●CHAPTER 23●
I SLOWLY PULLED A RUGER LCP HANDGUN out of the armrest. My hand shook as I held it. I know nothing about guns (my astute observational skills allowed me to see the name was clearly etched on its side). Was the safety on? Where exactly was the safety? Was it loaded? I set it down gently in my lap and stared at it warily. On one hand, I didn’t want it anywhere near me. On the other hand, I had somewhat leveled the playing field with this in my arsenal. Even though I didn’t know how to use it properly or if it was even loaded, no one else knew that.
Darcy rustled around in her seat and burrowed farther under the blanket. I could wake her and see if she knew anything about handguns, but I decided to let her be. Right now, she was most likely dreaming of winning an Emmy and shooting to stardom, going from the morning news in Elkston, Colorado, straight to CNN. In her daily life, she’d normally be waking up shortly, getting ready for her early morning stint. Instead, men with guns had locked her in a drug lord’s mansion, atop a mountain, in the middle of nowhere, with me.
I sat, still as a statue, the gun heavy on my lap. What would we do now? I couldn’t just shoot my way out of here. We had to find Michael and Fritz before we could escape. But this property was enormous, and they could be anywhere. I had to somehow figure out a way to connect with them.
Amazingly, our armed guards hadn’t searched us, leaving us with our cell phones. Short of tapping Morse code on the walls and hoping they were in the next room, I’d have to resort to my phone that probably didn’t have coverage. I pulled it out hoping beyond hope that I’d be able to send a message to Michael. Maybe I’d get lucky and get reception just for one quick minute. I hastily typed in a text. D&I locked in Izzy’s house. Media room. Where r u? I hit Send and watched the line scroll across the screen before stopping midway. I dropped my head and sighed. No go. As a desperate measure, I held the phone up to my chin and stuck one arm up, hoping to act as my own antennae. I held that position for at least a minute. My hand started to go numb. Finally, I heard a light swooping noise, signaling the text had gone through. I almost whooped with joy. Settling back into my seat, I held my phone against my heart and whispered up a small prayer that somewhere, somehow, Michael and Fritz would see that text.
Unfortunately, fatigue and the ridiculously comfortable seat I was in lulled me into a deep sleep. I’m not sure how long I slept, but I began to have an intensely real dream in which Fritz was a giant, his white bearded face larger than life staring down at me. His voice came out only as a whisper though, and I laughed at the dichotomy of the situation.
“Emily, wake up,” he squeaked. I giggled to myself as his giant head hovered in the air above me. “Good God, have you gotten into the hooch too?” He tilted one side of his face toward me, giving me the stink eye. I sighed and snuggled deeper into my Barcalounger.
Suddenly, Michael’s face appeared in the dream as well, his giant-sized arm swung around Fritz’s shoulder. “Babe,” Michael said, “see this guy right here?” His voice sounded odd, different somehow. He looked at Fritz, tears brimming at his eyelids. “This guy’s my best friend.” Michael wiped at his eyes. “I love you, man!”
This dream was funny. Michael would never say that in real life. I sleepily laughed to myself.
Fritz rolled his eyes and gently removed Michael’s arm from around his shoulders.
“Emily, wake up, dammit! Your husband’s higher than a kite and we need to get the hell outta here!” I shifted around, so comfy in my warm leather chair. I struggled to open my eyes, but I was paralyzed in the state between sleep and wakefulness. I knew it was all a dream and attempted to put the two of them out of my mind and slip even deeper into blissful sleep.
“Emily.” An old, but familiar, voice entered the dream. Memories flooded my brain, my heart swelled, and I began to silently cry. My dad! That was my dad’s voice! “Emily, this isn’t a dream, honey. Baby, I love you and you need to wake up.” I began sobbing now, as always happens when I dream of my parents.
“Emily,” my dad said again. “Izzy’s coming. You guys need to get out of here.”
Izzy? Izzy? Who was Izzy? I sniffled as I tossed and turned, my mind stuck half asleep, half awake. Izzy…Izzy…drug lord…FBI…my dad…gun in my lap... Gun in my lap! I jerked awake and immediately sat up, my hand clamping down on the Ruger as it began to slide off my lap. My heart pounded as I grabbed the gun before it hit the floor. Omigod. If it had fallen, would it have fired a shot? My hands trembled and I blinked my eyes, remembering where we were. Darcy still snoozed quietly in her lounger nearby. What a crazy, crazy dream. I shook my head and breathed deeply, now fully awake.
Someone urgently whispered my name and my head shot up. Where was that coming from? Who was talking to me?
And then I saw them.
My dad and Fritz stared at me from the movie screen at the front of the room. My dad and Fritz? I shook my head and blinked again, unwilling to believe that I was really seeing him. I hastily wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Hey kid, thanks for joining us. I knew you’d come to our rescue.” Fritz laughed, his head larger than life on the screen. “Guess what?” he said, looking at me expectantly. “I found your dad.”
I choked back a sob and ran toward the screen, as if I could reach out and touch him. He was here! He was here? They had to be here somewhere, right? But how were they appearing on this movie screen? I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t still asleep.
