The Misadventures of Maggie Mae Boxed Set

by Beth Yarnall

  I found where we needed to go and guided him to the freeway. The silence sat between us like an overweight third passenger. I stared out the window, fiddled with the radio, filed my nails, and tried to sleep—anything to relieve the tension.

  I finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Why did Kostya insist on you coming with me?”

  “He has this crazy notion that I’m still in love with you. He thought it would be some kind of romantic reunion.”

  I snorted. “He still reads romance novels?”

  “All the time.”

  “You’re not though, right?”

  Now it was his turn to scoff. “What do you think?”

  Honestly, I had no idea. I hoped not. This trip was uncomfortable enough without that complication. “Maybe if he wasn’t so busy matchmaking he wouldn’t have lost his money to my brother.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Your club seems to be doing well.”

  “It is.” He tapped the steering wheel in time with the music on the radio. “You in love with that Fed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You always did have rotten taste in guys.”

  “You included?”

  “I’m the one exception.”

  I laughed, but it wasn’t very convincing. “Sure you are.”

  “Why’d you keep it?”

  His question caught me by the throat. “What?”

  “The tattoo.”

  I hitched a shoulder, trying to hide my overreaction. “I didn’t want to forget.”

  And that was the God’s honest truth. I didn’t ever want to forget the catalyst that had made me finally wake the heck up and leave Sergei. The sound of the shots. The look on my best friend Bea’s face when the bullet hit her square in the chest. The bullet that had been meant for Sergei. I would’ve been standing next to him, but I’d gone back to the car to get something, leaving Bea to take the bullet for me.

  “Why did you keep your tattoo?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t have mattered if I removed it. Can’t erase memories with a laser.”

  “No. You can’t.”

  “Do you ever wonder…?” He shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “No. I don’t. The dreams are bad enough.”

  “Yeah.”

  I glanced over at him. He dreamed too?

  “I was there, myshka,” he said quietly. “I was there.”

  Turning away, I hid the tears that suddenly sprang up out of nowhere. I hated to cry. Especially about things I couldn’t change.

  He reached over and clasped my hand. It had been so long since we’d touched. I’d almost forgotten how it felt. It was more than ironic that I should find comfort from the person who’d caused so much of my pain. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with unresolved feelings.

  Freaking Kostya and his freaking romance novels.

  We drove in silence the rest of the way. I was afraid anything I thought to say would just lead us back to the thing neither one of us wanted to talk about. So I kept conversation to turn-by-turn directions. He never let go of my hand.

  After what felt like forever, but was really a little over two hours, we pulled into Coos Bay. I’d forgotten what a picturesque town it was. If I had been with anyone else for any other reason I would’ve wanted to take a walk on the boardwalk and watch the sunset. But I wasn’t here to enjoy myself. I was here to find my brother.

  I directed Sergei to the Sunset Bay State Park. The sun lay low in the sky, dipping its bottom edge into the Pacific Ocean and sending out fragile pinks, oranges and yellows across the water. I wished Super Agent were here to see this. We hadn’t even taken a vacation together yet. This felt a lot like cheating on him for some reason, making me more uncomfortable than ever.

  I slid my hand from Sergei’s, disguising the gesture by pointing out the campground office. “Let’s find out which cabin he’s in.”

  We climbed out of the car and headed toward the entrance. When we got inside, a young woman greeted us with a chirpy hello. I hung back and let Sergei handle this. Back in the day when we’d run cons of our own, we had a deal that I would handle the men and he’d handle the ladies. It seemed that part of our past wasn’t so past tense.

  Sergei leaned on the counter, amping up his megawatt smile and his accent. “Hi. I’m Sergei. My sister Maggie and I are hoping you can help us. We’re looking for our brother, Michael Cast. He wanted us to come up and hang out, but he’s not answering his cell and he didn’t tell us which cabin he was in.”

  “Oh.” She blushed. “I’m not really supposed to give that kind of information out.”

  Sergei leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t want to get you in any trouble.”

