by Dee, Cara
“Oh, relax. They can sense you right now, and they’re getting the fuck outta dodge.” He elbowed Gray lightly. “Baby, you’re more likely to win the lottery.”
“People get bitten by rattlesnakes all the time,” Gray argued.
“People win the lottery all the time too, but that’s beside the point,” Darius said. “You’re stuck on the risk of dying…? Ain’t gonna happen. They’d have to go for the jugular or something. Worst-case scenario, you get a bite in the leg, and it hurts for a while before you can get antivenom.”
“I feel like you’re downplaying that a whole lot.”
“I’m really not, and you’re gonna have to trust me for now.” Darius pointed ahead of them, and Gray was surprised to see they were nearly at the house. “You ready?”
Gray nodded and took a steadying breath. “For the record, though… You told me there were no sharks when we got stranded, and what a load of horseshit that turned out to be.”
Darius gave him a look before continuing. “I’ll take the eastern side, including the trailer. You go west, and then we meet up at the front of the house.” He pulled out his phone, probably to check if Willow had any updates.
“Anything?” Gray asked.
Darius shook his head and pocketed his phone again. “We’ll proceed anyway. We’re just looking.”
So far.
They split up once they got closer, and Gray finally found his focus. He eyed the backyard and got a bad feeling. There was a sandbox in the corner of the lawn. The light from the living room illuminated the space enough to let Gray see all the various escape routes. The windows, the sliding doors on the porch, the picket fence was a simple jump, and the highway was right there. Hell, even the desert was an option. If Jackie was really here, they couldn’t keep him in one of the rooms. Nothing short of chaining him to a post would keep him in place.
Unless he’d been pushed down mentally to the point of collapse.
Gray knew it was a possibility, and he had once felt the effects of it himself. Especially on the yacht, when the slightest thing could trigger a crushing blow of defeat mentally. He remembered when they’d lost Linus, who’d jumped overboard to die a free man. Gray had been so fucking fragile. Rhyme or reason hadn’t existed, and he’d just shuttled between states of chaos and surrender.
Deeming there were no sensor-driven lights or anything on the porch, Gray jumped over the fence once he reached the short end, and he carefully snuck over to the bedroom window. And it was a bedroom window. He peered inside and found a bed, a nightstand, a desk, and…drawings on the wall. They had to be made by children.
Nothing looked like it belonged in today’s modern world. Time had stopped out here.
Gray continued through the driveway and shook his head at the rusted-up doll stroller.
He stopped to peer into the car, but it was too dark to see much. A couple beer cans on the passenger’s seat. The padding was torn in places. But…hmm. Knowing this would be the last car to have an alarm, he tried the door, and it opened with a clunky release. Score. After checking over his shoulder, Gray planted his knee on the driver’s seat and popped open the glove box.
He pushed aside a pile of trash—candy wrapper, rubber bands, some crinkled paper, tissues—and found what he hoped was the registration for the car. Given that it was too dark, he smoothed out the piece of paper on the floor and pulled out his phone to take a picture. A quick flash lit up the cramped floorspace before Gray hurried to put everything back. He closed the door as soundlessly as he could and crept closer to the house wall.
Deep breaths.
Gray walked carefully toward the end of the house, and he saw Darius around the corner, not by the house, but at the edge of the road; the man was going through the mailbox.
Gray cursed the lack of light. Even the moon was useless.
He had to resort to another photo using the flash if he wanted a picture of the license plate at the back of the car.
He checked the house and the road once more, then took a quick shot.
“Hey,” Darius whispered. “Don’t do that.”
“I was being careful,” Gray whispered back. He pocketed his phone and returned to his inspection of the house. The first window on the front revealed a room so small that it should’ve been a closet. It was as if the two bedrooms had originally been one space, and then someone had put up a wall to split it into two. Whoever had drawn the short straw and gotten a closet for a room only had a single bed, a nightstand, and a chair. There was nothing else in there.
