Yours to Savor

by Scarlett Edwards

  Brandon grunted again. “Maybe we can find something in his room that’ll tell us where he is.”

  “It’s back this way.”

  There were only two bedrooms in the house, a kitchenette, and a small living area. All of it was filled with clutter that Sandra was sure would have taken years to accumulate. Josh always complained how his mother could never bring herself to throw out her belongings, no matter how useless, grubby, or old they were.

  Brandon flicked on the lights in Josh’s bedroom. Piles of clothes made a mess of the place, and dust bunnies curled up in every corner. There was a bed, sheets tossed about, an old desk with peeling veneer, and a small, open closet. The room was even smaller than Sandra’s apartment.

  “Start looking,” Brandon commanded.

  “For what?”

  “Anything that might help us.”

  Sandra nodded, and started overturning the piles of clothes. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but hoped she would recognize it when she saw it. A few minutes later, she was picking her way across the room toward the desk when Brandon’s voice called out. “Check this out.”

  He was standing at the closet, having unearthed something beneath another pile of clothes. Sandra came over, and gasped.

  Brandon had been right.

  Atop a shoebox, hidden in the far corner of the closet, was a quart Ziploc bag filled with dozens of smaller baggies of weed.

  “That’s just a distraction.” Brandon picked the Ziploc up, tossed it aside, and kicked at the shoebox. “That’s the mother lode.”

  Sandra squatted down and pulled the shoebox forward. She opened it—and drew another breath in surprise. The carton was stuffed full of fifty- and hundred-dollar bills. Sandra had never seen so much money in one place.

  “The top right corner,” Brandon said.

  “What?”

  “Look there.”

  Sandra picked away the bills, feeling a little sleazy. That feeling was overshadowed by the indignation that was building toward Josh. She’d considered him a younger brother, and discovering all this was like a slap in the face. He had lied to her about Brandon, and about himself. And she’d believed him, instead of believing Brandon. Josh was the one who had betrayed her trust.

  Under the bills, in the corner, Sandra felt something the size of her thumb. It was wrapped up in tinfoil.

  “That’s it,” Brandon said.

  Sandra picked it up, frowning. A little trail of white powder spilled out.

  “Give it to me.”

  Sandra handed it to Brandon. He opened the foil package carefully, pinched the bit of powder inside, and brought it to his lips. “Just as I thought.”

  “What? What is it?”

  “What do you think?”

  Sandra knew, but she didn’t want to say it. She shook her head.

  “It’s cocaine,” Brandon said. “This is what got Josh in trouble, if nothing else. It’s low grade stuff, not totally pure, but I bet he couldn’t tell the difference.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “That’s the question. Mark wouldn’t have given it to him. Josh might have gotten somebody else to do it. Josh was persistent. He may even have been set up.”

  “Set up? Wait—who’s Mark?”

  “Mark’s someone who works for me. He oversees the Seattle area. He makes sure the operation on the west coast stays smooth. He got wind of Josh dealing in the first place.” Brandon paused. “Mark’s also a bit of a nut,” he admitted.

  Sandra’s chest tightened. “A nut?”

  “He was never the best choice for us. He’s smart, but has a temper. He gets too emotional at times. But, he knew the area well, and we needed someone local. He’s worked for me and Clarisse for four years without a hitch—though I’ve always suspected he’s been after more than just running the Seattle operation. He gets jealous of anybody dealing on his turf, and Josh—” Brandon motioned to the box of money, “—has had more success than most. That’s how he got Mark’s attention. Mark went to Clarisse, who asked me to come out here and smooth things over. That’s what I do.”

  “What would Mark want with Josh now?”

  “That’s the problem,” Brandon said gravely. “I don’t know. That’s why we have to find Josh immediately. Is there anybody else who might know where he was last?”

  Sandra thought for a bit, then exclaimed, “Cassie! I didn’t think of it before, but Josh was supposed to have the late shift at the coffee shop today.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Brandon sprinted to the car. As soon as Sandra got in, he floored the gas.

