by Amy Faye
"Second, even if we wanted to pay you, neither of us have anything like that kind of money. You thought Miss Witt had it, you'd have just left a note with the kid. I don't think her parents have it. If they sold the whole apartment complex, maybe. But that takes six months, they're out of a place to live… Use your head, man."
Josh can't see his expression behind the mask, so it's impossible to know for sure that he hasn't just pissed off a guy with a lead-thrower that, at this range, could blow his head clean off.
But based on a whole lot of nothing at all, he looks like he's not so sure about what he's doing any more. He looks like he's questioning the logic of his decisions. And that's about all that Josh Meadows can ask for.
He takes a step back.
"So if you paid someone…"
"And we did," Josh adds.
"Then who the fuck got the money?"
"I don't know, but that's a good question. You guys should look into that. I think you got a problem."
The big guy lowers the gun to his waist. Josh keeps his hands over his head. "This ain't over, cop. I got my eye on you."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It had all been going so well. Everything was going to get turned around. Everything was going to be absolutely fine. It was going to work out, even. They were going to go and talk to Mitch in a couple of hours.
Then a handful of big guys with equally-large guns came through the door and started screaming and everything just went down around her head. So much for her good morning.
Josh got up after they left. Waited long enough to hear the outside door slamming. She could hear the front door close, could hear the front door lock.
How did they get a key to her apartment? That was the first question that really got her. It was possible to believe that she'd made some kind of mistake. It was even more possible to believe that they'd picked the lock or something… if it was at 5 in the morning.
But the one thing she had definitely heard, as plain as day, was the sound of a key sliding into the lock. It was loud and they hadn't made much effort to keep it quiet. After all, it wasn't exactly long after that they'd deal with any response they might get.
A minute later, Josh walked up with a plate full of food. "It's, uh. It's not too cold."
Anna looked at it like she'd never seen food before. "Oh. Thanks."
She settles into the chair as Josh pulls up on the other side. What were they supposed to talk about? What was she supposed to say about what had just happened? Everything seemed crazy. It was upside-down land.
Worse than that, though, was that they'd absolutely bought Josh's entire argument. Hook, line, and sinker. It was the truth, of course, but it didn't make sense.
Everyone had told them that they had paid. She had paid. It was the truth.
If they showed up now, then it meant that they hadn't just given up on pretending that they hadn't been paid. As far as they were concerned, the first time wasn't paid out.
Which raised a second point.
Why would they come back for a single million that they thought they hadn't gotten when they'd gotten away with three and with the congressman?
That was beyond crazy. It was practically suicidal. Nobody would do something that stupid. It was putting the cart before the horses in the worst way.
Josh kept his head down as he ate. Whatever good mood he'd been in before, it was gone now.
"I'm sorry that happened," he says, finally. He lets out a long breath. "I should've brought the… should've had my god damn gun."
Anna's chest tightens until it feels like it's going to burst. "No! No way. You'd have gotten killed."
"You could've gotten hurt. It was lucky that they believed me. They didn't believe anyone else."
"But if they got Mr. Queen, then. Like."
"Yeah. They didn't seem to be thinking about that."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means, they're not the same guys. In all likelihood."
"What are the odds of that, do you think?"
"Uh… about one in a million, I'd say. In a vacuum."
The eggs were cold, but Anna ate the last couple of bites anyways. She wasn't going to waste them, after all.
"I don't know what we're going to do if they come back."
"We figure out what they know, and what the fuck is going on with their guys."
Anna's head is spinning. "Okay, but. I still don't get it."
"There's a lot not to get." Josh's fingers rub into his forehead. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but we're missing something. I don't know what the hell we're going to do next. But we can't stay here again. They've got a damn key, for Christ's sake."
That makes a lot of sense, in theory. What doesn't make a lot of sense is where exactly they're going to stay if not here. It's not like Anna's got her pick of apartments. Her parents gave her this one.
"Where, then?"
The look that Josh gives her makes Anna feel a little foolish. "Where do you think? My place."
Oh. Yeah. The thought hadn't really occurred to her. Why hadn't it occurred to her?
"I don't want to, I dunno. Intrude."
"You wouldn't be."
She chews on the thought. There's nothing wrong with the idea, not really. But even after he's said that it wouldn't be a problem, it still feels like she's intruding.
"I mean it, Anna. It's not a problem. We don't even have to sleep in the same room, if you don't want to. I can take the couch. It's a good couch. Wouldn't be the first time."
"I don't think that's going to be a problem," she says. She tries to smile. It's hard to say if she's having success. "Same room is probably fine."
Josh taps the phone where he's got it sitting on the table by his food. "Hour and a half until we go to meet Mitch. Are you sure that you want to do this?"
Anna's hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the way that Josh looks when he says Mitch's name. Like he's ready to bash Mitchell's head in with a rock, just about. Like her ex is little more than something that he got all over his shoes.
"Are you sure that you should come?"
"If you're going, I'm coming."
