Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries

Home > Other > Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries > Page 32
Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries Page 32

by K L Montgomery


  “Wait, whoa, slow down…” Dylan made his voice even and smooth. “Mandy, I understand you’re mad, but we need to focus on the business. What’s happening right now. And right now we need to deal with Sunshine. Now, if she goes missing, everyone in Bryce Beach is gonna—”

  “Aha! I know what this is about!” she raged, stomping by me yet again. “You like fat girls, don’t you? That night on the beach—that was another fat girl, the one you kissed in what, like fifth grade or something. And now you’ve been obsessed with this Sunshine person for weeks now! It’s because you’re secretly in love with her, isn’t it?”

  What the Helvetica is going on here? Amanda Boxbury had come unhinged. I heard a click—sounded like she’d cocked the gun.

  “Amanda, no!” Dylan screamed.

  The bullet exploded, the pop resounding through my ears and ricocheting off my eardrums. There was a scramble. Oh, Lord, tell me what to do! Show me where to go!

  “Sunshine, get down!” Dylan shouted.

  I burst out of the chair and landed hard on the concrete. Ouch! I still couldn’t see, and I didn’t have use of my hands. I had no idea where the best place to go would be, so I started to roll. Maybe I could roll behind some equipment or something.

  Meanwhile, another shot echoed farther away, and there was a scream. I didn’t know whose scream it was, but before it stopped, the sound of blaring sirens filled the air. Next thing I knew, my hands were being untied, and the bag was being lifted from my face.

  When I looked up, Dylan Steyer had his hand stretched out, offering to help me to my feet. There was the gold ring I saw earlier tonight on the boat—and now I remembered it from his Facebook photo.

  Why was the drug smuggler helping me?

  Was he secretly in love with me?

  Wouldn’t Molly flip out if he was?

  Seventeen

  “It’s okay,” he said, “she’s been subdued.”

  I looked across the warehouse, and the man I envisioned as Mr. T, first of all, looked nothing at all like Mr. T, though he was big and tall. And secondly, he had restrained Amanda Boxbury and was in the process of cuffing her hands behind her back.

  Dylan must have noticed the confused look on my face, because as soon as he pulled me to standing, he offered me his hand again. “I’m Dylan Steyer,” he introduced himself, “FBI.”

  “FBI,” I repeated, shaking my head. At the same time, a dozen or so men stormed the building, their boots thundering against the cement floor.

  I was so confused. Dylan was in on it? Did that mean Melody was too? I had so many questions.

  “C’mon, we’re going to take you to get checked out.” Dylan called over to two agents, both wearing navy jackets that read FBI in huge letters on the back. “This is Sunshine Baker. Can you take her over to Capital Hospital to be checked out?”

  “Sure thing, Agent Steyer,” the female agent said before shooting me a relaxed smile. “I’m Carolyn Shane. Can you come with us, please?”

  “Oh, wait,” Dylan said before I made it more than a few steps. “Here’s your phone back.”

  I didn’t realize till that moment how much relief was flooding through me. It was so powerful, I could only wobble on shaky steps back to where he was holding the phone out for me to take.

  “And, Sunshine,” he said as I turned again to leave, “thanks for your help.” He dipped his chin and gave me an appreciative smile.

  “Help?”

  “We couldn’t figure out how the other end of the supply chain worked. I knew they put the drugs in the crab traps at the marina and left them across the cove at Lighthouse Park, but the Coast Guard had been out there every night trying to catch them coming for the crab traps, and no one ever did.”

  “Right. I was having trouble with that part too.” I didn’t feel so bad about being stumped, not if it had also flummoxed the FBI.

  Amanda Boxbury shot me a murderous glare as Mr. T and another FBI agent hauled her out of the building. Totally worth it!

  Dylan’s head swiveled back to me after watching her leave. “That camera you had installed…”

  “Yeah?” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice. “I didn’t think it caught anything. How did you know about that?”

