by J. B. Lynn
“Do you know him?” I whispered.
“No, but he’s got a lot of ghosts with him.”
“A lot?” I asked, suddenly even more frightened than I had been.
“And they’re upset.”
That didn’t sound good. I snatched my phone from her other hand and dialed Zeke for the third time. Again, he didn’t pick up.
I considered calling the B&B to see if either of the Griswalds had returned, but I didn’t know what I’d say to them besides, “Can you come help me? The medium thinks some women are being held against their will.”
The man, who I mentally dubbed ‘Buzz’ because of his severely short haircut, disappeared inside the building.
We were about to step out of the shadows to follow Buzz when a car pulled onto the street. Pressing ourselves against the wall, we watched as two men got out alongside the building Buzz had entered.
Gypsy gasped.
I clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her from making any more noise. I may not be psychic, but I know trouble when I see it. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the two men were dangerous. “Shhh,” I whispered harshly. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
Shaking her head, two fat tears splashed on my hand. I considered letting her go, but was terrified she’d sob and draw attention to us. Instead I stood there, holding my breath, praying they’d move.
Once they’d gone inside, I removed my hand. “Do you know them?”
“Th-they killed him.”
“Your boss?”
“He’s with them.” Weak-kneed she sank to the ground, hugging her legs to her chest.
I stared at her for a long moment trying to figure out what to do. Finally I said, “I’m going to go get a closer look.”
She nodded.
“Did you want to come with me?”
She shook her head.
Swallowing hard, I squared my shoulders and crept toward the building, clinging to the shadows.
“Let me get this straight,” God whispered. “You’re unarmed, don’t have a plan, and you’re sneaking up on some murderers?”
“What choice do I have?” I whispered back.
“You could call the redhead.”
“And say what? That I think there’s something untoward going on in there? He’s already pissed at me for taking Katie out of the hospital. I’m not even sure he’d show up if I try to lead him down here on a wild goose chase.”
“At least let me go in and get the lay of the land,” the lizard offered.
I halted. That actually wasn’t a bad idea. He’d been my lookout before in equally dangerous situations and we were both still here to tell the stories.
Reaching into my bra, I gently drew him out. “You have ten minutes.”
“I can do the job in five,” he countered as I put him down on the ground. He scurried away, leaving me alone in the shadows.
To keep my mind occupied, I tried to figure out what other meaning Armani’s prediction could mean. After all, she once told me to “meet the man” which hadn’t meant I should meet Paul, the guy God referred to as my “homicidal boyfriend” like I’d thought. What it had actually meant was that I needed to pick up a leg of lamb and use it as a club on Gary the Gun, a naked, tumescent, blackmailing assassin.
I kept mentally rearranging the Scrabble letters I’d pulled into as many permutations as I could think of. I came up with: Dire Wed
Dire Dew
Wed Ride
Wed Drew
Rewired
Ewe Ride
Red Wire
Err Wide
I Dew Err
I decided I Dew Err was probably the most likely choice, but I didn’t know if it meant that Armani was the one who erred, or if I was the one who was screwing up. Lord knows I did enough of that on a daily basis.
It seemed like hours, but was probably only a minute or two before someone crossed my path, but it wasn’t the snarky reptile, it was Buzz. Only this time he wasn’t carrying his knapsack. He was in such a hurry to get out of there that he didn’t even notice me standing a few yards away.
He practically sprinted for his car and tore away, tires squealing, leaving the scent of burnt rubber in his wake.
“Where are you?” I muttered into the darkness, hoping the lizard would reply.
“I’m here,” Gypsy whispered from right behind me.
“Aaaah!” I shouted, startled.
“Shhh!”
“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” I clutched my chest, feeling like my heart was going to beat its way right out of it.
“What are you waiting for?” Gypsy asked.
For a split second I considered confessing to the medium that I have the ability to talk to animals, and had sent my niece’s pet lizard ahead as a scout, but then I thought better of it. “I meant Zeke,” I lied smoothly. “I’m waiting for Zeke.”
“We can’t wait for him.”
“We can’t go barging in there.”
Gypsy gasped horrified, “I can’t go in there. The place is full of ghosts.”
“It’s going to have more ghosts if you don’t do something.” God’s voice came from out of nowhere. “There’s a bomb.”
“There’s a bomb,” I told Gypsy.
“How do you know?”
“It was in the knapsack of the man who left,” God told me.
“That guy didn’t carry out his bag,” I said to Gypsy.
“Here,” I thrust the phone at her. “Go back to the car and call 9-1-1.”
“Nobody’s calling nobody,” a menacing male voice said from behind us.
Gypsy raised her arms in surrender.
Before I knew what was happening, the phone had been snatched away and something small and hard was being thrust into my ribs.
“Inside,” our captor growled.
“You officially suck as a lookout,” I muttered to God.
“I’m sorry,” Gypsy said as we were ushered into the building.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“Shut up,” our captor ordered.
The bright lights in the warehouse temporarily blinded me. Shading my eyes, I blinked, trying to focus.
