by Angela Evans
There wasn’t much she could do about being locked in the refrigerator, but she could plan for what they could do when that door opened. She’d grown up with six brothers, she had been involved in more than her share of scuffles and wrestling matches, but she was no match against a gun. The men who had locked them all in here had several guns and definitely hadn’t looked like they would hesitate to use them. Amelia shuddered at the thought.
She had to get out of here, but she also had to keep Dex’s family safe. She’d never forgive herself if they got hurt.
“We should all move towards the back.” Amelia said decisively. “Further away from the door so if they come back we can react.”
Everyone looked at her with stunned expressions on their face, no one moving.
“Look, those guys are bound to come back in here at some point. If we’re right inside the door we have no time at all to react or defend ourselves. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not giving up without a fight. If we can get to the back, maybe even some of us out of sight a little, we have a better chance at surprising them. And if Dex does show up—which I’m hoping he does soon—we could help him.”
That seemed to spur them into action, and everyone slowly moved towards the back of the cooler.
“Let’s put Patrice in the middle.” Amelia suggested. Patrice was the oldest and therefore more susceptible to the cold than the rest of them were. Everyone agreed with a silent nod and huddled around Patrice in the center of their little bundle. Amelia placed herself nearest the door.
“What are we going to do?” Leslie whispered. Saying the thing they were all thinking. What on earth were they going to do? They couldn’t last in this cold much longer.
“We’re going to stay warm, and we’re going to get out of this,” Amelia whispered back fiercely.
After a few tense moments of silence Patrice broke the quiet, “My son will come for us, I know he will.”
* * *
Dex stood outside the front door of the bakery and took a deep breath. His whole family was in there. Amelia was in there. With gun-wielding drug dealers who wanted to kill him.
Just another day at the office for him, but the women he loved had no place in that world.
There was that L-word again when he thought of Amelia, but there was no time to process it, or the terror it invoked in him right now. He pushed it aside, focusing on what he had to do.
Through the ear piece in his ear, he heard Agent Anderson’s voice. “You good, Dexter?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s do this. Remember, that’s my family in there,” Dex reminded Anderson again.
“Our count shows your mother, your two sisters, and two unknown women.” Anderson clarified.
“One of those unknown women is Amelia Barton and if one hair on her head gets so much as bent, I’ll have your ass.” Dex didn’t give a shit who he was talking to. If Amelia got hurt, or even bruised, he would make someone pay dearly. He would also never forgive himself.
“She must be screamin’ hot.” It wasn’t at all unusual for cops to give each other a hard time over the radio before an operation. It helped lighten the mood and ease the nerves, but tonight all it did was piss Dex off.
“She’s none of your damn business, that’s what she is. Just get her out alive, even if I go down.” Dex snarled before he opened the door. All he wanted was to get his family and Amelia out of there.
The door opened soundlessly, but Dex made sure those inside knew he was there; the last thing he wanted was to startle some jumpy guys with guns. “Hello?” Dex called out and immediately heard shuffling in the back room. Standing with his arms out from his side, clearly showing he was unarmed, he waited for The Boss to make his appearance in the doorway.
“Hello, Officer Dexter. It’s so good to see you again.” The dripping sarcasm was accompanied by a menacing looking man, arms covered in tattoos and a shaved bald head, holding a Glock was pointed directly at Dex’s chest.
“Detective.” Dex corrected him just to irritate him. “It’s Detective Dexter.”
“Excuse me, Detective. Although I suspect after having your cover blown, your boss may be reconsidering that title.”
“Speaking of covers blown, James Warren, I suppose I could say the same thing to you.” The surprise clearly registered on Warren’s face at hearing his real name used by Dex.
Warren was flocked on either side by his thugs, one of which Dex recognized from the beach a few days ago, which explained how his cover was blown. The other was new to him. Both were holding semi-automatic pistols similar to the one Warren was pointing at him.
“Since we’re on a first name basis now, why don’t you come on back and join the party.” Warren’s menacing smile did little to put Dex’s concerns to rest.
“Where are the women?” Dex asked as he walked towards the high glass counter of the bakery. As soon as he reached Warren and his thugs, he was grabbed and pushed against the counter so they could check him for weapons.
“You’re not really in a position to be demanding things, Detective.” Warren turned and walked back into the back room of the bakery, dismissing Dex as if he were of no concern to him at all.
The thugs didn’t find any guns on Dex because he’d left his own Glock in the safe keeping of Agent Anderson, who was down the block parked in that same white van he’d been in earlier. Anderson could hear everything they were saying through the microphone hidden inside the button on Dex’s shirt. Just thinking of that small piece of technology was enough to remind Dex he was here for a dual purpose. To get the women he loved out safely, and to get a confession out of Warren so they could put him away for the rest of his miserable life.
“You must not be a very good detective,” Warren taunted him.
“Oh? How do you figure that?” Dex glanced around the kitchen as he entered looking for signs of where the women might be hidden. If they weren’t here, then Dex had made a serious error in coming here because now no one was looking for them at all. Panic gripped his stomach before Dex pushed it away so he could focus and do his job.
