Fast Money: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

Home > Mystery > Fast Money: A Shelby Nichols Adventure > Page 12
Fast Money: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Page 12

by Colleen Helme


  The only thing that kept me from sinking into despair was the fact that Ramos had been watching out for me and could be somewhere close. If not, then at least Agent Bristow had been in my home when they came for me. He would know I’d been kidnapped, and could possibly be looking for me right now. Since they’d only darted him and not killed him, I had hope they wouldn’t kill me either.

  I held my breath at the sound of footsteps on gravel. They were coming to get me. The doors swung open, and the light coming in blinded me. I jerked my bound hands to cover my eyes, and a man spoke.

  “Ah, you are awake. Good. You will talk, and we will let you go. Si?”

  “What do you want?” It was still too bright to lower my arms. Maybe that was a good thing. If I couldn’t see what he looked like, maybe he would let me go. I listened to his thoughts. This might be my only chance to know what he wanted. The words were there, but I couldn’t understand them. Then I realized it was Spanish. If he was talking in English, why wasn’t he thinking in English? This was terrible!

  “We came because of your Uncle Joey. He told us all about you, and told us that you had our money. All we want is our money back, and you can go free.”

  He sounded sincere, but since I couldn’t understand his Spanish thoughts, I wasn’t sure I could believe him. I groaned, laying my head back against the floor. What should I do?

  “Senora? I need an answer. If you want to leave this van alive you will do what I say.”

  “Okay, okay. I can see about getting the money. But it’s not going to be easy. I put it in a mutual fund, so it’s not like I can just go to the bank and make a withdrawal. And there’s something else you need to know. Joey Manetto is not my uncle. So quit calling him that. I don’t even like the guy. He’s made my life a living hell, and I want nothing to do with him. Got it?” That last part came out in kind of a shriek. My captor jerked back as if astonished by my outburst.

  “You don’t care if he lives or dies?” he asked.

  “No,” I yelled. “This whole thing is all his fault. He sent me this money, and you know what? I didn’t want it. I’m supposed to keep it safe for him, and not tell anyone. Now why should I do that? I didn’t want his money. I wish he’d never sent it to me.”

  “Then why did you put it in a mutual fund?”

  I thought that was a pretty good question. And it calmed me down.

  “Because the interest rates were better. I figured he’d want his money back someday, and that was fine with me. But I was hoping to keep all the interest it had earned. I figured it was the least he could do for dumping it on me in the first place.”

  “Ah,” he nodded his head. “Yes, that makes sense now. So, you will get the money for us?”

  “Of course.” I was trying to sound reasonable. “Knowing Uncle Joey, I’m sure it was your money in the first place, and I don’t blame you for wanting it back. But it puts me in a bind. I mean, when he finds out, he’s not going to be happy with me.”

  He let out his breath, and rubbed his forehead. I could tell he was getting a little exasperated with me. “You want us to kill him for you? Is that it?”

  Shocked, I inhaled and choked on my spit. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath and my eyes watered, sending tears gliding down my cheeks. I swallowed, taking small breaths until it was easier, and then began to cough my head off. The gunmen were saying something in Spanish, and one of them started pounding me on my back. The other one shoved a bottle of water in my hands.

  I gratefully took a drink and then coughed some more. Finally, I could breathe again, and I wiped my mouth and nose on my sleeve, still catching my breath. Under control, I took another swig of water. “Thanks,” I said, my voice sounding like gravel. “Sorry about that. Do either of you have a tissue?” I sniffed, but my nose was running along with my eyes, and I couldn’t keep from coughing.

  One of them uttered what sounded like a swear word and opened the van’s jockey box. Luckily a box of tissues was inside, and he handed me the whole box. “Thanks,” I muttered. After blowing my nose, wiping my eyes, and clearing my throat a few times, I felt almost normal.

