Skye’s head spun with thoughts of flash-bang grenades that emit high-intensity light to temporarily blind and disorient the enemy, thermal imaging devices to see in the dark, and even a Doppler radar gadget that picked up breathing and movement within a house. Sad to say, Tuck’s security team was much better trained and equipped to rescue Wally than his own officers.
Finishing her meal, Skye put her dishes in the sink, took her cell from the charger, and grabbed the notepad and pen from her purse. After arranging everything on the table, she sat down and called Dante. She’d put off this conversation as long as possible. It was time to grow a backbone and interrogate her uncle.
Olive answered on the first ring and Skye quickly said, “Hi, it’s Skye, Aunt Olive. I was so glad to hear you weren’t hit by the tornado, but sad to hear about Uncle Dante’s illness. How’s he doing?”
As much as Skye wanted to, she couldn’t avoid the pleasantries and get right down to business. If she did, the instant she disconnected, Olive would on the phone complaining to May. And Skye was not in the mood for a call from her mother reminding her to be polite.
“He’s doing much better.” Olive’s voice had a definite edge. “Almost back to normal.”
“That’s great.” Skye couldn’t tell from her aunt’s tone whether Olive thought Dante’s quick recovery was a good thing or not.
“I was so sorry when May told me about your beautiful house,” Olive said. “You’ve spent so much time and money rehabbing it.”
“At least none of us were injured.” Skye was truly tired of saying this, but it was the only acceptable answer in the circumstances.
“I took a ride past this afternoon,” Olive said. “Is it at all salvageable?”
“No.” Skye’s voice hitched. “According to the insurance company, it’s a complete teardown. And they totaled out both cars, too.”
“It was sure nice of your father-in-law’s company to bring in a motor home for you.” Olive’s tone was probing. “And so quickly.”
“Yes, it was.” Skye thought fast. “Luckily, the motor coach was being used at a jobsite in Chicago that had just finished up.”
“How fortunate.” Olive’s voice was cynical. “And your dad’s brother is lending you a vehicle. So many aren’t as blessed. But as always, my dear, you seem to have landed on your feet.”
“Yep.” Skye clenched her jaw. “That’s me. I must have been a cat in another reincarnation. I just hope I haven’t used up my nine lives.”
Olive chuckled politely, then said, “As long as you don’t become complacent.”
“Oh, I don’t expect everything to be just handed to me,” Skye snapped. “People are free to put their offerings down anywhere.”
There was a moment of shocked silence, then Olive gave a forced chuckle and said, “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help you, just let me know and consider it done.”
“Thanks so much.” Skye said, then added sweetly, “If it’s not too much trouble, I do need to speak to Uncle Dante.”
“Of course, dear.” Olive hesitated, then warned, “With his illness and the town in such a state from the tornado, he’s a tad cranky.”
“Understandable.” Skye rolled her eyes. When wasn’t her uncle grouchy? “I promise not to keep him long. I know his favorite show is coming on television soon and I wouldn’t want him to miss it.”
“Right. I almost forgot.” Olive’s haste was evident. “Let me get him for you.”
Skye tapped her pen on her notepad as she waited for her uncle to pick up.
“What do you want?” Dante’s scowl came through the line loud and clear.
“Hello to you, too, dear Uncle,” Skye said sweetly. “I’m so relieved to hear that your upset tummy is better and you’re out of the bathroom.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dante grumbled. “Olive’s going to need to bring in a fumigation crew to deal with that place.” He snorted. “Now, what do you want?”
“I spoke to one of Zeke Lyons’s colleagues today.” Skye decided to cut to the chase. “He mentioned that Zeke had been concerned that you were urging him to go along with a city council matter that he didn’t feel he could vote for in good conscience.”
“So?” Dante belched.
“What was the issue on which you two disagreed?” Skye asked.
“None of your beeswax,” Dante sneered. “And before you go accusing me of murdering him over it, I really didn’t need his vote. I just thought it would be nice to have a unanimous front.”
