Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries)

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Harley Rushes In (Book 2 of the Blue Suede Mysteries) Page 22

by Brown, Virginia


  “Where are you going?” Madelyn sounded panicked. “You’re not going to leave us here alone, are you?”

  “I sent the police to the shop, so if Aunt Darcy’s there, she’ll be just fine. I’ll check the pool house and lock it. Turn on your alarm when I go out, and—”

  “Don’t you dare leave us, Harley Jean Davidson! You started this mess, and you’d better stay right here with us until we’re safe.”

  Madelyn looked downright vicious. Her thin nose quivered, her lips were drawn back over her perfect white teeth, and she looked as if she really might bite at any moment. A definite improvement from her usual haughty expression.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I could wait until Aunt Darcy arrives. We can pass all that free time catching up on the past few years.”

  That last suggestion was met with a less than enthusiastic response, so Harley ended up going around checking all the doors and windows with her cousins bunched behind her like two scared mice. Safety in numbers seemed to be their watchword for the day.

  Just as she was ready to suggest they find a more constructive way to wait, the sound of a car arriving in the circular driveway broke the tension.

  “It’s Mama,” Amanda said from the front window, and Madelyn rushed to open the door as her sister added, “Oh, and she has someone with her.”

  The hair on the back of Harley’s neck stood up, and she started toward the entrance hall with her Mace and cell phone handy. “Wait,” she said, but it was too late. Madelyn had opened the door for her mother and the man Harley knew as Bernie.

  Darcy looked catatonic. There was no expression at all on her face, and Harley realized it was the look of an animal caught in a trap—numb futility. Bernie, however, was quite animated.

  “You said it’s here, so you better get it,” he said to Darcy in a distinctly unpleasant tone. “Now move!” He jabbed her in the back with the barrel of a gun, while Madelyn and Amanda squealed as he slammed the front door closed.

  About the time Harley decided it’d be more prudent for her not to be noticed, he saw her.

  “You—biker chick—get your ass over here.”

  Palming her Mace, Harley thumbed what she hoped was the speed dial for 911 on her cell phone as she reluctantly walked toward them. Holding her hands behind her back, she edged close enough to satisfy him, but hopefully just out of reach.

  “How nice to see you again, Bernie. No need for guns. We’re all cooperating. Aren’t we, Aunt Darcy, Maddie, Mandy? Fontaines are always co—”

  “Shut up. Get over here with the other two. Now!”

  He didn’t look at all agreeable. She edged closer. His free hand lashed out to grab her by the arm, and her cell phone flew from her hand to land on the floor. It went in several different directions at once. Reacting, she sprayed the Mace at him, jerking free at the same time. The spray caught him on the side of his face and back of his head, not exactly as effective as she’d have liked. Still, it was enough to make him let go of her but not the gun. Instead, he slapped a hand to his eyes and hollered words Harley had never heard before.

  Shaking his head, he turned his gun in her direction and said a few words she had heard before. Blinking as his eyes got all teary, he gave her a watery glare. “Think you’re smart, don’t you? Give me that spray or I’ll put a bullet in you.”

  That seemed like a fair trade. She promptly handed it over. Aunt Darcy and her cousins huddled together as if for protection, cowering against the wall. They looked at her as if she could do something, but she’d temporarily run out of ideas. The cell phone and Mace had been her only weapons. Now she had to depend on her wits, so that meant she was in big trouble.

  “Girls, I’m sorry,” Aunt Darcy was saying. “I didn’t know what else to do but bring him here. He kept telling me I have something he wants—”

  “Don’t talk to each other,” Bernie snapped, wiping at his red face.

  “Want me to get a cold cloth for your face?” Harley offered. “You’re getting all red.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. It won’t take but a minute to go to the kitchen and—”

  “Shut up! All of you get in the kitchen. Now!”

  He herded them into the kitchen, and keeping the gun on them, rummaged through a few drawers, dumping contents on the floor as he searched. He came up with a ball of thick twine and tossed it at Harley.

