“Thanks.” Ivy started through the book, found the number and dialed.
Ten minutes later, she was standing out by the road when a white wrecker that had seen better days pulled to a stop. A man with a grease stain on his cheek leaned toward the passenger window. “You Ivy?”
Ivy didn’t bother introducing herself. She opened the door and climbed in the front seat beside the driver. “You take VISA?”
* * * *
Now that she was back on the road, Ivy focused on completing her mission to rescue her sister. Every day that she spent looking for Heather was money out of her pocket. Not only was she worried that Heather had gone too far this time, Ivy had clients waiting to find their kids. If Ivy didn’t find the kids, she didn’t get paid. If she didn’t get paid, she couldn’t pay her rent. And on it goes … life’s little merry-go-round.
She flew past the motel they had stayed in last night and on toward the lakefront. This had been the direction that Holt had been headed so this was the way she was going to follow.
Ivy shifted in her seat. She could still feel the soreness between her legs from last night’s exercise. “You’d better watch out, Holt Raven, because you are going to be my next case.”
Ivy pulled into the little town of Crystal View. It was a quaint small town, set up to snare tourists. Ivy pulled into a parking spot in front of an antique shop. She shut off the engine and closed her eyes for a moment. “How am I going to play this?” she whispered.
Part of being a private detective was being an actor. Certain people wouldn’t talk to her, wouldn’t open up, unless she played it a certain way. Tough, sweet, innocent or worldly. It all depended. She opened her eyes and got out of the car.
Ivy began to stroll down the sidewalk, giving the impression that she was window-shopping. She was, but not for what was for sale behind the sparkling glass. She was shopping for a ‘talker’. Someone who expressed an interest in her, a curiosity that would be enough for her to start up a conversation. Maybe get some information out of them that would help her find out if Bloody Hell was docked here. The name of the boat alone stood out enough that if it was here, surely someone would know about it.
Ivy stopped in front of a store that sold moccasins. She peered into the window. There was a woman behind a small counter in the back, head down as if she were reading. No one else was in the store. The door was propped open and Ivy could hear what sounded like some sort of Indian music playing softly inside. She hitched her pack up on her shoulder and walked inside.
Ivy strolled along one wall that was littered with all sizes and styles of moccasins, from ankle height to knee boots. She fingered the fringe on a pair of knee boots, glancing at the woman out of the corner of her eye.
The woman looked up and smiled. She moved around the edge of the counter and started for Ivy.
Ivy hid her smile and tilted her head, looking at the boot as if she was interested enough to buy.
“How are you today?” the woman asked, coming up beside Ivy. “Can I help you find something?”
Ivy turned and smiled. “Maybe.” She moved along the wall, touching moccasins as she went.
“We have a large assortment of styles. Any size you’d like,” the woman said, following her.
“I’m not quite sure what I want,” Ivy said.
The woman sighed. “To tell the truth, we haven’t been selling much lately.”
Ivy looked at her. “Business bad?”
The woman shook her head. “Yeah. It’s too hot. People don’t want to buy moccasins when it’s hot.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, where are you from?”
Ivy laughed. “I look like a tourist, huh? I’m from Chicago.”
“Chicago.” The woman nodded. “My husband has family there. I don’t think I’d like living there though. Too many people.”
“You get used to it.” Ivy shifted her pack. “You know, a friend of mine is supposed to be in this area this week.”
“Really?”
“She’s supposed to be docked here. They’re traveling around the coast of Lake Michigan.”
The woman put a finger to her lips. “Well, maybe I can help you. My husband is the harbormaster for Crystal View. What’s the name of the boat?”
Ivy smiled widely. Gotcha, she thought. “It’s a strange name. Meant to catch your attention,” she said, wondering if the name of the boat would cancel any information Ivy could gain. “The name of the boat is Bloody Hell.”
The woman laughed. “That sure gets your attention, alright. Let me make a phone call and I’ll see if any boat by that name has called in for a mooring.” She raised a finger and headed back toward the counter. “I’ll be right back.”
Ivy nodded and wandered around the store while the woman dialed the phone. Ivy moved to the front window and looked out on the street. People were beginning to mill around. Most looked like tourists. Women in white short sets with coordinating visors stuck on their heads. Men with potbellies and skinny white legs sticking out of khaki shorts. Most with gray hair. Ivy crossed her arms and waited. Then a man walked by. A very familiar man. It was Colin, Holt’s friend.
Ivy sucked in a breath and stepped back from the window.
Too late. He had seen her. He stopped in front of the window, recognition flashing in his eyes.
“Shit,” Ivy muttered. She moved back to the wall of moccasins and pretended to shop.
“Hello, Ivy,” Colin said.
Ivy turned and sighed. “Colin.”
He was looking at her intently. “I am surprised to see you.”
Anger flared inside her. “What? Holt thought I’d just stay tucked away in that little motel? Didn’t think I could take care of myself and get my car out of the ditch? Didn’t think I could follow you?” Her voice rose with each question. She scolded herself. Glancing toward the woman who was still on the phone, Ivy told herself to calm down. She didn’t want to blow her chance to get information.
