Untraceable

by Lindsay Delagair

  I squeezed Ryan’s hand to let him know to remain silent.

  “He’s fine.”

  “I wondered what was going on yesterday,” she said. “I flew into a small airport in Mobile and then drove over so that excessively attentive husband of yours didn’t catch me coming into an airport around here. I was passing the hotel when who should I happen to see, but Giovanni and you dropping off your mother and your sister—and then he let you drive—all smiles and sweetness, so I knew something was wrong. I thought about tailing you,” she said and then gave me a half-genuine smile—the kind of smile someone gives you just before driving a knife into your back. “But Micah told me about your skills behind the wheel.” She winked at me, “Pillow talk, you know.”

  My temperature and my hatred both inched upward. Maybe I didn’t think it was fair to her father to watch someone shoot her, but, all things being equalized, I wouldn’t mind beating her to a bloody pulp.

  “So I watched the hotel instead, trying to figure out how your wacked out mother got involved, and then she leaves yesterday and returns late with David Gavarreen—quite a surprise. Who were you with this morning, pretty boy?” she asked Ryan. “He looked rather important.”

  “Her father,” Ryan stated. “He’s—”

  I squeezed his hand, again. I could tell that she had never met my father. Evidently all their plotting had been done over the phone and she had no clue that the man she saw was Leonard Caprizio—had she heard his voice she would have known.

  “So why is Giovanni apparently working with your husband? Hmm? Caprizio won’t tolerate traitors.”

  “And what are you?” I asked before thinking twice.

  Her eyes narrowed in putrid, vile hatred, “I’m the person who’s going to make your brat an orphan—or maybe I’ll just make him a bastard by killing his daddy. That would do more damage to you wouldn’t it, Leese? Yes,” she stated rather darkly, “it hurts more to do without him.”

  I realized she was speaking from her own experience. I could tell she’d gotten too close to Micah. I knew, only too well, that he could capture a woman’s heart without trying—he only had to let a woman near his influence. There was something about him that left women feeling breathless and undone, sexual and vulnerable. I could see now, she was insanely jealous over Micah, but I also realized she’d rather put a bullet in him then to let him live a life of happiness with me.

  She picked up her companion’s gun and then twisted carefully in her seat to get a good aim at Ryan. “Now you can be snide, and then watch me start by shooting him in an arm. Hopefully he won’t bleed to death before he gets too many holes, and you wise up. Or you can tell me how Giovanni got in with Gavarreens.”

  “I—I don’t know everything but—” I observed her finger tightening over the trigger. She was really going to shoot Ryan! I watched Ryan brace for the impact. “Don’t, please! Just let me explain what I know. Please Sharon, I’ll tell you everything, just stop pointing the gun at him.”

  “Tell me everything you know—now,” she said lowering the gun.

  “It has something to do with a truck filled with cocaine,” I said thinking fast. I didn’t know how much she would believe, but Micah told me she had one of the biggest veins of coke coming into the U.S. “Jonathan,” I said, seeing no reason to change what I called him, “said Micah was willing to let him have it all—and he said there’s more—practically billions of it that can come in through New Orleans.”

  “Caprizio isn’t stupid—he’ll find out what Giovanni is doing and then—”

  “Not if Micah and David take out Caprizio,” I uttered and then swallowed. Now I’d see just how gullible she really was. “Micah told Jonathan that he and David are the only ones who could pull of such a big hit. They’ll take out Caprizio and anyone else they need to, to make Jonathan the Capo dei Capi.”

  A look of pure amazement came over her face, “And what does Micah get?”

  “Me—and to take Botachelli’s place.”

  “And what else? I bet he told Giovanni he wants me dead, didn’t he?” she growled.

  I knew how much Sharon wanted to kill my husband for coming back to me, but if I could play my last card right, perhaps she wouldn’t try to shoot him on sight—at least not until she discovered that I was lying, and then, hopefully, someone could stop her.