Gray dropped his gaze to the bottom of the window. Like everything else here, it had seen better days. The paint was peeling off, and some of the screws had come loose and rusted.
It was a house forgotten by the rest of the world, but it was no prison.
Jackie would be able to escape if he was here, which left two options. Basement or elsewhere, and Darius had only mentioned a basement very reluctantly. Technically plausible, yet kind of unlikely, because people didn’t build basements in the desert. The foundation was usually too rocky.
Gray moved on to the door next and deduced the same thing there. Escape was possible. The door was a shove or two from coming off its hinges.
As he went on to the last window, Darius joined him.
“I think he’s here,” Darius murmured under his breath. “Look into the hallway.”
Gray scanned the small kitchen first. There was a light in the window that seemed brighter than it probably was, and it showed mint-green cupboards, fading wallpaper, and a table with four chairs. Then he tilted his head to peer out into the hallway, and he narrowed his eyes at the floor. Poorly installed linoleum flooring with a plank wood design was curling up along the edges where the floor met the wall, but that wasn’t the only place. There was a cut-out square in the middle of the hall. A small rug had been thrown haphazardly on top but didn’t cover more than half of it. And coincidentally, a bump under the rug could only be one thing. A latch.
“You see it?”
Gray nodded. “It’s gotta be a basement.”
A shadow suddenly appeared across the floor, and Gray sucked in a breath and ducked down. At the same time, Darius dodged sideways and plastered himself to the house wall.
Gray peered up at him for direction.
Darius inched toward the window slowly, only to back away again. Then he pulled out his phone and rounded the corner of the house, though just for a second or two. Maybe he’d done it to shield the lit screen.
“Willow’s blowing up my phone.” He kept his voice down and tried glancing into the kitchen again. “He’s getting beer and—something. I can’t see. Maybe we should—wait.” He strained his neck to see better. “He’s heating something in the microwave.”
Gray sighed in frustration. “I wish we could get some confirmation.”
“I think we’re about to,” Darius murmured. “When I passed the living room, he was finishing his TV dinner. I don’t think this is for him.”
A silence followed, each second chipping away at Gray’s patience. Jackie hadn’t seen his parents since last year. If Gray remembered correctly, the guy had been kidnapped in August. Was it too long? Had Jackie reached his limit? It was a matter of time, nothing else. Everyone had a limit.
“Now,” Darius whispered. “He’s bringing the food to the basement. You can look.”
Gray straightened and zeroed in on the movement in the house, and the first thing his stare landed on was the revolver tucked into the back of the man’s jeans. With the rug pushed aside and the hatch in the floor open, the man carried a tray slowly down the stairs. Gray guessed they were steep, perhaps more of a ladder than stairs, considering how careful the fucker was being. With each step, he dropped at least a foot.
“We should free Jackie tonight.” Because all Gray could picture right now was that son of a bitch forcing himself on Jackie. Would he do it before or after dinner? It was fucking sickening. “He’s just one guy, Darius. We can take him. They’ll
be two tomorrow.”
“We can’t afford any mistakes now,” Darius replied grimly. “It’s highly possible Warren calls this—whoever the fuck he is—before he heads out. If he doesn’t answer, it could make Warren suspicious.”
Gray cursed and went around a corner. They were so close. Mere feet away. And yet, Jackie wouldn’t know that he was getting rescued soon.
Stay strong, Jackie. We’re coming.
“We should get out of here.” Darius joined him and stalked over to the fence, which he leaped over with a hand planted on the top. “We have planning to do.”
Gray hated it with every fiber of his being but jogged after and jumped over the fence. Fuck, it felt wrong to leave Jackie behind.
They returned to the mountain range, and Gray went with honesty and felt this was the wrong decision.
“I’m not ruling anything out,” Darius said, “but we’re not doing shit until I’ve spoken to Willow.”
Fine.
Gray brought out his flashlight and lit up the ground so they could find the boulders where they’d left their backpacks.
