Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1)

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Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1) Page 35

by Rachel Woods


  “You can’t stay here,” D.J. said, stalking into the kitchen. “You don’t know if Bermudez is coming back. You don’t know if he’s still staying at this place.”

  “There are dirty dishes in the sink,” Sione said, pointing at a plate littered with crumbs. “And there’s food in the refrigerator. He’s coming back, and I’m going to be waiting for him.”

  D.J. shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t care what you think,” Sione said. “I am not leaving, but you can go. I don’t need you to stay here and keep me company. Didn’t even want you to come in the first place.”

  “So now you don’t need my help anymore?”

  “I know you don’t want to be here,” Sione said. “You think I’m wasting my time looking for her. You think she snuck away in the middle of the night because whatever scam she pulled is over and she’s moving on to the next dumb asshole stupid enough to believe her lies.”

  Exhaling, D.J. said nothing, but he didn’t have to. His disapproving scowl said it all, loud and clear.

  “Spencer didn’t leave because she wanted to,” Sione said. “Somebody took her, and I know Ben is the reason she’s gone. He probably told Bermudez to grab her.”

  “Grab her for what?” D.J. asked, frowning. “You keep saying Ben took her. Why would he do that?”

  “Because that’s what Ben does to women,” Sione said. “He uses them and then he discards them.”

  “So, Ben told Spencer to make the Xanax box deliveries, which she did,” D.J. said. “And now he wants to get rid of her because she did what he told her to do? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “You think Spencer knows something about the deaths of Maxine Porter, Karen Nelson, and Carla Garcia,” Sione said. “Well, maybe Ben thinks so, too. Maybe Ben doesn’t want Spencer to tell the cops what she knows about the murders because she knows those women are dead because of Ben.”

  It wasn’t an outright lie, Sione told himself. Maxine Porter, Karen Nelson, and Carla Garcia had been killed because of the deal they’d made with Ben. Technically, Ben bore some responsibility because he’d convinced the women to go against Richard. A stupid mistake that had cost them their lives.

  What he’d told his cousin wasn’t too damn far from the truth, but he couldn’t tell D.J. anything about Moana.

  How could he explain that Moana hadn’t died in some prison fight? How could he explain that Moana’s demise had been orchestrated by Richard, who’d helped her fake her death so she could get out of jail and kill for him? A claim Sione still found hard to accept and damn near impossible to believe.

  “I think Ben wants to get rid of Spencer so she won’t go to the police.”

  “All right, fine,” D.J. said. “Give me the address to the house in Shawville. I’ll go back there and take a look around. Maybe I can find something that might give us an idea of where she is.”

  chapter 102

  San Ignacio, Belize

  Location Unknown

  Night descended. Thick blackness poured into the small, hot room, filling every corner and crevice. Not even a sliver of light from the moon managed to make its way through the window. The darkness converged on Spencer, as though it had swallowed her whole. Painful memories contaminated her mind.

  Spencer felt like she was seven years old again, alone in the dark apartment, scared, sad, and confused. After her mother had left her, the sound of the door slamming ricocheted in her head, terrifying and confusing. She didn’t understand why her mother had left. She had been afraid something bad had happened to her mother.

  Bugs chirped and buzzed, whizzing by her face. She whipped her head left and right, unable to swat them away. Insects landed on her skin, and she was forced to jerk and twitch to get the unseen bugs off her. The smell of damp earth and stale urine assaulted her nostrils. Night sounds abounded, a swelling chorus of rustling, scurrying, and scampering.

  She closed her eyes and drew her knees up to her chest, praying through her tears that she would be rescued, even if maybe she didn’t deserve to be saved—even if this was her punishment for all her mistakes. She prayed she wouldn’t die, alone and abandoned, in the small, hot room.

  Terrorized, she imagined her dead body would be left behind by Tommy Fong and soon forgotten, left for the vultures that would pick at her skin and muscle until she was nothing but bones. A skeleton bleached by the sun, she would be found years after her death, accidentally stumbled upon by tourists. Her remains would go unidentified, while miles away, her sisters would always wonder what had happened to her. Rae and Shady would hold out hope for her return and yet know in their hearts that they would never see her again.

