The Keeper

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The Keeper Page 14

by Rhonda Nelson


  Jack struck. He slammed his fist into the man’s soft belly and when he doubled over, Jack twisted his arm up behind his back so hard that he heard it creak. That was for Bobby Ray, he thought. “You’re no uncle of mine,” he said, his tone lethal.

  “You’d better get off me, boy,” he said, breathing hard. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

  Jack pushed his arm up a little more. “As it happens, I do. You’re the one who doesn’t know who you’re messing with. I’m a former Army Ranger with more skills and kills under my belt than you’d ever believe. I know a thousand different ways to hurt, maim, incapacitate and otherwise make you beg for death, you mean-spirited little bitch. I’m not a street thug, Mackie,” Jack told him. “I’m a trained assassin, one of Uncle Sam’s finest, and I’ve got you—” he gave him a little shake “—in my crosshairs. I know that you’re a misdemeanor away from a felony charge and my old man and grandfather were both with the Atlanta P.D. long enough to know who to talk to to see that you go away for a long, long time.” He paused, could smell the fear on him. “Am I making myself clear?”

  “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble,” he said, immediately backtracking. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to absolve Bobby Ray Bishop of any debt and leave him the hell alone. If you or anyone associated with you comes within five miles of him—if I hear a single hair on his head has been touched or harmed in any way—I will come after you. I will hurt you. I will torture you.” Jack shoved him to the ground and pulled the soap and sock from his back pocket and slowly assembled his weapon, the same one that had been used on Bobby Ray.

  Mackie quailed and tried to scramble away, but Jack kicked him, preventing his escape. He took the sock and swung it hard against the man’s back, thinking of poor skinny, scarred-up Bobby Ray with every strike.

  Mackie howled with pain.

  Jack did it again.

  “Sucks when you’re the one getting the beating, doesn’t it, Mackie?” Jack asked conversationally. He swung again and again and ultimately had to make himself stop because he was enjoying it too much. But this was the only language a man like Mackie understood and Jack was fully capable of speaking it when he had to.

  “Call them off,” Jack said. “And stay away from Bobby Ray. Consider that my warning.”

  Jack turned and walked away, and left the man whimpering on the ground. It was fitting, he decided. That’s what he’d done to Bobby Ray.

  He’d just reached the car when his cell vibrated at his waist. He checked the display and smiled when he saw it was Mariette. “Hey,” he said, pleasure winging through his chest.

  “You were right,” she said, her voice grim.

  “I usually am, but about what this time?”

  “I’d forgotten that I took a couple of loaves of butter upstairs,” she said.

  Every sense went on point. “And?”

  “And I found an old coin in one of the loaves.”

  She sounded sick. “Mariette, we knew that he’d taken something. This doesn’t change anything.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I was just hoping that you were wrong. If he’s been stealing valuable coins from Audwin and selling them, he’s never going to be able to pay him back or get the coins back.” She swallowed. “Audwin will forgive him, I’m sure. I just don’t know if Bobby Ray will ever forgive himself.”

  Jack had wondered that, as well, but knew that was simply going to have to be a bridge they crossed when they came to it.

  “Did you find them?” she asked.

  “Not the goons, no,” he told her. “But I found Mackie. He and I reached an understanding.”

  “I’m missing a bar of soap,” she said. “Did that have anything to do with your understanding?” she asked.

  “And if it did?”

  “Then, good,” she said, surprising him. “He deserved it.”

  “You’re bloodthirsty,” he said, impressed. “I like that in a woman.”

  “And I like justice,” she said. “And big, badass men like you who aren’t afraid to mete it out when needed. You’re a good man, Jack Martin.”

  He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “You’re a good woman.”

  She chuckled. “One more lyric and we’ll have a country song.”

  “Smart-ass,” he said, laughing.

  “You liked my ass last night,” she said.

  Indeed he did. Heat pooled in his groin, making him shift behind the wheel. “You’re just trying to stir me up, aren’t you?”

  “Up works for me,” she said, her voice low, almost foggy.

  He swerved off the pavement and a car horn blared. Shit.

  “Jack?” she said, alarmed.

  “Mariette, the time for phone sex is not when I’m behind the wheel of my car on eight-five.”

  She chuckled. “Right. Sorry.”

  “You don’t sound sorry.”

  “What does sorry sound like?”

  “Repentant?”

  She tsked. “Don’t tell me you have the Catholic-schoolgirl fantasy,” she said, her voice wicked.

  He chuckled darkly. “I will pay you back,” he said. “I promise you, I will.”

  “Can I choose what sort of punishment I want?”

  She was killing him. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m hanging up now.”

  “Oooh, are you going to spank me when you get here?”

  “Who are you talking to?” He heard his sister ask.

  The line instantly went dead.

  Jack guffawed.

  BOBBY RAY FINISHED LOADING the truck with the delivery for Mariette and, sick with dread, went to let Audwin know he was leaving.

  He was absolutely certain that Jack Martin had found the coin and that it was only a matter of time before the police turned up to take him in. He’d resigned himself to it, even knew he deserved his punishment. He should have never taken anything from Audwin and wished that he could go back and undo it. Audwin had been kind to him and deserved better. Bobby Ray knew he had to be a man about this, had accepted it last night when he’d crawled into the warm bed that Jack Martin had bought for him.

