Of course I never made it that far.
But I did get about ten feet before Buck said, “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Lady.”
I ignored him and kept walking.
“I said stop!”
I considered arguing the point—he’d never said stop—but the silent treatment seemed to be far more effective.
I heard a gunshot behind me, and a bullet ricocheted off the concrete floor about ten feet to my left. I flinched, but anger quickly overtook the rush of terror. I kept walking. I’d won James over by hiding my fear and refusing to let him intimidate me, and I’d be damned if I’d kowtow to Buck, who was nowhere near the man James Malcolm was.
I could hear Buck’s footsteps behind me, but I didn’t even slow down. Another gunshot took out the back tire of the car.
“You plannin’ on walkin’ all the way back to Henryetta?” Buck shouted.
I stopped and slowly turned around to face him, wearing my Lady persona like a cape of courage. “If that’s what it takes.”
“I already told you I’m not lettin’ you go.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to shoot me.” I turned around and headed for the door.
This was insanity, and we all knew it. I was barefoot, and the minute or so we’d spent outside hadn’t given me any clue as to where we were. But dammit, I refused to beg Buck Reynolds for anything. He would treat me with respect . . . even if I had to die to get it.
I heard another gunshot, and this time the bullet hit the metal door. My right thigh felt like it was on fire, and for a second I was sure he’d shot me, but the pain was on the outside of my leg. Something had bounced off the door and grazed me. However I’d gotten the wound, it was bad enough that I felt blood running down my leg.
“Shit!” Buck shouted, leading me to believe he hadn’t meant to hurt me. Which told me he really did need me, and he’d been trying to intimidate me into submission.
I’d come to a halt already, so I turned around again. “You have a very interesting way of interviewing people for a job, Mr. Reynolds. So let me save us both time: Not interested.”
Tim Dermot’s eyes widened when he saw the trickle of blood running down my calf and seeping through the side of my skirt. “Malcolm’s gonna kill you.”
The look on Buck’s face betrayed his panic, which I knew wouldn’t work to my advantage. If he thought James would kill him, he was likely to kill me first and hide my body where it couldn’t be found.
“Let me make this perfectly clear, gentlemen,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but the burning in my leg was becoming overwhelming. “Skeeter Malcolm knows I’ve been taken, and if I don’t check in with him relatively soon, he will presume you killed me. I can assure you that he will come after you, and he will exact a very painful and most likely drawn-out death from all three of you. Doing away with me at this point would be a very bad idea.”
“She’s right,” Dermot said.
“Shut up!” Buck shouted.
“In fact,” I added, “if you return Scooter along with me, you might be able to work out some sort of lesser punishment.”
“I didn’t take Scooter Malcolm!” Buck shouted.
I didn’t believe that for a second, especially not now. “You’ve already kept me hostage and shot at me numerous times. You’re pretty much a dead man walking, but if you return Scooter, you might have a chance.”
“Are you deaf?” Buck yelled. “I didn’t take Scooter Malcolm!”
“Then where is he?”
“The hell if I know,” he said, sounding defeated. “That’s why I wanted to hire you. To find him.”
My mouth nearly dropped open. “If you can’t find him, how in Hades did you think I can?”
“You found my necklace, didn’t you?”
I put my hand on my hip. “Why would you ask me to find him when you’re so damn certain I work for Skeeter?”
“Because I was pinning my hopes on the fact that you didn’t. You claimed to be working to help the county; then you gave me the necklace when I know Malcolm wanted it. But now I think you were bullshittin’ us. Why would Malcolm care so much if you’re not screwing him? So you’re either sleepin’ with him or on his payroll.”
“I am not on his payroll. I provide services that help him ferret out turncoats, and before you ask, no, I will not be offering those services to you. The only reason I helped Skeeter in the first place was for the good of the county.”
“And to save your D.A. boyfriend,” he said with a sneer.
I shook my head in disgust. “Keep it up, Mr. Reynolds, and you’ll be diggin’ your own grave. Literally.”
