Just then, Dimples got a phone call. While he was talking, Chris was thinking that I had truly lost my mind, and he wasn’t about to go along with any of it.
“They just pulled over a black Honda for speeding through a stop light,” Dimples announced. “The driver matches the description. I think it’s our man.” He left, assuring us he would call as soon as he knew anything.
“I hope that’s really him,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be great? Then we wouldn’t have to worry anymore.” Chris was still mad that I was willing to put my life in danger. How could I do that to him and the kids?
“You know, it’s not my fault that my life is in danger, but sitting around doing nothing wouldn’t solve that. It would just make me crazy. What if they never caught him? How long would I have to put my life on hold? That would be worse.”
Now Chris was mad that I’d heard his thoughts. “I thought you weren’t going to do that.”
I almost denied it, but that would just turn into a big argument. So now what was I supposed to do? “It’s silly to argue over this, especially if they’ve caught him. Let’s call a truce, and give Dimples some time to do his job. I’ll put my shields up so you don’t have to worry about what you’re thinking. All right?”
Chris took a deep breath and tried to curb his anger. “Fine,” he said, and walked over to sit behind his desk. He picked up some papers, and started going over them, still angry, but trying to get over it.
A few minutes passed, and he acted as if I weren’t there. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that. “It would help if you gave me something to do.”
He knew he was being a jerk, but it was hard when he was so mad. “I suppose you could key the notes from my interview with Mr. Hodges into my computer for me.”
“Was he the guy that was waiting for you earlier?”
“Yes.” Chris’ stomach growled. He’d missed lunch, and it was all my fault.
“Okay. Give me your laptop, and I’ll do it while you go get something to eat.” Uh-oh, I did it again.
I thought you said your shields were working?
I acted like I didn’t hear that. “Since you’re leaving, I’ll just sit at your desk.” He opened a file, and showed me the interview, then moved toward the door.
“Don’t go anywhere until I get back,” he ordered.
“Okay,” I said, trying to look agreeable.
After he left, I took a deep breath, and settled back into his nice, comfortable chair. I hated to admit that I was grateful he was gone, but I needed some time alone so I could re-group. My knee and arm hurt from my fall, and my pants were torn. I lifted the torn material away from my knee and saw blood. It didn’t look too bad, so I left it to clean later, and started sifting through his notes.
As I read through them, I realized something didn’t add up with Chris’ interviews. Mr. Hodges owned a jewelry store that had been broken into. The kids caught on the surveillance tape denied breaking in. They admitted to looking around his shop, but that’s all. The search for the jewelry in the kids’ homes and personal effects had been fruitless. Mr. Hodges identified them as the robbers, saying he had scared them off that night when he came back to check on something, and the surveillance camera backed him up.
I accessed the video on Chris’ computer and realized that the video only showed them entering his store before everything went black. What was really suspicious was that they hadn’t even tried to disguise their faces. None of the jewelry had been found in pawnshops or anywhere else for that matter. I tried to remember what Mr. Hodges had been thinking when I heard him earlier. He was worried that the video feed would be convincing. He was also excited about the huge amount of insurance money he would get.
Could this be a set-up? The only way I’d know for sure would be to listen to both Mr. Hodges and the kids, but I could do that. This was exciting. I could actually use my new ability for something useful. It would help Chris, and he would be grateful enough that maybe he wouldn’t mind so much that I could read his mind.
I finished up, and was feeling pretty smug when Chris returned. He listened to my explanations easily enough, but wasn’t very happy about my conclusions.
“I’ll have to think about it before I involve you. What you’ve given me is enough to go on for now, but it will be difficult since my client is Mr. Hodges. I’m working for him you know.”
“Oh, I see what you mean.”
“This is also Kate’s case. I’m just helping her with it.”
I didn’t like hearing that. “Yes, but if he’s the one who stole the jewels from his own store, he should be caught.”
