Germain eyed him expressionlessly. “Then who would know?”
“I don’t know.” Sharkface smirked. “And I want my lawyer.”
Germain drew me aside and turned his back on Sharkface to speak softly. “Now what?”
“Lean on him.”
He grimaced. “You know as well as I do that once he refuses to talk and asks for a lawyer we’ve reached the legal limit of what we can do here. Maybe if we took him in and showed him the footage of Hibbert’s murder we could shake him…”
“We don’t have time for that!”
Germain frowned, lines of strain bracketing his mouth. “I know, but unless you’ve got any other ideas we’re at a standstill. And I have to leave.” He grimaced, the torment clear in his eyes. “I want to rescue Kane as much as you do, but I can’t leave my other mission unless there’s imminent-”
“But they have John, you know they’ll be torturing him!”
Germain’s fists clenched. “Yes, but where are they holding him? They’ll likely keep him alive until after the meeting with Volslav, but that’s only a few hours away. Even if we had teams available and we could barge into all Parr’s properties without a warrant, we still wouldn’t have time to hit even half of them.”
“But what can we do?” I clutched at his sleeve. “Carl, help!”
He clasped my shoulders with both hands, his normally cheerful brown eyes solemn. “Aydan, quit the bookkeeper act. I don’t have your in-depth knowledge of Fuzzy Bunny, and this is your show. Call me as soon as you have a plan and I’ll drop everything to help, but you know I’m no use to you until then.”
Despair closed like a granite coffin around my heart.
That was it. Kane’s death sentence.
My voice came out flat and hopeless. “Spider is trying to locate John’s phone, but I don’t know how long that will take. If I get a location, I’ll call you right away.” I bit back the futile urge to beg him to stay. “You’re right, I can’t think of anything else you could do right now. Thanks for trying with Barnett, though.”
He sighed. “Keep me posted.”
I nodded, and Germain turned back to Sharkface. “Last chance. Helping us now is the best deal you’re going to get.”
Sharkface began to describe in anatomically impossible detail what Germain could do with his offer, and Germain shrugged and turned away to get in his car. Heart sinking, I punched the door opener and watched while he drove away.
The vibration of the burner phone made my pulse leap. I hurried out of Sharkface’s earshot and fumbled the phone from my pocket. “Anything?”
“No.” Spider’s voice was thin and strained. “Dawn White isn’t at home and didn’t show up for work today. Kane’s call originated from a downtown hotel last night around two AM, so I hacked into their CCTV security camera. At eight-thirty this morning the security footage showed Kane and White leaving the hotel looking…” He hesitated. “Um… happy. And when I traced the current location of the burner phone, the GPS coordinates matched the landfill. So Kane ditched the burner phone as per protocol, and whatever happened to him, it happened after they left the hotel. He could be anywhere. I’m sorry, Aydan, I feel so useless…” His voice quavered into a silence that echoed in the gaping hollow inside my chest.
After a moment I forced a firm, confident tone. “Don’t worry, Spider, you’ve been a huge help, and we’ll figure this out. Keep your facial recognition programs running and let me know if anything else turns up.”
“Do you have a plan?” The desperate hope in his tone twisted my heart.
“I’m working on one,” I lied. “Don’t worry.”
“Thank God, Aydan, I knew you’d think of something!”
“I’ll call you later,” I choked through the tightening noose of my guilt, and hung up.
Oh, God.
Sickness wrenched my guts and I wrapped my arms around myself. I knew first-hand what Kane would be suffering. And my failure would doom him to a prolonged and excruciating death…
“Hey, sweet-ass!”
Sharkface’s voice lashed my raw emotions and I turned to see he had struggled out of the back of the SUV to stand precariously, feet bound together and hands still restrained behind his back. He grinned, his flat eyes devoid of humour.
“So much for your cop friend. Now I’ve got a deal for you. If you let me go right now, I’ll give you a couple hours head start before I report to Mr. Parr.”
“Fuck you.”
