The Rainmaker: Jake: A Von Larsen Crime Family Novel

by Piper Page

  Where are her phones?

  I fumbled through her cosmetic bag and pulled out a burner phone and what must have been her personal phone. I opened the burner phone and saw it was the same one she had taken to Vegas, and only had the number’s I’d programmed in on the trip. That wasn’t going to help me. The second one, the one I thought was her personal phone, was also a fake. It contained no information but the Love or Lust website app. “What the fuck,” I yelled and tossed both phones to the floor.

  The air hit my face and I half expected to see her standing there on the sidewalk with her arms crossed, giving me a look of self satisfaction. The sidewalk was nearly bare, except for a van speeding off down the street toward the outskirts of the city. I’d go to her house; she was sure to be there. I opened the door of my car and got behind the wheel. “What the hell, why do people do that?”

  I rolled down my window and yanked the manila envelope out from under my windshield wiper. I was about to get back out and toss it into the trash when I saw my name had been scrawled across the middle of it. I racked my brain as to why someone would have put a legal-sized envelope on my car.

  It’s promotional material, probably someone that knows little Willie.

  I tossed it to the seat beside me and began driving around. I took it slowly by all the places I used to meet up with Alyson before finally getting to her place. Her car was in the driveway, where we had left it the day before. I knocked on the door and waited impatiently.

  Answer me, Aly.

  I knocked again and my phone vibrated in my pocket. “What,” I barked.

  “Did you like the pictures, Jake?”

  “What? What pictures? Who is this?” The phone line went dead. I stared at the device as it rested in my open palm. “Pictures?” Then it dawned on me: the envelope. I sprinted back to my car and tore open the envelope. Several eight by ten full colored pictures fell out into my lap. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel and looked at Alyson. Alyson with a split and bleeding lip, Alyson with hands around her throat, her face red and purple, and Alyson screaming on the floor with Donovan Droppa straddling her body. The glossy photographs crinkled into a ball in my fist. This was his retaliation against us taking out his man in Vegas.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I should have never let myself relax and feel comfortable. My life required me to always be on guard. I needed to get to Alyson. I felt my heart beating in my throat. What was Donovan doing to her, what had he already done to her? I couldn’t believe I’d fucked this up so badly. I vowed right there to make this right.

  Aly, I’m coming for you, baby girl.

  The tires squealed on the pavement and I sped down the road with no direction. Where would Droppa take her? Was she even in the state anymore? What if he’d done more than what those pictures showed? A car horn blared at me and my hands yanked the wheel to the right, spraying gravel out behind me as I nearly lost control.

  Donovan, I am going to kill you with my bare fucking hands.

  I took a deep breath and turned the car around, heading to Cole’s. I needed his help to get Alyson back into my arms safely. It would take everything I had in me to sit there and explain this to him, and even more strength to tell him he was right, but at this point, I’d cut off my own right arm to get her back. What I was more concerned about was the time I was wasting.

  His car was in the driveway when I pulled in. I took the wrinkled and creased pictures with me to the front door and pounded on the painted surface. “Cole, open up,” I yelled from the porch.

  “Jesus, Jake, you’re going to wake the baby,” hissed Sunny in a whispered tone as she swung open the front door.

  “Where’s Cole?” I pushed past her.

  “He’s in his office.”

  I didn’t waste time thanking my future sister-in-law for letting me in and made my way back through the house until I reached the double doors of Cole’s home office. “Cole, I need your help.”

  He looked up calmly, like he’d been expecting me at any time. “Now?”

  “Yes, fucking now.” I slammed the crumbled pictures to his desk. “Droppa has her.”

  He thumbed through the photographs, keeping the same calm exterior. I wanted to take him by the collar and shake him into action. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  My jaw clenched.

  Get off your ass and help me, damn it. Be the big brother you always claim to be.

  “Cole, I need you. I fucking love her, man. You don’t know what she’s been through. Donovan is going to kill her.”

  He stared at me. “She was going to destroy us, Jake.”

  “No, it’s not like that. She left the force, she dropped out. She told me last night, she loves me and we are what she wants. You may not believe that yet, but if we don’t find her and get her out of there, she will never have the opportunity to prove that to you.” I sighed when he still didn’t react. “Cole, remember how it was with Sunny, remember how you felt before, before you knew she loved you and how once you knew she was all you wanted, and you trusted her, just like that? I have that with Alyson. I’m begging you, as my brother, you have to help me out here. We have to save Alyson and prove to Donovan once and for all he is finished in this town.”

  Cole remained quiet, and I stood there with no more words, feeling like a child begging to be allowed to partake in an after-curfew party.

  “For the love of God, say something, Cole. Say no and send me on my own, I’ll get Willie and Angelo. Or say yes and be the man I know you are. If Droppa kills her, do you want that on your conscience every damn day? Can you look at Sunny and tell her you let her friend die?”

  Cole stood up. “Jake, I want to help.” He picked up the photos and shook them. “But I don’t know where Droppa is, so what the fuck am I going to do?”

  We both went silent when we heard the double doors creak open. “I know how we can find her.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes and glared at his fiancée. “Sunny, what’s going on?”

