by Cindy Stark
It was Cates' turn to jump up from his chair. "What the hell are we sitting here for?"
* * *
Allie glanced sideways at the man driving the flashy, new black Porsche. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out what Jase saw in Max. He gave her the chills. The first time she'd met him, she'd gotten a creepy feeling about him. Since then, Max hadn't given her any reason to change her mind.
"You need to turn here," Allie directed. "And then take the next left." It had been a long time since she'd been near her old home. The neighborhood still needed a good washing and a fresh coat of paint. A few of her old haunts had been boarded up, but it seemed not much else had changed. She wondered if Aunt Rita lived in the same house. She snorted. Had her aunt ever cared enough to wonder what had happened to her?
Max flipped on the windshield wipers, clearing away the drizzle of rain that spotted the front window and kept the majority of the people off the streets. "Something funny?"
"No, I wasn't laughing." She really didn't want to converse with the man. She wanted to find Jase. "I was just thinking about when I used to live here."
"Long time ago, huh?" He slanted a glance at her. "You sure have changed."
She raked her fingers through her short hair and glanced out the side window. "Should we try calling Jase again?"
"Doubt he'll answer."
Max had already called him once, leaving a message saying they were on their way to find the item they'd all been looking for. Max had also said if they didn't find him there, then they'd go back to Jase's place.
She sighed, looking forward, watching as the wipers made another trek across the window. She and Max were almost there. She couldn't wait to get away from him and find Jase.
Max turned the corner onto the littered street and pulled up in front of the bowling alley. Not much had changed in the last six years. Brad's Bowling looked as shabby as ever. But what bothered her most was the fact none of the cars parked along the narrow street looked like they belonged to Jase. They were all dilapidated, broken heaps of metal.
"It doesn't look like he's here." She worried her bottom lip as she glanced at Max. "Do you think he's already come and gone?"
Max opened his door. "There's only one way to find out."
With a sense of apprehension, Allie climbed out of the car. If Jase had already left, then they'd have to turn around and go back to Jase's apartment. If he hadn't arrived yet, then where was he?
Max held open the glass door of the bowling alley, letting her enter first. Other than the light coming from the doorway and the lights at the end of the bowling lanes, the room was darkened. The smell of stale cigarettes permeated the air.
Allie walked inside, letting old memories wash over her. She had enjoyed working for Mr. Wood. In that moment, she missed Joey, his handsome face and engaging laugh. Now, he was long gone and buried. A sad smile settled on her lips. They'd had so much fun together.
"Can I help you?" A wiry, older man appeared in the doorway of the office. Bradley Wood. His light blue shirt was stained with grease, and he looked like he could use a good meal. "We don't usually see too many bowlers until a little later, but..."
"Mr. Wood?" She and Joey had often joked about what kind of parents would name their child Brad Wood. Joey would tease her and ask who would want to own a bowling alley, and she'd answer, "Brad would".
The man stepped a little closer, and Allie could see he'd acquired quite a few more wrinkles since she'd known him. "I'm Mr. Wood. Is there something I can help you with?"
Allie smiled then and moved toward him with her hand out. "It's Allie, Allie Jordan."
Brad squinted and then returned her smile as he took her hand. His appearance didn't do justice to the strength she felt in his grip. "My goodness, Allie, you sure have grown up. I remember when—" He stopped, his smile fading. "Well, you know."
"I do, Mr. Wood. I remember having some of the best times here." Her memories clogged in her throat as unexpected tears sprang to her eyes. She swiped them away and glanced at Max to see his reaction. He nodded, encouraging her to continue.
She took a deep breath. "Mr. Wood, I'm wondering if you still—"
"I do," he interrupted, and she gave him a questioning smile. "I know what you're here for." He turned and started walking toward the row of lockers.
Allie followed behind him with Max bringing up the rear. Jase obviously hadn't been to the bowling alley, yet. Where the hell was he? Something wasn't right, but she couldn't go looking for him until she searched the locker for the evidence that would set Jase free.
