The Misters: Books 1-5 Box Set

by JA Huss

  “And you’re not,” I say.

  “I need your help. Can you come to the coffee shop? The Conrads want to meet my son. And if West was still alive, he would never let that happen. So I’m not going to let it happen either.”

  I take a deep, deep breath as I stare up at a possible surveillance camera and then let it out slowly. “I’ll be right there,” I say. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

  I tab the end button on the phone and speak to the camera instead. “OK,” I say. “This is it. I’m ready. I’m starting phase three right now.”

  I put my coat on, go downstairs, and when I get outside I open up the secret phone and press Mariel’s contact.

  She answers on the first ring. “Yes, Katya?”

  “Can you meet at the coffee shop? I have so many new things to tell you.”

  “I’ll be right there, darling.”

  She hangs up as I stare at the phone. Darling. I love that word. Oliver calls me that every once in a while. It just slips out like it’s my name. But only every once in a while.

  Forget it, Katya. Just think about what you have to do next.

  I try to put my sister out of my mind. I try to pretend that she’s smart enough to have known this was coming. I try to talk myself into believing that she is waiting somewhere safe until all this shit blows over.

  But I’ve been in that moment too many times lately. So no matter how hard I try… I just don’t believe it.

  Chapter Forty-Three - OLIVER

  “You ready?” Pax asks me as we cross College Avenue and head towards the shooting range behind Shrike Bikes. What a weird place he chose. But it’s in our favor, so I don’t care.

  “I’m ready,” I say as we cross Maple Street at a jog. There’s a dark car with dark windows parked in the parking lot. This asshole can’t look any more suspicious if he tried. The only thing he has going for him is that no one is working at Shrike Bikes right now.

  Lucky him.

  But that’s still a problem for us.

  The door to the car opens and some tall redhead chick gets out looking like a middle-aged whore. Pax shoots me a look. I shrug, no clue who this bitch is.

  “Hey,” I say, talking to Liam once we are within range. “You can’t leave that car here. My parents will be at the shop in eighteen minutes and in twenty-five minutes, the police will be knocking on that window. If no one answers from inside, they will proceed to tow it, per my father’s posted warning sign.” I point to said posted sign. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t need any more attention today than I already have.”

  Liam looks agitated. His hands are stuffed into his dark trench coat, his shoulders hunched against the wind. He doesn’t like the cold, I take it. He wants to be back inside that car or this building. He looks at the woman and says, “Pull the car around the block. We’ll wait here until you get back. But hurry the fuck up. I hate this goddamned wind.”

  The woman obeys. Pax and I exchange a quick glance.

  “That’s quite a job you did,” Liam says to Pax.

  “We can talk about it inside,” Pax says.

  “Why did you do it?” Liam asks.

  “I said we’ll talk about it inside,” Pax practically growls. “So shut your fucking mouth until that happens. Then you can ask all the bullshit questions you want. OK?”

  All three of us look in the direction the woman drove off in. And a few minutes later we’re rewarded with her tall figure jogging back to us.

  Car moved out of sight. Check.

  “OK,” I say. “Let’s get the fuck out of this parking lot before people start noticing us.” I go for the door, key in the security code, and hold it open as Pax, the redhead, and Liam all go in. I close it up as they wait on this side of the construction plastic, then say, “Follow me.”

  I lead them through the plastic, down a hallway, and into the main part of the building.

  “What is this place?” the woman asks.

  “Well, one day, when my father pulls his head out of his ass, it will be a shooting range.”

  “Not much to look at,” Liam says, studying the lack of progress to indicate that this place is anything but a condemned building.

  I just keep walking until we reach another barrier of construction plastic, and then pull it aside so they can enter the nothing-special office lounge.

  Liam eyes the table, decides it’s not too dirty to get comfortable, and then does just that.

  “OK,” Pax says. “I made good on our deal. Now tell me what the fuck is going on with all this Mister shit.”

