Blaine looked at me. “How much information did you and Lilah give the DEA?”
“Nothing,” I squeaked. “I didn’t know anything.”
Tom’s hand went to mine. “She didn’t get anything before the fire. Everything went down with it.”
The water bobbed our boat underneath us, making my stomach squirm. I hated boats.
Antonio squinted, looking at Tom. “Then how did the DEA catch on, huh?” He pointed at me. “She told, Blaine, she told everyone.”
“How much did you tell them, Ruby?” Blaine asked, his eyes cold.
“I-I said I didn’t know it was you, Blaine,” I tried.
His face pulled into a morbid grin. “I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, Ruby. I think you know more than you’re admitting.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. “I’m not lying, Blaine. I’m too scared.”
“Oh yeah, then how come at the cafeteria, you told Antonio you found out about everything?”
Closing my eyes, I whispered. “I was bluffing.”
“Yeah, right,” Blaine snapped. “What did you tell them…do they know about me?”
Tom moved between me and Blaine. “She didn’t tell us anything, Blaine. We couldn’t follow the paper trail. That’s why I was meeting with Jason; to bust him for selling.”
Blaine’s eyes narrowed. “Liar.”
“Let her go,” Tom said evenly.
Blaine guffawed. “That’s not going to happen.” He slid his thumb over the gun’s safety, flicking it off.
Tom put his hands up. “Easy,” he murmured. “Slow down. Everybody just calm down.”
Antonio’s eye twitched. “What’re we waitin’ for, man? Just waste ‘em and dump them over the side. We gotta get out of here.”
Licking his lips nervously, Blaine looked at me. “Come here, Ruby.”
“OK, OK, wait!” Tom said, his gaze bouncing from Antonio to Blaine and back again. “I’m DEA, if you run into trouble, I’m insurance.”
“Tom, no,” I cried. “They’ll kill you.”
Ignoring me, Tom moved towards Blaine. “Think about it.”
My gaze flicked to the gun in my boss’s shaking hand. Dread tore through me.
“If we’d had anything on you, we would have raided your house, not a club,” Tom said. He half turned away from them, and pulled something out of his pocket, palming it. I couldn’t tell what it was. “Why go after the buyer when we could have had the supplier, right? You have something else lined up…another deal? The DEA doesn’t know about that. You’ll have money.” Tom took a step towards Blaine. “You can run.”
Antonio’s gun flew up, arcing towards Tom’s chest. “Stop moving,” he ordered.
Putting his arms up, Tom froze with a serene look on his face. “Think about it, Blaine. No one knows you’re involved; no one can trace your steps. You can walk away from this.”
“Just shoot them,” Antonio yelled and lunged for me, grabbing a handful of my shirt; he threw me to the floor. My head bounced off the built-in tackle box, sparks flashing behind my eyes. I cried out with pain.
Tom flew at Antonio, ramming him with his shoulder, bringing him to the deck. They tangled on the floor, punching and twisting with each other. Antonio’s gun skittered under the seats.
I screamed, grabbing onto the canopy pole to keep from going over the side of the roiling boat.
“Stop!” Blaine yelled and fired into the air, the bullet slicing through the canopy overhead. “That’s enough!”
Tom and Antonio froze on the floor. Lip bloody, Tom got to his feet and yanked his shirt straight, panting. He looked like he might pounce on Blaine next.
I tried to move, but Blaine grabbed me by the arm and yanked me in front of him like a shield. He pressed his gun to my head. “Don’t think about it,” he said to Tom.
Terrified, the breath caught in my throat. My stomach roiled with nausea from the pain in my head.
Tom froze.
“Antonio, get up. We need to get out on the water,” Blaine ordered.
Struggling to his feet, Antonio grabbed his gun and shoved it in his waistband. Sliding onto the driver’s seat, he started up the fishing boat. We pulled away from the dock, veering right.
Blaine pointed with the gun to a nearby seat. “Sit down, Tom.” He dragged me onto the bench and sat down next to me, his gun still at my head.
Tom sat down across from us, his face tense. He lowered his gaze to mine.
I swallowed hard, to keep from crying.
