by Debbie Mason
“Shaybae, Jasper asked you a question.”
She raised her arm. “Sorry, I must’ve been out of it. What was it that you asked, Jasper?”
“How long do we have before Costello is expecting you to turn yourself over?”
She frowned and sat up, a niggle of worry scratching at her mind when she caught Cherry’s and Libby’s expressions. They looked…relieved. Maybe even a little gleeful. “Why?”
Cherry pressed her hands together, prayer-like. “Because Jasper has a plan. We’re going to get Charlie and Benji out of there without anyone the wiser and without you risking your life. And if no one’s the wiser, that means Michael will never know you broke your promise to him.”
“Yes to all of the above but the last. I highly recommend you tell Master Michael the truth, miss. Over the years, I’ve learned it has a way of coming out. Speaking of which”—he reached in his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper—“as you will see, Madame tried to make amends.” He handed it to her.
She looked up after reading the paper. It seemed like maybe she owed Michael’s great-grandmother an apology and her thanks. She’d been trying to help. And as Shay knew, no matter how well intentioned, sometimes when you intervened, things went bad. “Thank you for this and for your offer to help, but I don’t want to put anyone else in danger. I do have a plan. I’m not going in there intending to sacrifice myself for Charlie.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But I’m afraid you’re outvoted. This is not just about you and Charlie anymore. This is about our town, my home, and my family. They tried to kill Master Michael, they came to the manor and put the people I love in harm’s way. I won’t let them get away with it.
* * *
They were dressed in black from head to toe with camouflage stripes on their faces. Cherry had added the stripes on the way to Pussy Cat East. It was a little hard to escape her when they were seat belted in.
“Benji left the delivery door open. It leads through the kitchen. As soon as I send him the coded text, he’ll make sure it’s empty. Once we’re in, he’ll text us to let us know the best way to reach Charlie. He says they’re moving him, but he was still in Cozack’s office ten minutes ago.”
They crouched in the woods behind the club. Pussy Cat East was closed because of the blizzard. At least that was the excuse they were using. There were two black vans in the lot, as well as a familiar Mercedes and Navigator. Shay handed Cherry and Libby the Tasers. Shay didn’t plan on letting them close to anyone or letting anyone close to them, but if things went south, she didn’t want them defenseless either.
“Be careful with those things; they’re not toys. And remember, the first thing you grab is their gun, then shove the gag in their mouth and zip tie their hands like we practiced,” she whispered, repeating the same instructions she’d given them at least five times before, only this time she didn’t demonstrate on their prone bodies.
Jasper’s head jerked up at the same time she heard the men’s voices. They were shooting the breeze while sharing a joint. Fifty more feet and they’d see them. They walked over to the Mercedes, checking out something on the vehicle. Shay glanced at Jasper. He nodded. Go time.
Jasper was as quiet and as fast as she was. As they approached, the moon peeked from behind a cloud, and one of the men caught their reflection in the glass. Shay rushed forward to give him a roundhouse kick to the head. He staggered but didn’t go down. A one-two punch to his face took care of that. She caught him before he hit the ground, lowering him carefully. As she gagged and zip tied him, she smiled at Jasper, who was doing the same to his man. “Nice ax kick.”
“Excellent roundhouse.”
From behind them came a guttural laugh. “Yeah, real nice Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan. Now stand up and come with— Ah-ah-ah.” His body spasmed as he fell to the ground.
Cherry and Libby stood over him arguing. “I said I was going to do it.”
“No, I did.”
“Weapon, gag, zip tie,” Shay reminded them.
“Then trunk,” Jasper added.
It took them ten minutes just to roll the men in the trunks of the Navigator and Mercedes, and then Shay and Jasper had to put two more men out of commission at the loading dock. Shay didn’t want to say anything to Libby, but she was worried that either Benji was a plant or he’d been uncovered. Her concerns were proven wrong when he met them in the empty kitchen. And then he proved what Shay had believed from the first night they met correct. Benji was in love with Libby.
“Libby, what are you doing here?” He rounded on Shay. “Why did you bring her? She’s a mother with two kids.”
“Yeah, two kids who were in that room when Costello’s men came to the manor. It’s not right, Benji. What they’re doing isn’t right,” Libby said.
“Look, Benji, I know you’re worried about her. But trust me, Libby can hold her own. Now we’re wasting time. Is Charlie still in Kozack’s office?”
“Yeah.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“What is it?” Afraid to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue.
“He’s alive, but Costello and two of his men are in there. They’ve been working him over. It’s not pretty.”
Three men. She could take three men no problem.
“Shay.” A hand on her arm stopped her forward motion. “Remember the plan. We go together. We draw them out one at a time,” Jasper said.
Benji stood out in the hall as they made their way to the dressing rooms. They didn’t run into anyone. Jasper ducked into the changing room closest to the back stairs and pushed over a mirror. As it crashed to the floor, they got in position. Overhead, they heard the sound of the office door opening, and then one of Costello’s men banged down the stairs. “What the hell?” he said upon entering the dressing room.
He noticed Shay just before she slammed a fist into his face. She sighed when he went down. She needed someone to put up a fight. The next man they drew out of the office went down just as easy.