  “We were able to hack into the signal. We have some pretty cool technology at the FBI.” He grinned.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I have no doubt.”

  “We enhanced the feed, zoomed in. Those people in the parking lot the other night?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It was Amanda and one of her goons,” he revealed.

  I had figured out the one with the limp was Amanda. “But how did they get the drugs? They were wearing backpacks, but I never saw a boat.”

  “Those were scuba tanks,” Dylan corrected me.

  “They dove down for the drugs? But how…?” Then I remembered what Jada said about Mrs. Boxbury scuba diving all over the world. Going down twenty or thirty feet to get some crab traps was probably nothing for her.

  “We believe that’s why they only did three traps at a time. Those packets of heroin are pretty small—the boxes hold hundreds of them. They’d pull the boxes, replace them with empty ones, and stuff the full ones in their scuba vest. Where the weights go. At least that’s what we suspect. But we were looking so hard for a boat pulling up to get the traps that it completely escaped us that they were going in there in scuba gear. And none of our surveillance from the water was picking it up. Your camera did the trick. It had to be caught from land.”

  That didn’t satisfy all my curiosity, though. “Wow… But then what? How did they get the drugs up the coast?”

  “We hoped to learn that tonight, actually, but then, because I’d put a tracker on your car, we knew you were at the marina. She wanted you dealt with, once and for all. Two of her guys were putting tomorrow morning’s shipment in the traps, and I met them there to take care of you. She was supposed to be sticking around to pick up yesterday’s shipment at the park. My guys were going to follow her this time.

  “She’d never let me see that side of things before. I was only part of the operations from Moon Point to the Bryce Beach Marina. Once she found out we had you, she decided to meet us up here and go back for the crab traps later.”

  I still had so many unanswered questions! “So…where is ‘up here’?”

  “This is the Boxburys’ other plant in Fernville.”

  “Fernville?” I shook my head. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

  “Exactly.” He smiled. “We were hoping to figure out the other end of the distribution tonight, how they got the drugs from the crab traps further north. But now maybe Mrs. Boxbury will sing like a bird once we get her in our interrogation room. If not, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of her goons takes a plea deal and spills the tea.”

  I laughed. “This is just wow. So crazy.”

  “Wow is right. All of your legwork helped us crack the case. The FBI owes you a debt of gratitude, Sunshine Baker.”

  I called Molly on my way home to fill her in.

  “It’s two in the morning, Sunshine! This had better be good!”

  I shared how her story about Amanda helped me crack the case. And how she was probably getting bailed out by her husband right now. “No wonder she needed that crowdfunding page!”

  Molly cackled, piercing my eardrums with her melodic giggles. “No doubt! Well, serves her right. I can’t believe she said that about Dylan liking fat girls. She apparently didn’t learn her lesson when Melody stomped on her foot!”

  “Yeah, apparently not. I still don’t know all the details of the case or how Dylan got involved. They’re working on figuring out the other end of the distribution chain. He said something about a debriefing, but I’m sure I won’t be allowed to discuss the details.”

  “Probably not,” Molly agreed. “This is totally crazy though. I knew something was up with his Facebook profile. So apparently he has it for undercover work. No wonder he didn’t have
any workplace info showing! You probably don’t just put the FBI as your employer.”

  I chuckled. It felt good to laugh again after such a harrowing evening. I was exhausted, and the only thing that sounded better than dishing about the night’s events with Molly was curling up in my bed with Bond and Paige.

  “Was your life really in danger? Would she have taken you out?” Molly questioned.

  “I don’t know. It’s possible…but Dylan must have been pretty confident that I’d be okay. He had a lot of backup. I can’t believe she shot at him, though!”

  “Yeah, that’s so wild,” my best friend agreed. “So, what about Melody? She was working with her brother all along, then?”

