The pair tilted their heads as if wondering what those words meant.
Chapter Eighteen
It was over a week later. Reif and Quinn returned from the marina from another long cruise, docked and buttoned the boat down for the week. They strolled hand in hand, leaning into each other up the dock to the parking area.
They stopped for fast food and sang along with the radio tuned to classic rock. The freeway traffic crawled but by dusk they’d made it home, still singing the final refrain of “Oh, Sherry.”
Once inside, Quinn stopped laughing and leaned against the door to catch her breath. Carefree giddiness morphed into hot passion as Reif lowered his mouth to hers. She breathed in his scent, exhilarated, knowing what awaited her.
“I want you right now.” His hot breath sent shivers of anticipation through her. He maneuvered her to the living room while he worked the buttons of her shirt. He gave up after one and unzipped her shorts instead. Those came off easily enough along with her underwear.
Quinn giggled, being naked from the waist down and still dressed from the waist up. Her shorts caught on her boat shoes, but then they were off, tangled and discarded.
Meanwhile she had unzipped Reif’s shorts and pushed them down around his ankles. He tried to kick his shorts off but managed only to lose his balance, falling back onto the sofa. He landed in an undignified sprawl, still holding Quinn.
Quinn recovered quickly and straddled him.
“Now, baby, now,” he insisted.
“I know. I know.” She worked off his briefs and slid down over him. Their eyes locked in a shared triumph while they paused for a moment, panting.
He groaned, cupping her bottom, shifting positions, pulling her closer. She moved against him as best she could from such an awkward angle.
She rocked against him as he swelled inside her. His fingertips dug into her bottom as she met each of his thrusts, crying out in ecstasy.
Spent, they clung to each other, hot and sweaty, sticky and windblown and salty. Quinn noticed a mild sunburn on Reif’s face and arms.
“Are we sex addicts, do you think?”
Reif chuckled. “I think the term you’re looking for is ‘newlyweds’.”
“Yes, but…are we always going to be like this?”
“God, I hope so.”
“I still have my shoes on.”
He kissed her. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
Quinn leaned back with a glint in her eyes. “I was wrong about you, Fantasy Man. You do have some truly stellar moments of spontaneity after all.”
* * * * *
Quinn might not have noticed anything out of the ordinary if it weren’t for the Cadillac parked at the curb.
She’d left the restaurant later than usual after Frankie asked her to help prep for the dinner shift because he was short-handed. Quinn hadn’t minded, and now she tucked the overtime he’d paid her into her pocket, humming happily to herself.
Until she rounded the corner and caught sight of the Escalade.
It was shiny clean. Black. Tinted windows. She’d seen a number of black Cadillacs, either sedans or Escalades similar to this one when they were dropped off with the valet at the front entrance of The Turtle Club. Everything about this particular car screamed “mob” to her, even while she told herself she was being ridiculous. The mob in this neighborhood? Not in a million years. More likely the car was a rental, maybe transporting a celebrity. The car was out of place, in any case.
Then Quinn saw him. Across the street and three houses down, talking to a woman leaning on a rake in front of a pile of yard debris. She was looking at something he was showing her.
A picture of me? Quinn wondered. That sick, panicky feeling in her gut told her to run, even if she hadn’t subconsciously recognized the guy who was showing the picture.
She took several steps back, certain he hadn’t seen her, until she was hidden behind an overgrown hedge she’d passed seconds before. She turned and ran, her mind moving as fast as her legs.
She had to get back home. Did that woman know who she was? For God’s sakes, Quinn, she’s probably seen you walk home from the restaurant at least ten times in the past two months. Who knew what people noticed or who they might recognize?
The very least she could tell the mob guy was that yes, she might have seen someone in this neighborhood who vaguely looked like the picture. And if he asked anyone at Antonia’s…
She remembered his name now. Vinnie, though they often called him The Nose when he wasn’t around. She’d seen him in The Turtle Club on more than one occasion. He was one of the mid-level guys, part of the inner circle but not in a position of authority.
Quinn thought her heart would burst before she got back to Reif’s house. She had circled around and was now stopped at the corner opposite her usual approach. Panic had choked her airway and her breath came in hard painful gasps. She’d probably run a personal best getting back here this fast. She pressed a hand to her side and bent forward catching her breath while she scanned the street.
She didn’t see anyone. If they were nosing around near where she worked, maybe they already knew where she lived? There were no unfamiliar cars parked along the curb or in the driveways, though. She took slow, measured steps toward the house, ready to bolt at any moment if need be.
She made it up the steps, unlocked the door and got inside. She bolted the door and raced up the stairs. She had to get out of here. Now! And she had to warn Reif.
From the closet she pulled the same duffel bag she’d carried onto the plane and quickly began to pack. She wouldn’t need much, only the basics and only what she could carry.
From the back of her underwear drawer she pulled out two envelopes. She stared at the one Tony had given her to give to Reif. The other held the stash of cash she’d squirreled away since she’d been here. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for a quick escape.
She came out of the bathroom with her toothbrush in her hand and stopped dead in her tracks.