Mr. Wood stopped and put a hand on Joey's old locker. "I haven't touched his stuff all these years."
"Why ever not?" She was glad he hadn't, but still, it seemed strange.
Brad stopped at the end of the row and looked at Allie, his own emotions clouding his features. "I don't know. I did try to open it at first, but he had a lock on it. I couldn't bring myself to cut it off." He shook his head. "You know, I loved that boy like he was my own." He glanced at Max and then back at her. "I never had any children, you see. Joey was a wild one, to be sure, but I've never met a harder worker in all my life. We'd spend Saturdays waxing the lanes and talking. About you, mostly." The older man smiled. "He loved you, you know."
Allie couldn't swallow. She'd convinced herself in the years since Joey's death he couldn't possibly have loved her, but maybe...maybe in his way, he had. She nodded, not feeling like she could speak.
"Anyway…" The man paused as he lifted the old barrel lock which was still intact. "I couldn't bring myself to cut off the lock, like I said. It just seemed wrong. I figured you'd come to claim his ball since you were the only one who knew he came here, but then you didn't show up at the funeral, and I…" He shrugged and gave her a sad smile.
"I couldn't come then, Mr. Wood. It was too dangerous."
The man agreed. "I wondered." He glanced at Max. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Do you need the bolt cutters?"
"No, I think I have the combination."
"Okay, then." The man nodded and walked back toward his office.
Allie pushed aside her memories. She had an important job to do. She moistened her lips as a forceful shiver made its way through her body. This was it. She glanced at Max who'd moved closer and now stood next to her elbow.
"Open it."
She lifted the barrel lock, the combination easy to remember. She turned the dials in order. Three, six, something, five, six, nine. But what was the "something"? The unknown? She used the number one on her first attempt and pulled. It didn't open.
"I thought you knew the combination," Max whispered in her ear.
She wanted to elbow him in the gut. "The last number was blown away by a bullet, okay?" She did elbow him then, but not as hard as she would have liked. "Give me a minute."
She tried two and then three. Nothing either time. Then she tried four and when the lock released, she gasped. It had worked. Jase was right. Her pulse grew faster. It had to be the recording or something equally important. Otherwise, Joey wouldn't have tattooed the combination on them. But why would he put half of the combination on him and half on her?
Had he known he might be killed? Had he done it for her?
She opened the locker and there was Joey's dusty blue bag. Joey had won it in a game of poker. She opened it, sticking her hand down inside, around the ball. Her fingers ran across a hard metallic rectangle, and she jerked her gaze toward Max. She lifted the recorder from the bag.
"Leave it in there."
"But—"
Max shook his head and glanced at the office. He didn't want Mr. Wood to notice. Maybe he was right on that account. The less people who knew about it, the better. Allie closed the bag, tingles skittering through her.
She'd found the key to their freedom.
Max took over, pushing her out of the way. The weight of the ball inside the bag straightened Max's arm. Allie watched as Jase's cohort took a quick look inside the locker, feeling the edge
s and pushing against all sides of the metal box.
"That's all. Let's go." He jerked his head toward the door, apparently satisfied he'd retrieved everything they'd come for. His steps were quick as he headed for the exit.
Allie hurried behind, wondering if he'd actually leave her. "Goodbye, Mr. Wood," she called as she reached the doorway. "I'll come see you again." She didn't have time to wait for a reply.
Max was already in his car with the engine running when she slipped inside. Joey's bag sat on the floor in front of her seat, and she had to spread her feet in order to get comfortable. "You can't leave without me." She threw an irritated look in his direction.
"I guess you'd better hurry then." Any trace of cordiality had left his voice. Apparently, once he had what he wanted, he didn't concern himself with being nice.
Instead of telling him off like she wanted to do, she remained silent. Her police training had taught her when to confront and when to let things go. Right now, her instincts told her to lay low.