“If I’m dead anyway,” he said, “why don’t I just take you with me?”
I shot him a deadly glare even though my courage was starting to wane. Nevertheless, I wasn’t going to beg this man for my life.
“Buck, think this through, man,” Dermot said. “This is goin’ all wrong.”
“No fuckin’ shit!” Buck shouted as he started to pace the warehouse.
Dermot walked around him and approached me. “Look, Lady. We didn’t take Scooter. We’ve got nothin’ against Scooter. He’s like Switzerland. No one wants to touch him, and if Malcolm was thinkin’ straight, he’d know we didn’t do it.”
I snorted. “And he probably thinks Mr. Reynolds isn’t stupid enough to shoot me, and yet here we are with a puddle of blood poolin’ at my feet.”
“Goddammit, Buck!” Dermot shouted, turning around to face his boss. “Why’d you have to go and throw a damn fit!”
“She wouldn’t listen to me!”
“We knew she wouldn’t, you damn fool! You were supposed to reason with her!”
“Let’s make this perfectly clear: I’m in charge here,” I said. “I’m making the rules, and if you can’t deal with that, shoot me dead right now.” It was a huge risk—a very stupid one—but I needed their respect, and this was the only way I could see to get it.
Neither man said anything. I’d just lived two seconds longer than expected.
I reached out my hand. “I need your phone so I can call Mr. Malcolm and have him send someone to pick me up. And if you’re respectful until his representative shows up, I’ll try to convince him not to kill you.”
Buck stopped pacing and shook his head. “No. We’ll take you to him.”
“If you think I’m stupid enough to get into a car with you—”
“We’re not in Fenton County. We’re in Louisiana. It will be faster if we take you.”
Louisiana? But our location was neither here nor there at that immediate moment. “If you think I’m gonna get in a car with three men who are carryin’ guns when I don’t have a weapon, let alone a pair of shoes, then you must be addled in the head.”
“How about we give you something to make you trust us?” Dermot asked.
I didn’t think that was possible, but I found myself saying, “I’m listening.”
“We’ll promise to lay low,” Dermot said.
“You can promise me the moon, but there’s nothing to stop you from shooting me before we get to the end of the road.”
“If we wanted to shoot you, we would have done it by now!” Buck shouted.
“And who’s to say you won’t take me back to Fenton County and then hold me hostage there?”
Buck took several steps toward me and stopped. “We could just toss you in the damn trunk like Landry did. But we haven’t. I need you, and even though we’ve gotten off to a rocky start, I think we can still salvage this.”
I released a sharp laugh. “You call this a rocky start? I’ll let you take me back, but I want your phone. I’m calling Mr. Malcolm before we leave. If I don’t return home safe and sound, I want him fully aware that you are responsible. Then and only then will I get in your car.”
“No,” he barked.
I turned around and nearly fell when pain shot through my leg.
“Dammit, Buck!” Dermot shouted. “We’re supposed to be savin’ our asses,
not puttin’ the stamp on our death warrants! Give her the damn phone!”
“Why in the hell would you trust her to make this call?”
“We don’t have a choice thanks to your trigger-happy finger.”
I’d taken several steps, trying my best not to limp, silently chanting I’m as badass as Neely Kate over and over in an effort to suck it up and ignore my pain, when Buck said, “Fine. Take it.”
I turned around and saw Buck holding out his phone to me. He approached slowly, his gun still hanging at his side.
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, that’s not doin’ it.” I pointed to his gun.
He shoved it in his pants, and I took the phone and started to punch in the number, thankful I’d committed James’ number to memory in case I ever needed it.
“Where the fuck is Rose?” James snapped into the phone with plenty of venom in his words. “If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God I’ll make you suffer until you’re begging me for mercy.”
I hid my shock. James had Buck Reynolds’ number programmed into his phone.
“James,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I’m okay.”
“You stole Reynolds’ phone?”
