See you soon.
And I wasn’t sure if that was a warning. Maybe she suspected I wasn’t going to be back at the motel, so she was letting me know she would be checking on me. I tossed my phone to the passenger seat where it landed next to my dowsing rods and the muffin wrapper.
Before I went to investigate the Sweet Pea Nursery I needed to be sure I couldn’t be identified. I climbed out of the vehicle and walked down the dark path to the lake, where I scooped up handfuls of clay-like muck which I used to smudge the license plates. I’d seen for myself that the nursery buildings had video surveillance. These cartel guys could easily have connections that could trace my plate back to the rental company and then to me. If they had Garrett, that would put him in more danger. I rinsed the dirt off my hands off using a water bottle and wiped them dry on my jeans.
Wookie stirred in the back seat, sitting up and looking around as I started the engine and began to drive along the rutted gravel road that led out of the wooded area and onto the main road. After we’d driven a mile, Wookie settled back down, curling up onto the blanket on the back seat. As he softly snored I again picked up my Mariners cap and tucked my hair up inside. It was too dark for sunglasses but as we neared the Sweet Pea Nursery I pulled the brim of my hat down low and grabbed a bandana from my backpack. I tied the scarf around my face so that the only part of me visible were my eyes.
The large steel warehouses of the nursery loomed dark and foreboding in the night as I turned off to approach them from the main road. The front parking lot was completely empty. Staff and customers were long gone and tucked into their beds for the night. I drove around back to the massive paved lot that semitrucks must use for loading and transporting apples picked in the surrounding orchards. In the far corner of the lot was a single tractor trailer next to a massive pile of wood pallets. Behind the trailer and pallets was a long equipment shed. There were security lights and cameras in all the truck bays and worker entrances.
Wanting to keep my vehicle out of the view of the cameras as much as possible, I pulled my car behind the shed and angled it just enough so that I could get a view of the buildings but be out of range of the cameras. I killed my motor and familiarized myself with the area.
This was the loading area and no doubt these massive warehouses were filled with apples from the surrounding orchards and machinery to maintain the groves. Given that the nursery was owned by the Flores Cartel, there was a good chance the warehouses were also used to store heroin. I assumed the FBI had already figured that out.
The first thing that struck me was the sheer amount of security here. Every rollup door had at least two cameras. Each building also had an entrance door for employees on the side and, again, there were cameras. This was a place of business and so, of course, there’d be security but there weren’t rogue apple pirates randomly breaking down the doors and stealing the crops. This was all about Mateo Flores and the drug cartel.
“Now what?”
I stared at the buildings and nervously chewed my lower lip. Suddenly I felt uncertain. I didn’t have any tools with me that would help me break into one of these steel warehouses. The employee doors on the sides looked solid as well. My own Jeep had a basic tool kit in the trunk that was now melted but I doubt I’d have much more than a jack in the back of this rental. I had a handgun in the backpack but I didn’t want to use all my bullets shooting off a lock.
The equipment shed I was parked beside would have tools and it probably wouldn’t be alarmed. There was a chance I could break the window of the shed and climb inside to get whatever tool I might need to pry open a steel door. It had small windows that might allow me to be able to see inside. Maybe if I busted the window I could even boost myself up and inside.
“What are you, a gymnast now?” I murmured discouragingly.
I had to try. I had no choice. I might find information regarding Garrett. Hell, he might even be inside one of these buildings. The thought made my throat go dry. He’d rescued me a number of times and he would never back down from a challenge if he thought I was in danger. It was my turn.
I had my hand on the door to my SUV about to open it when a convoy of vehicles sped into the lot and pulled up behind the buildings. I doubted I could be visible from where my car was located, but still I sank lower in my seat while keeping my head high enough to see. There were three dark high-end sedans—a black Escalade and a couple of BMWs—as well as one beat-up-looking black Honda Civic. I covered my mouth and gasped. The Civic was the car I’d seen at the motel.