“I don’t know what happened between you two,” Colin said, “but I’m sure that Holt didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“Yeah. Right.” Ivy began to walk toward the woman who was just hanging up the phone. “See you later, Colin.” She kept walking, hoping that he would leave. When she reached the counter, she chanced a look back. He was gone. As if he’d never been there.
“Someone you know?” the woman asked.
“Not really,” Ivy said. “Did you find anything out for me?”
“Yes.” She placed a piece of paper on the counter. “Bloody Hell moored offshore two days ago. The captain reserved the mooring for the first night, then came back in and reserved it for three more nights. So it looks like they’ll be here for at least today and tomorrow. They’ll probably leave the day after that unless they reserve another night.”
Ivy took the paper from her and looked at it. “Ramsey is listed as the captain? I wondered if he was still on board.”
The woman’s brows drew together. “I assumed he was the owner.”
“No.” Ivy shook her head. “My friend Catharine is the owner. She hires someone to captain the boat for her.” Ivy shoved the paper into her pocket. “Cathy loves the water but has no clue how to drive a boat.”
The woman nodded and smiled. “I wouldn’t either.” She moved out from behind the counter and toward the door. “I’ll point you in the right direction.”
At the door of the store, the woman pointed down the street to the right. “If you go to the corner and take a right, just go two blocks and you’ll be at the docks. The harbormaster is in the center of the dock area on the shore. It’s a small blue building. Go in and ask for Harold. Tell him that Marsha sent you.” She smiled. “That’s me. Harold is my husband.”
Ivy grinned. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and tell him to radio out to Bloody Hell so they can come in and pick you up in the dinghy.”
Ivy hesitated. “I’d rather surprise them. Is there some way I could get out there to the boat without calling
them?”
Marsha nodded. “Sure. Just tell Harold that you want to rent a runabout. Can you drive a boat?”
Ivy smiled crookedly. “If it’s not too big.”
Marsha flapped a hand at her. “You’ll be fine. Just tell Harold I said to show you the best route and give you a crash course.”
“Thanks so much,” Ivy said, stepping out onto the sidewalk. “They’ll be surprised when I show up.”
“Have a good day,” Marsha called after her.
Ivy started walking back toward her car. She narrowed her eyes against the glare of the sun shining on the concrete. Oh yeah, she thought. Heather is going to get a big surprise when I show up.
* * * *
Holt clenched his hands into fists. “She’s here? You saw her?”
Colin nodded. “She was inside a shop. She seemed … angry that she had been left behind.” Colin crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair.
Holt paced the floor of the suite that he had booked in the hotel, one he had paid extra for so that they could get inside before check in. The suite consisted of two rooms, one a bedroom with two queen-size beds, the other a living room/kitchen/dining room combination. They needed to stay off the streets as much as possible until dark. The only reason he had sent Colin out was to scope out the area to look for the most liking bar the vampires would frequent. Bars were easy pickings for vampires. Get the mark drunk, then take them back to wherever the vamp was hiding and bleed them dry. Holt had not expected Colin to run into Ivy.
“Why didn’t she stay put!” He brought his fist down on the small round table that served as a dining table.
Rogue sat on the couch, hands linked behind his head. “Why are you so all-fired pissed about her being here? She said she was looking for the boat. She may be one of them, you know. Ever think of that?”
Holt bore down on Rogue, stopping in front of him. “She is not one of them.”
Rogue raised his hands, palms up. “Okay. She’s not. But what is the reason she’s looking for Bloody Hell, then?”
Holt pressed his lips together. He was going to have to tell them sooner or later. “One of the humans … the female … is her sister.”
“I see,” Colin said. “Is she planning on joining her sister? As in, ‘joining up with the Clutch’?”
Holt shook his head. “No. She’s planning on taking her sister off the boat.”
Rogue snorted. “That’ll be a trick. Especially if the Clutch wants to keep her.”
That was what Holt had been thinking about ever since Ivy had told him about her sister. That … and the fact he felt like a total jerk for leaving Ivy like he did. “Well, we can’t let Ivy get to the boat,” he said, running a hand over his eyes.
“How do you plan to stop her?” Colin asked.
Holt met Colin’s eyes. “You’re going to kidnap her.”
Colin shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not me.”
“Me either,” Rogue said. “That woman has too much bite.”
Holt sighed, exasperated. He was going to have to do it himself. “All right. I’ll do it, though I didn’t want to show myself in daylight.”
He headed for the bedroom. After searching his duffel bag, he was more agitated yet. What was he going to use to secure her?
“Hey,” he called out, “either of you got a set of handcuffs or something?”
Rogue came to the doorway. “I’ve got some. You need them?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to have some way to restrain her so I can get her back here.”
“All right, but I’ll bet she’ll fight,” Rogue said, opening his suitcase.
“I’m bigger than she is,” Holt said.
Rogue handed Holt a set of handcuffs. “Good luck anyway.”
Holt rattled the handcuffs in his hand. It was going to be a trick to get them on her, and then get her back to the suite without getting arrested. He took a deep breath. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with her. But it was too late now.
Something had to be done to keep her safe.