“I agree, but we have to be careful how we handle this.” He was thinking about client-attorney privilege and all that.
“Right. Well, I still think I should listen to him. It couldn’t hurt.”
“Let me think about it.” He really didn’t want me involved, and it bothered me that maybe there was something going on that he didn’t want me to know about.
“Are you listening to my thoughts again?” he asked.
I mentally jerked away. “Uh…well, a little. Sorry.”
“A little?”
“I know, sorry.” I concentrated on putting up my mental shields when the phone rang.
Chris answered, and I could hear Dimples on the other end. He ended the call and turned to me. “They got him. He wants you to come down to the station to identify him.”
“Does he think it’s him?”
“He sounded pretty positive, but he didn’t say for sure. I’m going to walk you to the van, but I’ll probably stay here. I’d like to go with you, but I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and I think you’ll be okay without me. If it’s not him, though, I want to know. I want to be included in where we go from here with the police.” He still wasn’t sold on the idea that I should act as bait.
“Sure, that’s okay. I just hope it’s him.” All the way to the car, I kept my shields up, but it was hard, especially since Chris didn’t say much, and I wanted to know what he was thinking. We talked about the kids for a minute, but when the elevator doors opened into the garage, I automatically moved behind Chris. Unreasonably nervous, I held onto his arm. He helped me into the van, then leaned over and kissed me.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, sensing my anxiety. “Call me as soon as you know anything.”
He watched me drive off, and the tension began to fade. So far, so good. No deranged killers aiming guns at me, or trying to run me over. I sighed. What the heck was I so worried about anyway? The killer was in custody, right?
As I turned onto the street, I began to relax. The police station was only a few blocks away, and soon this horrible chapter in my life would be over. I checked the rearview mirror, and did a double-take. There he was. The man I’d seen while jogging this morning, and again from the window of Chris’ office. My spine tingled, and I shivered with apprehension. Three times in one day? This couldn’t be a coincidence.
I was so intent on watching the man behind me, that I didn’t see the car zooming through traffic until it was coming at me. I yelped when the driver turned the wheel, and smashed into the front end of my car. The impact sent both our cars flying off the side of the road, and into the parking meters.
The grinding crunch, and shattering glass was still ringing in my ears when I glanced out of my broken window. I stared in confused horror when the killer, who was supposed to be in jail, jumped out of his car and aimed his gun in my direction. As he fired the first shot, I quickly ducked, and scrambled to get out of my seatbelt. I frantically pushed at the button until it unlocked, and I dove toward the passenger side door. With strength born of desperation, I manhandled it open and crawled out.
Gunfire erupted, and I fell to the pavement on my hands and knees, trying to keep low. I heard the crunch of glass, and knew he was coming around the van to finish me off. Terrified, I lurched to my feet, and took off running.
I dodged around the building for cover, and ran as fa
st as I could down a secluded driveway. I heard his footsteps pounding on the pavement right behind me and willed my legs to move faster, but he was gaining. When his arms closed around me, I screamed in terror.
We tumbled to the ground, and I twisted to get away, but he pinned me tightly with his body. He loomed over me, and his face was frozen in a mask of rage. As he brought the gun to my head, I knew it was all over. Suddenly, a loud crack boomed and he jerked. A rapid stream of blood gushed from his neck. The gun slipped from his weakened fingers. With a look of surprise, he toppled over.
I couldn’t breathe. What had just happened? Was he dead? Who killed him? Was I next? The man who’d been following me all day came to my side. He pushed the killer away from me with his foot, and holstered his gun. I finally got some air into my lungs, and tried not to get hysterical. My rescuer pulled me to my feet, and with his arm around me, walked me away from the dead body.
I was shaking so badly that I didn’t notice the direction we were headed. When I finally realized he was taking me into the parking garage, instead of back to the street, I started to protest, but he clamped his hold firmly, and in a no-nonsense voice told me to keep walking.