  “No,” I said, suddenly sobbing, “What did you do to him?” I gave the best act of my life, using all my fears to force the tears down my cheeks. “He—he said—to leave you alone! I don’t understand why he doesn’t want you dead.”

  She smiled slightly.

  I could tell she liked what I had said.

  Her smile grew broader, “He’s crazy if he thinks it will be easy to take out Caprizio—and crazier yet if he thinks I’m giving up my imports. But we can bargain for that later, I want my drugs out of his hands before Caprizio figures out Giovanni switched sides. Now, I’m going to gamble that you know where my drugs are, don’t you?”

  I didn’t want to answer. If I told her about the beach house who knew who she’d see there—like her father—and that would be extremely bad. But the last I knew, Jonathan drove off with the truck. It might not be there at all, or they might be at the dolomite pit. I honestly didn’t know.

  I shook my head no.

  She didn’t like that. “Your turn, gorgeous,” she said to Ryan.

  He shook his head no.

  “Isn’t that sweet—a pair of liars.”

  Her companion laughed.

  She unbuckled and twisted completely around, getting an extra strong grip on the gun. “Place your palm over the barrel,” she told me.

  “Why?”

  “Do it.”

  I released Ryan’s hand and placed my trembling open palm against the barrel. I thought about trying to wrench it away from her, but if it went off there was a good chance that either Ryan or myself would get shot in the process. And, her driver had another gun in his other holster.

  I was screwed.

  “I think one of you knows where my truck is. At the count of three, I’m blowing a hole through your hand. You better scoot closer to the door so you don’t get hit, handsome. Hopefully one of you will be intelligent enough to tell me the truth before I pull the trigger. One, two…”

  “All right,” Ryan spoke up sounding panicked. “I think I know where it’s at.”

  “No, Ryan!”

  “Smart boy,” she said, taking the gun away. “I may have to save you for later.” She winked at him and then she made an exaggerated show of interest by placing her elbow on the console between the seats and cupping her chin in her palm; she smiled sweetly, “Go ahead, Ryan—impress me.”

  “There is a beach house—”

  “Ryan stop,” I pled.

  “No, Leese—those drugs aren’t worth someone getting hurt over.”

  All I could pray at that point was that he knew what he was doing.

  “But don’t get too close—they’re already a little spooked because you didn’t show yesterday. You might be able to see it from the top of the bridge before we hit the island.”

  “The beach house is that close?”

  “It’s about a mile away.”

  “That’s too far,” she said

  “The truck is too bright to hide.”

  “It’s white,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “Maybe it was white, but it’s not anymore.”

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “It’s pink,” he finished.

  “Really? I hope you’re not lying to me, Ryan,” she continued.

  I hated the sound of her calling him by name. I could tell she was starting to take an interest in him, and I suddenly knew how Micah felt when he told me long ago that he didn’t want to destroy my innocence. Ryan was a good person, and he’d only made love to one woman—even though he was a stunning man, he was still very innocent. Just the thought of Sharon sinking her claws into him and ruining that beautiful virtuousness fille
d me with fury and disgust.

  “Head for the bridge, Allen,” she ordered and then turned back around in her seat.

  From the top of the big bridge, a pink spot could be seen in the horizon—the truck was parked at the beach house. She was discussing how she could get it without getting shot when Ryan simply stated he’d do it.

  “You?” she questioned. “You’re just going to waltz right up there and drive away with it?”

  “Something like that,” he replied.

  I knew what he was thinking; none of my dad’s men would dare shoot him—he had been marked untouchable by the Capo dei Capi himself—I was just praying that all Dad’s men got the memo.

  “Pull over,” she told Allen after we crossed the bridge. This was the same place that we’d pulled into to make sure everyone was okay the night we had the brawl at the beach. Now, here we sat preparing to do the most dangerous thing of our lives. Evidently, she brought several men with her to Pensacola, and she was preparing to put them into place along the highway.

  “I want details,” she said, looking at Ryan. “No surprises or she takes a bullet.”