We bucked long the water’s surface, cold spray and wind making my eyes flutter. I shivered and swallowed back the panic.
Antonio called out over his shoulder. “What are we doing, Blaine?”
“Take us to a nice quiet spot. We’re going diving,” Blaine said and smiled at Tom. “At least two of us are.”
Tom’s gaze met mine. I couldn’t see any of the cocky confidence anymore. Only worry.
Antonio looked back, his tongue darting out from between his pink lips. “Guess you ran out of that freaky luck, didn’t you, Doc?”
Tom’s gaze shot to Antonio, a strange look on his face, then turned to Blaine. “We took Jason and his sister alive.”
“You don’t know that.” Blaine’s hand squeezed my arm painfully. I hissed in a sharp breath.
“I was slipping him meth on the sly. The guy is over the edge.” Tom shouted to Antonio. “Isn’t that right?” Turning back to Blaine; “Bet you Jason was already talking on the ride over to the police station. He can’t evade questions, not in that condition, right, Doctor Blaine?”
“You said the DEA doesn’t have anything,” Blaine shouted.
“On you,” Tom clarified.
The boat rammed over some waves, and I cringed. What was Tom doing?
“What does that mean?” Antonio snapped from the wheel and a nervous look crossed his features.
Tom leaned back, his voice loud. “Who met with Jason? Who harassed the clinic? Whose face is all over the news right now as wanted in connection with Dakota’s murder and the clinic firebombing?”
Antonio’s face pulled into a grimace. “What?”
Blaine sat upright, his gun hand shaking. “Don’t listen to him Antonio. He’s just trying to—”
“Blaine needed someone to pin things on if things went south, Antonio.” Tom’s voice never cracked, never wavered. “You’re wanted all over the city. Not Blaine, he kept everything at arm’s length. He set you up.”
“My face is what?” Antonio yelled from the driver seat. He turned and took the steering wheel with him sending the boat into a sideways lurch.
“Shut up,” Blaine yelled. He jumped to his feet, his gun arcing towards us, but Tom was faster. Arms shooting forward, he shoved Blaine to the floor, the gun going off.
I flinched, as the bulled pinged off the railing. Antonio dove to the floor, the boat careening wildly with no one at the wheel. Everyone pitched sideways, toppling to the deck. Blaine’s gun skidded across the boards, lodging under the tackle box.
Tom scrambled to his feet, speaking quickly to Antonio. “The hit on Ruby, the arson, everything is on you. Blaine gets away clean.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Blaine shouted, and climbed to his feet. He pointed to Tom, his voice cracking. “He’s a liar. He’s paid to lie!”
The boat slowed, with no one pressing on the gas, and we lolled in the water.
Antonio, leaning against the railing of the boat, pointed his gun at me and glared at Tom. “I should just kill all of you. Then the DEA won’t have anything.“
I swallowed back the bile in my throat.
“We have DNA from your blood at the Sports Clinic,” Tom said quickly. “It proves you were there, that you attacked her. Whether or not Ruby testifies, we have you.”
Antonio’s face fell. Then his eyes went to Blaine, angry. “You sent me to kill her. I’m not going down for it alone. I got our phone conversations recorded.”
Blaine’s mouth contorted into a
tortured grimace in the dim light and he yelled at Antonio, spittle flying from his lips. “You what?”
Tom’s body coiled with tension, watching their exchange.
Listing without power, I clung to the canopy pole, almost going overboard when we hit a swell.
“You think I’m just a stupid gang-banger,” Antonio yelled. “You think you’re going to lay this all on me?” He screamed, his gun leveling at Blaine’s chest; the two of them squaring off.
Tom moved blazingly fast, his hand coming up and a blinding cloud of light exploded from it, flash powder. Blaine staggered back screaming, his hands going to his face. Ramming into Antonio, he threw him to the deck.
“Go, Ruby, jump!” Tom yelled.
Seconds slowed to frantic snapshots of movement. Blaine lunged, his eyes watered, he couldn’t see.
I jumped out of his reach, bounding onto the bench seat and running along the back of the boat. To my right, the lights of an approaching vessel pierced the now dark sky.
