Predator Patrol (Mars Cannon Novel #2)

by Nicolette Pierce

  “Contestant number four is Kym! She’s recently married and is here to tick off her husband. Seems the honeymoon is over!”

  I peeked around Mrs. Janowski as Kym strutted in front with a skin tight, ultrathin white t-shirt. Cheers blasted.

  “No Aaron yet?” I asked, knowing this was how she chose to push her husband’s buttons.

  “It’ll only be a matter of minutes,” she said smugly. “I thought I’d help light a fire under him.”

  Kirby continued introducing contestants as I made my way back to the bar. My surveying eyes stopped on T and Emmy who were holding hands as she read from her clipboard. I wanted to talk to T about Gemini, but I didn’t want to interrupt.

  Arms circled around my waist pressing my back into a warm, solid body. A kiss on my shoulder traveled to my ear.

  “Evan, you’re making it awfully hard to work. I’m trying to maintain a professional persona.”

  “It’s a bar. You’re too sexy to resist.”

  “My parents are here.”

  “Your mom is at the bar demanding wine. They keep giving her watered down whiskey and, at this point, she doesn’t care. Your dad is at the pool table teaching the Blue Thunderballs about the gravitational pull of objects . . . even if it’s just a billiard ball. And, no, it doesn’t matter if they’re stripped or solid.”

  I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You’ll have to excuse my parents.”

  “Only if you do the same for mine,” he said.

  I’d speak, but I was afraid of stuttering. Evan’s parents? Did he want me to meet them? Has any girl met them? Maybe he’s just using them for casual conversation to help alleviate my parents’ . . . charms.

  I cleared my throat. “Tell me why Andrea and Jack hate each other.”

  “All I know is Andrea came home one day yelling about a jerk named Jack that switched the salt and sugar. Her cake was salty and her soup was sugary. Ever since, there’s been a culinary war between them. Finally, the semester ended and I didn’t have to hear about Jack-the-Jerk anymore. But, really, switching the salt and sugar? It’s so amateur; it’s like pulling her pigtails.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I love when you contemplate. Your lips pout just a little and your eyes close just enough to give you bedroom eyes. You did it all the time when you were a coordinator.”

  I choked. “I make bedroom eyes when I think?”

  “Sometimes. Why do you think I always asked to work with you?”

  “Because I’m a great coordinator.”

  “Yeah, that too.” He smiled.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Where’s Kym?”

  I turned to find Jim.

  “She’s contestant number four,” I said, pointing at the contestants. “Were you able to get Aaron?”

  “Yes . . . no . . . I have to stop her.”

  He struggled through to the contestants and tugged her offstage. A boo rose but was replaced by applause when contestant number one was blasted with the super soaker.

  He said something that made her smile but she frowned moments later. Something was wrong.

  I hurried over, signaling to T as I wedged my way through.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Jim arranged everything. They approved Aaron to live with us in the morning since it’s too late at night to get him now.”

  “That’s great. What’s the problem?”

  “He ran away! One of the other kids said he was on the computer. They heard him mention the word Gemini and said he had to warn someone.”

  “If he was going to warn anyone, it’d be you, Mars. I’ll head over to your house,” T said. “He might be in your car again. Don’t leave the bar!”

  “Call me as soon as you check it out!” I called to his retreating form.

  “Can I do anything?” Kym asked. A worry line crinkled her brow.

  “Jim and you have done more than enough. At least once we find Aaron he can stay with you. Why don’t you both take the night off and relax. As soon as I hear from T, I’ll call with an update.”

  “I am feeling a little tired,” Kym admitted. “Make sure to call me right away and let me know. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.”

  I agreed, and Jim led Kym through the crowd.

  Gemini. Two personalities. More likely two people. Grub and who? I peeked at my phone hoping Aaron left a message. Nothing.

  My stomach knotted thinking of Aaron on the dark streets. Only Aaron knew Gemini’s identity which meant he was in serious trouble.