  “They won’t recognize this car, but if you’ll let Leese drive, we’ll roll the windows down and, when they see us, none of them will think more about it than we grabbed a rental. Leese lets me out. I already heard them talking about the fact that the ignition is rigged in the truck—I won’t need a key. I’ll just jump in and pull out. Leese can run interference for me until I can drive somewhere secluded. We’ll let you know where we’re at, and you get the truck.”

  “Hmm…no good,” she stated. “What’s to keep you two from just pulling up and running inside? Please, handsome, I didn’t get where I’m at from being stupid. Allen and I will duck down in the backseat. The only way this is going to work is if you know she has a gun pointed at her back—other than that, I like your simple plan. Once I get my coke back, maybe I’ll show you just how grateful I really am.”

  Ryan smiled, but I knew he was faking it. It was so easy to see that Sharon liked her ego stroked, and for him to act as if he liked the idea of having sex with her—well, that was a major caress to her self-image—of course with someone as stunning as Ryan, that would be a major boost to anyone’s self-esteem.

  Once she told her men to prepare and where she wanted them, we switched seats.

  “They watch whoever comes near the house, so you two need to duck down now. If they see anyone other than the two of us, we won’t make it out of there.”

  Sharon didn’t look too happy, but she took the opportunity to remind Ryan that if she didn’t like anything he did, I’d be shot. She also told him that her men would start following him in about two miles where there was some heavy road construction, and that he’d better not try to lose them or, once again, she’d find reason to blow my guts all over the interior of the car.

  Allen was crouched behind Ryan, and Sharon was behind me making sure he could see the pistol pointed at my back.

  “Go” was all she said.

  I dropped the car into drive. The car had more than enough muscle for what I needed to do. It was the ZL1 model which meant I had almost 600hp under the hood. Unfortunately, it was an automatic transmission, but that was okay—I’d make do.

  Ryan reached over and rested his hand rather intimately on the inside of my right thigh—I wondered for a moment what the hell he was doing when I felt him tracing letters against my skin with his index finger.

  D. O. L. O. M. I. T. E. P. I. T.

  He rewrote it. I reached down with my right hand and scooped his up, giving it a squeeze—and tracing O. K. inside his palm. If we were headed that direction, Micah would most likely figure out that we were on our way to what should have been the original meeting site. I could only hope he’d figure it out in time to take the alternate route.

  As we drove up, I noticed my father’s men. One car was about a block before we arrived. The second was parked approximately a block farther down the street. That one, most likely, would be the first one I’d have to contend with. The only cars at the house were David’s BMW and the 300.

  The first car had four men inside. They knew who we were, so other than a second glance, they made no move as we drove past. I was thinking there were a million things that could go wrong with this ‘simple’ plan. My heart was beginning to pound as I drew closer and closer to the beach house. They had backed the truck in. I guessed because they wanted the big, rolling door on the back positioned so they could see it, and perhaps to hide the Louisiana license plate.

  No one, thank God, was outside. Damn, that driveway seemed so long—far too long for Ryan to run down to reach the driver’s side of the truck.

  “I’m pulling in,” I stated.

  “No,” Sharon growled.

  “It’s too far for him to make it to the truck before someone stops him. Sit tight; this is less suspicious than just opening the door and sending him running.”

  “Screw this up and I’ll kill you,” she warned.

  I pulled in, practically feeling the bullet that was prepared for me. I brought the car nose to nose with the truck and Ryan jumped out. Thankfully, the driver’s door wasn’t locked. He was in it and had it roaring to life in a split second.

  I had the Camaro in reverse and burning the tires backwards down the drive. What a moment of déjà vu! I’d done this very thing with Micah’s Z the first night we were alone together, except this time I wasn’t heading back toward the bridge but I’d be going down the island for the turn that would take us to the other side of the mainland. I wasn’t sure if I should let Ryan get in front of me, but I gave him room and he took the lead. Sharon was peering from between the seats at the roadway ahead and barking orders at me, but I didn’t pay her any attention. I knew what I was doing.