“Tom!” I yelled, dodging Blaine’s grasp. I pointed to the lights. To help.
Blaine growled and swung at me again, but I hopped onto the back railing, teetering on it like a tightrope walker.
“Jump, Ruby!” Tom yelled again.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t leave him.
Tom ripped himself from Antonio’s grasp, scrambling towards me. He elbowed Blaine to the side like a raging lineman.
“Dive down!” Tom yelled and slapped his palm into my back, launching me over the side of the boat.
A scream ripped from my lungs as I belly flopped into the dark water. Stunned, the frigid swells sucked me down and I kicked my legs, slicing deeper, putting distance between me and the surface. Overhead, a muffled popping sound warbled through the water as someone fired into the ocean after me.
Lungs burning, I surfaced, coughing. Almost fifty yards off, I saw the back lights of the boat pulling away. A flash of light from within the boat and the resounding crack of gunfire tore through the night.
I screamed, sobs ripping my heart open. “Tom!”
****
The scuba instructor from the vessel fished me out of the ocean and the students helped pull me onto the boat. I lay panting and crying on the deck surrounded by a dozen slightly tipsy couples. Bathed in the deck lighting, they stared at me with open mouthed wonder.
The instructor helped me to my feet. Eyes wide with fear, he looked at me. “Did I hear gunshots?”
The name, ‘Skip’ was embroidered on his windbreaker.
I nodded, staggered a few steps, and vomited.
Everyone jumped back in disgust as I collapsed onto my knees.
“Can you call the Coast Guard for me? Tell them to get hold of DEA Supervisor Lopez,” I said and wiped my mouth with my arm, voice trembling.
Skip nodded dumbly and helped me to a nearby deck chair. A woman handed me a damp towel and stepped back. I sat in shock, staring out at the dark water, shaking.
Exhausted, I rested my head against the back of the chair and closed my eyes to pray. No words came, just the inward groaning of my broken spirit. A wave of overwhelming fatigue crashed over me, and I slipped away into unconsciousness.
41
Dresden Heights Detention Center
Ten Years Ago
It never rained this hard, not here, anyway. But it was raining, and the noise was like a thousand marbles on a pie tin. I told myself this could be a good sign as I crawled on my hands and knees across the sheet metal roof of the abandoned bus depot. I hoped the rain masked the sound of the metal bowing under my weight. Rust and dirt sloughed off the roof, and I dug my fingers into the pitted metal, struggling to keep from slipping backwards. I looked over my shoulder. The streetlights bathed the asphalt two stories below in pale orange. I shuddered.
Heights are bad, really bad.
I crested the roof and peered over it to the deserted street. Defunct for nearly six years, the stucco building now served as a graffiti magnet and crash pad for street kids in the area. The bottom doors and windows were barred, but a girl in Biology told me to look for broken windows on the second floor that everyone used to get inside. I scanned the roofline and found them. There was my way in; a row of vent windows with broken glass like jagged teeth in the face of the building.
I turned on the roof, swung my feet down towards the ledge, and let go. I slid down, flailed frantically with both hands, and caught hold of one of the vent windows’ frames. Panting, I spit rainwater from my mouth and teetered along the building’s outside ledge on my tip-toes.
You can do this, Ruby. The strength will come, it’ll come.
I took a deep breath and side-shuffled past the intact windows to the broken ones I needed. My knees trembled as I looked down into the hollow maintenance garage below.
The vague, block-like shapes of toppled lockers made huddled forms in the darkness. Lightning streaked overhead and gave me a flash of the torn magazines and trash littering the floor. I flinched when the thunder rumbled, and I gripped the window frame with aching fingers.
At the first broken window, I lowered my legs in and poked around with the toe of my tennis shoe for the one locker section still standing upright. Tongue out, concentrating, I froze when I heard Tom. He yelled from somewhere inside the building.
Frantic, I aimed where I thought I saw the lockers, closed my eyes, and jumped down. Slick with the rain overhead, I pawed and scratched for a handhold on the slippery surface of the locker tops.
