Alfric grinned. A soft snore whispered across the back of his neck and he noticed his temporary partner felt heavier against his back.
She was apparently asleep.
His finely honed protective instincts surged and Alfric couldn’t help wondering what a girl like Pleasance Roberts had been doing dancing…both literally and figuratively…with the likes of Jon-Luc Raia.
Sighing, he urged the horse into a gentle trot, tightening his arm across his riding buddy’s arms at his waist to keep her from slipping as they picked up speed. The sooner he got them to Crimshaw/Crocker the sooner he could start working on getting them out of their current predicament.
And the sooner he could rid himself of the beautiful parcel full of trouble currently snoring against his back.
Lord knew he had enough challenges in his life without taking on Pleasance Roberts and her passel of questionable acquaintances.
Chapter Five
“What do you mean he’s disappeared?” Edric Honeybun said a little too loudly. The patrons in the coffee shop looked up in alarm and he turned away, lowering his voice. “Has anybody heard from him?”
The pretty brunette behind the counter touched the arm of the young boy working with her and said a few words. Then, she came from behind the counter and approached him, worry settling into her pretty green eyes.
Edric turned as she approached and reached out to grab one of her hands, squeezing gently. “Yeah. Okay. Keep me posted. I’m gonna try to reach some of his…associates.”
Edric hung up and turned to the pretty owner of the Dunk and Run Coffee Shoppe…who also happened to be his older brother, Alastair’s, fiancé. She looked worried. Edric tried a smile. “Don’t panic…”
She frowned, “What’s happened? Is it Alastair?”
Edric shook his head, drawing her toward the table furthest from the rest of the patrons. They sat down at the little table and Edric leaned close. “Alastair’s fine. It’s Alfric.”
The worry disappeared for a beat and then returned, in a slightly different flavor that was just as intense. “Oh my god, Edric! Has he had an accident?”
“We don’t know. He’s disappeared. Nobody’s heard from him in twenty-four hours.”
Angie bit her full bottom lip. Her pretty, heart shaped face was filled with misery. “Do we need to call a family meeting?”
Edric almost grinned. It hadn’t taken Angie long to get into the Honeybun frame of mind. A family meeting was just what they needed. Unfortunately, they didn’t have time. He shook his head. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for that. You know Alfric’s line of work…”
Angie nodded, her frown deepening.
“If something’s happened to him it will be serious and time will be of the essence. We need to get to his job vault and see what his instructions are.”
Angie nodded, looking a bit more chipper. “I forgot about his vault. That should help us find him right?”
Edric knew she would worry herself sick if he told her the truth…so he lied to her. “Yup. It should definitely help. Now I need to get going. Can you do me a favor?”
She nodded exuberantly. “Anything. What?”
Edric stood up and started gathering his computer and research stuff. He often came to the Dunk and Run to write, finding the combination of activity and anonymity refreshing. “Call Stair and tell him to meet me at the vault. I’ll need his key to open it.”
“You got it.” Angie stood up and turned toward the counter. But she stopped and grabbed his wrist, marveling as always at how strong and capable it felt under her fingers. At six foot three inches, Edric was the tallest of the Honeybun brothers and his long limbs appeared stringy, as you would expect for someone of his height. But they were far from stringy. He was pure muscle from head to toe, disguised under overlarge sweatshirts with his favorite college and professional football team logos on them and loose fitting jeans with sneakers. He was an extremely powerful man who camouflaged himself well. “Be careful. Okay?”
Edric leaned down and kissed her soft cheek. “Always. I’ll take good care of your man too. He’s a hopeless idiot on his own.”
Angie chuckled and shook her head. “Funny, that’s what he says about you.”
Edric laughed and headed toward the door. He climbed into a spotless, black Jeep Liberty and settled his computer on the front passenger seat. As he pulled out of the lot, he was already punching numbers into his Blackberry.
