by J Grayland
“Where?”
“It’s a little place about ten miles up the oceanfront, but they have a little street market there today, and I thought we might find some little treasures to fill this place with.”
Even though I hated shopping, I actually found myself shivering a little in anticipation, not just for finding some treasure, but also to spend more time with this wonderful woman.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I said, picking up my purse and dropping my phone into it.
Chapter Twenty
Nate
“I’m not sure about this, Nate. You know there’s more to that club than meets the eye, right?” Paxton said, giving me that certain look he has when he wants to say more but is deciding not to. “I think you should leave it up to the police,” he said as he worriedly paced my office.
“You worry too much, Paxton. It’s not a big deal, and the cops will be involved. Alonzo just wants some help grabbing not just the barman, but his supplier, as well, and he wants to do it without any disruption to the club,” I told him with as much reassurance as I could. I knew what Paxton was like whenever I got personally involved with any kind of security operation. If there was one thing that I always appreciated about my little brother, it was his dedication to having my back at all times, even though sometimes I had to do a little sugar coating.
Paxton was always the one who loved to sit behind the protection of a desk in a building and wreak havoc through legal channels, and I’ve always been the complete opposite. I liked being hands on. I liked the dirty work. I always liked the excitement, the thrill of a challenge. That’s what made us a great team and why we always got things done.
“It’ll be fine, I promise. Just sit, will you? You’re going to walk a permanent path in my floor.” I grinned at him, causing him to let out a sigh and drop into a chair opposite my desk.
“Fine, but I just don’t understand why you can never do things the easy way.”
“Because life would be boring then, and I’m an asshole.” Paxton visibly relaxed, laughed, and nodded in agreement.
“You got that right.”
I arrived at The Bizarre just before 7 that evening. The large, bald security guard standing at the front door gave me a nod and opened the door, letting me into the club where I made my way through to Alonzo’s office at the back. A last minute decision to stop off at Stella’s restaurant to grab a quick bite before coming here was a good one. I knocked on Alonzo’s heavy, wood door and entered when I heard him say, “Come in.”
As soon as I walked in, he rose from the chair behind his desk, coming around to grasp my hand in his.
“Hey, great to see you again. Please, take a seat,” Alonzo said, gesturing toward a chair in front of his desk. I watched as he strolled toward the small bar in the corner, pulled out two crystal tumblers, and poured us both a drink. He handed me one of the glasses as he took his own and sat in the chair next to me. Bringing the tumbler to my mouth, I inhaled the woodsy smell of the aged whiskey before taking a drink and letting the amber liquid warm my stomach and relax me from the inside out.
“It won’t take long for the club to fill tonight. There’s already a long line outside,” Alonzo said, pointing to one of the screens attached to the wall in his office. I looked up to see the large crowd of people starting to gather at the front door, waiting to gain access via the same security guard who let me in just moments before.
“Yes, I saw a line out there as I came in. Looks like business is doing well?”
“Yes, very well. We are full every night, and on Friday and Saturday, we always have to turn people away.”
“That’s good. We all want our businesses to be successful,” I said, raising my glass to him.
“Yes, but we also want our business to have a good, clean reputation. That is very important for me,” Alonzo said.
“I agree, and that’s why we are going to do some cleaning tonight,” I said, grinning.
We both sat and watched the several screens that were attached to the wall, showing all the major areas in the club. We kept the middle screen focused on the bar where we had previously identified the suspicious deal, and flipped the others between other areas of the club. The plan was to catch a deal taking place on camera between the barman in question and his accomplice. I would then take one of the bouncers down to the bar, have him cover the door, and grab the supplier as he tried to leave. In theory, we would catch them both in action, then take them into Alonzo’s office for some questioning before calling in the cops.
As the night progressed, I was starting to get annoyed that nothing had happened, I had hoped this was going to be quick so I could get home. I hated leaving Casey out at the beach house on her own for such a long time. I was starting to think it might have been a better idea to have brought her to stay at the penthouse for the night, but it was too late now. I would just have to ride this thing out and hope this didn’t turn out to be a big waste of time. I was just starting to lose patience when I noticed the same guy from the other night slowly move up to the bar and pull himself up onto a stool. Standing, I pointed to the screen.
