“Fair enough.”
I wriggled my feet into my sandals and we raced silently through the open space to the shadow of a concrete block building.
“Office?” I whispered.
Sage shook her head. “Storage, I bet. The office would be in the front, don’t you think?”
I nodded. We pressed ourselves against the side of the building and crept forward, headed toward the main entrance, so we could see when the men came in. As we reached the end of the small, square building, I grabbed Sage’s arm. Between the building and the first row of storage bays, there was a paved rectangle designated as ‘Employee Parking’ by a sign stuck in the ground. There were five vehicles parked in the small lot: a white BMW with the vanity plate “H3RQL35” (which was apparently as close to ‘Hercules’ as he could manage under the byzantine motor vehicle regulations); a nondescript sedan; the resort pickup truck; a white panel van; and a gleaming black Lincoln with D.C. tags.
“Suit guy is here,” she breathed.
“And Mom and Dad.”
We ducked behind a big metal Dumpster. I pulled out my cell phone and texted Victor to let him know we were inside and how many cars were in the lot. As I was stowing the phone back in my pocket, I heard the crackle of the intercom as an unseen someone in the office answered.
“What do you want?”
‘Herk’ I mouthed. Sage nodded. We’d both recognize his coarse, gravelly voice anywhere. After all, he’d left us near-daily voicemails full of increasingly rash and enraged threats in the first weeks after our parents skipped out on their debt.
A few seconds later Dave’s voice rang out, loud in the still evening air. “My two buddies and I have a fishing boat we need to store come winter. We wanted to see if you have any spots that might work for us.”
It seemed to take Herk a long time to respond. I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
Finally, he said, “I’ll open the gate. Pull around to the office. I’m getting ready to leave for the night and it’s probably too dark see the spots well, but I’ll give you some brochures and take a deposit to secure your spot.”
“Sounds great,” Dave enthused.
After a few seconds, the gate arm swung up, and Dave inched the Camry forward. Sage and I stayed in the shadows and watched our boyfriends and Dave exit the car and head toward the office. My heart was thudding crazily. I had to stop myself from running after them. I spared a glance at Sage. She looked to be fighting the same urge.
Victor stopped just before the threshold and looked over his shoulder. I couldn’t imagine that he could see us in the lengthening shadows, but he seemed to be looking straight at me. He flashed a smile in our direction then followed Roman and Dave into the office.
As soon as they disappeared I turned to Sage and said, “They’ll be okay in there, right?”
“Absolutely. I have no doubt the three of them can handle themselves against one scumbag like Herk the Jerk.”
She sounded so confident. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the other two cars in the lot. Who knew how many people were here or where their loyalties might lie?
Just then the office door banged open and a bald giant of a man, his arms laden with packaged snack foods and bottled waters, stalked through the doorway. I assumed he’d head for one of the cars, but instead he wound his way through the rows of RVs, trailers, and boats squeezed into tight parking spots and headed for the metal structure located at the opposite back corner of the storage yard from where we’d come in.
Sage nudged me. “Why would somebody take a bunch of food and water to a storage shed?”
I stared at her. “I can only think of one reason.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s go.”
So we darted across the vast open yard. Our route was more circuitous then the man’s because we were zigzagging from vehicle to vehicle, crouching behind trailers and pressing ourselves up against the sides of campers in case he turned around. Luckily, he was moving slowly. Whether his lack of speed was a function of everything he was carrying or his lumbering size, it was easy to keep up with him.
Finally, he stopped in front of the very last unit in the backmost row of attached, metal storage pods. It was the furthest from the office and the main gate. The logical place to stash something or someone you were trying to keep hidden. He balanced the bottled waters and packages of crackers and cookies in the crook of one arm, as he jiggled a key into a large padlock.
I squeezed Sage’s arm. “She’s in there.”
“I know. But what’s our move?”