I leaned forward with my eyes just above my dash. Men climbed out of the cars and when their doors slammed, Wookie growled low in his throat. I quickly ordered him to be quiet. I didn’t need his growl to rev up to a bark and give away my position. As the men gathered outside their vehicles, I recognized one of the men immediately as Mateo Flores. All the men had their jackets wide open to reveal they were carrying handguns. La Araña, the stocky guy who visited my motel, had his gun in his hand and at the ready.
My hands grew slick with nervous sweat as Flores and La Araña entered the building while the other two men stood guard outside. There was no way I could approach the building without getting shot. I pulled the brim of my hat lower and pulled the scarf once again up over my face. It felt like forever before the doors to the building reopened. La Araña was exiting the building with a man held at gunpoint. When they stepped closer, I saw the man’s hands were tied behind his back. They opened the door to one of the BMWs and, as they shoved him roughly into the back seat, the light in the car briefly illuminated the man’s face. It was Garrett’s brother-in-law, Sid Klein.
“Shit!”
The BMW started up and its headlights illuminated the building just as the door of the building opened again. Mateo Flores was coming out, and ahead of him was another man with hands tied behind his back. As they stepped up to the Escalade the head lamps shone brightly on them.
Terror breathed ice down the back of my neck. It was Garrett.
Chapter Twelve
I watched in horror as Garrett was roughly shoved up against the Escalade, a large handgun pointed between his shoulder blades. At one point he turned and said something to Flores, and one of the bodyguards punched him hard in the stomach.
I bit my knuckle to stop from screaming. Even though I wanted to grab the gun from my pack, take aim and shoot Flores from across the parking lot, I was too far to get a good shot. I’d miss, and before I knew it, I’d be surrounded by four men with guns. As much as I wanted to jump out of my car and run to protect Garrett, I was no match for these thugs and we’d both end up dead.
Doubled over in pain, Garrett was forced into the back of the Escalade and soon all four vehicles were speeding out of the lot.
There was no way I could risk losing sight of where they were taking him. I waited only a few seconds before I fired up my SUV and rocketed after them. By the time I was on the road, the taillights of the other vehicles were far ahead of me. I kept back as far as I could without losing them, hoping not to draw their attention. My hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel as I followed them mile after mile toward Seattle. The city was at least a couple hours away.
I comforted myself by saying if they were going to kill Garrett and Sid, they could’ve done it more easily in the apple orchards or even behind those nursery buildings. There had to be a purpose for keeping both men alive until now and taking them toward the city.
After an hour it was getting more and more difficult to maintain a discreet distance and not lose the cars. Luckily there weren’t many other vehicles on the road at this time of night but occasionally I allowed another car between myself and the evil convoy so as not to arouse suspicion. As we got closer to the more heavily populated areas, more cars were on the road even though it wasn’t even two in the morning.
The stress of driving and the raging thoughts in my head caused my shoulders to ache
with tension. Should I call the police? Agent Karla Powel? There was no way I could tackle this alone. I made up my mind that as soon as these vehicles arrived at their destination, I would call for help.
“As soon as I see where they’re taking them, I’m going to call Agent Powel and she can send active agents to rescue them.” I spoke between clenched teeth as my eyes burned with fatigue.
The beat-up Honda driven by La Araña abruptly slowed and, before I knew it, I was coming up behind him fast. I hit the brakes so that I could match his speed, but I was only a few yards behind him by the time I reacted. The driver leaned out of his window, pointed a gun in my direction, and multiple shots punched holes in my windshield and whistled past my head.
I braked and yanked on the steering wheel, causing the vehicle to overreact. Next thing I knew I was in the ditch and my vehicle was on its side and Wookie was howling.
Frantically, I scrambled to unbuckle my belt and climb out of the vehicle. I was convinced that the shooter had stopped and was going to join me in the ditch to finish me off. However, out of the car I could see all four vehicles rocketing down the road, their taillights disappearing in the distance.