By the time he’d reached Wells Security Vaults on First Street he was very concerned. Alfric’s fellow agents all said the same thing. Alfric had gone outside the playbook on his current assignment and gotten himself into trouble. He was outside now…shut off…on his own.
“Not bloody likely,” Edric said as he punched another number into his phone.
Brita Muldane, an extremely talented detective with the Indianapolis Police Department, answered on the second ring. “Muldane.”
“It’s Edric.”
“What’s wrong? Is Percy okay?”
Edric smiled. Apparently Detective Muldane wasn’t as disinterested in his brother as she would have everyone believe. “Percy’s fine. I’m calling about Alfric. He’s gone off the grid.”
The sound of a door closing preceded Brita’s response. “You want me to see what I can find out?”
Edric climbed out of the jeep and headed into the bank. “I’m at Wells right now. We’re going to open up Alfric’s job vault. I’d like you here if you can come.”
Brita didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Edric hung up and made one more call. He smiled as he gave instructions to his oldest brother.
He went inside and spoke to a security agent. Then, he waited in the lobby for the others, figuring they might as well all go down to the vault together. Alastair arrived first, looking slightly harried, his blue eyes wide and filled with worry under his close cut spike of red hair. He offered a large hand to his younger brother. “Dric, you ready?”
Edric pumped his brother’s hand and shook his head. “We’re waiting for a couple more.”
Alastair narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. “Who?”
Edric just smiled.
Brita and the oldest Honeybun brother arrived at the same time, ironically and predictably, from opposite sides of the building. Brita had walked over from the Police Station and entered from the back parking lot. Percy came in the front door. They stopped as they spotted each other and Brita frowned.
Percy grinned.
Brita looked at Edric. “You didn’t tell me he would be here.”
Edric grinned at Percy. “You didn’t ask.”
Brita shook her short, choppy cap of light brown hair and turned, obviously intending to go back out the door she’d entered through.
Alastair, throwing his brothers a glare, stopped her. “Brita! Wait. We really need your help. Please stay.”
Brita stopped with her back to them. Her tall, lean body was taut with the obvious need to flee. She tapped one foot, clad in a sexy leather boot, on the carpet before her. The three brothers clustered together, watching her as they’d watch a terrified deer in the woods.
Alastair smacked Edric on the arm and his younger brother shrugged, making innocent faces.
Finally, the security agent broke the tension. She walked up to them with a large key in her hand. “Are we ready?”
As one, the three Honeybun brothers looked at the beautiful woman across the lobby. With a giant sigh Brita started toward them. As they followed the security agent toward the vault room, Brita said, “I’m only doing this to help Alfric. I don’t want anybody to get any wrong ideas.”
Alastair put his arm around Brita’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. Behind their backs Percy and Edric did rock knuckles and waggled their eyebrows. Seeing them, Alastair shook his head and murmured too low for Brita, who had preceded them through the door into the vault room, to hear. “Flippin’ idiots.”
Pleasance twisted the white cotton blouse tightly
and hung it carefully on a wire hanger on the shower rod to dry, next to Alfric’s socks. They’d limited themselves to two cheap and simple sets of clothing each so they wouldn’t have to use Alfric’s credit card. Fortunately, he’d had a decent wad of cash in his pocket.
Pleasance’s purse with all her charge cards had been dropped when her car blew up so she had nothing…except for the twenty dollars he’d given her for emergencies.
The two of them had been tucked into a small, dingy motel room in a little country town called Crimshaw since late the night before, keeping a watchful eye out for Jon-Luc’s men. Pleasance had spent the time in restless uncertainty. She wasn’t convinced she had anything to fear from Jon-Luc. Her life had been safe and sane until she’d been forced to run from, and then later with, Alfric Honeybun.
Speaking of Alfric Honeybun, Pleasance wondered where he’d gone. He’d left the room more than an hour earlier to get them some food. She was surprised he’d been gone so long. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the idea that he’d left her there, alone, in that dingy motel room in Crimshaw and gone back to wherever he’d come from.