  Leaning her head against the wall behind her, Spencer sobbed bitterly, vehemently.

  She would have faded from John’s memory. He would have moved on. He would have found a woman to be Mrs. Tuiali’i and had children with her. Spencer would never cross his mind. He would have given up trying to figure out what had happened to her.

  Had he already given up, Spencer wondered.

  By now, John had to know she was missing. She hadn’t come home from the art show. Did he suspect something bad had happened? Or did he think she was some criminal who’d had to flee Belize because she’d learned the cops were on her trail?

  Shivering, despite the humidity, Spencer thought back to the day when she’d first met John. He’d beat up Tommy Fong for her, and he hadn’t even known her. He had fought for her. No other man had ever done that before.

  John had been willing to fight her battles, even though he hadn’t known if she was worth the trouble or not. He was the kind of guy girls dreamed of meeting but never did. Not just tall and good-looking, but brave and compassionate, a man who did keep his promises, it turned out.

  John was the kind of guy she might actually become “that wife” for.

  chapter 103

  San Ignacio, Belize

  Location Unknown

  “Where your boyfriend, bitch?” Tommy Fong teased, goading her. “Why he not come to save you yet?”

  Dawn had broken as night slowly faded away, leaving behind a pall of gloom. Spencer realized she must have slept despite the insects, the darkness, and the cacophony of buzzing and scurrying.

  Opening her eyes, Spencer stared at Fong. He stood near the door, holding a large plastic bowl in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He walked to the mattress, crouched down, and then sat in the dirt, legs folded. Shrinking away from him, Spencer eyed the contents of the bowl.

  Fruit. Chunks of pineapple mixed with slices of banana. Her stomach responded, growling. When was the last time she’d eaten? She didn’t really remember. She didn’t even know how long she’d been in the small, hot room. Two days? Three? Forever?

  Fong twisted the cap off the bottle of water and held the opening toward her. “Drink.”

  Spencer turned her face away, though she was thirsty and her mouth dry. She didn’t trust him and was surprised by, and suspicious of, his gesture. How could a man who’d beat her to within an inch of her life offer her water to quench her thirst? And how could she accept after his brutal cruelty?

  Still, she parted her lips and allowed the lukewarm water to stream into her mouth. After she drank half the bottle, Fong took it away, replaced the cap, and set the bottle next to the mattress. He picked up the bowl of fruit.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, having already decided she would refuse the food despite her stomach’s rumblings. It could be spoiled or contaminated, teeming with some microscopic bug. Last thing she needed was a case of the runs.

  “You got to eat, bitch,” he said, spearing a piece of pineapple with a plastic fork he pulled from the pocket of his dirty, weather-beaten jeans. “You cannot starve to death. You no good dead.”

  “What are you talking about?” She stared at him, cautioning herself against any rising hopes. His words seemed to suggest he needed to keep her alive for some reason. But she had doubts. He could be lying.
He might still kill her. “What do you mean I’m no good if I’m dead?”

  “Eat,” he insisted, thrusting the pineapple toward her mouth.

  Wary, Spencer opened her mouth and clamped her teeth down on the chunk of fruit, pulled it from the plastic tines, and chewed. After she swallowed, she asked, “Why did you kidnap me?”

  “No questions.” He stabbed a slice of banana and then held it inches from her mouth. “Eat.”

  She accepted the banana, chewed, swallowed, and then asked, “Did Ben tell you to kidnap me?”

  “Not Ben,” Fong grunted.

  “It wasn’t Ben?” Spencer stared at him, her pulse jumping. “Then who the hell was it? Who told you to—”

  “Richard,” Fong said. “He the Goddamn devil.”

  Spencer stared at him, a strange jolt slicing through her.

  Richard. She knew the “Goddamn devil” Fong was talking about. Maxine Porter and the blonde tomboy had told her about him. As far as Spencer knew, Richard had no idea who she was.