“Hi, baby,” my dad said, his face twisted in emotion. He reached out to me. “I can explain everything. I promise.”
I struggled to hold back the flow of tears pricking my eyelids. My emotions battled in my head. Joy, anger, confusion, relief. But my heart won out and the elation at seeing him alive showed on my face. He sighed in relief, putting a hand to his heart.
Michael came onscreen and attempted to nudge Fritz aside. “I love you, babe,” he said, making sloppy kissy faces. Then he got a huge goofy smile on his face. “See?” he said in amazement. “I met your dad!” He pounded my dad on the back, sending him lurching forward.
I gave Michael a thumbs up, still unable to speak, and shot a questioning look at Fritz.
“Five second run-down,” Fritz said quickly. “I might’ve found some hooch in this room we’re locked in and taken a few hits before leaving it to smolder right by your husband’s head as he was napping.” He gave me an embarrassed look. “Sorry. I did it purely for medicinal purposes.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You know, the sciatica?” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully as he continued. “Anyway, I didn’t know Michael was so sensitive to the ganja.”
Omigod, my husband was high. My jaw dropped and Michael giggled.
“But that aside, I’m going to get right down to it.” His face turned serious, and my dad turned Michael around and walked him out of sight. “We got your text. We’re locked in some room in this place, same as you. Your dad was able to hack into their wireless video intercom system, which is how we’re talking to you.” He gulped. “Hopefully we’re only talking to you.” He looked around the room. “I figure if no one has busted in here by now, you’re the only room that can see us.”
By this time, Darcy had begun to stir, sitting up and stretching out before stopping suddenly once she saw what was onscreen. I motioned at her to keep quiet, and we both listened intently.
“We’re in some game room or something. Morons locked us in here with pool cues and darts and everything.” He looked around again before pausing. “Not that they would do us much good as weapons with your husband in the condition he’s in.” I heard Michael singing Bon Jovi in the background. Fritz rolled his eyes. “Are you and Darcy okay?” I nodded and slowly lifted the Ruger. “Whoa, Nelly!” Fritz exclaimed. “Where the hell did you get that?” Darcy gave me a worried look.
“It was in the console,” I said, finally finding my voice. I nodded toward the lounger. Darcy hastily opened the console by her chair and rifled through it, coming up with only candy wrappers a
nd used napkins. She frowned.
“Is it loaded?” Fritz asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea. How do I even check that?” I flipped the gun over in my hands.
“Careful. There’s no safety on that thing.”
I almost dropped the gun right there and then. No safety? Seriously? I’d slept with that thing in my lap!
Fritz carefully walked me through how to tell if the gun was loaded and check how many bullets were left in the magazine. My hands shook and I felt nauseous as I followed his instructions, but he assured me the trigger wasn’t sensitive. Most likely I wouldn’t accidentally shoot my foot off. Most likely. That was reassuring.
“Whoa, babe! You got a gun?” Michael nudged his way back on screen. “Sexy!” He wiggled his eyebrows and my dad’s hand appeared on his shoulder, dragging him out of view. Great impression my new hubby was making on my drug dealer/FBI double agent dad. I shook my head, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all.
“Okay, you should be good to go,” Fritz said once he was finished going through How to Handle a Handgun 101. “Just tuck it in your waistband and use only when necessary.” I did as instructed, pulling my baggy sweatshirt over it to hide the protrusion, and whispering up a prayer that he was right about the trigger.
“So, I assume you’ve met Marco and Diego?” Fritz asked.
“We didn’t really have time for introductions,” Darcy piped up, yawning. “Those two goons herded us inside with their giant semiautomatics and deposited us here.” She glanced around the room. “Think there’s any popcorn over there?” she asked me, nodding in the direction of the popcorn maker. “I’m starving.”
I fished out a protein bar and tossed it to her.
“We came out here in search of you guys,” I explained to Fritz. “Two guys found us outside and apparently weren’t too happy with our presence. They forced us in here. I know Marco is the older one. Who’s the kid? I assume they work for Izzy?”
“I’m pretty sure his name’s Diego. But watch out for him. He’s trouble.” He rubbed his jaw carefully. Had Diego hit him? “I was able to pick up on a little of what they were saying, and Marco—”
“Polo!” Michael sang out in the background.
Fritz cursed, shook his head, and glared at Michael. “How the hell do you put up with this guy?”
“Well, he’s not usually high,” I said sardonically. My poor husband, the rule follower. He might never forgive Fritz for this one.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Fritz continued, “Marco said something about el jefe coming in to talk to us later. You know, the boss. That’s got to be Izzy.”
My dad edged his way back onscreen. “You should never have come here, Emily. You’ve got to get out of here before Izzy gets back.” His eyes widened in concern, and he ran his hand down his face.
“I can’t believe I’m talking to you, Dad.” His face fell and he looked ashamed. I closed my eyes and started over. After all, his explanations could wait. We had more pressing issues to address. “We all need to get out of here,” I agreed. “How—”
“No. I’m staying,” he said with determination. “I’m staying, but you need to go. You’ve got to trust me on this.”