Our move? I had no flipping idea. I could finesse my way over a fence. But that was the full extent of my rescue team abilities. On the edge of panicking, part of me wanted to call Dave and the guys. But the rational part of my brain knew their best contribution right now was keeping Herk occupied and out of our way.
Before I could formulate a plan, the man successfully opened the padlock. As it banged against the metal door, he lost his grip on his armload of provisions. Several bottles of water tumbled to the ground. He cursed loudly in what sounded like a Slavic language then aimed a solid kick at the door.
“He has a temper,” Sage observed as he stooped to gather up the items.
While he rolled up the door, Sage and I crept closer. Out of nowhere a thunderous bang filled the air. The sound ricocheted off the metal walls and echoed through the storage yard. Gunshots? An explosion? I couldn’t tell.
The man tossed aside the food and drink he was carrying and dropped to the ground, covering his face with his arms.
Chapter 22
Rosemary
When I heard the man crunching over the gravel, I’d passed out the broken halves of the antacid tablets—four halves each to Mom, Dad, and Special Agent Morgan. I kept six halves for my bottle. We dropped them into the four empty water bottles we’d set aside and then I poured half a bottle of the hottest water we had into each bottle.
“Tighten the cap then shake,” I whispered when I heard the key in the padlock.
I waited for the door to roll up, my fizzing water bottle in hand. But something must have gone awry outside because there was a lot of banging, swearing in a foreign language, and a resounding kick aimed at the door. So, we just kept shaking. In the end, it was that delay that served us so well.
By the time the metal door rose and the man stepped into view, the pressure in our bottles had reached maximum capacity.
I threw my bottle at his feet and, even though I’d obviously known the launch was coming, when the water bottle shot up from the floor and exploded loudly against the roof of the storage unit, I froze. It was a spectacular display, if I do say so myself.
The man yelped and rolled himself into a ball on the ground, protecting his eyes as if he expected flares or smoke bombs.
As soon as he was down, I shouted, “Now!”
I ran past him as Mom, Dad, and Special Agent Morgan tossed the three backup rockets we’d made on the ground near him. Then we sprinted away from the pod as all three water bottles rocked and, one after another, soared into the sky. At least one of them broke apart from the force of the reaction, and bits of plastic and hot, bubbling water rained down on our captor.
“Where’s the pickup?” I called to my father, looking around wildly.
“I don’t know where they put it, honey.” He gave me a helpless look.
I turned back to see if the truck might be parked behind the storage unit. It wasn’t, but my timing was perfect and I got to watch Special Agent Morgan stop beside our captor and put his foot down firmly on the man’s back. “You have the right to remain silent,” he began.
First, I gaped in amazement that Colin Morgan, who’d been captured by the baseball bat-wielding thug, after all, had screwed up his courage to apprehend the man. If I had to guess, the adrenaline pouring through his body in the wake of the explosions and our escape had spurred him to action.
Next, I wondered if an IRS computer guy could really official
ly Mirandize a suspect. But I quickly decided the legalities, such as they were, fell squarely under ‘Not My Problem.’
Just then, Sage and Thyme emerged from behind a gleaming silver trailer. I blinked, shook my head, and stared at them in disbelief.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
My parents turned and saw Thyme and Sage. Dad’s mouth fell open.
“Girls!” Mom said, shocked. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“We’re rescuing you,” Sage informed me.
“Oh. Well, you’re a little late. We just rescued ourselves.”
She laughed. “What was that commotion, anyway?”
“Remember when I showed Skylar and Dylan how to make a rocket with water and baking soda?”
“Sure.” She gave me a quizzical look. “You exploded water bottles?”
“More or less,” I told her.
“Wait, where’d you get baking soda?” Thyme wanted to know.
“Dad’s antacids.”
“Chemistry saves the day, eh?” Thyme said with a grin. Then she dangled a set of keys hanging from a rental company keychain. “How about a ride back to the resort?”