  Jack had been right. A good night’s sleep, a warm meal and clean clothes had made him feel a lot better. It had given him a chance to clear his head, to come to terms with what he had to do.

  When he came back from making this last delivery, he fully intended to tell Audwin what he’d done and then turn himself in. The benefit to serving his time would be that, for the moment anyway, Uncle Mackie wouldn’t be able to get to him. Once he got out—he didn’t figure they’d keep him in there forever—he’d get as far away from Atlanta as he could. Uncle Mackie was brutal, but ultimately a businessman and pursuing him across the country wouldn’t be cost-effective. Had he not been so terrified, that would have occurred to him earlier.

  And to be fair, he hadn’t wanted to leave Audwin.

  Since Martha had passed away, the old man was just as alone and lonely as Bobby Ray had been most of his life. He’d figured they were good for one another and would miss him when he left. He’d miss Prize, too, but the dog would have to stay here. Bobby Ray could barely feed himself, much less a dog, and Prize deserved better. All of them did.

  And a man had to do what a man had to do.

  He rounded the corner and watched a familiar car bolt down the driveway, away from the house.

  His stomach dropped to his knees and he rushed into the office. “Audwin!”

  Bobby Ray ran all over the dairy and even up to the house. It wasn’t until he came back to the office that he saw the note in the middle of the desk. “The old man is going to take your punishment until you pay up.”

  Bobby Ray’s knees buckl
ed and he fell to the ground. No, he thought. No, no, no!

  Hands shaking, Bobby Ray reached into his pocket, pulled out a card and dialed the number on the front. Jack Martin answered on the second ring.

  “They’ve taken Audwin,” he said, the first tears he’d cried since he was eight years old spilling down his scarred cheeks. “I need your help. I’ll do anything,” Bobby Ray told him, his voice thick. “Anything you want me to do. Just h-help me,” he sobbed.

  14

  “I DON’T GET IT,” Charlie said. “Unless there’s some special marking that we’re missing this is just an old penny.” She looked up at Mariette. “Worth only a penny. Why would Bobby Ray take this?”

  Mariette shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he thought it was worth something. Maybe he knows more about it than we do.”

  “That’s possible,” Charlie said. “But I’ve plugged in all the data from this coin to determine its value and it’s worth a penny. If he was expecting some sort of windfall for this, then I’m afraid he’s going to be very disappointed.”

  Charlie’s cell suddenly chirped and she checked the display. Her lips curled. “Yes, big brother.” Her gaze darted to Mariette. “Yes, she’s right here. All right, I will. Keep your panties on.” She engaged the speakerphone feature. “There you go,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “Uncle Mackie’s goons have Audwin,” he said, his tone grim.

  Mariette gasped, horrified, and Charlie’s eyes rounded and she swore. “Those bastards,” she hissed. “What can I do?”

  “Charlie, I need every possible address for Mackie and his boys. Even their families. We have to find him quickly.”

  “I’m on it,” Charlie said and quickly set to work, her fingers flying over the keyboard of the laptop.

  Mariette’s mouth was bone-dry. “You think Mackie ignored your warning?”

  “No,” he said grimly. “I think this had already been set into motion before I found Mackie. That’s what makes this dangerous. He knows that I’m going to come for him, that I’ll be gunning for him. And he’ll either instruct those morons to dump Audwin off somewhere, or he’ll…”

  “Or he’ll make sure he’s never found.” The floor shifted beneath her feet.

  “How did he find out about the dairy?” Charlie asked without missing a keystroke.

  “The goons went through the garbage at the motel looking for Bobby Ray’s stuff when he never returned. Geneva, the clerk, didn’t pack up Bobby Ray’s garbage and evidently there was a check stub from the dairy that had gone into the trash.”

  “How did you find all of this out?” Mariette wanted to know.

  “Bobby Ray called me. He saw them leave and found a note that said Audwin was going to take his punishment until he paid up.”

  “Where are you headed now?” Charlie asked.

  “Back down to the track on the off chance Mackie’s still there. Doubtful, I know, but…”

  “I’m going to call the office,” Charlie said. “And give every available agent an address, Jack. There’s too many of them and there’s only one of you. Time is of the essence here, so don’t argue with me—”

  “That’s brilliant, Charlie, thanks. Mariette?”

  Charlie looked momentarily stunned at her brother’s praise, then she smiled wide, went to the landline and called Ranger Security.

  “I’m here,” she said. “What can I do?”

  “I’ve told Bobby Ray to come down to the shop. He should be there any minute now. I need you to do me a favor.”

  She swallowed, desperate to have something to do, to have a way to contribute. “Anything.”

  “He’s taken a couple of coins to a pawn shop just outside of Hiram. He’s got his tickets, but no money. If you could go pick them up, I’ll pay you back. The boy is beside himself, pitiful—” Jack’s voice broke. “He’s going to pay me back, but in the mean time he needs to be able to give those coins back to Audwin, especially after this. I can’t put him through— Do you mind fronting me the—”

  “Of course not,” she said, a lump swelling in her throat. Had there ever been a better man? A less selfish one? Mariette wondered, unbelievably moved by Jack’s gesture.

