“If you shoot her now, then I’ll shoot you. Back off. I’m using her as bait.”
“Bait for what?” Catarina asked as she resumed binding my wrists together. She bound my ankles too but left some slack.
“There are too many people involved. She’ll lure a couple of them out, and I will settle this once and for all.”
I remembered the movement I had seen in the main office area. Someone was out there. They must know what’s going on. Surely the person would save me.
“Let’s get going. I don’t know if the blonde and her linebacker called the police, but I don’t want to be here if they arrive. Catarina, take the trophy. Dagor, take the girl, but don’t kill her yet.”
Dagor gripped me by the back of the neck and yanked me out of my seat. “You are so lucky. I would have killed you by now.”
“I’m not feeling too lucky either way,” I said.
“Shut it!” he growled, digging his gun into my back.
Dagor and I were first to leave, followed by Catarina and then Pierre. I stumbled my way through the cluttered walkway with my bindings. I was only able to move a few inches at a time, all the while Dagor’s gun dug its way into my back. I scanned the room to see if anyone was still around. I couldn’t detect any movements. I needed an ally in my corner. There were two guns and pepper spray, and I was tied up like a hog ready for the barbecue.
Muffin would never call the cops to rescue me, but Mya might. She wouldn’t leave me here when she knew Dagor was after me. Then again, Muffin could overpower Mya and almost anyone else.
“Into the SUV,” Dagor demanded.
I headed toward the SUV with my tiny steps.
“This would be faster if you untied my ankles,” I said.
“Are you in a hurry to die?”
I shut my mouth.
The sound of tires crunching their way through decrepit pavement made us all turn. Five black luxury SUVs drove through the lot, blocking off the exit and sealing us in the back lot.
“Shit! They’re early,” Dagor growled, jerking me in front of him to use as a human shield. His hands tightened around my upper arms, squeezing off blood flow.
He had every reason to be nervous. The drug lords had arrived, and there was no escape . . . for any of us.
Chapter 18
I watched as four men from each SUV stepped out. They were of Hispanic origin and dressed in light-weight clothing—which did nothing to conceal the heavy weaponry they were carrying. A frightened Dagor dug his nails into my arms.
Seeing twenty men leering like they had the upper hand and knew it made me stiffen. Numbness to the situation unfolding was clouding my senses. I couldn’t face death again. My hands fisted in a knot, waiting for the men to make their move.
Dagor’s face drained to ghost white. He stammered and stepped back a couple of steps, dragging me with him. Pierre and Catarina stood close by. Both had shifty eyes as if they were searching for the nearest exit.
My eyes drifted to the middle SUV. There was someone still in there, but the windows were tinted to block the view. Twenty men had guns, and Dagor was using me as a shield; what was one more scary, unseen man?
“Time’s up, Dagor,” a man with a goatee said with a Spanish accent. He stood slightly in front of the rest of the pack. “Drop your gun.”
Dagor dropped his gun immediately. It clattered to the ground. “But you gave me more time,” Dagor squeaked. His voice faltered and panicked.
I pulled at the knots in the rope, hoping to free myself before anyone was the wiser.
“The boss decided you had long enough.”
“The trophy is right there,” he pointed at Catarina, who held the trophy behind her.
Catarina scowled at Dagor.
“Hand it over,” the man said.
“I was offered a lot of money to obtain this trophy,” she said. “Are you going to pay me?”
My eyes widened at her bold question. I would have thrown the trophy at them and ran for my life.
“No. Hand it over or we’ll take it by force.”
“Where’s your boss? I want to speak with him,” Catarina stated.
Dagor growled under his breath, “Shut up or you’re going to get us killed.”
The man with the goatee smirked with a dark glint in his eyes. “Dagor, you’re already a dead man.”
Dagor shivered and became silent. He stayed behind me.
“Give me the trophy now,” the man said. “This is your last warning.”
