“Sounds like a plan.” She walked side by side next to Kinsley until she reached the alleyway. “See ya later.”
Kinsley waved and then headed into the bar.
Remy walked the dozen or so steps until she spotted the cruiser sitting in the same spot it had been since Asher put protective detail on her loft. “Hi, Fritz,” she said to the cute, dark-haired twentysomething cop. He had gorgeous blue eyes, and probably was a killer with the ladies. “I’d like to pick up some plants and take them to Asher’s. I feel absolutely ridiculous asking this—”
“It’s not a problem,” he said firmly. “I’ll follow you there and back.”
She smiled. “Perfect. Thank you.” She rushed to her car and got in quickly, driving her car to the front, with Fritz closely following her. She parked in front of the hardware store and hurried inside.
Huxley Hardware had been around for as long as Remy could remember, and probably had been there before that. The rectangular-shaped shop had an odd smell of something between dust, mold, and musk, but Remy smiled at the memories of when Nana brought her here as a child. Remy had always been sure that Mr. Huxley and Nana had a thing going on, but she never could confirm that.
“Hey, Remy,” Clifford Huxley, the grandson of Mr. Huxley, called when the front door chimed behind her.
Clifford stood behind the counter with the old register. He was two years younger than Remy, and cute, with his black-rimmed glasses and stylish haircut. They’d gotten to know each other well, especially after Nana passed away and Remy came in to buy the herbs she needed. “Hey!” She smiled in return. “How’re things?”
“Good around here,” Clifford said. “I hear the grand opening was a huge success. Congrats on the shop.” He hesitated, then glanced up through his thick lashes. “Sorry about all the rest.”
Word traveled at light speed in this town. “Thanks.” Clifford had always been a good guy. Genuine and kind.
Obviously sensing she didn’t want to stay on the topic of Damon and the break-in, he moved around the counter. “What can I help you with?”
For a little blip, she had a moment. One where thinking about Damon and his death didn’t fill her with unruly emotion. The water cleansing obviously did the trick. But she knew that moving on from Damon had a lot to do with Asher too. Just another thing that made her smile. She never thought the guy who broke her heart into a million pieces would help her rebuild her life now. Life was such a peculiar thing. “I know it’s late in the season, but what have you got in terms of something I can plant?”
Clifford gestured toward the back of the shop. “We don’t have much left, but honestly we’ll give you a good deal on whatever we’ve got.”
“Perfect,” Remy said, and followed him through the rows of screws and tools. When she’d seen Maggie’s flowerbeds this morning, her heart broke. Not only because Maggie had loved her garden, but that Asher had let the flowers and plants die. Seeing the gardens must have been too much of a reminder of his mother. When she was out there today, she knew that she needed to return the favor. He helped her rebuild. She needed to do the same for him, and that started with bringing the good memories of Maggie back.
As she entered the back area that led to a small greenhouse, she smiled, realizing the past didn’t seem so hard anymore. She and Asher wouldn’t ever go back to that time before he left her, where she believed love was all rainbows and sunshine, but maybe they’d found something new. Something that was more mature, real, and honest. Something that said no matter what happened, they’d always come back to each other, one way or another. And that their friendship mattered. He’d been there for her, picking her up when she was at her lowest of lows. Now she wanted to do the same for him. And he was at a low; she saw that now.
“What do you think?” Clifford asked when they entered the practically empty greenhouse.
Remy took one look at the twenty or so pitiful plants desperate for a chance at life. “They’re perfect. How much for all of them?”
Clifford gave her a look like she’d lost her mind and examined the twenty plants with a scrunched nose. “Gimme twenty bucks and we’ll call it even.”
“Great,” Remy said, then glanced at the plants, reassessing. “How much to help me get this stuff in my car?”
“Ah, that I’ll do for free.” Clifford smiled.