Heading over to the room’s only window, which was covered in dusty, dark green drapes, Pleasance pulled one side of the drapes back and looked out onto Crimshaw’s main street. Several Amish carriages, complete with lean, competent looking horses, were tied up across the street at the town’s only hardware store. A few people walked and gathered for conversation on the street, and the owner of the town’s only bar was outside sweeping the sidewalk in front of his building.
No Alfric Honeybun.
She sat down at the table under the window and grabbed a pencil. Pulling the small notepad she’d been using for sketches across the table, she flipped to a new page. An Amish buggy and horse began taking shape under her talented fingers.
After a few moments, Pleasance settled the pen on the table next to the pad and sighed. She was tired of waiting around. She made a sudden decision. If he’d deserted her, the sooner she found other arrangements to get home, the better. She’d hitch a ride in an Amish buggy if she needed to.
Having made that decision, Pleasance felt better. She slipped cheap, white, canvas sneakers onto her feet and grabbed the extra key card from atop a battered dresser. Shoving the card into the pocket of her jeans, she opened the deadbolt and slid the chain off its track. She opened the door just a crack and peered through before exiting the room and ducking into a nearby alley. She would cut through the alley to a little diner she and Alfric had spotted on the way into town and get a bite to eat. Then, hopefully, she could use the diner’s phone to find a way back to Indianapolis.
She walked quickly and kept looking over her shoulder. Feeling suddenly paranoid and stupid, Pleasance shook her head and forced herself to take deep breaths and slow down. All the skulking around she’d done over the past twenty-four hours had gotten her nowhere. They hadn’t seen a single sign of Jon-Luc’s men and nobody had accosted them. Not for the first time, she wondered if she’d been holed up with a crazy man who saw spooks and monsters around every corner.
It was ridiculous to think that Jon-Luc’s men were trying to kill her. If anything they were probably after Alfric, for whatever reason. That thought didn’t make her feel a lot better. After all, she’d been running with Alfric for two days. And it also meant that Jon-Luc was capable of killing.
Not a comforting thought.
But then a happier thought occurred: maybe Jon-Luc’s men were trying to save her from Honeybun.
Jon-Luc’s last words to her…spoken at the ball just before she ran…slid across her mind. “This man is very dangerous, mon chou. Because my father was an Arab he has targeted me. Qamra has just informed me that he overheard the man’s operatives talking about taking you in for questioning. You must run…through my rooms. Qamra will bring your car to the front of the house.”
Pleasance, not accustomed to intrigue in her protected little world, had frowned at him, not understanding at first.
Jon-Luc’s lips had touched her ear, making her shiver as he said the most frightening words of all, “Have you ever heard of Rendition?”
Pleasance had gasped, her gaze flying to the red haired man across the dance floor. And she had run.
Yes. She had definitely heard of Rendition, the government’s practice of sending suspected political criminals to other countries to be tortured for information. Jon-Luc’s implication had been plain. If she didn’t get away, Alfric’s organization, whatever it was, would send her somewhere and torture her to get information about Jon-Luc.
Information she didn’t have.
Pleasance frowned as she neared the end of the alley. Nothing in Alfric’s manner since they’d been forced to run away together had hinted at the fate Jon-Luc had laid out for her. But Pleasance couldn’t deny that her troubles had all started…and had continued to unfold…since she’d first laid eyes on Alfric Honeybun.
She heard voices behind her and stopped. One of the voices held a familiar note. It was a deep, gravelly voice with a heavy foreign accent. Pleasance turned, hesitating. She suddenly felt as if it might make more sense for her to return to Jon-Luc and put herself under his protection.
She took a tentative step forward.
From out of nowhere, an arm snaked around her chest and yanked her backward, hard. She shrieked in surprise but the hand covering her mouth muted the noise so that the three men who passed the mouth of the alley on the other end didn’t hear it.