  Liam laughs. Pulls off his black leather gloves one finger at a time. Keeps laughing. It sorta echoes off the high ceilings and that distracts me for a second. It really is an ugly building.

  “You fucked up, Vance.” This isn’t Liam talking. It’s the woman. “I think you better check your expectations before you go off getting cocky.” She takes a seat next to Liam, waving a big gun in her hand.

  Pax cocks an eyebrow at me that says, Can you believe the balls on this one?

  I really can’t. But then again, she did just say that. So I guess I have to.

  “Calm down, Ellen,” Liam says. His good-ol’-boy southern accent—which is usually under control—makes an appearance. “She’s like a dog that needs to be corrected. We have to explain where she went wrong. Punish her. And then retrain her.”

  Pax reaches into his jacket, pulls out his gun, and shoots Ellen in the chest.

  Just bang. Loud as fuck. Bang. Once more to make it count. That wasn’t in the plan he told me back at my office, but whatever. We’re improvising. And we know an Ellen. Well, Mac does. And I’m pretty sure this was that cunt who made Ellie’s life a living hell last year.

  And then he turns to Liam and grabs him by the throat. “Look here, motherfucker,” he says in a low, calm voice. “I did your job, and we had a deal. So you had better start talking or I’m gonna shove this gun up your ass and blow your goddamned head off. Because that’s definitely where you’re keeping your brain today if your big bad plan was to bring a woman along to talk shit to me.”

  Sometimes a man knows when he’s beat. Sometimes he takes it like a… well, a man. And then there are times when he doesn’t.

  Liam Henry doesn’t take anything like a man. But that’s OK.

  I look around the would-be shooting range my father has been tinkering with for the better part of six years. Liam was right about this place. It really isn’t much to look at.

  But it sure as shit is soundproof.

  In the end we get what we need. And Liam gets a date with his little girlfriend.

  Different gun, of course. Pax makes dead Liam shoot dead Ellen just to keep it authentic for the forensics team.

  He plants the gun that shot Liam in Ellen’s hand. Plants the gun that shot Ellen in Liam’s hand. And then stands up to admire his handiwork.

  I whistle in appreciation. “Why, Mr. Mysterious. I do believe you’ve done this before.”

  Pax shrugs. “Maybe a time or two. It’s not perfect. I can think of a dozen mistakes I’ve made. But it’s good enough. I think we can probably buy a local cop on that dark market of yours.”

  I roll my eyes. “So what do you think?” I ask, looking at my watch. We’ve been in here forty-five minutes. I lied to Liam earlier. Shrike Bikes opens at four PM on Thursdays. So no one will see us here at all. But I’m too lazy to move that damn car. Plus, just thinking about all those fingerprints and DNA samples I might leave behind if I actually have to drive it… nah.

  “Victoria will be happy, right?”

  “Happy?” I ask. “I don’t think she wanted them to be involved. But yeah, she called it way the fuck back when, right?”

  “Let’s go get West first. I bet he’s dying to get out of that basement. Then we can deal with the others.”

  I nod and follow him out of the building, locking it up behind us. And then we tuck our hands into our pockets, bend our heads into the wind, and head acros
s College Avenue to the backdoor of the FoCo Theater to bring our dead friend back to life.

  Chapter Forty-Four - KATYA

  Victoria is sitting in the back of the coffee shop when I arrive, her young son Ethan enjoying a pastry and cup of hot chocolate as he swings his feet and smiles at the Christmas cartoons on the flatscreen just above his head.

  “Hey,” I say to Victoria, sitting down in the chair next to her.

  “I can’t get a hold of Ariel, or Cindy, or Pax, or Oliver. But I did get a hold of Ellie, and they are on their way to Denver—”

  “Wait,” I say. “What are you talking about?”

  “The sh—” Victoria looks at Ethan and stops her curse word. “They left town.”

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Nolan, Ivy, Ellie, and Mac. They left town and they’re creating a credit-card trail as they travel down I-25.”

  “Why would they do that?” I’m so confused. “What’s happening?”