  “Okay, biker chick. Tie them up tight. I’ll check, so better make sure you do it right or they’ll wish you had.”

  The inference he made with the waggle of the gun set her right to work. Aunt Darcy had come out of her daze, but was shivering with terror.

  “Is he going to kill us?” she whimpered.

  “I hope not. Sorry I have to do this, but—”

  “Stop talking,” Bernie snarled. “Just do what I told you to do.”

  Harley finished in silence, tying them as loosely as she dared, but still tight enough that it would take them a while to work free. If they were left alone to do so. Bernie had to be after something that he thought Frieda had hidden. It couldn’t be the smuggled goods, which he had to know the police had seized by now. What would be so important he’d take all these risks? So important he’d kill to get it? It could only be one thing.

  As she stood up slowly, she said, “Are you looking for invoices or a ledger?”

  Bernie narrowed his reddened eyes at her. “Yeah. You know where it is?”

  “I’m pretty sure I do.”

  “Pretty sure ain’t good enough.”

  “But it’s a lot better than looking in all the wrong places like you’re doing. Darcy doesn’t have anything. She didn’t even know exactly what Harry was up to with all those illegal imports. It was just by accident that she found anything. But I know where it’s hidden.”

  He looked at her for a minute as if trying to decide if she was lying. She put on her most truthful expression and hoped for the best. After a moment, he gave an abrupt nod. “Okay, tell me where it is.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’ll have to show you. You’re obviously in a hurry and can’t waste much time. But you can’t hurt my aunt and cousins. That’s the deal.”

  He brought up his pistol. Light from the windows gleamed dully on the barrel. Harley had a moment of panic that left her lightheaded. He had no reason to take her anywhere. All he had to do was shoot one of her cousins or her aunt, and she’d tell him anything he wanted to know. She hoped he didn’t think of that, or wasn’t willing to risk a shot being heard by neighbors. After all, this was a quiet neighborhood and a gunshot was liable to be noticed.

  “All right,” he said. “A hostage isn’t a bad idea. Hand me that string. I’ll tie you up so you don’t get any ideas. Then you’re going to show me where the ledger is.”

  This wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind, but at least she’d get him away from here and her cousins. Aunt Darcy looked up at her with wide eyes, her lips quivering.

  “Harley—don’t.”

  “It’ll be all right. Really it will. He’ll get what he wants, and then he’ll leave us alone.” It was hard to sound calm when her heart was pumping like crazy and her knees were wobbly. And she just hoped she was right.

  Bernie seemed to have a plan. And he apparently had figured out that the cops would be at the shop, because when she suggested they go there first, he said he wasn’t falling for that shit.

  “Get me, little girl? You better not be stalling me. You’ll regret it if you do.”

  “Okay. Whatever you say. I just thought it might have been moved or something, but it’s still where I last saw it, I’m sure.”

  “And where was that?”

  “Atoka.”

  Bernie swore again, harshly. “I knew that bitch was holding out on me.”

  “Well, I don’t think she knows what she has. Maybe Cheríe gave it to her but didn’t tell her what it was or why it’s important.”

  “Frieda gave her the ledger?�
��

  “It’s hidden inside something.” And if it wasn’t, she was in deep doody. “Mind me asking why it’s so important?”

  “Don’t get too nosy. If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” He laughed like it was a joke, but Harley didn’t find it amusing. He’d already killed at least one person, she was sure, and maybe two. She had no desire to add another notch to his pistol.

  “That’s okay,” she said, “I’m not that curious.” The string he’d tied around her wrists had been pulled tight enough to cut off her circulation, and she twisted her hands to ease the strain. It gave a little, and she caught her breath. He hadn’t knotted it good. She didn’t dare look down at her wrists clasped in front of her. To put him off-guard, she chattered about her parents, her bike, her job, and anything she thought would distract him while she worked her hands loose, until finally he slammed his open hand against the steering wheel and yelled at her.

  “You’re a damn nuisance, you know that? Just shut the hell up or I’ll shoot you and look for the damn ledger myself!”

