"Okay, but don't be long."
Once he was gone, I frowned. "I'm sorry. The only full desserts we have prepared right now are for our meal today. I can give you some slices of pie or see if Tara has some cookies…"
He shook his head. "Don't worry. I have an order placed at Cinnamon Sugar Bakery. I just wanted to speak privately with you."
"Okay, what's up?"
"Something's been bugging me for several days now. I've been thinking about the time line."
"Shut up. Me too."
He cut me an annoyed glance. I needed to explain and quick. "No disrespect. Shut up is a term my generation uses instead of really or get out, something along those lines."
He grinned and shook his head. "If you say so." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I bet you're curious about the same person I am."
We did tend to be on the wavelength when it came to crime fighting. If my bartending gig didn't work out, maybe I'd become an official crime fighter. Or not. I wouldn't look good in a uniform. "Let's be sure." I pulled a bar napkin from my back pocket and snagged a pen from the pocket of his shirt. I didn't want to say the name out loud since I'd been wrong before. And we'd learned conversations could be overheard—something I wanted to avoid until I knew I was one hundred percent right this time. Scrawling the name on the paper, I handed it to him. He nodded to confirm.
That detail out of the way, I asked. "Will you have time to track his comings and goings down before you head out today?"
He nodded. "Consider it done. I'll text you with the details."
If we were wrong, it was truly back to square one. If we were right…I didn't want to think about that and the implications for my family at the tavern.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Less than an hour later, our guests had arrived and were seated in the center of the dining room. We'd moved all the tables together to make one long Little House on the Prairie–type dinner table. A dark brown cloth covered the tables, accented by a plaid runner. Candles lined the center and gave the dining area a more homey feel. The plates were crème colored with a gold accent around the rim. I had no idea where those had come from, as they weren't part of our décor here at the tavern. Maybe Mrs. Montgomery had decided to share them with us for today. They reminded me of something she might have in her formal dining room. Decorative squash and pumpkins had been placed amongst the candles to create a beautiful centerpiece. The final touch, the scents of the holiday: basted turkey, freshly baked rolls, pumpkin spice, and a cornucopia of other scents teased my senses and made my stomach growl.
One turkey had been placed on the table for carving purposes—it was a tradition, after all. The rest had been carved already and was being kept warm in stainless steel chafers along with extras of all the sides. I looked around at the families represented. My smile wouldn't be diminished. We were not what would be considered the "normal" American family, but I had never been clear on who decided what normal really meant. We were together, and for that, I was thankful.
"Abe, would you do us the honors of carving the turkey?" It seemed only right to ask him to do the honors.
The warmth in his smile almost brought me to tears. He'd be gone before the day ended, and my heart ached at the thought of losing him, but at least I knew he'd be safe. "I would be honored. Perhaps before I do that, you'd like to offer a toast?"
Right. Guess that would be a good idea. Gram and I had our own traditions, but since it had only been the two of us most years, we hadn't been very official. I lifted my glass and looked around the table. The Mahoneys, Tucker, the Adams family, the Montgomery family, Clara and Tara, and then all the members of The Barking Spiders. On my right were Harmony and Brock. I did my best to convey all the crazy emotions I felt with them being here celebrating this with me. "Thank you all for being here for this pre-celebration of Thanksgiving. We might not be a traditional family, but we certainly put the fun in dysfunctional. Here's to dealing with life the best way we know how."
Drinks all around the table were lifted as they joined in a chorus of "Hear, hear." Many clinked to formalize and finish the toast. I noticed some didn't participate other than to start consuming their beverages. Guess that was to be expected since not everyone was happy to be here.
Liza was sitting in between Freddie and Michael. Both of the Mahoney men were dressed in slacks, button-up shirts, and jackets. Though I'd seen Michael looking top-notch in his lawyer attire, this was a new look for Freddie. From what I could tell, he wasn't feeling it. He'd already undone three buttons. I bet before the meal was over, he'd be down to his white T-shirt. Tommy sat on the other side, making no attempt to hide his glare each time Liza flirted with any man at the table. Maybe he was right and she was the female version of Brock. Though Brock's reasons seemed more noble than Liza's. Admittedly, I might be a bit biased.
Abe carved while everyone started filling their plates. There was something comforting about the low-level buzz of conversation.
"How long will it take you to get back to Florida?" I turned my attention away from the group and focused on my parents. I asked the question to let them know I really was cool with them heading back to their home.
Brock finished chewing a big bite of turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy. "This might be the best food I've had in ages. I know it's the first home-cooked meal in forever."
I beamed at his praise, even though I did exactly none of the cooking. I pointed to Clara and Tara. "I set the table, but they are the masterminds behind everything. The rest of us just followed their instructions. Our chef and sous chef extraordinaire. And before you ask, they are not available for road gigs."
Everyone laughed. I was okay with that as long as they knew I was serious at the same time.
Brock lifted his glass. "My compliments to the chefs, then."
The twins blushed and nodded their thanks. He returned his attention to me. "To answer your question, it will probably take us close to a week. We'll stop along the way and, of course, spend a day or so in Chicago when we drop Liza and Tommy off. Once I've worked everything out and found a new manager, we'll regroup and hit the road again."