  “I’d help you if I could.”

  “I know you would. We’ll just keep trying his cell.” He started to go and then turned back around, cranking up the charm to blinding. “If I leave without saying anything I know I’ll regret it later so… You’re very pretty.” He lowered his voice to where I could barely hear. “I swore I wouldn’t get involved so soon after my girlfriend cheated…” He worked up the perfect expression, a combination of sadness yet hopefulness. “But I feel like we have a connection.”

  The girl nodded and leaned a little closer, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He had her eating out of his hand now. This is why we’d been so successful.

  “Would you join me for a walk later…after you get off work?” Sergei said. “Or we could just sit and talk right there on the porch.” He jabbed a finger over his shoulder. “If we ever get a hold of our brother,” he added for emphasis. Man he was good.

  The girl bit her lip. I held my breath.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…” She looked through her records. “He’s in cabin 23.”

  “What time do you get off work?”

  “Seven.”

  “I’ll see you at six fifty-nine.” He traced a finger along her jaw line, making her shudder. “Beautiful.”

  We started to leave, but the girl brought our attention back to her. “My name’s Rebecca.”

  “Rebecca…” Sergei said her name like a blessing, giving her one last smoldering look before we left.

  We climbed back into the car. I didn’t feel good about the way we’d tricked that girl, getting her hopes up. That wasn’t the person I was anymore…or at least the person I was trying to be.

  Sergei turned to me, his smile triumphant. “Just like old times.”

  “Yeah. Just like them.”

  He started the car and put it in drive. “I miss having you as my partner.”

  I didn’t comment. There might have been a few things I missed about Sergei, but tricking innocent people wasn’t one of them.

  We wove our way through the campground, looking for Miguel’s cabin. Sergei drove past it and then turned around, parking a couple of cabins away. There were too many cars around cabin 23. I had a real bad feeling about this.

  We climbed out of the car and slipped between two other cabins, heading around the back. The shotgun-style cabins were long and narrow with a living room that led to a bedroom that led to the kitchen at the back. Each had a front and back door with mere feet separating one cabin from the other.

  It freaked me out more than a little how Sergei and I had fallen into our old partnership roles without communicating. Careful not to make any sound, we ducked under the windowed backdoors of the other cabins. When we got to Miguel’s cabin, Sergei dipped below the window in the door and came up on the other side. We slowly and carefully crouched low and peered up into the window.

  For heaven’s sake! When was I going to catch a break?

  The bulky outline of Kostya’s number-one goon, Ivan, filled most of the window. I could just make out Miguel’s profile as he sat tied to a chair, his chin on his chest. There was another guy, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Probably another of Kostya’s men. I closed my eyes and slid down the door. We were too late.

  Sergei leaned against my shoul
der and whispered, “The deal was for whoever brought Miguel back to Kostya, not for who got to him first.”

  That was true. “We can steal him back.”

  “Yup.”

  We crouch-walked back the way we’d come and climbed into the car.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked.

  “We’ll wait here and see where they take him. And look for an opportunity to snatch him back.”

  That didn’t seem like much of a plan. In fact it was a completely chicken plan and totally unlike Sergei. Either he was losing his touch or there was something else going on here, like maybe he’d tipped off Kostya. Or else he was running his own end game that neither Kostya nor I knew about. If I had to lay down money I’d put it on the latter. Sergei, like Miguel, always worked his own angle and had at least two contingency plans in reserve.

  My fingers itched to pop my battery back in my phone and call Super Agent. He’d swarm the place and arrest Kostya’s goons and Miguel. The only wrench in that plan was that I didn’t know what orders Kostya had given his guys. They might just shoot Miguel to satisfy Kostya’s revenge before trying to escape.

  “What makes you think they’re going to move him alive?” I asked, spitting out a piece of fingernail. I’d chewed my nails to nubs over my idiotic brother. Waiting was not my best skill.

  “Kostya won’t kill him until he sees him and says what he needs to say. It’s an old- school kind of thing that’s going to work in our favor.”