  “Jake, I am so sorry. I feel like this was partially my fault. I should have come clean with both of you when I found out Alyson was an undercover detective. I thought I had it under control. I made her call and quit.” She looked directly at me with tears in her eyes. “Jake, she did it willingly; really, she did it for you, because she loves you. I sat there and watched her. That’s how I know how we can find her.”

  “Sunny,” barked Cole, “just fucking tell us.”

  She laid her hand on her chest to steady her emotions. “When she called whomever she called, they made her go outside to an unmarked car and tell them she wasn’t under duress, that she was doing it of her own free will. Every time I go to her place, that car is still parked there. They’re still keeping tabs on her.”

  “Fuck, I was just at her place.” I slammed my fist on the desk.

  “Sunny, stay here, lock the doors, set the security system. I don’t want you or the baby out of this house until I say so. Do you understand?” Cole was moving out of the office as he spoke.

  “Jake, I am so sorry to have added to this friction. We should have left you to your own personal devices. I am sorry.” She held my hand.

  “Sunny, do you understand me?” Cole was yelling as he opened a drawer and pulled out a box, holding it under his arm.

  “Yes, yes. Lock up and set the system. I will. Please keep me posted,” she begged and then released my hand so I could join Cole.

  “You drive,” Cole said and we raced out to my parked car.

  We are coming, Aly. Hold on.

  “Slow the hell down,” hissed Cole. “We can’t help her if we get pulled over and held up by the cops.”

  I dropped the needle of the speedometer down to the legal speed limit as I made my way back to Alyson’s bungalow. Just as Sunny had said, there was an unmarked car, the same one I myself had seen several times and ignored, sitting across the road from her driveway. I drove past it and pulled up to the curb in front of it, let
ting the car idle.

  “Stay put.” Cole reached for the car door handle and got out, circling behind me and going to the driver side window of the car behind me. I watched him from the rearview mirror. His knuckles rapped on the man’s window and the man jumped, startled awake. He rolled the window down and Cole bent over, resting his arms on the roof’s edge of the door.

  I watched him use his charisma and charm as he conversed with the driver, and then I watched his hand shoot through the window and take a fistful of the man’s shirt, nearly dragging him out of the window and onto the pavement. The man was still not having it. And then I watched Cole open the door and wedge the man’s throat between the open car door and the door frame of the car’s body as he still held him by the shirt. The man’s eyes bulged with fear. I rolled down my window so I could hear what Cole was saying and how the man was responding.

  Cole, you badass.

  It struck me that if I was not around, Cole would have no problem being the heavy. A surge of pride rushed through me for my older brother. The man was flailing on his feet, pinned between the car and the door. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t hear what Cole was hissing in his ear. I was sure it wasn’t a friendly conversation. Cole released him and the man got back in the car, coughing and wiping the water away from his eyes. I watched as he picked up his cell phone and made a call, while Cole waited by the window. When he was done, Cole leaned close through the opened window, whispered something that made all the color drain from the man’s face, and then he stood back up, tapped on the roof of the car, and made his way back to my car.

  “He says her tracker led to your place.”

  I closed my eyes and slammed my fist on the steering wheel. “The second phone was a tracking phone, of course, damn it all to hell.” I felt my chest deflate, defeated.

  “They got a lock on her personal phone. He sang like a canary.” Cole laughed.

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be a stereotype, Cole.” I shifted the car into gear.

  “Where are you going? I haven’t even told you where she is yet.”

  I looked over to him as I drove. “You know where?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m taking you back to Sunny, then.”

  “Like hell you are. You need me to have your back,” he objected.

  “No, I need you to be with your family and make sure they’re safe. You think Droppa didn’t mark Sunny as a hit as well, and your kid?” I watched as Cole let this sink in, his face going pale, then burning red. “Stay home, be ready. As soon as I get her, we’re coming back here and we may not be alone. Call Willie and get him here too. We need to stay together in case they have additional measures in place.”

  “Droppa isn’t that smart, Jake. You know he operates out of anger and doesn’t think things through.” Cole kept his eyes on the driveway as I pulled in front of the house. He was searching for any signs of intruders.

  “Yeah, I know how he works, but he may not be alone in this, so we can’t be caught off guard again, Cole.” I implored him with my eyes to listen to me. My older brother proved to me tonight he could do my job; I needed him to believe that I could do his end of the family business as well.

  I let the engine idle and we sat there for a moment in silence. Cole wasn’t ready to concede. “Go to your fiancée and baby, Cole.”

  He nodded, and then he patted my shoulder, letting his hand linger and giving my muscle a firm squeeze. “We will be waiting here for you. Hurry back, brother.”

  My tire rubber burned against the pavement of the driveway. The lights of Cole’s house faded in my back window.

  Stay with me, Aly.

  19

  Alyson

  “Mmm, what time is it?”

  There was no answer.

  “Jake, you awake?” I mumbled, as my mind was half between waking and sleeping. I was freezing and my body was stiff. I wished he’d curl up and spoon with me to keep me warm.

  Jesus, what is that smell?

