“Are you okay, Mrs. Jacobson?”
There was a longing in her eyes. She told the story as if she’d been there. But it was well over a hundred years ago. No way she was alive then.
“Fine.” She focused on the painting again.
What did this story, the mixed paints, and murders have to do with Mrs. Jacobson?
“If you ever find true love, Mattie. Never let it go. Don’t take it for granted, or look for anything else, and if necessary, fight to keep it.”
She was fiery, but I didn’t have a chance to respond. The doorbell rang. I got nervous thinking her story was meant to distract me, which it did. Confused and nervous, I prepared to bolt.
“Would you get the door?”
For a murderer? No thanks!
As if Mrs. Jacobson sensed my unease, she tried to calm me with a gentle hand. Instead, I ran as fast as I could out the back door. On my way to the car, I noticed the old Cadillac that had been there before. It must have been her gentleman caller. I hoped they weren’t evil killers, but I didn’t stick around to find out.
Mrs. Jacobson knew where I lived, so if she had anything to do with the killings, we could all be in trouble. I needed help.
The only person I trusted with the details of Mrs. Jacobson’s connection to Ruggiano, and her suspicious choice of paints, besides Garrett, was Cal. Cal was at a crime scene and temporarily unavailable, the dispatcher informed me.
Reluctantly, I reached out to Garrett.
I was on my way to meet him when a blue van came dangerously close to rear-ending me. The Hellcat had tons more power, so I hit the gas to outrun them.
I checked the rearview mirror, there was no van. Before there was time to celebrate the van sideswiped me. I tried to turn out of the spin, but the car was going too fast. It jumped the curb into someone’s front yard and crashed into a tree.
The hit knocked me around good, but the passenger side door took the brunt of the damage. I was disoriented. Zorro, the guy with the sword, I mean scabbard tattoo was there. He and another guy grabbed me out of the car. The Hellcat was going to need bodywork, maybe a new passenger door, and plenty of paint. Zorro and his buddy put a bag over my head and shoved me into the van.
They drove and I bounced around in the back of a van that smelled like incense. I wondered if Zorro was a recreational user, or just a big fan of patchouli. The scent was cloying. So much so, I almost missed something that smelled like a bowling alley. I contemplated what that meant then the van stopped.
The men pulled me out, bag still on my head, and shoved me into an elevator. It sounded like we were in a garage, but it was muffled. I guessed by the chimes we ended up on the fourth or fifth floor.
Someone pulled the bag off my head. I was standing in an office fit for a king, or rather, a Sultan.
A familiar figure stood next to me facing the firing squad. I’d recognize those biceps anywhere.
When the bag came off, Garrett shook his head. He looked at me with a mix of pain and relief. I felt the same. It had been too long since we’d talked, but to make things worse, this was not what we’d planned when we agreed to meet Sultan. Without Cal as backup, it was just the two of us against an army of who knows how many guys in black carrying who knows how many weapons. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
“Ah, welcome. Welcome!” He surveyed us, probably wanted to see how we’d respond.
Even though we had no shackles, making a break would have been stupid. We needed information. Besides all they’d done up to now was take us by surprise, blindfold us, and bring us to Sultan’s place, which was some sort of loft overlooking the city. Also, there were too many goons around for us to make a move.
I couldn’t place exactly where we were, but if I had to guess, we were somewhere on the Covington side facing Cincinnati.
We were in a great room with floor to ceiling windows draped in decorator grey fabric that spilled onto the floor. The curtains were pulled back so we could see the view and a set of doors that led to a balcony perched above the river. It wasn’t some dark, hidden lair. For that I was thankful. Light was a good sign. Wasn’t it?
I caught a glimpse of Garrett. He looked like he was getting a lay of the land. I wondered if he could figure out a way to break us out of here.
“My apologies for the manner in which you were brought here, but one cannot be too careful these days.” Hard to tell where he was from. I hadn’t exactly traveled the world. He had a warm olive complexion—the wrinkles and paunch made him look about fifty—and he spoke with some sort of European accent.
He walked up to me.
“I’ve been wanting to meet you. And not just because you have some information that will help my business.”
Garrett tensed. Sultan wagged a finger at him. “I’m glad to see you too, but let’s not be hasty Mr. Mackenzie. By now, you’ve seen that you are outnumbered and outgunned. It would be a pity if anyone got hurt.”
Garrett smiled as if he knew something I didn’t, like how to deal with this guy. The tension in his shoulders remained, so maybe dealing with the henchman wouldn’t be easy.
Sultan circled us before he took a seat behind a mahogany desk.
“Shall we start with you lovely?” He rolled his chair up to the desk, put his elbows on the armrests, and laced his fingers together under his chin as if he was waiting for me to explain the meaning of life.
I had no idea what to say, so I kept quiet, which wasn’t like me at all.
“Why don’t you tell us why you kidnapped us and brought us here?” One of the guards put on a set of brass knuckles, stepped forward, and punched Garrett in the gut. He let out a squeak of pain and doubled over. I rushed to help make sure he was okay.
Another guard stepped toward me. Sultan waived him off and he returned to his post.