  “They could just pack him onto a plane and we’ll never get our chance.”

  He made a scoffing noise. “It would be really hard to explain a tied-up man to airline staff if you’re not the police, and Kostya’s too cheap to pay for private. They’ll drive him back down to Arizona.”

  What he said had a certain kind of logic to it—frustrating and aggravating logic—but logic nonetheless.

  It was full dark before anything stirred near cabin 23. But it wasn’t the Hail Mary we needed. It was more like the makings of complete and total cluster-up.

  Helpful Rebecca of the front office strolled up to the cabin, no doubt wondering why Sergei hadn’t shown for their little get-to-know-you-so-I-can-get-in-your-pants chat.

  I punched Sergei in the arm. “Your girlfriend is here looking for you, lover. You’d better go head her off before she knocks—shoo! Too late. Actually…this might be the break we’ve been waiting for. You go talk to Rebecca and distract Ivan. I’ll see if I can go in through the back and sneak Miguel out.”

  He slipped a knife out of his boot. “Need this?”

  I pulled my much-bigger knife out of my bra and rolled my eyes at him. Switching off the overhead light, I opened the car door, then ran behind the cabins, ducking under windows, until I got to Miguel’s cabin. Slipping the lock pick into the keyhole I began working on the lock. Bingo.

  “Rebecca!” Sergei shouted.

  I heard her say something in return. Ivan said something I couldn’t understand.

  This was my cue. I kept low as I slowly opened the back door. Sergei was talking to Ivan and the other goon in Russian at the front of the cabin, probably feeding them some B.S. line. I found Miguel tied to a chair in the kitchen.

  His head popped up when he saw me, surprise parting his lips, but he was smart enough not to make a sound. I quickly cut his bonds and then signaled for him to follow me back out the way I’d come. He nearly fell on his face when he tried to stand up.

  “My legs are asleep,” he whispered.

  I checked over my shoulder. Sergei still had them occupied out front, but not for much longer. Grabbing Miguel’s arm, I slung it around my neck and helped him stand. We made slow progress, but soon we were behind the cabins, headed for the car.

  “Faster,” I told him in a low voice. “We’re almost there.”

  I was grateful for the darkness as I shoved Miguel into the backseat and then went around to the driver’s side. Sergei had left the keys so I could grab Miguel and then swing around front to pick him up.

  “Stay down,” I told Miguel as I started the car. “I’ll tell you when to get up.”

  “Thank God you got here when you did. Kostya was due any minute.”

  Sure enough, just as we passed cabin number 23 and the little group standing around out front, we also passed Kostya in a car headed in the opposite direction.

  I hit the accelerator, skidding around a corner and out the front gate of the campground. I was going so fast I almost missed the look of shock on Sergei’s face as I waved goodbye. This was not part of our pact. We always met up if separated. My wave let him know that I was leaving his double-crossing ass here with Rebecca and his crazy-assed uncle.

  By the time I hit the highway, we were going about forty miles an hour above the speed limit. I was sure Kostya and his goons had seen me, so I wanted to put as much distance between us as possible.

  Miguel sat up and clicked his seatbelt on. “That was awesome, sis. Just like the old da—hey!”

  I reached back and hit him. I kept on hitting him as best as I could with one hand on the wheel, nearly swerving into the next lane. “That was not awesome.” Slap. “I can’t believe I’m related to you.” Slap, slap. “You’re such an idiot.” Slap, slap, slap.

  He tried to dodge me, but he was so big I landed more smacks than I missed.

  “Jesus, stop! Dang it, Maggie. You’re as bad as Mom.”

  That earned him three more whacks. “You think I wanted to fly up here to save your sorry ass with Sergei as a chaperone? I’m out of vacation days so this is coming out of my sick pay, and I was planning on using them for a trip to Mexico. I can’t believe you were dumb enough to cheat Kostya out of two and a half million freakin’ dollars. What were you thinking?” I hit him once more to drive the message home.

  “I didn’t take Kostya’s money.”