Another desperate echo bounced along the fallen lockers and empty halls towards me. My pulse shot prickles down through my fingertips and I lost my grip. I hit the filthy tile floor with a wet smack.
Gasping for breath, I called out. “Where are you?”
I scrambled to my feet and squinted into the darkness. My name floated from the bowels of the building. I stumbled towards Tom’s voice. Slipping on wet trash and magazines, I tripped over an old toolbox and went sprawling. Hitting the edge of an overturned table, the breath whooshed out of me again.
Tom shouted from far away. “Don’t do this! Stop!”
My side on fire, I pulled upright and lurched forward. Panic exploded in my chest. I yelled again. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
I hoped my voice would stop what was happening, that the thought of a witness would stop Griffin. Tom’s pain-filled howl stabbed through me. I ran blindly, bouncing off walls. Up ahead, I stumbled down a flight of stairs to the street level. A broken door, listing off its hinges, let in weak light from outside.
Almost there!
Griffin shouted angrily, and I sprinted towards the sound. I nearly lost my footing and staggered out into the maintenance building’s open courtyard. A few yards ahead, Tom and Griffin tangled with each other against a chain-link fence.
I screamed, heart tumbling in my chest.
Griffin’s head snapped towards me, and he screeched, “You stay out of this! This isn’t about you, anymore!” His eyes were wild.
Tom stood pinned against the fence with a knife to his throat. His busted lip dripped blood onto his torn white T-shirt.
Tom strained in Griffin’s grasp. “Ruby, get out of here!”
“Griffin, stop!” I pled.
Griffin ignored me and turned back to face Tom. He grabbed a wad of Tom’s T-shirt and shook him like a rag doll. Rain poured down from the sky and splashed around their feet.
“Griffin! What are you doing?” I screamed. I edged closer, my mind reeling.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to stop this.
Griffin didn’t look at me when he answered. His eyes, transfixed on the knife at Tom’s throat, narrowed with rage.
“He has to pay,” Griffin yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth. “He made them laugh at me!”
Rain dripped off their noses and matted hair. I couldn’t make out Tom’s face, but his hands shook as he pushed against Griffin’s knife hand.
I inched forward. If I could just get close enough to
distract Griffin, then Tom might have a chance. “Please, you don’t need to do this,” I said evenly.
“No, this is exactly what I have to do!” Griffin snarled.
Closer now, I caught Tom’s gaze, tried to tell him what I was doing, but Griffin was already moving. He lunged with the knife. Tom twisted in his grip, and I screamed as my hands barely brushed Griffin’s arm.
And then everything went silent. I remembered later that the rain fell without sound for those few frozen seconds.
Griffin’s eyes went wide, lit up with the lightning flash, and crimson spray fanned across my white T-shirt. Blood started to run as the rain poured down on us. My heart rammed in my chest, and I staggered against the fence.
Then everything sped back up. The noise hit me like a physical blow, and I heard the knife clatter to the asphalt. Terrified, I locked gazes with Tom. His face was already white, he reached out to me.
I saw the gash in Tom’s side and my heart stopped.
Tom’s eyes swam as he looked at me. “Ruby?”
****
I awoke with a start, ripped from sleep by a blast from the Coast Guard cutter’s horn. Sitting up in the deck chair, I watched them pull alongside the scuba boat.
Dorris, standing on the deck, helped me over the side and onto the cutter. She wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, leading me into the cabin.
“Ruby,” she breathed. “What happened?”
I told her in short bursts, crying for jags at a time in between the highlights. Dorris punctuated my story with questions of her own. When I was finished, she leaned back in the seat and shook her head.
“They set us up. Antonio somehow got one of our confidential informants to lead us to his cousin’s house. The kid looked enough like Antonio that when we checked his I.D., we thought we had him. Fingerprints at the station took over an hour to come back, showing we didn’t have Antonio. By then…” A resigned look crossed her face. “We don’t know who might have tipped Antonio off.”
I sipped hot coffee. “Antonio must have followed Tom and I back to the safe house. He figured out who Tom was and warned Jason and Blaine about the sting.”
Ruby Dawn Page 24