  He ran red lights and stop signs to get to Cassie’s Blend. Every minute lost gave Mark another minute to do something stupid.

  The coffee shop was still open. Brandon screeched to a stop in the middle of the road. Sandra jumped out before he could turn the engine off, but he followed closely on her heels.

  “Sandra! Brandon! I haven’t seen you two in forever!” Cassie jumped up, a wide smile on her face as she came to greet them. When Brandon didn’t return the smile, Cassie’s expression turned serious. “What’s going on?”

  “Josh,” Sandra said. “He might be in trouble.”

  “Is in trouble,” Brandon corrected. “When did you see him last?”

  Cassie frowned. “He left a while ago, even though just last week he asked for the extra shift. He left on that motorcycle. I don’t like him riding it, no matter what he says. It’s foolhardy. I know he worked hard to save up for it, and bought it himself, but I don’t like it anyway.”

  “Where?” Brandon stressed. “Where did he say he was going?”

  “Heavens, I wouldn’t know! He’s been strangely distant lately. I think he’s hiding something.”

  Sandra took Cassie’s hands in her own. “You’re more right than you would ever believe.”

  Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “He is hiding something, isn’t he? Well, what is it? Out with it, come on! I have a right to know. I’ve basically raised that boy myself these last two years.”

  “There’s no time now,” Brandon said. “We have to find him first. How long ago did he leave?”

  “An hour and a half, two hours? It’s serious, isn’t it?” Cassie asked anxiously.

  “Very,” Brandon confirmed.

  As they turned to go, Cassie called after them, “See him safe! He’s a good kid, and his mother would be so worried if she knew anything was wrong.”

  Brandon stopped, wheeled around. “Not a word of this to her.”

  Cassie regarded him for a moment, and he feared he would have to confront her before she accepted. But she surprised him by nodding in acquiescence. “I promise.”

  Brandon found Sandra already in the car. He got in, but had to restrain himself from driving too fast. This time, it wouldn’t just be his life lost in a crash.

  “Mark would have set up a meeting with Josh. Outside the city. Somewhere neutral for both of them, he would say, but the truth is he’d want to be as far away from people as possible. I know a few places like that from here to Seattle.”

  “We can’t possibly go to all of them, can we?”

  “That’s what I plan on doing. It’s our only lead.”

  “What if we call the cops? If they help, we could find Josh faster.”

  Brandon barked a laugh. “They would come, but they would fuck everything up in a hurry. The thing cops are best at is announcing their presence. Their sirens would spook Mark and put Josh in even more danger. No, we can’t risk it.”

  “…Brandon?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why are you doing this? What does it matter to you what happens to Josh?”

  “It matters, Sandra. Trust me. I told you, after your sister died, I changed. I started dealing just to make money, of course, because it was the only thing available to me. And I stayed in it for the money, but ever since the fire, I also thought… I don’t know, that maybe I could make a difference.” He clenched
his hands against the wheel. “Who else is in a position to turn these kids away from a life of crime and addiction? Their parents?” Brandon scoffed. “Parents are the reason half these kids turn to drugs in the first place. The cops? They’re clumsy, inept, and more important, authorities. The kids won’t take advice from authorities they’re rebelling against. But me? I’m on the inside, one of the few who can make a difference. That’s why I do what I do. As much as possible, I want to prevent kids who have their whole lives ahead of them from making the wrong choices early on. If they get sucked into drugs and crime in their teens, there’s no escape.” He exhaled slowly. “It’s like this, Sandra. If a fifty-year-old movie producer wants his fix, I’m his man; if his fifteen-year-old son asks for the same, I do all I can to scare him off. Sometimes it takes aggression, sometimes persuasion. Sometimes, all a boy needs is someone he trusts to listen to his problems and show him they can go away. That’s what I try to do.”

  “I believe you.”

  Brandon blinked, and dared a glance over at her. “What?”

  “I believe you,” Sandra repeated. “About everything.” She was looking straight ahead, jaw set, determination clear in those dark eyes. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Brandon. But I believe you, now.”

