by Wendy Byrne
“We’re not walking in there to be slaughtered. That’s what they’re hoping we’ll do.” He shook his head. “No, I take that back. What they’re hoping for is to find us first. Believe me, if they do, we’ll never make it back there in one piece.”
“Assuming it’s one giant cover-up, what’s really going on?”
“Drugs are an obvious guess, but I still don’t get how Tony Marcos, Annie, and The Blues Stop are all tied together.”
“Did I tell you I found some blood in the dressing room one day along with a note that said ‘please help me’ in Spanish?”
“No.”
“I must have forgotten since I mentioned it to Mack, and he said he spilled wine back there. He also said the cleaning crew is Hispanic, and they must have written the note related to something else.”
“Could be true, but maybe not.” Shane flexed his jaw.
“What if they were doing something illegal at The Blues Stop after hours? Something where somebody could have gotten hurt.”
“Garrett and I weren’t there all that much until recently so anything could have been going on.”
“Before they killed Mack, he mentioned something about you spending too much time there because of me.” Feeling a lessening in the tension, I managed to roll my eyes at him. “Getting back to the case, and the fact they were looking for some kind of video tape, I assume you never shot surveillance of any kind for Vince Perry on the Marcos case?”
“Not really. I took some photos of the scene on my digital, but they’ve been entered into evidence. No secrets there. There are pictures on my jump drive, but they’re insignificant, at least as far as I remember.”
What did they want that was important enough to kill Shane, Mack, and probably me? We knew for sure cops were involved, but who and how many remained to be seen.
“The only people who can put you and me together are the people who killed Mack. Why would they be so brazen to come forward unless they knew they wouldn’t be implicated?”
I had thought about it long and hard over the last couple of days, and nothing else made sense. In my own paranoid version, the bad guys had figured out I witnessed the whole thing, which made me as vulnerable as Shane. When I factored in that I suspected the car that had hit Cara was meant for me, all my self-preservation instincts went into high gear.
“Which points right back to cops being involved in this up to their eyeballs.” He stopped for a second. “Wait a minute, where was Stu when Mack got shot?”
“That’s the thing, I didn’t see him.” I shrugged. “I guess they could have killed him too, but there would have been some kind of mention in the paper.”
“Did you ever see him come into the bar before?”
“No.” It felt like a million years ago, but it had been less than a week. “I assumed you knew him.”
He shook his head. “Nope. What did he look like?”
“Tall, dark hair, kind of good-looking, but he had a cocky way about him.”
“Not much to go on. It might be a dead end.” He blew out a breath. I could tell he was trying to formulate some kind of viable explanation for all of this.
I had waited all this time to tell him about my theory, but now I was nervous that he’d think I was delusional. “This might sound crazy, but what if Cara was hit by that car because they thought it was me. She was wearing my Florida Gators raincoat. She was making what is usually my lunch dash to the diner.”
He put his hand on his knee. “I didn’t know she was wearing your coat.”
“I didn’t realize it’s significance until I started to think about it more and more.” I sucked in a breath. “I’ve had a whole lot of time to work out all kinds of crazy theories in my head.”
“Why would somebody come after you? I guess I could see why they might be after you now, but that was before.”
“It all started when I went with you to court. Everything began to unravel from then on.” When he nodded, I continued. “What I didn’t tell you is that one night I saw Mack out back. I’m not sure what he was doing, but it must have been something important since he kept a close eye on me afterward. That’s the same day I found the note and the blood. But how does it tie together with what happened at court?” All the details that had been swimming around my head spilled out at once.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Hello…I didn’t exactly have a chance with you being beat up and all. Besides, I didn’t realize it might be connected until I had time to think.” I hesitated. “Wait a minute. Before those guys killed Mack, they said something about being mad he hadn’t scared me away. When they left, they were going to find me. That means it has to connect with something going on or about to go on at The Blues Stop.” I was getting a headache from all the twists and turns. “If, on the other hand, it does have to do with Vince’s case, shouldn’t he be warned? Shouldn’t we at least call him and see if he can help somehow? Luckily, I picked up one of those pre-paid things when I was out getting other things.”
“Have you used it?”
I shook my head. “It had to be activated by a credit card, and I figured that might be one way they could trace it.” I held up my index finger. “But full disclosure, I did call my mother from the hotel room in Milwaukee, but I acted like everything was okay. The last thing I need to do is worry her, especially when she can’t do anything about it.” And it had taken extreme willpower on my part to not venture a call or two for help. If Enrique was in town, there’s no way I would have resisted calling him.
“You didn’t tell her where you were, did you?”
I shook my head, letting his paranoid thought slither along my spine. “She didn’t ask. But she’s going on vacation with my aunt to Charleston.”
“Good thinking. If the police try to contact her, she won’t be around. At least for a while.” I handed him the phone, and he put in numbers from a credit card to activate it. He punched in Vince’s office number, but stopped. “They’ll know my voice. Pretend you’re a client of his named Gretchen Wells. And make it short in case they’re tracing calls to his office.”