“Damn!” I screamed into the wind and slammed my fist onto the vehicle.
Wookie was frantically barking in the back seat and, with the vehicle on its side, it took me a few minutes to release him. He leaped from the car and bounded around the tall grass in the ditch, obviously unhurt. I sat down in the damp weeds and sobbed into my hands. Seconds later a passing motorist spied me, pulled over and came to offer her help.
“You fall asleep at the wheel, or are you drunk?” the young woman asked, obviously not noticing the bullet holes in the windshield.
“Guess I dozed off,” I admitted.
“Want me to call a wrecker?” she asked, absently rubbing Wookie’s head when he came to greet her.
“I can do that if you wouldn’t mind driving me to the nearest town?”
She hesitated, obviously weighing what she’d always been told about picking up wannabe serial killer hitchhikers.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks for your trouble,” I offered.
She quickly agreed. Together we hauled Wookie and all my belongings from the banged-up SUV. I had to scramble back inside to gather up my backpack from the passenger seat, pushing around inflated airbags to gather my dowsing rods and other supplies that had scattered onto the floor. The gun had rolled out of my pack and I gently tucked it back inside.
Fifteen minutes later I handed the girl fifty dollars after she helped bring my things out of her car and place them at the door of a roadside hotel. All I could think about was Garrett being dragged off to who knows where by those criminals. The last thing I wanted was to get a room at a hotel instead of following them, but I had no car and they were long gone. I needed to make a new plan.
Luckily the hotel had a dog-friendly room available on the main floor and soon Wookie was curled up on the queen-sized bed looking comfortable. I called the rental company and told them there’d been an accident with the SUV. After giving them information on where to find it, I cracked open my laptop and did more research on Flores. I needed to know the enemy.
When I tried to find a connection between Sweet Pea Nursery and Flash Imports, one name came up: a woman by the name of Josephine. The woman’s name showed up as working at the nursery and as a consultant at Flash Imports. A little more research and I found a Josephine listed as a friend of Sid’s on social media. However, her profile picture was a cat and I couldn’t find any pictures of the woman’s face. On Sid’s page he’d mentioned her often but, again, no pictures. Whoever this woman was, there was a good chance she was the person who connected Sid Klein and Jerry Mayer to the cartel. Maybe she was the one who’d enlisted them into working to help Flores’s gang smuggle the drugs into Washington.
My body ached from the vehicle accident. A final internet search showed there was a car rental company a mile from the motel, but it didn’t open until eight in the morning. I’d be there as soon as it opened. I took a scalding hot shower and then crawled under the blankets with Wookie.
“Garrett, please be safe,” I cried into my pillow. “I can’t lose you. I just can’t.”
I fell asleep, my fingers gripped around my dad’s wedding ring on the chain around my neck. I woke with a start as the sun pierced the drapes. Snatching up my phone I realized it was nearly seven-thirty. I filled Wookie’s bowls and dressed while he ate. Then I took him for a quick run around the outside of the building before locking him in back in the hotel room and hanging up the Do Not Disturb sign.
“I won’t be long,” I told him, but he was already stretched out on the bed. He was adjusting much better than I was to this vagabond lifestyle.
With my hat on my head and my scarf around my neck, I grabbed a coffee in the lobby and set out to walk over to the car rental place a mile away. With every step I took I rehashed all that I knew so far. I was convinced that somewhere in my head lay the key to where Garrett might be stashed but I couldn’t seem to unlock that knowledge.
With all the recent expenses I was hoping my credit card wasn’t maxed out, but everything seemed to go through without a hitch. The old man working the car rentals could only offer me a compact car. At this point I really didn’t care because I’d formulated a plan.
As soon as I was inside the car I called Tracey’s number.
“He-e-ey. Don’t tell me you two love birds are done with your vacay already? I didn’t expect to hear from you for days, girlfriend.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
At the seriousness in my tone her demeanor immediately changed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Are you working today?”
