Reckless Road

by Christine Feehan

  Player.

  With the way she said his name, brushing it so intimately along the walls of his mind, gently stroking each letter, each syllable, so lovingly, she took his soul.

  I don’t want to be that man, putting my job ahead of yours. He didn’t. I don’t think I’m more important than you are, or that what I do should come before what you do. He knew that much was true. But what was he thinking? Or saying? Or trying to say?

  Now that I’m really looking at myself and putting it in perspective, I don’t want you to take a second job because I don’t want to give up my music. It’s part of who I am. It was part of his soul. He needed music. I have to play. But maybe I don’t have to play with the band in the bar at night. It’s possible I could give those nights up to be here at the restaurant with you if this job means that much. I could chop vegetables for Alena. She needs the help.

  Player, stop, Zyah gently chided him. You’re overthinking everything. We’ve got time. Right now, I’m worried about Mama Anat. Are you certain they can’t get to her?

  On some level he knew she was distracting him just as the Torpedo Ink members had been distracting her. Still, he caught the hint of genuine worry for her grandmother. He should have known she was worried about her grandmother, not herself. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t be seen with her. Half of Torpedo Ink is with her. Jonas has Jackson Deveau watching over her as well. Just follow Alena’s lead. Everything will be fine.

  Player was grateful the two of them had such an intimate connection they could talk mind to mind. They would have an advantage if something went wrong. He didn’t like using her as bait to draw the thieves out, but he knew the robbers were getting desperate. Better to be ready for them, draw them out into the open, have them make their move on Torpedo Ink’s terms, than have to scramble to keep Zyah and Anat safe.

  Once Zyah laid out her concerns to him, that Francine was the local snitch, he was certain she was right. He already had his suspicions about Terrie Frankle working with the thieves. He had no real reason, other than she had access to every household where the robberies had taken place other than Perry’s parents. He’d asked Jackson Deveau to check for him. The deputy had done so and confirmed Frankle had been the therapist for someone in each household.

  Code had checked further to see if the therapist had worked in any of the other small towns where the robberies had occurred prior to Sea Haven. In every other case, Frankle had worked as a therapist. When she hadn’t, a man by the name of Lester Gibbons worked as a traveling therapist. They alternated. While Code was following that trail, apparently Jackson had been doing the same thing. It hadn’t taken much to convince Jonas and Jackson to let them give Frankle and the crew their shot at the Gamals.

  Destroyer is in the house with Anat. Lana is on the roof across the street, and she never misses. Jackson Deveau is right there to stop anything, and Czar has the other half of Torpedo Ink watching over her. I’m telling you, baby, she’s safe. Just please stay close to Alena when you walk into the kitchen. We have no idea if they’ll take the bait, but if they do, that’s where it might happen.

  Zyah suddenly stopped right at the door of the kitchen, pulling her phone from the pocket of her jeans and looking down at it. “Francine is calling me. She never calls. She always texts.”

  “Answer it,” Steele commanded. He was used to running their operations, forgetting Jonas was also wired in.

  “Act normal, Zyah,” Jonas counseled.

  Zyah kept the phone close to her ear so the extremely sensitive wire in her ear could pick up Francine’s voice.

  “You said to call if I needed you, Zyah. You have to come get me right now.” There was a sob in Francine’s voice. She sounded frantic—and genuine.

  “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

  “I was so stupid wearing Gran’s jewels. I was robbed. They beat me up. You have to come get me right now.”

  “Do you need an ambulance? Where are you? I can’t come get you if I don’t know where you are, Francine.”

  “Are you at home?”

  “No, hon, I’m at Crow 287. I’m interviewing for another job, but it doesn’t matter, I’ll come get you. Just tell me where you are. I can send someone if I’m not close enough.”

  “No!” Francine wailed the denial so loud it hurt Player’s ear. “It has to be only you. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Gran. I wasn’t supposed to be wearing the jewelry. The insurance won’t cover it.”