“Okay, that’s him right there,” I said, heading for the door, leaving Alonzo to make sure they get the video evidence we needed. I lifted my chin to the bouncer waiting outside Alonzo’s office door, signaling for him to follow. Once at the bar, the bouncer made his way to the closest and only exit while I made my way to the end and sat on a stool. I was a few seats down from the dealer; not too far away, but not close enough to make him suspicious either. I watched as the barman served drinks to other patrons standing at the bar before serving his buddy a beer. I closely watched the interaction between the two men through their eye contact. It was like they were having a conversation without words, which confirmed my suspicion that these two had been working as a team for a long time. The supplier was on his third beer when he signaled to the barman to settle up. I watched as his hand, covering a large wad of cash, moved toward the barman, who, in turn, took it, stuffed it into his pocket, and then passed something back. Looking over at the bouncer standing at the exit, I gave him a nod and then slid off the stool, making my way behind the bar. My eyes darted between the three men in motion, and I saw the supplier look at me nervously before moving away from the bar. The barman looked up at me.
“Hey man, only staff are allowed back here,” was all he managed to get out before I stood directly in front of him and said, “I guess it’s good that I’m staff then, isn’t it?” before grabbing his arm. With a quick twist and bend, I pulled his arm behind his back in a stronghold.
“Fuck, man, what are you doing?” the barman yelled out over the thumping music.
“Putting an end to your drug career,” I growled as I pushed him from behind the bar and down the hall to Alonzo’s office. The door was already open, and I pushed him inside and then, with my other hand on his shoulder, I pushed him down. This forced him to sit in the chair directly across from where Alonzo sat, elbows leaning on his desk with his fingers laced together in front of him, his eyes now focused on his barman in front of him, who now nervously looked around the room while rubbing his shoulder.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked, his voice sounding jittery.
Alonzo just stared at him for a few minutes, making him squirm uncomfortably in his chair. Then he looked down at a piece of paper in front of him before looking back up. “Travis, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And how long have you worked for me, Travis?”
“Since you opened,” Travis answered with slight hesitancy.
“And how long have you been dealing drugs in my club?” Alonzo roared out, smashing both his palms on his desk and standing. Travis slunk back into his chair, trying to get as far away as possible.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Travis answered in a low voice.
“Don’
t lie to me. I have been watching you for some time now, and it’s all on camera,” Alonso said, pointing up at the screens on the wall.
Travis looked up and saw the paused picture on the middle screen that showed a close up of his hand passing the buyer a small white package, then breathed out a defeated sounding breath.
“It’s not a big deal, and it’s good for your club. The customers get high, they enjoy the night, and drink more, so it’s a win-win situation,” Travis said nonchalantly.
“A win-win situation?” Alonzo seethed out between gritted teeth. “I thought your little friend was your supplier, but now I see it is you that is the supplier. In my club, do you know what would happen if we were caught with drugs on the premises? My business, my reputation, everything would be gone in the blink of an eye, and you sit there telling me that you are providing my club with a good service?”
Travis just shrugged in response, which only ignited Alonzo’s fury more. “People like you make me sick. You get paid well, you get great tips and bonuses, but it’s still not enough, and your only response is to shrug.” Alonzo shook his head in disgust then looked straight at me, his eyes almost burning red. “Please, get him out of my face before I do something that I will regret. The police are outside waiting for him.”
“Sure thing,” I said. Slapping a hand to the collar of his shirt and pulling Travis up to a standing position, I pushed him toward the door.
“By the way, Travis, you’re fired!” Alonzo spat out.
Once outside the office, I noticed the bouncer walking toward me, alone. “I’m sorry, Mr. King. The little prick was fast. I lost him.”