Darius pressed his phone to his ear and stayed at the bottom of the hillside. “Switch to UV before you sit down anywhere,” he advised. At Gray’s confused expression, he added, “UV light exposes scorpions.”
Oh. Oh, fucking brilliant. See, that was a problem that didn’t exist in Washington.
“I think I’ll just wait here with you.” Gray attached his flashlight to one of the belt loops on his pants and hoped the light would scare away any dangerous critters. Then he brought out his phone. He wanted to study the pictures he’d taken.
“So, what’ve you got?” Darius and Willow were seemingly skipping past greetings and going straight to intel. “No, I didn’t read them yet. Fill me in.”
The photo Gray had taken of the license plate rang a bell. DC plates. Taxation without representation, it stood out at the bottom. He swiped to the photo of the registration certificate and pinched the screen, zooming in so he could read.
The car was registered to a Buck Raymond.
The certificate expired three years ago.
“Hold on, Squeezy, I think Gray’s got something.” Darius stepped closer and peered at the screen. “Good fucking job, knucklehead.” A spark of pride hit Gray in the chest. “Gray found the registration for Raymond’s car,” he told Willow, turning away. “It—yeah. Three years ago.”
Staring at his screen had robbed Gray of his vision, and when he pocketed his phone, he had to blink repeatedly and wait for his eyes to adjust again.
“Jesus Christ,” Darius muttered. “Well, it makes sense that it’s a nonviolent crime. They would’ve searched more actively otherwise.”
Gray frowned over at him but figured he’d get answers eventually. Done waiting and sick of fearing reptiles and insects when he was willing to murder another human being, he checked the settings on his flashlight and switched to UV. He didn’t know the reach—whoa. Fucking hell! There actually was one! Just one, though. Thank God. About ten feet away. It glowed faint yellow in the dark purple light. It couldn’t be more than two inches long. Gray quickly scanned farther, around the boulders, even in the cracks, but found nothing else. Welp. All right. He knew the backlight worked, that was for sure.
He jumped up on the widest rock where they’d left their bags, and he was grateful for its size. He left the UV light on and rested it on a taller rock. That way, they’d see if any deadly stingers got too cozy for comfort.
Squatting down, he dug through his backpack to find the food kit he’d brought earlier. Darius had shrugged, clearly not prioritizing food for such a short outing, but Gray was getting hungry. Besides, if they were planning on being out here all night, they would need some extra energy.
By the time Darius wrapped up his call with Willow, Gray had turned a tin container into two bowls, which he’d filled with sandwich leftovers from the journey down to California, some cinnamon roll bites that’d gone a bit stale by now, and a banana cut in two.
“You’re amazing,” Darius said and sat down. “Remind me to listen to you more often.”
Gray chuckled and extended a bottle of water. “What did Willow say?”
“Well, after I called her earlier today, she started digging into Warren’s mother’s history,” Darius replied. “Turns out, she gave up a kid for adoption forty years ago—and not a baby because she got knocked up too young or anything. It was a five-year-old boy who was already a part of the family.”
“That’s fucking cruel.” Gray couldn’t believe how some people were allowed to bring children into this world. “I assume the lost boy is Buck?”
Darius nodded. “And given the age of the brothers, our guess is they remembered each other well enough and simply reconnected later in life.” He stuck a couple pastry bites into his mouth and chewed. “Warren is three years older than Buck, so his recollection is probably clearer.” He swallowed and took a swig of water. “It gets more interesting. Buck has two outstanding warrants in DC for tax evasion and possession of narcotics. Hardly anything worth going on a manhunt for, but enough to send someone underground.”
Gray shook his head and bit into his sandwich.
“Willow’s looking into the brother we already knew about,” Darius went on. “She doesn’t think he’s involved, though. He works as a paralegal in Chicago and has a wife and three dogs, according to his social media.”