  Francine sounded like she was babbling. The way she went from sobbing to talking almost crazy to then insisting that Zyah come alone puzzled Player. He found himself nearly believing the woman, that she’d been robbed and was terrified and wanted her friend to help her. That she couldn’t get herself under control and didn’t know how to face her grandmother. God only knew what had happened to her or how severely the thieves had hurt her. On the other hand, why was she insisting Zyah come alone?

  “Francine.” Zyah poured authority into her voice. “Honey, I need to know where you are. I’m coming to get you, but you have to tell me where you are. Do you need anything?”

  “Promise me you’ll come alone. You won’t bring Player.”

  “Why do I need to come alone? Why is that so important?”

  Francine shrieked unintelligibly into the phone, her words nothing but gibberish, crying so loud that if Player could have easily done so, he would have removed his earpiece. He was fairly certain all of them would have. Why would she specifically tell Zyah not to bring Player with her? That raised all kinds of red flags.

  “Calm down, Francine. I can’t understand anything you’re saying.”

  “You have to come get me right now. Just you. Please, Zyah. I know I haven’t always been a very good friend, but I really need you. I’m at the headlands. You know where the blowhole is, right? Just there.”

  Zyah looked up, straight toward the shadows where Player was concealed, her expression sorrowful. That particular spot was on the bluffs, overlooking the ocean. Down from the headlands, in the town of Sea Haven, Zyah’s grandmother lived on one street, and a street over, with the blowhole centered in between, was Francine’s grandmother’s home. Francine could easily walk to where she lived. In the time it would take for Zyah to drive from the restaurant in Caspar to the headlands in Sea Haven, Francine could easily be home.

  Francine must have realized by Zyah’s silence what she was thinking. “My clothes are torn, Zyah. I can’t walk around looking like this. Someone might see me.” She had lowered her voice as if someone might hear her.

  Zyah’s expression changed to one of horror. Player willed her to replay the sound of Francine’s voice, not just hear the words every woman feared most. Alena touched Zyah’s arm very gently. Zyah took a visible breath.

  “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

  “A coat if you have one.”

  “I do. I’ll come right away.” Zyah ended the call before Francine could say anything else.

  Eyes are on you, baby. Take a deep breath. You can do this.

  She was lying. At the end, she was lying. I don’t know about her clothes, but she was lying about not being able to walk home.

  I know.

  “She was lying,” Zyah said aloud to the others. “I know her very well. I know her voice, the inflections. She wasn’t telling the truth. She lives right down the road from where she says she is. She could walk from there. She’s setting me up. She has to be the one who is helping all the thieves break into the neighborhood homes.”

  Ink, do you have eyes on the spotter? We have to take him out the minute Zyah is in her car, Steele commanded, using telepathic communication so Jonas was unaware.

  They all heard the cry of an owl missing its prey. I’m on him. Savage is moving in on him with me. We’ll do the setup so Jonas will see we have no choice but to take him
out.

  Savage, don’t get crazy with this one, Steele cautioned. Don’t take a hit. Just make it look good so Jonas believes what we want him to believe.

  Might not have a choice. Jonas has to believe this is real, Steele. I’ll do my best.

  “I’m going to have to go alone in the car,” Zyah said. “They have someone watching. I can feel them out there.”

  “No way are you going alone,” Player said decisively. “Absolutely not.”

  “She’s the bait,” Jonas said. “That was the entire point of the setup. She doesn’t go, we’re not going to catch them. Your entire club is going to be surrounding her. Not to mention I’ll be there.”

  “I’m going with her,” Alena announced. “Come on, Zyah. We’re going in my car. I brought the BMW. She rides like a dream. We’ll go through the kitchen.”

  “You have a restaurant to run,” Zyah protested.

  “I brought in help for the night,” Alena said, looking smug. “Delia and Bannister are cooking for me tonight while I’m gone. Delia has tons of experience. She’ll handle things just fine while I’m with you. They aren’t going to freak because you’re with another woman.”

