Shades got a text, then turned to the others and motioned to go. They quietly rolled across the street, coasting to the rear of the lot.
Mojo was standing outside. He pointed to a grassy area on the side, and they rolled their bikes back there. If Coolie showed up, they didn’t want to tip him off.
The boys parked and climbed off.
“He alone?” Shades asked Mojo.
“Yep, got em tied to a chair in the back.”
“You check for cameras?”
“Yeah, there aren’t any.”
Hammer followed Shades inside, past the door with the broken lock that appeared to have been kicked in. His palms already itching to beat the fuck outta this guy.
They entered a narrow hallway that ran along the rear wall to the left corner of the building, then turned right. They found the guys in an office in the back. Everyone stepped out of the way when Shades, Ghost, and Hammer entered the room. It was crowded, a dozen bikers standing around a guy cuffed to a chair, duct tape over his mouth.
Hammer’s eyes slid over him. He looked like one of those young, sleazy-type injury lawyers who ran commercials during the day, promising big verdicts if they’d just call. Did desperate couples really trust this schmuck to provide them babies in legal adoptions, or did they know they were coming to an unethical alternative and dealing with a man who stole babies?
His eyes were terrified above the tape.
Hammer stepped forward and adjusted the rings on his right hand, in order to do the most damage, then he pulled his fist back and punched him in the face.
He heard something crack and pop when he made impact, and it wasn’t his hand.
Gator let out a heavy sigh. “Now I gotta pull the duct tape off or he’s gonna drown in his own blood, dude.”
Griz chuckled. “You’re so overworked.”
Gator ripped the tape off, and the man spat a mouthful of blood. “Please, what do you want? I have a Rolex. Take my Mercedes. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Shades shook his head. “I fucking hate when they beg for their miserable lives. So cowardly.”
“Where’s your brother and the baby?” Hammer bit out, grabbing him by his necktie and pulling him up until the guy was stretched between his cuffed hands and his chokehold.
“What baby? I don’t know anything about a baby. What’s my brother done now? He’s always getting into trouble. I’ve got nothing to do with it. I swear.”
Hammer released him, shoving him back, already out of patience with his lies and bullshit. “Who’s got a lighter?” he growled.
Shades dug in his hip pocket and pulled one out. It was the cheap, disposable, sold-in-any-gas-station plastic kind. He tossed it to Hammer, who caught it in the air.
He adjusted the height of the flame and flicked it on. “So, Carter Riggs, how’s your sister, Beth, and your mother, Phyllis doing?”
Carter looked confused, but he kept flicking his eyes to the flame.
“You got a wife, Carter?”
“LuAnn,” Slick provided the name. “And then there’s little Sara and Davie.”
“LuAnn, huh? She a looker?”
Carter’s eyes darted around the roomful of bikers.
Hammer leaned forward. “She pretty?”
He nodded.
“She like big men with big dicks?” His insinuation plain. “Maybe you don’t help us out, we’ll have to pay her a visit. My friend here has all kinds of tools in his van that I just bet little LuAnn would love.”
“No, please.”
“How old are your kids, Carter?”
“Don’t hurt my kids, please.”
“How old are they?”
“Six and two.”
“How would LuAnn feel if little Sara and Davie disappeared one day?”
“Please, don’t hurt my babies.” His lip was fat and blood trickled down his chin onto his dress shirt and tie in big fat blobs. His jaw was already turning yellow and swelling. Another few minutes, and he was gonna look like a puffy marshmallow.
“Still haven’t heard what I want to know,” Hammer murmured, passing his hand over the flame. “You ever had your skin burned, Carter? Burned so bad it started to melt?” Hammer grabbed Carter’s hand, holding out the index finger in a tight grip. “Let’s start with the finger you count all that money with.”
“No, no, please. I—I…”
Hammer held the lighter to Carter’s fingertip, and the man screamed.
Griz got behind him and covered his mouth, muffling the sound.
