Make It Right

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Make It Right Page 25

by Shannon Flagg


  “Don't get smart with me.” He smacked her ass playfully. “I'll answer the door when they come.”

  “Good.” She smiled widely as she slid off of his lap. “Because I plan on being naked.”

  <#<#<#

  A night filled with Chinese food, a borderline cheesy action movie and the woman he loved had been just what Danny needed. He felt relaxed as he walked into the bar. Buster was the only one there, sitting at a table with the morning paper and an oversized mug of coffee.

  “Where's everyone?”

  “Most of 'em are passed out upstairs. Ace took off right after you did. Train is in the kitchen, asleep under the table. Don't ask me why. I'm not sure I want to know, since there was butter smeared all over the place. It was a good night. Looks like your night was good too.”

  “It was. There any more coffee?”

  “Behind the bar,” Buster replied.

  “Rock and Edge see anything interesting at Royal's place last night?”

  “He didn't leave. He's still there. They said from the sound of it he trashed the place pretty good. I'm still trying to wrap my head around all this shit. Still doesn't feel real that I'm at the head of the table or that Royal's out.”

  “Trust me, it's real.” Danny poured a cup of coffee and carried it back to the table. He sat down across from Buster. He picked up a pack of cigarettes from the table and lit one. “And we've got a really big problem if we don't find Missy.”

  “No shit.” Buster grabbed the pack of cigarettes when Danny threw it back down on the table. “I've got an idea on that. I think that we need to find Monroe because he should have the best idea where she is. I'm figuring he's had eyes on her since he left here.”

  “Yeah. You're probably right about that. Trouble is, there's no way he's going to talk to any of us.” Danny couldn't think of anyone that James would talk to. He knew that they'd all conspired to keep him in the dark. It didn't matter that they were just trying to keep him from getting himself killed. I hope he does have an eye on her, though, for all of our sakes.”

  “We've got to try to reach out to him. He might be inclined to work with us now that we've all got the same goal. Got to say, though, it feels fucked up to be planning on killing a pregnant woman, but there's no way around it.”

  “Bitches lie about that all the time.” Train surprised them both as he walked through the kitchen door wearing only an apron and a pair of socks. “And she's always been the worst kind of bitch. Where the fuck is the coffee? And why isn't anyone cooking?”

  “Maybe because the kitchen is covered in butter,” Buster replied. “I was just about to head out, see what Baked has to offer today.”

  Train let out a snort of laughter. “You know what they have to offer. I really hope you're fucking her, or it's a little pathetic how you've suddenly got this huge sweet tooth.”

  “I'll worry about who I'm fucking. You gonna put on clothes and come with us or what?”

  “Pass. I need a shower. Butter is stickier than I figured it would be.”

  Danny waited until Train was up the stairs. “What's the deal with the bakery girl anyway?” He asked Buster.

  “There's no deal. They make good muffins. Really good muffins.”

  “They do,” Danny agreed. Buster's answer told him all that he needed to know. He wasn't sleeping with the girl from the bakery, but he wanted to. It was good to realize that no matter how shitty things might be going, life was going on for all of them.

  The ride to Baked was short. The weather started to kick up, wet snow that was going to turn right into ice when the temperature dropped. Buster parked his pickup in front and they both got out. There were two customers in the store and the brunette behind the counter.

  She saw them and froze for a second. She shook out of it and checked the other two customers out quickly. “I was hoping that you'd come in this morning.”

  “What's going on ,Caroline?” Buster turned and locked the door. “People can wait for their danishes,” he told her when she opened her mouth to protest. “If Wayne gives you shit, I'll take care of it.”

  “Screw Wayne, he hasn't been here in days. I was here early this morning, earlier than usual, and about five in the morning, a car pulled into the lot and then another car. The security camera caught it all. It was Missy Davenport and Detective Harris. They talked for a few minutes and then went their separate ways.”

  “And you didn't call me and tell me this before now? Why not?”