After a few minutes, though, it became pretty obvious Max wasn't heading back to Jase's penthouse. In that moment, she knew leaving with Max had been a mistake. How big of a mistake? She wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
Rain pounded harder on the windshield, mimicking her increasing heartbeat. Max was up to something, and she needed to remain calm until she figured out what it was. She tugged her purse and the hidden gun closer to her. "Where are we going?"
Max snorted, but didn't look at her. "We're taking this somewhere safe."
Allie slowly slipped her hand inside her purse.
"I wouldn't do that."
She froze in place. "What?"
"Pull out your gun." He glanced at her this time, seeming confident and sure, enough so that she hesitated. "Yeah, Cates told me you were a cop."
She blinked, stunned. "Cates is a crooked cop?"
"Nah." He chuckled. "I was a source for him. He just wanted to see what would happen when he threw you and Jase together. That's how Jase knew to be at the party last night."
She took out her gun anyway and pointed it at him. "I don't know what your plans are, but I do know I'm not going to be a part of them." The rain gushed down outside, but that was preferable to being in the car with Max. "You need to pull over right now."
He kept driving. "You might want to rethink that if you want to keep Jase alive." He turned down a narrow alley. "You see, he's my guarantee now you'll do what I ask."
Allie gasped. "That's why Jase didn't come back? You have him?" Could she have been that naïve? "Did you set this whole thing up?"
Max shrugged. "He might think he's the boss, but this particular scene is going down my way." Halfway down the back alley, Max stopped in front of a large garage door and punched in a number on his phone. "It's Max. Tell Benny I've got what he wants, and I'm expecting what he promised me." He closed his phone and turned to her with a cunning grin.
"Why should I believe you have Jase?" Although, there really was no other explanation as to why he hadn't come back.
"What choice do you have?"
None. She couldn't gamble on Jase's life.
"I'll take your gun now. You take it in there, and you'll get your head blown off."
"Like they're not going to blow it off anyway." She pulled her Glock out of her purse and thrust it at him, feeling completely incompetent.
"I'll take your phone, too."
How could she have been so gullible? She handed over her old Blackberry. "I guess that call to Jase's cell phone was a fake, too?"
She wanted to slap the Cheshire smile off Max's face as he tucked her gun inside his jacket. "Sorry, darlin'. I hate to tell you, but you're right. Guess I'm glad you didn't figure that out sooner." He reached over and patted her thigh, and she silently wished him dead.
She swallowed the sickening lump in her throat. She had no obvious options at the moment. She could try to get away now, but what if that cost Jase his life? Fact was, it was probably too late for both of them. She couldn't see any reason Max would turn them loose. And she couldn't leave Jase to fend for himself. Funny how his overprotective ways had always irritated her. Now, here she was, acting the same way.
She'd have to keep her cool and wait for an opportunity.
And pray.
The garage door finally lifted, and Max pulled inside the darkened enclosure. The sight of five men with automatic weapons pointed at them instantly brought back memories of that day, six years earlier, when she'd been under similar circumstances. This time, she wasn't a scared young woman. She was a trained officer of the law, and she wasn't going down without a fight.
Max opened his door and the guns seemed to follow his movements. "Stay here for a minute while I work out the details." He shut the door behind him.
What the hell did that mean? Did he not have all the—
Allie stopped mid-thought as Tommy "Bones" Trasatti emerged from an office along the edge of the large warehouse. Max walked forward to meet him, the armed men all following along. Tommy was an impressive figure, dressed in a black suit, looking like he owned the world. She shivered, thinking of the few moments she'd spent dancing with him. At the party, he'd momentarily seemed harmless, even attractive, but here, surrounded by a dim warehouse and so many guns, it was easy to see him for the killer he was.
She shifted her focus to the blond mobster. Max had turned on Jase and now worked for the Trasatti organization? She had to admit she wasn't extremely surprised. And, she wasn't wasting any more time making assessments. Trasatti commanded the attention of his men, and since they all had their guns trained on Max, she assumed the men considered Max more of a threat than she was.
