by ANDREA SMITH
CHAPTER 50
It was the third week of August. God, I was so ready for summer to be over. The only bad part about fall was that Lindsey would be leaving to go back to Cornell. She had been staying with my parents; apparently, she had met a nice, young man at the swimming pool where my parents lived. I had met him briefly at her birthday celebration. His name was Adam; he was a sophomore at Indiana University and as cute as could be. I could see that Lindsey was smitten; she was in no hurry to come back home.
I was sitting at the kitchen counter going over bills when I saw one addressed to Jack. On the outside of the envelope it was stamped ‘Past Due’ in red. The return address was a storage rental facility in Fort Wayne. I slit the envelope open and pulled the piece of paper out. It was a letter basically stating that the checking account that had been used for automatic payments had insufficient funds. As co-signer for Susanne Reynard, the responsibility for payment was being transferred to Jack.
(What the hell?)
The bill was for a refrigerated unit. July’s balance (which had been due on the 15th) was past due; the charges for August were due now. The total amount due with late charges was $365. Evidently Susanne had cleared out her account as well, when they fled.
I looked at my watch. Shit! I was going to be late for my appointment with Dr. Bailey if I didn’t get a move on it. Slate had left early; he said he would do everything in his power to meet me at Dr. Bailey’s. I made him promise not to embarrass me this time.
I set the alarm and locked up. It was a twenty-five minute drive to the doctor’s office. If I didn’t run into major traffic, I would make it.
I was five minutes into the drive on the county road leading to the interstate when I saw Slate’s black pick-up suddenly on my bumper when I glanced in the side mirror. He was flashing his lights on and off, waving me over.
(Shit - what the hell was going on now?)
I pulled over to the side of the road. The front bumper of his truck had to be practically touching the back bumper of my Mercedes. I hit the button to lower my window as he came rushing up to the driver’s side. Too late I realized it wasn’t Slate; it was Slash.
Panic set in immediately as I tried to power the window back up. Too late; my door flew open and Slash pulled me roughly from the car.
“Come on bitch,” he sneered, “You and I are taking a ride. We have some things to discuss.”
Someone else had jumped from Slate’s truck and was now in the backseat of my car. Slash opened the rear passenger door on the driver’s side and pushed me in, slamming the door quickly and jumping into the driver’s seat.
He peeled back out onto the road as the passenger in the seat beside me gave a toothless grin. He nodded toward his hand; my eyes followed as I saw what he wanted me to see: a revolver pointed directly at my baby bump.
“Hey, sorry for not making the proper introductions back there,” Slash yelled from the front seat.
“Darrell, this here is Diamond, Mr. Big’s old lady.”
“Is that right?” Darrell said with a cocky smirk, his eyes boring into me. “You mean Slate’s whore?”
“Yeah - that too,” Slash replied. “She’s gonna be helping us out today if she has plans on seeing tomorrow.”
Somewhere - and I’m not sure where, but I suddenly was filled with rage and fury. How dare they kidnap and threaten me. How dare that asshole point that gun towards my baby? I lashed out.
“You motherfuckers better not lay one finger on me; I swear on all that is precious, you are dead fucking meat!”
Somehow I hadn’t managed to pull it off. I felt the butt of Darrell’s gun slam against the side of my head; everything went black.
CHAPTER 51
When my eyes finally opened, they opened to darkness. I knew that it wasn’t nighttime yet because wherever I was, there was still sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the wooden planks. It looked to be some kind of a barn. It was hot, sticky and the air was thick with humidity.
My head was pounding; I felt beads of perspiration trickling down my face and back. My hair was damp, clinging to the back of my neck. I would have given anything for a cool breeze at the moment. My hands were tied behind my back; my ankles were tied together. The rough rope was digging into the skin on my wrists and ankles.
I looked around, my eyes adjusting to the darkness within. I saw my Mercedes parked over in front of a wide sliding barn door that was shut at the moment. My captors were nowhere around at the moment. I needed to clear my head, to think survival. That is what Slate would tell me to do.
I suddenly became emotional; would I ever see Slate again? Or Lindsey? Or my parents? What did these thugs have planned? How was it I was expected to help them? Did anyone even know that I was missing yet? I had way more questions that I had answers. The sound of a squeaky door opening and the light that filtered in with it told me that I was about to get a few answers.
Slash and Darrell sauntered over to where I was sitting on a pile of straw in front of a long wooden crate of some sort. They took a seat on the crate, drinking from their water bottles. It reminded me of how thirsty I was at the moment.
“Well, what do you think, Darrell? You think Diamond there has been hog-tied and left in this sauna long enough she might be a bit more cooperative with us?”
“Guess we better ask her man.”
“What is it you two want from me?” I hissed, “I had nothing to do with whatever it was Jack was doing.”
“We know that,” Slash said, taking another swig, “But we also know that Mr. Big left in quite a hurry. He didn’t have a chance to wrap things up at the house, you know what I mean?”
“Not really,” I replied.