  “Both of those bitches are crazy. Missy threatened to break my face when I ran out of red velvet cupcakes on a day she wanted one. And Detective Harris just comes in here and sits while she eats her cookies. She just gives me the creeps. So if you could keep my name out of anything, that would be really great.”

  “Relax, Caroline, you did good telling me. I'll take care of it.” Buster smiled at her. “What's up with Wayne?”

  “I don't know. He's been totally off the radar, not answering my calls even. I can handle the shop, but a little heads up would have been nice. I've got like three days of deposits hidden in the freezer.”

  “I'll come by when the shop closes, or send one of the guys, to take you to the bank,” Buster told her.

  “Oh, I didn't say it for that reason, but I'd appreciate it.” Caroline seemed to visibly relax. “So, what can I get for you guys?”

  “Give me a dozen doughnuts, a dozen muffins and whatever you'd recommend for me.” Buster moved closer to the counter. “You've never steered me wrong so far.”

  “I made the apple fritters, they're pretty good.”

  “I'll take a couple of those, too,” Danny told her. “And I'm Danny. Buster here seems to have forgotten his manners.”

  “Caroline, obviously. And um, this makes me a little uncomfortable, but I've got to charge you guys for these. One fritter could have fallen on the floor but that much stuff, well Wayne will notice, and he takes it out of my check.”

  “Don't even worry about charging us. Any of us. We don't want Wayne to give you shit. He does, you should call me.”

  “I can handle Wayne for the most part, but thanks, I appreciate that.”

  Danny turned to look out the window so that they wouldn't see his smirk as the conversation continued. He'd bet everything in his wallet that Buster would do everything in his power to be the one who took her on the bank deposit run. “Fuck.” He'd pegged the black sedan that pulled up across the street as police issue, but Danny hadn't expected to see Detective Harris step out. “We've got company.”

  Buster turned; his easy smile was replaced with an unreadable expression. “Unlock the door, Danny. Let the bitch get her sugar fix.”

  “I should have had some seriously Irish coffee this morning.” Caroline sighed but plastered what Danny thought of as a customer service smile on her face.

  The bell over the door chimed, and Harris stepped in. “Well, at least I can say that you boys have excellent taste in coffee and baked goods. Hello, Caroline.”

  “Detective. You want your usual?”

  “Let's switch it up today. Give me the peanut butter cup cookies. I'm celebrating. Calories be damned. And extra cream in my coffee with real sugar.”

  “Be just a minute.”

  “I'll just catch up with my buddies here.” Harris turned to face them. “So, want to know exactly why I'm celebrating?”

  “Not really,” Buster replied. “Figure that you're going to just tell us anyway, so knock yourself out.”

  “That President patch looks good on you. Want to fill me in on the regime change?”

  “Nope.” Buster shrugged his shoulders. “Get to your point, I'd like to go enjoy my fritter.”

  “Okay. Want the short and sweet? Judge signed off on a warrant today for the arrest of your former leader for the murder of your former member. Obviously Nightshade does have a lot of friends, it took me finding someone who was privy to what happened to get the warrant rolling.”

  Danny and Buster exchanged a brief look. Obvi
ously the person she was talking about was Missy, and the only advantage that they had was Harris didn't know they knew. “Well, good luck with that,” Buster told her.

  “Your order is done, Detective.”

  “Fantastic. I'm starving. Better eat now since I've got the feeling I'm going to have a busy day.” Harris walked over to the counter, took the bag and cup and walked out.

  “You didn't charge her,” Danny observed.

  “No. I pay for hers every day. First time I charged her, my car got towed. I got the message loud and clear.” Caroline replied. “I don't want any trouble.”

  “You won't find any from us, Caroline.” Buster took out his wallet, removed several bills and handed them to her.

  “You gave me way too much.”

  “No, I didn't.” Buster winked at her. “Come on Danny, I'd say we've got some work to do.”

