We finished the bottle and headed out.
I had to admit that knowing Bud was behind me in the police car did provide comfort, considering the world was scary right now. Both of my sisters had offered to stay the night, but it was time for me to be a grownup.
I pulled into my driveway and waited for Bud to park before heading toward my cottage.
A package by the door caught my eye, and I grabbed it, unlocking the door and moving inside. Interesting. The postal guy often left packages, but I didn’t remember shopping online lately. Of course, that didn’t mean I hadn’t. I set the keys in the bowl and turned on lights as I went.
Then I yelped.
Aiden Devlin sprawled on my sofa, his shoes off, his eyes closed. He opened them and that blue was a dark bottom of a riverbed in the height of fall. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” I looked wildly around. How had he gotten in?
He yawned, looking all mussed with his hair and wrinkled T-shirt over what appeared to be very hard muscles. “Wanted to check on you. So much has been going on.”
“There’s a cop outside.” Why I told him that, I wasn’t sure. “I could have you arrested right now for trespass.” I faltered, truly not sure what to do.
“You could,” he agreed, swinging his legs so he was more sitting than sprawling. “But why would you?”
I licked my lips and tasted wine. “Did you steal Charles Monroe’s car today?”
“Nope, but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” His gaze dropped to the package. “What’s that?”
I shrugged and turned it over. No return address, and it had been processed in Spokane. Blood rushed through my veins and I set it down, ripping open the sides. Probably a neighbor had left me goodies? The back of a frame showed, and I pulled it out, flipping it over to see the picture. It was the newspaper photograph of Nick and me after the shooting. A folded note had been tucked into the corner.
“What the hell?” Aiden stood and moved for me.
I unfolded the note to read:
Dearest Anna,
This is not appropriate. Please act like a wife. You always have, and I’d hate to change things. XO Your Loving Husband.
Aiden read over my shoulder. “Fuck.”
Yeah, that summed it up. I swayed. “He’s never contacted me like this. Never even signed a note.” The picture with Nick had done it? It was that simple. “I always figured he’d be back, but now?” I looked up at Aiden’s concerned gaze. “Of course, you’re here now, too.”
He shook his head. “Things always come full circle, now don’t they?”
I nodded. “Yeah. But they change, too. I’m calling the Silverville sheriff about this and then I’m calling Detective Pierce. You’re not going to want to be here, Aiden.” I couldn’t change the decisions everyone else made in their lives, but I could sure make the right ones for me. But I had something to say first. Words that needed to be expressed. “Thank you for saving me years ago. If I could save you, I would. Until you tell me everything, it’s impossible.” I faced him as squarely as I could, letting go of any childhood dreams I’d had of him. It was time.
He studied me, looking big and bad and so sexy it hurt to look back. But I did, and I fought the insane urge to jump him and take him down to the ground with a hard kiss.
Then he nodded. “Bye, Angel.”
Chapter 38
Tuesday morning dawned with a crackle of thunder and a zing of lightning. I rolled over in my bed and tucked the pillow over my head. Where had the decent weather gone? Oh, in Idaho we could have rain, snow, hail, sun, and too much heat all in one day. Spring was for volatile weather, so why it was ticking me off was beyond me.
Grunting, I rolled over and tossed the pillow across the room before glancing at the clock. It was only seven. The local cops had been at my house until about midnight, gathering the picture frame and scouting the area for any other signs of a person. They found nothing. I appreciated that Sheriff Franco and Detective Pierce opened an investigation together, using all of the old anniversary and Christmas cards as well as the new evidence. Pierce had even called Nick for an update from his investigators, who hadn’t found Davey yet.
Those investigators also hadn’t requested my casefile from Franco after saying they were federal investigators. That left Jareth Davey. He’d had the balls to contact Franco and ask for the file. It was the only explanation. That wasn’t good.
I’d finally gone to bed with Bud at the front door making me feel all safe. Except, of course, that Aiden had gotten in the night before. I hadn’t mentioned that to anybody.
