“They found something in her car?”
“No. That’s just it. According to Sarge, that’s not Patrice’s car.”
Understanding worked its way through Nick’s brain. “That’s the killer’s car?”
“Darn good chance of it. Sarge is getting a list of every silver Rolls registered in the state. Might come up with something interesting.”
“Sarge was right,” he said, giving credit where it was due. “It’s not Peter or Rod. Neither one of them own a Rolls.” He’d been so sure it had been one, or both, of them. Unanswered questions were all he had now. And a fear they might stay that way. He tore his gaze away from the computer screen and looked back at Danny. “Looks like you’re going to be staking out Coral Gables PD. I want to know the minute they get a lead on that car.”
“Not a problem, amigo. Better than that, I’ve got Sarge’s word I’m the first one she calls if she makes an arrest.”
“You did?” He thought this over for a minute. “You think she’ll keep her word?”
“She’s a cop. Don’t think she knows how to do it any other way.”
“You could be right. Do me a favor and keep tabs on things over there anyhow.”
“You got it, boss.”
Nick left and went back to his office. Danny didn’t know where Jamie was. That bothered him. The silver Rolls bothered him, too. Who did he know who drove a silver Rolls? The answer was hiding in his brain somewhere, if he could just dig it out. The phone rang and his first thought was Jamie. He picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Nick, it’s Jamie.”
Thank God. Something was wrong though. She didn’t sound right. “Jamie, are you okay?”
“No.” Fear ratcheted her voice. “Nick, they’re going to kill me. Please help!”
Every muscle in his body clenched. He tasted his fear as strongly as he felt it. “Jamie, where are you?”
The line went dead. His first impulse was to call the police. And tell them…what? The phone number had been listed as “unavailable” on his Caller ID. He set down the receiver, his emotions steamrolling into one another like a runaway locomotive. Fear, followed by confusion, and then anger. The killer would not take Jamie from him, too. He would not lose another person he loved.
Love. He thought the word and knew at once it was true. He’d been falling a little in love with her every day since Janelle died. Until it became an inescapable truth. He loved Jamie. And now he might lose her. Fury poured hot and fierce into his veins, like someone had lit a match inside him. He would not lose her, too. The killer would not win. Not this time.
The phone rang again, and he picked it up before the end of the first ring. “Hello.”
“Hey, Nick. What’s shaking? Glad to see the little lady’s safety actually concerns you.”
“D-bag.” The goddamn piece of shit had the nerve to laugh. “You lay one hand on her and I’ll finish what we almost started the day we met.” Nick’s free hand balled into a fist. The son-of-a-bitch would be lucky if he stopped with beating him half to death.
“Is that right?” Cold arrogance came with D-bag’s words. “As much as I’d love to see you try, you and me got other business to discuss.”
“We don’t have anything to discuss except you letting Jamie go. Unharmed.” He stressed the word, his breath coming hard and angry. “Before I find you and bust your fucking head open.”
“You want to see the little lady alive again, you better watch your mouth. I told you. We got business to discuss, and we ain’t gonna do it over the fucking phone. Now, what you’re gonna do, you’re gonna take yourself a drive out to Key Largo. And, just so you know, anyone but you shows up, she’s dead.”
The scumbag rattled off an address. Nick wrote it down, half-listening, half picturing himself beating the asshole to a bloody pulp. He tucked the slip of paper into his shirt pocket, and wrote the address down again, this time with a note to Danny, telling him to call the police and follow him there in half an hour. That should give him enough time to convince D-bag he’d come alone, and with any luck, save Jamie before police intervention became necessary. Tossing the note into Danny’s inbox, he left without another word, thinking only of how to save the woman he loved.