He bared his teeth. “Wrong answer, bitch. Try again. Now you get one hour head start. And if I catch you, I’ll fuck you once for each time you’ve told me to fuck off. And when I get tired of fucking you, I’ll cut you and burn you and then fuck you some more. And believe me, bitch, I can make it last for days-”
The terror of a flashback seized me for a bare instant before white rage exploded behind my eyes.
I charged.
Reaching him in a few hard strides, I sidestepped at the last moment to drive a kick into his gut with all my strength.
The air barked out of his lungs as he doubled over. I whirled, my foot on its way to his head even while my ears belatedly registered the small, flat report of a trank gun.
I was already spewing garbled obscenities by the time I dragged my eyelids open to see the inside of Hellhound’s SUV again.
“Take it easy, darlin’.” Hellhound’s blurred features swam beside me. “Just give it a coupla minutes.”
I let my eyes fall shut and mumbled ineffectually, but he must have guessed my question.
“I tranked him an’ ya breathed the gas again. Just take it easy.”
I subsided, letting my body recover while I fought the mental fog. The nuclear holocaust of my rage slowly reshaped itself into bright cold fury, and I measured its breadth and depth as if hefting a new and lethal weapon.
Yes. This would serve me.
If it didn’t destroy me.
But maybe it already had.
I opened my eyes and jerked the seat upright. “Is Sharkface in the back?”
“Yeah. What d’ya wanna-”
“Take us back to my car.” My voice came out hard and brittle.
“Okay…” Hellhound eyed me with concern, but he got out to open the bay door and turn off the lights without further comment. By the time we drove away, I was dialling my phone.
If I’d had any emotion left in my body, I would have held my breath while it rang. Instead, I waited with icy composure until Dave picked up.
“Dave, it’s Aydan,” I said, and kept talking over his cheerful greeting. “Where are you?”
“Calgary. Just prepping a reefer.”
Shit.
“Are you fit to drive?” I snapped.
“’Course.” He sounded puzzled. “Heading out in about an hour. Why?”
That was enough to shift my focus. “What? You’re toking up before you get on the road?”
“No!” His affront came through loud and clear. “Jeez, thought you knew me better than… oh.” Comprehension gentled his tone. “Reefer’s a refrigerated trailer. Keeps fruit and stuff cool in summer, but in winter it keeps it from freezing. Just pre-warming it before we load.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I gripped the phone and drew a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you for a really big favour, and feel free to say no.”
“Like I told you; anything, anytime.”
“This is illegal. And dangerous.”
“Hel… Heck, what else is new?” His joke might have sounded more humorous without the slight tremor in his voice.
“And you’ll probably miss your delivery and end up in deep shit…”
“Time’s wasting, Aydan,” he said firmly. “Tell me where you need me. I’ll get unhooked and bobtail over-”
“No,” I interrupted. “If the trailer’s empty I need it, too.”
Hellhound shot me a perplexed look from the driver’s seat, and Dave’s voice mirrored his bewilderment. “Okay… Where do you want me?”
“Doe
s your trailer have a ramp?”
“Uh… yeah… I’m delivering to a bunch of small-town grocery stores. Most of ‘em don’t have loading docks-”
“Is the ramp strong enough to hold a car?”
“Uh, probably… Have to check the load rating, though.”
“Okay, good. We’re close to Nose Hill Park and 14th Street right now. Where can we meet where it’s easy for you to get the truck in and out but nobody will pay attention to somebody driving a car into a reefer trailer?”
“Uh…” Dave hesitated. “Anybody that knows anything about trucking is gonna notice something like that. You talking about your Legacy? It’ll be a tight fit.”
I held onto my patience with both fists. “Just tell me where, Dave.”
“Okay, uh… Maybe close to a car dealership or a leasing company? As long as nobody looks too close at the trailer we might be okay. There’s a place just south of the airport where I delivered some cars once…”
“Perfect. Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker so Arnie can memorize the address.”
I pressed the speaker button, and Dave’s voice crackled out of the phone with unfortunate clarity. “He’s with you?”