With one wave of his finger, nineteen guns were pointed at Catarina. She choked and backed up, looking for an escape in both directions. Pierre stood near but offered no help. He concentrated on the scene unfolding.
“Give it to him,” I barked. I was sick of guns being pointed at me and sticking me in the ribs. I didn’t care what secret the trophy held.
Two men advanced. Pierre’s eyes narrowed as he was ready to make his move. His gun was tucked into the back of his pants waistband. His fingers twitched slightly. If he drew his gun and shot at the men, they would shoot back. It would be a bloodbath, with me standing in the middle.
Catarina gripped the trophy, Pierre’s hand moved, and I stepped to the side, with Dagor still clutching me. As the men advanced and closed in on Catarina, she yelped and threw me the trophy. My first reaction was to catch it, but Dagor’s grasp was tight. By the time I freed myself from Dagor and the loosened rope, the trophy crashed onto the pavement.
Shards and splinters of the trophy broke off in a cascade of destruction. All eyes widened and gasped at the destroyed trophy. It seemed as though ten minutes passed before anyone said anything or moved.
The man with the goatee broke the silence with a roar. “Find it!”
Three men scurried over to the debris, searching the scraps for their secret. I took a step back, wanting to distance myself. A crunching sound under my shoe made me halt and peer down. I was sure it was just more debris from the wreckage. A black speck caught my eye. I reached down casually so as to not draw any unwanted attention and plucked a piece off the ground. A trophy chunk was stuck to a small black encasing. I broke the black nugget off the trophy chunk.
“What’s that?” the man asked.
I jumped from surprise. “I, uh, it’s just a part of the trophy,” I said, palming the black secret and tossing the trophy chunk to the ground near the men who were searching the debris. As soon as the man turned away, I pocketed the black case. I don’t know what made me do it. I wanted the secret far away, but I didn’t want the cartel to have it.
A high-pitched squeal broke through the air. It traveled from the front lot all the way to the back lot. Screeching of tires and slamming of brakes made us all look beyond the black SUVs to Mya’s car flying through the lot with Muffin at the wheel. Muffin swerved the car to squeeze through the SUV barricade. She grazed both sides of Mya’s car with a shiver-inducing, metal-on-metal scraping sound.
Muffin repeatedly honked the horn. The men scattered to avoid the vehicle descending upon us in fury. To the side of me, Catarina and Pierre made a run for it in the confusion. The car slid to a screeching halt in front of me.
“Get in!” Muffin hollered.
I wrenched open the dented and scraped back door and dove in. Dagor grabbed at my foot before I could close the door. He held my ankle with a crushing grip.
“I don’t think so!” Dagor growled. “You need to die.”
I kicked out my free leg, nailing his whole face with my shoe. His hands sprung open as he stumbled back.
Muffin revved the engine and peeled away before I could close my door. The open door slammed into Dagor as she whipped around to escape. Guns were pointed and cocked as Muffin squeezed the car through the barricade again. The same ear-splitting sound of scraping metal made my skin alight with bumps.
A bullet shattered the rear window, making us scream. The sound of bullets pelting the back of the car drowned out Mya’s screams until we flew around the corner and out to the street.
I
clutched my chest until I could breathe again. I turned to peek out the rear window to see if anyone was following us. The window was shattered into a thousand glass shards. I couldn’t make out anything.
“Muffin, are they following us?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The side mirrors are broken off. Stick your head out of the window and look.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“It’s the only way to know.”
I rolled down the window and tentatively stuck my head out but ducked back immediately. I wasn’t expecting to see anything with my short burst. It was to see if my head would be used as target practice.
I steadied myself, took a deep breath, and looked back out. I scanned the road behind us. There were vehicles driving near us; none were the same black SUVs.
“I don’t see them,” I shouted.
As I ducked my head in to sit back down, a flash of black caught my eye. No, no, no! Please, no! I scanned the road again and saw a black SUV. There had to be at least two. But with traffic, it was hard to tell how many more.