  “Tell him I’m texting the list of addresses and where each guy is going,” Charlie told her. “I’ve got seven heading out.”

  Mariette relayed the information. “I’ll get your cell number and text you from my phone so that you’ll have mine. Keep me posted, Jack. It’s going to be hell not knowing what’s going on.”

  “I will,” he said. “Thanks, Mariette.”

  “Be careful,” she said. “It would be terrible if you’d survived Baghdad only to come home and get taken out by a couple of common thugs.”

  “I’ll try not to get whacked,” he said, chuckling softly. He swore and she could practically hear his head shaking over the line. “I knew she’d told you about Baghdad.”

  “Don’t be angry at her,” she said, crouching low over the phone. “She’s proud of you.”

  “I know that, but she only knows part of the story.”

  Mariette paused. “Well, when you’re ready to share the rest of it then I’m ready to listen.”

  There was a knock at the back door and Billy Ray poked his head in. His face was wet with tears, his eyes red rimmed, his expression utterly miserable.

  “Bobby Ray’s here,” she said. “Call me when there’s news.”

  “I will.”

  Mariette disconnected, then stood up and walked over to Bobby Ray. She framed the boy’s dear face with her hands and thumbed a tear away, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It’s going to be all right, Bobby Ray,” she said and wrapped her arms around him.

  He seemed shocked at first, went completely still as though he wasn’t sure what to do—and he probably wasn’t, Mariette thought, her heart twisting with agony. God only knew the last time the kid had been properly hugged or shown any sort of affection.

  She waited, hoping he’d return the hug and, after the briefest of seconds, she felt him wrap his arms around her, his shoulders shaking with regret. “I’m sorry, Mariette. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  She shushed him, swayed with him back and forth and slid a hand down the back of his head. “It’s all right, Bobby Ray. Everybody makes mistakes. You just got into something you couldn’t find a way out of on your own. But you’ve got friends. You’ve got people who care about you. You can ask for help if you need it. There’s no shame in that.” She drew back and drew a bracing breath. “Now let’s go get those coins back, shall we?”

  “It’s a lot of money, Mariette.” He swallowed, clearly humbled. “I can’t believe he’s going to do this for me, let me pay him back. Mr. Martin is a good guy, isn’t he?”

  Mariette smiled up at him. “He’s the best.”

  And as much as it was hard to believe, given how long she’d known him…he unequivocally owned her heart.

  How in the hell had that happened?

  Hiatus, her ass. She’d gone and fallen in love with him.

  JUST AS HE’D FIGURED, Mackie had left the track and gone to ground. Jack had checked in with everyone else and so far none of them had had any luck, either. Payne had checked Goon One’s home address, McCann had taken Goon Two’s and Jamie had started working the family angle.

  It was amazing how many of these men, when faced with any sort of fear or threat, returned to their first form of refuge—behind their mother’s skirts. Which was why Jack had decided to take a little trip over to Uncle Mackie’s mother’s house. The address Charlie had found for the woman was in an affluent neighborhood, one of those gated communities with its own clubhouse and swimming pool.

  He circled the block, noting a red sports car tucked all the way in the
back, parked at an angle that had practically hidden it from view.

  But it was Uncle Mackie’s.

  The vanity plate read Bet Me.

  A slow, lethal smile slid across Jack’s lips as he pulled his truck up far enough to nudge the little car’s bumper. The fiberglass gave a gratifying crack.

  That felt good.

  Nailing that fat bastard to the wall was going to feel better. Evidently hearing the noise, Mackie raced outside, took one look at Jack and darted back into the house like a mole returning to its hole.

  Shit. He was going to have to abandon good manners.

  He bolted for the door, knocked twice and then let himself inside. A petite woman with gray hair and the straightest backbone Jack had ever seen suddenly blocked his path.

  “Can I help you?” she said archly.

  “I need to speak to your son, ma’am.”

  She poked her finger in his chest. “Now you listen here,” she said. “I don’t allow any of that damned fool betting business in my house. If you’ve got an issue with my son, then you need to take it up at the track. But it doesn’t come here.”

  “Then he shouldn’t,” Jack told her. “He’s taken an old man hostage and, forgive me, ma’am, but I’m not leaving here without getting the necessary information I need to get him back from your son.”

  She quailed, then rallied, fire lighting her gaze and she whirled around. “Morris!” she called threateningly.

  Morris? Jack heard the front door slam and took off. Mackie had barely taken five steps before Jack vaulted from the porch and launched himself at him, pinning him to the ground. Jack pulled a gun from his waistband, disengaged the safety and pressed it to the back of Mackie’s head.

  “You have to the count of five,” Jack told him, “and then I’m going to blow your brains out through your face.”

  “You wouldn’t, not in front of my mother,” Mackie said, though he didn’t sound altogether certain.

  “One.”

  “Mom!” he called frantically, trying to dislodge Jack. “Mommy!” he squealed.

 

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