A Honeybun and Coffee [Honeybun Hunks Series: Book 1]

by Sam Cheever

  Brita stood up and started clearing the table. “Too many. We have our own unique way of exercising them all."

  The dogs apparently knew what time it was because they all surged to their feet and started hopping around, barking and wagging their tails. Moxie and Jaws lined up in front of the door, Jaws taking his cue from the pretty little red haired dog.

  Percy grabbed two soccer balls out of a basket by the door, a big one and a small one, and opened the back door, giving the little dogs a head start. He threw the smaller soccer ball out and they tore after it, their stubby little legs pumping hard in the effort to get there first.

  Brita let the bigger dogs out of the laundry room and they charged out the door, knocking a chair over in their enthusiasm and almost toppling Percy.

  Then Alastair and Percy followed them into the yard, with Percy claiming he wanted the biggest dog, Freddie, on his team. “He's the best defender in the group. With my offensive skills we'll clean the field with you."

  Angie just shook her head at them, laughing. Then she went outside to join in the game.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  The phone rang in the quiet office and the man sitting behind the desk swiveled from his view of the city to look at it. After the fourth ring he reluctantly reached out a hand to grab it. “Yes."

  "Have you found them?"

  The man ran a hand over his face in frustration. “Not yet."

  Silence met this admission. “You know it will serve my purposes either way, whether you find them before they squawk or not."

  The man behind the desk swiveled back to the window. His thoughts tangled in his head as he quickly assessed all angles of the current, desperate situation. Finally he whispered, “I know."

  The voice on the other end lost its belligerence. “Have you talked to the girl?"

  "No. I'm going to do that tonight. She won't be cooperative, I know her."

  A soft chuckle moved through the phone line. “It would be a shame to have to kill her."

  Despite his years of corruption the man behind the desk felt his throat knot up at this. “That won't be necessary."

  "Let's hope not. You've botched this one badly, my friend. If you think you're just going to walk away now, after all the years we've been doing business together, you'd better think again. Those men you borrowed from me still know who their first loyalty belongs to. You don't want to cross me."

  The man closed his eyes, blocking out the flickering lights of the city beyond the window. “I have no intention of crossing you. I'm not stupid."

  Again the soft chuckle. “Well, that still remains to be seen doesn't it? Keep me informed."

  The man sat behind his desk for several minutes after he'd hung up the phone, staring into the sparkling night landscape of the city as if for answers. Finally he picked up the phone again and dialed her cell.

  The thug that answered was the one who'd been compromised at the bar. “Yeah."

  "Give the phone to her."

  Sounds of shuffling ensued, then the girl's voice came across the line. “What do you want?"

  He sighed inaudibly. It would be the same. Always the same between them. “I want you to listen for once.” Then, realizing he was just going to antagonize her, he pinched his lips together and started over. “Look, I'm really in a bind here. I just need you to stay out of sight for a while until the right decisions are made and then you'll be released."

  "Go to hell."

  "Debra..."

  "No. You listen to me for once. I don't really care what you've gotten yourself into. I care that you've involved me in it. As soon as you spring me I'm gonna sing like a canary."

  "You don't want to do that."

  "Actually I think I do."

  "I'm not the only one affected by this you know. My partner will have you killed. You'd better think about whether getting revenge on me for my screw-ups is worth dying for."

  Silence met this statement. He held his breath, praying he'd gotten through to her.

  "That's a tough one. I'll give it some thought."

  "You do that."

  Long after he'd hung up he sat in the darkened office staring out at the Indianapolis skyline, wondering when things had gotten so complicated.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Six

  "The girl was hanging out with some pretty screwed up people.” Brita shuffled the pages on her desk and pulled up the one that listed the girl's known associates who had danced across the line between law abider and law breaker. The list was fairly long.

  "Give me some examples.” Percy picked up a pencil and turned the phone on his desk so he could hear her better.

  "Well, the biggest one I can see is her boyfriend. He's ten years older than she is and, although he's technically clean, he has some really bad associates."

  "Like?"

  "Like he works for Mr. Bigg for starters."

  Percy whistled through his teeth. “That's pretty bad."

  "We'll need to check him out."

  Percy's pen slid across the pad of paper in front of him. He frowned. “Mr. Bigg goes on trial this month. We've already lost a couple of witnesses. One was beaten nearly to death and the other just disappeared. Having the DA dismissed will just about quash any chance at a trial for the near future."

  "Unless there's a change of venue."

  Percy nodded. “That might be what they're hoping for. At the very least it will get Bigg out of an area where everybody knows what a slime he is and whoever gets the case will need to build it again from the bottom up. And to make things worse, Bigg's organization runs so wide and deep that you can't totally rule out the possibility that he has somebody in place with the police as well as in this office."

  Brita sighed. “So we don't know who we can trust."

  "That's about the size of it. We'd better keep our investigative team small."

  "How small?"

  It was Percy's turn to sigh. “Really small. Like you and me."

  They were both silent for a moment while they digested this idea. Then Brita cleared her throat. “Um, I hate to say this but I think we'll need to get your brothers involved."

