I looked from Rawling to Jimmy and then back to Rawling. They both had strange expressions.
“What?”
“Crawley made one condition of the drop,” Rawling started.
“What’s the condition?”
Jimmy looked at me and I finally understood the panic on his face.
“He wants you to make the drop.”
I stared at Rawling with my mouth hanging open. “What do you mean, Crawley asked for me?”
Sierra spoke up for the first time since the men had arrived.
“Honey,” she explained. “Apparently Parker has been complaining to Shane about you since you blew into town and started investigating him. Crawley, as it turns out, isn’t a stupid man. He figures that Mr. Corbeau would cooperate with the plan if your life is in danger.”
I looked at Jimmy, whose face was etched with worry. He entwined his fingers with mine and lifted my hand to his lips. He brushed a kiss across my knuckles.
“You don’t have to do this, chér.”
“Of course I do. This is Summer’s baby.” My voice almost broke, but I kept up the façade of bravado. “Besides, what could go wrong?”
Purple Knot
37
Bennet and Hopkins processed Jimmy and I out of the police station, and we all rode to Hill House in the FBI van. I paced the foyer and bit my fingernails while we waited for the bank courier to bring the money.
Jimmy stood with his hands in his pockets talking with Agent Rawling.
I jumped at every creak and groan the old house made, expecting Mona to saunter in from a walk. She’d start complaining about dirt on her Persian carpets and attempt to throw everyone out. The thought of the FBI guys scattering almost made me smile. I felt Jimmy’s hands on my shoulders and then he murmured in my ear.
“How are you holding up?”
“How am I doing? How about you? Are you OK?”
He stepped next to me, and we stared out the picture window.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Rain. This ugliness has nearly destroyed everyone in my family.”
“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m sorry I was so hot to nail Parker that I didn’t think about what it would cause.” I rubbed his back.
Jimmy looked down at me sadly. “This was unforeseeable, Rain. I mean, I never saw this coming. Parker brought this on all of us by getting involved with drug dealers.”
“I know but, first Summer and Salem, now…”
I stopped mid-sentence. Salem had been tracking Crawley, had taken the picture the FBI used to identify him. My heart nearly stopped. What if Crawley did something to Salem?
“Rain,” Jimmy said evenly. “I called Maurice and asked him to sit in Salem’s room with his gun.”
I looked up at Jimmy and nearly cried with relief. “Thank you.”
A car turned into the circular driveway and Jimmy hurried to open the door. A man who looked like a night-club bouncer got out, followed by a definite banker-looking guy. The bouncer had a large case handcuffed to his wrist. Behind them, another car pulled up. It was a long black sedan. The window rolled down, and I saw Grayson Evans in the back seat. Jimmy’s whole body tensed and he strode over to the car.
“What are you doing here?” Jimmy yelled.
I was a step behind him, but the agents ran up from behind and pulled Jimmy back. He yanked himself away and stalked back into the house.
I stopped in my tracks and watched Rawling lean into the sedan’s window and then back out. Grayson’s window went back up and Rawling turned away.
Grayson glared at me with those cold blue eyes before the black glass sealed him back in his car.
I followed Rawling back into the house.
Jimmy was talking with the banker, Mr. Hansen.
Hansen had Jimmy sign for the money and then the bouncer, whom Mr. Hansen called Tommy, released the case to Jimmy. Hansen and Tommy settled into the living room.
I guessed they were staying till this was over. I looked through the foyer doors that led into the library and watched Rawling and three other agents tinker with recording equipment. They were getting ready to trace Crawley’s call. Another agent opened the money case and stuck some sort of electronic devices in one of the money bundles and in the lining of the case itself.
The antique clock standing in the room chimed six times, and my stomach flopped.
Rawling motioned for Jimmy and me to join him in the library.
“OK, Mr. Corbeau, we’ll attempt a trace, but the last call was from a throw-away cell phone so we’re going to at least try to triangulate which towers his signal bounces off of.”
Jimmy nodded and took his cell phone from Rawlings. The agents had attached a wire to the back, and it snaked down to the machine on the table.
I gave Jimmy a hopeful smile.
Hansen and Tommy walked over.
We all stood around the table and stared at the phone in Jimmy’s hand, willing it to ring.
It didn’t ring until six minutes later. By then, I was nearly mad with worry.
Jimmy answered it on the third ring, as per Rawling’s advice.
“This is James Corbeau,” he answered.
The phone, on speaker, let the tinny voice of Crawley into the room.
“Say hello to the Feds for me.”
Jimmy looked up at Rawling who made a keep it going motion with his hand.
“You said you have my mother and niece, Crawley,” Jimmy said evenly. “I want proof they’re OK.”
Crawley laughed, a guttural gravelly laugh, and then his voice went cold. “So Parker talked,” he said. “You know who I am.”
