“What were you thinking, Jacks?”
“I don’t know.” She twisted the napkins in her hands. “I just wanted the two of you to get along. Now Mom’s mad at me.”
“She’ll get over it. If you want to make her get over it even faster, grovel.” I loaded the flatware into the dishwasher.
“Seriously, Rose, how do you stand it? It makes me crazy when she freezes me out like that.”
“I got used to it. It was preferable to kissing her ass.”
Jacks winced.
“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right.” She leaned against the fridge. “I’m a people pleaser. Always have been.”
I hugged her tight. “You’re a good person and a great mom.”
“Thanks.”
We finished the dishes and I left the kitchen and headed downstairs where Allen and my dad watched TV. I said goodbye and my dad gave me a distracted pat on the arm. Then I went upstairs and found my mother sitting alone in the living room, her laptop open on the sofa next to her. She looked up when I walked in.
“I’m taking off.”
“Oh.” She shifted slightly. “Any word on Axton?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She sighed heavily. “Honestly, can’t I even ask a simple question?” She shook her head and took off her reading glasses.
I decided to be honest for once. “No, Mom, not really. I feel like I need a lawyer before I answer anything or you may use it against me later.”
“Fine.” She turned her attention to her computer.
But I wasn’t quite finished with her. Normally, I let things slide off my back. It’s so pointless to argue with her, that I don’t bother. Sure I get pissed at her more aggressive than passive digs, and stew about it later, but rarely do I give her the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me. Tonight though, I was worried about Jacks.
“Listen.” I waited until she looked up before continuing. “I know you’re pissed—”
“Language.”
“Fine,” I conceded, “I know you’re angry at Jacks for arranging all this.” I wiggled my finger between the two of us. “And for interfering.” I paused to see if she would respond. If you could call an icy stare a response, then I guess I got one. “She meant well. And I don’t want you to be mean to her.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Rosalyn.”
“Huh, I’m sure you do, Mom.”
I found Scotty in his room, playing with his little racecars. “Play cars with me, Aunt Rose.”
“Sorry Sport, not tonight. How about a hug goodbye?”
He hopped up and ran to me, reaching out his arms. I caught him and swung him high before pulling him into a tight hug.
Back downstairs I kissed my sister on the cheek and thanked her for dinner before leaving.
“What did you say to Mom?” she asked.
“What makes you think I said anything?”
“She looks mad enough to spit nails and you’re the only one who inspires that look.”
“Good.” Hopefully she would be so angry with me for calling her out she’d forget all about Jacks’ interference.
It started to drizzle, so I flipped on the windshield wipers and hoped my plastic bag window was strong enough to keep the inside of my car dry.
As I drove home, the drizzle became a full blown storm. The temperature dropped and the heater in my car blew out lukewarm air. But so far, the plastic held up.
I pulled into my parking lot, and as I got out of my car, I covered my head with my purse and made a run for it. But before I taken more than a few steps, a large, black SUV with tinted windows slammed to a stop in front of me.
Chapter 17
Henry jumped out of the passenger seat and grabbed my arm, then yanked me toward the car.
I dropped my purse and tried to break away from him as cold rain stung my face. I screamed and pulled and slapped at him. It didn’t do me a bit of good. Henry simply scooped me up and tossed me into the back seat next to a bald giant dressed in black.
He looked at me with pale, expressionless eyes. “Boss wants to see you.” He didn’t blink. It was creepy.
“Well, I don’t want to see him.” I tried to open the door, but they must have engaged the child locks because it wouldn’t budge.
Henry climbed into the front seat.
I glanced out the window at my purse lying on the wet pavement and hoped they didn’t notice it. If Henry or his henchmen looked inside, they would find all my clues. The list of names Eric decrypted, the numbers from Packard’s phone, the list of businesses owned by NorthStar. Also, if they weren’t planning on letting me go, finding my purse might convince the police I had been kidnapped. Always a long shot with Huntingford’s finest, but a shot just the same.
“Let’s go,” Henry said to the driver, who looked like his doppelganger.
My seatmate leaned toward me. I instinctively pulled away, but he jerked me to him. He blindfolded me with a black cloth from his pocket, then grabbed my wrists and bound them in front of me.
Terror slowly crept up my chest and I thought I might hyperventilate. Getting shoved into a car by Henry was frightening. But not being able to see where I was going or what they might do to me? That took my fear to a whole different level. I had never felt so helpless. I shivered in spite of the vent blowing warm air directly on me.
No one said anything during the ride and they didn’t turn on the radio. Rain lashed against the car. That and the engine were the only sounds I heard. It felt like we were moving pretty fast, so I assumed we were on the highway. When we stopped, I tried to gauge how long we’d been on the road. Maybe thirty minutes at the most. I desperately tried to keep my brain engaged so fear wouldn’t take over. If I could keep a level head, I might get out of this.
The door next to me opened and Henry hauled me out, slinging me over his shoulder. I thought it was Henry. It certainly smelled like Henry. Rain pelted me, and for a crazy second I thought about what I must look like with my butt bouncing next to Henry’s head. My size eight butt. I stifled a giggle, realizing I was close to hysteria. I swallowed the inappropriate laugh and reached up with my bound hands to tug at my blindfold.