  I glanced at my captor and noticed the big frown on his face. Had I given Ramos enough time to find me? I’d better answer his question. “Um…no, don’t kill him for me. I mean, it might solve some of my problems, but I can’t ask you to do that. Thanks anyway, though.”

  “So, how do we get to the money? We need it today.”

  “Sure. I can talk to my bank and see if they can pull all the funds together, and write a cashier’s check. You want one million dollars, right?”

  His lips curved upward in a smile. He glanced at his companion and started to laugh. They were both chuckling as if sharing a funny joke. After a moment, their focus turned on me, and their laughter abruptly stopped. The one who had done most of the talking leaned closer, and looked me straight in the eyes. “That was a joke, right?” His eyes narrowed into little slits.

  I pulled back and swallowed. “Um…just how much did you want?”

  My question did nothing to alleviate the tightness around his eyes. “Five million dollars.” He said each word with a pause between them for emphasis.

  “Oh, okay,” I said. “I just wasn’t sure, you know, because Inspector Salazar told me it was one million.”

  If it were possible, his eyes narrowed even more. “Inspector Salazar talked to you? When?”

  He pulled back and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s see, it was a few days ago. Thursday or Friday, I think.” I honestly couldn’t remember.

  He glanced at the other guy and moved away from the van, speaking heatedly in Spanish. I was grateful for the reprieve and started undoing the knots around my wrists with my teeth. The bad guys seemed pretty flustered. Which led me to believe that maybe Inspector Salazar was a rival. Who knew, maybe he was on his way to kidnap me too? My stomach clenched. Could that be who Ramos was watching, and he really wasn’t onto these guys at all?

  No. I couldn’t let myself start thinking like that. Instead, I concentrated on untying the knots. I drew my legs up and maneuvered back against the same side of the van as the doors, noticing my purse for the first time. It was lying sideways and most of the contents had spilled out. My heart raced. There was my stun flashlight! I grabbed it, holding it firmly in my lap out of sight. With time to spare, I also found my wallet, and shoved in into the waistband of my jeans where it wouldn’t fall out.

  Just then, the arguing outside stopped. Footsteps approached, and I held my breath, checking to make sure my finger was on the right button. One of the men walked around to the driver’s side, and the other one stuck his head in to find me. I knew he was going to close the doors so I lunged for his throat and pushed the button.

  He gave a strangled gasp and slumped to the ground. I scooted out of the van, landing off-balance and skidding on the gravel. Righting myself, I started running. The other guy let out a string of Spanish and jumped out the driver’s door after me, but I had a head start.

  I took in my surroundings, realizing I was in a gravel parking lot filled with all kinds of junk. There was only one road leading in or out next to a small broken-down building. I focused on that, and tried not to think about the footsteps getting closer behind me.

  Just then, a car careened around the corner of the building, sliding into the parking lot and spinning in a half turn on the gravel. It came to a halt between my kidnapper and me. The man inside opened his door and started shooting at the kidnapper.

  “Get in!” Ramos yelled.

  I fumbled with the door handle, not willing to let go of my stun flashlight. The other guy raced back to his van, escaping the barrage of bullets, and jumped in. Ramos ducked back in the car, and pushed open my door. He roughly jerked me inside the car and stepped on the gas. Half-lying on the seat, I pulled my feet in, just as the door slammed shut.

  Out of breath and panting, I closed my eyes, relieved that I was safe. I felt the car skid around the corner and merge into tr
affic. When the car straightened, I pushed myself into a sitting position.

  “You okay?” Ramos asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, breathless. “You got there just in time.”

  He shook his head. “I would have been there sooner, but some goon in an SUV cut me off.” He glanced at me sharply. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?” I smiled shakily, and he continued. “He pulled into your driveway.”

  “Oh,” I said. “It’s the CIA.”

  He stilled for a fraction of a second, then shook his head again. Checking the rearview mirror he said, “Hold on.”