  Percy's initial reaction was to reject the idea. But on some level he knew she was right. “We'll give that some thought."

  Brita opened her mouth to press her argument but realized it would be futile. He'd come to the right conclusion eventually. She'd give him the time he needed to come to grips with the idea of endangering his family. She wasn't keen on bringing his brothers into a potentially dangerous and politically explosive situation either, but she knew they could handle themselves and she'd trust every last one of them with her life if it came to that.

  Finally she said simply, “I won't press it right now but we could definitely use their skills."

  "Noted. But for now, I'm going to see the DA in about an hour. Want to tag along?"

  She grinned, “Just try and stop me."

  * * * *

  * * * *

  DA Burns’ office was large and well appointed. Like DA Burns. He lounged negligently behind a highly polished mahogany desk, glaring at Brita and Percy. His thick, graying black hair was perfectly combed, thick on the top and shorter on the sides, tapering to his neck at just the right length to give him a slightly seedy if not entirely disreputable look. He puffed a fat cigar and refused to answer Brita's most recent question, which was, why did he think his daughter had been snatched.

  His fat cheeks puffed in and out around the cigar and he seemed to take great pleasure in sending smoke toward them across his desk.

  Brita tried again. “DA Burns, can you think of any reason someone would kidnap your daughter?"

  He shrugged naturally padded shoulders and reached a square, olive toned hand up to drag the cigar out of his mouth. He pounded it against the ashtray without speaking, and then laid it down, presumably to finish later. Finally he looked at Percy as if Brita weren't in the room. “I'm guessing they want money.
They haven't told me yet."

  Brita had met his kind before, she hadn't gotten where she was in a male-dominated world without knowing how to deal with it. “Will you pay the ransom?"

  He flicked dark eyes in Brita's direction and gave her an oily smile. “Of course. It's my daughter."

  His tone of voice said she was stupid for asking, but his demeanor told her he didn't much care that his daughter had been kidnapped.

  Percy nodded. “Of course you'd want to get your daughter back, sir. You love her right?"

  DA Burns shrugged noncommittally.

  Percy slid a quick glance toward Brita. Her answering look told him they were both thinking the same thing. “You and your daughter have had some problems I guess?” Brita leaned toward him, letting him know with her body language that she wouldn't be ignored.

  He turned the full force of his dark gaze on her. “Ms. Muldane, my daughter has been a consummate pain in my ass for years. She does everything she can to embarrass and undermine me and I've been bailing her out of one kind of trouble or another for years. This is just another in a long line of bail outs."

  Brita's eyes were incredulous. “Certainly you don't blame her for this?"

  He shrugged. “If you'll excuse me I'm very busy."

  Percy smiled. It was not a nice smile. “Busy doing what sir? All your cases have been reassigned until this is resolved."

  The DA's dark eyes narrowed angrily at Percy and he stood up, his massive stomach barely clearing the desk as he levered himself upward. “My schedule is no concern of yours, Honeybun. I assume you know the way out?"

  Percy stood too, but Brita stayed seated. “DA Burns, do you think it's possible that someone did this to keep you from prosecuting them?"

  He didn't bother to trim the annoyance from his tone when he turned to her and responded. “I don't see why anyone would do that Ms. Muldane. After all, if I don't prosecute someone else will."

  "Your cases are fairly high profile. Maybe someone wanted to limit the limelight on their trial."

  His lips spread in a smug smile. “Anything I would say to you at this time would be pure speculation, Ms. Muldane. I'm not interested in speculation. When I hear from the kidnappers I'll be in touch."

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Angie sat on the couch, her lap covered in small dogs, and twitched. She'd never been more bored or felt more restless in her life. She was tired of waiting for other people to bring her stuff and do for her. She'd always been self-sufficient and driven and it dragged on her to be rudderless and unfocused now.

  She looked at Alastair for about the hundredth time that morning and frowned. He was bent over his laptop with a phone at his ear, working. Apparently it didn't hurt him at all to be on the lam. It just wasn't fair. She thought about calling the coffee shop again but the last time Petey had snapped at her that she was driving him crazy and he was too busy to babysit her phobias. After getting her back up at the snotty response, she had to admit he had a point. She knew the coffee shop was in good hands. She was just bored and restless.

  Finally she made a decision. Moving the two sleeping daschunds carefully off her lap and placing them in a warm pile in the middle of the couch, Angie headed up the stairs to her room. She was going to get dressed and go to her apartment for her stuff. She was tired of letting a couple of thought challenged thugs run her life. She was taking it back.

  When she came back down the stairs Alastair was off the phone. She walked over to him and held out a hand. “Can I have the car keys please?"

  He looked up, his sexy blue eyes filled with unspoken questions.

  She bristled, not wanting to be talked out of her errand. “I need to get out of here for a while. I'm going stir crazy."

  He stared at her for a beat longer and then nodded. “Me too. Let's go get your stuff."

  She jerked in surprise. She'd been ready for a battle. “Really?"

  He smiled. “I thought you'd never ask. I was going bonkers myself."

  Angie grinned. “You hide it well."