  Victoria eyes Ethan. “Ethan, sweetie?” she says in a mom voice I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing from her before. “Why don’t you go to the little craft table over there and make West a Christmas card?”

  Ethan gives her a sharp look. “Are you sure he’s—”

  “He’s fine, sweetie. I promise. Now go.”

  Ethan scrapes his chair across the floor as he pushes it back, and then he shoots her one more dubious look over his shoulder before walking across the shop to settle into a crafting table filled with crayons and paper.

  “He saw the news last night,” Victoria explains.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Luckily, he’s a cynic, like me.” She gives me perhaps the most real smile I’ve yet to see from her. “And he said, ‘That looks fake.’”

  “What’d you say?” I ask, smiling with her.

  “I told him West was working at the haunted house and someone made a mistake and called the reporters.” She shrugs. “It’s the truth, right?”

  “I… guess. I really don’t know what happened with that, to be honest.”

  “So,” she says.

  “So,” I say back.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Katya Kalashova. Give me the bad news. Where is he?”

  I consider asking her who she’s referring to. And then I consider lying, but Victoria just shakes her head.

  “Don’t bother. I know why you’re here and I know you’re here for me. I remember you, Kat. I was given to Gori Junior and you were given to Gori Senior. So I know he’s here to either kill me, take me, kidnap my kid, torture me—you name it, he’s capable. And he’s here, so don’t lie.”

  “He’s here,” I say, feeling a little defeated. “And he knows we’re both in here, because he’s watching everything I do.”

  She swallows hard. I get it, I really do. I don’t know what kind of horrible things happened to her while she was involved with the Gori family, but it doesn’t take much to imagine it. I lived it as well. “And now what?” Tori asks.

  I shrug. “We wait.”

  “For what?” she snaps. “What exactly is the plan.

  “I don’t have the plan. I was sent here to—”

  “I sent her here.”

  Tori and I both look up at the sound of Mariel’s voice. She gives us both a warm smile as she takes a seat in the empty chair next to me.

  “Why didn’t you tell us the plan yesterday, Mariel?” Tori asks.

  “Because I didn’t know if it would work.” Mariel looks at me. “But it did, right, Katya?”

  I nod. “Yeah, it definitely seems to be working all right. But she’s not the only one who sent me here, Victoria. I’m working for all of them. Liam, Gori Senior, and Mariel.”

  I take a deep breath as I wait for Tori to catch up to what I just said. “Why?” she finally asks after several seconds of silence. “Why did you bring them here?”

  “She didn’t bring them, Victoria. She’s just the bait. You understand that, right? You understand when you love someone so much—perhaps a father who saved you, or a sister, who you desperately want to save”—she looks at me for that last part—“you will go to extreme lengths to make things right.”

  Victoria has a pained expression on her face. Probably thinking about her father. “I was there that night your father died,” I say. “I wanted to be saved by the Misters too. I saw Oliver—just this one little glimpse while all that shit was going down—and I wanted more than anything to walk up to him and beg for help.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Tori asks. “He would’ve, you know. He would’ve taken care of things. We’d have known more if you did. Instead you come here, dragging bombs behind you, hoping that it will all turn out right. It’s bullshit, Katya. It’s selfish and you know it.”

  “They have her sister, Victoria.”

  “What?” I say, turning quickly to Mariel. “Since when? I just saw her yesterday. She—”

  “They got to her years ago, Katya. Think,” Mariel says, tapping me on the head with one finger. “Put the pieces together, darling. They have had her since before you came here. Before you ran. She is the one who ratted out your parents.”

  “What are you talking about?” I stand up so fast, my chair falls backwards. “That’s a lie.”

  “Sit down.” Mariel snaps, looking warily around the coffee shop. “Now.”