“No . . .” I looked into Buck’s face. “He gave it to me.”
“This is a ransom call.” His hard edge was back.
“No. It’s a long story, but the two men who kidnapped me are dead, and Buck and two of his guys freed me.”
“They’re the guys who showed up?”
“Yeah, but like I said, I’ll explain it all to you when I get back to Henryetta.”
“Where are you?”
“Buck says Louisiana, but I don’t know any more details. He and his men are bringing me home.”
“Don’t get in a car with them, Rose. Give me the location, and we’ll come get you.”
“That’s what this call is about—their guarantee to deliver me safely. Because now you know that my well-being is in their hands.”
“Put me on speakerphone,” he snarled.
I pushed the button, and James’ voice was amplified. “Reynolds, you listen to me and you listen good. If she comes back with so much as a paper cut, you’re a goddamned dead man.”
Buck’s gaze lifted to me, and I could see he was about to back out of the deal. James was going to flip his lid when he saw me.
“James,” I said, putting a lot of force into my tone. “I have a few scrapes and bruises. He can’t be held accountable for those.”
“I’ll deliver her nearly the way we found her.” Then Buck snagged the phone from my hand and ended the call. “Let’s go.”
Dermot headed for the car and grabbed a bag off the hood. “Before we go anywhere, I need to clean that wound up,” he said.
We all knew why.
“Gary,” Buck shouted to the third guy, who’d been leaning against the car and cradling his injured arm. “Stay with Tim and clean up the mess.”
“What?” I said. “It’s just gonna be you and me?”
Buck wrapped my arm around his neck, offering no preliminaries, then half-dragged and half-carried me to his car. “Open the back door.”
I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but Dermot opened the door. Buck practically dumped me onto the seat. “Dermot. Take care of it.”
“Let me look,” Dermot said as he dropped to his knees in front of me.
I pulled up my skirt, exposing my upper thigh. Dermot grabbed a flashlight and shone it on my leg.
He studied it for a moment with a serious expression. “It looks like a flesh wound—the bullet grazed you—but you’re gonna need antibiotics all the same.”
Dermot opened the bag and grabbed a towel, doused it with water from a bottle, then patted the area around the wound. I tried not to flinch, but it hurt like Hades.
“It looks like it’s nearly stopped bleeding. I can stitch it if you want.”
I shot him a look of surprise.
Buck started pacing. “Tim was a nurse before he came to work for me. He’s good.”
That was shocking. Nurses were supposed to be nurturing people, not killing men in gunfights, but the careful way Dermot wiped my leg told me that deep down he was a healer.
“Okay,” I said. Better to get as patched up as possible before I showed up on James’ doorstep.
Ten minutes later, Dermot had given me two stitches and cleaned the wound as much as possible given our situation. Buck had gone back into the warehouse, leaving Dermot and me alone together. He taped some gauze over my stitches and said, “What are you gonna tell Malcolm?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” Part of me wanted to tell James everything, but if I did, all hell would break loose.
Dermot frowned. “Look, I know that Buck did this to you, but he’s freakin’ out. He knows he’s number one on the suspect list, and we have no idea where Scooter could be. You are literally his last hope.”
My back stiffened. “Why should I give two figs about Buck Reynolds? He is not a nice person, so what in the Sam Hill are you doing hangin’ out with the likes of him?”
He gave me a wry grin. “Maybe I’m not a nice person either.”
“You’re bein’ nice to me now.”
“And you’re smart enough to know that part of me is doin’ it in the hopes of savin’ our skins.”
I held his gaze. “But part of you is doin’ it because that’s who you are deep down,” I said softly. “You’re a healer. So how did you get mixed up in this?”
He was quiet for a moment, in a way that told me he was thinking it through. “Sometimes you make a simple choice that starts you down a path you hadn’t planned on takin’ . . . and then you find there’s no turnin’ back.” He put on the last piece of tape and looked up at me. “How’d you get mixed up with Skeeter Malcolm?”