Then I was sorry I had.
In the middle of the floor was a large cage like you’d expect to see in a zoo. But there were no exotic animals in the enclosure. There were teenage girls, in various states of undress, clutching the bars, hoping for escape.
“The bomb’s on the door,” God said. “He looped it through the lock. These two morons didn’t even see him do it.”
“What the hell is that squeaking noise?” One of the men we’d seen leave their car and enter the building approached.
I assumed that his partner-in-crime was the thug trying to embed a gun in my ribcage.
“You have three minutes,” God called from further away. “Two-fifty-nine, Two fifty-eight.”
“There’s a bomb,” I told the thugs. “Over there. On the cage.”
“You’re going to have to come up with something better than that,” the guy facing us said.
“No. Really. Check it out,” I pleaded desperately.
“Two-forty-seven,” God called.
“Check it out,” the guy with the gun ordered his cohort.
Grumbling, the other man strolled toward the cage. The girls in the cage all recoiled, backing as far away as possible.
“Two-thirty-eight,” God said. “If you don’t do something, they’re all going to die.”
“I could use some help,” I told him through gritted teeth.
And then help arrived in the form of avenging angels. Okay, they weren’t angels. For a second I thought they might be deadly ninjas, but then I realized they were a highly trained team of four men. Dressed all in black, ski masks covering their faces, they swooped in, from where I don’t even know, and took out the two guys without breaking a sweat.
Two took Gypsy and hustled her toward the exit.
Another grabbed my arm, propelling me in the same
direction. Yanking free of his grip, I shouted, “There’s a bomb.” I ran toward the cage.
“Help us!” the girls cried. “Let us out.”
I stared in horror at the bomb attached to the door, just as God had said. It looked deadly with its bright flashing lights and multi-colored wires.
“Two minutes, fifteen seconds,” the lizard intoned.
“Get out of here,” I told him.
“Ma’am you’ve got to get out of here,” one of the ninja team members urged.
“Oh shit,” the other muttered.
“Oh shit?” I asked. “What kind of rescuer says ‘oh shit’?”
“There’s no time,” he replied.
“One-fifty-seven,” God counted down.
“There’s almost two minutes,” I argued. “Just turn it off.”
“We can’t just turn it off,” the rescuer. “If we pull the wrong wire, the whole place will go up.”
The girls were crying and begging for their lives so loudly it was hard to hear him.
He looked me in the eye. “There’s nothing we can do.”
I shook my head, refusing to believe him.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” He and his partner each grabbed one of my arms and started dragging me toward the exit.
“No!” I shouted, resisting them, struggling to break free. “No!”
The girls screamed.
“You can’t let them die,” I begged.
“We can’t save them,” one of the men ground out. “We can save you.”
“God!” I yelled. “God, help me!”
“God help us all,” the man muttered.
A high-pitched whistle cut through the bedlam, shocking everyone. The girls quieted. My “saviors” halted in their tracks.
“You know what to do, Maggie.” God’s voice rang out in the midst of the sudden void of silence.
“I don’t,” I sobbed. “I don’t know.”
“Armani told you. She just got the order wrong, she said---” the rest of his words were drowned out by the girls who started pleading hysterically for their lives to be saved.
It wasn’t God who saved the day. It was Doomsday. She barreled into the warehouse at top speed, knocking over first one of my “saviors” then the other.
Once I was free of their grip, I rushed back toward the cage. “Get out of here,” I ordered her. “Go back to the car.”
I was sort of shocked when she obeyed.
I looked at the blinking timer on the bomb. There was less than thirty seconds left.
“God? God, where are you?”
I couldn’t hear him, but I did remember what he’d said. ‘Armani told you.’
Drew Ire
Dire Wed
Dire Dew
Wed Ride
Wed Drew
Rewired
Ewe Ride
Red Wire
“Red Wire,” I said. A sudden sense of calm came over me as the remaining time ticked away.
“Run!” One of my saviors shouted, heading for the door himself.
“I believe in Armani’s predictions,” I said, reaching for the bomb. My fingers trembled as they touched the red wire. “I have faith.”
“Then pull the blasted thing,” God boomed, “before we all get blown to Hell.”
Closing my eyes, I murmured, “I love you, Katie.” Then I yanked.
Nothing happened.
I opened one eye and squinted at the countdown display. It had stopped…with eight seconds to spare.
Leaning weakly against the bars of the cage, I said, “I did it. It worked.”
I wasn’t sure whether I was reassuring myself or the girls.
“Took you long enough,” God groused.
I opened my mouth to tell him off, but then all hell broke loose.
Again.
Chapter Fourteen
A stampede of people thundered into the warehouse, guns drawn, shouting at the top of their lungs. Stunned, I just watched them. These were no stealthy, black-clad ninja rescuers. If their vests were to be believed they were with the police and FBI.
“On your knees!” they shouted. “Show us your hands.”
I looked behind me to see whom the command was directed at. I didn’t see anyone.
“Kneel, stupid biped,” God roared. “Or are you trying to get us both killed?”
