Fast Money: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  “You have one more chance,” the gunman said. “You’d better make it count.”

  I typed in another one, but hesitated. What if this one was wrong too? I knew it had both letters and numbers. That’s when it came to me, and I deleted it and put in the one that had to be right. This time it would work. Still, I hesitated to push the enter button. Had I given Ramos enough time to come after me?

  A small creaking sound, like a door opening, came from behind us. The gunmen turned, raising their weapons. One of them hurried to the door and disappeared out of sight, while the other put his hand on my shoulder. “Keep working,” he said. It didn’t look like he was going to leave my side.

  Hope broke through my fear. Was Ramos here to rescue me? Another scuffling sound came, followed by silence. What was going on? The gunman swore under his breath, and put the gun next to my head. “I will kill her!” he yelled. His arm wavered, and he shouted something in Spanish.

  A whizzing sound cut him off, and he fell back against the table, blood oozing from a bullet wound between the eyes. As he slipped to the floor, the gun dropped harmlessly from his hand and I screamed, jerking back in my seat.

  I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat and took deep breaths. Ramos had saved me just in time. My eyes watered with relief, and I blinked the tears away. Footsteps approached, and I glanced up.

  Horror twisted my stomach, sending shards of fear through my veins. Instead of Ramos coming toward me, it was Mercer! Shock froze my breath and I couldn’t seem to move. How could this be?

  “Hello Shelby,” he said conversationally. “You look surprised to see me.” He smiled and lowered his gun. Holding it sideways, he began unscrewing the silencer with glove-clad fingers. It came off, and he put it in a space on his belt. Next, he slipped the gun into a holster. “It seems you have friends in high places.”

  With the gun put away, I found my voice. “You’re not going to kill me?” It came out kind of squeaky, and he chuckled.

  “Not today.”

  “Really?” I couldn’t seem to get my brain to think straight.

  “That’s right,” he answered. He stepped closer to me, pulling a cloth from his pocket, and I cringed away. His lips curled in response to my fear. “You might want to turn that off.” He nodded toward the computer.

  I focused on the screen, willing to do whatever he said. Since I’d never logged in, it was easy to exit the site and turn off the computer.

  “Good,” Mercer said. “Besides the computer, what else did you touch?” His dark eyes gleamed in the light, but his expression remained aloof and professional.

  “Um…just the desk in front of the computer and the chair.”

  He nodded, and briskly wiped down the computer, moving to the desk and chair. I stood to get out of his way.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  I glanced around and tried to avoid looking at the dead man sprawled on the ground. My gaze was drawn to him anyway and I shivered, knowing that it could have been me lying there with dead, sightless eyes.

  “No,” I said, pulling my gaze away with a determined swallow. “Except for my purse.” I picked it up from the floor and remembered my gun and stun flashlight. “The other guy…” I glanced at Mercer. “He took my gun and my flashlight out of my purse. I think he put them in his jacket.”

  “Your gun?” Mercer’s brows rose into his forehead. “Well, we’d better get it back. You may need it sometime.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face, and he smiled, thinking taunting me was more fun than it ought to be. Strangely, that thought helped settle me down. He was already walking out the door, and I hurried to catch up with him.

  The other guy was sprawled near the outer door, his head tilted at an unnatural angle. Mercer knelt beside him and quickly found my gun and flashlight. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice the flashlight was a stun gun too, in case I ever needed to use it on him, but no such luck.

  “Hmm…is this the one that carries one million volts of attack-stopping power?”

  “Yes,” I sniffed. Did everyone know?

  “Does it work pretty well?”

  “Yeah, pretty good. I used it on him yesterday, and it dropped him flat.” I nodded toward the dead guy and suppressed a shudder.

  “Nice,” Mercer said, and handed it to me. “Well, that just about does it.” He glanced at me sharply. “It would be best if we pretended that you’d never been here.”

  “Um…okay,” I said, understanding the threat.

  He checked his watch. “You are a little late to pick up your daughter, but if you leave right now you should still get there in time.”

  “Oh, right!” I hurried over to my car. “Wait. My keys.”

  “Are in the ignition,” he finished my sentence.

  I glanced at him. “Who sent you?”

  His smile came slowly. “You’d better get going.” He wasn’t going to answer me, so I searched his thoughts. He was thinking that I looked a little shell-shocked, and he hoped I could drive home without killing anyone.

  Flustered, I got in my car and poured all my concentration into driving. I pulled up to Savannah’s dance class, and she ran out with a smile on her face. Happy she’d done so well on a new dance she’d learned. Running on automatic, I asked her about her day and let her voice pour over me in a soothing cascade of normalcy.

  I got to my street, and a spurt of anger shot up my spine to find the FBI surveillance car parked across from my house. Where had they been earlier? How had the Mexicans taken their place? I turned into my driveway and pulled into the garage, wondering if they’d even known I was gone.

  Anger surged over me. I told Savannah to go inside and marched over to their car. I didn’t recognize either of the men inside, but that didn’t mean anything, since I’d never seen them in the first place. I waited while the driver rolled down his window.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said defiantly. “Where were you this afternoon? Because you weren’t here, so don’t lie to me.”