Big mistake on their part.
With her feet, she scooted Joey's bag as close to her seat as possible. Keeping her eyes trained on the men who were engrossed in a heated discussion, she leaned forward in her seat and undid the leather latch. The bowling ball was cool and smooth under her hand. She searched along the edges of the bag as adrenaline pounded through her body.
Bingo.
The small recorder fit nicely in her hand, and it might provide the leverage she needed to save Jase's life. She pulled it out, tucking it in her bra. Quickly, she refastened the bag.
Trasatti and Max were still deep in conversation, with Max gesturing wildly with his hands. Apparently, the "details" were not working out as favorably as Max had expected. She glanced around the perimeter of the building, looking for an escape, but unlike Jase's warehouse, none of the racks were very close. At least the men were on the opposite side of the car and more than a hundred feet away.
If she could exit the car without being noticed, it might give her a head start, a slim chance of survival. That was all she asked for. She might not be the smartest cop to ever join the police force, but no one could say she wasn't brave.
She ditched her heels on the floor of Max's car. They'd only be a hindrance. Quietly, she pulled on the door latch. It opened silently. She glanced at the party of mobsters, but no one seemed to take notice of her. Max's heated words provided the cover she needed.
Allie pushed the door open just enough to slip out onto the cold concrete floor. Grit from the surface covered her palms and knees. She quietly pushed the door closed, but not hard enough to latch it. Her heart raced as she scurried in the opposite direction toward the racks, as much out of the line of sight as possible.
"I don't give a fuck, Trasatti." Max's voice echoed across the open building. "You want it, you pay. Every last cent. Today. If not, I'm sure Tyler will be more than happy to give me what I want."
Tommy Trasatti's voice tempered Max's emotion. "You know we want it, Max. You've done good work for us, and we want to reward you. But you know I don't have that kind of cash on hand. It'll take me one, maybe two days to get it."
"Bullshit!"
"Tyler won't be able to get that amount of money any sooner." Tommy's voice was lower, calmer.
"Oh, fuck that. I put myself on the line for you
. I should have known. Fuck you. I should have known you were a double-crossing son of a bitch."
Allie reached the racks and the temporary safety they provided. Silence had ensued in the building, and she was tempted to sneak a peek at the men to see what had happened, but that would be asking for trouble. She hurried toward the farthest end of the aisle, hoping there would be some sort of emergency exit.
There wasn't.
"Give us the recording, Max." Tommy no longer seemed as composed, his voice now raised and angry like Max's. "You give it to us now, and you'll still get your money. If not..."
"Fuck you, Trasatti."
A moment passed and Allie heard the sound of a car door shutting. Did Max intend to leave? What did he think about her absence?
An engine started, and then there was the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired. She was sure a windshield shattered, and she pictured Max sitting in his car with a bullet between his eyes. That meant her time was up. They were certain to notice her absence now.
Just as she suspected, the sounds of chaos followed.
"The girl's gone," one man shouted, and Allie knew they would spread out to look for her.
"Search the car for the recording, and put this sack of shit in the trunk. We'll dispose of the body later." Tommy's voice commanded his group. "And find the girl. Now."
Allie's heart rate shifted into triple time. There was no exit, not without slipping past his men. She had to hide.
At the end of the aisle, she glanced at the stacks of boxes towering over her. Televisions, cases of Blue Ray and DVD players, and stereo equipment. A good chance none of it was legal.
She didn't care.
She grabbed the metal rack and began to pull herself up the boxes. She needed to make it higher before Tommy's men found her. Luckily, the boxes were tightly stacked and afforded her some protection.
Three levels up, high enough she wouldn't be visible, she crawled in between boxes of TVs and the metal railing of the next level above it. Lying flat, she barely had room to slide herself forward, maneuvering along the tops of the boxes, back toward the entrance. The smell of dusty cardboard filled her nostrils, the boxes scratchy against her cheek.