  “Are you okay?” Evan asked, clasping my hand. His thumb rubbed circles on my palm.

  “Aaron ran away. T left to go find him.”

  “Until we hear from T, you might as well relax. You put on a great event. Everyone’s happy. No one’s fighting; not even Andrea and Jack. Though, I suspect a lull in orders will have them at each other’s throats again.” Evan continued circling his thumb.

  I was slowly relaxing when Kirby boomed through the speakers. “Time for contestant number three! Give it up for Irene!”

  A thunder of applause rose for the grandma with more spunk than one woman should possess.

  “Evan, I can’t watch. Just tell me if something goes wrong.”

  A snapping sound preceded the falling fishing net. It blanketed the room, trapping patrons.

  “Uh, Mars. Something went wrong,” he laughed.

  “I see that,” I muttered.

  As the moment of surprise wore off, patrons fought to free themselves from the net. The more they moved and shoved, the more they became twisted and knotted.

  “Stop struggling!” I shouted. I wasn’t surprised to find no one paying attention. “Hank, pull up the net!”

  “It’s stuck,” he hollered.

  “Fix it!” I yelped as we tightened together.

  “I’m not the one that thought of this hair brained scheme!”

  “Is this a new game?” Kirby asked in the microphone. “Like fish net twister. Wicked!”

  “Can I say it?” Evan asked with a smirk.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Jeepers! No . . . I think I like jinkies better.”

  I chuckled. “You’re such a goofball.”

  “Sometimes, though not with everyone.” He traced my jaw with his finger, stopping at my lips. “Looks like we have a little time to kill.”

  “With Hank trying to free us, we might be here all night.”

  By the end of the night, customers departed with happy faces, the volunteers dragged their aching body’s home from a busy night’s work, the bar was mostly cleaned, and I had the fuzzy feeling of a job well done. Perhaps not all had gone as planned, but what’s life without a few hiccups to keep us on our toes?

  As I was picking up the last of the garbage and wondering where my painkillers were, Ida plopped a thick envelope in my hand.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “It’s yours. You earned every penny.”

  I opened it to find a bundle of cash. “You’re giving me this money? What about the bar? I know Hank needs the money.”

  She smiled. “So do you. There’s a contract in the envelope too. Read it over and sign it. That old windbag might just have a heart after all.”

  I pulled out the contract and skimmed through it. “You’re hiring me full time at minimum wage plus tips, and . . . ” Holy moly!

  “And you keep forty percent profit on events that you coordinate. Hank can see what you’ve tried to accomplish with the contest. If you want to continue your events, he said he’ll shut his pie hole for once. The only condition is the events should be planned with bikers in mind. They’re the heart of this bar.”

  I took out my pen and signed the papers. “I can already envision a whole year of events.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping.”

  I caught Hank in my peripheral vision trying to sneak away.

  “Hank!”

  He gave a shy nod and escaped through the kitchen but immed
iately withdrew. “Damn kids are always kissin’ and gropin’ everywhere!”

  “Who’s kissing?” Ida asked.

  “Jack and that girl who yells like a fishmonger’s wife.”

  “Andrea and Jack are kissing? I knew they had to like each other. No one can yell that loud, for that long without a little heat between them,” I said with an ear-to-ear grin. With the events calendar growing by the second, Jack and Andrea would make a great team and a great asset to my plans. And, I like love stories and all that stuff too.

  I gave Ida a kiss on the cheek and went to hug Hank before he dodged.

  “Go home,” Hank said. “Take a day off, would you? I’d like some peace and quiet tomorrow.”

  “Anything for my new boss.”

  He rolled his eyes and grumbled.

  Evan wrapped his arm around me. “Let’s go home, sugar. You need to rest.”

  “Sounds good. Have you heard from T?”

  “No. I haven’t heard anything.”

  “I’m going to yell at him. Then I’m going to take a nice long shower.”

  Evan’s eyes gleamed as he steered me to his motorcycle.