“They’re following us,” I whimpered as I sat back down in the seat.
“I knew we shouldn’t have gone back to get her,” Muffin said to Mya.
“Nadia is like family. We couldn’t leave her. And if you would have let me call the police we wouldn’t be running and my car wouldn’t be trashed,” she pouted.
“She’s not my family. Now I’m going to have to shake them off our tail. I didn’t even get my Cluckity Chicken.”
“It should be easy to lose them,” I said hopefully. “There are enough cars on the road to make it difficult to follow.”
Muffin grumbled something under her breath.
“I’ll buy you ten buckets of chicken when we’re safe,” Mya said.
Muffin grinned. I’d never seen her grin before; it was a little frightening with her large, crooked teeth. At least she was a willing driver now. She sped up and raced through a yellow light, taking corners at supersonic speed.
I slipped the black chunk out of my pocket. I couldn’t help it. I had the secret in my hand, and I wanted to know what it was. It was smooth except for a few trophy flecks still adhered to the coating. It wasn’t rigid plastic or metal, more like a hardened gel coating. There was something inside. My fingers played with it, trying to move the gel away.
“Look out the window and see if they’re gone,” Muffin said.
I stretched my head out the window and scanned for black SUVs. Nothing. I sighed, and my normal heart rhythm resumed.
“I don’t see anything,” I said, sinking back into the seat.
“Where are we going?” Muffin asked.
“We could go to my place,” Mya offered.
“No. Everyone knows where you live. It wouldn’t be safe,” I said.
“How about the chapel?” Muffin asked.
The cops should have arrived by now to arrest Muffin. I was having second thoughts about taking part in her arrest since she just saved my life, but I’d be homeless if the police didn’t step in. And I could hand over the black secret and wash my hands once and for all. The secret was alluring, but I wasn’t willing to risk my life again.
“Yeah, let’s go back to the chapel,” I agreed.
Muffin rounded a few corners and drove to the chapel.
“What’s going on over there?” Mya asked.
I peeked over and glanced out the front window. Two squad cars were in the chapel parking lot. The uniformed officers were talking to Frankie, who had lost most of his feathers.
Muffin drove past the chapel parking lot as inconspicuously as possible considering the car was riddled with bullet holes and had a shattered rear window.
I watched as Frankie pointed to the third-floor window with his wing and then down to Lucille.
“I can’t believe my husband called the cops just because I lost control of my ax for a moment. We’re going to have a serious talk when I get my hands on him.”
“When are you getting your inheritance?” I asked. “Then you can annul the marriage.”
“These things take time. You don’t happen to know how much money Frankie has, do you? I think I need a little to tide me over. The remodeling project will need some funds too,” she said.
“I don’t know anything about Frankie’s finances.”
She shrugged. “Now where do we go?”
My first instinct was to find Greyson and Remy, but my groaning insides reminded me that was out of the question. I didn’t know where to find David, and since Mya was with me, that was out of the question too. Sergio was my only option.
“Let’s go to Sergio’s place,” I said.
Muffin turned the next corner. “Do you think he’s home?”
“I have no idea, but we can try.”
“It’s too bad the trophy was smashed,” Muffin said. “I wanted to know what the secret was.”
“Yeah, too bad,” I murmured as I turned the little black square in my fingers.
I wasn’t able to unravel the mystery in the time it took Muffin to drive to Sergio’s apartment. She turned into the parking lot and searched for a spot.
“Do you think anyone will notice a bullet-ridden car parked here?” she asked.
“There aren’t too many parking options,” I said. “Once we’re upstairs we can keep a lookout to see if we’ve been spotted.”
Muffin parked the car, and we jumped out. Mya was first to see the car damage. She squeaked as her hand ran over several bullet holes and a gouge that trailed from bumper to bumper.
“Oh, no! Muffin, can you open the trunk?”
