Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1)

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Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1) Page 9

by Heather Day Gilbert


  Propelled by the obscure emotions she was still processing, Katie pulled on her low boots, then scrawled a note for Mom and dropped it on her bed. She headed out the back door and snuck around the back of her apartment to avoid scrutiny by the FBI agents. Creeping toward the Lexus, she could see a couple bags lying on the back floor, as well as a blanket and pillow.

  An idea began to simmer, then it quickly combusted into a blaze. It was perfect. This would be her greatest adventure yet. She smiled at her own boldness, her spontaneity. How very un-librarianesque of her.

  She would tell him she loved him, let the chips fall where they may. Maybe he would choose to skip the flight and stay, like the ending of a romantic movie. But then again, maybe she'd have to catch a cab home from the airport.

  She didn't care.

  She needed closure. And probably one last kiss.

  ****

  Mrs. McClure stood on the porch, waving as Ace thudded the car door shut and buckled himself in. No sign of Katie. It was probably for the best.

  Using his newly-developed mountain driving skills, he made good time, maneuvering the curvy roads like a pro. Glancing at the canopy of green trees arching near the side of the road, his stomach clenched. Such a wild elegance here in Hemlock Creek. It was an unaffected natural beauty of the most powerful kind. He pictured Katie's hair, blowing in the wind. Her eyes, sparkling with amusement and candor. She embodied that unaffected beauty that brought out his most protective feelings.

  If only he had more to offer her. If only his life hadn't been derailed by an unwarranted prison sentence. He could have been an upstanding citizen with nothing blotting his record.

  Now he had more than a blot, he had made a deal with the devil. At least it would soon be over.

  ****

  The car slowed. Had they already arrived at the Lewisburg airport? Katie didn't dare raise up from under the blanket until Ace had gotten out. She didn't want to alarm a man who always carried a gun.

  Even with the air-conditioning on, the wool blanket she'd hid under felt stifling. Though it carried the comforting smell of its owner, she had to get out from under it. When the car door slammed, she barely shifted, breathing in his scent one more time before exposing her mouth and one eye.

  This was probably a dumb idea. She might very well scare him out of his mind, since he'd been in hyper-vigilant bodyguard mode for so long. She wouldn't pop out and open the door...she'd just ease out.

  The trunk slammed and she heard him walking away. No! She'd waited too long!

  She struggled to sit up, stiffening in fear as she peeped out at the view.

  This wasn't the airport. Vines tangled around a large, dilapidated building that was surrounded by trees. One large maple tree was actually growing out of the roof.

  A black car was parked off to the side of the building, and Ace was heading straight for it, pulling his rolling suitcase behind him.

  Had he found the money and contacted Anatoly's men? Was this some kind of drop?

  Had he betrayed them all?

  Barely rising above the window ledge, she held her breath, watching two larger men exit the black car. They were holding Uzis, but they didn't look like the same men from the library.

  A man emerged from the front seat, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Sandy blond hair, deep tan, ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.

  She'd know him anywhere. Jim Chrisman. She gagged, nearly losing her breakfast. So Dad's partner hadn't had cancer, and he wasn't murdered, as Dad had suspected. In fact, he'd never died in the first place. And Ace must have known all along.

  A dark blue SUV raced up from the far side of the parking lot, screeching to halt in front of Ace and the others. Three armed men jumped out, also toting heavier artillery. They formed a loose circle around the initial collaborators.

  As Ace stared at the newcomers, she couldn't miss the look of panic in his eyes. When he slowly raised his hands in the air, she dropped to the floor, pulled the blanket over herself, and started praying furiously. She had no weapons, and Ace had no chance.

  ****

  He had never been so nervous, even though he was the one who'd secretly invited Anatoly to this rendezvous. He carried only one pistol and they could mow him down faster than he could blink, despite the bulletproof vest the Feds had loaned him.

  The FBI lurked somewhere, listening to this exchange through his earpiece. They knew his suitcase was stuffed with empty Dr. Pepper bottles, so the moment he opened it, he'd be toast if they didn't get to him first.