The tinkle of a bell sounded, and the sound of street traffic carried to them as the glass door at the front of the building pushed open. The men all stared at each other, and Hammer flicked the lighter off.
Shades hissed at Slick, “No one thought to watch the front, shithead?”
Carter moaned in pain behind Griz’s hand.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Mr. Carter,” a woman’s voice called. “We’re here.”
“Come on back,” Shades answered. “I’m in the office.”
No one moved a muscle as heels clacked on the tile. The couple approached down the hall.
“Which office?” Her voice was closer this time.
Ghost pulled his weapon and stood by the doorway. The moment the couple got within a few feet, he moved around the doorframe, leveling his gun at their heads. The woman jumped, banging into the wall behind her and hitting her head. The man took off for the front door.
JJ tore after him and tackled him two feet from the outside. He sat on his back and pointed a gun at his head. “Don’t fucking move, you goddamn coward. Just gonna leave your wife to us, were you?”
“No, I… please don’t hurt her.”
“We’re not here for you or your wife. You just got in the way.” He hauled him to his feet and herded him into the office. Ghost hustled the woman inside. Two sets of handcuffs and more duct tape, and they were secured to chairs as well.
“We get anymore unexpected visitors, we’re gonna run out of tape.” Griz grinned.
Shades jerked his chin to the front, his eyes on Gator. “Keep an eye out.”
Hammer bent forward, hands on his knees, and got right in Carter’s face. “Now, where were we? Oh, right, your index finger. Shall we continue, or you got something to tell me?”
Griz took his hand away so the man could answer.
“He’s waiting for my call.” He nodded to the couple. “They’re here to pick the baby up today, but Jason won’t show until I call him.”
“Guess that means you’re makin’ a fucking phone call,” Shades growled. “Where’s your phone?”
He nodded to the one laying on the desktop. Hammer picked it up. “What’s your code?”
“6969.”
Ghost rolled his eyes. “How original.”
Hammer unlocked the phone and scrolled through the contacts, finding one for Jason Riggs. He dialed it and put it on speaker. As it rang, he warned Carter, “You fuck this up, I’ll barbeque you alive, understand?”
Carter nodded, terror lining his face.
Ghost pointed his gun at the woman. “Not one whimper, understand?”
Her head shook like a fucking bobble head doll, her eyes petrified.
Coolie came on the line. “Yo, bro. You ready?”
“Yes. They’re here. Bring the boy,” Carter replied.
“You got the money?”
“Yes, yes. Hurry up.”
“You better not double-cross me, Carter. I want what you promised.”
“You’ll get it. All of it. Just hurry up. I want to get this deal over with; I have somewhere to be.”
“Don’t you always. Be there in five. Me and the boy were gettin’ ice cream.”
“Where are you?” Carter asked, reading Hammer’s mind.
“Sonic. It’s two-for-one day.”
“Fuck the ice cream. Just get here.”
“Ain’t you in a mood.”
Hammer disconnected before something gave them away
or set off Coolie’s suspicions.
Shades squatted down in front of the woman. “You know what kind of adoption this was?”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
“You know the baby you were getting was stolen?”
Her eyes got big, and she looked at her husband. Again she shook her head.
Hammer watched the husband. His eyes gave him away. Guilt was written all over them. Hammer wasn’t sure the woman knew, but her husband sure as fuck did. He reached forward and pulled his tape off. “What’s your name?”
His eyes cut to Carter, and Hammer snapped. “Don’t fucking look at him.”
“Landers. Robert Landers.”
“And your wife?”
“Patricia. Patty.”
“What do you do for a living Robert Landers?”
“I’m an assistant principle at a middle school.”
Hammer’s brows shot up. “That so? And Patty… What’s she do?”
“She works for the post office.”
“You’re the one who found Attorney Riggs, here, aren’t you?” Hammer asked him.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Was your wife aware of what kind of shady illegal deal this was?”
