Organized Grime

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Organized Grime Page 18

by Christy Barritt


  I had to do something to get my mind off Riley. I had to focus on Sierra. Even though the FBI thought that photo they’d found was authentic, I still held on to the hope that she was alive. After all, wouldn’t I feel it down in my soul if my friend were dead? And if she were dead, I needed to know who did it. I needed to make sure they were behind bars.

  The phone rang, pulling me out of my misery. I didn’t recognize the number, which probably meant it was someone calling looking for a cleaner.

  “I’m trying to reach Gabby St. Claire.” A crisp feminine voice came through the line.

  Chad was going to be busy for the next couple of days working on his own, which meant we wouldn’t be able to accommodate any new clients time-wise. “I’m a bit out of commission at the moment, so if you’re looking for someone to clean up after a crime…”

  “This is Glenda Perkins from the Medical Examiner’s office.”

  I sat up straight, my earlier despair momentarily gone. I ran a hand through my hair as if Dr. Perkins could see me. “This is Gabby. Sorry about that.”

  “I was hoping you could come in for an interview tomorrow.”

  “An interview? Yes. Of course. Absolutely.”

  She chuckled. “Great. Does 3:30 work?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Wow, I’d actually gotten an interview. I hung up and leaned back in awe.

  My phone rang again. Who now? Bruce’s number popped up. I nearly didn’t answer. But I did. I tried to lighten my voice as I said hello.

  “Gabriella. It’s Bruce. You cleaned my house last Monday.”

  “And I did such a good job that you want to hire me?”

  He chuckled. “Not quite.”

  “Your friends want to hire me?”

  “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

  My throat went dry. “Coffee?” Would this be my chance to find out more information about Sierra and what had happened to her? Until there was a body, I wouldn’t accept that she was dead. I was a need-proof kind of girl. Besides, coffee would be safe. It would be out in public with lots of escape routes and witnesses. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. How about tonight? Around seven?”

  I’d rather have my teeth pulled than actually go on a date with the man. But I shoved those thoughts to the side for the greater good. “Only if I can pick the place.”

  “I suppose I could let you do that.” Just the way he said that gave me the creeps. Socials skills he had not, which just added to the image I had of him as a crazy lone wolf taking on the evil world.

  Despite that, we agreed to meet at The Grounds. It was the place where I’d feel the safest. Also a place where I was most likely to be discovered. But I’d take my chances.

  I glanced at my watch. Eight hours until game time. I expelled the breath I held.

  Sierra. I had to think about Sierra.

  Because if I thought about Riley, I was going to break.

  ***

  Butterflies seemed too nice a term to describe what was going on in my stomach. It felt more like bats floundering around in my innards, or maybe even vultures clumsily circling around my gut and maybe even a few more organs. I wasn’t sure. I squirmed in my chair one more time.

  Sharon walked over. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just remember my signal that I need help.”

  “Right. You’ll stand up and yell fire. I should get the hint.”

  Perfect. That’s what I intended. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  She paused and raised a pierced eyebrow at me. “Does Riley know you’re doing this?”

  Those bats in my stomach began nose diving at everything in sight. “No, I didn’t tell him. Besides, we…we broke up.”

  Her mouth drooped open, her black lipstick forming something close to a typeset “O.” “Broke up? Why?”

  I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. Every time I did, my heart squeezed with what I could only describe as anguish. “I don’t know why I ever thought we’d work out anyway.”

  “You’re perfect together. A lot of men would feel really threatened by your strong personality. Riley is confident enough to handle you, yet to let you be yourself.” Sharon stared at me, wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. “We need to talk later.”

  Her words started to do a number on my heart when someone walked into the coffeehouse. I quickly straightened, putting those thoughts aside. “Later,” I whispered.

  Sharon went back to work wiping down the tables. I noticed she stayed close, probably because she realized what a dumb idea this was. I even acknowledged that. But I wasn’t going to back down.

  Bruce must have dressed up for me because his jeans actually looked clean and his shirt only had one stain. He smiled when he saw me, though the action didn’t look quite natural. Did it ever with Bruce? He was one odd bird, and coming from me that meant a lot.

  “Good to see you, Gabriella.” He pulled a potted plant from behind his back. “For you. I usually don’t believe in giving gifts—the gesture seems so superficial and inauthentic—but since you cleaned my house, I thought I would bring this to you.”

  “It’s…” I stared at the skinny plant with large, green, puppet-like leaves on top…leaves with little fang-like points surrounding them. “Is that a Venus flytrap?”

  He nodded. “Yep. It sure is. Aren’t they the coolest?”

  I had to admit that the little plant was pretty cool, even if the thought behind it seemed a little twisted and morbid. Who gave someone a Venus flytrap on the first date?

  Sharon cleared her throat, eyeing the plant before turning that sharp gaze on me. “Can I take your orders?”

  Hm… she’d never taken orders at the table before. Nonetheless, I complied, as did Bruce. After she left, awkward silence fell. Normally I went into acting mode pretty easily, but at the moment, my heart just panged. I missed Riley. I wanted to be sitting across from him right now and not Bruce.

