Jackson reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know. Just give it time.”
We pulled up to the station.
I really, really hoped Jackson could find some answers.
As Jackson was doing another round of interrogations with the two men who’d tried to buy skimmers, my thoughts constantly turned like the ocean’s tide as I tried to make sense of things. It was no use.
When my phone buzzed with an incoming message, I welcomed the distraction.
I glanced at the screen. Another #JoeyRocks clue?
What? But Leonard was locked up. Had another member of my supposed fan club left it?
I read the numbers there: 503.
Unlike the earlier clues, those numbers told me exactly where this rock was.
Outside the police station.
I glanced back at the interrogation room where I knew Jackson was. I wouldn’t interrupt him.
No, I’d grab the rock and bring it back here for Jackson to see when he was done.
With a touch of hesitation, I headed down the hall, said a few words to the receptionist, and skirted past another officer bringing in a disorderly drunk.
Finally I stepped outside. A gust of wind greeted me, sending my hair in a wild whirlwind motion around my head.
I looked at the picture on my phone again. If I had to guess, the rock was around the corner and not here near the front of the building. I should be okay out here because I was in plain sight, where anyone could see me.
Except no one was around.
That just meant I needed to move more quickly.
As soon as I stepped out of sight, I felt something pressing into my back. Not a gun. A knife.
This had been a setup, hadn’t it?
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, trying to buy time. I straightened—though barely. One wrong move and that knife would cut through my skin.
I glanced around. No one else was back here right now. But cops came and went from this area constantly. If I could only buy myself some time.
“I know what you’re trying to do. Get in or you’ll regret it.”
Well, those options didn’t sound great.
But I also knew I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere with anyone, that it decreased my chances for survival.
I couldn’t even see the man’s face, but I somehow knew it was Currie. I recognized his voice.
He’d found me. Here at the police station.
“This is a risky move,” I muttered, still standing there as stiff as a board.
“So was the stunt you pulled earlier when you impersonated Sydney.”
So he knew about that. Interesting.
“Besides, I’m a risky kind of guy. Let’s go.”
Sweat trickled down my back. “I’d rather not.”
“I’m not playing games.”
“I’d say you are. You did leave a rock out here for me to find.” Shut up, Joey. Shut up.
Apparently talking was my norm when I thought my life was on the line. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
Like I’d never heard that line before. “Then why do you have a knife?”
He sighed. “Listen, your mom sent me. She wants to talk to you. I’d rather do this the easy way.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nausea churned in my gut as I rode with the man down the road.
My mind told me this was a really bad idea, but my curiosity propelled me on.
My mom.
Would I finally have answers about her? Why she’d left? What she’d been doing?
I had no idea. And I knew this was probably a mistake.
Yet here I was, and there was no going back.
“Where are we going?” I asked, staring at life around me. Tourists with no clue what was going on. Motorists anxious to grab food or get to the beach. Bicyclists trying to get to work on time.
No one noticed us in this older-model sedan. That was probably the idea. A fancy car would have drawn attention. But this vehicle had seen some years.
“You’ll see.”
I glanced at Currie—at his soft jaw, his hard eyes. The lack of anxiety in him right now as he executed whatever plan this was.
He was trained, I realized. A professional. And that thought didn’t bring me comfort.
“Do you know my mom?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
That wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t want a one-line pitch. I wanted the whole story. “What’s she like?”
“You ask too many questions.”
We crossed the causeway that led to Roanoke Island. “You never were staying at that house on the beach. And you finding me at the crime scene wasn’t an accident, was it?”
There was a lot more going on here than I realized.
“I was just following orders.”
“You’ve been selling credit card skimmers.” He was listening, so I might as well think aloud.
He grunted. “Maybe.”
“Isn’t there anything more productive you could do with your time? Find cures for diseases. Build houses for the poor. Bathe and feed stray dogs.”
“You need to be quiet,” he warned.
“I’m just trying to figure out what happened.” I leaned back, feeling strangely nonthreatened at the moment. “Billy was working for you as a distributor. He decided to strike out on his own. Meanwhile, I’m guessing that Morty wanted out. In fact, he had evidence against you. I’m also guessing that you stole that when you killed him.”
Currie said nothing.
“Maybe it was some skimmers with your fingerprint. Your cell number. A picture of you? I’m going to guess that when you met Morty at Blackbeard’s Pleasure, he didn’t know who he was meeting. Maybe you lured him there under the guise of another exciting job opportunity. Was that it? Except he realized later that it was you, and that’s when he got scared.”
Still nothing from Currie.
“Meanwhile, Abe is involved. You got him to take Zane’s gun. You knew a scapegoat when you saw one. So you framed Zane. And it worked out perfectly because he’d just bought that gun, he’d snuck back into the area, and he’d been at the gun range earlier in the day. I’m not sure how you knew the two of them were going to meet, but I will say that everything fell into place perfectly for you.”