As he pushed me into the driver’s side of an unlocked car, I heard sirens in the distance. All of a sudden, my dazed brain started to function, and I tried to get out. Before I knew how he did it, my wrists were in handcuffs, and shackled to the passenger door.
I found my voice. “What are you doing?” When he didn’t answer, I tried again. “Who are you?”
“Let’s just say I’m a friend of a friend.”
“You just killed that man. Why did you do that?”
He was thinking that he’d just saved my life, so what did it matter. Then he smiled politely and explained. “Just doing my job.”
My heart clenched with paralyzing fear, and I nearly wet my pants. “Your job? You mean like…like…” I couldn’t finish.
“A hired gun? Yes, you could say that.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. “Although I use the term loosely. You see Shorty back there was getting out of control, and my boss was afraid he’d spill his guts if he ever got caught. I knew the only way I’d find him was to keep an eye on you, and look what happened. It paid off.” He smiled like he’d just won the lottery. “Under normal circumstances, I would have disappeared, but it seems my boss has taken a sudden interest in you.”
“Me?” I squeaked. “Why? I didn’t do anything.”
“Babe, I just follow orders, but don’t worry too much. He’s not an unreasonable person.” He was thinking that I’d be lucky to get out of this alive.
“Who’s your boss?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. I’m taking you to meet him right now.” Then he started singing a country-western song in his mind, something about escaping the devil on the long road to hell, and I quickly put up my mental shields.
I sat there in a daze. I had just escaped death, but what was going to happen now? I tried not to panic, but my stomach started twisting. I jerked on the handcuffs, but that was an exercise in futility. Fear was making my stomach roil, and since I didn’t want to throw up, I decided to accentuate the positive. I was still alive, that was good. And there had to be a chance I could survive. A hired gun wouldn’t save me, just to kill me, right?
I glanced at him, trying to ascertain if he was the type that could kill a helpless woman in cold blood. There was a scar over his right eyebrow and his chiseled features seemed carved from stone. His size alone was intimidating, and I cringed at the realization that there was nothing soft about this guy.
We drove across town, and soon pulled in front of a large estate. The security guard opened the gate and waved us through. We drove about half a mile to the huge mansion sitting on top of a small hill. An armed guard dressed in black hurried from the house. He opened my door, and I nearly tumbled onto the pavement. The hired gunman threw him the keys, and he unlocked my cuffs. I could have bolted, but I didn’t feel like being tackled again. Instead, I squared my shoulders, and walked with all the dignity I could muster toward the house. I kept my shields up, not wanting to know my fate. I had already faced death once, how much worse could it get?
The large foyer opened into a beautiful room decorated with antique furniture and huge oil paintings. Flower arrangements dotted the mahogany tables, and Persian rugs covered the beautiful hardwood floor.
All this opulence rolled over me as I was herded down the hall. We stopped in front of a door, and were soon admitted into a smaller, but no less elegantly appointed study. At once, the man sitting behind the desk rose to greet us with an interested smile. He was tall and well built, dressed in a dark, expensive business suit and gray shirt. He looked to be in his mid-to-late sixties, and had a beautiful mane of silver hair that contrasted starkly with his black bushy eyebrows.
“Ah,” he said, and came toward me. “You must be Shelby.”
How did he know that? I dropped my shields and got a shocking revelation. “You’re Uncle Joey?!”
He laughed indulgently, but really hated me calling him that, and I knew I’d made a huge mistake. “I’m gonna die,” I mumbled.
The hired gunman mentally agreed with me, and it suddenly made me mad. Since I couldn’t tell him to shut up, I sent him a killer look. You know, the kind I reserve for when my kids are misbehaving. It must have had an effect, because he was struggling not to feel guilty, and he hadn’t felt that way in years.
“Please Shelby, sit down. Ramos, why don’t you pour Shelby a glass of water? I’m sure she’s thirsty after her ordeal.” He thought the garbage in my hair added a certain charm to my torn pants, and dirty sweater. I smoothed out my hair, and was delighted when a glob of gunk fell onto his floor.