  Would my relationship with Riley ever be the same? I doubted it. We’d given romance a shot and it hadn’t worked out. I just had to accept that fact and move on.

  Bruce pointed to my eye, twirling his finger in little circles, and frowned. “Everything okay? You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”

  He sure knew how to butter someone up with sweet words. “Just had a little accident. I’ll be fine.”

  He leaned forward, his eyes serious. “I’m glad you agreed to meet for coffee, Gabriella. I have to say that I was really impressed with you when we spoke at my place. You showed a great depth of knowledge and concern for our environment. I liked that.”

  “Thanks. I try. I mean, we’ve only got one chance to take care of our planet, right?”

  “Absolutely.” He leaned back and shifted his weight. “I wanted to talk to you about a special project I’m working on.”

  And here I thought he’d wanted to sweet talk me with his flattery. I swallowed, my saliva burning my throat. “Oh really? What is it?”

  He observed me a moment, his eyes as piercing as a knife glimmering in the moonlight. “I can’t tell you that yet.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “Why not? You brought it up.”

  “I’m not sure if I can trust you.” He tapped the table with his fingers.

  “Then why are you here? Why are you talking to me?”

  “I’m trying to figure out if I can trust you. That’s why.” He continued tapping with enough frequency that I wanted to slam my hand over his to stop the noise. I resisted.

  Sharon brought our drinks, and I welcomed the interruption. I wrapped my fingers around my latte, wondering if I should have gotten something stronger.

  As soon as she left, I leaned toward Bruce. “So, what is it? You want to boycott something? Form picket lines? Write a newspaper editorial?”

  He took a long sip of coffee. The strands from angry girl music wafted throu
gh the place as I waited for him to finish his coffee and his thought. Finally, he shook his head. “No, I’ve tried all of those things, and they didn’t work.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Are you talking about something…” I rubbed the side of the warm ceramic mug. “Illegal?”

  He blanched, baring his teeth with the action. “No, not illegal. Just something that would make a statement.”

  Tread carefully, Gabby. I tried to keep my voice even. “You mean like setting that housing development on fire? The one that was built on the wetlands in Chesapeake?”

  His lips twisted in a frown. “No, someone beat me to that. I wish I could take credit.”

  “That would have been illegal, Bruce. People died.”

  “Yes, that was the tragic part. Someone should have planned much more carefully. It was sloppy work.”

  “Any idea who did it?”

  He shrugged. “Rumor’s going around that it was an amateur. I don’t believe the person being accused is guilty, though.”

  “You mean that animal rights activist? I saw her picture on the news.”

  His mood seemed very somber as he nodded. “Yeah, her name is Sierra.”

  “You know her?”

  “We’ve met. She was too smart to do something like that, though.”

  I drew in a shaky breath. “How about that office building that was bombed? Do you think that was connected?”

  “It could have been. I don’t know, really. No one I know has taken credit for it. I think something else is going on. Something bigger.”

  “Something bigger than ecoterrorism?”

  He scowled. “I hate that word.”

  “Isn’t that what it is?”

  “There shouldn’t be anything ‘terroristic’ about trying to save the earth.”

  I remembered my cover and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve just been watching the news too much. All of their language is stuck in my head right now.” I took a sip of my drink. “Have you talked to your friend Sierra lately?”

  “Yeah, I saw her last week. She showed up at my place.”

  I nearly choked on my latte. “Really? I thought she was wanted by the police.”

  “Yeah, she is. The FBI, actually.”

  “Why’d she stop by your place?”

  He twisted his head. “You’re not a narc or something are you?”

  I snorted. “A narc? Really?”

  “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

  I leaned back, trying to look uninterested. “Sorry. Sometimes I’m too curious for my own good. My mom used to always say I should be a reporter because I ask so many questions.”

  “I get that.” He nodded, as if appeased by my explanation. “No, she just stopped by to say she was not guilty. Then she asked about another mutual friend of ours.”

  “She must think your friend is the guilty one.”

  “Perhaps. I haven’t talked to him in a few days either. He dropped off the radar, so maybe he is guilty.”

  “Is he a friend from your environmental group?”

  “Nah. He worked with Sierra at Paws and Fur Balls. Get this. His name is Tree. Isn’t that the best name for someone who’s a tree hugger?”

  My throat burned. Tree. Tree was involved in all of this?

  “Why was she looking for him?”

  “She wasn’t. She wanted to look through his stuff.”

  His stuff? “So why did she go to see you?”

  “Tree used to be my roommate.”

  Bells began dinging in my head. “I didn’t know you had a roommate.”

  “He moved out a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Is his stuff still there?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. I gave it to Goodwill.”

  Did Sierra think Tree was guilty, that he’d followed through with his nefarious plan? Was that why she wanted to see his belongings?

  He leaned closer. “Why do you sound so interested?”

  I shrugged, realizing I had let on too much probably. “Other people just fascinate me. That’s all. I got carried away, I guess.”

  He studied me another moment before leaning back in his chair and nodding. “I’ll tell you what. You can come with me tonight. This can be a little initiation to see if you’re ready to join ranks with me and some of my friends.”

