Suds and Sam

by Stella Marie Alden

  I scoff. “Him? He’s a failed, fucking writer. The guy probably never held a weapon in his life. Well, before today.”

  Slate scowls as he stares at the screen. “It makes him more dangerous, not less.”

  In this situation, I have to agree. Goddammit. A man holds my woman at gunpoint and is probably clueless how easily the trigger can go off. I consider calling her Dad and her Uncle but think better of it. They’d go in with guns blazing where more finesse is called for.

  When the plane tilts, Slate sits, buckles his seat belt, and motions for me to do the same.

  My ears pop as we change altitude and my boss tries to calm me. “If Will hasn’t shot her yet, he wants something from her, something he can only get in DC.”

  Intellectually, I agree. Emotionally, I’m a fucking wreck. I want to tear the mother fucker limb from limb. Hell, he cheated on her, mooched off from her for years and when she finally frees herself from him, he kidnaps her?

  If he harms her, the man better shoot himself because what I will do is far worse.

  Chapter 28

  Suds

  Just outside of DC, Will shoves me to the front of the moving bus and holds a gun to the driver’s head. “Pull over, open the door, and leave or I shoot. Got it?”

  The driver looks into my eyes and I bravely nod. “He’s serious. Do it.”

  Streetlamps nonexistent, I stumble in the dark in front of abandoned two story homes. A few curtains move when a dog barks but, other than that it’s pitch black.

  “Move it.” Will uses his cellphone app to light our way over the guard rail, down an embankment, and into another neighborhood of burnt-out brick high-rises.

  In a way, it’s good I can’t see because the place reeks of human excrement and other fumes so awful I wonder if there’s dead bodies.

  If I ever get out of this situation, I’m signing up for some kind of martial arts. I picture Will going down with a sidekick to the groin and feel a whole lot better.

  His gun, a small Glock, prods me forward. It’s plenty powerful enough to kill me at close range.

  “Why’re you doing this? You sure as hell don’t love me.”

  “You left me no choice, Sam. Jesus. These people offered me big bucks. I’ll be able to finish my book. It’s your own damn fault.”

  He points me to a hole at the bottom of rotting plywood. “Under there.”

  People. What People? A chill runs down my spine. If I crawl beneath that board, I’m never coming out.

  When I pause, he raises his weapon and points it between my eyes. “I can just as easily shoot you here.”

  Easing onto my hands and knees, my palm squishes dog shit and I curse. Then, I worm my way into an open area in front of a five story brick building with a gaping hole instead of a front door.

  This is it! He can’t possibly shoot me while crawling. Using the residual light of the city reflecting off the clouds, I dash down the narrow alley between the buildings and moan when I reach a chain link fence topped with barbed wire.

  To my left, holes where windows used to be sit about three feet off the ground. I lift myself onto the closest ledge and roll onto the floor inside. Seconds later, Will’s light flashes across the ripped wall paper.

  “Fuck!” His curse echoes against the bricks, his light disappears, and I hold my breath.

  A few minutes later, his footsteps sound in the front of the building. Heart thumping, my hands in front of my face, I stumble over soft piles of God knows what as I make my way to an opening in the wall.

  I judge by the change in the air, I’m probably in a hallway. Feeling my way some more, I find a railing and a dark shadow turns into a staircase. With Will’s footsteps growing closer, I have no choice but to climb up.

  Stopping when the middle stair creaks, I cringe as a beam of light catches my calves. To hell with it. I dash up the stairs and at the top landing, I open a door only to be blinded by a powerful flashlight.

  “Excellent. You’re here.” Congressman Bannerman chuckles as my eyes try to adjust. “You’ve turned out to be a lot of trouble, Ms. Russo. However, first things first. I must thank you for helping to prove my innocence. It’s a shame I have to kill you.”

  My mind whirs as Will pounds on the door. “Let me in. No killing her until I get paid.”

  Bannerman opens the door, shoots, and Will’s body clunks out in the hall. He gurgles, moans, and then there’s nothing but the pounding of my heart.