Letting out a curse and shaking my head in frustration, I just looked at him, completely baffled how a guy this big, standing at the only exit from the bar, could let someone get past him so easily. “Then you had better go tell your boss that yourself, but I’m warning you, he’s not in the best of moods right now.”
Letting out a sigh, with shoulders slumped, the burly bouncer knocked on Alonzo’s door and entered.
Pushing Travis in the back to make him move in the direction of the front door to the awaiting police car, he stumbled, but straightened himself before walking. “I just don’t understand what the big deal is, man,” Travis said, looking over his shoulder to talk to me as we continued to walk.
“That’s your problem. Save it for the cops,” I growled.
“Come on, give me a break,” he almost whined.
“Shut the fuck up and move,” I said, giving him another shove toward the door, his bargaining technique of whining starting to grate on my nerves. Moving through the crowd of people, I stuck close to the little prick. I had no intention of letting him slip into the crowd. Almost at the glass front door, I could see two police officers, and I gave Travis one last push to the middle of his back into the bouncer, who wrapped a huge looking hand around Travis’s neck before opening the door to escort him out. It was then I noticed the look on the bouncer’s face. His eyes were locked on something behind me, wide and glaring. I saw his hand come up with a stop motion, and then I felt a hard whack at the back of my skull, followed by the sound of splintering glass. A sharp pain speared through the back of my head causing me to see tiny stars floating in front of my eyes, and then…blackness.
Chapter Twenty-one
Casey
I never thought I would use the words “shopping” and “great day” in the same sentence, but that’s exactly what today was. After spending time at the street markets with Carmel, there was no other way to explain it. We went from trawling through colorful pillows and throw rugs, to picking through boxes of fruit, squeezing, smelling, and purchasing enough fruit to live on for a month. Carmel showed me her secret to picking the freshest fruit available and how to get a great bargain on anything. I don’t think I have ever laughed so much, listening to her barter a good price on what I considered already cheap fruit. She joked and chatted with the vendors, and after seeing her in action, I was pretty sure she could charm the pants of a car salesman.
We found a small café on the beachfront where we stopped, ordered some lunch, and continued to chat and laugh about all the bargains we had accumulated. After lunch, we drove back to Jacaranda House, where she helped me carry all of my purchases from the boot of her car to stack them in the middle of the living room. “Thank you so much, Carmel. I had such a great day,” I said as we walked back out to her car.
“No, thank you, sweetie. I had a ball, although I didn’t really earn my wages today,” she said, stepping in and giving me a hug.
“Oh, believe me, you certainly did,” I said, smiling at her.
“Well, I will make sure I plan something fun for next week then, as well,” she said as she slid into her car and closed the door. With a wave, I watched as she drove down the driveway and out of sight. I went inside to have a good look through my shopping bags with excitement.
After distributing pillows, throw rugs and various little pieces of colorful pottery that I had picked up at the market, it was starting to get dark outside. I locked all the doors, as instructed by Nate, then made myself a quick sandwich and a hot cup of tea, and settled down on the couch with the remote, intent on doing some channel surfing until Nate got back.
Waking with a startled jump at the sound of a huge explosion, I quickly sat up and squinted my eyes at the large TV screen. It was full of bright orange flames and exploding cars from the action movie that must have followed the romance movie I was watching when I fell asleep. Grabbing the remote, I flicked off the TV and was instantly thrown in to the silence of nothing but the crash of the waves outside. Rubbing my eyes, trying to wake myself up, I jumped again when I heard my phone ringing in the kitchen. Hopping up, I headed over to it and just caught it as it almost vibrated off the kitchen island. Looking down, I saw Paxton’s name flashing across the screen.
“Paxton?” I answered sleepily.
“Casey.” The urgency in his voice instantly snapped me to attention.
“Paxton, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Nate, we’re at the hospital,” was all I heard before the phone line crackled and cut off. Frantically, I dialed his number and got nothing. I cursed and dialed Nate’s phone, which went straight to voicemail. Pacing back and forth in the kitchen, I kept dialing between Paxton and Nate’s phone, and still nothing. Frustrated, I threw my phone toward the couch, where it bounced off onto the floor.