His inflection was distinctly unflattering, and Hellhound’s mouth quirked. “Dave. Buddy. I missed ya, too.”
“Shi… crap. Didn’t mean it that way…” Dave trailed off. “I just meant…” He stopped, apparently giving it up as a bad job. “Don’t know the address off-hand, but I’ll give you directions.” He recited them and added, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
When he hung up I turned to frown at Hellhound. “You guys aren’t going to get into another pissing match, are you?”
Hellhound snorted. “Hell, I got nothin’ to prove. Long as Dave can handle it, I’m good.”
“I know you’re good.” Despite my tension, I paused to smile at his smug expression. “What I’m asking is whether you can work with Dave.”
All traces of humour vanished from his face. “We’re talkin’ about savin’ John’s ass here. If ya need me to stand on my head an’ cluck like a chicken, I’ll go put on the fuckin’ feathers right now. Dave ain’t gonna be a problem.”
When we pulled into the Nose Hill parking lot, I drew a breath of relief at the sight of my car parked in solitary splendour. The rising wind whipped little eddies of snow across the packed surface, and I guessed the dog walkers had lost interest. Perfect.
“Pull in next to me,” I commanded, and hit the remote trunk release.
“What the hell, darlin’?”
I ignored Hellhound’s question and hopped out as soon as the SUV stopped moving. After hurriedly relocating all my gear from the trunk to the back seat I turned to face his bemused expression.
“Help me move Barnett into the trunk.”
“Why?” Hellhound eyed me suspiciously. “He’s fine in the back a’ my truck. An’ cars have those interior trunk releases now. Ya don’t want him jumpin’ out in the middle a’ traffic.”
“He’s going to be unconscious, so it won’t be a problem. Hurry up, before somebody comes.”
“But…”
“My op, my orders.” The words tasted of bitter irony, but I forced them out anyway and fixed Hellhound with my best ‘I-mean-business’ glare.
He shrugged and popped the hatch of the SUV. “Okay. So, ‘illegal an’ dangerous’, eh? Sounds like my kinda party. What’s the plan?”
I avoided answering while we hefted Sharkface’s limp bulk into my trunk.
As I reached for the lid Hellhound said, “Better trank him again. I only hit him with one, an’ that was fifteen minutes ago.”
“Right, thanks.”
I aimed my trank gun, but Hellhound stopped my hand. “Hang on. If it’s close quarters an’ he’s already out, ya can just do this.” He appropriated the gun and ejected the magazine to carefully extract two darts. Reaching over, he pushed the points into Sharkface’s neck and held them there for a moment.
“There.” He withdrew the empty darts, leaving two tiny punctures. “The injected trank still works the same, but the gas doesn’t spray out unless the dart hits somethin’ when it’s goin’ close to muzzle velocity. This way ya don’t hafta hold your breath.”
I closed the trunk lid and tucked the gun back in my holster before leaning against him for a quick hug. “What would I do without you?”
He grinned. “Prob’ly die from lack of orgasms.” His smile faded. “Now, are ya gonna tell me what the plan is?”
I hesitated. “When we get there. I need to make a stop on the way, so I’ll meet you there later…”
“Did ya memorize the directions?” he challenged.
I blew out a breath of resignation. “No.”
“Awright, then, tell me where your stop is. We’ll go there first an’ then ya can follow me to meet Dave.”
“Or you could just tell me the directions and I could memorize them,” I suggested without much hope.
He just snorted, and I gave up. “Fine. I’m going to stop at Canadian Tire. If you could stay in the parking lot and watch my car while I’m in the store, that would be great.”
“Canadian Tire?” Hellhound frowned. “What-”
“Let’s go, the trank’s wearing off while we stand here,” I interrupted, and made for the driver’s seat.
Chapter 41
Pulling up to where Dave’s big semi grumbled quietly in an empty corner of the parking lot, I shot a wary glance around the area. The wind had picked up and there was nobody moving among the rows of cars near the leasing office Dave had chosen as our meeting place.
Good.
