Skydive

by Susan O’Brien

  Big Tim swung toward Wayne, and I used my feet to kick over a stool and tray stand. Kat and I screamed for help repeatedly while poor Buck barked and ran under the steps.

  Kenna pulled off an acrobatic feat, and the lights went out.

  Then other lights came on. Disco lights. Apparently Big Tim’s penchant for clubs extended to his personal bar scene.

  In the confusion and flashing colors, I saw Wayne duck and lunge at Big Tim, knocking him over and sending Big Tim’s gun flying.

  I kept screaming, and Kat pulled something shiny from her pocket and ran toward me. I closed my eyes and scrunched forward, not knowing what to anticipate, but then felt cold metal on my wrist followed by the final release of duct tape. My feet were next, and Kat turned to help Kenna as the men kept struggling.

  “I picked up scissors earlier, just in case,” Kat said breathlessly. “In the supply room. I’ve seen duct tape used too many times.”

  “Is there an exit back there?” I asked.

  “No, just a kitchen and a closet.”

  “Find the gun,” I said to Kenna and Kat, knowing that if we passed Wayne and Big Tim’s wrestling match and made it upstairs, we might encounter Bobby, who was armed with a taser and undoubtedly aware of our commotion.

  Then I realized that for the moment, and probably not for much longer, the guys were easy targets, and we were surrounded by weapons.

  It was Charlie’s Angels time, and I didn’t care if I was Kate. I shoved stools toward Kenna and Kat and grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall. Then I pointed to the jerks on the floor, and we attacked. After they were pummeled and sprayed from all sides, I grabbed Buck’s collar and we backed out, fire extinguisher billowing white, life-saving gunk everywhere, creating a disco effect I hoped I’d never see again.

  Now we just had to find Bobby.

  Twenty-Seven

  At the top of the steps, Kat opened the door and called out, “Bobby? Big Tim needs you.”

  Not even a lie.

  Her scissors were ready for attack, and the fire extinguisher was ready to blow again. Kenna was empty-handed, but I was pretty sure she was her own weapon. Years of teaching kickboxing were on her side.

  I held Buck’s collar with my left hand and kept my right index finger on the extinguisher’s trigger.

  When Bobby didn’t answer, Kat peeked out and reported back to us. “I don’t see anyone,” she said. “Now what?”

  “Do you know how to open the front door if it’s locked?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Kat said.

  “Good. Then let’s go that way. Now.”

  We dashed through a skinny hallway, past grooming stations and product displays, and finally through the glass front door, which was unlocked. On the sidewalk, we were greeted by a confusing scene.

  A convenience store clerk saw us and yelled to someone who looked like a SWAT team member, “There’s the dog! I told you!”

  The officer spoke into his radio, and we all held our hands in the air, just in case—fire extinguisher and scissors clattering to the ground, startling Buck, who stayed by Kat’s side. She must have been a familiar comfort.

  “Put your hands on your heads!” another officer ordered.

  “We were hostages in the barbershop basement,” I shouted, hands clasped over my matted hair. Kat hadn’t exactly been a hostage, but this was no time for details. “There are still two or three crooks in there, and one might have escaped.”

  Crooks? I sounded like I was on Scooby-Doo, but I couldn’t come up with a better word. At least I hadn’t said villains.

  I heard car doors slam, and Dean and Andy appeared in the convenience store parking lot. Behind them was an animal control truck, from which Joey emerged.

  “It’s them, Liam,” Dean called out.

  Liam? I knew that name. It was one of Dean’s friends on a King County special ops team.

  The officer spoke into his radio again, and heavily armed men and women in black, protective uniforms streamed out of a nearby van, swarming the shop.

  We were temporarily detained while our identities were confirmed, and then the questioning began.

  Extensive clarification was needed from everyone.

  For example, we explained why we looked like we’d survived an indoor blizzard.

  Dean explained that he hadn’t gotten my call, and that our location app was inexcusably glitchy. He’d found my van on Oak Vale, but it had been sketchy after that.

  Joey explained that eventually, Dean had called. They’d worked together to compare my location app with a GPS tag Joey had attached to Buck’s collar, and Dean had alerted authorities to our general location.

  The convenience store clerk explained that he’d seen me walk by earlier, and since Joey had sent out a “lost pet alert” to animal advocates who used a special app, the clerk had received a text with a photo of Buck.

  “I’m very observant of who’s around my store,” the clerk said. “I’d seen you and Buck walk by, so I reported it. I told the other stores’ employees too. I’m a pet owner, and I don’t want anyone to lose their dog or cat.”

  He’d been the “customer” Bobby had met, but he hadn’t heard us in the basement, and Bobby had rushed him out. Maybe his visit had spooked Bobby and sent him running. It had definitely provided a helpful distraction.

  Meanwhile, Dean had cashed in every favor he’d ever earned, and Brunelli and Liam had sent in the cavalry.