  “Right. And I’m not Queen of My-Brother’s-a-Frickin’-Idiot-Ville.”

  “I swear to God, Maggie. I didn’t steal his money. Sergei did.”

  And suddenly it all made sense. Sergei must’ve said something to Kostya back at the restaurant to get himself in on the hunt for Miguel and then played it off as Kostya’s romantic side. Add to it his willingness to help me find Miguel and get him away from Kostya’s goons. There was only one reason why. He wanted to find out how much Miguel knew and then he’d get rid of Miguel himself.

  “Are you being straight with me? Because I swear to God, Miguel, that if you’re lying to me I’m going to mule-kick your nuts so far up into your head they’ll replace your eyeballs.”

  He grabbed his crotch and crossed his legs defensively.

  “I don’t like being played…by you or Kostya or Sergei. Now tell me what happened with Kostya’s money before I turn this car around and deliver you right back into his lap.”

  Miguel laid it all out. Sergei was the one behind the Ponzi scheme. He’d gotten his uncle to invest a butt-load of cash and then fixed the books so it looked like Miguel had taken off with the money.

  “Only I’m smarter than Sergei thinks,” Miguel said.

  I highly doubted that. Sergei had counted on the fact that Miguel had built a reputation for screwed-up deals and less-than-honest business practices. From the beginning I’d wondered why Sergei would go into business with my brother. Now I knew. He needed a fall guy and Miguel was practically perfect in every single way.

  My gut burned, thinking about how I’d nearly broken down in front of Sergei. He’d played on my sympathies and sentimentality. And I’d let him. There was more than one idiotic Castro sibling in this car.

  “I found the offshore bank account where Sergei hid the money,” Miguel continued. “I have the account number. He doesn’t know I found it. I took off, trying to buy some time so I could hack into the bank account and get Kostya’s money back. Then Ivan and Andrei showed up and I was out of time.”

  “Instead of going to the police?” I couldn’t believe this guy had procreated. Just what the world needed…more Miguels. I pull
ed the car over. “Get in the front seat.”

  “You’re not going to drive off as soon as I get out of the car, are you?”

  “You have ten seconds…ten…nine…”

  He quickly climbed out of the back and into the front and we were once again speeding down the highway. I continued up Highway 101 to the 5 Freeway heading north back up to Eugene and the airport. As everyone would expect.

  And then it hit me.

  Dang it. I resisted the urge to smack myself in the forehead. I was so dumb. I’d played right into Sergei’s scheme.

  My escape with Miguel had gone off without a hitch. Pretty much right on cue. Looking back, I realized everything that had happened since I’d approached Sergei’s club had fallen together almost as though things were going according to plan. Sergei had been too complicit and too cooperative from the start, helping me find Miguel. He wasn’t exactly the helpful sort. I’d been so focused on my own feelings in that club that I hadn’t seen what was right in front of me. Sergei hadn’t been surprised. He’d been triumphant. I’d come to him exactly the way he’d planned.

  The mess Miguel and I were in was so much deeper than I’d imagined. Whatever Sergei’s end game was, I was somehow a part of it. I needed to come up with something to throw a major wrench in the works.

  “Why didn’t you go to the police?” I asked again. This all could’ve been avoided if he’d just gone to the cops in the first place.

  “Why would I go to the police?”

  I punched him in the arm. “To save yourself from being killed, ya dumbass.”

  “Hey! I didn’t move up here just so you could get in a better shot.”

  “You have no idea what I’ve been through in the last two days because of you. I went to see Sergei, for God’s sake.” My vision got all watery, which pissed me off even more. “And you could’ve been killed.”

  “Aw, jeez, Maggie. You’re not going to cry, are you? Shoot. I’m sorry.” He put his arm around me and laid his head on my shoulder.

  I swiped at my eyes, trying to see the road. It hadn’t really hit me until this moment—with him here safe beside me—just how bad things could’ve turned out, how bad they could still be. And it was more than the blame my mother would crash down on top of my head. I’d miss the big dumb oaf.