly tattoo on the right side of one of the women’s necks, just as Shannon had described.
Ian shrugged, acting as nonchalant as he could manage. “They’ll do. And the price is good. You’ve got a deal. I’ll need some time to get the money from my buyer and arrange a truck for transport.” And get both Homeland Security agents and local law enforcement in place for a takedown. “We can meet back at the truck stop at one in the morning. That work for you?”
Butch shook his head. “Too much heat there right now. Wolverine will be in touch with the details. Tomorrow.”
That was cutting far too close to the forty-eight-hour window his boss, Nash, had given him before pulling the plug on the investigation. “I told you my buyer’s in a hurry.”
“Tomorrow or no deal. I’m not a hundred percent believing everything you’ve told me. I need to make sure you’re on the up-and-up. Wolverine will contact you at your shop, like always. That’s the deal.”
Ian didn’t have to fake his frown. He wasn’t happy with the delay, especially with Butch wanting to check his cover. It was solid, had stood up under heavy scrutiny so far. But no one had ever made the connection between Ian Savage and Ian McKenzie before either. Had he changed his appearance enough to fool anyone who might remember him from his high school days? He’d kept his visits to Gatlinburg centered around his family’s cabin, never venturing into town as Ian McKenzie. Had he made a mistake somewhere? Was there anyone who knew his real identity aside from his family and Shannon?
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just keep in mind that my buyer is a powerful, unforgiving man. If he expects a delivery, and you don’t show, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”
Butch narrowed his eyes. “And if you’re actually Ian McKenzie, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes either.” He clicked his thumb and forefinger at Ian as if he was pulling a trigger. Then he laughed and headed for the van.
Ian shot him the bird and then unlocked the door to the house. He went inside, slamming it behind him. Resisting the urge to flip the dead bolt, which the others would hear and assume he was worried about them, he left the door unlocked. He reached above one of the kitchen cabinets and took down the loaded shotgun he kept concealed there. Then he stood off to the side, aiming it at the door.
Seconds ticked by. A full minute. The van’s engine started. A few seconds later, tires squealed as the van raced down the driveway. He yanked open the door, aiming his shotgun into the garage. Empty. No one was lying in wait. Butch and his thugs were gone.
He let out a deep breath before pressing the panel on the wall to close the garage door. This time, when he went inside the house, he flipped the dead bolt. He was reaching up to stow the shotgun when a shadow moved off to his right. He spun around.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s me, Adam.” A hand shoved his gun up toward the ceiling.
The lights flipped on. His brother stood a few feet away. Behind him, off to the side with her hand on the light switch, was Shannon.
Ian tucked the gun back above the cabinet. “What the hell, Adam? I could have killed you. And what are you doing here, Shannon?”
She stiffened. “We were saving you. Adam saw me in the parking lot at the hospital right after those guys abducted you. He drove me here so we could keep you from getting killed.”
He speared his brother with a look of disgust. “You drove her here, knowing those guys were with me? You put her smack in the middle of danger.”
“Kind of like you did at the truck stop?”
Ian took a menacing step toward his brother.
Adam raised his hands in surrender. “She was coming after you with or without me. I came along to keep her safe and help you. Instead of yelling at us, you should thank us. No telling what would have happened if she hadn’t jumped in your car to rescue you. We scared those guys off.”
Ian’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you scared them off?” He looked toward the front windows. Red and blue lights flashed against the blinds. “You called the cops?”
Adam put his hands on his hips. “Well, of course I called the police. I figure those thugs saw the lights coming up the street and that’s why they left. If I hadn’t called the cops, those jerks would have stormed your house and filled you with bullet holes by now. What’s your problem? Do you have to turn everything into a fight?”
“I’m trying to maintain my cover, no thanks to you. I had those guys ninety-nine percent convinced there’s no connection between you and me, even though they recognized you as a cop. If they saw you come inside—”
“They didn’t. We parked on a side street and came in through Shannon’s half of the duplex, the door in the hall closet you two use for going back and forth.”
The door Ian had put in when they’d begun their odd working relationship. A door they’d used more and more often, far too regularly to justify it as just because of their mutual desire to find Maria. The look on Adam’s face said he suspected as much.
Ian didn’t care what he thought. What he cared about was that Shannon had been placed in danger, and whether his whole case was now ruined. He’d been so close. Would this destroy the deal he’d just made? He would have sa
id as much, but the disappointment on Shannon’s face had him biting back his harsh words.
“Look, I appreciate that you were trying to help. Both of you. I honestly do. But I was negotiating with Butch, setting up a—”
A loud knock sounded on the front door. “Gatlinburg Police.”
“Great.” Ian shook his head. “The only way I’m getting out of this with my cover intact is if they arrest me. For something.” He gave his brother a baleful look. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I punch you when they bust down the door?”
Adam narrowed his eyes in warning.
“Yeah. Didn’t think so.”
“Police! Open up!” Loud knocks sounded on the door.
“Go on.” Ian motioned toward the hall. “You two get back to the other side of the duplex. I’ll think of something. And, Adam, don’t go to the jail to bail me out. That would ruin everything. Can you just let my boss know what’s going on? Please? He’ll get me out without blowing my cover.”
Adam gave him a curt nod, then urged Shannon to the hallway. They disappeared into the closet.
The police were kicking the front door now. It was a cheap door. No need for a battering ram. It wouldn’t hold much longer. Ian turned, desperately looking for something that would get him locked up, hopefully without getting shot. Then he remembered the weed he’d taken from some punks a few days ago to keep them from selling it to neighborhood kids. He’d come into the garage and tossed it in a kitchen drawer, intending to get rid of it later and never had.
He yanked open a kitchen drawer, grabbed the baggie and tossed it onto the countertop in front of him just as the door crashed open and slammed against the wall.
“Freeze!” Two cops pointed their pistols at him.
He slowly raised his hands.
Chapter Nine
Shannon snapped the lid closed on her tattered suitcase. But instead of picking it up, she plopped down onto the bed beside it. The eggs and toast she’d eaten for breakfast sat like lead in her stomach. Worry and anger and despair were tearing her apart, physically and emotionally. Should she stay or should she go? The answer seemed to be eluding her.