  Kat explained that after meeting Daddy B at the Beaker Motel (where Big Tim and Bobby had suggested she stay), he’d “treated her like a princess” and given her a “free” place to stay. She’d confided in him about her past, believing he was her knight in shining armor. She had no idea he’d been connected to Corey, and when she mentioned Corey, he didn’t admit their history at first, but rather used it against Kat. He’d beaten her and threatened to go after her foster family, Corey, and even Buck unless she paid her way. Then he promised that if she cooperated, she’d earn his respect and love—and clear Corey’s debts. No matter what she did, of course, he only got worse. And when he was arrested, Wayne took over.

  Kenna explained that she had no explanation for taking off, other than seeing the photo of Benny/Big Tim with Shawna and knowing he was guilty of something, plus being been drugged and suffering from a concussion. She’d gone to XXXTC—feeling ornery, independent, and especially outspoken—and interrogated Benny and Bobby until they subdued and abducted her. She, too, had been tasered, and the police said the “confetti” was actually tiny identification tags that showed where the taser had originated. It had been stolen from a police cruiser long ago.

  Not surprisingly, Andy explained that Kenna was going straight to the hospital.

  And I explained that unfortunately, he’d have to put up with me there. Because speaking of concussions, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had one.

  Before Kenna and I went anywhere, Kat confessed to everything she’d done. To law enforcement’s credit, they called in another special team—one that works with prostitutes who want to get off the streets. Kat agreed to get help and cooperate with police. Privately, she also gave us some critical information.

  “When Wayne drugged you, he used clean needles. I swear. He made me watch and told me if I wasn’t careful, I’d be next. I just thought you’d want to know.”

  We were grateful, and I wanted to take her word for it, but long-term medical follow-up would be equally reassuring, if not more.

  “One more thing,” Kat said. “When you see Corey, tell her why I stopped visiting.”

  “Why was that?” I asked.

  “I dated Jared for a while,” she said. “But only because if I didn’t, he said he’d turn me in for having a fake ID and get Corey in trouble too. Then I met Daddy B, and everything got out of control. I started blaming Corey for things. It’s not like I had a great example t
o follow. And then Daddy B got way more threatening than Jared. I didn’t know what to do, and I thought it was my fault. But I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you both. You tried to help me, and before today, I was too scared to do anything. Now that I’m with the police, it’s weird, but I actually feel free, like I just got out of jail.”

  “You’re definitely doing the right thing,” I said. “I’m thankful and so relieved.”

  “Me too,” Kenna said. “And it’s obvious how much Joey cares about you. He risked a lot for you.”

  Kat nodded.

  “I know. He just told me he loves me and that I’m like a sister to him. I have a lot to think about, a lot to apologize for, and a lot to be thankful for.”

  We all do, I thought.

  I asked Kat if I could give her a hug, and she welcomed it. Kenna leaned in and joined us.

  As we parted ways and Kenna and I got into an ambulance, I noticed another one pulling up. I sure hoped Big Tim and Wayne were headed to a different hospital.

  Dean and Andy met us at the ER, where Kenna was admitted for overnight observation. It was late, and she was dehydrated, exhausted, and worried about returning home with impaired judgment. Honestly, that was going to be a little hard for anyone to evaluate. I trusted Andy could handle it—and that no one would question his request for her to slowly resume a “quiet life” of parenting and pole dancing. Andy’s parents were at home with Sky, and Dean and I were available in case of emergency.

  I wanted to go home. I needed to see the kids, hug them, and have tangible proof that life would eventually return to “normal.” I hadn’t been officially diagnosed with a concussion, but I wasn’t out of the woods, so Dean would help to keep close tabs on my symptoms. He didn’t have a problem with keeping an eye on the kids either, and I was okay with it, at least temporarily.

  “Are you honestly saying you want to stick with PI work after today?” he asked.

  “Are you honestly saying you thought I’d quit?”

  “No. You’re not a quitter. And I knew that before today. You’re motivated by heart, not fear, right?”

  “Right.”

  That was the goal.

  Seeing my mom after being tasered, duct taped, held hostage, coated with fire extinguisher spray, and treated at the hospital was a surprising relief. I wanted to hide everything from her, but since that was impossible (how else do you explain snow-white hair?), I wanted a record-breaking hug. I also shed a few tears, which I tried to wipe away quickly to spare Dean an uncomfortable scene. He’d only spent time with Mom occasionally, and seeing me in “I want my mommy” mode couldn’t be appealing.

  Thankfully, she was in “I love my daughter” (vs. “I judge my daughter”) mode, and I was able to hold it together and explain my day without blubbering. Although I longed to hold the kids, it was best that they were asleep. Mom offered to stay, but I somewhat awkwardly assured her that she could go, since Dean would be there overnight. If he hadn’t been watching, she might have done a touchdown-type celebration dance. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh? How nice.” She wanted me to remarry so badly that any sign of commitment was welcome.

  Dean also received an extra-long embrace from her, which was sweet to see, although probably uncomfortable to get. I knew she was just thankful that someone was looking out for me in so many ways.

  We said goodnight, and I got in the shower while Dean called Brunelli.

  “What did he say?” I asked when I came downstairs in pajamas and slippers. I’d taken a few minutes to gaze at Jack and Sophie, dry my hair, apply light makeup, and stick a bandage on my taser probe wounds. And that delay was just fine with me.