Dad’s eyes bulged out. “Yes, let’s get out of here. Special Agent Morgan can handle that thug. We need to vamoose before Herk comes out to see what all the racket is. I’m surprised he’s not out here already, to be honest.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Dad,” Thyme said. “The guys are taking care of Herk.”
I froze. “The guys? Our guys?”
“Yep. Dave, Roman, and Victor are in Herk’s office, pretending to be interested in renting a storage spot. Let’s get a safe distance away—there’s a gas station across the road. Then we’ll stop and call to let the guys know you’re safe. They’ll extricate themselves, and your new friend can arrest Herk and his henchman while we’re all back at the resort, toasting marshmallows over the fire pit,” Sage said with a smile.
I dug my bare toes into the ground. “I’m not leaving them here.”
“Rosie, they’re distracting Herk specifically so we can get you out of here,” Thyme explained in a patient voice.
“I don’t care. I’m not leaving without Dave,” I insisted petulantly. Now that the immediate danger was over, I was trembling with emotion. And there was simply no way I was going anywhere without Dave.
After a moment, Sage nodded. “You’ve had a difficult day. We’ll do this your way. Thyme, why don’t you take Mom and Dad home. I’ll wait here with Rosemary.”
Mom and Dad exchanged glances over my head. Then my mother said, “No. This has gone on long enough. Let’s go talk to Herk.”
It was clear she was talking specifically to our dad, but Sage, Thyme, and I tripped along behind them. I ended up in between my sisters. Wordlessly, we entwined our elbows, just as we had when they’d walked me down the aisle hours earlier during the wedding rehearsal.
“Thanks for coming for me,” I said softly.
“As if we wouldn’t,” Sage answered with a smile.
“Yeah, how could we have a wedding without the bride? You don’t think we made all those favor bags for our health, do you?” Thyme cracked.
I laughed, but it occurred to me that Thyme had inherited Dad’s stupid jokes gene.
Behind us, Special Agent Morgan was hauling our now subdued captor, who was apparently named Yuri, toward the office as well. It was shaping up to be quite a party.
Chapter 23
Sage
We trooped into Herk’s office, where he was apparently giving the guys the hard sell on an enclosed storage spot. Judging by the bored expression on Roman’s face, the spiel had been going on for a while.
“Rosemary!” Dave shouted.
She flew across the room and buried her face in his chest. He circled his arms around her and pulled her tight.
“Yuri!” Herk roared.
Herk and Yuri’s reunion was somewhat less tender than Rosemary and Dave’s. The sulking hulk of a man glowered silently from his spot just inside the door while Herk pounded on his desk and demanded that Yuri do something about us.
While Herk sputtered, my parents worked the room, pumping first Roman’s and then Victor’s hand in an enthusiastic greeting. (Dave was still otherwise occupied reuniting with his betrothed.)
Thyme and Special Agent Morgan were having a loud, animated discussion about Herk’s many financial crimes.
As a rule, I don’t have a lot of sympathy for Herk but I could certainly relate to the sour expression on his face. All the shouting and frenzied activity in the tight, cramped space gave me an instant headache. So, like a modern-day Mary Poppins, I dug into my bottomless nanny bag of tricks to solve the problem.
I reached over and flipped the light switch on the wall. Off. On. Off.
Instant silence followed. I smiled to myself and turned the lights back on. That little move always worked like a charm. It was as foolproof as my second-favorite way to quell a din: whispering. Which is what I did next.
“People, let’s calm down and talk one at a time,” I suggested in a hushed tone so everyone had to strain to hear me. “I think we should start with introductions.”
I cut my eyes to Special Agent Morgan.
“I’m Colin Morgan, SA-CIS with the IRS. Mr. Andrenko here has had his rights read to him and has wisely decided to zip his lips until the local police arrive.”
“You called the cops?” I asked, worried.
“Not yet,” he answered just loud enough for me to hear. “Although Yuri did return my cell phone. I figure I’ll wait until you and your parents have left to bring in the boys in blue.”