  I watched the car down the road crank and turn sideways.

  “Hold on,” was all I said as I cut around Ryan and prepared to ram the other car. I could see the surprise on the men’s faces as they realized who was behind the wheel. They were actually attempting to get out of my way when I skidded slightly and broadsided them, sending their car careening against the high curb, effectively blowing two of their tires.

  I put Ryan back in the lead and slowed as I watched people running like ants out of the beach house. Thankfully, we were too far away for Sharon to make them out. The other car which had the several men we passed when we went to the house was now rapidly approaching. When they drew close enough, I hit the brakes and swerved. They seemed surprised as their target suddenly was to their rear. I hit the back passenger’s side fender and spun them out. Ryan was getting farther away.

  I started to catch up to him when I saw the 300 and David’s BMW quickly approaching from behind. I could tell Micah was at the wheel of the 300, with my father in the passenger’s seat. David and another man were in the sports car.

  I really hoped those boys were wearing their seat belts.

  I looked ahead and saw a couple cars had pulled out and were now following Ryan; those had to be Sharon’s men. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a performance engine winding out to the maximum. David had passed Micah and he was closing in on me fast. I tried to break and swerve, but he’d already seen that move and he was prepared as it seemed we were involved in a high speed dance down the congested roadway. There were orange and white cones, water barrels, concrete barriers, highway workers and (the closer we drew to the shopping areas on the beach) a ton more traffic. I saw the absolute stunned surprise on David’s face as we barely avoided each other and he got his first look at who was behind the wheel. Once again, I was in front of him.

  Ryan was a good distance ahead and had made the turn for the mainland.

  As we approached the intersection, David appeared as if he was going to abandon me and the Camaro to his brother, and he would follow the truck, but I wasn’t about to allow that to happen.

  Timing was everything as we approached the red-light at the intersection. I certainly hoped people wer
e paying attention. This would be an unpleasant car pile-up, but if people were fast enough on the brakes, hopefully no one would get killed. I slid into the intersection sideways, narrowly missing two cars going opposite directions, but it was enough to set off the chain reaction as people who were unaccustomed to controlling a skid, plowed into each other and blocked David’s turn. I watched his car begin to slide, trying to avoid the cars when another car hit his passenger’s side sending him into the melee. I was saying my prayers that everyone would be okay, but now I had a new problem: I’d missed my turn and my chance to follow Ryan. Concrete barriers blocked me from getting to the westbound lanes—and I had a black 300 hot on my tail.

  By this point, Sharon and Allen had been tossed around so much in the backseat that they were now completely upright and visible. I didn’t care really because I knew if Micah saw them, he’d figure everything out, including (at least I hoped) where we might be headed.

  Sharon was still bitching away about the fact that her coke was headed a different direction than she was, but I was in total concentration as I weaved through the traffic, intent on finding a way through the barriers—hopefully before I had to drive the entire twenty mile stretch down the beach! Suddenly, I saw my opportunity a block down the road. Two concrete barriers were missing, most likely as a place for police to cross the roadway in an emergency. I began to slow and drift into the outside lane.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” Sharon screamed at me. “He’s catching us, you stupid little bitch!”

  I believe Allen understood what I was heading for, but he knew we were going too fast to make the tiny opening. “You can’t drive through there!” he yelled.

  “I’m not driving through it,” I shot back, “I’m freaking parking in it! Hold on,” I said once again, hoping Sharon wouldn’t pull the trigger before she understood my plan.

  It had been a long time since I’d pulled this stunt, but I had to admit my adrenalin was through the roof as the speedometer hit thirty miles-per-hour and I hit the brakes and cut the wheel. It was one hell of a tricky move, but executed properly it was a thing of beauty as the car suddenly spun 180 degrees and slipped perfectly sideways between the barriers without an inch to spare. Had the barriers been a pair of cars, it would have been the perfect parallel parking move, but now it was time to punch the gas in the westbound lanes of traffic and catch up to that freaking pink truck!