  “Why did Richard tell you to kidnap me?”

  “Richard give Ben an order,” Fong continued. “Ben do not want to follow the order, so Richard got to make him mind. Ben have to learn to be obedient. Richard teach him.”

  “How?”

  “No more questions.”

  “Tell me,” Spencer said, moving her head when he tried to feed her another pineapple chunk. “How is Richard going to teach Ben to be obedient?”

  “Richard take away something very important to Ben,” Fong said. “Something Ben care about very much.”

  “That’s why you broke into Ben’s house that night,” Spencer said, remembering what Ben had told her.

  Tommy Fong just glared at her.

  Persistent, her heart slamming, Spencer asked, “What were you trying to take from Ben that night?”

  “You.”

  chapter 104

  San Ignacio, Belize

  Bullet Tree Village

  Sione woke to a voice he wished wasn’t so familiar, a voice he could never forget.

  Yesterday, after D.J. left, he’d holed up in a bedroom at the back of the house and waited. Time passed and night fell. Sione dozed but couldn’t really rest. He was too agitated, too angry and apprehensive to sleep.

  He couldn’t really sleep without Spencer, anyway. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to the point where he couldn’t close his eyes unless she was in his arms, but he was there. And he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want things to change.

  Rubbing his face, Sione blinked, then rose slowly from the chair, and walked to the bedroom door. Opening it a crack, he listened. Voices raised in anger and confusion. One of the voices was unfamiliar but was probably Bermudez. The other voice belonged to a man he would always despise.

  Ben Chang.

  The men were shouting at each other and over each other, neither allowing the other a word in edgewise. The voices grew louder, desperate words in a language he’d heard before but wasn’t able to make sense of.

  Sione cursed under his breath. Bermudez and Ben were speaking Jamaican patois. He understood Jamaican patois just as well as he understood island pidgin which was not at all. Couldn’t make out a damn word. Couldn’t even pick up the context of their conversation. For all he knew, they could have been discussing the price of tea in China.

  Hearing Ben’s voice conjured up a host of emotions. Hatred … because of what happened between Ben and Moana. Jealousy … Ben’s relationship with Richard bothered him in ways he didn’t want to admit. There was an envy Sione was reluctant to acknowledge. Richard was the father Ben had always wanted, but for Sione, Richard was the father who’d failed him.

  Sione wondered what life might have been like if he and Ben had stayed close. He and Ben would never be friends again, but they would always be connected. Richard was the tie that bound them together, and the tie was wound so tight, it was almost impossible to sever.

  Cursing himself, Sione took a deep breath. What the hell was his problem? Why the hell was he still standing there when he should have been confronting Ben about having Spencer kidnapped, choking the truth from the son of a bitch?

  Yanking the bedroom door open wider, Sione crossed the threshold and headed into the hall. He could tell Ben was pissed about something. Bermudez sounded contrite and conciliatory. Anxious to wrap his hands around Ben’s throat, Sione walked around the corner and into the living room.

  Abruptly, Sione stopped, confused.

  Alone in the living room, Bermudez sat on the couch staring at something on the coffee table in front of him.

  Ben was still yelling, still spewing rapid-fire Patois, and yet he wasn’t in the living room. Not physically, Sione realized, his gaze drawn to the small object on the coffee table.

  A cell phone.

  Bermudez was talking to Ben on a cell phone, and obviously had him on ‘Speaker’. His voice barely above a whisper, Bermudez responded to Ben’s terse demands. Unfocused, not sure what to do, Sione listened as Ben wrapped up his tirade. Bermudez stabbed a finger against the screen, ending the call.

  Consumed with rage and disappointment, Sione stalked over to Bermudez and grabbed the cell phone. “Call Ben back,” he demanded. “Get him on the phone now!”