  He shrugged. “I'm rarely in my office normally. I tend to visit my clients face to face as much as possible. Sitting here all day has put a serious crimp in my style."

  Angie followed him out of the house and into the rental car. They pulled away from the curb and started toward her apartment. She turned hopefully to him. “Maybe we can stop at the shoppe too, so I can make sure everything's okay."

  He smiled without turning. “Petey will be thrilled."

  She punched him on the arm but couldn't hold back a grin. He didn't miss much.

  They turned the corner at the end of Brita's street and headed toward town. They sat for a few minutes in contented silence and then Angie started fumbling with the radio. She turned her favorite talk radio show on and sat back with a smile, enjoying herself more than the outing warranted just because she was moving under her own steam again.

  Alastair listened to the radio program for a few beats, casting looks at her which she ignored, and then reached over to change the station to something that was more rock than music. He sat back with a smile.

  Angie cast him a few looks and then reached over to change it back to AM.

  A scuffle ensued as they made it a contest to see who would have the last word. Angie placed her finger on the AM button, giggling like an idiot, and refused to let go. Alastair grabbed the finger and tried to dislodge it, taking care not to hurt her, which she was happy to use to her advantage.

  They were deeply engaged in these radio wars when the first impact shook the car, wrenching them violently toward the windshield. Alastair's head jerked around just in time to see the dark blue SUV moving around them to get on the inside lane. “Holy shit!"

  Angie's eyes registered the SUV and then took inventory of the highway. There was no one within a couple of miles of them. The thugs had chosen their time of attack well. “They're gonna hit us again!” She screamed.

  Alastair hit the gas hard and they surged forward, but the underpowered rental had no chance at all against the powerful SUV the thugs were driving. They pulled ahead for a couple of seconds but quickly lost their lead.

  As soon as the SUV came alongside it swerved toward them. Alastair jerked the wheel toward the shoulder and managed to avoid the worst of the hit. The SUV's oversized rearview mirror scraped the driver's side window and Alastair jerked his head back instinctively.

  As the big car swerved back for another try, Alastair slammed his foot on the brake pedal and then immediately swerved the car into the inside lane, ending up behind them. Then he accelerated and screamed, “Brace yourself!"

  They slammed into the back of the SUV and then dropped back. Alastair swung the wheel and pulled off the highway as the SUV hit the stone shoulder and wobbled, trying to regain control.

  They flew up the off ramp and Alastair took a right turn at the top, heading away from the highway so they could get lost in the maze of quiet side streets.

  Angie took a deep breath and sat back, relaxing a bit as Alastair slowed down and they put distance between them and the thugs. “Holy crap! Where'd you learn to drive like that?'

  He turned to her and smiled, clearly invigorated by the encounter. “My brother Warwicke's a race car driver."

  Angie's eyes grew round, “Warwicke Honeybun is your brother!"

  Alastair groaned. “Oh here we go."

  "Oh my god! You have to introduce me!"

  He shook his head and smiled. “And I've officially joined the ranks of yesterday's garbage."

  Angie laughed shakily. “Not quite, you still have a use you know. I can use you to get to Warwicke."

  Alastair gave a bark of laughter and turned into a large parking lot. Angie looked up and realized they were at the mall. “You're stopping! Are you sure it's safe?” She cleared her throat, realizing her voice had attained a slightly shrill tenor. Her hands clenched the dash and her gaze swung wildly as they drove more deeply into the parking lot and Alastair found a parking spo
t.

  "This is the best place I can think of to get lost. And...” He turned an apologetic look in her direction, “I'm afraid you'll have to buy the stuff you need. Obviously the thugs haven't given up on us and the first place they'll look is our homes. It's not safe to go there."

  She sighed, thinking of all the little things she would have to do without. But she nodded, knowing he was right. “That's better than nothing."

  They shopped companionably for an hour. Once Angie's heart rate returned to normal, she was pleasantly surprised by Alastair's ability to speak the native language of shopping and his exquisite taste in clothes. He was right, his shopping skills were definitely a mark in his favor.

  They worked their way toward the food court to get a snack. Sitting down at a small, round table in the middle of hundreds of busily moving people they were relaxed as they bit into their soft pretzels. Alastair reached across the table and flicked a large grain of salt off Angie's chin. “You really looked good in those black jeans."

  She smiled around a bite of pretzel, flushing warmly. “Thanks.” She mumbled when her mouth was empty again. “I like that sweater you got too. It looks good with your eyes."

  They grinned at each other, feeling a little bit silly but not entirely uncomfortable. Alastair couldn't help feeling that, had he met the woman across from him under different, less stressful conditions, he would have liked her. Even if she hadn't saved his life and jumped right into the frying pan with him.

  They watched the people around them as they ate, occasionally smiling over something and making comments about some unsuspecting shopper in the mall.

  Angie enjoyed the way his dimples showed when he chewed and the way the muscles in his neck flexed as he drank his cola. She pretty much just liked everything about the way he looked and she couldn't seem to drag her eyes away from him. She tried not to get caught staring at him, but occasionally his blue gaze would swing her way unexpectedly and, when it did, it would be followed by a slow, knowing smile that made her all warm and tingly.