  Dropping my flashlight, I grabbed the handle above the door. Ramos deftly turned the corner and took a quick right down another street. In a bold move, he accelerated across two lanes of traffic and pulled into a parking garage. Taking the ramp that led upward, we were soon at the top of the structure. He pulled into a parking place a safe distance away from all other cars, and killed the engine.

  He glanced at my hands still clutching the handle. Chagrined, I let go. “Here, let me help you with that.” Pulling out a pocketknife, he cut through the coils of rope, and I rubbed my wrists.

  “Thanks,” I said, sending him a grateful smile. He dipped his head, and I turned away to look out the window, not wanting him to see my eyes get misty. I tamped down my emotions and cleared my throat. “I sure hope you can tell me what’s going on.”

  He was thinking that I was in one helluva mess, and it was all Manetto’s fault. Not that Manetto had planned it that way. Manetto had a soft spot for me. When it looked like he might not get back alive, he thought putting the money in my account would not only hide it, but also give me something nice to remember him by. As it turned out, it was a big mistake. Now how was he supposed to explain all that to me?

  “Why don’t you start with the money?” I prompted, quickly adding, “You do know about that, right?”

  He glanced at me with narrowed eyes. I was doing that weird thing again, almost like I was reading his mind. He shook it off. That was nuts. “The money is what we call ‘collateral damage control.’ Mr. Manetto thought he could hide it in your account, and no one would know he had it. But that’s getting ahead of the story. First of all, as you know, we went to Mexico after Kate and Hodges.”

  “Right,” I said with enthusiasm. “Did you find them?”

  He huffed. “No. They weren’t there. I don’t know why we thought they would be, especially since they knew we knew where they were going to disappear. Kate was smarter than that, and probably the one to change their plans.”

  “Oh.” I was confused. “Then where did the money come from?”

  “It’s kind of a long story,” he answered.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Ramos decided he might as well tell me everything. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. “A long time ago, Mr. Manetto had a relationship with a woman.”

  “Carlotta?” I jumped in.

  “Who told you about her?” he asked.

  “Um…” I knew he wouldn’t like it, but he had to know. “The CIA.”

  He swore a blue streak, but only in his mind. I cleared my throat and he got back under control. “So,” he said. “That’s what they were doing at your house. You’d better tell me the rest.”

  “They stopped by not too long after I got the money, asking if I’d heard anything from Uncle Joey. Of course, I didn’t tell them about the money. They thought Uncle Joey was working with an arms dealer in Mexico and wondered what he was up to.”

  The name Cisco came to Ramos’ mind. “How did they know about that?” He was basically asking himself, but I answered anyway.

  “They’re working with the same arms dealer.”

  “What for?” he asked

  “They’re trying to help the good guys take out the bad guys?” I shrugged. “I guess that’s what the CIA does.”

  “Go on,” he said, dismissing my reasoning.

  “They came by the other day asking me if I’d heard about Uncle Joey’s disappearance and if I knew anything. They said he was involved with a woman, Carlotta, and that she worked for the police, but they also wondered if she was working for a drug cartel. Maybe because she was being bribed or something? They said they had reason to believe that someone might contact me.”

  Ramos glanced at me sharply. “Did someone contact you?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “Police Inspector Salazar. First he asked me if I’d talked with Uncle Joey recently. I told him no, and the next day he called to tell me that Uncle Joey had been kidnapped, and was being held for ransom. Then he wanted to know if I’d pay the million-dollar ransom. I guess he thought he was my uncle. Probably my fault,” I conceded.

  “Anyways, I told him…” I hesitated, then decided Ramos would understand and continued. “That he wasn’t my uncle, and I wasn’t going to pay. Then I sort of hung up on him.” I raised my brows and widened my eyes, giving Ramos my best innocent look. “It sounded like a big scam to me.”

  Ramos’ lips twitched, holding back a smile. He knew it was hard to pull the wool over my eyes. That was what he liked about me. I seemed to ferret out the truth, no matter what it was. “So, you told this to the CIA?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted.

  “What else?”