I glanced down at my leg. “That was one of those paths I’d never intended to take.”
“It might not be too late to get out of it, Rose,” he said gently. “Buck was willing to take a chance that you might be neutral, but if you keep turnin’ to Malcolm to bail you out, that won’t hold water for long.”
I could see the truth in what he said, but I wasn’t sure where that left me. I suspected I’d already fallen down the rabbit hole. The question was if I wanted to crawl out.
Chapter 11
Dermot dropped the tape into his bag and pulled out a pill bottle and placed it in my hand.
“This is antibiotic. Be sure to take it. It’s not uncommon for bullet wounds to get infected.” He pulled out another bottle and uncapped it, tapping several pills into his palm. “These are pain pills. Take one every four to six hours for pain. If you run out and need more, let me know and I’ll bring you some.” He dropped all but one of the pills back inside.
“I don’t think I should take that before I meet James. If I’m acting off, he’ll know and start askin’ questions.”
“He’s gonna know you were hurt. There’s blood all over your skirt.”
“I know, which means I’ll need my wits about me if I’m gonna handle this.”
“Then let’s numb your leg more so you’re not flinching from pain.”
“Okay.”
He injected enough lidocaine to ensure I wouldn’t feel a thing for several hours, then grabbed a gauze package from his bag. After he wrote something on the package, he handed it to me. “My number’s on the back. Like I said, call me if this gives you any trouble.”
I’d just stuffed it into my pocket when Buck came back out.
“We need to get goin’,” he said in a grunt. “Malcolm’s gonna have my hide.” He pushed Dermot out of the way, shoved my legs inside the vehicle—which didn’t hurt at all thanks to Dermot’s numbing injection—and closed the door.
He and Dermot got into another argument; then Buck stalked to the driver’s door.
I tried to open the door and found it locked. When I tried to unlock it, I discovered it had been child-proofed.
“I want Dermot to t
ake me back,” I said in a short tone.
Buck’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Why? He say some pretty words to get on your good side? Well, my job for the next forty minutes is to convince you to find Scooter.”
“If I find Scooter, it’s sure as hell not gonna be to help you.”
“I just saved your life.”
“Yeah, and then you shot me.”
“It was an accident!”
“Save your breath, Mr. Reynolds. I only help people I trust. You would be one of the last people to end up on that list.”
“Then it’s gonna be a long damn car ride,” he grunted.
“So be it.”
He was right. It was a long drive, and it gave me plenty of time to think about everything that had happened tonight. I had a name and address for one of the kidnappers. I needed more information about the other guy, and Buck had it.
Then there was the matter of Scooter. If Buck had taken Scooter, then why would he go to so much trouble to ask me to look for him? It seemed likely he was innocent—of this—which left a big question mark as to what had happened to James’ brother. And that meant plenty of upheaval in the county—not just because James was on a warpath, but because someone had stolen one of his loved ones. It was the kind of thing that made someone in that world look weak.
Of course, if I helped Buck, there was a chance I’d be asked to help others in the criminal world. Aside from all the other implications, none of them knew about my visions, and it would be dangerous for anyone to find out. Still . . .
What if I had the opportunity to make this county safer?
I couldn’t ignore the fact that looking for Scooter would help the county, not to mention James. He had to be worried sick.
“What do you know about Scooter’s disappearance?” I asked in a direct tone.
Buck sat up in his seat as though I’d startled him. “I know he worked his shift at Walmart last Wednesday and didn’t show up the next day.” He caught my gaze in the rearview mirror. “When I caught wind that Scooter was missin’, I knew right away that I’d be at the top of the suspect list. We didn’t waste any time before diggin’ around ourselves, but we came up with a whole lot of nothin’. Everyone likes Scooter. He dabbled in Skeeter’s businesses years ago, but for the last five years or so, he’s stayed out of it.”
For the Birds: Rose Gardner Investigations #2 (Rose Gardner Investigatons) Page 11