  Danny thought that might be the understatement of the century. Missy was obviously well aware of the danger she was in. Going to Harris showed just how desperate she was. The problem was they were just as desperate. They had no idea where she was being stashed or what she knew to tell Harris. Not that the truth of anything even mattered. She would lie. He knew that she would lie.

  “What the fuck do we do now?” Danny questioned as they got into the truck.

  “Our mission hasn't changed. We find Missy. We either kill her or sign our own death certificates. Personally, I'd rather not die bound in chains, naked, dangling from the ceiling of Joseph Miller's torture chamber.” Buster started the pickup. “Call Ace, get him and Train on Harris. Maybe she'll lead us to Missy.”

  “I'm on it.” Danny pulled his phone out. “I'll call Amelia, too, while I'm at it. See if she can try to reach out to James. He still has more friends than he realizes in the department, maybe one of them can help. Maybe they're still using the same safe houses.”

  “I hate the word maybe,” Buster reminded him.

  “So do I.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Amelia felt alone, exposed and more than a little scared as she walked through the overgrown front yard of the house James had grown up in. After Danny's call, she'd gotten into the car and just started to drive. She'd gone every place that she could remember James hanging out at. It had taken her too long to remember his parents' house.

  When she'd left Detroit, his parents still had been alive. They'd passed away about four years before. She didn't know if James had lost the house to the bank or if he'd just let it rot. She was a shitty friend for not knowing. She was a shitty friend for a lot of reasons, and she was going to tell him just that when she found him. And she was going to beg him to work with Nightshade to take Missy down. The front door was boarded over, so Amelia went around the back. The yard was seriously overgrown, but there was a beauty in it. Amelia recognized the roses Mrs. Monroe had been so proud of now running wild. They were spectacular.

  “You've got balls coming here.” James spoke from one of the busted-out kitchen windows.

  “We need to talk.” Amelia remained where she was, her hands held where he could see them so he'd see she wasn't armed. For the first time she considered that he might just shoot her. There was no trace of the man that she knew left on his face. “I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. I'm just here to tell you that Missy's going to pay. She's done more than we knew about, and she's going to die.”

  “So why are you telling me?”

  “Because Missy is with Harris right now,” Amelia blurted out. Why sugarcoat it? “So you can shoot me or you can help us get the bitch, but I kind of need you to decide right now.”

  “I trusted you, Amelia. Really trusted you. And you lied to me, you lied to me over and over again.” James disappeared from the window. Her heart sank, but then he appeared on the back porch. He moved carefully over wood that looked questionable and stairs that were half gone. “I should shoot you right now.”

  Fear flowed through her when he pulled his gun out. He walked over to where she stood, pressed the barrel against her forehead. Amelia forced her eyes to stay open; if it was going to happen she was going to see it coming. “Maybe you should. It'll be a quicker death than if Joseph Miller gets his hands one me.”

  “What does he have to do with anything?”

  Amelia spilled it all, never thinking of all the Nightshade secrets she was sharing in the process until she was done. “This is as bad as it gets, James. Please. I've got no right to ask.”

  “You're right. You don't.” He kept the gun against her head. “The Millers are bad news. Shooting you would be a mercy. I'm not sure that you deserve mercy. You let the monster who killed your sister get away with it.”

  “What choice did I have? I'd have been dead if I went after her.”

  “The difference between us is that I wouldn't have cared if I died. I don't care if I die.”

  “You should care, James. You should want to live. Fiona would have wanted you to live.” Amelia hoped bringing Fiona up wasn't a mistake.

  “What am I living for?”

  “For you,” she replied without hesitation.

  “I've got nothing left.”

  “I've been there, James. Do you think I wanted to live when I left Detroit? When Danny divorced me?” Amelia felt old wounds tearing open. “You think that I didn't consider it? That I didn't sit at night with my gun in my hand knowing all it would take was putting it to my head and pulling the trigger?” If she closed her eyes she was right back there, back to the time when even Fiona and Taylor didn't matter. To the time when she was ready to just end it all because of what her life had become. “But I didn't. I knew that it was just going to be easy for me, not for anyone else. So, I sucked it up. Told myself that it would get better. Put one foot in front of the other and kept moving.”