  “Yeah, I think they sort of slid the investigation under the rug so the press wouldn’t go wild with the story and blow all their hard work. Dylan wanted the Boxburys to keep up their shipments so he could figure out both sides. It turned out that when they kidnapped me at the marina, they took me to the Boxbury’s second distribution center in Fernville. So they were actually passing drugs from one of their locations to the other.”

  “I can’t believe they were trying to pass the drugs through the cove instead of just driving them up there. It sounds so unnecessarily complicated,” Molly pointed out.

  “It’s because they were busted so many times en route up the interstate. They had to figure out a different way to get from Point A to Point B. We’re still not one hundred percent sure how they were getting them from Lighthouse Park to Fernville. I guess that will come out eventually.”

  I remembered what Dylan said about the big break being the security camera. “You can tell your brother-in-law that his camera saved the day.”

  “It did?”

  “Yeah, though it wasn’t very secure apparently. The FBI were able to hack into the feed.”

  Molly laughed. “I’ll tell him.”

  I explained that the people in the parking lot I thought were campers were actually Amanda and one of her associates, who dove down and retrieved the drugs in scuba gear.

  “Oh my gosh, she had scuba pictures on her Instagram account!” Molly shrieked.

  “Yeah, Jada mentioned something about her going scuba diving all over the world when she told me about meeting her and Mr. Boxbury a couple weeks ago,” I shared.

  “Oh, this afternoon after our conversation with Jada, I may or may not have stalked her social media. Her Facebook account was shut down, but her Instagram was wide open. Guess where most of her scuba diving pictures were from?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Uh, Mexico and South America…”

  “Drugs,” I gasped.

  “Exactly.”

  “She said she was trying to save money so she could leave her husband—apparently she couldn’t just divorce him and maintain her lavish lifestyle because she signed a prenup,” I revealed. “Oh! And we were right with our math. Carlton is Dylan’s son!”

  “Holy moly!”

  “I know! It’s so crazy.”

  “What are you going to tell Jada?”

  “I have no clue…”

  “Are you going to the church picnic on Sunday?”

  “Yup.” If I’m not knee-deep in another case by then…

  “I guess I’ll see you there. I can’t believe Friday is the 4th of July!”

  Yes, we had a busy holiday weekend on the horizon. “I totally forgot, I got so caught up in everything. I’ll let you know if I get debriefed. And if I talk to Jada. You better get some sleep, lady!”

  “This has been one wild ride. I’m so glad you’re okay, Sunshine.” Her voice trembled with sincerity as she shared the depth of her concern with me.

  “Me too. Thank you for all your help!”

  “We make a good team!” Molly exclaimed. “Talk to you soon!”

  Eighteen

  I had never in a million years imagined I’d sit in an FBI conference room to be debriefed about a case. But there I was, soaking up every detail they decided to share with me. There were still a few questions and plot holes here and there, but I also left out a few details of my own story. Namely how Liz Cooper had hacked into the DNR website, and how Evangeline had asked her ex-husband to get info from the state university’s marine biology lab. I didn’t feel like Liz, DW or Evangeline needed to be dragged into this drama.

  I did learn that Amanda and her henchmen, who were also scuba-certified, would stash their scuba gear in their truck and then hike the metal boxes up north through Lighthouse Park to the other side. They climbed a fence to privately owned lands just south of Fernville. Guess who owned them? Bob Summer. Acres and acres had been in his family for generations, and the Coast Guard never patrolled that close to shore.

  From there, they’d meet a boat waiting at a tiny little dock on Bob Summer’s property, which then shuttled them up the coast to the Fernville plant. It had a small dock like Moon Point. After that, the drugs were loaded onto their trucks that distribute seafood up the coast, but the interstate from there farther north was hardly patrolled.

  As I was walking out to my car, my phone rang with a familiar number. I’d already added it to my contacts, I’d used it so much in the past couple of months: The Bryce Beach Police Department.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Baker,” came the deep voice of none other than Chief Vincent James.

  “Well, hello there. What can I do for you?” I didn’t mean to sound cocky, but… I totally sounded cocky.