Chapter 67
Driving to Key Largo, Nick’s mind accelerated faster than his speedometer. He had a gun in the glove compartment. A Smith & Wesson .38 special he’d bought a year ago. His work occasionally took him to some seedier parts of town, and at the time he’d been doing an exposé for Just the Facts on the bust of a local drug cartel. Janelle had complained about it. Said there was a bigger chance of him losing the weapon to a crook and getting shot with it himself, but he’d taken lessons at the shooting range. Shot there every week until he could pop a hole in the center of the paper target from twenty-five yards away. Figured if he needed to get any better than that, he might as well join the police department.
Today, he was glad he’d held his ground. A gun might prove useful for dealing with a low-life like D-bag. He’d have to take the asshole by surprise. Park down the street from the address he’d been given. Find a way to sneak up on him.
One thing still bothered him though. The silver Rolls. How the hell did it figure into things? If it figured into things. No way a thug like D-bag had a car like that stashed someplace. So if the driver of the Rolls was involved, then D-bag wasn’t working alone. And that was a scarier proposition than dealing with a low man on the evolutionary ladder like D-bag. He was too ignorant and burned out with drugs and alcohol to pull off a kidnapping on his own. A smarter adversary might pose a bigger threat.
Nick reached the road to the address he’d been given, and looked around. The road was little more than a dirt path, and scarred with ruts. And not a house in sight. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, confused, re-checking the piece of paper he’d tucked into his shirt pocket. He had the street right, but there was nothing on this road. At least nothing in the way of a building with numbers on it. Trees, sure. A few birds, insects, some woodland creatures and a plume of dust kicked up on the road by his car. But not a single structure in need of an address.
Too late, the flash of silver in his rearview mirror caught his eye. By the time he turned around to look behind him, the car was already disappearing back up the road, in the direction he’d just come from.
“Shit!” Where the hell had the car come from? The question occurred to him as the sound of his passenger side door opening caught his attention.
“Hey, Nick. Good to see you could make it.” D-bag smiled at him, his Glock aimed at Nick’s head. “Don’t even think about doing anything but driving. I’ll let you know where.”
Chapter 68
“Mr. Ventura, you’re back. And so soon after leaving.” Sarge stood to greet the reporter who’d already spent an hour camped out at the precinct, waiting for details from the State’s motor vehicle check. Damn man was like a bloodhound. Once he sniffed the scent of something he found interesting, he didn’t let go. No wonder he was such a good reporter. “Didn’t I already promise you I’d let you know the minute we had something on the Rolls?”
He continued standing, staring at her with probing brown eyes. “That was an hour ago. And anyway, I think we may have something new to worry about.”
Because clearly she needed more things to worry about. “Care to elaborate?”
“This should tell you what you need to know.” He fished a crumpled piece of paper from the front pocket of his jeans and handed it to her.
D-bag has Jamie. Gone to 23905 Mangrove Creek Road. Key Largo. Wait 30 minutes and call the police. Nick.
“That’s it?”
He threw his hands up in the air. “That’s all he wrote.”
Nodding, she smoothed the paper out on her desk. “You try calling him?”
“Three times. He’s not picking up.”
“Great.” Frustration clipped her voice. “How long ago did you say he left?”
“I found t
hat…” He gestured at the note now sitting on her desk. “…in my in-box waiting for me when I got back to the office. Candi says he left about two hours ago.”
“I’m guessing his meeting with this D-bag character didn’t go so well.”
“That would be my guess, too.”
Her days just kept getting better and better. She slapped down on the intercom buzzer on her desk. “Sanchez?”
“Yes, Sarge?”
“Pull my car around, will you? I’m taking a drive out to Key Largo. Call and arrange to have Monroe County PD meet me out there.”
“Sure thing, Sarge.”
Danny held her office door open and followed behind her. When he continued to follow instead of exiting the building, she turned around. “What are you hanging around for, Mr. Ventura?”
“Me?” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I plan on coming with you.”
Chapter 69
Nick had hoped for a chance to grab for his own gun, still locked away in the glove compartment, when they’d parked behind the house and D-bag got out of the car. Maybe even make a run for it. Luck wasn’t on his side though, and before D-bag had opened the passenger side door, Nick found himself staring down the barrel of a second gun, this one pointed at him by D-bag’s accomplice, who opened the driver’s door and pulled back on the hammer.