It took ten minutes to load all the plants into the trunk and back seat of her car, and then Remy was careful on the drive over to Asher’s place so she didn’t send any of the plants flying, with Fritz following closely behind. As it was, the plants were going to need some TLC before winter hit. Some would probably die, but at least she’d get those flowerbeds looking better than they did now. Remy hoped it gave Asher a little peace.
She turned up the radio, singing along to the song, still wondering where he’d gone today. Usually whenever the guys got quiet about what they were doing, it involved a case. She just hoped it wasn’t hers.
When she finally pulled into Asher’s driveway, the clock read 5:22 on her dashboard. She hurried out, planning on dropping the plants off and coming back with Kinsley later to plant them. Fritz pulled in behind her, cutting his ignition too. She gave him a wave, which he returned, and then she moved around to the trunk to start unloading, when someone called her name.
She turned at the exact moment that two gunshots rang out and bulging arms wrapped around her and yanked her into a car. She screamed, but it was soon muffled by a hand over her mouth. She bit down hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood on her tongue.
“Fuck,” the man grunted.
He released her and she was flung onto the leather seat next to him as the SUV sped off. It took a moment to get her bearings, but she watched Fitz running after them with his gun drawn through the back window, his car tires blown out. Relief that he hadn’t been shot overwhelmed her, but then she realized the danger she’d been put in. She jerked her head forward and noticed that the man next to her, who was wrapping a handkerchief around his hand, wasn’t a stranger. Neither was the man sitting in the passenger seat.
Lars sat casually, that crooked smile on his face.
Next to him was one of the men who had been at the restaurant, keeping his attention on the road ahead. And the man she bit was the other guy from the restaurant.
“Scream and we’ll have trouble,” Lars said. “Be quiet and we won’t.”
She held back that scream he mentioned, and her stomach hardened like a rock as she glanced around trying to get a grip on reality. “Stop this car. Now!”
“Not going to happen,” Lars drawled. “You need to pay for what you’ve done.”
Remy glanced outside, trying to see where they were taking her, but they were already out in the vast wilderness of Maine. Asher…“I haven’t done anything,” she nearly yelled back at him. How many times did she have to say it?
“Bullshit,” Lars growled, his lip curling. “I know that you barely had any money to your name. I know you bought your shop instead of renting it. I know that you’re not as innocent as you say you are.”
The world stopped turning. No, she wasn’t totally innocent, but she also wasn’t as guilty as Damon. Remy noticed then that the driver had an earpiece, indicating he might be security of some kind. Her heart hammered, nearly exploding, and her gaze fell to the guy next to her. She contemplated unlocking the door and jumping out. Sure, she’d most definitely get injured, but at least she wasn’t a sitting duck waiting for the very worst thing to happen to her. The road was busy enough that someone would see her and help.
She slowly lifted her hand to reach for the lock, when the guy next to her said, “Bad idea.” He slid his tailored blazer aside, revealing a gun. She squeezed her trembling fingers together. “Where are you taking me?” she managed.
Lars glanced over his shoulder. “To—”
“Whitby Falls to have a chat,” the guy next to her interjected. “And then we’ll return you home after.”
Lars scowled. “I never—”
The man ignored Lars and said, “You’re difficult to get close to because of the detective. Measures needed to be taken to ensure we’ve got time alone with you, but you have my word that you’re safe and you’ll be returned home afterward.”
It occurred to her that she shouldn’t trust anyone, but the guy had surprisingly trusting hazel eyes. Both he and the driver were easy on the eyes, in fact. They looked strong, military maybe. Maybe that’s what made them good killers. They looked like men who protected the country. “Who exactly am I meeting?” she asked to understand her situation.
“Joaquin King.”
The name registered immediately, and Remy felt the blood drain from her face. She’d read the newspaper articles and seen the reports. Joaquin King wasn’t just a criminal; he was the head of the King crime family.
Fuck.
* * *
Asher’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel as the engine purred beneath him. He’d driven to Portland in three hours. He made it back home in two and a half hours. The call from Boone repeated in his mind every second on the drive back to Stoney Creek. “Remy’s car was found at your house with the door left open. She’s missing. Fitz was with her. They shot out his tires.”