The phone picked up after three rings. “Perry and McCabe Law Offices. Laura Walsh speaking.”
“Hi, Laura, this is Gretchen Wells. Is Vince in?”
The girl sniffled on the other end of the line. “I thought you knew. It’s been in all the papers.”
“Knew what?”
“Why Mr. Perry was in a horrible accident. We’re not sure if he’s going to make it.” Laura stopped speaking for a few moments. “He’s at Northwestern Hospital. The intensive care unit. Hold on a sec, let me see who’s been assigned to your case.”
My fear ratcheted to astronomical levels. My hands shook when I hit disconnect.
“What happened?” Shane was on his feet but unsteady.
“Vince Perry’s been in an accident. They’re not sure he’s going to make it.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“What the hell is going on?” Shane shouted.
“Let’s start at the beginning. Work through what we know. What we don’t. Tell me about you and Patrick and Daniel. I need to know it all.”
“It’s old news. And it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“You keep saying they’re dirty, but you’re not giving me proof. If they are somehow involved, I need to know everything. I’m tired of being in the dark with innuendos and half-stories. All I know is your stepfather knew enough about what was going on to warn you off.”
“Or intimidate me.” He rolled his eyes and fought a smile. “It’s a long story.” Shane stretched out on the bed with a pillow propped behind him.
“I have nothing but time.” I strolled over to the bed before sitting cross-legged on the other side.
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re like a rabid dog? Once you get a piece of flesh you won’t let go.”
“But I’m a really good listener.”
“You babble nonstop. How could you be a good listener?”
/>
“I only babble when I’m nervous. Otherwise, I’m a pretty levelheaded person.”
“Gabriella, can’t you take the hint? I don’t want to talk about my past.”
“Why? The past is always part of who we are. It’s inextricably linked with our future. It shapes everything we do. Everything we say. The way we interpret what happens to us.” I giggled. “Oops. Maybe I’ve been watching a little too much Dr. Phil. But it is true, you know.”
“My past sucks. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But—”
“But, nothing. I told you I don’t want to go there, and I don’t,” he snarled.
“I don’t know why I saved your sorry ass. You’re so obnoxious. We can’t have a civil conversation without you getting all huffy and closemouthed.”
“Maybe, unlike you, I don’t like divulging all the family secrets.”
“You remind me of my sister-in-law Sammie. That’s my brother Enrique’s wife. She had this crazy notion she wasn’t good enough. Is that your problem?”
“I’m glad you’ve spent so much time analyzing others, but you’re not going there with me.” His jaw tightened as if he resisted what I’d offered—a chance to unburden the demons of his past.
“You would think the fact that I saved your life would make you loosen up enough to tell me.”
“I don’t loosen,” he grumbled.
“I’ve noticed.”
“Cute. Very cute.”
“So, Mr. I-don’t-want-to-talk tough guy, where do we go from here? Fairly soon, half the country will be looking for us, and I don’t relish the idea of going to jail for either harboring a fugitive or being an accomplice. I think you owe me an explanation. Let’s start with something simple.” I placed my finger to my lips before pointing to his abdomen. “Did that scar have something to do with your family?”
“Not really.”
“That had to hurt.” I reached over and followed the path with my fingertip. The skin on his torso quivered when I pressed his scarred flesh as tears welled in my eyes.
“You have no idea.” He whispered the words as he followed my fingertip.
“I’m sure I don’t.” I smiled, blinking away the hint of tears. “Take that from a woman who needs Novocain to get my teeth cleaned. Anything more than a paper cut and I practically need hospitalization.”
He shook his head and smiled. “This didn’t come from surgery in a hospital. My guts were hanging outside my body, and there wasn’t a lot of time for anything but damage control. The scar is ugly, but battlefield treatment saved my life. I had one hell of an infection afterward, but mega doses of penicillin at an Army hospital, along with a cute nurse, brought me back to health.”
It was clear from the way he looked that he’d left a whole lot out. But I didn’t call him on it. “I’m glad to hear your near-death experience was worthwhile. If you have some hot nurse giving you a sponge bath, Oorah.”
He laughed, “Oorah is Marine speak.”
“Sorry, getting my forces mixed up here. But at least I was on the right track.”
“If it weren’t for Garrett, I wouldn’t have made it.”
“Where is Garrett? I know you two are close, and pardon me for saying this, but it seems like really bad timing since he’s nowhere to be found.”
“He’s in Vietnam with his adoptive parents, the Ryans, trying to find his Vietnamese birth mother. She gave Garrett to his adoptive parents while they were there with the Peace Corps when he was one year old. She just handed him over and said, ‘Take care of my son’ and left. They brought him home and adopted him. They’re wonderful people, but Garrett has always had this drive to find his biological mother.”
“Why now?”
Shane shrugged. “He and his adoptive parents have been talking about it for a long time. When Garrett turned thirty-five, they all decided it was time. He’d done some investigating on this end, and the pieces had all started to fall into place.”
“Well, his timing kinda sucks.” I rubbed his hand. “You’ve known Garrett for a long time?”