  “Sorry. Just trying to pass the time. You don’t have to get so excited.”

  It seemed to take forever to get to Atoka, even in Aunt Darcy’s sleek Lexus. Bernie had made her aunt trade cars, and she wondered if he’d left his at the shop. And if Bobby or Morgan were already there staking it out, or if they’d gone to Darcy’s house to check on them. It’d be a huge comfort to know someone was already looking for her.

  When they pulled onto the rutted driveway, two cars were parked near the mobile home. Harley had a flare of hope. Were the police already here?

  Bernie braked abruptly at the end of the driveway. “This better not be a setup.”

  “One of the cars is Anna’s. I don’t know the other one. Anyway, how would it be a setup if I didn’t know you were going to take me hostage, and I’ve been with you this whole time?”

  Logic wasn’t his strong point, it seemed. He growled at her, “If you’ve tipped off the cops you’ll regret it.”

  “Regret is my middle name, believe me, but you broke my cell phone so I obviously had no way to call anyone.”

  Despite her denials, Harley hoped like hell the cops were there. She didn’t see any good way out of this if they weren’t.

  Just her luck. It wasn’t the cops. She knew that immediately when the storm door swung open and Cheríe Saucier stepped out onto the porch. Bernie said something under his breath and roared down the driveway, slamming the car into park and hurling himself out the door, gun in hand.

  “Frieda! Damn you, bet you didn’t expect to see me any time soon!”

  Cheríe had come to a complete stop and stared at Bernie like he was a ghost. For a minute she didn’t say anything, just stood there with her mouth open and eyes wide. Harley saw something like terror in her eyes and knew it was time to make her move.

  Bernie had left the car running, keys still in the ignition, and she scooted across the seat and behind the wheel. Her wrists were still bound, though a lot looser, and she managed to put the car into gear and grab the wheel as it lurched forward. She stomped on the gas pedal. Aunt Darcy’s nice, shiny Lexus had a lot of power. It shot toward the parked car at the edge of the trailer and crashed into it, crumpling fenders with a terrible shrieking sound. Damn. Not at all the direction she’d meant to go. Steam rose from under the hood with a loud hissing noise.

  A little disoriented by the collision, and breathless from the air bag that mushroomed out like a chalky marshmallow, Harley fought her way free just as Bernie reached in the still open door to grab her.

  “Stupid bitch, what are you trying to do, kill me?”

  “Turnabout seems fair play,” she muttered as he hauled her out of the car and threw her to the ground. Landing on her back, she glanced over at the porch just in time to see Cheríe make a mad dash toward her car. She had the ivory box in her hands.

  “She’s getting away with the ledger,” Harley said when it looked like Bernie intended to shoot her, and he whirled around.

  “Damn you, Frieda, you better stop!” To make his point, he fired at her. The bullet pinged off something metal and both Frieda and Anna shrieked.

  Frieda took off across the field, clutching the box to her chest, and Bernie ran after her. It was obvious he hadn’t been prepared for a foot chase, as his panting and swearing got louder. He paused, fired a shot that went wild, and then took off after Frieda again.

  “Do something!” Anna shouted, and Harley realized she was looking at her.

  She blinked. “Do what? He’s got a gun. Call the police.”

  “They’ll never get here in time. Can’t you do something before he kills her?”

  “He’s not that good a shot. Besides, he’s your brother, you go after him.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, he’s not my brother! Just stop him, please!”

  Harley got to her feet and found that the string around her wrists had almost come off. She tugged her right hand free. “I hope you’re dialing nine-one-one,” she said as she started across the field, “and tell them to hurry!”

  She had no idea how she was supposed to stop Bernie from killing Frieda. If he really wasn’t her brother, then he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her. What did he have to lose now?

  A line of thin trees fenced in the field on one side, and Harley saw Frieda disappear into them, with Bernie not too far behind. He was gaining on her, and all it’d take was one bullet to bring her down. Harley paused to pick up a broken branch from the ground, just so she’d have a weapon of sorts. Maybe she could come up behind him and whack him in the head with it before he knew she was there. And maybe he’d hear her behind him and turn around and shoot her, the more logical part of her brain protested.