How could Asher have let this happen? He shouldn’t have left her. He should have been more careful, been smarter, knowing who she was dealing with. He should have realized something more was going on. Fuck. His fingers tightened against the steering wheel.
Once again, he was back to wishing he’d done more for Remy.
And once again, he’d failed her.
“Stop berating yourself,” Rhett said, sitting easy in the passenger seat, obviously reading Asher’s mind. “There’s no way you could’ve anticipated this.”
“I should have anticipated everything,” Asher shot back, wishing he had a cruiser to hit the sirens and fly through town. He slowed the car when he came up behind an old Chevy and then he hit the gas and passed the car. “All the signs were there that things were escalating.”
“Escalating from what?” Rhett snorted. “You’re connecting things in your mind that aren’t there. Beyond making assumptions, the break-in wasn’t linked to Lars. He hasn’t made a step out of place that would suggest he’d abduct her.”
Asher shifted into a higher gear, speeding his car up on the open roads. He took the back way, which was longer in most cases, but there weren’t traffic lights or congestion. “Lars better not lay a finger on her. I’ll fucking kill him.”
“And I’ll help you,” Rhett stated dryly.
Another few agonizing minutes clicked by, and soon, Asher turned onto his street, his tires squealing. He caught the cruisers blocking off the intersection near his place, then screeched to a stop next to one of the them and jumped out, running to where Boone stood near Remy’s car. “Anything?” he asked, hearing the desperation in his own voice.
Boone shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “Nothing. The chief is back at the station monitoring things from there if anything comes in. We’ve put out an APB on the SUV. Fitz got the license plate as Remy got yanked in.”
“Did he fire at the vehicle?” Rhett asked.
“He didn’t trust his shot,” Boone said gently. “He didn’t want to hurt her.”
Asher needed to talk with Fitz once he got Remy back. He understood the type of guilt Fitz likely suffered, and Fitz was just a rookie, only finishing the police academy six months ago. Which was exactly why the chief could spare him and Ian to keep an eye on Remy. “I had no idea she was coming over.” His fists clenched against the fear Remy must have faced when she got dragged into the SUV. He moved closer to Remy’s car, glanced in the back, and saw plants on the floor and in the back seat.
Damn. She came to fix his mother’s garden. Her sweetness had put her in danger, and Asher felt the guilt of that sit hard in his gut. If his inability to face his mother’s garden got Remy hurt or worse…He shook his head, not letting his mind go there. “What else do you know?” he asked.
Boone’s forehead wrinkled and he lifted one shoulder. “Only what I’ve told you. Fitz said he saw the SUV drive up, they shot out his tires, then grabbed her. I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got.” He cupped Asher’s shoulder. “Now tell me what I don’t know.”
Asher dropped his head and exhaled slowly, trying to find the sane part of his brain. The one that didn’t want to tear the town apart looking for Remy. “We went and spoke with Lars’s sister, Christine Violi. She has had no contact with her brother. It’s pretty clear that she’s not comfortable with the fact that he’s involved with Joaquin King.”
“Smart woman,” Boone said, folding his arms.
Asher agreed with a nod. “Although they’re not close, she did indicate that the only reason Lars would be interested in Remy is because she’d done something that hurt his family.”
Boone lifted an eyebrow. “Any idea what that is?”
“Not a clue,” Asher said, beginning to pace the sidewalk. He kept feeling like he was one step behind this. Not a favorable position.
“If you ask me,” Rhett said, examining the skid marks that the SUV obviously left when it sped out, “there’s something we don’t know.” He placed one foot on the curb. “Remy’s got herself involved in something. Nothing about any of this makes sense. We know Lars met with King, and somehow that connection relates to Remy.”
Asher pondered. “It’s gotta be Fanning. That is the only connection here.”