“You’ve been in my organization for over a year and you still have absolutely no evidence on me.” Warren pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Maybe you’re not a very good criminal. I was undercover in your organization for over a year and you never suspected I was a cop.” Dex was baiting Warren and it was a dangerous thing, but he needed him off balance and making mistakes. And he needed it to happen fast.
“Or I knew and that’s why you have no evidence.” Warren appeared unaffected as he leaned casually against the door to the walk-in cooler as he spoke.
“Are you so sure I have no evidence? Are you willing to risk your life on it? Because all it takes is getting one of your low-level thugs to flip on you and you’re looking at moving out of that fancy penthouse you live in and moving into a maximum security jail cell.” Damn, where were Amelia and his family? He could see from looking around the kitchen Amelia had been in the middle of making the cake. There were dirty cake pans in the sink, flour and sugar on the counter, and even some little flowers made out of icing or something on a sheet of paper.
Those flowers were for his mother’s wedding cake. The idea punched Dex in the gut like a sucker punch. His mother who had raised him and his sisters on her own, without a spare dime to spend on a luxury or something just for her. She had waited a lifetime for her own happy ending, and now he was messing it up. She was somewhere right now scared and thinking she wasn’t going to live to see her wedding day.
Anderson spoke quietly into the ear piece in Dex’s ear again. “Steady. Keep your eye on the ball.” The reminder to keep his emotions in check was exactly what he needed. Treating this like any other case.
Warren’s expression gave away a sliver of insecurity. He wasn’t as convinced as he pretended to be that they had nothing on him. With that slight break in his poker face, Warren unknowingly gave Dex the strategy he’d been searchi
ng for. Warren had tipped his hand and he didn’t even know it.
“Don’t you want to know how I knew where to find you?” Dex taunted. “I mean, if I really didn’t have anything at all on you, would I have known exactly where you were?”
“And if you had as much on me as you are pretending, how would I have gotten the jump on you to get your entire family and even your local piece of ass before you got here?” Warren was on edge and off balance, but he wasn’t ready to give up the game just yet.
Dex chanced a glance at the goons flanking Warren; they looked bored, even a little disinterested, but he knew if he made a move their guns would turn on him in a heartbeat. His best bet was to keep them out of the action until he was ready. Keeping his voice calm and flat, he kept talking.
“I’m more interested in what you don’t know than what you think I know. I mean, you thought I was nearly killed in the crash and then sent straight to the state pen from the hospital. Makes me wonder, that’s all.” Dex scratched his chin as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“What are you babbling about?” Warren was impatient.
“There were two of us in the car, that’s what I’m talking about,” Dex reminded him.
“That’s right. I heard you were soft for old Zack. Too bad you killed him. I was going to make him a rich man in my organization.” The smirk on Warren’s face made Dex want to punch him in the jaw.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. If you thought I was almost dead and I’m standing here about to arrest your ass, where could Zack actually be?” Dex raised an eyebrow in a taunt. “Could he be sitting in witness protection on a sweet deal after he sold your ass out?”
“You’re a dead man!” Warren shouted as he launched himself at Dex and all hell broke loose. Gunshots rang out and the light over their head exploded, raining down glass and sparks on everyone in the kitchen.
Anderson was shouting in his ear asking if he needed back up, but Dex had no idea what was going on, and he didn’t want the FBI to come in with guns blazing until he found Amelia and his family.
* * *
“Shh!” Amelia whispered to the other women. She had heard Dex’s voice, or she was hallucinating from the cold and the fear. “I think I hear someone talking,” she told the others.
“Oh my God, they’re coming back,” Francine said in undeniable panic.
“No, I don’t think so,” Amelia said around her own chattering teeth. She couldn’t stop shivering no matter what she did. She couldn’t feel the cold anymore, and she knew that was a sure sign of hypothermia.
“What do you hear?” Patrice’s lips were slightly blue in tint, which worried Amelia. “Is it my son?”
“I think so,” Amelia answered.
They continued to listen in silence to the low hum of voices through the insulated door of the walk-in cooler. No matter how hard she tried, Amelia couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but she recognized the sound of Dex’s voice without any doubt in her mind. What she wouldn’t give to be able to hear his voice again, whispering in her ear as they lay in bed, or as they walked hand in hand on the beach. Anything but listening to it talk to a drug dealer while she was locked in the refrigerator freezing to death.
She needed to figure out how to help Dex, and help herself and the other women at the same time.
Leslie edged closer to her, shivering as hard as Amelia. “We need to do something. This may be our only chance,” she whispered to Amelia.
“I was thinking the same thing. Dex has no idea we’re in here, or where we might be. We need to figure out how to signal him, or better yet provide some kind of distraction to give him the upper hand.” Amelia nodded.
“Remember, the door sticks,” Leslie reminded her. “Maybe if we both hit it together we could pop it open?”
“Sounds like as good of a plan as any I’ve got,” Amelia agreed and together they edged forward towards the door.
“Be careful!” Patrice cautioned them.