Before she could do more than kick out a couple of times with her sneakered feet, Pleasance was dragged around the corner and into a small niche, probably the entrance to a basement level apartment, in a three story brick building. A large tree in front of the building blocked her view of the street and most likely blocked the awareness of any passersby that she was being abducted.
A harsh, angry whisper tickled against her ear and a hard chest kept her upright as her knees threatened to buckle under her. “”What the hell do you think you’re doing? Those were Raia’s men, they could have seen you.”
The arm softened on her chest and the hand slipped away from her mouth. She turned to look into a pair of hostile blue eyes.
Apparently Alfric Honeybun hadn’t deserted her after all.
“Jon-Luc Raia,” Percy said with a frown. “I’ve heard of him.”
Brita snorted. “Who hasn’t? The man’s a multi-billionaire and he has full diplomatic immunity.”
“He’s a diplomat?”
Percy shook his head. “Only in the loosest use of the word. He’s supposedly here to discuss Muslim-Christian relations. France has one of the largest populations of Muslims in a non-Arab nation.” Percy grimaced. “Apparently some brain trust has decided America is hostile to Muslims.”
“Not Muslims of course, but something certainly needs to be done about Shariah law,” Brita told Percy as if it was his fault the religious law existed. “The treatment of women under Shariah is atrocious.”
Percy shrugged. “You’re preachin’ to the choir here, Brit.”
She glared at him. “Stop talking.”
Alastair and Edric chuckled.
Alastair looked down at the small notebook Alfric had left behind for them in his job vault. In the notebook, Alfric had made meticulous notes about what he was doing and where he was at any given point in the assignment. He didn’t give them sensitive details about the suspect, but he detailed the assignment at a high level in case something happened and he needed help. He’d made a practice of logging his cases ever since he’d joined the deep cover agency. He knew if he was ever cut loose his family might be the only lifeline he had. With a senator and powerful legal connections in the family, and a variety of well-placed, well-connected family members, the Honeybun clan was a pretty good lifeline.
Alastair looked back up. “So why is Raia under investigation? On the surface it certainly sounds as if he’s well intentioned at least.”
Brita grimaced. “All I have are rumors and specu
lation. The word is that Raia’s not really interested in Muslim or women’s rights. In fact he might just be one of the biggest violators of women’s rights in his country. There’s been strong suspicion for about a year now that he’s running a slavery ring. Apparently there’s a market among the ruling class in the Middle East for unwilling women who’ve grown up in the West and are more…shall we say…experienced.”
Edric spoke up for the first time. “If that’s true, how the hell did this monster not only get a Visa but also immunity?”
“He’s in really tight with the royal family in Saudi Arabia. He’s here as their representative. Apparently, when he was very young his father saved a couple of princes from a drunk on the street who didn’t think they deserved to live better than he did. The whole Raia family was ushered into the ruling class, given a sizeable oil stipend, and provided all the benefits and amenities that go with being one of the elites.”
“But he lives in France?”
Percy nodded. “Jon-Luc Raia moved to France, to live with his mother when he was eleven. She raised him there and his father agreed not to slice off her head for leaving him only if she would allow their son to be trained in a Madrassa. He went to college in France and he’s been swimming around in an ocean of money since he graduated. Only some of it’s coming from his family’s oil stipend.”
Brita chimed in again. “And since he’s been here, several female students at IU and one very attractive female professor have disappeared.”
Edric frowned, his writer’s mind churning with questions and possibilities. “So, if it’s true, how are they smuggling the women out of the country?”
Percy frowned, “Unfortunately it would be easier than you think. Because of politically correct thinking and sensitivities to Shariah law, women who are dressed in Burqas are rarely checked in airports. All our man would have to do is drug and gag the victim and stick her in a Burqa. No one would ask her to lower the veil and she wouldn’t be searched, especially if she’s traveling with an emissary from the Saudi royal family. It’s too politically sensitive.”
Life Liberty and the Pursuit of a Honeybun Page 4