“Don’t do that.” It was the guy who’d been sitting next to me. He followed behind us.
I dropped my hands and continued to flop against Henry’s back. I knew we’d walked into a building when the rain stopped hitting me. I heard a door open and Henry lowered me to my feet. I swayed a little and felt his hand on my arm steady me. He removed my blindfold, but left my wrists tied.
I blinked at the light and looked around. I was in a study. A personal library, really. Two tall windows flanked a stone fireplace along one wall. Shelves and shelves of hardback books lined the other three. An enormous wood desk stood in front of me, empty except for a laptop computer.
Henry pushed me toward a tufted leather chair in front of the desk. “Sit.”
I dripped a trail of water on a red Persian rug until I reached the chair and sat down. Henry stood sentinel behind me and it made my stomach clench.
Crossing my legs, I bounced my foot up and down. Exactly how Axton had acted the last time I’d seen him. I forced myself to stop fidgeting, but my stomach was still doing back flips and my heart raced.
After several minutes the door behind me opened. I twisted my head and watched BJ enter the room.
“Thank you, Henry. You can wait outside.” The Boss wore black today. Black jacket, black shirt, black pants. He just needed a villainous mustache to twirl and his ensemble would be complete.
He sat in the chair next to mine. He stared at me with those gold eyes as he worked the thin rope at my wrists. When my hands were free, he rubbed them, his long elegant fingers using just the right amount of pressure from my fingertips to my pulse point. The contact of his skin against mine made me shiver.
“Are they sore?”
“What the hell do you care?”
He stood and moved behind the desk and sat down. Placing his elbows on the desktop, he steepled his fingers against his lips. We sat in silence. He stared at me with no expression on his face, and I fought the urge to squirm like a naughty school girl brought before the principal.
“What am I going to do with you, Rose?”
I didn’t think he really expected an answer, so I said nothing.
“I’ve warned you to mind your own business. Several times. I’ve never done that before.”
Guess he was a little pissed I went to the police station. I chewed my bottom lip as my gaze travelled around the room. “Have you read any of these?”
“Pardon?”
“The books, have you read them?”
He glanced around at the books lining the walls. “No. I hired a decorator.”
“Oh.” For some reason I was disappointed. I could sort of picture him here, in a smoking jacket and slippers, reading a book with a snifter of brandy at his elbow. Does anyone actually own a smoking jacket? Where do you buy a smoking jacket? I almost did that inappropriate laugh thing again, but took a deep breath to calm myself.
“I like you, Rose, I really do. But not enough to let you fuck up what’s taken me years to build.”
“I don’t want to fuck up anything, I just want to find Ax. Then you can keep doing whatever criminal bullshit you do and leave me alone.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. Was he going to kill me, torture me, lock me up?
He reached into the top desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. He hesitated just a second before laying it on the desk in front of me.
I stared down at it, shaking my head. I didn’t want to see its contents. I knew it couldn’t be good news.
“Go ahead. I know you’re curious.”
With trembling fingers I flipped open the cover. Inside were eight by ten color photos. I snatched them up and thumbed through them. Scotty on a swing at school, my sister in her car, my mother and father eating in a restaurant, Ma pouring coffee at the diner, Roxy standing outside The Carp. The last picture was of Axton. He had a gag in his mouth, his eyes wide with fear. My gaze flew from the photo to BJ.
The pictures wobbled in my shaky grip. My skin grew clammy, a wave of nausea swept over me.
His cold eyes studied me, like I was a lab specimen he couldn’t quite figure out. I think I started to blackout because he calmly stood up from behind the desk and came to stand beside me. He plucked the photos from my hand and gently pushed my head forward until it rested between my knees.
“Take deep breaths,” he said. “In and out. That’s it.”
I did as he said and bright dots sparked behind my eyes. I sat like that, breathing in and out, his hand rubbing circles along my damp back, until the dizziness passed. I took one last deep breath before lifting my head back up.
“Slowly, now,” he said, his fingers still caressing me.
I raised my arm and tried to twist away from him. “Don’t.”
Our gazes met as he slid his hand up to the back of my neck, through the tangle of wet hair. He squeezed my nape gently before he stood and walked to his desk. Behind it sat a crystal decanter filled with liquor. He poured a small amount into a matching crystal glass and brought it to me. “Drink this.”
“No, I don’t want to.” I sounded childish, but I didn’t care.
“Drink it.”
I took the glass from his hand, making sure my skin didn’t brush against his, and sipped. Whiskey. I never liked whiskey.
“Drink some more.” He retreated to his chair.
Without taking another drink, I reached forward and set the glass on the edge of his desk.
“My God, you’re stubborn.” He wore a grim expression, the brackets around his mouth seemed deeper. “I have Axton. I know where your friends and family live. I can get to them at any time. Keep your mouth shut and stop asking questions.”
My short nails dug into the padded armrests. “You really are an asshole.”
“I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand. And I will do whatever it takes to protect my interests.”
“What interests?”
He barked out a laugh and shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “You are unbelievable.”