And yet he still remained silent. So I kept talking.
“You also realized that Sydney was starting to work for Billy, and you couldn’t have that. She knew too much. You needed a way to frame Billy, so you stole his gun. You murdered Sydney, and you were pretty much home free after that, weren’t you? Yet you’re still here. I would have thought you’d be gone from this area.”
Why wasn’t he gone? It didn’t quite make sense.
“We’re wrapping up loose ends,” he muttered.
“I see.” Was I a loose end?
Before I could blather any more, he pulled to a stop in front of a marshy area in the middle of nowhere—and by nowhere I meant the village of Wanchese. It was a fishing community, but part of it was uninhabitable.
Like where we were now.
“Get out,” he grumbled. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
My hands trembled as I climbed from the vehicle, and the gravity of the situation hit me.
Would my mom really be here? Or was this just an elaborate setup so someone else could take me out? If that was the case, then I’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.
He started down a sandy path, and I decided to follow. I scrambled to keep up. Bugs nosedived at us, but I didn’t even care. My need for answers outweighed my discomfort.
Finally, we reached the sandy banks. Gentle waves from the Roanoke Sound lapped at our feet, and crabs darted away from us to the safety of the grasses stretching into the water
Then I waited. Anticipated. Worried.
This could either pay off big time, or I could leave here in a body bag. I knew what my vote was for.
Two people were on board. A man was behind the wheel, and a woman wearing sunglasses and a ball cap stood behind him.
The boat puttered closer and closer to the shore. I held my breath, watching as the woman hopped out the back and sloshed through ankle-deep water. Finally, she reached me.
I sucked in a breath as her features came into focus.
She looked a lot like me, except she was taller. We were both slender with long dark hair and classic features. But there was a hardness to her that I didn’t recognize. She wasn’t a nurturing mother figure. She looked like a cold-blooded killer.
When she slipped off her glasses, all the air left my lungs.
This really was my mom. Something in my gut seemed to confirm it.
How did I even greet the woman who’d abandoned me? Emotions collided inside.
She observed me a minute, and her eyes softened. “Josephine. You are one beautiful woman. I always imagined what you’d be like one day when you grew up, and you have far exceeded all my expectations.”
“You didn’t stick around long enough to find out what I’d be like,” I said, a bitter edge creeping into my voice.
Her eyebrows flounced upward. “I deserved that. I have many, many regrets in my life. You’re one of them.”
My mouth dropped open. “Me being born is one of your regrets?”
“No, dear. Leaving you behind.”
My irritation returned, stronger than ever. “That was your choice.”
“It was complicated.” She flinched ever so slightly, and her expression morphed into a scowl.
“I guess modeling didn’t take off?”
The scowl deepened. “No, it didn’t work out as I planned. I got in the wrong crowd, some might say. And now here I am.”
“You’re a Barracuda.” It disgusted me to think that someone who’d given birth to me would ever succumb to this.
“You’ve been doing your homework.” She almost sounded impressed.
My hands balled into fists so tightly that my nails cut into my skin. “How could you work with people who are responsible for horrible things?”
“We’re not horrible,” she said. “We’re working for a greater good.”
“A greater good? What kind of greater good?”
“I can’t tell you that. We aren’t even supposed to be talking. The only reason we’re meeting is because you won’t back off, and I’m here to ask you to do so.”
“Oh, my estranged mom, who I haven’t seen in more than twenty years, wants me to help her out. Of course I will.” My sarcasm bit deep, and I didn’t even care. “You’ve done so much for me.”
“Joey.” Her voice softened. “I know how this must seem, but I really am trying to look out for you.”
“You could have looked out for me by giving me advice on men or wearing bad makeup or how to avoid zits. All this advice is coming a little late.”
She stepped closer. “I’ll never be able to make up for what I did. For leaving you and your dad. But I can’t see you get hurt, Joey. Resent me all you want, but I’m the only reason you’re alive right now.”
I shivered at her words.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I finally found my voice. “Is that right?”
It was the best reply I could come up with.
“We can’t let anything get in the way of our plan, sweetheart. And you’re always right there in the middle of things. You’re too pretty to die. You have too much of life ahead of you. You should go back to Hollywood and forget all of this.”
That made me want to stay here even more.
Another thought struck me, sending a surge of hope through my veins. “Do you know where Dad is?”
Her gaze darkened, and she stepped back. “I don’t.”
I knew enough about body language, thanks to my acting coach, to pinpoint deceit. She was definitely lying to me.
“Did you do something to him?” I demanded.
“I didn’t.”
“Tell me the truth. I need to find Dad.” My voice lowered to a growl.
“It’s better if he’s hidden. He’s more likely to stay alive. The two of you are cut from the same cloth, you know.”