  “Well…when the CIA said Uncle Joey had really disappeared, I got a little worried. So I went to lunch with Jackie to talk it over. She said she’d call you and find out what was going on. Did she?”

  “Nope,” he said. He narrowed his eyes. “Did you happen to mention Carlotta’s name to her?”

  “Yeah.” I remembered how hurt she’d seemed. “I don’t think she was very happy about it.”

  “Shit,” he said. Realizing he’d said it out loud, he quickly added, “Sorry.” I shrugged, and he continued. “No wonder she didn’t call me. I wonder what she’s up to.”

  “So, who’s Carlotta?” This woman seemed to be the key to everything.

  Ramos frowned. “She’s Manetto’s old flame, from a long time ago. She left him, and I don’t think he ever got over her. Since we were down there on a wild goose chase, Manetto thought we should make the most of it, and stop by for old time’s sake.

  “Anyway, she was pretty happy to see him, but mostly because she was in trouble. You see, she never approved of Manetto’s occupation, but now that it looked like it could actually help her, she was happy to use him.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “She was being bribed by the drug cartel.” At my wide eyes, he nodded. “Yup, the CIA got that much right. Since she works for the police, she had a lot of inside information that would help the cartel escape capture. She needed a way out and figured Manetto would help her.”

  “Why? Just for old time’s sake?”

  “Not exactly. They were holding her son hostage,” he paused, locking his gaze with mine. “As it turns out – the kid’s Manetto’s son too.”

  “Holy sh---,” I covered my mouth with surprise, but Ramos just laughed.

  “That pretty much sums it up,” he agreed.

  “What about Uncle Joey? Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine. He hired mercenaries and we went with them to get his son back, then for good measure took their money. He’s pretty ruthless when he wants to be, and the fact that they had his son wasn’t something he could forgive. The leader and most of that particular cartel are dead, but not all.

  “That’s where these guys who found you come in. They got to you because Manetto lost his phone in the confusion. Passwords, things like that were all on there. By the time we blocked the phone, they had already hacked his accounts and found your phone number and address along with the info about the money transfer made to you. I’m really sorry,” he said.

  “As soon as we figured it out, he sent me back to protect you. I got lucky and picked up their trail, but not before they got to you. I’m really sorry,” he repeated.

  “Hey, it’s all right. I’m okay. I got away.” He was stil
l beating himself up, so I changed the subject. “So…now what do we do?”

  “You don’t need to do anything,” he said. “It’s my job to take them out. After that, you’ll be fine.” Meaning they’d be dead and wouldn’t be bothering me anymore.

  “Oh.” I guess that would take care of it all right. “What about the CIA? Won’t they be looking for them too?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But I have a solution.”

  I clamped down tightly on my shields before I got a glimpse of what Ramos had planned. I really didn’t want to know. “Is Uncle Joey coming back?” Who knew? Since he took out most of the drug cartel, maybe he’d stay and run things.

  “Yes, but it’s complicated. Now that he has a son, he wants to bring him into the business, but Carlotta is…opposed. She’s not sure she’s ready to leave Mexico, but it’s unsafe there, so Manetto is trying to work it out so they can come here. If they can’t come here, he’s got to figure out a safe place for them elsewhere. So whatever happens, it’s going to take some time.”

  “So he might not be coming back here?” I asked, a little hopefully.

  “No, he’ll come back. I just don’t know if it will be with Carlotta and his son.”

  “How old is his son anyway?” Uncle Joey seemed too old to have a child.

  “He’s seventeen,” Ramos said.

  “Oh. That should make things easier.”

  “Yes,” Ramos agreed. “The problem is Carlotta. I think Manetto still loves her.” He glanced at me, realizing he’d said more than he wanted. “We’d better get you home.”

  “How are we going to do that? The CIA knows I was kidnapped. What am I going to tell them?”

  “You got away,” he shrugged. “Have you got your phone?”

 

‹ Prev