  The man squinted, put off by my anger. He glanced at the other agent before turning to me. “We got called away…but we’re back now. Is there a problem?” He was thinking that I had no idea how lucky I was for the protection they were giving me. No one ever said they would be watching my house around the clock, but they’d been there most of the day, even when there were a lot of cases more important than mine to spend time on. I should be grateful they were there at all.

  That last thought about did me in. I was ready to take the gun out of my purse and shoot the tire or something. Instead, I took a deep breath and let out a big sigh. “You know…you might as well leave,” I began. “Go and take care of those more important cases. I don’t need you anymore.”

  His thoughts clouded with confusion. How had I known he was thinking that? I must be a great reader if I could pick that up. It was an asset the FBI regarded highly.

  I shook my head and turned to leave. I did not want to have this conversation.

  “Wait,” he called. “What happened?”

  I wasn’t about to tell him. Not after Mercer’s veiled threat. Besides, I didn’t know if Ramos was involved in any of this, and I certainly didn’t want to mention Uncle Joey. “Nothing,” I said. “I guess I was just mad you weren’t here when I left to pick up my daughter.” It galled me to do it, but I decided I needed to make an attempt at being civil, otherwise, they’d know something wasn’t right. “Sorry I got mad. You can stay if you want.”

  He wasn’t sure he believed me, but sometimes when people were scared, they said stupid things, so he let it go.

  Grateful he’d accepted my explanation, I hurried back to my house. After closing the garage, I entered my kitchen and sagged against the counter. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Once they found out those guys were dead, would they question me? Of course, how did I know they’d even find them? Maybe Mercer was going to get rid of the bodies and no one would ever know.

&nb
sp; It was all starting to get to me. I ordered pizza for dinner and disappeared into the bathroom. Without consciously deciding it, I put in the plug and turned on the bathtub faucets full blast. Next, I dumped a ton of my favorite bubble bath into the filling tub. While it filled, I stripped and stepped into the hot water, drawing the scented air into my lungs with a deep breath.

  I settled back, sinking into soft steaming water. I held it together until something Mercer said came back to haunt me. My heart pounded with the realization that he knew it was my turn to pick up Savannah. He knew where she was.

  From there, it went downhill. I couldn’t keep the memory of the blood, bullet hole, and sightless eyes of the dead gunmen out of my mind. Knowing they were going to kill me only made it worse. The burning question remained. Who had hired Mercer? And where was Ramos?

  With that, I realized my phone was still in my car under the seat. I should probably get it, but for now, it was all I could do not to cry.

  Half an hour later, my fingers and toes were turning into prunes and the water was getting cold. I figured I could hide in the bathtub for a while longer, or pull myself together and take charge of my life. I had two things going for me. First, I wasn’t dead. And second, I had a husband and children who loved and needed me.

  It made me remember when I was a young wife and mother. I’d wondered how I could keep going when I felt overwhelmed by crying babies and little sleep. It was a twenty-four/seven job that gave me little time for myself. I had to focus on different things, like making it through the day without losing it when one of my kids had a major meltdown in the grocery store or some other public place.

  I learned to take things in stride, and to face unpleasantness that pushed me to the limit with fortitude and patience. It also made me realize that there was a lot I could deal with. I didn’t need to fall apart. I could find the strength to do what needed to be done.

  Now was one of those times. I needed to act with that strength. I got out of the tub and put on a fresh set of clothes. The t-shirt I’d worn had tiny blood splatters on it, so I bunched it up and took it outside to the garbage can. I noticed the surveillance car was gone and shrugged, not allowing myself to care. On the way through the garage, I opened the car door and found my phone. It was still working, but Ramos must have hung up since I had several missed calls from him.

  I hit re-dial and the call went straight to his voice-mail, so I quickly explained that I was safe and not to worry. I didn’t know what was going on between him, Jackie, and Uncle Joey, but I wanted to save that for when I could talk to him.

  The pizza arrived and I took it into the family room where Josh was playing a video game. I called to Savannah and persuaded them to watch a show with me while we ate. Josh wondered what was wrong with me, since this was out of the ordinary, but decided not to complain.

  I got out the first season of Castle, one of my favorite detective shows, and admired how Kate Beckett hardly flinched when she saw a murder victim. If she could handle it, even with all that blood, so could I. In less than an hour, the case was wrapped up and the bad guy caught. It gave me hope. The fact that it was only a TV show hardly bothered me at all.

  At least that’s what I told myself. Chris got home just as the show ended, surprised and confused to find us watching TV. He took in my haunted eyes and his brows drew together in a frown. His concern hit a nerve and my eyes filled up with tears. Chagrined, I hastily got up from the couch and offered him some pizza.

  “Looks good,” he said. “How about we go in the kitchen.” He could tell I was upset and wondered what had happened.

  As soon as I set the pizza down, I rushed into his arms. I knew it wasn’t fair to let him worry, but I needed a moment to feel his protective arms around me.

  “What happened?” he asked. “Where’s the surveillance car?”

  “Let’s go out on the deck,” I suggested. “I don’t want the kids to hear.”