  Holy Fuck. I am in deep shit. I need to get him talking, anything to keep him from pulling the trigger again. “You got away with everything. Why risk killing me?”

  “Loose ends, my dear, loose ends.” He tsks-tsks.

  The man is paranoid. After the trial, why would anyone suspect him of killing his wife? Everything was so well staged to make it look as if evidence was planted. The whole affair was pure genius.

  “You were working with Agro-grow?” Facing him, I step back toward the door, wondering if I’ll get a chance to run.

  “Let’s say we have mutual interests. I want to get re-elected and they have money.”

  “And the save-the-environment thing?”

  “My wife. She ruined everything. So stupid. I tried to get her to stop going to her club meetings, stay out of politics but, she insisted on her little games. She actually hired a lobbyist. Can you believe it? I just couldn’t let it continue.”

  “I can see where it might be aggravating… I have to say, your acting was most convincing.”

  He puffs up. “I was a theater major for a while… played Hamlet. I was good.”

  I take another step back as I watch his gun hand. “To be or not to be, that is the question.”

  “No longer your question, I’m afraid I need to be going.” When he glances at his watch, my heart races.

  I don’t want to die. “Before you kill me, can I ask why? I honestly don’t know anything.”

  “It’s not so much what you know, as it is your very nature. Someday you would discover some small piece of evidence, perhaps a fingernail clipping or an email and you’d come after me. You are too damn good.”

  While I appreciate his faith in my abilities, I also realize there’ll be no arguing my way out of this.

  “And Will? How did you find him?”

  “My dear, I hired a detective.”

  “Can I ask, exactly how much you paid him?” I may never live to become a dick but it would be nice to know, before I die, if I could’ve made ends meet.

  “What does it matter?” His thick brows furrow and his jowls shake.

  “Just curious.” I shrug, praying I can keep him amused and somehow Suds will find me.

  He chuckles. “No harm in that, I suppose. He charged me a hundred dollars an hour.”

  “Plus expenses?”

  “Indeed.” He raises his gun. “Now, turn around and get down on your knees.”

  “Can I say a prayer first?”

  “No.”

  My time up, I think of Suds, my mom and dad, my cousins and even Uncle Vinny. “You do know my Uncle is Vincent Vitale, right?”

  He hisses. “No fucking way.”

  “Yes, way.”

  “Dammit. I’ll need to stage this slightly differently. Murder, suicide should work.” He backs up to go out the door and when he looks down I spring forward.

  I head butt him out of the room, close the door, and lock it behind him.

  He fires at the handle and through the wood, so I fall flat on the floor behind an old mattress.

  “Drop it Bannerman.”

  Suds?

  Then, there’s a scuffle in the hall, a shot is fired, and nothing.

  Chapter 29

  Suds

  “Sam? Dammit. Are you hurt? Answer me.” I pound on the bullet-ridden door, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  If that bastard hurt her, I’ll fucking put a bullet through his unconscious head and call it self-defense. I kick Bannerman’s gun away then kneel and cuff him while he bawls like a fuc
kin’ baby. Beside him lies the body of Sam’s dead ex.

  The most beautiful sound comes from behind the closed door. “Is it safe to come out?”

  It’s her. Thank God. Standing, I grab the door knob and let go real fast. “Babe, don’t touch the handle, it’s still hot.”

  “Okay. I got it.” She drops the rag she used to open the door and when she exits, I’m so damn glad to see her, I take her in my arms and kiss her until I’m sure she’s real.

  “Fucking-A, babe. What the hell?” My throat tightens when I think if how close I came to losing her.

  I’ll be damned if I’ll ever let her out of my sight again.

  Slate is still overhead and his voice sounds in my comm. “Got her?”

  “Sam fine. Ex dead. Bannerman wounded.”

  He swears up a storm and says, “I need to bring the bird back to the airport. Don’t say a fucking word until I get there.”

  “Y’all have my word. And thanks. Out.”

  “Out.” The helicopter thumps out of earshot as police vehicles arrive two at a time along with several ambulances.