Trust him? He’d lied to me for my entire life, let me believe he was dead, and now he was telling me to trust him?
I shook it off and spoke up. “If we’re going anywhere, you’re coming with us.” Anger and frustration began to wriggle their way into my body, and I could feel my face getting red. We didn’t all drive up here, risking our lives in the middle of a snowstorm to go back empty-handed. After all, the end game was finding my dad. Now we’d found him, and I was not leaving without him. Besides, why the hell would he want to stay? Wait. Was he hoping to finalize another “business transaction”? The thought of it made my blood boil.
“You trying to score another drug deal, Dad?” I hissed, unable to hold back any longer. “Can’t leave that part of your deceitful past behind you?”
“Oh boy, Emily’s pissed,” I heard Michael whisper loudly off-screen.
“Haven’t you caused enough trouble and heartache?” I felt my face flush with anger, and the words continued to spill out of me. “You lied to me and mom for all those years.” My dad’s face turned to stone. “I know everything, Dad. Everything.” Well, really not everything. I hadn’t finished reading the entire FBI file before the laptop was stolen. But I’d read enough.
“Emily, I can—”
“Yeah, you’d better explain. You’d better explain how you can live with yourself after what you’ve done. Are you a double agent, Dad? Have you turned against your own family and your country to be on a Mexican drug lord’s payroll? And for what?” I raised my hands in helpless confusion. “Fame and fortune?” I sighed, shaking my head. “Did you fake your own death?” I stared him in the eyes, willing him to come clean. Instead, I was met with silence.
“And what about Mom?” His stony veneer cracked, and I could see his eyes well up as he dropped his gaze to the floor.
“Your mother is dead, Emily,” he said quietly, in defeat. “She died in the accident. That is the truth.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, squeezing hard as sobs escaped me. I’d known this for almost two years, but finding out my dad was still alive had given me a glimmer of hope.
“And that’s why I can’t leave here,” he continued. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. His jaw was set and his eyes darkened. “This family put a hit on me and your mom. She died, and I barely escaped with my life.” I sniffed and wiped the tears from my eyes. Darcy walked up and put her arm around me, squeezing my shoulder in support. My dad looked me straight in the eyes, all emotion disappearing, and his face again turning to stone. “And I’m not leaving this place until Izzy is dead.”
●CHAPTER 24●
“LISTEN,” FRITZ INTERRUPTED, “the goons don’t know George is here.” I furrowed my brows in confusion. “It’s a long and complicated story.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, my crossing my arms. “And why don’t you go ahead and explain how you two came to be here?”
Fritz looked at my dad and sighed heavily. “Michael and I may have parked the SUV down the mountain and hiked up here to snoop around. We may have invited ourselves inside and gotten caught.”
“May have?”
“Well, what the hell else were we supposed to do? That thing is bright neon green! You can see it for miles!”
“What happened to the plan? Driving around, pretending you were looking at real estate?”
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I never thought much of that plan. I only came up with the idea so you’d stop worrying.”
My jaw clenched. “So, instead, your brilliant idea was to snoop around and get busted.”
“It got us inside, didn’t it?”
“Knocking might have resulted in the same thing.”
“Yeah, well—”
“Forget about that,” my dad interrupted. “It doesn’t matter how they got here. What matters is that you get out before Izzy gets here. You are not safe here. None of us are.”
“Well, just exactly how do we get out of here?” I leveled my gaze at him. “And how are you locked up with Michael and Fritz without anyone else knowing you’re here?”
“I’ve been around this area for a couple of days, ever since the explosion, waiting for Izzy to show,” he grumbled. Darcy elbowed me in the ribs and I growled under my breath at her in return. “I hid out in the stables with the horses, broke into the basement of the house, snuck around to steal food. It hadn’t been too hard until these two showed up today.” He jerked his head toward Michael and Fritz.
“And how did you come to be in the same room with them if you’ve been sneaking around the property unnoticed?”
Fritz gave my dad a wry look.
“Well, um, that’s an interesting story,” my dad said, looking down.
Michael stumbled into the backgro
und and suddenly looked up. “Oh yeah!” he said. “This dude tried to kill me earlier!” My eyes opened wide. “Man,” Michael said, shaking his head and sounding forlorn, “and he’s my father-in-law!”
I heard Fritz shushing Michael and telling him to sit down and rest.
“You tried to kill my husband?” I hissed. Seriously? Could this get any worse?
“Well, to be fair, I didn’t recognize him,” my dad said sheepishly. “I was hiding out in this room when the goons brought them in. I didn’t know who they were at first, but I knew I had to get the heck out without being noticed. So, when he sat on the couch, I snuck up and put him in a sleeper choke hold—”
“A sleeper choke hold? So, wait a second. He wasn’t ‘napping’ earlier, was he? He was unconscious!”
My dad shrugged his shoulders.
“And where were you while my husband was in a choke hold?” I directed at Fritz.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “upon being forced into this room, I may have begun searching it. I may have come across a nice stash of MaryJane and perhaps was looking for a light at the time your dad, uh, did that.” He held his hands up and shook his head, like he just couldn’t help it.
The Naked Truth Page 15