  I rolled to my side and cried out in pain. The memories came flooding back in a traumatic rush. It felt like a cinderblock was pressing down on my chest, and I could barely breathe. How long had I been down here? Two days? Donovan was waiting on Jake. How much longer would he keep me alive while he waited? What if he found out I was worthless?

  He hasn’t yet. You’re still alive.

  I rolled over to my opposite side. The chains wrapped around my ankles, attached to a vertical pipe in the wall, rattled. The sound echoed through the empty basement, bouncing off all the hard angles and corners. The musty, mold smell of the old cot mat beneath me filled my nostrils and I gagged. My bound wrists ached from chafing and hours of immobility. Nick had taken great delight in binding them and then securing them to a length of rope that encircled my waist, keeping me from being able to lift my arms more than a few inches in any one direction. I needed water and to use the bathroom. My sense of time was as deficient as my hydration. I lay there and tried to concentrate on any movement happening above me.

  Since my involuntary arrival, Nick and Donovan were joined by two other brutally muscular dipshits. They took turns checking on me, pushing me around and taking more pictures. The abuse continued in the form of slaps and a few punches; none seemed interested in pursuing the tactics Donovan had tried the first day, or maybe I’d blocked it out. I couldn’t be sure anymore what was real and what wasn’t. It was bad when they were here, it was worse when they weren’t.

  In the hours I was plunged into darkness and silence, it was as if I was in a deprivation tank. I would purposefully put pressure on my injuries to keep myself in the present reality, but being dehydrated and exhausted, my body wandered in and out of consciousness. My mind went to places I refused to see in my waking moments. My old house, the sound of my bedroom door creaking open in the middle of the night, silent footsteps behind me, the feeling of being held down, knowing I was too weak to fight back, hands over my mouth and nose. This was the worse torture, far more unbearable than Donovan and his cronies trying to inflict pain on me. Up to this point, they hadn’t done more than piss me off, but the hallucinations and dreams were traumatic, and I felt it would be easier if they’d just shoot me.

  A ray of light blinded me, and I shut my eyes tight against it and turned my face away. Someone was coming downstairs. I listened to the approaching footsteps. There were two of them. I was able to differentiate between the weight of the steps and the sound of the separate shoes, one soft soled, probably sneakers, and one hard, the cowboy boots that one wore and used to connect with my rib cage. Rough hands grabbed me and sat me up. I glared at Nick.

  “Picture time,” he cooed, like it was something exciting and I should be thrilled with this announcement.

  You’re a sick bastard.

  “Lenny, get over here. Donovan is getting pissed. If we don’t hear from Jake today, he says we get to start taking off her fingers. Maybe that will get his attention.”

  Oh dear God.

  Lenny, the cowboy-booted man, came over to me. He squatted down and forced me to look at him. His eyes were menacing. “I’m starting to think Jake Von Larsen is done with you. He’s moved on, looking for a better piece of ass. Too bad for you.” He pushed my face away hard enough that my head struck the wall behind me. “I’m not into leftovers, but if Jake is done with you, I can definitely use you up and be finished with you as his sloppy seconds. You’re still a fit and pretty bit of biddy.” He directed kissing noises at me before lapping at his lips, like I was a buffet of meat.

  I refocused my eyes on him. “That’s not true. Jake is going to kick all of your asses.”

  Both Lenny and Nick laughed. Nick knelt down and I shrank away. “I’d like to see him try. Lenny here is a world class cage fighter. Your boyfriend would be a whimpering puddle on the floor before he could throw one punch.”

  I spit at him.

  “Goddamn it, I am getting sick of this bitch.” His hand connected with my cheek and sent my head spinning. “Every freakin
g time I come down here, she spits at me.”

  I turned my face back and saw a smile playing on Lenny’s face. “We need to teach her a lesson in respect for authority.”

  “Yeah.” Nick jumped up and ran to the work bench. He took up a roll of duct tape and tore a long silver, sticky, mesh strip free. His fingers were harsh as he slammed the sticky tape over my bruised lips. I whimpered and struggled to pull my face away. “Try to do it now, bitch.”

  My eyes went wide as Nick stood there, self satisfied. It wasn’t his cocky stance I was staring at. It was Lenny, who was standing behind him. The bigger my eyes got, the more joyous Nick became. “Look at her, look at her, scared little rabbit.”

  What are you doing with that chainsaw?

  Lenny took a step toward me. The dirty, old chainsaw was held in a single hand as his other hand toyed with the gas cap. He turned the oil-stained, chunky plastic cap in his fingertips and lifted it away, peering through the exposed hole into the tank. A deviant smile spread across his mouth. “Looks like a full tank,” he said with no emotion. “We got hours of fun right here in front of us with this thing, Nicky my boy.”

  “Huh?” Nick looked back. “Oh hell no, what do you plan to do with that, Lenny? Donovan didn’t approve that.” Nick’s eyes matched the size of my own now.

  “I don’t give a fuck what Donovan approves. Where is he? Not here.”

  Lenny was insane. I pulled my body to the end of the stained mat, clinging to the wall and the pipe my feet were chained to.

  “Lenny, come on now. You know he won’t like this.” Nick stood up, leaving me shrinking away, making my form as small as I could so that it would fit into the safety of the corner.