“I’m not arguing with you,” Boone said with a knowing look. “But the only one who can help us understand that connection is Lars, and right now, he’s gone.”
“What happened to the tail we had on him?” Asher asked.
“He lost them,” Boone reported. “That call came in twenty minutes before Fitz radioed in.”
Asher moved to Remy’s car, leaned against it, and folded his arms. Pounding behind his eyes clouded his vision as he stared down at the very spot that someone wrapped their arms around her and yanked her into danger. “This doesn’t fucking make sense.” He rubbed his hands on his face, feeling the tension roll through him. “What in the hell does Violi want with her enough to abduct her?”
Rhett kicked at the curb. “You found nothing connecting Lars with the two King guys he met at that restaurant in Whitby Falls?”
Boone shook his head. “They’re two retired Navy SEALS who are now working for King, but beyond that, I couldn’t find a single link between them.”
“Perhaps Lars has hired them?” Asher offered.
“It’s possible,” Boone said.
“Yeah, it’s possible,” Rhett countered. “But what would Lars need protection from? Again, there’s a piece missing from all this.”
A sudden squeal of tires had Asher glancing down the road. For a heartbeat, Asher held his breath, hoping to hell it was Remy. Disappointment settled in a second later when he saw Kinsley driving her Jeep with Peyton in the passenger seat. They parked behind one of the cruisers and then came running to them.
“Did you find her?” Kinsley asked, her face ashen.
Boone shook his head. “Not yet.”
Kinsley dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking with her cries. “I should have gone with her to the hardware store. I’ve done this.”
“You haven’t done anything,” Boone said, taking his sister into a hug. “No one is responsible for this but Lars.”
Peyton’s eyes watered. “What does this guy want with her?” she asked.
“Exactly what I want to fucking find out,” Asher growled, thrusting his hands through his hair. “I don’t even fucking know where to look for her.” The world spun a little and Asher squatted, leaning against her car. A thousand things flashed through his mind; terrible things of what Lars was doing to Remy. Having seen people at their very worst, it was impossible not to let his mind wander to dark places. “I can’t lose her.”
He wasn’t sure if he said that aloud or in his head, until Boone s
aid, “You won’t lose her. We’ve got every station from here to Portland looking for that SUV. Someone will see it.”
What if that call came in too late?
The world rocked beneath him, nothing seeming stable, everything crumbling around him. “I can’t lose her,” he repeated, the thought sending him falling into a dark pit he knew he’d never climb out of.
Kinsley suddenly squatted next to him and placed a warm, comforting arm around his shoulder. “What can we do to help?”
Asher shut his eyes. He was always the strong one. The comforting one for victims. He knew what to say to make everyone feel better. That’s what he did. That was his job. He felt lost now, spiraling out of control, with no answers for anyone.
Rhett broke the silence. “Looks like Remy went to the hardware store and got some plants for the backyard.” He opened the trunk. “Kinsley, why don’t you and Peyton see to getting that done for her? It’s one thing she won’t have to worry about when she comes home.”
A tear slid down Kinsley’s cheek, but she wiped it away quickly, then threw her arms around Asher. He couldn’t even hug her back. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He needed Remy. Right there. Safe. The guilt began to drown him. Kinsley eventually let him go and moved to the trunk, where Rhett waited.
Peyton gave Boone a final kiss and then grabbed a plant. When she walked by Asher, she said, “Boone’s right. You guys never fail.” Her gaze strengthened. “Never, Asher.”
Asher nodded and rose, leaning against the car to steady himself. Peyton wasn’t wrong—they never failed at any case. He, Boone, and Rhett were an unbreakable team, one that caught the worst kinds of criminals, who didn’t stop until the good guys came out on top.
“Remy is smart and quick,” Rhett said, sidling up to him. “She’ll keep herself safe until we get there.”
“I know she will,” Asher said, his gut burning. “But she shouldn’t fucking have to.” All he wanted to do was fix things for her, and everything seemed to be disintegrating.
Wicked Sinner Page 18