  All the moisture left my throat. “Really? You would let me do that now.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I will.” He glanced at his watch. “I still have another hour and a half. Until then, let’s talk about something else. Tell me about that kitty litter.”

  ***

  I locked the door to the coffeehouse bathroom and pulled my cell phone from my purse. My head swirled from my medication. I shouldn’t have taken it; should have traded clear thinking for a little discomfort. Even with this new development, which would have normally been an adrenaline surge, my energy felt depleted. Still, I would see this through till completion.

  I leaned against the graffiti-lined stall and dialed Parker’s number.

  “Parker, I’m with Bruce Watkins right now,” I whispered.

  “The eco-terrorist?”

  “Yeah, him. I think he’s going to do something to one of the contractors who worked on that development on the Elizabeth River.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because he invited me to help him.”

  Parker muttered something not so nice under his breath. “You can’t go with him, Gabby.”

  “This could be our chance to get the evidence we need to frame this guy and finally find Sierra.”

  “Gabby…”

  I shook my head. “Don’t say it, Parker. She’s alive, and I’m going to find her.”

  He remained silent a moment. “You’re in over your head.”

  “I’m already in over my head, so I might as well learn to swim.”

  “Let me put a wire on you.”

  “There’s no time. He’s waiting in his car for me.”

  “At least take Riley with you.”

  My throat burned. “I can’t. But Parker, try to be there to catch this guy red-handed, okay?”

  “I don’t even know where ‘there’ is.”

  I didn’t know what to tell him. “Leave your cell phone on mute. I’ll leave my phone on so you can hear everything. You’ll figure out where we’re going.”

  I slipped the phone in my pocket, waited a minute to make sure Parker had actually muted his phone, and hurried out, not wanting to spend any more time in here lest Bruce become suspicious.

  I took a deep breath and, as I stepped out of the bathroom, I felt like I was stepping right into a death trap.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Despite the cold, I was sweating as I rode with Bruce into the night. This had to be my worst idea ever. The idea was so knuckle-headed that I felt guilty even asking God to protect me through it.

  Bruce rattled on and on about global warming, carbon emissions and the overpopulation of the earth. I barely heard him. Instead, I soaked in everything we passed. I tried to offer commentary so Parker could get a clue.

  “Oh, William’s Barbeque Barn. Best barbeque around, I’ve been told.”

  “There’s that seafood restaurant I like to eat at, The Marina.”

  “Look, you can ride a monster truck there! How cool is that?”

  We headed toward Chesapeake, then through Chesapeake toward North Carolina. He pulled off the bypass and drove into wooded farmland. The road narrowed, surrounded by trees and a murky looking creek.

  His eyes seemed beady and snake-like as we slithered into the night. “I’ve got everything we need in the back.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, trying to remain cool. “What exactly is everything?”

  He smiled. “You’ll see.”

  I really didn’t want to add “felon” to the list of words to describe me. Especially not before my interview with the medical examiner.

  Finally, he pulled off the road and down a dusty lane. A half a mile later, he par
ked in the woods. He quickly got out, and I followed suit. The sounds of nature surrounded me and just then I realized how secluded we were. He could kill me here, and no one would find me for days. Nausea churned in my gut. Worst. Idea. Ever.

  He pulled a bag out of the trunk. I tried to ascertain what was inside. I supposed it could be a bomb or some gasoline to start a fire. But I didn’t think it was.

  Just what was Bruce planning? And had Parker figured out where we were headed yet? Had he put an all-points bulletin out on Bruce’s car and had law enforcement officers been tracking him? Maybe he put a trace on my cell phone? Something? Anything?

  We began trudging through the woods. My head pounded. My eyelids felt heavy. And, even with the pain medication, my ribs ached.

  Tree branches slapped me in the face. Roots tried to trip me. Water soaked the leg of my jeans.

  Finally, he stopped at the edge of a nearby clearing. In the distance, I could see lights twinkling. It was a house. Who was inside? A man with a family? Little kids who’d already been tucked into bed? No way would I let Bruce hurt someone with me here to stop him. No way. But I had to plan my moves carefully.

  Please, Parker, find us. Fast.

  He dropped the bag and grinned at me. “We’re going to leave him a message that he and his family won’t ever forget.”

  “How’d you even get this guy’s address?”

  “Tree left the information.”

  “How did Tree get it?”

  “His uncle owns Harrison Developers.”

  I paused. “His uncle is James Harrison?”

  Bruce nodded, looking a little annoyed. “Yeah, but he hates the guy. He wants to see him destroyed.”

  I tried to absorb that information.

  Bruce handed me something. “Take this.”

  “A hammer? What’s this for?” Awful images danced in my head.

  “You’ll see.” He nodded toward the house. “Come on.”

  He took off and I had no choice but to follow him. My heart lurched when I saw a swing set in the backyard. This man did have children. I wasn’t going to let Bruce hurt them, even if it meant my own well-being.

  Bruce squatted behind a car in the driveway. I tried to do the same, but my ribs ached. My face throbbed. The cold bit me down to the bone.

 

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