  As we drove through the quiet streets, my mind flip-flopped between thoughts. One thought was Evan in the shower. The other was Gemini. The two thoughts were so opposite of each other I was having trouble grasping either one. Wait . . . opposite . . . Gemini . . .

  Perhaps Gemini wasn’t about two people. Maybe it’s about a person with two personalities . . . or two lives . . . two jobs. Something struck. Two jobs.

  We know Grub was working with someone. Who? Aaron found the kids, Grub abducted them . . . why was there another person needed? Argh! A thought swirled through my mind, tormenting me.

  Aaron was calm seeing Grub but shrank behind me when Drier, Reed, and Kimball showed up.

  Gemini. Two jobs. Dark and light.

  Oh!

  An inside job? Kimball? I sensed an instant dislike. Could she be the one? She was adamant Aaron should come with her. It’s a start. I had to speak with T.

  Evan pulled in the driveway and killed the engine. A light glowed inside the house. T’s car was parked on the curb.

  “Did you find him?” I asked as I plowed through the door, Evan following two steps behind.

  “He hasn’t shown up. I’ve been keeping an eye on the car.”

  “I think Gemini might be Kimball.”

  “Why Kimball?” Evan asked.

  “Because Aaron wasn’t afraid when he saw Grub but hid behind me when Drier, Reed, and Kimball showed up. She was the only one adamant that he came with them. He yelled out Gemini when she tried to take him.”

  T thought. “Okay, I get that. Why would Grub work with her?”

  “It’s the other way around. Why would Kimball work with Grub?” I thought until my head whirled. “Aaron finds kids, Grubs collects kids, and Kimball makes them . . . fall through the cracks. It has to be her operation.”

  T nodded; his brows pinched together. “You’re onto something. Let me see if I can get Irvine to dig up some info.”

  “Irvine?”

  “The guy I was talking to today on the computer.”

  “I didn’t really see him as an Irvine.”

  “Names can be a traumatic for a kid.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “T.”

  “Trevor? Toby? Teddy?”

  “No. I’ll call Irvine. You watch the car.”

  “Looks like another long night,” Evan said. “I think I’ll take my shower.”

  I must have had a downcast expression because Evan whispered, “Just because I’m showering doesn’t mean I’m done for the night. But we’ll take it easy. I don’t want to hurt your rib.” A kiss on my forehead and he was up the stairs.

  I paced near the table, taking peeks out the window. My eyes caught the unopened white envelope with each pass. I should just open it and get it over with. I was strong enough to erase his phone number, I should be strong enough to either open it or throw the envelope away. Disgusted with myself, I turned from the table and peeked outside again.

  “Find out more info,” T said, ending the call. “Irvine might’ve found a record on Kimball. He’ll have to do a little more research.”

  “Should we call Drier or Reed and tell them our suspicion?”

  “Let’s wait for Irvine to call back. It’s too late tonight.”

  “Where do you think Aaron is?”

  T rubbed his head. “I have no idea. He probably found a place to sleep for the night. We should sleep too. There’s no sense in pacing the floors all night.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Even if he does show up, he was safe in the car before. I guess he’ll be safe again.”

  “Go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning, and we can start our search again.”

  “Thanks, T. I’m glad you’re helping even if it means Brett’s involved.”

  “I’d help either way.”

  “Goodnight.”

  “Night.”

  “Mars?” A thin, wavering voice floated into my dreams.

  I blinked awake and turned to Evan. He was sound asleep. His breathing slow and steady. I must have been dreaming, I thought and curled next to him.

  “Mars, we have to hurry.” A hand shook my shoulder, urging me to wake. I bolted out of bed. A piercing pain shot through my ribcage.

  “Wha . . . what’s going on?” I stuttered, searching the darkness.

  “We have to go. I’m serious. Please believe me!” His voice teetered on edge.

  “Aaron?”

  “Yes. Come on,” he urged, yanking my hand. “Please, Mars, let’s go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Trust me.”