Muffin popped the trunk open to find a rolled up Persian rug. It was thick and beautiful, making me suspect Mya paid good money for it. Bullets had torn holes through it, making it as valuable as her beat-up car.
“Now I know why Nadia is still alive. Those bullets should have blown right through her seat and killed her,” Muffin said matter-of-factly.
My knees shifted and gummed as my eyes focused on each bullet lodged right behind my seat.
“Let’s get inside,” Muffin said, dragging a speechless Mya.
I followed, watching to see if any SUVs lurked around the corner. We piled into the elevator, and Muffin punched the button with her finger. The three of us stared blankly at the elevator door, waiting for it to open.
As soon as the elevator door opened, we dashed down the hall. Mya was first to the knock on the door. We waited a minute before Muffin moved Mya out of the way and pounded on the door with her fist. If Sergio was home, he had to have heard the pounding.
“Should we wait here?” Mya asked.
“I’ll open it,” Muffin said.
“We can’t enter without Sergio,” I argued.
“In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re hiding from the cartel. I’m going in with or without you.”
Muffin took a step back and rammed her shoulder into the door. The door pressed in but didn’t break free.
“Muffin, wait!” Mya cried.
“Hang on. I almost got this,” she said, ramming the door again. I could hear the lock pop and wood splintering. “Damn, almost. One more time.”
“Wait!” Mya shrieked.
Muffin rammed the door for the third time. The splintering wood near the locks gave way; the door flew open.
“Muffin, I had the key!”
Muffin peered down at Mya. “You could have told me sooner!”
“Why do you have Sergio’s key?” I asked.
“He gave it to me so I could get your party ready. I meant to give it back to him but I forgot.”
Muffin was already scoping out Sergio’s place. “Damn, he still doesn’t have any comfortable furniture.”
“We’re not staying long,” I said. “Why don’t we take turns watching out the window? I think the bedroom may have the best parking-lot view.”
“I’ll go first. The bed will be more comfortable than anything out here,” Muffin said.
I watched as s
he disappeared through the door. She didn’t close it but was at least out of sight. It would allow me to explore the little black square.
As I listened to bedsprings groan as Muffin made herself comfortable, I put my finger up to my lips to instruct Mya to be quiet. I slid the black square out of my pocket and laid it on the card table next to Sergio’s laptop. Mya’s eyes widened.
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“It was in the trophy. It’s what everyone is searching for,” I whispered back.
“Why don’t you want Muffin to know?”
“Because she’s a con artist and wants to sell it. I have a feeling this is something that shouldn’t be sold.”
“I don’t believe it. Muffin is harmless.”
“Muffin is anything but harmless.”
“Then what should we do?”
“Open the black square and see what the mystery is about.”
Mya nodded with enthusiasm. I ran to find a knife. The kitchen was sparse pickings, but I was able to find a steak knife. Muffin heard me rummaging in the kitchen.
“Hey! Bring me a snack,” she hollered from the bedroom.
“Uh . . . let me look. I don’t think he has any food.”
“Order me a pizza,” she said. “You can’t have a stakeout without pizza.”
I hurried to the table. “Mya, call and order a pizza. I don’t have my phone.”
She dialed while I inspected the square’s coating. If I sliced a little piece open, I should be able to tear the coating off. I didn’t want to ruin whatever was inside so I grazed the side with the knife. The knife bit into the black coating though it took a bit of coaxing to break enough of it away for me to grab.
I set the knife down and picked at the coating with my fingernails. At first it didn’t give, but then my nail grabbed enough to tear just a little bit more. It revealed black hard plastic underneath. I tore the remaining coating off; there it was . . . the secret.
Mya finished the pizza order and hung up. Her eyes never left my hands.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s some sort of memory card.”
“Can you stick it into the computer?”
“I think so,” I said. “But it was cooked in the oven. The files may be corrupted. However, it was in the middle of the trophy, so it may not have heated to the same temperature as the outside.”
High Stakes Page 19