Finally realizing they were yelling at me, I dropped to my knees and raised my arms overhead, wondering what they thought I’d done.
“She saved us,” one of the girls yelled.
“Leave her alone,” another girl shouted.
“Stand down,” a familiar voice ordered.
Keeping my hands in the air, I swiveled my head in the direction of his voice.
FBI agent Griswald stared at me. “My brother told me you seem to have a knack for getting into trouble, Ms. Lee.”
He had no idea.
“Get the bomb techs in here to look at this,” someone yelled.
Griswald stalked over to me and held out a hand. “It’s okay, you can get up.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “My legs feel like jelly.”
He studied my face carefully while giving me a boost to a standing position and leading me away from the cage. “Care to explain how you ended up here?”
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but explaining my way out of this was going to be tricky. “How did you…?” I waved my hand to encompass the chaos of the warehouse.
“Your friend Armani is very persuasive,” Griswald explained. “She was convinced you needed help. She said you and that Gypsy woman had returned to the Bed & Breakfast looking for me.”
I nodded slowly.
“But she didn’t know exactly why.”
“We didn’t tell her,” I said slowly.
“Didn’t tell her what?”
I looked at the girls in the cage. Most of them had sunk to the floor, exhausted by their ordeal. They watched a man in a heavy vest, who I assumed was the bomb tech, examining the device that kept them imprisoned.
“Where’s Gypsy?” I asked.
“I was going to ask you that very question,” Griswald said.
“Two of the ninjas took her.”
He cocked his head to the side and looked at me like he thought I should be sharing a room with my mother in the nuthouse. “Ninjas?”
I was saved from having to explain by another agent who walked up to Griswald and whispered in his ear before handing him a cell phone. Griswald identified himself to the caller and then scowled as he listened to the person on the other end of the call.
His eyes flicked over me with a mixture of astonishment and respect. “Understood,” he said, before disconnecting the call. “Do you need a ride?” he asked me.
“A ride?” I asked, thoroughly confused, having been expecting the third degree.
“I can get someone to take you home…or wherever,” he offered.
“Don’t ask questions,” God hissed from his hiding spot. “Just get out of here.”
“My car is nearby,” I told Griswald.
“Okay.” Without another word, he turned away from me and strode toward the bomb technician who was gingerly removing the device from the door.
“Go. Go!” God urged.
I didn’t need to be told twice. Snaking my way between the law enforcement officers that blocked my path to the door, I made my escape.
Once I was on the street, it took all my self-control not to break into a dead run to the car.
“What the hell was that?” I muttered as I hurriedly turned the corner.
“Luck?” God suggested.
“Have you met me? Do you really think I’m the lucky type?”
“Some might say it was lucky the grammatically-challenged, slobbering beast showed up when she did,” the lizard opined. “Then again, I did call her, so I guess it wasn’t just luck.”
“How the hell did she get out of the car? Did she break one of my windows? Glass claims ar
e such a hassle,” I groused, thinking about the number of claims I’d taken for auto glass claims at my job at Insuring the Future.
The car was now within sight. The big dog was sprawled over the hood.
“Maggie!” the Doberman barked excitedly when she saw me. Jumping off the car, no doubt leaving scratches in the paint, she raced toward us.
“Okay you are?” she panted, nuzzling my hand with her nose.
“Everybody’s okay,” I told her as I circled around the car looking for broken glass. I didn’t see any. “How did you get out of the car?”
“Dog old. Trick new,” she told me excitedly.
“Huh?”
“An old dog can learn new tricks,” the lizard translated. “I taught her how to open the door.”
“You taught a dog how to open a car door?” I looked at DeeDee suspiciously. After all, this was the same mutt who’d peed on my neighbor’s Welcome Mat thinking it was grass.
“I can perform miracles,” God declared haughtily. “Now can you drive us home? All this adventure has left me ravenous and unless one of the two of you is going to catch a cricket for me, I may starve to death if I don’t get back there soon.”
“Starve no,” DeeDee laughed, showing all her teeth.
“Easy for you to say,” the lizard sulked. “You got to eat ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” DeeDee asked, looking at me hopefully.
“No more ice cream,” I told her. “Get in the car.”
I opened the rear door and she happily jumped in. Climbing behind the steering wheel, I said, “We can’t go home. I have to find Gypsy.”
As though someone had heard my plan, my cell phone rang. Glancing at the display, I saw an unfamiliar number. Since Patrick usually called from different phones, and since the last time we’d spoken he’d accused me of being deficient in the impulse control gene, I answered with a noncommital, “Hey.”
“Maggie?”
It took me a split second to place the voice. “Zeke?”
“It’s me.”
“I’m so sorry. I lost Gypsy. These ninja guys swooped in, and there was a bomb, and then the FBI, and—” I blathered.
“Take a breath, Maggie,” he interrupted.
I sucked in some air as he suggested.
“Gypsy’s fine. She’s safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“But—“
“Don’t ask questions, Maggie. Go home. Go to bed.”