  When the cops set up spotlights and shine them through the glassless window frames, I pull her close then shout out. “Don’t shoot.”

  Hopefully Slate clued them in so they don’t enter with guns blazing.

  While they rush up the stairs, she raises those big brown eyes. “How did you ever find me?”

  I’ll never tell her how close it was. “After Will made you get off the bus, the driver called nine-one-one. Jason heard it on the police band. Me and Slate were already at the airport and hopped on a bird. Using infra-red, we found your heat signatures. I rappelled onto a roof and bob’s-your-uncle.”

  She slides into my arms and I hold her, not quite yet believing I got to her in time. When I find her lips, they’re willing and open. I kiss her fully and thoroughly until I’m sure this isn’t a dream and she’s okay.

  A man wearing a dark navy Kevlar vest clears his throat at the top of the stairs, rifle aimed. “DC police. Are you armed?”

  I nod as we raise our arms.

  “Remove it real slow like and kick it to me.”

  I do as he says as he swears under his breath and drops to his knees beside Bannerman, checks his pulse, and puts pressure on his bleeding shoulder.

  “We need paramedics stat.”

  He checks Will’s pulse quickly, shakes his head, and turns his steely gaze to Sam. “Is he the man who kidnapped you?”

  “Yeah.” She shivers so I put my arm around her as the paramedics deal with the congressman.

  “That nutcase shot me. Arrest him.” The policeman glances down at the cuffs and then up at me.

  “The motherfucker tried to kill Sam. Ask him what he was doing out here in the middle of the night why don’tcha?”

  Sam mutters, “He played Hamlet in college. Pretty good acting, right?”

  “No shit.”

  A DC cop nods to another wearing plastic gloves who bags my weapon, frowns, and tries to pull me away from Sam. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to search you two.”

  He finds my backup weapon, and my boot knives, but misses the garrote in my belt.

  I stare with my mouth dropped open when they come up empty handed after searching her.

  “Nothing?” “Not even a knife in your boot?” Have I taught her nothing?

  She does this little head shake thing like it’s my fault. “You said the danger was over.”

  We have some serious talking to do. “A private investigator is always armed, always prepared, understand?”

  She grins. “Does this mean you believe I can do it?”

  The cop steps between us, hands out like stopping traffic in both directions. “If you don’t mind, I need to ask you both a few questions.”

  “Shoot.” I step back with my arms up.

  “Poor choice of words, luv.” Sam cringes but I grin at her tender endearment.

  “Fire away?”

  The policeman seems to have no sense of humor and motions us forward where it’s more brightly lit. In the street below, sirens scream as an ambulance drives the congressman away with its red lights spinning around the front of the burnt-out buildings.

  “Can you tell me what went on here?” The cop pulls out a little notepad.

  Sam’s gaze narrows on the spiral-bound book. “Don’t they give you guys a phone app or something? Seriously?”

  “Excuse me?” The fiftyish man raises gray brows.

  She points to his pad. “That.”

  “Miss, if you could, just answer the question.”

  “What question?”

  His eyes roll. “I asked you what went on here.”

  She pouts and rolls out her lower lip. “How far back you want me to go?”

  “Wherever you feel comfortable.” When he relaxes, I stifle a laugh. Dude, you are in for a long night.

  “Well, Congressman Bannerman murdered his wife and-”

  “Really? What an idiot. He was free and clear. Why in the world get mixed up in this?” The cop growls but I don’t care. This shit is important.

  “He said I was a loose end.” She beams like she’s won lotto. “He thought I was going to find him out. Isn’t that cool?”

  Clearing his throat again, the cop scratches his head. “How about you start when your boyfriend stopped the bus.”

  “Ex-boyfriend.” She glares at the cop until he mutters an apology through his teeth.

  “Well, Will led me to here and I crawled under some plywood through dog shit.” She raises her hands to prove her story.

  Walking two steps she leans over the ledge and calls out the window’s opening. “Excuse me, does anyone have a wet wipe?”