  He dared to reach over, take her hand in his, and squeeze. She didn’t jerk away, but she didn’t squeeze his hand back, either. “We’ll find Josh,” he promised her. “I swear on my life. We’ll find him tonight.”

  Sandra looked over, just for a second. Brandon’s breath caught as he felt those eyes wash over him and draw him in. “I thought I could trust him, but he was the one who lied to me. He made up such an elaborate story about you. Despite that, I don’t wish him any harm. I trust you when you say you’ll do your best.”

  Brandon put both hands back on the wheel. Feeling Sandra’s warmth in his palm sparked emotions in him that he couldn’t acknowledge tonight. Not until he dealt with Mark.

  “There!” Sandra exclaimed. “There, right there!”

  Brandon stopped the car. “I don’t see it.”

  “In the distance, under the trees!” It was a shadow of a bike, far away, but Sandra had seen Josh’s bike before. This one was unmistakably his.

  “I still don’t see it. Are you sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “Alright.” He turned the engine off. This was the third place they’d stopped. The first had been an abandoned shell of an old restaurant, the second a tall warehouse. This was an old farm nestled between tall evergreens and standing before a long, narrow field of weeds. “I’m going to go in. Sandra, I want you to stay here—”

  “No.”

  “It’s the safest place for you.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to be very inconspicuous in a yellow Ferrari,” Sandra commented.

  Brandon grunted. “It’s not that. It’s just… things might get dangerous inside. I don’t want you frightened.”

  “I’m a big girl,” she said firmly. “I can handle myself.”

  “You’re not listening again, dammit!” Brandon surprised her by slamming both fists against the wheel. “If anything—and I mean anything—happened to you tonight, I could never live with myself.”

  Careful, a small voice in the back of her mind cautioned. He didn’t lie outright, but he didn’t tell the whole truth, either, she thought. Josh was the one who had lied to her.

  Brandon, in his particular way, had given her just the amount of truth she could handle, piece by piece. She’d been too dense to see it before, but she had to admit now, that if Brandon had told her earlier of his profession—or of her sister—it would have scared her away.

  Maybe she’d been too quick to judge. Her heart still beat for him. So, she dared a small smile. “Then you’d better make sure nothing does.”

  A growl came from his throat, the virile sound she’d associated with him when he was displeased. But the corner of his lips twitched up in a smile. “You’re not going to let me leave you here alone, are you?”

  “No,” she said quietly but firmly.

  “Then we’re losing time,” Brandon said, heading toward the farm house.

  Sandra stayed low as she made her way around the coupe to meet Brandon on the other side. He was fiddling with something at his ankle, and Sandra was surprised once again when she saw him pull out a 9 mm semi-automatic from a hidden holster.

  “It pays to be prepared,” he said when he noticed her staring at the gun. “When we get inside, no matter what you see—no matter what!—you need to stay behind me.”

  “I—”

  “No arguments this time, Sandra.”

  “I wasn’t about to argue,” she said in her most dignified voice, tossing her hair back. Brandon grunted, but didn’t say anything else.

  Together, they crept toward the farm house, crouched low to avoid unwanted attention. When they got to the outside wall, Brandon led the way around. At the next corner he stopped, grunted again. “This is definitely the place.” Sandra saw two black cars parked ahead of them. “Come on.”

  He led her farther around the barn. Sandra kept her eyes peeled for anything in the dark. A thin stream of light shone from under the crack of one of the main doors. Brandon stopped again, and pointed up.

  “There,” he whispered. There were stairs leading up to the second level on the outside of the building. A window was cracked open at the top. Together, they sneaked up the old steps. Sandra cringed every time they creaked under her weight.

  Thankfully, they didn’t draw any attention. Brandon crept to the window, crouching low, and jimmied it open with his hands. Then, he carefully lifted it up, and put his head in to look both ways. After a moment, he emerged.

  “It’s safe.” He held it open for her. “You first. Be quiet, and quick!”