  But he was banking on one thing: Anatoly wasn't the kind to cut a deal. Jim might try to wheedle his way out of this, but the Russian would find it glaringly apparent who had orchestrated the theft of his bank money.

  Anatoly scooted out of his seat, his corpulent stomach spilling over his belt. He carried a smaller gun but had no need of it, given his well-armed henchmen.

  He took a wide stance and shouted. "Jim Chrisman! You are a—" Harshly punctuated Russian words spewed forth. Anatoly's men understood them and snickered.

  Ace stood between the powerful men, not budging. Let the titans clash this one out.

  Jim gave his ingratiating smile. "Anatoly. Let's work something out, like men."

  The large Russian cackled. "You are no man. You are a coward who hid behind his partner. So scared you had to play dead." He took a step closer. "Today I will show you what you had to fear."

  Jim held up his hands. "Now hold up, big fella. Let's see what my stooge has brought me. Oh wait, I haven't made introductions." He pointed. "Ace, this is Anatoly. Anatoly, this is the clueless sap I landed in jail, then pulled out of there so he could find my money. A real ladies' man."

  Blood rushed into Ace's ears, making his head pound. He had been such a fool. The invisible lowlife who had framed him years ago was the exact same man who had released him. Jim Chrisman had no intention of letting him go, even if he did have the money. He would send him right back to prison.

  If only Anatoly would take the first shot.

  Closing his eyes, he prayed silently. Peace washed over him and he knew he still shared Katie's faith in a loving God—a Father who watched out for His children. He promised to go back to Katie and make things right if he survived this encounter. But if not, she would eventually know what he had done to protect her family.

  Jim repeated himself, obviously antsy. "I said it's time to show us the money, Ace. You do it or my men will do it for you."

  Ace wheeled his piece of luggage closer, leaning down as if he would unzip it. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the sides, hurling the suitcase to the ground directly in front of Anatoly.

  Anatoly jolted back but quickly recovered his composure as he realized Ace had given him the loot. He smiled like a doting parent. "You did well, my boy." He spoke one Russian word and reached for the suitcase.

  As he did so, a single shot rang out. Ace dropped to the ground, a burning sensation spreading across his head. Pain blinded him. He rolled in the general direction of the SUV, hoping to slide under the oversized vehicle as a volley of shots unleashed.

  Something warm and sticky dribbled into his eyes. He swiped at it, then realized it was blood.

  He'd been shot in the head.

  As the world grew fuzzy, he took comfort in one thing: Katie was safe.

  ****

  12

  "Oh, Lord, please no. Please don't take him, Lord." Katie squeezed Ace's limp hand in hers, staring at the blood still spackling his hastily-cleaned face.

  Two FBI medics spoke rapidly to one another. She could only catch blips of the conversation.

  "Another unit of blood."

  "That's right."

  "Is he responsive?"

  Ace's hand shifted slightly under hers. "He's alive!" she shouted.

  The dark-haired medic smiled her way. "Yes, he is. He got lucky. That bullet only grazed his head and ear. It'll take a little stitching, but he'll survive. He was exceptionally brave, going up against two powerful criminals."


  She hugged Ace's hand to her face, kissing it. "Yes, he is. The most devoted bodyguard ever."

  ****

  When Ace opened his eyes, a bearded man with wild red hair was peering at his face. Where was he?

  But the moment Brandon spoke, he recognized him.

  "Dude! You're awake!"

  Lowering his gaze from the faded hospital ceiling, Ace smiled as the three McClure women rushed his way.

  "Thank the Lord!" Mrs. McClure said.

  "You scoundrel." Molly winked. "I knew if anyone could pull it off, you could."

  Katie leaned over and brushed his forehead with a kiss. "When you're all better, you're going to explain why you told my sister about your meeting of imminent doom, but not me. And then I'll tell you about this really interesting car ride I had..."

  Much as he struggled to stay alert, his eyes fluttered closed. "Love...you," he mumbled.

  Suddenly, Katie's strong voice was right next to his ear. "I love you too," she said.