  Cowering, startled and confused, Bermudez said, “I can’t. I don’t know his number, he don’t—”

  Sione slammed the cell phone against Bermudez’s ear. The man screamed, and tried to scramble off the couch, but Sione grabbed him around the throat, squeezing his trachea. Twitching and gasping, Bermudez struggled, digging his heels into the large area rug, trying to claw at Sione’s hand. Sione tightened his hold around Bermudez’s throat, pinning him back against the couch cushion.

  “Stop struggling,” Sione said. “You’re only making it worse.”

  Bermudez continued to wiggle, trying in vain to move Sione’s hand.

  “I’m going to move my hand a bit so you can breathe.” Sione yanked Bermudez forward. “And then you are going to answer my questions, but if you try anything, I will break your neck. Do you understand me?”

  Bermudez nodded, and Sione removed his hand. Coughing, Bermudez rubbed his throat, glaring at Sione.

  Sione crossed his arms and stared at the sweat-soaked son of a bitch. “What the hell happened to Spencer?”

  Bermudez coughed again and then said, “Tommy Fong took her.”

  “Who the hell is Tommy Fong?” Sione asked, frustrated.

  “Triad enforcer,” Bermudez said. “Bastard got a green snake tattoo on his face. Been beefing with Ben for a long time.”

  “So Fong took Spencer because of some beef he has with Ben?” Sione asked.

  Dark eyes cold, Bermudez stared at him. “No, he took her because Richard told him to.”

  “Richard told Fong to take Spencer?” Sione glared at Bermudez. “You’re lying. That’s not true.”

  “It is true,” Bermudez said. “Richard told Fong to kidnap Ms. Edwards.”

  “Why?” Sione asked, struggling to focus, feeling like he’d been kicked in the head.

  “Your father wanted to teach Mr. Chang a lesson.”

  “What kind of lesson?”

  “Richard don’t like to be disobeyed,” Bermudez said. “There is consequences for disobedience. That’s why Richard told Fong to take Ms. Edwards.”

  “How the hell is kidnapping Spencer a consequence for Ben’s disobedience?”

  “You know what happens when you disobey Richard,” Bermudez said. “He hurts the people you care about. That way, you learn not to go against him. You learn to do what he tell you to do.”

  “Why the hell would Ben care about Spencer?” Sione demanded.

  Bermudez glanced up at him. “What makes you think Mr. Chang don’t care about her?”

  “He doesn’t even know her,” Sione said.

  “You sure about that?”

  Sione stared at Bermudez, confused and apprehensive. Spencer had told him she didn’t know Ben was the payday loan
business owner who forced her to come to Belize and deliver money and fake passports. Maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe Spencer did know Ben and what he was involved in. Maybe she was an active and willing participant.

  The question was, did he really want to know for sure? And if Spencer had lied to him, would he care? Should he care? Bermudez had invoked suspicions Sione didn’t want to deal with, suspicions he didn’t want confirmed. He could live with suspicions, though.

  But could he live with truth?

  The truth could get in the way of what he wanted, hinder his chance to have something real and lasting with Spencer. But if the truth was that she’d lied to him about knowing Ben Chang, then …

  Then … what?

  How could he be angry with Spencer for lying to him when he was lying to her? He hadn’t been honest about his own connection to Ben Chang. How could he be hypocritical and demand full disclosure from her?

  Sione glared at Bermudez. “What were you and Ben talking about?”

  A wet, sputtering cough escaped Bermudez’s lips, and then he said, “He wanted to know where Ms. Edwards was. I told him Fong took her. He asked me where Fong was, and I told him.”

  “You told Ben where to find Spencer?” Sione asked. “Why the hell would you do that? If Ben hurts her, I’m going to kill him, and then I’m going to kill you.”

  Flinching, Bermudez shook his head. “He ain’t gonna hurt her.”

  “How the hell do you know that?”

  “Because Ms. Edwards got something that Mr. Chang wants.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t know what it is,” Bermudez said. “But he sent her here to get it for him.”

  “Ben sent her to Belize to deliver money and fake passports to three women,” Sione said. “And all three of those women ended up dead.”

 

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