“Kidnapping is such a harsh word. I’d like to think you’re here willingly. My team has taken measures to protect me, the main reason for the secrecy.”
Garrett couldn’t stand upright, probably injured ribs.
Rage shot through me. “Can we get on with it then? We’d like to get out of here as quickly as possible.” My tone was all business, so much so it shocked even me.
“Yes, yes. I can see why you like her.” Sultan looked from Garrett to me. “Why don’t we start with the files?”
“You nabbed me unexpectedly. What makes you think I have them on me?”
A flash of anger crossed Sultan’s face. “Of course you have them. You wouldn’t trust them to be anywhere other than wherever you are. I know enough about you to know that much.”
I don’t know what he knew about me, but he was right—up until the home invasion. I knew if we handed over our only leverage before we got information on Chloe’s murder, or got out of here, we could kiss more than our leverage goodbye. I’d stashed the drive in a safe place. Garrett had no idea, and neither did Sultan.
“Of course, but you promised something in return.”
“You’re speaking of my note. I will oblige since you are my guests.”
Sultan told us that Ruggiano came to him with a deal to fund a casino in Michigan. Sultan would fund the construction. They’d purchase the land using a shell company. Ruggiano would handle the grease the skids with the politicians, so the developers could finish in eighteen months time.
Sultan liked the plan, up until a land survey found a portion of the proposed site didn’t belong to the tribe who’d agreed to let them build the casino. Five lots ran right through a corner of the planned high-rise.
The land survey was a point of contention. Until the land in question could be authenticated, or sold outright to the developers, the project stopped.
Sultan and Ruggiano agreed to buy out the owners—coax them to leave with the promise of more money than they’d ever seen before. When that failed, Ruggiano used threats until all but one family caved. The Sigos.
Although Sultan did not admit to knowing about the plan, he told us Ruggiano sent men to r
ough up the grandfather, Walter Sigo. Sigo spouted off something about the land being their heritage, and if they gave it up, they may as well have been dead.
This frustrated Sultan and Ruggiano. The latter hired a lawyer to threaten litigation against the family, tribe members, friends and employers helping Sigo.
Finally, Ruggiano paid off a bank manager to have the Sigo family evicted. It would have succeeded had it not been for Chloe.
Sultan explained that Chloe took on Sigo’s case, and was dogged in her efforts to keep them on their land.
This sounded a lot like the Chloe I knew. Hard-working and determined.
“Sigo helped your friend get in touch with the money man responsible for buying up the properties, I believe he is your first victim.”
Jimbo.
Garrett shifted uncomfortably.
“The girl must have been a real crusader,” Sultan continued, “because she befriended this man and somehow convinced him to turn on Ruggiano. They compiled a list of all the people on Ruggiano’s payroll: the business owners, politicians, cops, judges, and average Joes tied up in his illegal activities. They planned to share the list with the authorities in exchange for this money man’s protection.”
Learning this information made Chloe a target. Now that I had it, I was the target.
“The list your friend kept is the key to the kingdom. When it is mine, Ruggiano will no longer be necessary.” Sultan nodded to one of his goons. “Neither will Sigo and his family.” He said that last part under his breath, but I heard it.
“As for the other answers, look into the Brampton Corporation. That is where you’ll find enlightenment.” Sultan emphasized the word as if he knew it was Chloe’s password.
It shocked me.
Sultan bared his sharp white teeth and I took an unconscious step back. Things were about to get worse.
“There’s nothing to fear, as long as you have what I desire.”
It sounded like a threat, a come-on, and all kinds of wrong. I looked around. He had nothing to fear. We were trapped in his lair.
I didn’t know where we were, although he hadn’t exactly hidden the view. I’d seen enough television drama to know getting a look at our captors, and their hideout, was not a good thing. We were still alive because Sultan assumed I had a flash drive stuck in my pocket. Once he had it, we’d be dead.
The guard who’d hurt Garrett approached me. He lifted up my arms and grinned as he searched me. His hands started low then traveled up my legs. He patted me down, thoroughly. Even squeezed my upper thighs and back pockets.
I stuck my chin out. “Get your feels in now, perv. I’m gonna break your hands the first chance I get.”
The creep’s smile widened.
“It’s safe to say you searched her. Although, I’d love to see her tear you apart.” Garrett gave the guy a death stare.
The guard took a step toward Garrett—
“Now, now. It’s finished.” Sultan got the guard to back away from us with a wave of his hand. “Did you get anything, besides her measurements?”
The guard shook his head. Sultan didn’t like the answer. He stalked forward and studied me—I wasn’t sure what he was thinking.
He suddenly pulled a syringe from his pocket and jabbed it into Garrett’s arm.
Garrett flinched then dropped to the ground.
I ran to him. “Garrett? Garrett! Are you all right?” His eye went glassy. There was very little response when I shook him. I turned my attention to Sultan. “What did you do?”
“Only what was necessary. Now give me what I want.”
“I told you, I don’t have it!”
“Yes, but you know how to get it. Poisoning Garrett guaranteed you’d give me the drive.”
“What did you give him?”
“A special blend of poisonous herbs. My supplier ensures me they’re quite effective.”
“You’re insane!”