Today I needed to try and talk to Charles again, if he was up to a visit. First, I’d pop by his house and feed his dog again. Maybe if I took a couple of pictures of Snuffles, Charles would talk to me and tell me where that stupid lab was located. I really needed to finish this case.
I showered and dressed in light jeans and a peach-colored sweater before taking a cup of coffee and bagel out to Bud, who was parked beneath the eve of the garage. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m off duty at ten,” he said, his face lighting up at the coffee. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” I handed over the bagel and told him my plan of hitting Charles’ house and then the hospital. “After that, I’ll just be at the office for the rest of the day.”
“Good.” Bud leaned back and stretched his neck. “I could use a break.” Then he took a couple more drinks of the pumpkin flavored brew. His gaze tracked the area around the garage. “Is your sister Donna single?”
“Yep.” I turned for my car. “You can ask me questions at Monroe’s place.” I had plenty of questions to ask him if he wanted to date Donna. While he seemed like a pretty nice guy, that didn’t mean he was, although Donna had appeared interested, and she had far better taste in men than either Tessa or I did. For sure.
I kept the top on the car out of respect for the darn storm waging around me, driving toward the retirement community. Once I parked in Charles’ driveway, I dashed inside with Bud on my heels. “Why are you coming?” I asked.
“Last time I was here I got attacked. Let me clear the house.” He did so with Snuffles jumping around him, trying to get attention. “All good.”
I let the dog out back and replenished his food and water before taking several pictures of the pooch. Maybe those would appease Charles. “All right. Let’s go.” I led the way outside after locking the door. The rain continued to fall, while the wind had increased in force and blew my hair back. When would summer arrive? I walked along the house to the driveway, where I stopped short.
Pauley was jumping out of a tall red truck in Melvin’s driveway, his notebook in his hands.
“Pauley?” I called. Wait a minute. Pierce had ordered a uniform to watch him until he went to the library this morning. Right now, Pauley was supposed to be safe at the college before his mom drove him over the hill to take some pictures of the river this afternoon. What was he doing there? I turned to yell for Bud just as he walked down the stairs.
A man wearing a Lorde’s cut came around the side of Charles’ house, firing a big black gun three times toward Bud’s back. The sound was deafening. Bud’s eyes widened, and he flew face first into the hydrangeas, landing hard and not moving. “Bud!” I moved for him, flattening my hand over his lower back.
Something hard. Oh. Bullet proof vest? Was he alive?
“Get up.” The guy pointed his gun at me. I squinted, trying to breathe, my chest hurting. I stood and turned to face him, blinking through the rain. The man was vaguely familiar. He’d been one of the guys in the Lordes’ garage the other day when we’d executed the warrant. Then he gestured toward the driveway.
I took one last look at Bud and then walked around the house. God, I hoped Aiden was in that truck. Pauley stood on the other side, his gaze darting around, his head bobbing.
Spider stepped out of the driver’s side. “What is going on?”
Panic tried to grab me, and I sucked deep to stay
calm. I searched the back of the truck. Nope. No Aiden.
The guy behind me nudged me in the ribs. “I saw the cop car and investigated. Had to shoot him.” He prodded me across the grass and over to Thelma and Georgiana’s half of the driveway toward the truck. “Look who I found.”
Spider’s eyes widened. “You shot a cop? Are you crazy?”
“Didn’t have a choice.”
“Unbelievable.” Spider snarled, his gold tooth gleaming as he took out his phone and pressed it to his ear. “Devlin? We have a problem. You can return to base. I’ve got your girl.”
Devlin? I frowned.
Spider nodded. “Yep. He was on the way to fetch you, anyway. It was nice of you to make this convenient.”
“Why?” I asked, trying to look for a way around him.
“Oh, we’ll talk about that inside,” Spider muttered. Then he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Shit, Grease. You shot a cop?”
I coughed, trying to get Pauley’s attention. His gaze remained fixed on the hood of the truck.
“The cop didn’t see him—or you.” I said. How could I get Pauley out of there?
“But you’ve seen me,” the guy behind me said, shoving the gun between my ribs.