  “Sure,” he agreed, and opened the patio door, pulling me behind him. We squeezed onto the faded couch, and I began my story, holding nothing back. By the time I was done, my hands were shaking, and my stomach was in knots.

  Chris paled and pushed his feelings of helplessness aside with a surge of raw anger. “What happened to the FBI? They were supposed to be guarding you.”

  “They were here when I got back.” I explained my little chat with them. “They must have taken me at my word and left.”

  “Or else they found the dead guys,” Chris added.

  “That’s a possibility,” I agreed.

  “The question remains. Who sent Mercer? Since he knew about that place, had he been following them? Or was he following you? Is that what Jackie meant when she told you not to worry about him? Because Manetto had hired him to take care of the Mexicans?” Chris pursed his lips, a sure sign that he was agitated, but trying to work things through. “What happened to Ramos? You said he called and that’s when you pulled over. Tell me what he said again.”

  “He just said that he had a plan and was coming over to get me. He seemed pretty upset that I’d left the house. That’s when the Mexicans shoved the gun in my face. I’m pretty sure Ramos heard what was going on. I thought he was the one who had come to save me.”

  “You called and left a message, but he hasn’t called you back, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” I said. “Something’s going on with Jackie, Ramos and Uncle Joey. I just don’t know what it is. Hopefully, Ramos will call me back, and we’ll know.”

  Chris nodded, but he was thinking that we shouldn’t count on Ramos for anything. He was loyal to Manetto first, and it was time I understood that.

  “Do you think we have to worry about Mercer anymore?” I asked.

  “I don’t think we have to worry that he’ll kill you…unless someone pays him to do it.” His words made me shiver. In response, he put his arm around me.

  “So what do we do now?” I asked.

  “I think the next step is to arrange a meeting with Manetto. This has gone on long enough. We need to get this settled and give him back his money.”

  “I think you’re right,” I agreed, relieved to do something. “I’ll call Uncle Joey tomorrow and set it up.”

  “Good,” Chris said. “And this time, I’m coming with you.”

  My heart swelled, and I smiled up at him. He gazed into my eyes, thinking that I’d nearly been killed again. It shook him up, and he wondered how I was holding up so well after witnessing such violence. Seeing a guy get shot in the head had to be horrific, let alone…

  “I’m trying not to think about that,” I said. “It would help if you didn’t either.”

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, instantly contrite. “I just can’t imagine how awful that was for you.”

  I sighed. “I’ll probably have nightmares. But I’m trying to put it out of my mind.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” he said. “I’ll try not to think about it either.”

  At that, my eyes filled up with tears. I was a total moron. Here he was, trying to understand how I felt, and I was chewing him out. How could I be so mean? I wasn’t supposed to be listening anyway. Where were those stupid shields?

  “Shelby? It’s okay,” Chris said. “I’m not mad that you read my mind.”

  “You should be,” I said. “I’m mad at myself. How could I be so insensitive? You’re being supportive and understanding, and here I am chewing you out for it.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I promise.” He turned so he was facing me and gazed into my eyes. “What matters to me is that you’re alive. That we’re here together. I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. Not your mind-reading. Not this mess. Nothing.”

  My tears quieted. “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Now…if you stopped cooking…I might have to think about it, but other than that…”

  “What?” I pushed against him and he caught me i
n his arms and soundly kissed me. My stomach unclenched and I relaxed in his arms. It was going to be all right. Somehow we’d get through this mess.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning I called Uncle Joey’s cell phone. A loud tone sounded with a recording that said the number had been disconnected. I sighed, remembering what Ramos had told me about Uncle Joey’s lost phone, but that was the only number I had. Now what?

  I was worried since I still hadn’t heard from Ramos, and decided to try him again. I wasn’t expecting him to answer, so when he did, it surprised me. “Ramos? This is Shelby,” I said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll live,” he answered. His voice was hardly more than a whisper.

  “What happened?”

  “Took a bullet,” he said. “I thought Salazar had you…guess I was wrong.”

  “Where are you?” My heart pounded with worry. “Are you in the hospital?”

  “No…home.”

  “In the apartment at Thrasher?”

  “No…other home. I’ll be fine. Heard you got away. That’s good. Don’t worry about Salazar.” He paused. “These pills make me sleepy. I’ll call you back…when I’m awake.” The line clicked, ending the call.

  Guilt swamped my senses, and I sagged into a chair overlooking the street. Poor Ramos. No wonder he never called me back. I felt sick. How bad was he hurt? Was he home alone? It sounded like no one was there to take care of him. Maybe I should find out where he lived and take him some soup or something.

  A familiar car pulled up to my house, and two men got out. I recognized the FBI agents from yesterday, and my stomach clenched. Had they found the dead Mexicans? Were they here to question me? What did they know? I started to panic before remembering that I could read their minds. That gave me a huge advantage. There was nothing to worry about.

  The doorbell rang, and I flinched. So much for my pep talk. Did I really have to open the door? I took a deep breath for courage and marched to the door. Might as well get it over with.

  “Mrs. Nichols,” the agent said. “Do you have a minute? We won’t take long, but we wanted to tell you what was going on.”