“I’m the bad guy, remember? I get what I want, or he dies.” There was madness in his eyes.
Anger burned me up, but I had to save Garrett.
“I’ll get it, but I need him, or whatever’s left of him to help me.”
“Fine.” Sultan walked over and dropped the syringe in the trash near his desk. “I’ll send along my guard Ivan to make sure you don’t go to the police. Garrett has less than 24 hours to get an antidote, so you’d better be quick.”
A guard helped me peel Garrett off the floor. We steadied him, so he could walk with assistance.
As we got near Sultan’s desk, a plane flying by caught everyone’s attention. We looked out the balcony. While the distraction was going on, I snatched the syringe from the garbage, and hid it up my sleeve, trying not to poke myself.
Sultan turned to back. “Do not disappoint me. More than just Garrett’s life is at stake, Mattie.”
I nodded and we left through the front door. No bag this time meant Sultan was didn’t care what we saw. He expected to get the disk drive and have us killed.
CHAPTER 30
The ride was bumpy. Garrett panted, eyes closed, while we rode in the van. He was out of it, which forced me to come up with a plan on my own. The good news was we only had to overtake one guard. The bad news was Garrett couldn’t move much, so I’d have to do it myself.
A few minutes after we left, the van came to an abrupt stop. It didn’t feel like we’d been on the road long enough to get home.
The door slid opened. The grin on our captor’s face was not at all innocent.
“Where do we pick up the disk drive?”
I’d already thought about our chances. We needed help. Going to the police station was too obvious. The funeral home was risky, didn’t want him to hurt anyone else close to us. That left us with limited options.
I chose Chloe’s. I knew where she lived, we’d just been there to search it, knew no one would be inside, and that the cops, meaning Cal, would likely check her place if we went missing. The security cameras outside the building, and in the foyer, were another plus.
I gave the address to the guard, but he didn’t move. He just stared at me then looked at Garrett who was knocked out in the back of the van, and back at me.
The guy who’d patted me down pulled me out of the van.
I resisted as he dragged me along the side of the road until we got to a spot where grass met gravel.
“This is gonna be fun.” He turned me to face him.
I knew this would end badly. I needed to do something, anything. Before he could shove me into the ditch, I jabbed the syringe I’d been holding into his neck. He yelled and grabbed at it. When he threw it to the ground, I used everything I had to shove the palm of my hand up into his nose. The crack sent him down, screaming in pain.
I ran to the van, jumped in the driver’s seat, and sped off. As soon as I could glance back, I watched Garrett fighting to come to. He wasn’t winning.
It was time to get help.
I parked the van near Millie’s shop.
I called Cal then gave Millie the rundown. She studied the syringe, sniffed it with her eyes closed, twice.
Millie looked different here—in her element, a powerful force—more influence than she wielded at the funeral home. I watched. Her voluminous hair had been tied up in a head wrap of the same fabric as her dark-patterned dress highlighted with bronze threads that swept the floor.
It startled me when her eyes opened. Bulging and focused on me, as though they could see everything I’d ever thought.
Then as if she paid me no mind, she glided through a doorway curtained with hanging beads, her muumuu shifting as she moved. She was gone only a few moments before reentering the front of the store with a small vial. She handed it to Garrett. The liquid was a deep, dark red. Another potion. She had pretty good luck with potions, so I held back judgment. She peeled his eyes open and purred into his ears ‘drink ‘dis my boy’. He obeyed.
Garrett stumbled a bit when he threw back the potion, so we propped him up on a battere
d stool. Seeing him at the wooden counter, with strange plants and bits of God-knows-what-else stuffed into the jars behind him made the place look like some kind of voo-doo diner. ‘Would you like an eye of newt soda? Or how about a toad stool shake?’ Millie looked at me and chuckled. I shivered. Could she possibly know what I was thinking?
“That ought to last him da night, but it wasn’t enough to bring him back.”
“Bring him back?”
“Yeah, dis boy’s gonna need more balm. He won’t get better without it.”
“Can’t we just take him to a doctor?”
“Whoever poisoned him wanted him gone. Conventional medicine would only make it worse.”
“He needs a few doses of dis.” She held up a bottle of yellow elixir. She indicated he also needed more of the ruby red potion.
“I need to get up north and warn the Sigo family. Cal might be able to help, but Ruggiano has resources all over, and Sultan’s men have a head start.”
We watched as Garrett let out a small groan. “Can you keep him here and give him whatever potions or salves he needs?”
“I’m coming.” He nearly fell off the stool. I helped straighten him.
“You need to stay here. Let Millie give you some medicine so you can get better.”
“I don’t have no more.”
I stood stunned.
“My herbs need to be combined with more Balm than I’ve got. Where up north ya headed?”
“Tahquamenon Falls.” Memories flooded my head and vanished as quickly as they came. “Sigo met Chloe up there. I think that’s our best shot.
“You can harvest da plants at the falls. They’ll be best near the water.”
Garrett swayed.
“Better get him up there, fast.”
If he didn’t question her with his own life on the line, why should I? “How do we get there fast?”
“Cal can help.” Garrett regained some color as he said it.
Red Ochre Falls Page 28