My gaze snapped to Rawling. Had Jimmy just made a mistake letting Crawley know we were onto him? The agent’s face remained unreadable.
Jimmy cleared his throat. “I’ve got the money, but I want to talk to my mother.”
“You’ll talk to her when I say you do.” Crawley’s voice was harsh, staccato.
Jimmy gritted his teeth, his head shaking slowly. “No. You put her on the phone or I hang up.”
A moment of silence sent shards of fear cutting through my stomach, but Crawley answered finally. “Five seconds,” he growled.
The phone changed hands scratchily and then Mona’s quivering voice came through Jimmy’s phone. “James? James, is that you?”
Jimmy’s face went red. “Mona, are you OK? Where’s Autumn?”
Crawley’s voice came back. “That’s all you get, Corbeau.”
Jimmy balled his fists his voice taking on an edge. “If you hurt them…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Crawley interrupted. “Listen, is your private-eye girl there?”
Jimmy and Rawling looked at me.
“Uh, yeah I’m here,” I said through a dry mouth. “How do you want to do this?”
Crawley cackled again. “Down to business, I like that. Maybe you and I can have some fun after this is all over.”
“That’s doubtful.” Anger flushed heat into my face.
“Yeah, Parker said you were a snob.” He sounded genuinely offended.
Jimmy’s hand squeezed the phone, and I was afraid it would crumble under the stress.
I tried to keep Crawley talking.
Rawling and the other agents stared at their machine on the table.
“How are we doing this?”
“I want you to take the money and get into your boyfriend’s big, black SUV. Do it alone. Drive to the Westlake Station and wait for my call.”
The call was over before I realized what had happened. I stared at the phone and everyone started talking at once.
Rawling got on his radio and barked orders at the other agents somewhere in the city. The two agents in the room walked out to the front door, and Jimmy shouted at Rawling.
And I stood there staring at the phone as if it would explain what was happening. “What…what are we doing?”
I looked at Rawling. He put his arm out and the agent in charge of the money case slammed the lid shut and
handed it to Rawling. “We get you in the SUV,” he said and propelled me toward the door.
Jimmy stepped in front of us. “She can’t go by herself.”
Rawling shook his head. “She won’t, but we need to comply as quickly as possible. We have two trackers in the case.”
The two agents who left came back in. One nodded to Rawling. “We have a GPS on your SUV as well, Mr. Corbeau. We’ll be watching the whole time.”
Rawling hustled me out the door and shoved me into the driver’s seat while another agent put the money case in the passenger’s seat.
Jimmy leaned in through my window. He tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed me softly. His breath was ragged, his features pulled into a mask of fear.
“Be careful, ma chér,” he breathed.
I nodded and started the engine, desperate to leave before he saw how scared I really was, I drove to the Westlake train station and parked in the lot closest to the building. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot. I couldn’t see any sign of Rawling or Jimmy and the thought of being out of sight made my knees sweat.
“They know what they’re doing,” I told myself out loud. “They know what they’re doing.”
I looked at Jimmy’s phone. It rang as I picked it up.
Crawley’s voice crackled into my ear. “Good girl. Now sit tight.”
He hung up again, and I shook my head frustrated. He must be watching me. I looked around the parking lot again, knowing it was useless but unable to stop all the same. A thought occurred to me. I wasn’t staying in this SUV; that was almost certain. A knock on my window made me yelp. A young kid, maybe fifteen, handed me a canvas gym bag and took off running.
“Hey!”
The bag was big and then it vibrated in my hand and I nearly yelped again. I realized there was a phone in the front pocket. I pulled it out and answered it.
It was Crawley. “Throw Corbeau’s phone and your phone out the window.”
I did what he asked.”OK,now what?”
“Change the money over from the case, to the bag. Take out any ink bombs or trackers. I’m gonna check, so don’t try anything. Bring this phone with you and don’t try to make any calls on it either, me and my buddies are watching you. Once you got the money in the bag, walk to the station and take the South Lake Union train to Union Lake. The train leaves in five minutes.”
He hung up before I could say anything else. I muttered under my breath and ripped open the case. I grabbed the money bundle with the second tracking device, ripped out the little bugger, and shoved it in my jeans pocket. I shoveled the rest of the money into the gym bag and then dragged it out of the car. It was heavy and I struggled as I ran toward the station.
The front pneumatic doors opened with a whoosh and I was off and sprinting toward the platform. I spotted the right train and pushed my way through the crowd onto the last car. Panting, I found a pair of empty seats in the last row. We started to move, and I fought to slow my breathing. I watched the scenery speed past the window. It seemed to take forever.
I wondered if Crawley was on the train, or if he was meeting me there. The need to look around was overwhelming, but I kept my eyes outside. A thousand questions flurried around in my head. Had they seen me get on the train? Had the agents had time to get on board? I sat there silently, bit back tears, and hoped Rawling was following.