  ****

  Two days later, Katie explained the events of that day to Ace one more time, even as she lightly traced his stitches. They were healing fast.

  "From what the agents said, Jim shot at Anatoly and the bullet grazed you. It killed Anatoly on the spot. Then you dropped and the men blasted into a shooting free-for-all, which came to an abrupt halt when the FBI agents showed up. Jim didn't get hit, because he hid in the car—the loser. Now he's heading straight for prison." Her voice dropped. "He still swears he had nothing to do with Dad's death."

  He gripped her hand and she felt renewed encouragement.

  She edged closer to his leg from her perch on the side of the couch. "They investigated your record and said it's officially expunged. It was obvious Jim set you up so he could get to us."

  He adjusted his legs to make more room for her, then took a slow sip of unsweetened iced tea, thankful he was around to enjoy it. "But I don't understand what happened to that 1.5 million. Jim swears he hid it on your dad's boat."

  "I know, it's so weird. There's no way Dad could've spent all that. Mom would have known. And by the way, Mom came clean and said you'd told her about Jim before your clandestine meeting with him. Did everyone know but me?"

  Catching the last of their conversation, Brandon strode over, dropping his overstuffed rucksack to the floor. "I knew nothing, sis—promise. I just wanted to get the FBI in on things. Little did I know your bodyguard would suggest another plan to them." He gave Ace a high-five before his look turned serious. "You're a real hero, man. I have mad respect for you. I hate to fly out now, but I need to get back. Hey—maybe I'll see you around sometime? I'm thinking I might come back in October. To tell the truth, I miss fall in these mountains."

  Katie beamed, thankful that her brother seemed to be feeling more connected to his family. "I hope you do. We don't see you enough."

  Brandon shoved his aviator sunglasses on. "I was pretty wrong about Dad. I mean, he probably only wanted me to play baseball so we could do something together. And I pushed him away. Meanwhile, there he was, serving with an utterly corrupt partner who wound up ripping off a mob boss and staging his own death."

  Ace reached for the coffee table, retrieving the bag of baseball cards. "That reminds me. I haven't even looked over these yet, but you should keep them. They were never meant for me."

  Brandon hesitated, then silently nodded. As he took the partially-opened bag, the contents spilled out on the floor.

  Katie bent over to shuffle the cards back into a pile. One caught her eye. "Hey—how cool is this? This card says it's from 1951."

  "Could I see that?" Ace asked. He examined it as she began to sort cards by year.

  "There are several with the older dates," she said.

  Brandon took off his sunglasses, plopping down on the floor nearby. "You're right, sis."

  Ace looked incredulous, barely holding the card between thumb and forefinger as if it were on fire. "This one is a Joe Jackson card of the Chicago White Sox."

  She nodded politely, handing him another old one.

  "And this is a Willie Mays," he said.

  Shooting his sister a blank look, Brandon spoke up. "We really have no idea who they are, man. So you ought to keep these. They'll mean more to someone who appreciates baseball."

  Ace propped himself up and grabbed at the pile of old cards. As he shuffled through, mumbling names, Katie shrugged. She began packing the rest away in the bag.

  Finally, he beamed. "Brandon, Katie—your dad was no fool. He knew about Jim and he knew about the heist money."

  "What makes you say that?" She was bewildered.

  He dropped the pile of cards in her lap. "Because he took it and he bought baseball cards. Extremely valuable baseball cards. It probably took months to get hold of all these. Just one of these could be worth up to a hundred thousand dollars or more. To avoid suspicion, he mixed them with modern cards, then packed away the bag in the attic. No one would even think to look for cards instead of cash."

  Brandon sighed. "So, Dad was crooked after all?"

  "No. He was smart. He was aware if the cash was found on his boat, he'd be an instant suspect in the theft. He'd look like a crooked FBI agent, and he could lose his job or even get sent to jail. So he pretended to be oblivious to Jim, meanwhile disguising the money for later."

  "Still doesn't seem legit," Brandon muttered.

  "I think he was probably worried about us," Katie said. "If he lost his job because of suspected theft, I'm sure the FBI would have made it hard for him to get hired anywhere."