“Since I was a kid. His family was like a home away from home for me growing up.”
“How so?”
“My stepdad is and always was a prick. He was especially bad when my mother wasn’t around. I’d go to the Ryans’ if I knew my mom had to work or would be gone for a while and I’d be alone with him.”
“Did Daniel ever hit you?”
He shook his head. “That would have left marks. He was way too smart for that. Instead, he picked at me like I was a worthless piece of crap.”
“Why does he blame you for what happened to your mother?”
“I figured you’d sweet talk your way into hearing the story.”
“Tell me. I really want to know.”
After sucking in a deep breath, he hesitated. “Let me put on a shirt first. I’m freezing.” He pulled on a t-shirt then a sweatshirt before sitting next to me on the bed. “I finally nailed my stepfather. I knew he cheated on my mother, but he was good at not getting caught. Garrett and I were kicking around downtown Chicago on Senior Ditch Day. And there he was...” His jaw went tight. “The cocky son of a bitch had his hands all over some blonde and was walking into a hotel. Garrett and I followed him inside and saw him register at the front desk. Then we snuck up on the elevator and waited outside the room.”
“How did you know the room number?”
“Even back then, we excelled at getting the information we needed. I distracted the hotel clerk, and Garrett pulled the last entry from the computer.”
“You just waited until he came out of the room?”
“We listened at the door and heard enough to guess what was going on. Then we grabbed a pass key from a maid’s cart and went in.”
“You did…what? Some things you just can’t unsee…” I shook my head and smiled before grasping his hand. “Continue, but try not to make me gag.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I probably hadn’t thought that part through. I’ll spare you the gross details and just say he was naked and so was she.” He shook his head. “Thinking back, we were probably both lucky he didn’t shoot us.”
“What happened next?”
“I went home and told my mother. I was sure she’d leave him, but she didn’t. I hadn’t counted on the fact she’d loved him. All I’d accomplished was to upset her. Because of me she’d been distracted and thinking about what I’d said when she had a car accident and died instantly.”
I grabbed his hand and brought it to my lips. Even though I’d suspected the revelation, it still made me suck in my breath. Pinpricks of tears dotted the edges of his lashes, and all I could think about was holding him tight. While I’d wanted to get him to talk about what had happened, I felt bad dredging up the memories.
“Her death wasn’t your fault.” I uttered the words with conviction and hoped he would believe them himself.
“Logically I know that, but when you’re seventeen and the blame gets thrust squarely on your shoulders because of your actions, it doesn’t go away. I kept thinking about the ‘what ifs.’ What if we hadn’t seen him that afternoon? What if I’d kept my mouth shut? What if the hotel clerk hadn’t been so accommodating when I flirted with her? What if that maid’s cart with the keys hadn’t been in the hall? The ‘what ifs’ have ruled my thoughts for the last seventeen years.”
“What if your stepfather wasn’t unfaithful? None of that would have ever happened.”
“I should have let it go.” He shook his head.
“He was deceiving your mother whom you loved and cared about. Don’t you think it’s pretty normal for you to want to protect her?”
“I sure screwed that part up, didn’t I?”
“If you ask me, that was your stepfather’s doing, not yours.” I ran my hand down his face. His skin felt warmer than normal. “He wants to blame anybody but himself instead of taking responsibility for what he did. I’d lay odds it wasn’t the first time he cheated, just the firs
t time he got caught.”
Shane shook his head. “He’s such a prick.” I couldn’t help thinking it was the seventeen-year-old Shane who spoke those words.
Seeing the brooding look in his eyes, I knew I needed to get his mind onto other things. “I would have loved to meet your mother. Tell me about her.”
Shane smiled, his lashes still sprinkled with unshed tears. “She was tiny, a little over five feet, but brimming with life. She was the kind of person everyone gravitated to because somehow being around her made you feel good.”
“Do you have a picture?”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a photo stuffed into one of the compartments of his wallet. “This was taken on my birthday, about a month before she died.”
His hands shook slightly when he handed me the photo. I didn’t know if it was due to emotion or physical weakness.
A less-filled-out and younger version of Shane stood with his arm around a petite dark-haired woman. Both smiled as if they’d just shared a joke. The photo depicted a more relaxed, less-in-charge, and definitely happier version of Shane.
“Your eyes. That’s where I see the resemblance the most.” I fingered the photo, touching the dog-eared edges. “The same caring look is reflected in both of you.”
“Nobody has ever used the word caring and me in the same sentence.”
“How about all those kids you help out? The ones you teach martial arts at the school, the ones you send to the diner so they can have a good meal, the ones you try to get jobs for when you find them lost and living at the shelter?”
“But that’s just…”
“If your mom were around, she would be so proud of the man you’ve become.” I drew him into a hug and hoped he believed my words.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The body contact felt so good, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. Maybe the fact that I didn’t feel so alone contributed to my near euphoria. Shane wasn’t physically up to par, not even close. But at least I wasn’t trying to negotiate our way through a maze of threats by myself. Left to my own devices much longer, I couldn’t begin to imagine what might happen.