“Oh, come on, Dante,” Skye wheedled. “Surely nothing is that clandestine.”
“You’ll find out when every other Scumble Riverite is informed.”
Skye pursed her lips, thinking. “Does it have anything to do with the budget freeze?”
“I’m not saying,” Dante grunted. “If you have nothing else you need from me, I want to hit the can before my program comes on.”
“I can always ask Kathryn Steele to have one of her reporters look into it,” Skye said. “You know the Star’s owner and I are friends.”
“Son of a—” Dante cut himself off and said, “Considering you and your husband’s positions in the community, you both are mighty fond of blackmail.”
“What are you talking about?” Skye wasn’t aware of Wally coercing her uncle about anything.
“Don’t try to make me believe that he hasn’t told you about forcing me to allow him to replace that druggy cop he fired,” Dante thundered.
“No, he hasn’t,” Skye said. “When did this whole thing come about?”
“The day after the tornado,” Dante growled. “Your precious husband refused to do his job unless I signed a paper letting him hire someone.”
“What did you ask him to do?” Skye’s pulse raced. Was this why Wally had wanted her to talk to Dante? Had her uncle sent him somewhere dangerous?
“All he had to do was drive out to my friend Hollister Brooks’s rental property, check it for damage, and let Hollister know if it was okay,” Dante huffed. “I assume the chief did so, since I received a thank-you text from Hollister, but it would have been nice if your husband had done me the courtesy of letting me know himself.”
“What’s the property’s address?” Skye demanded, barely able to breathe.
“Why do you want to know that?” Dante’s tone was suspicious.
“Because Wally’s been missing since you sent him there.” Skye barely restrained herself from screaming at her uncle’s paranoia.
“What do you mean he’s missing?” Dante screeched. “The chief of police vanishes and I’m not informed? I’ll have Quirk’s badge.”
“You will do no such thing.” Skye wished she could reach through the phone lines and slap her uncle. “Roy is doing a wonderful job juggling the problems from the tornadoes, Wally’s disappearance, and Zeke Lyons’s death.” Skye inhaled and enunciated every word. “Now. What. Is. The. Address?”
“You think I have it memorized?” Dante snorted. “It’s on my desk at city hall. Since I’m feeling better, I plan on going in to work in the morning. I’ll call you with it when I get to my office tomorrow.”
“Wrong!” Skye gave into her need to yell at her uncle. “Either you go and get me that address immediately or I swear to God, I will come to your house, haul you from your recliner, tie you to my back bumper, and drag you through town.” She gulped in air. “Are we clear?”
“Geeze Louise,” Dante complained. “You don’t have to be so damn dramatic.”
“Are. We. Clear?” Skye asked again. Maybe she should just call her father-in-law and ask him to have Tuck pay her uncle a visit.
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Dante paused and she could hear him hollering at Olive to find his car keys. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Starting now.” Skye got up and set the timer on the microwave. “After that, I’m coming aft
er you. And uncle or not, I will hurt you.”
Skye disconnected, then quickly dialed Carson and said, “I’m pretty sure I know where the kidnappers are holding Wally.”
After she explained what she’d learned from Dante, Carson said, “Tuck and I are heading back to your place right now. We’ll leave Quentin and the beta team at the dairy farm to keep an eye on things there. As soon as you text me the address from your uncle, alpha team will proceed to those coordinates.”
“I should have it ASAP.” Skye got to her feet and started toward the bedroom.
As she walked, she glanced at her watch. It was 7:27. Her uncle had six minutes left to call before she sicced her father-in-law on him. Carson wouldn’t have any problem ordering Tuck to “persuade” Dante to cooperate. And she wouldn’t have any problem letting him.
Skye hurriedly changed into maternity jeans, a dark T-shirt, and sneakers. She twisted her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and briefly considered grabbing one of Earl’s stun guns, then shook her head. No. Tuck would doubtlessly have something better for her to use.