“What’s all this?” Reif asked. In one hand he held a gold foil-wrapped box of chocolates, in the other a bouquet of red roses. “It’s our almost two-week anniversary. I thought…” He looked at her waiting for a response.
She made herself move toward the bed. “I’m sorry. Tony sent this for you.” She handed him the envelope from Tony. “I was supposed to give it to you the day I got here.”
Reif set the roses and chocolate on the bed. While Reif opened the envelope and removed the contents, Quinn put the last few items she needed into a side pocket of the duffle bag. Including the chocolates. And one of the roses. She sat on the edge of the bed and yanked on her sneakers. If she was going to run, she’d need proper footwear.
“There’s a voice mail message.” She watched Reif’s expression transform as he listened. She wanted to cry, to scream, but most of all, to escape.
He snapped the phone closed and stared at her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She didn’t like the tone of his voice but she made herself answer. “They’re here. So you need to pack fast.”
“Here? Where?”
“I saw one of them on my way home. He was talking to a woman down the street and I’m pretty sure he was showing her my picture. I recognized him.” She stood and walked toward him. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
“You’re sure? The guy you saw was one of them? You’re sure?”
“Yes. Vinnie, I think his name is. They called him The Nose.”
“Come on.” Reif grabbed her arm and dragged her behind him.
In his bedroom, he packed a bag nearly identical to hers with the same essentials.
From the top shelf of his closet he removed the gun safe, opened it with a key he kept in the top drawer of his dresser.
He loaded the Glock, checked that the safety was on and tucked it i
nto his waistband.
He dropped a couple more clips into a side pocket of his duffel bag and one into the front pocket of his pants.
“Now we’re ready. Let’s go.” They made a stealthy trip down the stairs, keeping close to the wall. Through the sidelight next to the front door, Reif peered outside.
“Did he have a car, do you know?”
“A black Escalade with tinted windows.”
“Can’t see much from here.” He led the way to the side door, then paused. “Stay here.” He retraced his steps to the kitchen. Quinn heard a drawer open and close. When he returned he handed her a set of keys. “If anything happens to me, get in the car and go. Get away.” He handed her Tony’s envelope. “You call Tony as soon as you can, all right?”
“All right, but—”
“No buts. Promise me you’ll do it.”
“I will.”
From a peg near the door he took a hooded jacket and handed it to her. “Put this on and put the hood up. You got sunglasses?”
“Yes.”
“Put them on.”
Reif cracked the door an inch and peered out for a minute. His car was parked in the narrow drive. “Walk fast but don’t run to the car. You get in, put your head down and keep it there, I mean it.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go.”
Quinn was right behind him but he backed up and closed the door. He flipped the deadbolt. “Not happening.”
“What?”
His fingers clamped around her wrist ensuring that she’d stick by him. “There’s a black Escalade blocking the driveway.”
“Oh shit.”
Reif grasped her arms and locked eyes with her. “I need you to do what I say. No questions. No arguments. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“Go turn on the alarm and unplug the landline.”
Quinn did as he asked. She heard Reif open the door that went from the laundry room to the garage and came back with two rolls of duct tape. He set the tape on the kitchen counter before he yanked one of the chairs away from the table. “You need to hide. The bathroom.” He went in with her, his voice low and urgent, but completely under control. “I’m assuming he’ll come to the front door. Probably doesn’t think we’re expecting trouble. I’m going to open it—”
“Why?”
“—With my gun pointed at his head. Hopefully he’s not ready for that kind of reception.”
“And hopefully he’s alone.”
“Yeah, that too. I’ll disarm him and get him into that chair in the kitchen. That’s where you come in. You cover him while I use duct tape to contain him. If he moves—”
“Shoot him.”
“Do you think you can?”
“If I have to.”
“Good girl.”
They could hear footsteps crossing the porch. “But if anything goes wrong, run like hell. Got it?”
Quinn nodded. Reif pulled out his gun, eased out into the foyer and closed the bathroom door.
The doorbell rang. Quinn held her breath. She heard the front door open, a loud crash, and a grunt of pain. It was all she could do not to open the door and assure herself that Reif was all right.
“Quinn,” Reif called a minute later.
She eased the bathroom door open. In the kitchen Reif stood behind Vinnie, the barrel of his Glock pressed into the back of Vinnie’s head, and a snub nose .38 in the other hand, no doubt acquired from Vinnie. He handed the Glock to her, and tucked the .38 in his waistband. “If he moves, shoot him.”
Reif went to work with the duct tape, winding one big piece around Vinnie’s torso and the chair back pinning his arms to his sides. A trickle of blood slid from Vinnie’s temple down the side of his face.
When Vinnie tried to make a move, Quinn jammed the barrel of the gun hard against his scalp. Could she shoot him if she had to? If it ever became a question of protecting Reif, she wouldn’t think twice.
Luckily, Vinnie stilled and she didn’t have to make the choice. Reif wound another long strip around Vinnie’s thighs and under the chair seat. The only sounds were their breathing and the squeaky noise the tape made as it was pulled from the roll. Reif separated Vinnie’s feet and taped each of his ankles to opposite chair legs.