What the fuck was happening? My mind was chaotic with potential scenarios, and all that was going through my head was Paxton’s words, “It’s Nate, we’re at the hospital.” Nate was hurt, and they were at the hospital. “Shit, shit, shit,” I said out loud. I ran into the bedroom, pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed a jacket from the closet, and slipped on a pair of sneakers. I ran back out to the living room, picking up my purse and retrieving my phone from the floor.
At the front door, I searched the keys in the glass bowl, pulling out the ones for the SUV. I ran out, slamming the door behind me. Pressing the fob for the lock, with the blink of the lights, I yanked open the door and slid into the driver’s seat. My anxiety started to heighten as I pushed the key into the ignition and fastened my seat belt. With both hands gripping the steering wheel, I let out a deep breath whilst dropping my forehead down to lean against my now white knuckles.
“You can do this, get a grip. Nate is hurt,” I said to myself. I was trying to muster up enough courage to drive this fucking monster truck on the opposite side of the bloody road. Just the thought made my stomach start to churn and the beginnings of nausea started to form with the anxiety. My mind kept replaying Paxton’s words. “It’s Nate, we’re at the hospital.” That was enough to make me force the rising bile back down, take a deep breath, then slowly let it out. I turned the key, bringing the motor to life and shifted into gear before punching “Portland hospital” into the GPS and driving down the driveway.
After a
couple of miles out on the open road, I felt myself starting to relax. As long as I didn’t hug the curb too tightly whilst trying to stay as far to the right-hand side of the road as possible, I would be okay. I told myself, logically, that I had been driving for years and that I could do this to take my mind off going through all the different scenarios as to why Nate was at the hospital. What the hell happened? Was he hurt? Just the thought of him being hurt in any way caused the nausea to start forming again in my stomach. Pulling myself back into reality, I concentrated on the road in front of me, the white lines, the lights, and the cheery voice of the woman giving me directions from the GPS—anything but Nate right now.
By the time I saw the sign for the hospital, I felt beads of sweat gathering along my forehead. I pulled into the first parking spot I saw, flinging the door open, grabbing my purse, and dropping down from the SUV. Clicking the lock button on the fob over my shoulder, I almost ran across to the front entry, coming to a stop at the receptionist sitting at a desk behind a wall of glass with just a small opening for her to hear.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the petite, dark-haired woman asked, peering over her gold-rimmed glasses.
“Nathanial King, I got a phone call,” I panted.
“Okay, calm yourself now while I take a look,” she said as she tapped at the keys on her keyboard and looked at the screen in front of her. After a few moments, she looked back up at me. “Are you family?”
“I’m his wife,” I quickly lied, chewing on my bottom lip as she eyed me coyly for a minute then pointed at the screen.
“Here we are, Nathanial King. He’s still being seen by the ER doctors, but if you take a seat, I will give them a call and see what I can do to get you in to see your husband.”
“Thank you,” I said, giving her a weak smile and sitting down on one of the hard plastic chairs that made up several identical rows. Other anxious strangers waited nervously in the waiting room around me. As a doctor, it felt strange being on this side of the large metal doors. I pulled my phone from my purse, dialed Paxton’s number again, and listened as it went straight to voicemail. With a combination of frustration of not knowing and the stress of driving to the hospital, I felt myself starting to get that cold, familiar feeling in the middle of my chest. It’s hard to explain, but it started as an empty, cold void, which seemed to grow as it pulled all irrational thoughts from me into it, making it gain strength. It was followed by a tight feeling in my lungs that seemed to suck all the oxygen out of my body. Feeling the coldness starting, I pulled my earphones from my purse and pushed the buds into my ears. Connecting them to my phone, I flipped through my playlist, finding Enigma and pressing play. I closed my eyes and started to tame my breathing, matching it to the slow, pulsating beat of the music that started to permeate my brain, until it slowed, and I felt the coldness start to disappear. I visualized the music as patterns to distract me from the visions of Nate laying on a gurney somewhere beyond those doors.