As she sat back down at the kitchen table, her cell rang, and when she answered, Dante said, “Fifty-one fifty-seven Harvester Road.” After a short pause, he added, “Let me know if Wally’s okay.” Then apparently realizing what he’d said, Skye’s uncle barked, “But not during my show.”
Dante disconnected and Skye tapped her fingernail on her chin. Her uncle’s concern about Wally had lasted less than a minute. Which, in a way was comforting. If Hizzoner ever turned into a decent person for any length of time, she’d have to start looking for other signs of Armageddon, too.
Shoving aside thoughts of her uncle, Skye stared at the tiny piece of paper in front of her. The address looked so innocuous. She’d half expected it to be on Devil Lane. Was this where Wally was being held? Even if it wasn’t his exact location, at least now they finally had a place to start searching.
• • •
Wally jolted awake. The motorcycle gang was in the kitchen and they were arguing again. He’d briefly dozed off after his last failed attempt to get away. It seemed as if every time he had almost gotten his wrist free of their bindings, Tin would appear. It was odd that the guy never commented on the fact that the zip ties were damaged.
Instead, he’d cut off Wally’s restraints, given him food and water, put on a fresh set of zip ties, and said, “Hang in there, bro. You’ll be out of here and home with your pretty wife in a few hours.”
After Tin’s supper visit, Wally had figured he’d be left alone for the rest of the night and renewed his efforts to get his hands free. The last time Tin had been in the basement, he’d spotted blood on the jagged edge of the workbench and turned it over. Now, Wally looked around for another way to slice through the plastic.
As he scrutinized every detail of the basement for the hundredth time, he heard a voice like a dentist drill whine, “Once we have the cash, we should kill him.”
“Not a good idea, Jackal.” Tin’s tone was casual, but Wally thought he detected a nervous flicker. “There’s no good reason to bring down that kind of heat on us. We just leave the dude tied up, ride into the sunset, and we keep a nice low profile.”
“We bury his worthless carcass six foot deep in one of the fields,” Jackal argued. “No one will ever connect that pig to us.”
Several voices joined in, agreeing with the plan to kill and plant Wally.
Shit! Wally had almost allowed himself to believe Tin when he’d said he’d be released unharmed. But this Jackal asshole was stirring the pot. What if Tin was overruled or one of the gang came back after Tin had left and finished off Wally without his knowledge?
“Cops kill us all the time without anyone doin’ anything about it,” Jackal snarled.
“Yeth. Jackal’th right.” Squirrel’s distinctive lisp helped Wally identify him. “The motherth shot down my old man in cold blood.”
“My brother’s in a wheelchair because of the pigs,” a deep voice boomed.
“And a lot of our club members are in the joint because of them.”
Gritting his teeth, Wally remembered reprimanding Quirk when he’d overheard the sergeant jeering at Martinez when she arrived for her shift riding behind a guy on a motorcycle. “What’s the difference between a Harley and a Hoover?” Without pausing, Quirk had answered his own question. “The location of the dirtbag.”
At the time, Wally had stepped in and put a stop to Quirk’s disparaging jokes. Wouldn’t it be ironic if Wally died at the hands of a biker?
“Listen up!” Veep had obviously had enough of the insubordinate behavior and shouted above the gang members’ grumbling. “We are sticking to the plan. All of you need to be ready to saddle up and ride by ten o’clock tonight. Boo-Boo will go over to babysit the ransom drop and we’ll head to the new place. I want all of us, and all our stuff, out of here and everyone having a beer at the new clubhouse by the time Boo-Boo comes back with the cash.”
When there were a few muttered protests about Boo-Boo’s tendency to screw up things, Tin said, “I’ll hang back until Boo-Boo gets here, then we’ll join you and celebrate our newfound wealth.”
“What if the cop’s old man doesn’t show?” Jackal challenged.
“If 5–0’s father ponies up the cash, we leave him alive,” Tin answered. “If the ransom is a single dollar short or the cops show up or anything feels at all hinky, I’ll shoot him, dump his body, and ride.”