“Well, let me make it simple for you, Diamond. We bought something from Mr. Big the day before he booked out of town; paid his fuck buddy ‘Suzy-Q’ cash on the barrel for it. It was a joint effort with two other chapters so there’s quite a bit of money involved you see. Now here’s our problem. The day they split, Suzy-Q never showed up with the key or provided the password needed to get our goods. I’m betting that info is at your house.”
“Are you the ones that tried to break in last month?”
“Yeah - unfortunately that fucking computer we grabbed didn’t have a damn bit of information on it. So we need that information from you little lady.”
“I have no clue about any key - I swear to God. How do you know that information hasn’t already been uncovered by the Feds?”
“You’re fucking a 'Fed', darlin’ - if it had been found, you would be telling me that instead of asking me that, right?”
“No,” I replied angrily, “Slate doesn’t tell me shit. That’s the truth.”
“Well we’re going to see about that,” Darrell said, pulling my cell phone out of my purse. I watched as he slid the battery back on. He powered it on and pulled up ‘G-Man’s number from my address book. He sent Slate a text from my cell telling him to answer the next phone call he received. He powered the phone off, removing the battery once again and slipping it into his pocket.
Slash untied my wrists. I massaged them with my fingers to get the circulation going. My fingers felt numb.
Darrell pulled a track phone from his shirt pocket, punching in Slate’s cell phone number. Before he hit the ‘send’ button he instructed me on what to say. Again the gun was flashed in front of me.
I nodded as he handed me the phone.
“Sammie,” he said, his voice strained.
“Slate - listen to me please. Jack was in possession of a key and a password. Susanne was to give it to her contacts at OMC the day they split. You have to tell me the truth - has this been found in any of the stuff the Feds found at Banion during their search?”
“No,” he said, “I am being honest with you here; nothing has been uncovered that sounds at all like what you are describing. Are you okay baby?”
“I’m fine Slate; but I won’t be if I can’t help these guys. They are not going to release me unti
l you show up with the key. They mean business, Slate.
“Tell me where to look, Sammie.”
My mind was racing; I had to think like Jack at the moment. “Give me a second,” I said, covering the mic on the phone.
“When and where was Susanne supposed to meet to turn over the key?”
“Seven p.m. sharp at the corner of Eastern and Sixteenth.”
That was near the gym where Jack worked out daily either before or after work. That was where he had told Lindsey he was going after work. He had then called me later on his way to the airport. He had a locker there at the gym.
“Slate,” I said, “You need to go to Sporty’s Gym on Baxter Avenue; Jack has a membership there. You need to get into his locker. If he wanted to hide something that is the only place I can think of where he might put it.”
“Let me talk to Slash,” he said. I handed the phone to Slash.
Slash held the phone to his ear, rolling his eyes and grinning.
“You aren’t in a position to threaten me at the moment, asshole. Just think about this while you’re deciding whether being a Fed means more to you than seeing your baby born: I have nothing to lose if I get popped. I’m already going to serve more years than I have left on this planet. It wouldn’t bother me one bit to add murder to the list. You involve anyone else and it’s ‘bye bye’ to Diamond. You have one hour before we call back. Let’s hope your little scavenger hunt goes well.”
Slash ended the call and turned to me.
“You better hope your dude cares about you more than his career; he can’t have both.”
Darrell squatted down and tied my hands behind my back once more; then the two bikers exited the barn. I felt the tears well up hoping that my hunch was correct; and praying that Slate did care more about me than his career.
The puzzle finally fit. The key was to the storage locker in Fort Wayne; the password was probably for the electronic gate that allowed access to the premises. They didn’t know that I knew the location only because of the past due bill that had arrived in the mail just today.
How had they gotten Slate’s truck? How would Slate get to the gym without his truck? I wondered where Slate was when I had called him. I didn’t dare ask any or say anything other than what they instructed; I was sick of having that revolver waved in front of me.
This hour would probably be the longest of my life; perhaps it would be the last hour of my life. . .
CHAPTER 52
(SLATE)
The call ended with a simple click. Fuck! That son of a bitch had better not touch a hair on her head. How had this happened? How had I let some low-life mother fucker like Slash get over on me? I had been so freaking careful!
I knew immediately something was up when Sammie hadn’t made her doctor’s appointment that afternoon. I had tried calling her cell phone a dozen times. It was turned off.
I had raced from the doctor’s office to her house in my truck, breaking the speed limit the whole way. I had noticed a pick-up truck just like mine parked by the side of the road a couple of miles from her house. I stopped and called the plate number in to the locals. It had been reported stolen that morning. That is when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
When I arrived at her house I used my key; the doors were locked, the alarm had been set. I checked every room in the house and the garage. Her car was gone, so was she. I checked the camera video on the computer. The only activity was her leaving for the doctor’s appointment at 2:12 p.m. She had been running a little late it seemed for a 2:30 p.m. appointment.
I had sat down at the bar in the kitchen to try and get a handle on the situation; that is when my phone beeped that I had a text message. It was Sammie. I breathed a sigh of relief until I read the text. Several minutes later my cell phone rang. The caller I.D. was from Missouri; some fucking track phone. It was then I realized that Slash had gotten to her.