“No, I swear, she doesn’t know anything. We’ve tried for years to have a baby. Nothing worked. The backlog for most adoption agencies takes years and I…I’m over forty-five. They won’t take us.”
“So, you just thought you’d buy one?”
“That’s not what I thought. I mean, I thought the mother had died, and the father was relinquishing rights. I was told he was in no position to raise the child. I didn’t know this was illegal. I thought this was a legal private adoption. I didn’t know the baby was stolen, I swear it.”
“But you knew something wasn’t right, didn’t you?”
The man hung his head. “It was happening so fast. That didn’t seem right. It was too easy. He even asked us exactly what we wanted. Boy, girl, what color eyes… I thought that was strange.”
“We get the kid, what’re we gonna do with them?” Slick jerked his chin at Carter and the couple, then cut his eyes to his VP.
Shades stroked his chin. “You still got all that evidence? The trail that ties this all together?”
“Yeah. In my saddlebag back at the gas station.”
Shades nodded, folding his arms and staring down at the couple. “Usually, I’d say we handle this ourselves, but I’m thinking—with this couple showing up—that plan’s fucked. Maybe we send the evidence to the DA with a big bow on it and leave these three tied up with a note.”
“I like the way you think, and I’m definitely wrapping a big red bow around the file, putting it in a box, and sending it.”
Shades grinned. He grabbed a notepad and scribbled out a note. He taped it to the door.
Ghost read it aloud.
Hi, my name is Attorney Carter Riggs, and I kidnap babies and sell them in illegal adoptions. Please send me to prison for a long time. It’s the only place I’ll be safe.
Watch for a package of evidence that ties me to all of it. It will arrive tomorrow at the DA’s office .
P.S. These nice people had no idea, but they will make great state’s witnesses against me.
“The smiley face at the bottom is a nice touch,” Ghost said.
“Thank you,” Shades replied.
“Car’s pullin’ in,” Gator yelled from the front.
Shades, Ghost, and Hammer jogged down the hall to the rear entrance. Shades held them back with an arm, keeping just out of sight along the wall. He peeked around the edge.
“What’s happening?” Hammer hissed.
“He’s stopped, lookin’ at that van. He’s gettin’ suspicious. Lookin’ around. Not sure what to do.”
“Can you see Ethan? Is he in the car?”
“I can’t tell.”
“No guns. I don’t want Ethan getting hurt,” Hammer growled.
“Right. Shit, he spotted me. He’s makin’ a run for it. Go!” Shades pushed the door open and charged outside.
Jason was roaring in reverse toward the street. Ghost and Shades took off on foot, running after him.
Hammer made the split second decision and ran for his bike instead. He hopped on and fired it up, tearing full throttle up the grassy side yard. When he came around the front corner of the building, He saw the car backing into traffic with Ghost spread-eagled on the hood, hanging on with all his might.
Coolie spun to the right and hit his brakes, and Ghost slid off into traffic. Horns blared and cars swerved. Hammer saw a little head in the back window as Jason slammed it in drive and tore off down the road, leaving a burnout and a cloud of smoke.
Hammer cut across the sidewalk and over the curb, coming down hard and almost laying his bike down. He managed to lean to the right, and he gunned the throttle.
Coolie had a block on him, made a yellow light, and headed farther down Woodley Road away from town.
Hammer hit the intersection on a red light and swerved, dodging between cars and made it across. He gunned it, the Toyota fading into the distance.
A car pulled out of a side street, and Hammer darted to the left into oncoming traffic, barely making it around the car before a pickup blasted by, its horn blaring.
They rode farther out of town. The road was only two lane, tree-lined with a canopy of Spanish moss hanging over like a tunnel in parts.
Hammer caught up to the Toyota and rode along the driver’s side; he got close and kicked the door with his boot.
Coolie laughed maniacally and yanked the wheel, turning the car into him. Hammer heard Ethan crying.