  Sandra slipped over the windowsill. Brandon scrambled in after her. Sandra found herself on an inside terrace that ran around the perimeter of the building. It was littered with old crates and stacks of hay, as well as farming tools covered with rust. Some of the crates stood right in front of her, obstructing the view below.

  Sandra heard someone cry out in pain. Instantly, she recognized Josh’s voice. Her heart froze in her chest.

  Brandon put a finger to his lips. Silence. He crept to the edge of the balcony, motioning for Sandra to stay back. He peeked around a crate, then turned back to her. “There are two of them,” he whispered, “but there might be more. Josh is strapped to a chair.”

  “What are they doing to him?”

  “Making sure he learns his lesson.”

  Sandra was unsure what to make of that. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see. Come on.”

  Brandon led the way to an interior ladder. As they descended, the voices from the ground floor became clearer.

  “You think you can just intrude on my territory? You think I’d allow some disrespectful brat to fuck me in the ass?” Sandra heard a slap, followed by a whimper. “No! I own this land. You’re nothing but a pest—and we get rid of pests.”

  Brandon motioned again for her to stay quiet. He crept to another wooden crate, then waved for Sandra to follow. She moved carefully, never making a sound, and reached him. He took hold of her shoulders and quietly drew her to one side, so she could see around the crate.

  When she saw Josh, it was all she could do to suppress a horrified gasp. One side of his face was swollen to twice its size and so heavily bruised that his eye was completely shut. Sweat drenched his skin, and his nose leaked blood into his split upper lip.

  There were two men with him. One was standing by the chair—a brute of a man who looked like he took pleasure in seeing Josh hurt. The other man was pacing back and forth a few feet away from them, hands clasped behind his back. His long ponytail hung loose. He was the owner of the voice Sandra heard before. “Well?” the man with the ponytail demanded of Josh. “What do you have to say for yourself? Hold him up!”

  That last was a command for his burly com
panion. He gave a sickening smile, and put a hand in Josh’s hair to jerk his head up cruelly. Josh whimpered in pain. But he spoke. “You… you tricked me! I came here because I trusted you! You said you’d include me if I proved my worth!”

  “No,” the man with the ponytail replied, “I never said I’d include you. I said I’d consider it.”

  Sandra turned back to Brandon. “Who is that?”

  “Mark’s the one talking. The other guy—I’ve never seen him before. He could be a problem.”

  “A problem? What do you mean?”

  Brandon ignored the question. “Stay here. And remember: Don’t expose yourself.”

  “What are you doing—”

  She cut off as Brandon stood up, and walked out into the open. “Mark.”

  Sandra noticed a tiny gap in the crate that allowed her to see what was going on. She pressed one eye to it. The man with the ponytail whirled around upon hearing his name. He had a trimmed beard, pale white skin, and darting eyes that widened as they took Brandon in. “Brandon! What… what are you doing here?”

  “I came to get Josh.”

  “This punk? What do you want with him?”

  “I told you I’d deal with him.” Sandra noticed Brandon had tucked his gun into the back of his pants, where it was invisible to Mark and his crony. “Yet you decided to take matters into your own hands.” Brandon’s tone was as cold as ice.

  “That’s bullshit! You didn’t deal with him!” Mark shouted.

  “That’s not your decision to make, Mark,” Brandon said levelly.

  The bulky man scowled, and looked at Mark, awaiting orders. Brandon didn’t spare him a glance. He ignored the heavyset man as he would a fly. Sandra could see how it infuriated the burly man. Mark waved a hand at his companion to stand down. The big man obeyed reluctantly.

  Meanwhile, Josh was quivering in his seat. With his hands bound behind him, he couldn’t stop the blood from trailing down his chin. He was completely helpless. He looked terrified. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked, his eyes darting from Mark to Brandon and back again.

  Brandon strolled over to Josh, and leaned down beside him. “I warned you this might happen.” Brandon’s words were soft but impactful, like the first touch of frostbite. “I warned you where you’d end up if you kept dealing.”