The mood sobered at the mention of the manager. Even though they'd fired him, I'm sure no one wanted him dead. Well, no one in the band. I was sure of that fact. Before I could respond, the song "Bad Boys" by Bob Marley started ringing from my cell phone. I'd forgotten Mandi put that as a ringtone for Officer Faria a few months ago. She thought it was funny. I did too, at the time, but now it was embarrassing. Hopefully, only my coworkers at Smugglers' would know that meant the police were calling. "Excuse me for a moment. I need to take this."
I grabbed my phone off the bar and headed to the kitchen. This conversation required privacy. I answered right before voice mail would've picked up. "This is Lilly."
"Lilly, it's Faria. We were right." He sounded out of breath with excitement—or anxiety. I couldn't be sure.
"What did you learn?" My heart started racing, both for good and bad reasons.
"I did a search in the databases and learned that Michael Mahoney received a speeding ticket near Everett, Washington. He was heading south on Interstate 5. I had my buddy, Mac, check the flight rosters for surrounding airports. He found that Giovanni's plane landed Friday evening at Abbotsford Airport in British Columbia."
"In Canada?"
He laughed. "Is there a British Columbia in the United States?"
I stuck my tongue out at him since he couldn't see me. "Point made. So he gets in late Friday night, speeds his way south to Danger Cove, kills Donny, drives back, and then what? Unless he flew all night, how did he have time to get to Chicago and back here to Danger Cove by Saturday afternoon?"
"That's just it. He didn't fly in from Chicago. We assumed he did, since that's where the plane originated from. When I asked Mac, he said the flight path showed Abbottsford to Seattle."
"Guess that's what we get for assuming. What's next?"
Faria said something, but I didn't hear
because I heard Liza yell my name from the dining room. Something was wrong. "I gotta go. Something's happened. You should probably send a squad car."
I disconnected before he could say anything, pulled my jacket on, and slid my phone into an inside pocket. When I came through the doors, everyone was staring at Michael. He had a choke hold around Liza's neck and a gun pointed at her temple.
"You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"He was listening at the door, baby." The fear in Harmony's voice registered loud and clear.
"That's right, baby." The way he said the word made me sick to my stomach. "I was listening. Guess you discovered my little secret trip into Danger Cove before I officially arrived."
I nodded. "I did. You showed up too soon. When Freddie confirmed for me the other night that he hadn't called to tell you about Donny's death, I couldn't figure out how word spread so quickly."
His grasp around Liza tightened, and she gasped. "Please don't hurt her," I requested as calmly as I could manage under the circumstances. I didn't like her, but I also wanted to diffuse this situation as quickly as possible. I'd also like to get Michael away from the rest of my guests, so whatever it took to calm him down and resolve this, that was my plan—even if it meant helping Liza.
"I won't hurt her or anyone as long as you do what I say."
"Just tell me what you want."
"Grab my coat. The keys are in there. The three of us are going for a little ride."
"The hell she is!" Abe, who was closest to Michael and Liza, lunged toward him. A sick thud resounded through the quiet room when the butt of the gun connected with his head.
He cocked the gun and pointed it at my mother. "Get the jacket now."
I did as he said. He gestured with the gun to get me to the front door. Right before we exited, I looked at Tan and shared, "There's a smuggler in the tavern."
Michael, not realizing that was a code we used in the restaurant to indicate there was trouble and the police had been called, laughed. "Well, I'm not a smuggler, but we're leaving the tavern—now. Freddie, come with me."
"You're crazy, old man."
Michael cocked the gun again and pointed it at me. "Come with me, or she gets a bullet for the holidays."
To his credit, Freddie didn't hesitate. I appreciated his loyalty but didn't want him putting himself in danger to protect me. I couldn't figure out why Michael needed three hostages. Well, two hostages and one reluctant companion. He'd killed Donny, but I couldn't imagine him hurting his own son. Maybe I'd annoyed him enough that he just wanted to get rid of me on principle.
Freddie and I led the way, with Michael and Liza right behind. I didn't need to see the gun to know it was pointed at my head. We arrived at his rented Cadillac. Freddie and I climbed into the back while he and Liza got into the front. We sped away at an alarming speed. I pointed to the seat belt and gestured to Freddie he should put it on.
I had no doubt the police would be on the trail in less than five minutes. It was an hour ride to Seattle on the highways. Michael was crazy if he stayed on the main roads, though. I continued to stare forward while I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket. With only a quick look down, I activated the stalker app and pressed the distress button. Tan had told me that activity would send an email and text message out to everyone in my circle to let them know I was in trouble. They would then be able to track us using the GPS.
Once that was done, I slid the phone back into the pocket and hoped they found us before my battery died. We drove about fifteen minutes until we pulled into a twenty-four-hour truck stop. The moment the car stopped, Michael leaned over and pulled Liza into a steamy romance book–worthy lip lock. Je ne comprends pas! (I was convinced we were headed to Canada, so might as well brush up on my French.) I did not understand in any language and definitely did not see that coming.
"What the hell, Dad?"