*
Rogue eyed Holt. He was juggling the handcuffs in his hand. His face was a mask of intensity. Strange, Rogue thought. After a moment, Holt stormed out of the room, leaving Rogue and Colin on their own.
“What is up with him?” Rogue asked Colin.
“I don’t know. I’ve never quite seen him like this.”
Rogue stared at the door. “You think maybe the love bug has bit him or something?” Rogue couldn’t fathom Holt in love. Of course, he couldn’t imagine himself truly in love either. It would have to be one hell of a woman to capture his own heart. But then, would he ever find such a woman? Rogue was beginning to wonder.
It was very possible that Holt had been snared. They’d just have to wait and see.
* * * *
Ivy knocked on the window that was set in the door of the tiny harbormaster’s office.
A man, Harold she assumed, opened the door and came out onto the step. “Help you?”
“Hi,” Ivy said, using her most innocent smile, “I just spoke to your wife a little while ago. About the boat Bloody Hell?” She held out her hand. “I’m Ivy.”
Harold shook her hand and smiled but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Marsha called me, yeah. You got people on the boat?”
Ivy nodded. “Friend of mine.”
“I’ll radio out and have them come in.” He turned to go inside.
Ivy reached out and touched his arm. “Wait.”
He turned.
“I want to surprise them. Marsha said to ask if there was something that I could rent so I could go out there and surprise them?”
“Can’t do that,” he said.
“Why?”
Harold crossed his arms over his chest and rested them on the ledge of his ample belly. “Bloody Hell left instructions that they don’t want disturbed. In Crystal View, we follow what orders captains give us about someone approaching their boat unannounced.”
Ivy’s heart sank. Dammit. “Not even if I’m a friend of theirs? They told me to meet them here.”
“They did?”
“Uh-huh.” A flicker of hope perked her up. She batted her eyelashes at Harold, hoping if she looked innocent enough, he would give in. Knowing it was hard to look innocent when you were wearing ripped jeans and had spiked hair.
“Let me check my notes. Maybe they left something about you coming. What’s your name again?”
“Ivy Green.”
He let out a laugh. “Your momma must have had a sense of humor.” He turned and went inside.
Ivy bit her tongue before she shot back at him with a snide remark about the size of his belly. God, she hated it when people made comments about her name. Maybe when this was over, she’d change it.
Harold came back, holding a clipboard. He shook his head. “Nope. Nothing on here except no one is to approach without radioing first.” He looked at her. “Can’t help you. Unless you want me to radio them.”
Ivy bit her lip and shook her head. “No. I’ll figure something out. I really want to surprise them.”
“All right then.” Harold turned away and went inside his little building, closing the door behind him.
Ivy looked out over the docks, wondering what her next move should be. There were over one hundred boats docked directly at the docks. More out on moorings in the bay. Any kind of boat that you would want to see from sailboats to yachts. She wandered toward the docks, walking along the edge of the water. Raising her hand to shade her eyes, she squinted out over the bay. Which one was Bloody Hell?
She glanced at her watch. Good grief, it was almost four o’clock. She needed something to eat but the first order of business was finding a bathroom.
Ivy walked along the docks until she came to a sidewalk that led to a concrete block building. It had a sign posted on it. ‘Showers/Bathroom’. Ivy headed straight for it, really having to empty her bladder now that a bathroom was in sight.
She entered the women’s side
, quickly did her thing and walked back out, thinking that she’d walk along the docks and see if there wasn’t someone who would be willing to take her out to Bloody Hell in their boat. She swung her pack around and rummaged inside, looking for a piece of gum.
Suddenly, she was shoved back into the men’s side of the restroom.
“Hey!” She said, struggling against a large chest. Whirled around, a hand clamped over her mouth. The guy pressed her against him and moved her inside the handicapped stall.
Ivy fought, kicking, trying to bite. Her fingernails dug into the arm that held her.
“Stop it,” a familiar voice hissed in her ear.
Holt. Ivy stopped her struggling. She was only wasting energy anyway. She made herself still.
“Don’t say a word,” Holt breathed into her ear.
Ivy nodded.
“I’m going to uncover your mouth. If you say one thing, I’m going to gag you,” he warned.
Ivy didn’t move. Other than her nipples hardening as soon as she realized it was Holt who was holding her. Holt removed his hand from her mouth.
“Good.” He slid her pack off her shoulder and placed it on the floor. Then he pulled her arms behind her.
“This isn’t the cleanest place to have sex,” Ivy whispered.
Holt’s hands froze. “We’re not going to have sex. Now stop talking.”
Ivy felt something cold against her wrist, and then something snapped shut around it. Adrenaline surged through her. Before she could react, her other wrist was captured in cold metal. “Handcuffs?” she asked.
“Quiet. I will gag you.” Then he turned her around.
His face was stern, his eyes daring her to speak. Ivy looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re going to come with me and you’re going to be quiet. You’re not going to let on that you’re handcuffed to anyone we pass. You’ll go with me with no fight. As soon as we get to where we’re going, I’ll explain,” he said, then pointed his finger directly between her eyes, “but until then, you’re going to act like you want to be with me. Do I make myself clear?”
Holt the Interceptor Page 7