Hell! Wally closed his eyes. Was Tin just saying that for the benefit of the other gang members, or had he been stringing Wally along the whole time with his buddy-buddy act? Maybe his humane treatment had been nothing more than a performance to make controlling Wally easier.
Wally knew his dad would pay. But would he follow the instructions not to bring in any law enforcement? Probably. But there was no way in hell that Carson wouldn’t have mobilized the company’s elite security squad. What if the team was spotted?
Wally glanced at the cardboard-covered windows. Judging from the diminishing light, he figured it was closing in on eight o’clock. He had four hours before the ransom was paid. And if he didn’t plan to just sit here and wait to be executed, he needed to get his damn hands free. Maybe he could use the old shovel to cut through the zip ties.
Either that or he’d have to get his wrists so bloody he could slip the ties off.
Chapter 21
When, at last, he walked into Dorothy’s room and thanked her for rescuing him, he was so pleased that he wept tears of joy, and Dorothy had to wipe every tear carefully from his face with her apron, so his joints would not be rusted.
—Tin Woodsman
Skye kept a wary eye on her infuriated father-in-law, worried that he was going to have a coronary. His face was a particularly alarming shade of purple, and while Tuck organized Wally’s rescue, Carson paced the length of the motor home, muttering curses and threats.
As he completed another trip up and down the center of the motor coach, Skye heard him plotting Dante’s demise. She wasn’t sure if Carson truly meant her uncle harm, or if this was just his way of handling stress.
However, once they had Wally back safe and sound, she needed to have a chat with her father-in-law and persuade him not to have Hizzoner assassinated. As much as she wanted Dante out of the mayor’s office, killing him probably wasn’t the solution. That is, as long as Wally made it home unharmed.
Which was what Tuck was busy arranging right now. Once Dante had provided her with the address and she’d passed it on to Carson, the security chief had sent two members of his team to investigate. At the moment, he was on his cell with them and his one-word responses were driving Skye crazy.
Walking over to the huge man camped out on her sofa, she poked his shoulder. “Put the phone on speaker.”
He frowned, but after a glance at Carson, who nodded, he complied and said, “Boss
and OB would like to hear your report. Start over.”
“OB?” Skye asked, glancing at her father-in-law with a raised brow.
“Other boss.” Carson smirked, then pointed at Skye and said, “You.”
She nodded. Damn straight!
“The house is occupied by what appears to be a motorcycle gang. The RANGE-R picked up breathing and movement of ten tangos inside the house,” a detached voice recounted. “Eight bikes are parked out front, along with two large panel trucks that have trailers attached holding one motorcycle each. Best guess: the tangos are getting ready to haul ass out of here.”
Tucker glanced up at Skye’s gasp, then asked, “Any sign of the chief?”
“There’s a Scumble River Police Department squad car hidden in a machine shed on the property. That building’s only window is blocked with cardboard, but Weasel picked the lock on the door and did a quick recon.” The voice paused. “It looks as if the gang still has some stuff to pack. Maybe another hour or two of loading.”
“Any tangos visible?” Tuck asked, his eyebrows meeting over his nose.
“Negative. RANGE-R shows them all in what we believe is the kitchen.”
“And the chief?” Tuck asked. “Any indication of his location?”
“Most likely he’s being held in the basement,” the anonymous voice continued. “There’s someone breathing there, but no detectable movement.”
Skye inhaled sharply. Breathing was good. It meant Wally was alive. Suddenly lightheaded, she sat down at the kitchen table. Not wanting either Carson or Tuck to realize she was dizzy, she casually unscrewed the top of a bottle of water and took a long drink.
“Maintain surveillance and contact me immediately with any changes. In the meantime, keep one in the chamber and be ready to rock and roll,” Tuck ordered. “Beta Leader and his team will remain at ransom drop site. Mr. Boyd and I will join you in a few minutes. Stay frosty.”
Dead in the Water Page 20