  Brandon laughed. "Come to think of it, I think he'd finally be proud of me. Suddenly I find myself very interested in baseball."

  She lightly punched his arm, shaking her head. "You aren't keeping these now, bro. We have to hand them over to the FBI so they can close this case." She looked to Ace for affirmation.

  He nodded, touching his stitches as if they still pained him. "It's the right thing to do. But first we should probably let your mom know."

  "And Molly—she'll want to be in the loop."

  He grinned. "That's for sure."

  ****

  One week later, when Ace's head was finally starting to feel normal, the FBI pulled up to the McClures' home.

  The agents spontaneously broke into a round of applause as he walked out to meet them, carrying the bag of baseball cards. Katie squeezed his arm. He had never felt so respected in all his life.

  The lead agent stepped up and shook his hand. "We can't tell you how much we appreciate your bravery, not to mention your discovery of the cards. Otherwise that money would've been lost forever. As a reward, the bank has agreed to let you keep your choice of two cards."

  He gasped, then paused to think. "Let's see, I'll pick one for Brandon first. How about the Joe Jackson—the first card that tipped me off to what happened?"

  Katie grinned. "Thanks for thinking of him."

  As for himself, he knew just the one he wanted. Digging around in the bag, he found it and handed it to Katie.

  "Joe DiMaggio. He didn't agree with his dad concerning his career, and he married a beautiful woman that was out of his league. I can relate."

  She frowned. "What are you saying? Did you fail to tell me that you're married?"

  Wrapping an arm around her slim waist, he kissed her cheek. "No, but I'll get married someday. And I have this particularly beautiful redhead in mind."

  ****

  As Ace drove off in the somewhat-battered Lexus, Molly whistled. "Good gracious, I hate to see that boy go. He was really good for you, sis."

  "I know." Katie tried to hide a smile. "He's not gone forever, you know."

  Molly bumped hips with her. "I hope he comes to visit. And Mom told me he's going to the police academy? I guess he's racked up some experience fighting bad guys. We all knew he was great with weapons."

  "That's for sure. And strangely enough, he wants to work for a small police station—just like the one here in Hemlock Creek."

/>   Molly quirked an eyebrow. "Wait—you mean you're not following him up to New York City? I thought you were going to bust outta this town the first chance you got."

  Relishing her new zeal for life, Katie shook her head. "The dreams I was chasing weren't the right dreams for me in the first place. It hit me when I was crouching in Ace's car, praying and fearing for our lives. I'm not meant to be on the front lines like that—like Dad was."

  Molly's smile widened. "I think we always knew that was the case. But we couldn't convince you of that. You just had to find yourself."

  "I have—the self God made me to be. When I'm honest, I have to admit I enjoy being a librarian, I love our small town, and I like living near family. Reba will want to retire someday, and I'm already thinking of ways to modernize the library. I feel like I finally have a mission."

  Molly winked. "And does that mission include a certain Ace Calhoun?"

  "He just took out a Hemlock Creek library card, so I expect him to be a regular patron."

  "Stop hedging! Are you two an item or what?" Molly crossed her arms, feigning anger.

  Katie thought of Ace's goodbye kiss. He hadn't spoken a word, but had pulled her into his arms and gazed at her until, as if magnetized, she tipped her lips to meet his. "My future is with you," he'd murmured. "You're my hero, Katie McClure."

  "And you're my champion—my ace," she'd said.

  And now she was ready to face the future, unafraid. To stand tall on the feet God gave her, tipsy as those feet might be. Ace would be there to support her.

  "We're more than an item." She hugged her sister. "We're engaged."

  ****

  Dear Reader,

  I'm so glad to introduce you to the McClure siblings of West Virginia (my home state). Katie, Molly, and Brandon are such vivid characters in my mind, maybe because I married into a family with red-headed siblings (disclaimer: the McClures' personalities are purely fictional). As I wrote this story, Ace Calhoun kind of wriggled his way into my heart and went from being a semi-scoundrel to a hero—and I realized why his unusual name (he insisted on it!) fit him so well.

 

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