  “And it got better?”

  “Or I learned to live with it. I'm not really sure which, but either way, I survived. I'm here. I'm standing and I'm breathing.” Amelia wished that he'd put the gun down. Everything inside of her was on such a high level of alert that just standing there and not breaking down was taking every available bit of her strength.

  “You won't be for long if Missy lives and Joseph Miller gets his hands on you. I'm not sure about a lot of things right now. I don't trust you. I might not even like you. After this, I'm going to need you not to speak to me again until I come to you, but I will work with Nightshade, if only because Fiona would have wanted me to keep you breathing.”

  Amelia felt tears roll from the corners of her eyes as James finally lowered the gun down to his side. “Thank you.” She moved to hug him but he stepped back, shook his head.

  “Let's just get started on finding Missy. There are only so many DPD-approved safe houses. They'd have her in one of the higher security units. I know where they are. Maybe we can at least narrow down which one she's being held in. Getting inside, getting to her? Well, that's going to be a problem. People are going to get hurt.”

  He left unspoken that people would likely die, law enforcement personnel, which would mean that there would be no stone unturned in the search for the killers. Amelia almost wanted to laugh; their options were now slow, painful death or life in prison. But if she laughed, she'd start to cry. If she started to cry, she'd never stop.

  “Let me grab my shit. Make a few calls.” James' voice was almost normal. Amelia looked up as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don't lose your shit on me now, Amelia. This is our last chance to make things right.”

  “I won't. I'll call Danny, tell him what's going on.”

  “Tell him to have Edge reach out to his sister. She works at a diner where a lot of cops hang out and she keeps her ears open. She found out they had the search warrant, maybe she's heard something else.”

  “Good thinking.” Amelia watched James walk away, took out her phone and dialed. Danny answered on the first ring because he'd been expecting the call. “Hey. I found him. He's with us.”

  “That's good to hear.”

  �
��We're going to scope out some of the higher security safe houses he knows about. He said to have Edge call to Jillian, see if she's heard anything at work.”

  “Edge is on Royal. I need him focused. I'll send Ace and let you know what he finds out. You and James are good again?”

  “No,” Amelia replied. She'd be honest but she'd never admit he'd pulled his gun on her or that he'd held it to her head. Danny never needed to know about that. “But he's with us. I guess our shit is on hold for now.”

  “If he hurts you...”

  Amelia cut him off. “He will not hurt me, Danny. He just won't. Even if he hates me, he won't hurt me. I should go. We've all got a lot to do.”

  “Be careful,” he told her, his voice suddenly gruff.

  “You too.”

  <#<#<#

  They checked half a dozen places; none showed any sign of activity whatsoever. Amelia checked her phone at least thirty times to see if Danny had sent a text instead of calling. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. “Go to where Jillian works.” A feeling that something was wrong was niggling at the back of her mind. “They should have called by now.” James made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street. Amelia grabbed ahold of the armrest on the door and held on as he began to speed up. “It'd be good to get there still breathing.”

  James responded by going faster. Yeah, they had a lot to work out, but Amelia wasn't sure that they'd be able to and that made her sad. It took them only about five minutes to get to the diner. “You should go inside. Too many people will recognize me.” He sank down low in the seat. “Get me some coffee.”

  “Sure. Why the hell not? Want anything to eat? Some pie?”

  “Pie sounds good. Make sure there's whipped cream,” James said without looking at her. Instead he stared over at the restaurant.

  There didn't seem to be many, if any, customers inside, from what Amelia could see through the window. Once she was inside, she realized that there were only three customers, a group of old men, at a table in one corner. In the other corner, Jillian and Ace stood toe to toe. They stopped their hushed argument at the sight of her.

 

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