As we continued to sit there, a sense of calm detachment stole over me, as if all this was happening to someone else, like I was watching a movie. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?”
I pointed toward the file, which now lay on his closed laptop. “If anything happens to my friends or family, if anything happens to Axton, I’ll kill you.”
His gaze flickered over my face. “I believe you, Rose.” He clapped his hands. “Now we know where we stand, don’t we?” He stood up, walked to the door, and opening it, spoke to Henry. “Take her home.” BJ left the room and didn’t look back.
I was hauled out and blindfolded, then shoved into the SUV once again.
Worst. Field trip. Ever.
Chapter 18
Henry all but pushed me out of the SUV and it spun off into the night. I stood there in the rain, watching the red tail lights disappear from view.
BJ had Axton.
When did he take Axton? Where did BJ find him and was he okay?
I picked up my drenched imitation leather purse and my keys still lying next to it on the rain-soaked pavement. I brushed at a wet strand of hair as I made my way to my apartment.
I stripped off my clothes and stood in the shower stall, letting the warm water flow over me as I mulled over my night with BJ. Kidnapping me, showing me he had Ax, those were pretty desperate moves. His threats meant I was on the right track. I was making him nervous. I thought over what I had done the last couple of days. I’d gone to Penn’s Cigar Bar and shown Axton’s picture to the bartender. Went to the tanning salon and tussled with Manny. Saw Sheila Graystone a couple of times. Filed a police report — which I assumed set BJ off, but maybe I was wrong on that score — and ended up with a swanky cocktail dress from Pour Femme courtesy of NorthStar.
That was the key, NorthStar. Had to be. Between Manny and Pour Femme, I was onto something. I smiled at the thought.
This jerk had my Axton, and one way or another, I was going to get him back.
I hopped out of the shower, dried off, and pulled on a pair of sweats. I made myself a pot of coffee. There was absolutely no way I was going to get any sleep. Not after my day. I decided to look up the numbers Sheila gave me.
I booted up my laptop, and using the reverse address, I found the first number. Huntingford Bank and Trust. According to Sheila, the bank called Packard six times in two days. Seemed excessive, but what did I know? My banking needs were small, just like the balance in my account.
The next number belonged to Charles and Willa Beaumont. These two were unfamiliar to me, so I did a little research. Turns out both Willa and her husband Charles were civic-minded citizens. Willa worked with the Historical Preservation Society and Charles sat on the city council with Packard. Seemed legitimate.
The next number was for the Sun Kissed Tanning Salon. Someone — Manny — called Pack once. I gasped in excitement. Finally a tangible link between NorthStar and at least one Graystone brother. I had no idea what it meant, but it wasn’t a dead end, and that had me doing a happy dance. Literally. I got up and danced around my apartment. I may have even pumped a fist once or twice.
After I calmed down, I looked up the final number, the one that popped up nine times. That number, of course, was unlisted.
Although it was close to midnight, I decided to call it. I pressed star sixty-seven before dialing to block my number from Caller ID. Axton taught me that.
A smooth voice answered on the second ring. “Sullivan.”
I froze for a beat in shock before I quickly pushed the end button on my phone. I knew that voice. The Bossy Jackass.
I stared at my phone as if it might re
ach out and bite me. Sullivan. That was his name. First or last?
I immediately took to the computer and looked up several combinations. Sullivan and NorthStar Inc., Sullivan and Sun Kissed Tanning, Sullivan and Packard Graystone, and every other pairing I could think of. Nothing.
I called Eric and woke him up. “What,” he grumbled.
“I found out who BJ is. I found him, Eric.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s Rose. And I have a link between NorthStar and Packard Graystone.”
“Hang on, give me a minute.”
I continued to punch the word Sullivan into the search engine as I waited for Eric to become coherent.
“All right, tell me again. Slowly.”
I told him about Packard’s call from Sun Kissed Tanning. “And I think I have a name for The Bossy Jackass.”
“How did you find out his name?”
I explained how I had made this amazing discovery, then sat back, feeling pretty darn pleased with myself.
“You rock, Rose.”
I grinned. “I do rock. I rock hard.”
“Let me do a little digging and see if I can turn up anything.”
There wasn’t any more I could do to find Axton tonight. I suppose I could have studied. Instead I watched infomercials until it was time to go to work.
“I’m going to saw my wrists, I swear.”
I walked from the kitchen into the dining room the next morning and saw Roxy holding a butter knife in the air. Ma grabbed it out of her hand.
Pounding her fists on the counter, Roxy glared at her. “I need a cigarette.”
“You’re doing fine, honey,” Ma said, rubbing her back.
I plucked an apron from the hook and forced a smile. “Hey.”
They both looked up when I entered.
“Hey, toots, any news on Axton?” Ma asked.
I debated whether to tell them about Henry’s abduction and Sullivan’s latest threat. It would upset Ma, and Roxy would insist I stay with her. I decided to do some creative editing. “I went to Pour Femme yesterday and told them I was from NorthStar. They gave me a dress. Then I found out BJ’s name and he admitted he has Axton.”
Diners, Dives & Dead Ends Page 12