“Hello, Nick. Nice of you to join us.”
Shock kept him from voicing his surprise.
“Don’t just sit there staring, stud. Get out of the car.”
His body moved automatically, propelling him out of the Caddy. Finally, he choked out a single word. “Pearl?”
She threw her head back laughing, a deep rumbling sound that worked its way up her creamy throat. The blonde, wavy hair she used to wear long had been cut short, giving her a sophisticated look and showing off her slender neck. She was a pretty woman, even at fifty-three. Tall and slim. Fine features. Pleasing to look at. Until Nick looked into her eyes. Darkness resided there. A malevolence that flickered to life, giving a sinister quality to her smile. She waved the gun at his face. “Not too often someone gets the scoop on you, is it, gorgeous? Now get your ass in the house. Lois Lane’s in there waiting for you.”
“You always were a smart ass, Pearl.”
“Smart being the operative word, lover boy.”
D-bag smacked him upside the head with the butt of his Glock. A blinding flash of pain cracked against his skull, striking at the side of his head, just above his right temple, and shooting out across his face and down to his neck.
“Lady told you to get in the house,” D-bag said. “Now get moving.”
Nick took the blow without a sound, holding in the yelp that threatened to let loose. Almost dazed, he walked to the door. Pearl? He tried to wrap his mind around the reality. What the hell was she doing here? Why? She was the one who’d tipped him off about Rod’s blackmail scheme. Janelle had been her friend.
He entered the house, urged forward by the pair of guns pointed at his back, and scanned his surroundings, looking desperately for Jamie. When he saw no sign of her, he wheeled around, glaring at his newfound enemy. “Where’s Jamie? What have you done with her?”
Pearl grinned. “Aren’t you the man of a thousand questions?”
“He’s a reporter, darling. What do you expect?”
Nick recognized the new voice the moment he heard it, and the shock wave that had been building in him finally burst through. He turned to look at the woman greeting them at the top of the stairs, and saw it was no lie. She looked at least ten years younger than she had at her daughter’s funeral. Slimmed down to about one hundred and twenty pounds, he guessed. Her new svelte figure shown off in a low-cut, white blouse and a tight-fitting pair of orange capris. The outfit matched her orange pair of Jack Rogers sandals with white stitching. In her hand, she held a champagne flute, half-full, and a newly lit cigarette. Things made sense now. “Marianne Clarke.” He congratulated himself on sounding unruffled. “I thought you’d moved to Atlanta.”
“I did, darling. I’m just here on business.”
The pronouncement brought a wave of laughter from Pearl and D-bag, and Nick felt ill. Not for himself, but for Jamie. This was never about Rod or Peter; or blackmail, or porn shops or the sexual abuse of underage girls. This was his past coming back to haunt him. Those damn pictures of Taralynn Clarke. God, how he wished he’d never printed them. It seemed unlikely now either Jamie or he would leave here alive.
Chapter 70
“There’s nothing fucking here.” Danny had the curse word out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Sorry ‘bout that, Sarge. Didn’t mean to let loose with the f-bomb in front of you.”
She laughed. “Danny, you are perfectly charming. You know that?”
“Really? Will you do me a favor and tell my wife that? Because she’s always telling me I’m a slob.”
“Sorry.” She patted him on the arm. “Not going within a mile of that one.”
“You’re a smart lady not to. Believe me.” He looked around the deserted dirt road. They’d been up and down the length of it twice, and there was nothing there but trees. The road was a dirt path leading to the water, probably a road to a boat launch or perhaps a fishing hole.
“Someone gave him a false address,” Sarge noted. “I’d ask why, but I’d say the answer to that is obvious. This is a pretty good place to nab someone. If that’s what you’re looking to do.”
She was right about that, but Danny still searched through the trees. “What’d they do with his car, you suppose?” He expected to see it parked off to the side of the road somewhere.