My eyes widened. “What are you saying?”
He blushed. “I’ve been fairly obsessed with nabbing your parents. But having spent some time trapped in a metal box with them and your sister, they suddenly seem real to me. And they risked everything to come to her wedding—a wedding they weren’t even invited to. It doesn’t seem right to haul them off before they get a chance to see her walk down the aisle.”
“You mean, you’ll let them come to the wedding?”
He nodded. “We talked through it while we were stuck in the pod. I’m going to stick pretty close to them, just so they don’t get a sudden urge to travel. But my department doesn’t even know I’m here. I was doing this on my own time. Tomorrow, after you’ve all had a chance to celebrate, I’ll take them in.”
My face must have fallen a bit at the phrase ‘take them in,’ because he hurriedly added, “I don’t think they’ll do much, if any jail time. They’re ready to face the music, accept responsibility, and make restitution.”
“They are?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. I mean, my parents are loveable, old hippies, but they’ve never been paragons of virtuous responsibility.
He nodded. “They are.”
Herk was squinting at us. “So, if you’re finished chatting up your lady friend, G-Man, I’m wondering what business you have with me? Do I need to call my tax attorney?”
Everything about Herk was oily. His voice, his hair, his very manner. I felt a small, involuntary shiver of disgust creep along my spine at his extreme unctuousness.
Special Agent Morgan stared at Herk for a long moment then said, “My colleagues on the Organized Crime Task Force will have all sorts of ‘business’ with you. But your primary concern should be the multiple kidnapping charges you’ll be facing. So, to answer your question, you shouldn’t bother calling your tax attorney, but you better hope you have a criminal defense attorney on speed dial.”
Dad cleared his throat. Nobody paid any attention to him. So then he fake coughed. No reaction.
“Dad wants to say something,” I announced.
Everyone crammed into the room turned to face my father as best they could.
“Thanks, honey.” He smiled nervously. “First of all, thank you all for coming together to look for Rosemary. My daughters are lucky to have one another, and you men, to rely on, especially while their mother and I have
been out of reach.” He paused and squared his shoulders. “Mary Jane and I came here in an effort to rescue Rosemary because we know we’re responsible for putting her in this situation—”
“Does that mean you have my ransom money after all?” Herk asked.
I’d always thought ‘he made my skin crawl’ was just an expression. But, nope. My skin actually felt as if it were crawling with creepy, crawly things when Herk spoke. He was so vile.
“No, Herk, there’s no money for you,” my mom said, jutting out her chin. “But we’ve made a decision. Instead of treating our financial situation like a shameful secret we have to hide, we’re going to bring it all out into the open. All of it.”
Dad picked up the thread. “That means your pressure tactics, your threats and blackmail, will all become public knowledge, Herk. So even if the people of Seashore didn’t already know the kind of man you are, they definitely will going forward.”
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it, but Herk’s face grew ruddy and flushed. He was embarrassed. The moment passed quickly and morphed into rage.
“I’ll ruin you,” he promised.
My dad smiled beatifically. “Goodbye, Herk.”
“Can we leave?” Mom asked Special Agent Morgan.
He nodded. “Just remember our agreement. Go right back to the resort and stay there. I’ll be along as soon as the police are done here. Rosemary, they’re going to need to interview you, of course. Actually, they’ll probably want to talk to all of you. But I can throw my federal law enforcement weight around to convince them to wait until after the reception tomorrow.”
Rosemary grinned. “Thanks. And try to wrap it up quickly here, Special Agent Morgan. It’s going to be all hands on deck in the kitchen tonight.”
Chapter 24
Thyme
For someone who didn’t want help with her cake, Rosemary sure seemed to be enjoying having a team in her kitchen. Dad had uncorked a couple bottles of wine, and Mom had fired up her folk music playlist. Sage and Roman were slow dancing to some Carole King song and generally getting in the way. I thought someone should remind them that they were supposed to be juicing lemons, but I held my tongue.
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