The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2)
Page 21
I scrambled to my feet and surveyed the street. He was gone. Mug and Kaz weren’t anywhere that I could see. Lincoln wiped the blood that had mixed with her tears, which only smeared it around. I heaved the body off her, scooped her up, and carried her in my arms back to the cab. The driver was slouched down in the front seat with his mouth hanging open.
“Take us to the hospital.”
He looked over his shoulder into the backseat. “Was she hit?”
“Just drive.”
He jammed the accelerator to the floor and raced down the street. He picked up his radio and asked dispatch to call the police. After relaying what happened he turned to look over his shoulder and said, “They want to know your names.”
“Brad Cox and Mandy Turlington,” I said without hesitation. When he pulled up to a red light, I opened the door and yanked Lincoln out. We ran down the alley to an adjacent street and then ducked into a sushi restaurant. “Wash the blood off in the bathroom,” I whispered and sheltered her with my jacket as we rushed to the back hall where the bathrooms were.
A few minutes later, when she stepped out of the Ladies’ room she looked a bit better, but still shaken. We snuck out the back service door into an alley and walked quickly to a busy street. I hailed another cab and told the driver to take us to the airport.
“I don’t have my passport on me,” she whispered.
I pulled out my phone and called Hal’s wife. “Hi, Evelyn. It’s Cain.”
“Cain, darling. Where have you and Lincoln been? Her father has been so worried.” She lowered her voice, “He’s getting a little sloshed.”
“She couldn’t handle the cemetery. We went to the beach and she said her own special goodbye. Privately.”
“That’s probably for the best. It was very difficult to watch them lower the casket. It all seems so final at that point. The song she sang was so beautiful. He would have loved it. I should have spent more time with him. What was I thinking? Life is so short, so short. We shouldn’t take anything for granted. Don’t take the people you care about for granted, Cain.” She paused and took a deep breath and I tried to jump in, but she carried on. “It’s been a tough day. You should head back to the house. There are so many people here to see Lincoln. Actually, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to get to the house right now. The police have the neighborhood taped off for some reason. Someone said it was a shooting. Can you believe that? A shooting in this area. Please. We have our fair share of drunk drivers and the occasional domestic dispute, but never shootings. Hal would have insisted that I move if he knew about a shooting in the neighborhood. He was a good man. I should have spent more time with him.” She blew her nose, and I attempted to break in to tell her why I called, but she kept talking. “We have so much food here, so come back as soon as you can. The crew has—”
“Evelyn, sorry to cut you off, but I don’t have a lot of time. We’re taking off. Lincoln isn’t up to seeing everyone at the house. Do you think Ralston would be able to bring our bags to the airport?”
“He’s swamped with the reception, but I can send my assistant, Carol. I’ll give her your number. She’ll call you when she’s there. Are you sure you don’t want to stay longer?”
“Thanks for the offer, but Lincoln needs some time to herself.”
“Okay, darling. Tell her that she’s welcome to stay here whenever she needs. Hal thought of her as a daughter, and my home is her home. Take good care of her.”
I looked over at Lincoln who was still shaking. “I will. Thanks for everything.”
After I hung up, I texted Tim to tell him we were taking off and that I would update him with the details once our flight was booked. The cab dropped us off in front of the airport, and we sat on a bench underneath a palm tree to wait for Carol. There was a security guard stationed twenty feet away, and there was no way for someone to approach us unnoticed. Lincoln’s dress was made of a light fabric, so I wrapped my suit jacket around her shoulders and hugged her into my chest.
“Do you still think it’s a good idea to go our separate ways?” she asked with a bite to her tone.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
She sat up and looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. She lowered her voice. “Why would he shoot his own guys and then walk away without even touching us?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
“I don’t understand why your dad’s friends haven’t taken care of it.”
“Digger said there was some sort of complication.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
I considered phoning Mug or Cisco to tell them what happened, but I was cautious because it seemed suspicious to me that Mug and Kaz weren’t at the mansion when it happened. I also had no idea who the two guys who tried to take Lincoln were, so I didn’t want to give up too much information to anybody. Instead, I texted Mug a vague message:
Heading out of town. Will send a message when situated.
Lincoln was pale and crying again when I looked up. I leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
“For getting you mixed up in this mess.” I inhaled and let the air out slowly to reduce the anxiety that was brewing inside me. “And I’m sorry I tried to leave you. You need to know that it’s the last thing on earth I wanted to do.”
“But you were willing to do it.”
“If it meant you would be safer, yes. But if you’re in danger either way, I’d rather be with you.”
She sighed and sunk against my chest. “I would rather be with you, too.”
I knew I was all in at that point, no more excuses. And the thought of losing her for any reason terrified me.