“I was just about to head to work now,” she replied.
“Call in sick,” I told her.
“Done.”
I took a deep breath and explained exactly what I needed her to do. When I arrived back at the hotel I made my way into the breakfast room and put together a tray of food from the offerings included with my stay. I grabbed another coffee as well and brought the works back to my room. Wookie yawned and stretched when I opened the door.
“You’re getting lazy,” I told him.
He wagged his little Rottweiler nub of a tail.
“I’m joking.” I patted his head. “You’re a good boy.”
His entire body wiggled then because maybe being a “good boy” meant he’d get some of the bacon off my plate. He was right. At first, I had no appetite but the minute I started to eat I became ravenous and was considering going back to the breakfast room for more when there was a knock at the room door. Wookie growled at the sound. I got up and glanced through the peephole and when I opened the door wide Wookie barked in delight at the sight of Tracey.
“Bed,” I told Wookie and he reluctantly jumped onto the hotel bed instead of going over to greet Tracey like he wanted.
She grabbed me in a big hug.
“Tell me everything,” she said, walking over to the corner table and taking a seat.
“First, do you have it?” I asked nervously.
She nodded, pulled a velvet jewelry box from her purse and handed it to me.
I popped it open and stared at the emerald-and-diamond wedding ring that had belonged to Garrett’s deceased wife, Faith. Licking my lips nervously, I snapped the box shut again and put it aside on the table.
“Yeah, when I got to your place I had to get past your nosy neighbor first. Even though you sent him a text telling him I was coming by to get a ring I’d loaned you, he still made me show ID and everything. Who made him the king of the world? Look at me! Do I look like I’m capable of doing a B&E?” She pointed to her braced knee and indignantly blew a strand of hair out of her face. “He followed me around, watching me get the ring from the closet. This was the hard part because I seriously
thought the man would not let me use the bathroom alone.” She pulled a revolver out of her purse, holding it gingerly like it might explode at any second, and gently placed it on the table. “Who the hell keeps a handgun at the bottom of a box of maxipads!” She shook her head. “I guess we know who the hell does that—it’s you!” She pointed a finger in my face. “Now tell me the truth. Where’s Garrett? Why the hell are you bunking in the middle of bloody nowhere? Why do you want his dead wife’s ring? And a gun? What’s going on? Oh my God, did you guys break up? Are you going to shoot him? Don’t do it! No man is worth the jail time.”
I put up my hands to stop her ranting. “That gun is for you. I already have one here for me.”
“What?” She shook her head. “Nope. No way.”
“I want you to have it, just in case...”
“What the hell is going on?”
“I didn’t tell you the truth. I told you Garrett was home and that everything was great, and we were going off to spend time together but that was all a lie.”
Hurt spread across her face and was gone as Tracey folded her hands neatly on her lap and waited.
“I wanted to keep you safe.” I explained to her about Flores’s henchman La Araña showing up at the motel and about how I’d gone on the run after Garrett’s message to trust no one. When I got to the part about sneaking around at the nursery only to discover Garrett and Sid being led away at gunpoint, Tracey’s eyes grew big. When I told her about my new rental car being shot up and how I ended up at this motel, she gasped and grabbed my hands.
“Stop! Shit, this is bigger than you can handle. It’s way bigger than your FBI agent boyfriend can handle, so you know it’s way above your pay scale, got it?” She pulled out her phone. “We’re calling the cops and telling them everything.”
“No!” I snatched her phone from her hand and dropped it on the table next to the gun. Wookie raised his head from his paws curiously and then returned to a relaxed position as I lowered my voice. “When Garrett told me not to trust anybody he didn’t say ‘only trust the cops’ or ‘only trust the FBI.’ He wouldn’t have written that warning unless he believed I was truly on my own with this.”
A Grave Peril Page 17