  Why should she even care if he killed Frieda anyway? She was just as unpleasant, no matter what name she went by, and part of the same smuggling operation. Of course, she didn’t really want to see her dead, but was it worth risking her own life?

  All those thoughts whirled around her head as her Nikes dug into ground still soggy from the last rain. Her chest ached and she dragged in air that smelled of damp ground and wildflowers just beginning to bloom. Arms pumping, she closed the distance between her and Bernie. He was just ahead of her, reaching the line of trees, when a white flash rose up out of the ground at his feet.

  Stumbling, he let out a startled yell and fell sideways. Harley saw his gun fly through the air. She changed directions and dove onto the pistol while Bernie beat at the feathered fury attacking him with bill and huge wings. By the time she got to her feet with the gun in hand, Gladys had Bernie bleeding.

  Harley panted, “I never thought I’d be glad to see you, Gladys. Hold it there, Bernie—I have the gun now, and I know how to shoot.”

  That wasn’t really a lie. She did have the gun and she figured she could pull the trigger if she had to, not that she’d tell him that, of course.

  “Shoot the damn thing!” Bernie yelled, but Harley had no intention of doing anything like that. The goose backed off a bit, watching both of them with wings outspread. It made a hissing noise that sounded ominous. Harley glimpsed a fuzzy bit of gray fluff peeking out from some kind of nest on the ground behind Gladys. Ah, so that was what she was protecting. Babies.

  Keeping a wary eye on Gladys, as she didn’t quite trust the goose not to go for her, too, she edged around and motioned with the pistol. “Get up slowly and she might not peck you to death.”

  The goose hissed louder, lunged at Bernie and nipped him on the leg, then retreated back to guard her nest. Bernie cussed some more. Harley smiled. Anna was right. Geese had the element of surprise that made them better than an attack dog. Who’d have ever thought Mother Goose could inflict so much damage?

  Bernie stumbled to his feet and held his hands in the air when Harley advised him to, glaring at her as he said, “You let Frieda get away, damn you!”

  “I wasn’t the one chasing her, you were. Now go back to the trailer. Walk slowly and keep your di
stance. Anna called the police and they should be here any minute.”

  He laughed. “Not unless you called ’em. You don’t think she’d call ’em, do you?”

  Harley hesitated. She hadn’t thought of that. Of course Anna wouldn’t call the police, not when her sister was involved in the smuggling. That meant she was on her own with Bernie—if he really was Bernie. She thought about what Anna had said earlier.

  “You know, Anna said the strangest thing. She said you aren’t her brother.”

  “Did she? Well, I guess she’d know her own brother, wouldn’t she.”

  Harley frowned. “I’m confused.”

  “Right. Look, give me that gun.” He took a step closer to her and held out his hand. “Give it to me and I won’t shoot you.”

  “Do I look that stupid? Don’t answer. Just keep your distance or you’ll find out what it feels like to wear a bullet as a nose ring.”

  She hoped he didn’t see the fear in her eyes, or notice the way her hands shook and the barrel of the pistol wavered, but he watched her closely.

  “You won’t do it. You can’t. It’s harder than you think to shoot a person if you haven’t ever shot anyone before.”

  “Well, I guess you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you. You shot Harry.”

  He grinned. “Right. Harry Gordon is dead. I’m still here, though. And I’m telling you to give me that gun before you get hurt.”

  “Don’t push your luck. You might get surprised.” She motioned with the pistol. “Head back to the trailer. We’ll wait on the police there.”

  “Sure you want to do that? I don’t think Anna or Frieda are too fond of cops. They might not want you to call them.”

  “The person with the gun makes the rules. Now walk!”

  To her relief, he slowly turned around, hands still in the air, and started walking toward the mobile home. As they got close, Harley saw Anna and Frieda get into the only car that still ran and take off down the driveway. Bernie started cussing again. She felt like doing the same.

 

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