We sat in silence for the next half hour. I was anxious to get inside and through security where nobody would have a weapon. After Carol dropped off our stuff, Lincoln and I went up to the ticket counter. The earliest flight to Vancouver wasn’t for another four hours, and I didn’t want to lure Dewalt close to my sister, so I booked two tickets on a flight to Montreal instead. Lincoln looked at me funny, but she didn’t say anything until we had passed through security and were waiting at the gate. “Is your sister in Montreal?”
“No.”
“Why are we going there?”
“It gets us out of here faster. Nobody will know where we are for a while. Plus, a lot of my dad’s friends still live in Montreal. Since Digger refuses to tell me anything about Fireball’s real identity, I can ask around and maybe find out on my own who Frenchie Dewalt is.”
“Cain.” She lowered her voice. “Are you crazy?”
Before I had a chance to answer, two girls who looked like sisters skipped over with paper and a pen. They were whispering to each other. “I’m positive it’s her.”
The older one wrinkled her nose and said, “I don’t think it is. Her hair is too messy.”
“But that’s her boyfriend. For sure.”
“Just ask her then.” The taller one pushed her sister in the shoulder, which made her stumble toward us.
“Excuse me, are you Lincoln Todd?”
Lincoln glanced at me before she said, “No, but I get asked that all the time. Sorry to disappoint you.”
The little sister looked crushed. The older one looked smug. “I told you it wasn’t her.” She walked back over to where their dad was sitting, but the little one stared at me. She pulled a magazine out of her bag and glanced at the photos, then back at me. She smiled when she realized it was us. She was about to turn to call her sister back.
I quickly asked, “Can you keep a secret?”
The girl nodded and smiled at Lincoln.
“You were right, but it’s important that you don’t tell anyone that you saw us until after we leave—not even your sister. Can you do that?”
She nodded again.
“Come here, sweetie,” Lincoln said. The girl stepped closer. “What’s your name?”
“Rachel.”
The girl nodded and held her wrist out for Lincoln to latch the bracelet. “Thanks,” Rachel breathed out almost inaudibly.
Lincoln squeezed her hand. “Okay, don’t forget to keep our secret until after our plane leaves.”
She nodded and pulled her sleeve down to hide the bracelet. She went back to sit down next to her sister. She was jiggling and fidgeting. It was obvious that she was nearly bursting at the seams wanting to blurt out her news. Fortunately, our plane started boarding, so I ushered Lincoln through the gate. It didn’t make a difference, though. A bunch of people on the plane recognized her, too. Half of them had their phones out likely tweeting or texting about how we were on our way to Montreal.
“Sorry,” she said to me.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Being recognized is one of the side effects of being famous.”
“It was me who the little girl recognized. I need to change my look.” I sighed and tried not to have a panic attack.
“On the bright side, you’ll probably look good as a blonde.” She jabbed her elbow into my ribs to try to make me smile. It didn’t work. The engines rumbled as we pulled away from the gate, and I hyperventilated. Lincoln caught the attention of the flight attendant and sweet talked her into giving her some alcohol.
I shook my head when she tried to hand it to me.
She laughed. “What? Now you’re more afraid to get drunk and accidentally tell me how you really feel than you are to fly?”
I didn’t want her to worry more than she already was, but without Tim and the guys watching our backs, we were completely vulnerable. I needed to be alert. The only problem was, being alert to my impending death in an airplane crash was not in any way helping the anxiety. I exhaled and dug my fingers into the armrests with a death grip as the engines revved.
“Here, try this, you baby. It won’t make you lose all your inhibitions and vow your undying love.” Lincoln handed me a yellow pill from her purse.
“What is it?”
“A sedative. The doctor gave them to me to give to my mom in case she ever freaked out while I was with her. I took one once to see what it was like and it made me sleep.”
“For how long?”
“A couple hours.”
The plane accelerated down the runway and began to lift off. I started to sweat and felt nauseous, but I shook my head to turn down the sedative.
It was the most uncomfortable fucking three hours and forty-seven minutes of my life. I was still tense well after we cleared customs and hailed a cab to take us to a business class hotel. We chose it because we hoped people would assume she wasn’t Lincoln if she wasn’t staying at a posh hotel. We were both exhausted by the time we checked in, and we crashed as soon as we got to the room.
When I woke up the next morning, it was sunny outside the hotel room window. She was asleep next to me in the bed, and my left arm was draped over her in a protective way. The standard hotel room, with just one bed and a small living area, seemed so plain after all the suites Hal used to book for us.
I got up, careful not to wake her and went into the bathroom to shower.
I ran over the details of what went down in Miami, repeatedly trying to piece it all together. No matter what angle I looked at it from, it didn’t make sense why Dewalt would have shot his own guys and then dropped the gun and walked away without hurting us.
Lincoln knocked on the door. “Your phone is ringing. It’s Tim. Do you want me to answer it?”
“Sure. Tell him we’re in Montreal.”