He glanced sharply at my smug face, and I wondered if I had just made another mistake. I sat up straight, and tried to look innocent, although I was furious with Kate for getting me into this.
“Thank you Ramos,” Uncle Joey said. “Please wait outside. I have something important to discuss with Shelby. You might say it’s a matter of life and death.” He smiled at his stupid joke, and I shrank back in my seat.
“When Kate called me this afternoon, she was pretty upset. I don’t like to see her upset. Her face gets all splotchy. It must have something to do with her complexion. You know how redheads are. Anyway, she posed an interesting question. One that I’m hoping you have the answer to.”
“What?” I couldn’t fathom what he wanted of me.
“How did you know I was involved in Kate’s life? Who told you about me?” At the puzzled expression on my face he continued. “Whoever you’re protecting, it won’t do them any good, so you might as well tell me, and save yourself a lot of trouble.”
My stomach sank, and a feeling of doom settled over me. What in the world was I going to tell him? He was looking at me expectantly, so I thought I’d better say something. “What makes you think Kate didn’t let it slip?”
He smiled chidingly. “Kate knows better than that. The only person who might have checked into her background is someone from her office. Your husband maybe?”
I blanched. “No. He doesn’t know anything.” Uncle Joey raised his brows. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to do something too drastic, like rip off my thumbs. Yikes! Would he really do that?
“Look,” I said frantically. “I really don’t know anything. I don’t know who you are, or what you do, or who you do it to, or anything.” I was babbling, but I couldn’t seem to stop. “I don’t know how you’re involved with Kate, except that you paid for all of her schooling, but that doesn’t mean anything. A lot of times an Aunt or Uncle will help with a niece’s education, right?”
Uncle Joey was scowling. He was thinking that he wasn’t her uncle, and it bothered him that I kept calling him that. He only allowed Kate to use it to keep her happy and ignorant. “You’re not answering my question. I’ll give you one more chance,” he smiled, but anger was simmering under that calm exterior. “You’d b
etter tell me the truth now, while you’ve still got all your fingers.”
I swallowed. He was serious. “And after that are you going to kill me?”
“Of course not. All I need is a name, then you’ll be free to go to your home in the avenues with your husband and two children.”
My blood ran cold. He knew all about my family and me. He was thinking he didn’t want to kill me, but at this point, he didn’t have a choice. Once I gave him what he wanted, he’d have Ramos take care of it. Make it look like an accident. Like that brunette that got on his nerves. He couldn’t remember her name, something like Amanda. Then he realized that getting rid of me would make Kate happy, and that seemed to help him make up his mind.
Something inside me snapped. It must have been the part about making Kate happy that did it. “You dirty, rotten liar! You have no intention of letting me go home. You’re going to tell Ramos to make it look like an accident. The same as what’s her name Amanda. And then you have the gall to think that killing me will make Kate happy? Well, I’ve got news for you. Chris wouldn’t want Kate even if I was dead! And just what makes her so special anyway? I mean…if you’re not her Uncle, then who are you?”
Uncle Joey’s eyes bulged. No one had ever talked to him like that before. Then he seemed to grasp what I had just said. “You…how…?”
I was still shaking with indignation, but I took a quick breath, and pulled myself together. “I read your mind.”
“That’s impossible.” He didn’t believe me, despite the overwhelming evidence.
“I used to think that too. But I can hear your thoughts just as plain as if you were speaking aloud. Right now you’re thinking one of us is crazy, and it had better be me.”
His mouth dropped open in wonder, and he stared at me like I had just grown two heads. Then his eyes tightened with speculation, and he began to envision all of the things I could do for him. Useful things, like finding out who was cheating or lying to him. His mind whipped through half a dozen different scenarios, too fast for me to catch them all, but leaving no doubt as to what he wanted from me.
Carrots: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Page 7