He backed off and tried the other side.
Coolie slammed on the brakes, and Hammer had to brake and swerve or he would have hit the car. The Toyota pulled away, gaining ground.
Hammer gunned the throttle, determined not to let him get away with Ethan.
Coolie began passing cars, swerving dangerously into oncoming traffic, and Hammer knew he had to put an end to this. He pulled up along the passenger’s side in an area that had a paved shoulder. Up ahead was a bridge. He only had about fifty yards before he’d run out of road. A cement bridge abutment loomed ahead of him.
Hammer knew, in the split-second he had to decide, that he would lose his bike and possibly his own life when he jumped, lunging onto the trunk of the Toyota and hanging on for dear life. His bike floated off to the right, down a ravine and into a river. He faced forward. Ethan was crying in the car seat in the back, and Coolie’s eyes were locked on his rearview mirror.
Hammer knew Coolie wanted nothing more than to zigzag and throw him off, but he couldn’t; the bridge was too narrow, and a semi was coming roaring up in the oncoming lane, horn blaring.
Coolie was coming up fast on the bumper of a big silver fuel truck, but he couldn’t go around this time because there were a line of log-haulers coming up the road.
The truck in front stopped, locking Coolie in with no place to go.
Hammer jumped off the back and yanked the driver’s door open, dragging Coolie from the car. He punched him in the face and threw him to the ground, then he yanked open the rear door to unbuckle Ethan from his car seat, pulling him into his arms and crushing him tightly to his shoulder. “My boy, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
The traffic ahead began to move and pull away.
Coolie got to his feet and staggered, pointing at Hammer. “You fucking asshole! You’re ruining everything!”
Another log-hauler came blowing past just as Coolie staggered back into the oncoming lane.
Hammer turned Ethan’s face away as Coolie was struck by the massive semi, his broken body tossed like a rag doll over the side of the bridge.
The truck locked its brakes and began to fishtail. The driver over-corrected and jack-knifed on the bridge, logs bouncing off.
Hammer ran with Ethan, trying to escape the massive rolling logs.
When the booming sound stopped, and the bridge
stopped shaking, he looked back; one log had stopped just short of the Toyota.
Hammer looked over the rail, spotting Coolie’s twisted and broken body smashed on the cement pillion below. Clutching Ethan in a grateful hug and thanking God, Hammer took the child to the Toyota and quickly buckled him in. “I’m taking you home, Ethan. Away from the bad man.”
Ethan nodded and wiped his eyes but continued crying.
Hammer jumped in the driver’s seat and sped away, knowing he had to get them out of there before the police showed up or someone came to help. A half a mile down, the fuel truck was already pulled to the side of the road, the driver running back to help. Hammer averted his face so the man couldn’t identify him.
If he got the description of the car or plate number it wouldn’t matter. It was a stolen car out of Florida with no connection to him.
Once he was well past the trucker, he dug his phone out of his pocket and called Shades.
“Yeah?”
“I got him. He’s safe.”
“Thank God! Where are you? The bridge is blocked. We’re all stuck and can’t get through.”
“We’re on the other side. I’ll meet you at the gas station. We need to dump this car.”
“Mojo’s loaning us a sedan. Where’s your bike?”
“In the river, and I don’t give a damn. I’ve got my boy. That’s all that matters.”
“Amen.”
Hammer disconnected and glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’ve been trying to find you, son. I never gave up looking for you. Never. And I’ll never let anyone take you from me again.”
The boy nodded. “Unkie? I want teddy.”
“I know you do. He missed you, too, peanut. Let’s go get him.”
He sniffled one last time and then nodded. “O-kay.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Skylar paced the floor, Rebel at her feet playing, while Jessie sat with Hammer’s mother, patting her arm. “You have such a lovely home, Mrs. Dodge. Can I get you some tea?”
She shook her head. “I thought we’d hear something by now.”
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