After she talked to him, she opened the bathroom door. It was a glass shower, so she had a clear view if she wanted to look, but she didn’t. She sat on the counter and turned her back to me. “He doesn’t think it’s a good idea to be here in Montreal by ourselves, so he’s flying in today.”
“Okay…”
“Who are Brad Cox and Mandy Turlington?”
“The captain of the football team and the head cheerleader at my old high school.” I turned the water off, grabbed a towel from the hook, and wrapped it around my waist.
She turned to look at me. “I hope they don’t mind that the police are going to be knocking on their door wondering how they were linked to a double homicide in South Beach last night.”
I laughed. “I never liked that guy anyway.”
She washed her face, then said, “I was thinking, maybe the guys who tried to take me weren’t Fireball’s guys. He wouldn’t have killed them if they were Boomslangs members, would he?”
I frowned as I thought about it. She was right, but if it was true, it meant someone else was trying to get to her. I didn’t want to freak her out with that theory, but I wasn’t going to lie, either, so I said, “I can’t think of any reason why he’d kill his own brothers.”
“If they weren’t his guys, who were they?”
I didn’t know, but I did know where I could find out more about the original members of the Boomslangs and the Noir et Bleu, and what that had to do with my dad. “Get ready. We’re going to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The cab dropped us off in front of the Montreal apartment building my grandparents used to live in. It was a few buildings down from where my dad’s cousin Nick lived. He was never a member of the club, but he hung out with them before they went national, so I hoped he’d heard of Dewalt. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and soaked up all the familiar sights.
“Does one of your dad’s friend’s live here?” Lincoln asked and tilted her head back to take in the Brownstone building we were standing in front of.
“Yeah, close to here. I need to get my bearings. This is the building I lived in on and off until I was five years old. And the original Noir et Bleu clubhouse is one block over.” I turned and pointed at the school down the street. “That’s where I went to kindergarten. My mom went there, too.”
She smiled at the kids who played tag on the sidewalk. “That is so cute. Did you used to play on the street like that?”
I nodded and held her hand to lead her to the building Nick lived in, or had lived in. The woman who answered the door to his apartment said he had moved out in the summer and she didn’t have his contact information. Lincoln and I walked back out onto the street. I called my grandpa to see if he could think of anyone else who still lived here and would have known Dewalt, but he didn’t answer. Before I had a chance to come up with the name of another person who might still live in the neighborhood, a teenage girl across the street yelled, “Oh my God, it’s Lincoln Todd.” A bunch of kids all turned to look. It literally took only seconds for a swarm of people to gather around Lincoln asking for her autograph and taking pictures with her.
“What brings you to this part of town?” a mother with two daughters asked her. The crowd grew and I searched for the best way to get her out of the center of it.
“Cain lived here when he was young and he wanted to show me around his old neighborhood,” Lincoln answered as she signed the back of a little girl’s T-shirt. I swore under my breath and checked the time on my phone. We didn’t have long before Digger and Dewalt both heard the news that we were in Montreal.
“So, does that mean you and Cain are officially dating?” the mother asked.
Lincoln raised her left eyebrow a little before she shot a sexy smile at me. “Cain and I are very dear friends.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” a guy in his twenties asked.
“No comment.” She beamed as she hugged two little girls in for a picture. Then she glanced at me and winked.
“We have to go,” I said to her.
“It will only take a minute.” She pressed her lips together and pinched her cheeks. “Do I look like a total mess?”
My gaze stalled on her lips, and I had to snap myself out the daze to answer
, “You look great, but they’re going to show up here. We need to leave.”
“Two minutes.” She stepped in for more photos, and since she spoke French, she interacted with the fans in both languages. She told them we were taking time off as she grieved for Hal.
“Can we get a picture of you and Cain together?” a teenage girl asked.
Lincoln stepped down from the stairs and stood beside me on the sidewalk. I slid my arm across her shoulder, and she hugged me around the waist to lean in for the pictures.
After apologizing to her fans on her behalf, I clutched Lincoln’s hand tightly and led her through the crowd. We crossed the street and rushed down the sidewalk with a mob following us. An elderly woman was ahead of us carrying a bag of groceries. I knew she would get mowed over if we passed her, so I slowed down. That was when I heard Harleys down the street. There was no time, so I escorted the woman into an alcove. Initially, she was startled that I had moved her off the sidewalk, but then her expression changed. She looked almost perplexed as she examined my face. “Vous êtes ici pour trouver Martin?”
“Uh—” I shook my head, confused.
Lincoln stepped closer and asked the woman, “Qui est Martin?”
The woman reached up and gently placed her palm on my cheek. “Je ne l’ai pas vu ça dupuis des années. Vous me rappelez tellement de lui.”
“She says you remind her of someone she hasn’t seen in a long time,” Lincoln translated for me. “Comment vous appelez-vous?” she asked the woman her name.
“Marie Josie Dewalt.”