I listened to the message that Slash had instructed her to give me. The whole time, I was trying to figure out where she could be. I absently flipped through the mail she had thrown on the kitchen counter. I listened to her instructions and then asked her to put Slash on the phone.
The mother fucker knew he had the power at the moment and so did I. I listened to him yammer on as I picked up one of the envelopes that Sammie must have opened. It was a past due bill that was addressed to the rat bastard. The letter folded up next to it told me exactly what type of key Slash was looking to find. It was why he had attempted the break-in a few weeks back; a deal gone bad apparently.
What kind of a stupid fuck doesn’t pay a storage fee?
(Probably one that already has the money in hand and is now on the run.)
I was glad it hadn’t been paid; I now knew where the goods from the deal gone bad were located.
I got into my truck and hauled ass to the gym. There was a young chick working the desk. I put on the charm and showed her my badge, explaining that I needed to get into Jack Dennison’s locker; that he was a fugitive from justice. She started some shit about a search warrant being needed; I told her she watched too much television, federal agents didn’t need search warrants, only local authorities. She bought the story and got the master key for me.
Once inside his locker, I emptied his gym bag out and there it was; a small envelope containing a key. There was a piece of paper wrapped around the key that had a pass code written on it. More than likely, the pass code activated the electronic gate on the premises.
I took his gym bag with the rest of his stuff in it and headed out. I had another twenty minutes before I would get the next call; I got on my phone and called Taz. I needed his help; I trusted him more than anyone.
The call back came in exactly one hour to the minute later. It was Slash.
“So is your Betty in luck, Slate?”
“I have the fucking key, Delbert,” I said, putting the emphasis on his given name. I guess if I had been named ‘Delbert’ a name like ‘Slash’ would have suited me better too.
“Fuck you pig,” he sneered, “You don’t want to piss me off when I have your girl here no farther away than my hardened dick, right?”
My blood boiled at the thought of that piece of shit slime ball touching her. I needed to keep my cool for her.
“What’s the deal, Slash? I give you the key; you give me Sammie?”
“Not quite, Slate. There’s a matter of trust here - or should I say, ‘mistrust’? Here is how this is going to go down. I will give you a drop off location for the key which I presume has a password with it?”
“Yep,” I answered stiffly.
“Okay. Once we determine that no other feds or locals are involved and we collect the goods without incident, you will get a phone call giving you the location on where you can hook up with your girl.”
“What makes you think I trust you?”
“You really have no choice, dude.”
I wasn’t sure when Slash said ‘we’ how many others that meant.
“Don’t worry about her, Slate. I’m going to be right here with her the whole time; making sure she is safe and doesn’t get frightened in the dark. Once the others give me the all clear, I will be in touch with you letting you know where you can find her, got it?”
“Let me talk to her first.”
I heard some muffled conversation, then Sammie’s voice on the other end.
“Slate - did you find it?”
“I sure did, baby. You did really well. I’m going to do everything he wants so that you are safe. Do you trust me?”
“You know that I do.”
“That’s my girl. Just hang tight and don’t do anything to piss them off, okay?”
“Yep,” she said with a tired sigh.
“I love you Sammie.”
“I know you do, Slate.”
Slash got back on the phone giving me instructions on where to drop the envelope with the key inside. It was about sixty minutes from Indianapolis. I told him I was leaving now. He said he would check m
y progress in an hour.
CHAPTER 53
(SLATE)
I was on schedule for the drop off. I was about fifteen miles from the designated drop off location. My cell phone rang; it was Taz.
“Everything is in place in Fort Wayne,” he confirmed. “We have plain clothes local officers and U.S. Marshalls. The owner of the storage facility has opened up the empty storage locker next to the one that Susanne rented. They are stationed inside ready and waiting.”
“Great job,” I said. I never had to worry about Taz fucking up. He always came through. “What about Garnet?”
“She’s in the car sitting next to me. A bit reluctant but I used my powers of persuasion to get her on board.”
If I hadn’t been so concerned about Sammie, I would have found a bit of humor in that; Taz had evidently let her blow him; always the trooper, that one.
“Does she have any idea where they might be holed up?”
“Given the location of the drop off point and its proximity to Fort Wayne she is pretty sure that it’s an old deserted farm that the bikers used to rent in the fall for their annual ‘bike in’. It’s near Kokomo.”
“My drop off point is just south of Marian,” I said. I’m ten minutes away. Where are you?”
“We’re on Route 31; she thinks she might be able to remember the location once we get near Kokomo. It’s all we’ve got brother.”
“Keep with it, Taz; I will be back in touch as soon as I complete the drop.”
My cell phone rang about thirty seconds later. It was Slash asking my current location. I told him; he then gave me turn by turn locations to the exact point of drop off. I followed his directions, reporting various landmarks and intersections back to him so that he knew I was following his instructions. He must know this area fairly well.
I finally reached a residential neighborhood as guided by him. There was an elementary school on the right. I was to drop the envelope off outside of camera range at the edge of parking lot. There was a brick near the sidewalk; I was to put it underneath the brick and drive away. He informed me that he had people watching.