  “She’s right about that,” Jonas said. “They won’t like it, but they won’t see her as a threat. Don’t wear your colors.”

  Alena gave a little sniff of absolute disdain as she let the kitchen door swing closed behind them, cutting off Player’s view of his woman. His heart nearly stopped. He turned immediately and nearly sprinted down the hall to a small door built into the wall, the one that was an escape should they need it. He exited the building that way. Jonas and Keys followed him out. Player moved around to the side of the building where the owl had called to them.

  Running, they almost plowed into Savage and an assailant seemingly struggling. One appeared to have a knife and was stabbing it into the ribs of the other man.

  “Savage,” Player hissed.

  Jonas shoved Player out of the way, weapon out, blazing fire, the bullet taking the assailant in the side of the head, spinning him around, dropping him to the ground, the knife falling from nerveless fingers. Jonas swore as he kept running toward the two men. Savage kicked the knife farther away, and then did the same with a gun, Player could see as they came up on the dead man.

  “Thanks,” Savage said, glancing at Jonas. He had one hand covering his side. Blood leaked between his fingers. “I saw the gun but not the knife.”

  “How bad?” Jonas went straight to him.

  Savage backed away, his movement instinctive. “I’ve had a lot worse. He barely got me. I’ll head out with Player and get this cleaned up by the time we get to Sea Haven.”

  “You’ll need to stay here. I have to turn in my weapon. I can’t just kill someone and not have witnesses.”

  “Take a few pictures, but do it fast. We’re not having Alena and Zyah hanging out there by themselves. If you have to stay here with the body and wait for your people,” Player said, “I’ll need Savage with me to make certain the women are safe.”

  Jonas glanced down at his phone and swore. “Jackson just let me know that Terrie Frankle pulled up in front of Anat’s house. She’s going up to the front door now. Lift your shirt, Savage. Let me take some pictures. I’m going to need statements from all of you. Keys, Player, both of you as well as Savage.”

  “No problem,” Player said. “But right now, I’m going after my woman. If Frankle is heading into Anat’s house, you know these people are making their move.”

  Jonas swore. His hands were tied. It wasn’t like he could leave a dead body lying on the ground. It was bad enough that his three key witnesses were leaving. “Get the hell out of here before anyone else gets here.”

  * * *

  Anat unlocked the front door using her iPad, rolling back her chair to allow Terrie Frankle into her living room, greeting her with a smile. “Terrie. It’s so late, honey. Is everything okay?”

  Terrie nodded and looked around the room. The house was quiet, other than the sound of soft music playing. Anat always liked music playing in the background, even when they were working. The lights were muted, but as usual, when Zyah wasn’t home, several of the rooms were lit: the living room and Anat’s bedroom and sitting room. Terrie had driven past the house several times, both by the front of the house and down the narrow, less traveled street in back. The garage and back of the house and entire upstairs remained dark.

  “Usually, you have someone staying with you until your granddaughter gets home, but when I drove by, it looked like you were alone. I was worried, so I thought I’d just stop for a minute and check on you. Is everything all right?” Terrie poured worry into her voice.

  She’d taken acting classes, and they always came in so handy in these situations. The elderly were lonely and wanted company. They wanted to talk and share their stories. They wanted people to see them, and Terrie was good at making them believe she cared about them. Her partner, Lester Gibbons, was just as good. He was charming and good-looking. The women fell for him, and the men liked him. They made an excellent team. They were equally ruthless and had no compunction about killing if they needed to.

  “That is so like you, dear,” Anat said. “Inez was supposed to be here tonight, but some dear friends of hers are in the hospital, and she and Frank went to see them. I guess things aren’t going so well with them, so they stayed there. Zyah will be home soon. She just texted me that she’ll be here soon. She needed to stop by and see Francine.”