"You have to promise to keep yourself calm."
There's a brief flash of annoyance in his face. One that that Anna's very used to seeing. "I can't promise anything, but I won't hurt him."
"You have to promise."
"I promise."
"And you have to promise you're not mad at me."
He closes his eyes and rearranges his face into a generally calmer expression. "I'm not mad at you, Anna. You didn't do anything wrong."
"You didn't promise."
"I promise, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad, but I'm not mad at you. Okay?"
"That's all I needed to hear," Anna says.
But promises don't mean a whole lot. Mitch made a lot of promises, and it didn't mean much of anything when he did it.
Time's going to tell whether or not things are going to be different this time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
There's no way to express how Josh feels about Mitch Queen. Not to anyone in the world. Maybe he could get them to understand his feelings by showing the world his knuckles, but that's hardly the same thing.
The question now is, how is he supposed to manage to keep himself in check when he's walking into this thing? It's not hard to figure out what's going to happen. What's going to happen is, Mitchell gloats about his bullshit, hints about what he did.
There are plenty of questions left in the detective's mind. Why is it that the left hand doesn't seem to know what the right hand is doing, for example.
One thing that isn't in question for a second is that Mitch Queen is involved. More than likely, he's at the very center of the whole thing.
The guy gets instructions, and then someone else exactly copies those instructions but apparently isn't the original set of kidnappers? There's a precious short list of people who could be responsible for that. A list of about fiv
e or six people.
Anna's one of them. Josh is a second. The Queens are two more. The lawyer. It's always possible, Josh figures. Not likely. You look at likely suspects.
Who is it that hasn't been concerned, hasn't been upset one time? Who's the one who's been pushing back against trying to get any of this shit taken care of? Who's the one who's been surprised by any of the twists and turns of this entire thing? Who's the one who knew, in spite of being several hundred yards and in poor light, that his father had been taken?
When you take everything as a single unit, it becomes a lot easier to figure out who's responsible. It's all pure circumstance, of course. Nobody could possibly prove any of it in court. Not yet.
But it's not hard to figure out who's responsible.
And now, in spite of the fact that he knows better on just about every level imaginable, he's walking right into the guy's plan.
They're putting themselves at great risk, and for what? For nothing. So that he can yank their chains some more. If he could have talked Anna out of it, then he would have. But that isn't possible.
So he pulls into the parking spot, puts the car in park, and pulls the parking brake too for good measure.
"You ready?"
The place isn't packed. It's crowded enough that punching Mitch Queen in his mouth won't lack for witnesses. Which means that he'd better keep himself under control, regardless of whether or not Mitchell deserves it.
Anna nods. She doesn't look ready, but he's not going to call her on it. In fact, he shouldn't get out of the car. He should stay here, and he should wait for her to get back with whatever the hell information she's going to get from him.
He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans across to press a kiss against Anna's forehead.
"Just stay calm, okay? Everything's going to be fine as long as you just stay calm."
"I know." She doesn't look like she knows.
Everything is upside down in her world, and as much as Josh wants to fix it all by himself, he knows that it's not going to work that way.
They can wait a few months and get beat to hell and back by the best lawyers money can buy until Mitch Queen gets custody of a child he never wanted. Anna's whole world falls apart, but they stood up to Mitch Queen.
Or they go to this meeting, let Mitch make some stupid demands and spit on her one last time, as just in case there's some new way to demean her that neither of them has thought of yet.
And as unpleasant as that will be, as much as it will hurt, it's not going to hurt half as bad as letting it keep going more and more sideways.
Josh pushes open his door and steps out. He puts an arm around Anna, his hand guiding her to go ahead of him. She doesn't go any further than his hand, pressed a little way above her ass.
In a way that makes him think very specifically about that ass, a way that he shouldn't be thinking right before going to try to keep himself under control with a son of a bitch who absolutely doesn't deserve him being under control.
Anna slips easily into a charade of being in good spirits and control of herself as they near the hostess' stand.
"Hi, we're supposed to be meeting someone?"
"I know exactly the one. Follow me, right this way."
The woman is small and Asian and pretty-ish. She starts off in a hurry that belies her tiny frame. Josh guides Anna along behind. It doesn't take long to see Mitchell.
He looks like he's had an interesting night. An interesting night that doesn't seem to have ended yet. His collar's open three buttons down, to the point where his chest is about hanging out. He's got dark glasses that don't look like much, but probably cost more than any single thing that the detective owns.
He puts on a smile that serves to accentuate the cut on his cheek. Josh wonders who put that there, and feels a swell of pride when he answers to himself that he knows exactly who it was.
"Nice to see you two. How are you both feeling? You came together. That's sweet. Isn't that a conflict of interests, though?"
"I'm suspended. Case has been handed off to the F.B.I. No conflict at all."
"Oh, well, that's too bad, I guess." He smiles. "I'm kidding. Happy for you two. Such a cute couple."