I reacted then. Exactly as I’d learned in my one self-defense class last year. Pivoting, I pushed the gun away from my body and grabbed it, bringing my knee up as hard as I could to the guy’s groin. He howled and bent over. I stepped back with the gun and turned to point it at Spider.
Melvin Whitaker stood at the edge of the sidewalk to his house with a shotgun pointed at my cousin’s head. My entire body jolted, and my chest expanded in a need to fight or flee.
“Nice move,” Spider said, appraisal in his gaze.
“My cousin. She is my cousin. She can kick. Used to play kickball at the river.” Pauley’s eyes widened, and he rocked in place again. “My cousin kicks. My cousin. She is my cousin.”
“It’s okay, Pauley,” I said, lowering the gun. He wasn’t even looking toward Melvin. “There has to be a decent way out of this mess.”
Thelma’s garage door started to open. I turned, but the guy behind me grabbed me fast, his hand slapping over my mouth and his arm banding around my waist. He carried me to the other side of the truck, near Pauley, and Spider joined us, yanking the gun out of my hand.
This could not be happening. I eyed Melvin sideways, and his hands stayed steady on his weapon. He slowly backed toward his house so the elderly ladies couldn’t see him.
Thelma came out first, carrying a stack of plastic paper. “I tell you; they don’t use enough of this stuff to protect the plants. This storm is gonna kill them. For what we pay, we shouldn’t have to take care of the garden, too.” Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she wore bright red shorts with a polka dot shirt beneath a see-through rain slicker. Her rain boots were a muted tan, oddly enough.
“I agree, but you do like to garden,” Georgiana said soothingly, her head protected from the rain with a large bucket hat. She walked behind Thelma, holding a bag of what looked like garden tools.
Both women turned toward us in unison.
Thelma paused. “Anna?” She looked at the three men with me on the other side of the truck. “Are you having a party at Melvin’s?”
Georgiana looked us all over and then took a step back. “Yeah. Looks like a fun party. Singing in the rain and all of that.” Her voice shook just enough. “I’ll go get everyone some hot chocolate. It’s getting cold.”
“Freeze.” Spider lifted his gun to point at the ladies. “Now walk over here.”
Thelma looked toward her friend and then gulped loudly. “I don’t understand. Is this about the pot?”
“Interfering women.” Melvin stomped down the stairs, his bony knees shaking beneath his denim shorts. Rain poured down his face. “If you hadn’t tried to get into my house, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Probably not true,” I whispered. “But we are in this mess. How about we all just go our separate ways?”
“Can’t.” Spider gestured toward the elderly ladies. “Get in the backseat of the truck. Right now.”
My knees started to shake. They’d shot a cop. Maybe killed him. They wouldn’t want to leave witnesses. Our only chance was for one of us to get free.
As if he’d read my mind, Spider pressed the gun barrel right above my ear. “Pauley? Get in the rear seat from this side, or I’ll shoot your cousin in the head.”
“But, but, but. I’m here to do math. Not go. Not go. Here to do math.” Pauley’s voice rose. He didn’t like getting wet, and I was surprised he was managing to stay so calm.
Melvin turned his gun toward Pauley.
“No,” I said, my voice high. I cleared it. “Pauley? You’re here to do math. Let’s get in the truck, out of the rain, and we can do math somewhere else. It doesn’t have to be here.”
Pauley looked up and saw the gun at my head. He ducked his and then walked around us to get in the truck. “Do not shoot my cousin.”
Spider shoved me across the front bench seat. “Any of you move back there, and I shoot her.” He jumped in beside me and rolled down the window. “Whitaker? Get your ass in the backseat of the truck. We have to figure out a better route system before we distribute later today.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Pauley will do more math for us.”
“Let Anna go,” Pauley said, kicking the back of the seat. “Let go. Anna go. Going is good. Birds go. Let Anna go.”
Melvin hesitated. “I need to check on the lab. Haven’t heard from my techs, and there was a power outage last night. We don’t want to lose any product.”