  Evan stirred but didn’t wake.

  “I should wake Evan and T.”

  “No. Gemini doesn’t care about them. They’ll be safe.”

  The window shattered as a canister flew through. Evan jumped out of bed.

  “Get out!” Aaron screamed as smoke filled the room.

  Evan pushed us from the room slamming the door. Windows shattered throughout the house. Tear gas engulfed the air as we ran, coughing and gagging. We raced to the front door, blinded with tears as burning pain attacked our skin and eyes.

  We made it to the door. T ripped it open, allowing our escape into the fresh air and into the cool darkness.

  “Aaron?” I coughed, scanning through watery eyes. “Evan? T?”

  No sound but the fall of a footstep . . . behind me. I whipped around. An arm wrapped around me, crushing my rib. A cloth with a sweet smell pressed to my face. I wilted into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 22

  My head bobbed as I blinked my eyes open. They felt puffy and heavy just like the rest of my body. I was sitting on a metal chair. My wrists and ankles were bound tightly to it. My breathing labored as my injury throbbed. The pain killers wore off hours ago.

  Where am I? Shadows twisted through the room, filling nearly every inch. A dripping pipe was the only sound in the room.

  “Hello?” I croaked. I twisted my bound hands.

  A movement in the shadows prickled my skin. I stilled, listening for the sound. My pulse spiked rapidly.

  “Who are you?” I asked. Silence. “Where’s Aaron?” The dripping water was all I heard. My parched throat longed for those wasted drops.

  Footsteps fell near. I searched the blackness.

  “I know someone’s here.” I called.

  Spotlights flipped on. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “What’s wrong, Mars? Is the light too bright?” Malice saturated the voice.

  I blinked, trying to see past the lights.

  “Be a good girl. Smile for the camera.”

  “Why? So you can hold me for ransom? No one has enough money to pay.”

  “Ransoms attract too much attention,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Where’s Aaron?” I demanded.

  “One thing at a time. Smile.” His voice dripped
with acid.

  “Where’s Aaron!” I seethed, rattling the metal chair.

  “If you don’t smile, I’ll make sure your little Aaron suffers dearly.” His voice cut through. “More dearly than he already has. He worked hard to reel you in. It’s a shame he had a surge of conscious and must be taught a lesson. I have a feeling he’ll start to understand I can sell anyone. I expect a generous price. My buyers love a girl with a smile . . . someone they can have the pleasure of breaking.”

  The words barely registered as my mind numbed. Saving Aaron was my only thought.

  The man was still hidden in the shadows. I could hear clicking sounds.

  “Who are you? I thought Kimball was in on this.”

  “Kimball is a pain in my side. I knew she’d retrieve Aaron, I just didn’t think she’d follow procedures to the letter. I almost thought he’d slip through my fingers until he ran away.”

  “Reed? You’re . . . Gemini.” My voice barely above a whisper.

  He stepped into the light, his face tight with hostility. A twisted smile appeared. “Even if you know, you can’t do anything. You’ll be sold within the hour.” He straightened, reining his temper. “My buyers hate waiting for their American trinkets.” His finger slid along my jaw and down my throat. I forced myself steady.

  “You have a job to protect children.”

  “And I have a job to sell them. If it makes you feel better, I help more than I sell. I can’t sell every child I assist the police with. Luckily, my services are requested nationwide. Though, I always respectfully decline cases stemming from Grub’s team. Just wouldn’t seem right, would it?” His laugh filled the room.

  “What will happen to Aaron?”

  “You should be worrying about yourself, my dear. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to upload your photos. It’ll only be a minute; sit like a good girl.”

  “Then what happens?” I demanded.

  “You’ll be packed up and shipped like cargo.” I caught a slippery smile before he retreated into the darkness.

  “Wait! I have to go to the bathroom.” And escape . . .

  “Then I suggest you get used to it and relieve yourself in your present spot. There’s no toilet in a cargo box.”