I loosened my white-knuckled grip on my steering wheel and drew a long slow breath, willing my rigid muscles to ease.
I could do this.
I had to do this. Kane’s life depended on it.
As Dave swung down from the cab, Hellhound emerged from his SUV and they both hurried toward my car. I powered the passenger window down and Dave leaned in, his worried gaze travelling over the makeshift plastic window on the driver’s side and the shopping bags in my back seat.
“What happ…” He stopped. “What do you want me to do?” he asked instead.
I drew a deep breath and held my voice steady. “Listen carefully, and do exactly what I say.” He nodded, his brow furrowing.
“Okay,” I continued. “First of all, if anybody asks, I’m Arlene Widdenback.”
“Not Jane?”
“Not this time.”
His jaw firmed and he squared his shoulders. “’Kay. Arlene Widdenback. Got it.”
“I want you to show Arnie how to operate the doors and ramp on your trailer,” I went on. “Then I want you to get in the driver’s seat and not look back. Keep your phone on, and I’ll phone you with instructions. Don’t try to see what we’re doing. If you hear anything, ignore it. Drive around wherever you want, but stay inside city limits. Got it?”
“But, Aydan-”
I silenced him with an upraised hand. “If the shit hits the fan and we get caught, you tell the truth in court. Tell them I called you and said I needed your truck but I didn’t tell you anything and I wouldn’t let you watch. And you did what I told you because you knew I worked for the Department.”
“But-”
“Do you still have those removable decals for your doors?”
“Got something better.” He gave me a slightly sheepish look. “After the last time we were on the run in my truck, I got bogus ones made up. And bogus decals to cover my license plates, too. Just in case.”
My tension eased enough to let the corners of my mouth crack into a smile. “Dave, you’re brilliant.” His ears turned scarlet and he shuffled his feet, grinning. I added, “Put them on while Arnie and I are loading the car. Then get in the driver’s seat and wait for instructions.”
He sobered. “Aydan, tell me what you’re doing. I can help-”
“You’re already helping. And this is all I want you to do. You’ll be safe this wa
y.” I waved off his incipient protest. “Dave, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. And imagine how Nichele would feel. You have to think about her now. Please, just do as I say.”
His lips thinned, but he blew out a breath and nodded. “’Kay. Good luck.” He jerked his chin at Hellhound. “Come on.”
I eyed the proceedings worriedly while they opened the big back doors of the trailer and hauled out twin ramps. Shit, Dave was right. The car was going to be a damn tight squeeze. I’d probably have to climb out the window instead of opening the door.
And the trailer was higher than I’d realized. The ramps were so steep I’d be lucky if I didn’t high-centre the car at the top. And that was assuming I didn’t drive off the narrow ramps in the first place.
And dammit, twenty minutes had passed. Sharkface was going to wake up soon.
Ramps in place, the men shot expectant glances in my direction. I turned the car around and backed toward the ramps, silently praying. A few feet away I stopped and got out to examine the trailer before turning to Dave.
“Can I open the doors from the inside if I have to?”
“Yeah, there’s an emergency release handle here.” He indicated a recessed lever on the door.
“Okay, good. Thanks. Dave, this is where you head for the cab.”
His jaw worked as if he was chewing on an argument, but he muttered, “’Kay,” instead and obeyed.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Hellhound demanded, “Okay, darlin’, what’s the plan?”
“Now you guide me up the ramps and then close the doors behind me. Follow Dave wherever he goes. I’ll call you if I have any other instructions.”
He frowned down at me in silence for a moment before his expression smoothed into ominous calm. “Whatcha got in the shoppin’ bags, darlin’?”
Before I could stop him, he opened the car door and rummaged for a moment before going still. Straightening, he turned slowly, holding the bag containing duct tape, rope, and waterproof plastic tarps.
Still expressionless, he studied my face for a long moment before speaking. “Ya sure about this, Aydan?”
I avoided his gaze. “Yes. John’s out of time. We’re out of ideas. Unless you have a better plan…”
Spy Now, Pay Later Page 31