  She holds up filthy hands and wrinkles her nose. “Dog shit.”

  The policeman steps back and when a woman officer hands her a wipe, I have to scrape a hand across my chin to hide my laugh.

  “Miss, please?”

  I feel sorry for him but Sam is oblivious. “After the dog shit incident, Will followed me under the plywood. When he put his gun down, I escaped and ran into this building. Can you imagine my surprise when I went into the bedroom and found Congressman Bannerman about to kill me? Anyhow, when Will demanded to be paid, Bannerman shot him. Then, before he could shoot me, I rammed him with the top of my head and locked the door.”

  My whole body goes tight at the thought of her in so much danger.

  “Who shot the congressman?”

  She shrugs and turns to me. “I didn’t see it because, if you were listening you would know, I was behind the door.”

  “Did you? Shoot him?” The cop turns to me.

  “Damn straight I did. I told him to drop the weapon but he pointed it straight at me. Fuckin’ idiot. He’s lucky I went for his shoulder instead of his heart.”

  A dark sedan rolls up outside and a man wearing an FBI windbreaker gets out of his car.

  She moans so I ask, “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s my old boss.”

  I can’t help but grin and whisper in her ear. “Time for a little payback. Don’t say one word more until Patten’s lawyer arrives.”

  Chapter 30

  Sam

  Suds holds my hand while someone offers me a blanket and another hands me a water. He insists I’m going into shock but I’m going to be a private detective and as such, that could just not be true. I’m a little chilled and having a hard time thinking. It’s been a long day and I placed my hand in a deep pile of dog manure. Even Sherlock Holmes would’ve been grossed out.

  “I’ll be fine.” I catch Sebastian searching my face. For what, I’m not sure.

  We walk past my old office, now occupied by a male millennial, still working despite the fact it’s almost midnight. I wonder how much of me getting fired had to do with the fact my salary had reached the ceiling.

  Maybe I’ll ask Jenna if she and Jason can look into it. It’d feel damn fine to sue the FBI for firing me without cause. I was the b
est damn analyst they ever had and I can prove it by the number of cases I closed. I wonder if they actually outsourced me or hired a younger, cheaper agent instead.

  Righteous revenge clouds my thoughts as my former boss, Special Agent Foster sits down across from me in one of our interrogation rooms. It’s similar to the one where I met Suds when he got me fired.

  It was the best day of my life but at the time I was devastated. I wish I could go back in time and give myself a pep talk.

  I smile broadly. Now that he has no power over me, it’s easier to notice the deep circles under his eyes and the way his cheek muscle tics.

  A member of congress got shot in his city and he has to make sense of it without me. Good luck with artificial intelligence, a millennial, and a team of Irishmen.

  His eyes narrow. “Something funny, Miss Russo?”

  “Nope. Just thinking.”

  “Are you willing to start talking? Let me tell you, your bodyguard boyfriend is going to.”

  I guffaw. “Suds?” I picture him spinning a tale, starting from the birth of Christ. “Yes, I bet he is.”

  “This is no laughing matter. One man died and another was shot.”

  A murderer and a madman, I think to myself but I’ll wait for a lawyer before I spill my guts. For the hundredth time this evening I thank God Suds found me and yet feel bad for Will. Even though he kidnapped me, he must’ve been suffering. I bet the medical examiner will discover drugs in his system.

  The door to the room pops open. Then, a man in an expensive suit leans over the table and shoots out his hand. “Miss Russo? I’m your lawyer, Andrew Quinn.”

  Special Agent Foster’s eyes pop open. “Patten is pulling out all the stops. Makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”

  Quinn smiles like he’s holding all aces. “Not at all. I just happened to be in town. Give me a moment, if you would.” He opens a file and studies it while Foster’s cheek twitches faster.

  About fifteen minutes later, he looks up. “Feel free to begin your questioning.”

  The agent clicks a switch under the table and announces our case number along with the date and time. The small room holds a corner camera and a room mic in the ceiling. Anything I say, even under my breath, can be heard.