“Okay. So, what’s the plan? I still think we should free Jackie tonight.”
“I’m on the fence,” Darius said. “Part of me believes we should go too. Not only would the resistance be less, we’d also have the house to hide out in while we wait for Warren to show up.” There was a “but” coming… “The problem is the communication between the brothers. Willow’s been going through Warren’s records, and he hasn’t dialed a single number that could belong to Buck. She’s been able to trace everything to other sources. Which means it’s likely that Warren has another phone. Maybe a burner, I don’t know. But it tells us that even though he’s kinda fucking stupid, he’s smart enough to be careful.”
And on the off chance that Warren called Buck before heading out, they couldn’t afford to risk tipping off Warren.
“Would they really have such a system?” Gray wondered. “Do you think they’re that suspicious of everything?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Darius replied pensively. “Extra phones make sense in that Warren could get caught for harboring a fugitive. On the other hand, it’s reason to keep phone communications to a minimum.” He looked like he was about to say something else too, but he closed his mouth and retrieved his phone. In the low light from the screen, his eyebrows went up a fraction. “As if this wasn’t already a dream case for psychology students… We might have an Oedipus complex on our hands.” He lifted his gaze to Gray. “They grew up in that house. Their mother used to own it, and then Warren bought it and shipped her off to a retirement home in Malibu—that he pays for.”
“Oh wow.” Gray remembered a time when getting hypothetical cases to analyze from his professors had been the highlight of his week. He could follow his mother around the inn and discuss the cases for hours. “Is it safe to guess they didn’t have an awesome childhood? Living out here, of all places. The mother loses custody of one child—or gives him up freely, whatever—Warren buying the house and paying for the retirement home, and yet, he doesn’t go out to see her often. And then the fact that he’s a pedophile who buys an underage teenager as his sexual slave.”
“And he’s close enough with one brother to involve him in everything.” Darius theorized further. “Recreating something from your childhood to this degree… Jesus. It could be a hundred reasons, but…”
“None of them is looking great from Jackie’s perspective,” Gray finished. “We have no way of knowing if Warren was ever abused one way or another, possibly by his mother, but that’s usually the case—in my limited experience. I read about this in college.” His stomach r
evolted, and he couldn’t eat any more. Every minute they sat out here was another minute in captivity for Jackie. “We have to get him out of there, Darius.”
Darius scrubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw, visibly frustrated, and went into strategy mode. “We have to think about our cover too,” he stated quietly. “This can’t get back to us. Not only would we risk charges, but it would make the Feds down in Florida question the intel they have about all of us. About everything that happened at sea.”
He was right, Gray knew that. They couldn’t jeopardize what they’d worked so hard to achieve. Plus, organized crime had always walked hand in hand with corruption. If the authorities learned that Darius had played a significant role in freeing all the guys, it was possible the crime organization would find out too.
“We can compromise,” Darius decided. “Here’s the thing. Rescuing Jackie will take hours. Not the operation itself, but the aftermath of it. We don’t know what state he’s in, and chances are we gotta stay for a while to make sure he’s okay. And that presents a problem, because we can’t stay out here for two nights in a row without raising suspicion at the campground.”
Gray nodded in understanding, realizing how that would look if the police came asking campers if they’d seen anything odd. They’d left their truck and tent behind—not to mention paid the fee to stay at the site. It would be one of those details that stood out. And blending in was key, Darius had taught him.
“That rules out rescuing Jackie tonight,” Darius told him, and Gray tried not to let his disappointment show. “We don’t have to wait for Warren, though. We can get Jackie tomorrow morning.”
Gray’s eyebrows went up. “In broad daylight?”
“Who’s gonna see what happens inside the house?” Darius asked rhetorically. “By the time Warren shows up, we’ve already dealt with Buck, and Jackie will be safe.”
As soon as doubt started creeping in, Gray checked himself and shook his head. If there was one person he could trust on this level, it was Darius Quinn. He’d proven it over and over.