But five minutes later when she kicked in the door of Kozack’s office, she got her wish. Benji had miscounted. Kozack, Costello, and two other men were in the office. One of the men had a gun to her uncle’s head. From behind her, a bullet whizzed past. The man who held the gun on Charlie let out a shocked cry and dropped to the floor, dead. Then—bang!—so was the other man who went to take his place. She hadn’t taken the shot, either one. She turned, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. From somewhere in the club, she heard yelling and a stampede of booted feet.
Costello swore. “Don’t even think about moving,” she said, holding her gun on him as she moved to her uncle’s side.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Kozack jerked as he crumpled to the ground, the gun in his hand going off. The bullet hit Costello, and he toppled over, bringing down a table with him.
FBI agents poured into the room, weapons drawn. “On the floor. Now.”
Shay looked around as she slowly lowered herself to the floor, relieved. Jasper was nowhere to be found. “They had nothing to do with it. He’s a bouncer, and they’re dancers. All they’re guilty of is trying to help my uncle. It’s all on me, no one else.”
* * *
Without looking at Shay, Michael nodded at his brother Connor and left the interrogation room at FBI headquarters. Connor pulled out the chair and sat beside her at the table. His brilliant white smile was more flash than reassurance. Though the warmth and compassion in his eyes made up for it.
Michael’s gaze had been condemning and Arctic cold. He’d looked right through her. She still felt the chill deep down in her bones. She wished there was something she could say that would make him understand. But she wasn’t sure she completely understood why she hadn’t been able to find another way herself. Why she’d destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to her.
She glanced at the mirror across from her, wondering if Michael stood behind it. She rubbed her nails, focusing on cleaning off specks of her uncle’s blood. She didn’t want
to hear what Michael’s brother and the two agents were saying about the charges. If she did, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hide her fear at the thought of being locked away again.
She swallowed the bile that burned her throat, blinking back the moisture gathering in her eyes to refocus on her hands. They were sweaty, yet she was shivering. The reaction struck her as odd. The room was hot, not cold. She wondered if they’d turned up the heat to purposely make her sweat. No, she was sweating because, no matter how much she tried to pretend she didn’t hear them, she did. Ten years to life? Had she heard that right? The room started to spin.
The glass on the opposite wall shuddered, and moments later, Michael strode into the room. He threw his badge on the table, pushed back his jacket, and withdrew his gun from the holster, laying it alongside his shield. “Let the record show I’m taking over as Ms. Angel’s attorney.”
“Are you kidding me? You got me to come down here at two in the morning to represent Shay, and now you’re firing me?”
“You were going to plead her out. She’s innocent. And the only deal we’re taking is one that clears her of all charges. A commendation for bravery for her role in saving my life and my partner’s might be nice too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The vibrations of the cell phone on the arm of the chair sounded overly loud in the quiet of her uncle’s hospital room at North Shore General. Shay didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was; she’d been expecting his call. Michael’s meeting with the FBI’s lawyers and his former boss took place that morning. His goal was to save her from going to trial.
She picked up the phone, a noticeable tremble in her fingers, and bowed her head. Taking a deep breath, she forced her lips to curve in the hope that’s what he’d hear in her voice, a hopeful smile and not fear. “How did it go?”
Hi. She should’ve opened with hi. Told him she missed him, told him how sorry she was that this was how they ended up. Begged him to let her make it up to him, to give her a second chance.
“Better than I’d hoped. It’s over, Shay. You’ve been cleared of all charges.” His smooth, deep voice was as sexy as ever, but it no longer felt like his strong, elegant fingers were reaching through the phone line to touch and caress her. There was an underlying coolness in his tone, a chilly politeness that said his walls were up and she didn’t stand a chance of getting through them.
Which might’ve been why she wasn’t cheering at the top of her lungs and dancing around the room at his life-altering news. “I don’t know what to say, Michael. Thank you doesn’t begin to cover what I owe you. I—”
He cleared his throat. “It’s the least I could do. You saved my life, and my partner’s. I’m sorry I couldn’t get them to budge on the commendation.”
“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is…” The you got stuck in her throat. He didn’t want to hear it, and she didn’t think she could take him telling her that today of all days. “…that you’re alive. I wish you’d let me pay you. Or take you out for—”
“It’s not necessary. I have to go. Take care of yourself, Shay.”
“Michael, I—” She stared at the buzzing phone. She hadn’t needed millions of dollars or influence and power after all. Michael had been her get-out-of-jail-free card. And he’d paid a steep price. One she could never repay, nor, as he’d just proven, would he let her try. She’d paid a price too. He’d obviously meant what he’d said the other night. They were done.
Sounding like he was in pain, her uncle grunted and batted at the covers. He’d been in and out of consciousness for the past few days. The doctors were hopeful he’d make a full recovery, though. Despite his age and his bad habits, the man had the constitution of a horse.
His eyelids fluttered open. “Shay,” he said, his voice gravelly and weak.
There was an alertness in his blue gaze that hadn’t been there for days. “It’s me, Uncle Charlie. You’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be fine.”