A power outage in the secret lab? Where had power outages been in town? Or in the county? I had to find out.
Spider shook his head. “Now, Whitaker. We’ll worry about your lab later.”
Melvin gave him a look and then walked around the other side to sit next to Thelma, his shotgun now pointed at the floor.
“No. My cousin goes. Now. No,” Pauley continued his litany, rocking back and forth.
“I’m okay, P,” I lied, considering Spider now had the gun in my ribs. Grease opened the driver’s door, sat, and ignited the engine. My gaze darted around the quiet subdivision. How was it possible to kidnap four people without anybody seeing? There was nobody in sight. Just stubborn rain, perfectly manicured lawns, and a lot of bright flowers getting really wet.
That quickly, we drove out of the retirement community and onto the road, heading toward I-90. “Where are you taking us?” I asked, my voice shaking. I needed to throw up.
“We don’t have a lot of choices here,” Grease said, pressing harder on the gas pedal.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Spider muttered. “Shooting a cop.”
Grease hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, you did,” I countered. Could I get these two fighting? There had to be a way to save Pauley and the women. Thelma cried softly in the backseat, while Georgiana remained silent, eyeing the doors. Good. She’d be ready to go if I made a move.
Pauley kicked my seat, his body hunched over, his gaze on his notebook.
We drove onto I-90 toward Washington state, and my hope of anybody seeing us leave disappeared. We were on our own.
Chapter 39
I was a little relieved when Grease took the exit nearest the border and wound through the residential area toward the Lorde’s apartment complex, remaining in Idaho. At least they weren’t taking us out in the woods somewhere to shoot. Yet. For now, they seemed to need Pauley. “I saw your map,” I said to Spider. “How are you transporting the drugs?”
“You talk too much.” He shoved the gun harder into my ribs.
I lowered my voice. “You can’t seriously be considering hurting Pauley and these two nice ladies.” It was unthinkable.
“I’ve done worse,” he said, his voice grim. “So has your boyfriend.”
Aiden wouldn’t hurt me. It went against everything I knew about his pathol
ogy. Spider, on the other hand, obviously had no problem with the idea.
We pulled into the parking area of the complex, which was deserted in the heavy rain. The garage doors were closed.
“We should do this somewhere else,” Grease said. “Away from our base.”
Icicles pricked up along my skin, and I trembled. He was serious. I started to panic when the sound of motorcycle pipes echoed against the building. Aiden roared up, swinging his bike around to park. He strode for the truck and yanked open the driver’s door, grabbing Grease by the neckline and jerking him from the truck. “What did you do?” he growled.
Grease swung out, and Aiden caught his fist with one hand, the sound harsh, even over the loud purring of the truck engine.
I gulped.
Rain matted Aiden’s wet hair to his head, and his eyes blazed an avenging blue. In his leather cut, with the storm waging around him, he looked furious. Hell, he was furious. “Get out, Whitaker.”
Melvin audibly gulped and stepped out of the truck; the shotgun pointed down but still looking deadly. “I don’t want any part of this. I’m a chemist. That’s all. I’m not a murderer.”
“Shut that door,” Aiden ordered.
Whitaker obeyed, his beady gaze darting all around.
Spider opened his door and dragged me out, keeping the gun to my side. “Devlin? “We have to talk about this.”
In a move that was as fast as it was shocking, Aiden pulled a gun from the back of his waist and smashed the butt against Grease’s temple. Grease’s eyelids actually fluttered shut, and he dropped to the ground with a harsh thud. Aiden turned and kicked the shotgun out of Melvin’s hands, and it clipped across the wet cement and under the truck.
Man, he was fast.
He then slammed the driver’s door, lifted his gun and pointed it at Spider, walking around the front of the truck with an animal’s grace.
Spider backed away from the truck, pulling me with him.
Keeping us in his sights, Aiden kicked the passenger door closed. “Ladies? Get Pauley and yourselves out of here,” he ordered, over the pounding rain.
Disorderly Conduct (The Anna Albertini Files Book 1) Page 26