  “I heard you’ve been up to your old tricks again,” he said, unable to disguise the amusement that colored his tone.

  “Tricks,” I repeated. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Do you think you could stop by my office? I’d like to have a chat with you.”

  He didn’t make it sound like it was optional. And I didn’t want to be on his bad side—he was the long arm of the law, after all. “Sure, that’s fine. When?”

  “At your earliest convenience, please.”

  He was always so formal. And polite. But in a condescending way. Always carefully enunciating each and every word, making the consonants pop in my ears. “Sure, I can stop by there before heading back to work.”

  “Thank you. See you then.” That was it. He hung up.

  I rolled my eyes and sent Liz Cooper a text to let her know I wouldn’t be in until later that afternoon. She was coming by to put the finishing touches on the database she built after I’d asked for a few new features. Then I fired up my Mazda and rolled down the highway to that place my car was becoming rather accustomed to going: the police department.

  The infinite grayness greeted me as I stepped inside the building. The cadet, Allison Adams, whom I’d met during the Bryce Beach Bandit case, beamed as soon as she saw me approach the desk. She must have known I was coming to see Chief James, because she leapt up from behind the desk and gestured toward the hallway. “He’s waiting for you! Oh, I love your dress!”

  I twirled in a circle, making the full skirt of my retro-style floral-print dress spin out from my thighs. “Thank you!” So I’d dressed up to meet with the FBI folks. Can you blame me? My mother would have been very disappointed if I hadn’t. Some of those guys might even be single… I can hear her voice now!

  I made my way down the dismally gray hallway until I reached Chief James’s office. “Knock knock!” I said before poking my head into his open doorway.

  “Ah, Ms. Baker, come on in.” He pointed to the hot seat, I mean, the chair where I usually sat.

  “How are you doing, Chief James?” I crossed my legs at the ankles and looked at him expectantly.

  “Oh, probably not as well as you are.” It was impossible to read his intention by his tone. Was he being serious? Snarky? The way he folded his hands together on top of his desk made me think the latter.

  “I’m glad to be done with the case and know the Bryce Beach drug ring is now put to rest,” I answered as diplomatically as I could.

  “Yes, thank you for your help. I’d been told multiple
times by the Feds to let them handle the case. I couldn’t tell you they were investigating when you came to see me before.”

  “Oh, right.” Now his apparent nonchalance about the whole thing made a lot more sense.

  “So, if you thought I didn’t care that we had dead sea creatures washing up, then…”

  “I was wrong.” It really seemed like he wanted to hear me say it.

  “Well, mistaken, in any case,” he said. “The Coast Guard had alerted me some time ago that they suspected the trafficking that was occurring in the I-45 corridor had moved out to sea, and they feared something was happening in the waters of Bryce Cove. They increased their patrol, and it was shortly thereafter that we had the rash of dead fish and other marine animals. Fortunately, FBI Agent Steyer had a personal connection to the Boxburys and was able to go undercover. It’s my understanding he didn’t know at first that they were directly involved—he was only hoping to get a job with them and get an idea of what was happening out on the water.”

  “Wow, I see…”

  “They told me they suspected the shipments were originating out of Moon Point, but they were having trouble figuring out how they were getting moved across the cove,” he shared. “When you visited before, I knew they’d brought in a federal agent, but I didn’t know it was Dylan Steyer until this morning.”

  “Right…”

  “I just wanted you to know why I advised you to stand down,” he clarified.

  “Did you leave me the note?” I asked.

  “No, I believe that was the Feds,” he said. “They were tailing you. They knew about your camera at the lighthouse.”

  “So I heard.”

  “Well, in any case, I’m glad you’re safe, and I’m glad you were able to help, even when I couldn’t.”

  “I’m glad as well.” I folded my hands in my lap, words dancing on my tongue, but I wasn’t sure I could form them the right way.

 

‹ Prev