“Costello? Kozack?”
“They won’t hurt you or anyone else anymore. They’re in jail. Well, Costello will be once he’s released from the hospital. Kozack accidently shot him.”
“Ha! Good on the bastard.” He pushed himself up and grimaced.
“Here, let me help you.”
He waved her off. “I’ve got it. I’m not an invalid, you—” He gasped in pain as he reached back for a pillow.
“You’re a stubborn old man, you know that? You have to start letting people help you.” She huffed a silent laugh. She was one to talk. It was obvious who’d she’d picked up that particular trait from. Lucky for her, Jasper, Cherry, and Libby had been as stubborn as she was. And Michael…She gave her head a slight shake, pushing thoughts of him away. Charlie was going to be okay, and she’d be here to take care of him and not in jail. She had to focus on that.
Gently, she slid an arm behind her uncle’s back while sliding another pillow into place. “How did you get involved in all of it?” she asked as she eased him onto the pillows, carefully fluffing them.
“Danny’s uncle Sal. Tony introduced us years before Sal was put away. We used to play cards. When Danny started making a run on the bars in town, I went to see Sal. It was a you-scratch-my-back-I’ll-scratch-yours kind of deal. But then Costello had Tony killed. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. I knew Eddie and Freddie too. I tried to warn them, but I was too late.”
“How did Costello’s men finally catch you?”
“You were on their radar. I wanted to warn you. I came home. They must have been looking for you and caught me instead.”
“Next time, call me.”
“I tried. I got a new phone, forgot to transfer your number from the old one, and couldn’t remember it. I tried your place in Vegas and your office. I left messages.” He rubbed his eyes and tried to hide a yawn.
“We’ll talk some more later. Right now you need your rest. Do you want some water?”
He nodded. She held the cup for him. He took a few sips from the straw and then leaned back against the pillows, clearly exhausted. “What about the other two, the two that did this to me? They were going to shoot me, you know. Just before you got there.”
She put the cup down on the bed tray. “I didn’t think you knew I was there.”
He moved his hand. “I was in and out. Memories are a bit fuzzy. Know you didn’t shoot them, though. I saw a man, behind you. He was the one who shot them.”
The only man behind her had been Jasper. She hadn’t been a hundred percent certain it was him, but Charlie just confirmed what she’d suspected. So the older man wasn’t just proficient in martial arts; he was an expert marksman as well. The shots were too difficult and too accurate for him not to be. “I don’t know who it was, but I’m grateful to them.”
“Could’ve sworn it was Jasper.”
“From Greystone Manor?” she asked, playing stupid.
He grunted, his voice almost a snarl. “They owe us. The whole lot of them owe us. And not only for what they did to you all those years ago. They stole your sisters from us too. Surprised, are you? So was I. I found out just before the Costello thing blew up in my face. The old lady, Colleen, she called social services on us. But we can find your sisters now. I have their—”
She'd ignore his comment about her sisters. If he pushed, she’d pretend she couldn’t find them. He’d eventually give up. If he didn’t, she’d have no choice but to tell him the truth. She wouldn’t let him hear it from her sisters.
“Uncle Charlie, the Gallaghers don’t owe us anymore. They’ve more than paid their debt.” She wished she could confirm it was Jasper who’d saved his life—twice—but didn’t think that was her story to tell. Instead, she told her uncle that Colleen was the reason she’d been allowed to return to his care all those years ago, and how Michael’s cousins and older brother had taken shifts keeping an eye on the house and the pub, how Michael had given up his job to defend her and had saved her from going to prison again
.
“I’ve spent a good long while nursing my hatred of the Gallaghers. It won’t be easy letting it go. I knew Michael was a good one, though.”
“Uh-huh, that’s why you tried to shoot him the Christmas before last.”
“I was just having some fun. We worked things out; you know that. Where is he? I want to thank him for looking out for my girl.” He gave a gravelly laugh. “Guess you’re his girl now. That mean you’ll be sticking around?”
“I’ll always be your girl, Uncle Charlie.” She kissed his grizzled cheek. “Now rest. I have to check on…the pub.” She eliminated the Valentine’s Day setup from the sentence. She didn’t want to give him a coronary on top of his other injuries.
* * *
“Thanks for coming, Victoria. I appreciate you making a house call.” Michael held open the door to the cottage for the attractive blond veterinarian.
“Anytime. I’m just sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But trust me, in no time at all he’ll adjust to the loss of both his vision and hearing. So will you. I’ll send you some links to articles you might find helpful,” she offered, and then gave him a self-deprecating smile. “I guess I better go change for the auction. I don’t know who’d be more disappointed if I showed up looking like this, my mother or yours.”
He tried to hold back a grimace but must not have been successful at hiding his feelings because Victoria laughed. “Just keep reminding yourself it’s for a good cause. That’s what I do.” She gave his arm a commiserating pat. “Don’t worry. With both our mother’s financial backing, there’s no way anyone can afford to outbid me, so you’re safe. We’ll come back here, order Chinese, hang out with Atticus, and then we’ll call it a night. If you want, we can pretend we’re dating for a month to make them happy and then have a friendly breakup.”