  Terrie didn’t like that there was a text message from Zyah about Francine, but it wouldn’t matter. Francine and Zyah would both be dead. Anat as well now. That little text message had sealed her fate. She winced at the idea of the mess that had occurred at the Randall estate. Francine was supposed to get Zyah to dinner, away from her grandmother’s house, but Francine seemed to be so useless lately. She’d texted that Anat had visitors but that the Randall estate was ripe for the picking, and described just how to get in.

  Francine had been right: the estate was a gold mine. Unfortunately, Gray Randall had tried to pull a gun on Lester, and Lester had gone crazy, the way he did when anyone thwarted him. He was already angry that they’d stayed in Sea Haven so long. They had rules. Those rules had kept them safe. They’d lost two members of their team, and their team was tight-knit.

  “I heard something about that,” Terrie said, her voice dripping with sympathy. “I never met them. Were they friends of yours?”

  Lester had been smoldering with rage. He took it out on Randall, beating him, stomping him when he was down and then going back for more. When Randall’s wife interfered, Lester became enraged all over again. She had been hard-pressed to stop him. It had taken both Charlie, another team member, and Terrie to pull him away. Even then, Lester went back three times, with the alarms blaring and him swearing like a sailor. He’d even shoved her, something he’d never done before.

  “Not really. The Randalls kept to themselves, although some of my friends knew them. Lizz, and Inez, of course,” Anat said. “No one should have that happen to them.”

  Terrie had waited for Lester to get himself under control and suggested they cut and run, but he’d refused. Francine had insisted Anat was hiding a huge treasure in her home, the biggest anyone had. He was furious that the old lady had deceived them, and worse, Terrie hadn’t discovered what she was hiding, so he blamed her as well that they were still in Sea Haven. The property was worth a fortune, and Francine had no reason to lie, so no matter how frugally it appeared they lived, the Gamals were most likely very wealthy.

  “I agree, Anat: no one should have that happen to them. It could so easily have been avoided.” Terrie kept her voice smooth. Gentle. It was time to come to an understanding. By now, Zyah should be in Lester’s hands, or at least close. She pulled out her phone to check for messages.

  Right now Ralph, another team member, was following Zyah ba
ck to the headlands. His job had been to keep an eye on Francine, and he’d spotted the stupid bitch wearing jewelry worth a massive fortune when she was eating dinner with Perry Randall. She tried to lie to them and say it was costume—as if they wouldn’t know the difference. Lester was so out of patience with her, he’d threatened her grandmother and told her to bring the jewelry to the blowhole. When she met him there, he beat her, took the jewelry and told her to call Zyah and get her there or his next visit was to the grandmother. It would be anyway. Francine admitted there was a lot more jewelry. They weren’t leaving without it.

  Terrie knew Lester was certain Anat would cave and give them the big treasure if they had a knife to Zyah’s throat or if he started beating her.

  Anat frowned. “I don’t know what that means, Terrie. I must have missed something. I admit I didn’t read much on what happened to the Randalls because it was too much like what happened to me and I still get very upset. Did they do something to provoke the thieves?”

  Terrie rolled her eyes as she hastily texted. Her team member Randy was supposed to have joined her by now. He’d been in the car behind hers, patrolling. He was to make two rounds to ensure no one was near, and then she would let him in. They would spend whatever time with the old lady they needed.

  Lester texted her that a car was parking at the headlands and that Ralph had texted him that two women, Zyah and her friend Alena, the owner of Crow 287, had come together. But no worries, the three men could handle them—just take care of the old lady. He hadn’t been able to raise Ralph since, but they’d learned cell phone service was spotty in places on the coast, and he wasn’t worried. He was going to do Francine immediately. He despised the whiny little bitch. Get it done so they could get to Francine’s home, score everything in one night and get out. He sent her kiss emojis. The door opened behind her, and Randy strode in, grinning evilly at Anat.

  “Bet you don’t remember me without my mask,” he greeted.