  Despite how disgusted and enraged I was with Big Tim and Wayne, I was nervous about what injuries we’d caused. I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death or permanent disability. I also wanted them alive and held accountable. I felt the same way about Bobby and Shawna.

  “Good news,” Dean said. “Wayne and Big Tim are hospitalized in stable condition under police guard.”

  “Not where Kenna is, I hope.”

  “A different hospital.”

  “Phew. What about Bobby and Shawna?”

  “Bobby was found—get this—hiding in the car wash behind the barbershop. He was too afraid to stay inside with all that commotion, but too afraid to abandon Big Tim.”

  “Was he in a car?”

  “Yeah. He never left the rinse cycle. They found him right after we left.”

  “He could spend his life in there and never come out clean. What about Shawna?”

  “They got her. That’s a longer story, and it’s going to upset you.”

  “Why?”

  “When they searched Big Tim’s properties, they didn’t just find prostitutes, they found other victims.”

  “Not children.”

  “Yes. Young teens. Including the one you and Kenna got on video downtown. And some of the girls said Shawna helped lure them in. Apparently, she and Daddy B worked together sometimes, pretending to be a couple that wanted to help runaways.”

  “I wonder if that’s why Shawna got so jealous of Kat. Daddy B was paying a lot of attention to her.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Have they found Shawna?”

  “Yeah. She was at her apartment, which is also in a building owned by Big Tim.”

  “What about AJ? Did he really overdose?”

  “They’re looking into that. Andy says AJ was getting so out of control that Big Tim probably wanted him gone. They were both rich and criminal, but AJ was becoming a liability. He had a loose mouth when he was drunk or high, which was often. Obviously, Big Tim and Daddy B had plenty of access to drugs, and the police found some today.”

  “Ketamine?”

  “That and heroin. I’m not sure what else. Bottom line, tonight’s busts were huge, and Brunelli wants to thank you and Kenna.”

  “That’s nice,” I said flatly, unable to think of anything but the awful reality of everyone’s crimes.

  “Kat represented a lot of people, Nicki. It’s good you didn’t give up.”

  Dean reached out with open arms, and I settled into his warmth.

  “It’s good you didn’t give up,” I said. “What if you hadn’t called Joey?”

  “No what ifs,” he said. “Unless they’re about our future.”

  I could live with that.

  Twenty-Eight

  The next few days were a whirlwind. I was busy hugging the kids, meeting with Corey, touching base with Kat, checking on Kenna, apologizing to Andy, and having heart-to-hearts with Dean—all while contemplating Kenna’s memorable text: Any chance you’re abstaining to protect yourself from getting hurt?

  “There’s something I need to tell you, and I’m nervous about it,” Dean admitted over a late-night dessert after the kids were tucked in. I’d never seen him look so concerned, and I braced for whatever it was.

  “Okay. I’m ready,” I lied.

  “Remember how we talked about kids, and I said it wasn’t a deal breaker?”

  Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. I would do almost anything in the world for Dean, but I would not have his baby, and he’d been okay with that. I wasn’t capable of returning to a life of diapers and sleeplessness, even if we hired a live-in nanny. Especially if we hired a live-in nanny, in fact. I was in a different stage of life now, and I couldn’t give it up.

  I nodded numbly.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” he continued. “And I did some online research.”

  Online research? Had I made him wait so long for sex that he’d forgotten how babies were made?

  He took my hand and led me to a laptop in the living room.

  “Remember this website?” he asked.

  He pointed to the Child and Family Services video I’d shown him about forme
r foster kids, the one that had caught him emotionally off guard.

  “Yes.”

  “Now look at this.” He brought up a list of foster children awaiting adoption. “Recognize anyone?”

  “Is that Alexander?” I asked, peering at the screen. Alexander stared out at me, his infectious smile making me beam right back.

  “His whole profile is there,” Dean said.

  I took a moment to read it, and I was touched by the description of his cheerful personality and special medical needs.

  “Are you saying—”

  “I’m not saying anything specific. I’m just saying there are so many kids in need of homes, and a lot of them aren’t babies.”

  “That’s true.”

  Dean scooped me up and gave me an unexpected spin.

  “And I’m saying we should talk more about it.”

  He set me down on the sofa, and I closed my eyes, thinking.

  “I’m open to that,” I said as I opened my eyes, surprised to see him at my level, one knee on the floor.

  “Nicki, nothing on earth is a deal breaker for me. I want to be with you, Jack, and Sophie forever, no matter what. I want to parent together, and I want to be the kind of man all three of you deserve. Will you please, please marry me?”

  “You’re proposing to me?” I asked incredulously.

  “I am, but I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughed. “I mean, I was planning on it, but not for tonight. Your ring won’t arrive for another week.”

  “My ring?”

  “You’ll see. I’m sorry to ruin it. I guess I just couldn’t wait.” I felt dazed, and his kiss brought me back to reality. “So, what do you say?”

  My heart had never been so sure of anything except loving Jack and Sophie, and if emotions could soar, mine were in outer space.

  “Yes,” I said, kissing him back. “Yes! I don’t ever want to be without you. And speaking of waiting…”