  I do as I’m told. I sit down, but my mind is racing with all the mistakes I might’ve made and my heart is galloping with fear. They cannot have Lily. It can’t be—

  “Katya,” Mariel says, taking my hand. Her palm is warm. It feels very soothing on my icy fingers. “We can still save her if”—she stares hard into my eyes, holding my gaze until she’s sure she has my attention—“if we do this right. She’s away right now. Those Antimony girls have left that house. She’s with them.”

  “Where did they take her?” I ask.

  “It’s not important. What is important is that she’s not at the house right now. And a letter with her name on it was delivered to her dorm yesterday. The letter states she was not accepted as an initiate into the Antimony Association.”

  “She wasn’t?” I’m so confused. “But they seemed to love her—”

  “Katya,” Mariel says. “Stick with me here, sweetie. We’re laying traps, right? If she was accepted she might be implicated in what’s about to happen.”

  I take a deep, deep breath. “What’s about to happen?” I ask, my words barely a whisper.

  Victoria’s phone buzzes on the table, just as mine buzzes in my pocket.

  We both have the same panicked look on our faces.

  “Read them,” Mariel says.

  We pick up our phones and read our texts.

  “‘Come to the Antimony House,’” I say. “It’s from Lily.”

  “It’s not from Lily,” Mariel says, looking at Victoria. “I already told you, they took her out of the city. What does yours say?”

  Victoria lets out a deep sigh of relief. “It’s West. He says to stay right where I am and he’ll be here in thirty minutes.” Her happiness fades quickly as she realizes what Mariel just said about the sender of my text. “It’s not West either?”

  “It’s West,” Mariel says. “You stay here and do what you’re told for once. Do you understand me, Victoria? If you want your son to be safe, then you will stay here. Katya, on the other hand, is leaving.”

  Outside there is an explosion.

  People start screaming, hysterical. Frantic to get out of the coffee shop at first, then they realize it might be safer in here and begin to push towards the back.

  “What’s happening?” I ask.

  Tori is already across the room, grabbing up Ethan from the Christmas card table and hugging him to her chest.

  Seconds later, like they knew it was coming, police sirens are everywhere. The screaming of fire trucks follow shortly after.

  “What the fuck was that?” Tori asks, making her way back to Mariel and I, who are both still sitting at the table, staring at each other. I guess
Tori isn’t so concerned about her language at this point, since she is clutching little Ethan to her chest when she says it.

  “That,” Mariel says, “means it’s time to go.” She passes me a bulging yellow envelope one might use for inter-office mail at work, and then stands up, adjusts her coat, and says, “I’ll see you shortly, Katya,” before turning away and walking out the back door.

  Phase four, I think, tucking the yellow envelope into my coat.

  Phase four starts now.

  Chapter Forty-Five - OLIVER

  “Shit,” I say, staring at the fire pouring out of the shooting range roof. “You might’ve overdone it with the explosives.”

  Pax scoffs as he tries to get a better look from the window in my office.

  “Ya think?” West says. “When doesn’t he fucking overdo it?” He’s pacing the old wooden floor behind us. The creaking is driving me crazy.

  “Hey,” Pax says. “Are you the expert in disappearing shit? Huh? Because if so, the next time we need to kill two people to save your ass and then blow up most of the evidence, you’re welcome to take the lead on that, brother.”

  West says nothing.

  “Now what?” I say. “My dad is gonna freak out.”

  “As he well should,” Pax says. “I’d be pissed off too if a couple of East Coast crime assholes came into my town and started blowing up my establishments. That shooting range office was on the east side of the building. I set the charges just outside, so it totally looks like they were trying to blow up Shrike Bikes. But I directed the explosion towards the shooting range, so your dad’s shop should be OK once they put the fire out.”

  I scrub both hands over my face. Aside from his potential drinking problem, and the fact that there’s a ninety-nine percent chance this maniac will be my brother-in-law very soon, I sometimes worry that Pax believes his own lies.

  “The bodies will burn though,” Pax continues. “Forensics will find the guns and casings, and they might even know that they were shot before the explosion happened, but I’m telling you, you really can buy cops on your dark market.”