Once Vinnie was relatively immobilized, Reif searched through his captive’s jacket and pants, freeing his wallet and a cell phone, along with the keys to the man’s Cadillac.
“Wait, my—” was all Vinnie managed to say before Reif slapped duct tape across his mouth. Then across his eyes.
That’s gonna hurt when he takes it off. Quinn winced at the idea of Vinnie’s eyelashes coming off with the duct tape.
Vinnie was covered with duct tape. Reif had wound it around in every direction. He’d even duct taped Vinnie’s fingers together, so even if he found something to cut through the tape, he’d have limited mobility.
Reif scooped up Vinnie’s belongings and shoved them into his pockets. He retrieved their bags. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere for a while,” he said. “Grab the bags. Let’s go.” He held his hand out to her. Quinn handed the gun back to him. Her arms were quivering from stress and the minutes of keeping the weapon trained on her target.
“Hold up a sec.” Reif took Vinnie’s .38 from his waistband stood in the kitchen’s arched doorway. He seemed to contemplate something before he aimed and fired.
Reif hustled Quinn outside and used the key fob to unlock the Caddy that had boxed Reif’s car in the driveway. “Come on.”
She didn’t question him but threw their bags in the back with some other luggage already back there and slid into the passenger seat. “Keep your head down.” Reif placed his hand on top of her head and shoved her below window level. Reif didn’t slow down as he turned the corner. He cut his gaze to her for a split second. “Put your seatbelt on.”
* * * * *
Quinn had no idea how long they’d been driving. She’d watched Reif constantly check the rear and side view mirrors, turn corners far too fast and constantly change lanes. “Can I sit up yet?”
His lips were pressed into a thin line. “I think so.” He answered without looking at her. Then he sneezed.
She sat up and looked around. They were on one of the freeways heading south if she wasn’t mistaken. “Where are we going?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there.”
Quinn pulled the hoodie off and tossed it in the backseat. “You shot Vinnie?”
“No.”
“You missed? How bad a shot are you?”
“I wasn’t aiming at him.”
“Why the hell not?”
Reif gave her a pained look. “I’d only have shot him in self-defense.”
“Oh. Sorry. What were you aiming at, then?”
“The door to the laundry room.”
“Did you hit that at least?”
“Yes.”
“Now the big question: Why?”
“Because eventually a security car will investigate the alarm being tripped. Vinnie’s got no ID with him. No vehicle. No weapon. He’s duct taped to a chair in a house that doesn’t belong to him. The owner isn’t there and can’t be reached. How’s Vinnie going to prove who he is? How’s he going to explain why he’s there or why there’s a bullet embedded in the door? He’ll have a lot of questions to answer.”
“You’re right. That should slow him down.”
“Maybe. We don’t know if he was alone.”
Quinn turned around to stare at the traffic visible through the rear window. “You think we’re being followed?”
“If we are, they’re better than I am. I didn’t notice anyone trying to keep up with me.”
“Good. That’s good, right?” She waited a beat. “Where are we going?”
Reif returned his attention to the road, n
ot answering her question.
“Can I turn on the radio?”
Reif sneezed again before he said, “Get that package Tony sent with you.”
Quinn released her seatbelt and leaned into the back to retrieve the envelope. After she’d resettled, Reif said, “Open it. Read it to me.”
Quinn had read Tony’s hastily scrawled instructions to Reif before. Numerous times. She had almost memorized them by now. Each and every time she’d considered giving them to Reif. Then she’d pushed everything back into the padded envelope. The instructions, the phone, its charger cord, the smaller envelope of emergency cash.
“Read it.” Reif’s tone broke her out of her reverie.
She stared at the page in her lap until the words blurred. “I’d rather not.”
“Read it.” What jarred Quinn most wasn’t that his knuckles were white they were wrapped so tight around the steering wheel, or how he sat so rigidly, his muscles tense. It was the deadly calm of his voice, devoid of any emotion, except perhaps barely contained rage.
She sighed and picked up the page. Might as well get it over with.
“Hey man. Know you can’t watch her 24/7 but she knows how badly these guys want her dead. She has to stay inside at all times. Non-negotiable, no matter what she says. Lock her up in a safe house if you have to. It’s that serious. Don’t trust her and don’t let her play you. If you need me, text 711 to the number in the contact list. I or someone I trust will get back to you. I owe you, bro.”
Reif dug the phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Text 711 to Tony. Then show me the screen so I know you did it.”
Quinn knew better than to argue. She sent the text and held up the phone so Reif could see it before she handed it back. When Reif said nothing further, when he didn’t look at her, Quinn turned on the radio.
* * * * *
Eventually, Quinn began seeing signs for San Diego and assumed that’s where Reif was headed. He hadn’t spoken to her and she hadn’t tried to talk to him. She hadn’t even said “bless you” when he sneezed again. All she’d done was change radio channels periodically and stew about her predicament.
Fantasy Man Page 15