That didn’t do it for me. I needed to know more. “So you talked to him? He knew you were in this area? Is that what got him into whatever mess he’s currently in?”
“We were never supposed to run in to each other.” She glanced at her watch and slid her glasses back on. “I need to go. My time is up.”
Desperation clawed at me. “I need more answers.”
“You need to go back to Hollywood. The consequences are dire, Joey. I don’t know how much longer I can protect you.”
“But—”
“No. No more.” She touched my face, but I flinched. “I’ve always loved you, and I always will, despite what you might think.”
Before I could say anything else, she sloshed back through the water and onto the boat. The driver wasted no time taking off. Going . . . who knows where?
Currie turned toward me. “Let’s go.”
I’d nearly forgotten he was there, but as I looked at him now, ice-cold fear rushed through my veins.
I was still reeling from my conversation with my mom.
My mom.
She was alive. I still couldn’t believe it. Not only that, but she was involved with an international crime ring. And she was most likely a felon.
How had my life turned out like this? It was never supposed to happen this way. In all the scenarios I’d run through where I was reunited with my mom, she’d never been some type of Terminatrix.
I glanced over at Currie as we headed away from the meeting. He didn’t seem pleased, but that wasn’t unusual. His gaze was set as we started toward the causeway leading back to Nags Head. His fingers gripped the steering wheel before loosening and gripping it again.
He was nervous, I realized.
And that fact made me nervous. I needed to get out of this car. Now.
“How about you let me go here?” I nodded toward the walkway running beside the road. “I’ll walk back. I need some exercise anyway.”
“I’ll drop you off.”
“I don’t mind walking.”
“You’re not walking!” he snapped.
I swallowed hard and glanced around the car, trying to think of a way to get out of this.
He wasn’t going to drop me off and be on his merry way. I could feel the danger looming on the horizon.
“My mom will never forgive you if you hurt me,” I said, rubbing my hands on my jean shorts.
“Your mom doesn’t realize what a liability you are. You’ve seen our faces. You know too much. I have orders from the top to take care of you. The Lux will take care of your mom.”
That didn’t sound good. And who was the Lux? I’d ponder that later.
Think, Joey. Think. You’ve got to get out of this somehow.
And as always, I defaulted back to Relentless. Had Raven ever been in a situation like this? All those episodes, all five seasons, played in fast-forward through my mind before stopping on 204.
Actually, Raven had been in a similar situation with an ex-FBI agent who’d joined the mob.
I swallowed hard again. The causeway was coming up. That might be the perfect time to enact this plan.
It was now or never, I realized.
In one fluid motion, I hit the button on Currie’s seat belt, releasing his restraints. At the same time, I reached over and jammed my foot on the accelerator.
“What are you—” he started.
Before he could finish his statement, I jerked the wheel toward the cement barrier on my right. The car slammed into it.
Currie lurched forward in his seat. His head hit the windshield as the car came to a sudden halt. The vehicle was old enough it didn’t have airbags. Thank goodness. I never thought I’d say that, but airbags wou
ld have ruined my whole plan.
Horns blared, and cars swerved around us, trying to miss us.
I sucked in a deep breath as I stared at him.
It had worked.
The impact of the crash had knocked him out. Meanwhile, my seat belt had saved my life.
Good job, Joey.
But then I zoomed out on the situation.
I realized we were dangling on the edge of the bridge.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I sucked in a breath as the car shifted toward the water.
Honestly, I’d thought we’d crash against the guardrail. I’d never expected to crash through it. My problem was that I hadn’t had much time to think.
I could hardly breathe as I contemplated my options.
First, I needed to take my seat belt off.
With trembling hands, I reached down and hit the button.
As I did, the car shifted again.
I sucked in a scream.
One wrong move, and this whole vehicle was going over the edge. My head spun at the realization.
I gripped the armrest beside me and tried to control my breathing, to think clearly.
Okay, first I needed to put down my window. Then maybe I could climb out.
Maybe.
I hit the window button, but then I realized that the car’s computer system had shut down on impact. Nothing was getting any power—including the window.
Why couldn’t this be an old-fashioned car with crank windows? That would make my life too easy, wouldn’t it?
I glanced at Currie again, at his figure as it hunched over the wheel. Blood trickled from his lip and forehead, but his chest still rose and fell. He was alive but knocked out cold.
He was still unconscious. That was the good news.
Without turning my head, I could sense the crowd around me. They were all watching, waiting to see what would happen. Thankfully, no one had touched the car. If they did . . . I dreaded to think what might happen.
Hopefully someone had called 911, at least.
Okay, think, Joey. What do all those experts tell you to do in a situation like this?
I could open a door.
Blooper Freak (The Worst Detective Ever Book 5) Page 17