I did a recount of the hostages… And then there was one. I really hated being the sole hostage. While I recalculated my chances, Michael smiled. "It's a win-win, son. Liza and I both needed to be away from the influence of the Giovanni family. When Liza told me the band was going to be this close to the Canadian border, I knew this was my shot. Old Man Giovanni even let me use his private plane to come up here. Of course, I told him I was going to see if you wanted to come work for him. What an idiot he is. Everything I've done in my life has been to keep you away from that life. But now we're going to have a fresh start. You, me, and Liza."
Michael and Liza got out of the car. He opened my door and slid the hand gripping the gun into his jacket pocket. He then gestured with the now concealed hand for me to get out. Liza grabbed bags from the trunk, and we switched vehicles. He really was a planner.
Once we were in the new ride, an old Buick, I decided it was time to get some answers. Plus it kept me from giving in to the urge to check the battery level on my phone. "How did Tommy play into all of this?"
Liza turned in the seat and flashed me a triumphant smile. "Tommy had the hots for me. When the kill order for Abe came in, Donny ordered me to do it as the final payment of my debt to the family. No way was I going to do that. I'm not a killer."
But she obviously had no problem asking other people to kill for her. Since I was the only hostage, I kept my observation to myself. "So you asked Tommy to become one?"
"Of course not. I simply shared my despair over the situation and my desire to be free from the Giovanni's grasp and be able to pursue a life with the man I love. I helped him see the merit of a plan to escape to Canada, where it would be harder for them to find me. He just didn't realize I already had the plan and he wouldn't be the one to go with me."
Love really did blind you to all reason. Tommy had been willing to kill. "How does Donny out of the way get the Giovanni family off your back?" I directed that question to Liza and the next one to Michael. "And besides being on the run with Liza, what's in it for you?"
Michael cast a quick glance at his son. "It gives me a chance to be with the woman I love and my son. Old Man Giovanni is sick. He probably has a couple years to live. With one son in prison and another dead, there will be little time to appoint and groom an heir apparent. Plus, once news of all this breaks out, he'll have to contend with ambitious underlings fighting for power. He'll have his hands too full to worry about a missing attorney and an old, unpaid debt. New identities and passports have been arranged, and we'll be starting our new life together very soon."
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Michael hadn't bothered with a passport for me. Best case scenario, they'd leave me at the border. Worst case… Yeah, not good to think about that.
"Let me out." Freddie had unbuckled his seat belt and had his fingers wrapped around the handle to the door.
"That's not going to happen."
"I wanted a relationship with you, not a new identity and a whole new life. I liked my life the way it was. You're so selfish, and you killed my friend. How do you think I could ever forgive you for that? And Liza is way too young for you. Gross!"
"Sit down, shut up, and behave. We'll talk about this later."
Freddie lunged toward his father, grabbing him around the neck. The car swerved dangerously close to the center line. While Michael dealt with his son, Liza opened the glove compartment and retrieved another gun. Shitzu! I couldn't let her hurt Freddie. I unbuckled my seat belt and reached around Freddie as the battle continued and the car swerved. I grabbed a big chunk of her hair and pulled hard, causing her to miss when she tried to hit Freddie.
The car jerked violently to the right. Fear gripped the center of my heart with vise-like strength as my view through the front window revealed a giant tree trunk. Closer…closer…closer, until a deafening crash pierced my hearing. Metal and wood combined with one sick thud, stopping the car instantly. The lack of a seat belt hurled my body forward, slamming against immovable objects—a rag doll tossed in the dryer—before my head connected wi
th something solid. My world went black.
CHAPTER THIRTY
A bright light pierced my consciousness. I breathed a sigh of relief. Bright lights equaled heaven, right? Wait. If this was heaven, that meant I was dead. I didn't want to be dead. Not when I'd discovered my family again.
"She's coming around."
I didn't recognize the voice, so heaven was still a possibility. "Oh, thank God. I need to see my baby."
That voice I did recognize. "Mom?"
A warm hand clasped mine. "I'm here, baby. Are you okay? You had us all scared."
I blinked in an effort to start waking up, and the artificial light in the room spiked the pain in my brain. "Head hurts."
"Nurse, can you add some pain meds to her IV?"
Within minutes, I started to feel some relief. Not enough to open my eyes completely but enough to ask a few questions. "Freddie?"
"He's okay. Banged up as well, but he will heal. He's young and a tough kid."
Now that I knew he was okay—at least physically—I could ask the only other question I needed an answer to right now. "What happened?"
"The Danger Cove police were tracking you thanks to that app you and Tanner have on your phones. You got a good head start, though, so they called in reinforcements. As luck would have it, some US Marshals were in the area, and they responded. They were first on the scene right after the crash. We'll talk later about why you didn't have your seat belt on, young lady." Her last statement held strong motherly undertones.
"Deal. Please continue."
"Michael and Liza had their seat belts on, so while they sustained some injuries, nothing to prevent them from being taken into custody. The Seattle police are holding them on a number of charges, including murder, conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, fraud…the list goes on. Liza let Michael in on the little detail about the guitar strings Tommy used so it would be easier to frame him. He purchased them before he even left Chicago. Can you believe that?"
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