“One of two things. Either someone got in and drove off with it, or it’s out there in the water.”
Danny pictured the Caddy on the sea bottom, fish swimming in and out through the windows, coral growing on the frame. He shook his head. “Be a real shame if that’s what happened. Nick really loves that car.”
“He may no longer be around to care. In fact, he could be out in that water with his car.”
Danny hated to admit it, but Sarge was right. Nick could be dead already. Jamie, too. Poor kid. He pictured them now, anchored underwater somewhere, wearing cement ankle bracelets. Or their lifeless bodies thrown carelessly into the woods. Flies buzzing around them like they’d landed on a delicatessen. He felt sick. “Sarge, we’ve got to find them.”
She nodded her head. “We will, Danny. I don’t like leaving my case files open.”
A call came through the police radio and Sanchez’s voice crackled to life through a background of static. “Hey, Sarge, looks like you’ve got a problem out there.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Miguel. We’ve been at the scene for ten minutes now. Where the hell is local PD?”
“They just called. Said there’s no such address. That road is just some old dirt trail the locals use to launch their boats. Secretary’s new. Took her over an hour to get back with me.”
“Believe it or not, we’ve already figured out the address is bogus. But I still have two missing persons to deal with, and a reason to suspect foul play. Get Monroe County PD back on the line and tell them to get their butts out here ASAP.”
“You got it, Sarge. Oh, and by the way, Peter Arnold and his attorney are due here in an hour for that interview you wanted. Can you make it back for that, or should I reschedule?”
“I’m on my way, Miguel. I should make it back before they arrive, but if I don’t, hold them there.”
“Will do, Sarge.”
The radio went silent. Danny sat listening to it for several long seconds. All his life, he had been a reporter. Never wanted to do anything else. Now he felt helpless at his role in life. Unable to do anything but sit back and watch, and report on events as they unfolded. Right now he’d trade his career in a heartbeat if someone would turn him into Sherlock Holmes.
Chapter 71
Her baby would die. Jamie’s eyes welled up, tears slipping down her face. That was it then. Two pink lines o
n a white stick had her ready to sob like the world was coming to an end. Damn her hormones. Damn her stupid emotions. Damn Nick.
For eight years, she’d been in control. She’d been a wreck when Dean left, but she’d been nineteen. Naïve and inexperienced. After that month of wallowing, nearly flunking out of college, she’d pulled herself together. She’d toughened up. She’d figured out the key to getting through life was to stop believing in fairy tales. Then along came Nick.
Funny, she thought, how it wasn’t being held captive, or the thought of dying, that had broken her down in the end, but one man and two little pink lines. She supposed it was best she’d never had the chance to tell Nick about the baby. It would make her death less of a burden for him if he didn’t know their child had died, too.
A sound in the hallway brought an end to her tears. She heard voices, low and angry, and coming closer. Wriggling and rubbing her wrists together, she tried again to free her hands from the nylon rope, but it remained taut. No matter how much she struggled, the knots held tightly. Rope fibers burned her wrists and, though she couldn’t see it, felt the burn of skin scraping away. She bit back her cries and struggled on.
She was locked in a bare room with one second story window, minus the window glass, and a polished wood floor. Her feet had been left unbound, enabling her to walk to the open window and determine the jump would probably kill her, sparing her captors the trouble. The adjoining bathroom also had the glass removed from the window, along with everything else except the tub and toilet. Nothing anywhere that could be used as a weapon, or to cut through the rope. Her only hope of escape was to somehow free her hands and try to pick the lock on the door when she was unattended. As she listened to the voices coming closer, panic urged her to work harder. This could be the time they finally came to kill her.
She wouldn’t go down without a fight. She would get free, catch Pearl by surprise and wrestle the gun from her hands. Or run barreling toward her, using her head as a battering ram, slamming into the woman’s gut if she had to. If it was D-bag who came, she’d use whatever martial arts moves she remembered from her childhood classes and hope for the best.
Gossip (Desire Never Dies) Page 28