“We will,” Amelia and Leslie said in unison.
Pressing her ear against the cold metal door, Amelia listened for several minutes. All she could hear was the muffled sounds of what sounded like at least two men’s voices. After what felt like hours, but was really only a few minutes of waiting and listening, Amelia jumped when one voice suddenly shouted the unmistakable threat. “You’re a dead man!”
Fear coiled in Amelia’s stomach like a snake waiting to strike. Adrenaline spurred her into action and gave her more strength than she dreamed as she and Leslie moved in unison and both hit the solid door with their shoulders. Amelia heard a strangled cry and was surprised to realize the sound came from her own throat as they burst through the door setting off a chain reaction of chaos.
As if in slow motion, Amelia saw three armed men standing with their backs to the refrigerator door. As she and Leslie pushed the door wide open, they swept two of the men off balance, one firing a stray shot that hit the ceiling light. Sparks, glass, and noise surrounded them in the kitchen. Amelia spotted Dex on the opposite side of the center island; his expression conveyed shock and relief in equal measures as he saw her emerge from the cooler. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but she knew they were far from being ready to celebrate. The armed gunmen weren’t about to give up without a fight. One tried to grab her, but she refused to go back in that frozen hellhole.
Another gunshot rang out just as the musclebound goon closest to Amelia grabbed her arm in a bone crushing grip and pulled her towards him. Amelia reacted on instinct, digging in her heels and pulling away with all her might, ignoring the pain where his fingertips dug into her soft skin. Her shoes offered her no help as she slid along the floor like a defiant child fighting nap time. Amelia grabbed the countertop in an effort to leverage herself away from whatever he had in mind.
Suddenly there were more people there than it seemed could actually fit inside the bakery. Police, she thought with a relief. They weren’t wearing uniforms, but they did seem to be wearing protective vests. She was confused and didn’t know who was a friend and who was an enemy. She glanced around frantically looking for Dex, but couldn’t find him in the chaos. She tried to call out his name, but Muscles grabbed her and all she could do was scream in terror. In the corner of her vision she saw Dex then, his head popped up above the counter top. He’d been on the ground struggling with one of the other guys who had stuck her and his family in the refrigerator. She was off balance, still struggling to get away from the gigantic man who had a hold of her when suddenly he released her, sending her falling forward. Her eyes met Dex’s as she fell forward, her forehead hitting the stainless steel counter and sending her world into darkness.
* * *
“I’m okay,” Amelia said for what felt like the thousandth time in the last half hour. She kept scanning the room for Dex, but she hadn’t seen him since she first opened her eyes. She’d come to lying on the bakery floor, Dex hovering over her with an angry expression on his face and people she didn’t know standing all around her.
The man who had tried to grab her stood nearby, now clearly displaying a badge on a lanyard around his neck. He was a cop. He’d been trying to grab her to protect her, she realized, not to hurt her.
“I still think we should call paramedics,” Patrice said for the third time. Dex mumbled something and disappeared out the door. She hadn’t seen him since.
“I am fine,” Amelia insisted right back, holding the ice pack to her temple. “I blacked out for a split second, but I’m fine. I just need some aspirin. The ice is helping, I promise.”
The muscular man who had grabbed her spoke up. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let anyone know I was an agent. I was trying to grab you to put you behind me where you’d be safe. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His soft voice contradicted his tough exterior.
“I’m sorry I overreacted.” Amelia felt foolish. She’d caused all this herself by panicking and pulling away when he was only trying to protect
her.
Naomi handed her a bottle of water which Amelia gratefully accepted. “We should probably have someone check your head,” she said quietly.
“I’m fine, really. I just want to go home,” Amelia pleaded.
“Home?” Naomi raised an eyebrow.
“The bungalow,” Amelia clarified. “For now, that’s home. Until I figure out where home is going to be.”
The FBI had taken over the scene. Dex was somewhere talking to the agent in charge. She wished he would come back inside. She wished he would pick her up and carry her out of here, away from the craziness of this day. Away from drug dealers holding her hostage. Away from the mess that was the cake she’d spent all day making. Just away.
The men who had locked them in the refrigerator had been taken out in handcuffs. Everyone was okay; they were safe and it was over. She kept telling herself that, but her mind wouldn’t quite process it. She blamed the shivers that occasionally wracked her body on the ice pack pressed to her temple, and the afternoon spent in the refrigerator, but she knew it was most likely adrenaline causing it. Which was another reason why she desperately wished Dex would come back and take her home.
On shaky legs, Amelia pushed herself up off the floor, still clutching the ice pack to her temple, and leaned back against the counter for support. Her thoughts were racing. She’d almost died here; life was too short to live a life that didn’t make her happy.
She knew what made her happy. Now she just needed to figure out how to get it.
Dex made her happy. Baking made her happy. Barefoot Bay made her happy.
Patrice had wandered away, giving her the space she needed. Naomi and Francine had encouraged their mother to go outside and get some fresh air. Amelia thought that sounded like a great idea, so she had followed slowly, on slightly unsteady feet, until she was blinded by the Florida sun.