Josh pulls out a chair, his jaw already tightening. This kid could be a real charmer when he wanted to. Knowing how slimy he could be makes it real easy for that impression to sour.
Anna folds her hands in her lap and leans into the table. "Get to the point, Mitch. What do you want exactly?"
"I wanted to see my new friends for a nice brunch. You two haven't eaten, have you? Oh, you have. No problem. So did I. We'll just have a light brunch, then."
"Get to the point," Josh chimes in, echoing Anna.
"You two are real kill-joys, you know that? 'Get to the point,' 'get to the point,' like a broken record. No, I want to eat. It's not such a long wait."
Josh closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.
"So how's that apology coming, by the way? You got it ready yet? I mean, it won't count now, of course. We've got cameras set up for the event and everything, but I have to say, I'm really looking forward to it. Can I have just a sneak preview?"
"You must hate Christmas, huh?" Josh leans heavy on his hands, pressed into his knees. "Having to wait to get the presents. I guess you'll just have to stay in suspense until next week."
Mitch's face sours a little bit. "No, you're right. I can't stand waiting. That's true."
"Well, you're just going to have to get used to it. Just this once. I know it's probably a big imposition, but… oh, well. Shit happens, I guess."
"I guess it does," he says.
His face is pinched into a frown that Josh doesn't feel bad about at all. "Oh, I did order for you two. You don't mind, do you?"
"What, am I supposed to recognize that you're the alpha male now?"
Mitch's smile comes back, like a rash you can't quite get rid of. "Not at all, Detective. It still hurts to chew, you know? I can't imagine that there's anything about you that isn't up to those standards. You're as tough as they come, no doubt about it."
"Good to know," Josh says.
He's past tired of this conversation, and it's only just beginning. How lovely. He takes a deep breath. This is going to be every bit of the challenge he had hoped it wouldn't be.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Anna had seen this sort of thing before from Mitch. In fact, regardless of 'should' or 'would rather,' it wasn't even uncommon. He acted like this whenever he couldn't lose. As if he were bragging.
He's got something up his sleeve, something that neither her, nor Josh, is going to like. There's more than just a little bit to worry about, at this point. It's not totally clear where things are going to go from here, except that they're going to both end up regretting the hell out of it.
Anna takes a breath and sits back. Whatever's coming, she's got nothing that can stop him from playing his trump card. She never had anything like that before. Why would she have it now?
The waitress comes and brings food. Mitch continues to play the affable playboy. Josh continues to glower. He should have realized it by now. That there was nothing either of them could do. They might as well just let him have his show.
A big stack of pancakes for each of them. It was high enough that Anna couldn't have eaten it on her best day. As it stood, only a couple hours after breakfast, she was relegated to picking away at her food.
That must have been planned from the start, too. Nobody would serve ten pancakes in a big old smokestack if you just ordered 'three orders of pancakes.'
So this was all part of it.
Anna's jaw felt tight, almost as if it were rusted shut. She kept eating in spite of that, because she had to. It was important to Mitchell's plan that they all look perfectly ordinary. Either she was going to wreck it, or she wasn't.
What she wasn't ready to do was throw away any remaining chance of seeing Ava again, which meant, when it came right down to it, that she would play along with almost any pla
n. It was, after all, her own fault. If she'd known better, if she'd thought clearer, if she'd planned more…
If she'd had a security system, if she'd kept Ava safer then none of this would happen.
If she hadn't gotten Mitch involved in all of this, then she would have been left alone, in peace, with time to spend playing with her daughter.
Instead, they'd invaded her home, twice now, and they'd torn open wounds that she'd thought had healed completely by now. Torn open her entire life, and for what? A few measly dollars?
Mitchell pours the last of the syrup onto his stack and takes another bite. He sees Anna looking and gives her a thin-lipped smile. How terribly like him, in the end. Everything he does is just that way.
"How's your food," he asks to the table in general. "Mine's fantastic."
"It's fine," growls the detective. Anna can see—anyone could see—that he's more than had it with Mitchell's act, and there's plenty of good reasons not to like it. But there's nothing to be done, can't he see that?
You might as well just play along with it. He's smart, and he's had all the time in the world to plan this out. Anna—and, presumably, Josh as well—didn't have much time to think any of this through.
They were too busy getting roughed up by kidnappers, they were too busy worrying about Ava, they were too busy with everything other than making a big plan to screw Mitch over. That was the one thing that he couldn't say. The one thing that Mitch could never say.
He never just let himself walk into a situation like that. Not like they had, just now.
Anna takes a deep breath and takes another bite of pancakes. Her stomach is already full, but she doesn't want to get the lecture about finishing her food.
"Good, thank you," she says after she swallows the bite. Softly enough that the next table probably wouldn't hear, but not so quiet that it would be a problem for Mitchell and Josh.
Mitch gives that tight-lipped smile of his again. He takes the last bite and pushes the plate back, washing it all down with the last mouthful of water from his glass. He'll want it refilled soon. Mitch can't stand to be without something to drink.