The train pulled into the Lake Union station, and I got off the car and walked out onto the platform. My breath came in ragged gasps and I shook from the adrenaline. The phone rang in my hand.
“Go out to the street.”
“What do I do now?” I walked with the phone to my ear.
“Just walk out here.”Crawley sounded amused.
I did and when I looked around my jaw dropped and my stomach lurched. There were motorcycles everywhere. The setting sun flashed peach light off of the shiny paint and chrome.
“Like it?”
“What is going on?”
“Now, Rain, I’m surprised at you,” Crawley teased on the phone. “It’s the Drive for Life.”
It came to me. Every fall the local motorcycle clubs got together for the first leg of a two hundred mile drive to raise money for cancer research. Hundreds of men wearing leather coats and jeans milled around the parking lot. They were all gathered here because Union Lake was the muster point for the entire event. The entire lot was bustling. Tents and table displays lined the sidewalk and there were bounce houses with kids lined up in front of them. My stomach fell. Crawley was not Parker. Crawley was much smarter.
A clean-cut man in a blue suit walked past me and then Crawley’s voice came out of his face. “Follow me,” he said. “And don’t try nothing because my buddies are watching you as we speak.”
Startled, I stared at him. He was unrecognizable from his picture. The beard and long hair were gone and dyed black. The suit and the shave made him look like a businessman.
I followed him to one of the event tents. It was a set up for free chiropractic adjustments. Privacy curtains separated three of the chiropractic tables. The patrons and chiropractors didn’t seem to notice us, but I caught Crawley’s nod at someone in the corner. I followed his gaze and saw Shane Morrison. He shifted from one foot to the other and twitched. He looked ragged.
Anger surged into my throat, and I had to bite my lip. We walked into the last of the privacy curtained areas, then Crawley turned, pulled the curtain shut, and smiled. It was like looking at an alligator grin. “OK, show me the money,” he said.
I heaved the bag on the table and unzipped it. Crawley reached under the table and pulled out a paddle shaped wand. It was the kind airport security used. I stepped back from the table, and he waved the wand over the money bag. I kept my gaze on him and slipped my hand into my pocket. I found the toggle switch and flipped the device off. Crawley then leaned over, waved the wand over me and along my back before shutting it off and putting it under the table again.
“Told you I’d check,” he sneered. He zipped the bag back up and nodded toward the front of the tent. “Now get back on the train.”
My heart rammed in my chest. “Where’s, where’s…”
“You get a call from me when I’m free of this place.”
“No!” I said a little too loudly.
Crawley’s hands flash toward me, but I backed out of his reach.
“You shut up!” He hissed.
“Please, you have the money.”
“What, did you think I was gonna do? Drag the old lady and the baby down here with me?” Crawley grabbed the bag and pulled the strap over his shoulder.
“Please,” I begged and reached for the bag. “Please, just give them back to us.”
“I said, you’ll get a call,” he snarled.
He yanked the bag away and shoved me back in one motion. I fell over a metal folding chair and went down on my side. Pain flashed through my elbow and I cried out.
Crawley lunged for me.
Shane pulled back the curtain, his eyes wide with fear. “I see them, I see the Feds!”
“Did they see us?”
“I don’t know,” Shane cried. “I don’t know!”
Crawley growled and grabbed me by the hair, yanking me to my feet. I cried out and saw one of the chiropractors turned to look at us through the curtain. Stunned, I tried to struggle with Crawley but his grip on my hair was sending spikes of fire through my scalp. “Let me go!” I yelled. “Help!”
“Hey, what’s going on?” the chiropractor yelled, and strode toward us.
Crawley moved so fast I didn’t know what was happening until the barrel of the gun was up against my temple.
“Whoa,” the chiropractor froze.
Frantic I struggled in Crawley’s arms.
“Settle down!” he grunted. He shoved the barrel hard against my skin and sent a blinding pain along my cheek.
“OK, OK,” I breathed and stopped moving.
“Now we’re getting out of here,” he said evenly. “Shane, go get the
car!”
Shane ran out of the tent and Crawley backed out of the tent using me as a shield.
I pled silently with the chiropractor to call the police, but he just stood rooted to the floor, his hands up in the surrender position. He was sweating so much he was fogging up his glasses.
“Just come with me nice and quiet, and we’ll see about leaving that pretty face intact,” Crawley breathed in my ear.
My stomach lurched.
Behind us, a car skidded to a stop. Shane got out of the driver’s seat, ran over to us, and yanked open the back door. Crawley threw me into the back seat and got in after me.
I crawled on my knees toward the opposite door, got my hand on the handle, and yanked on it before a terrible pain spiked across the back of my head and everything went black.
Purple Knot
38
The sound of metal scraping across the floor pulled me back from the stupor, and I awoke to the bitter smell of almonds. Confused, I lolled my head to the side and tried to look around. Pain slashed across the back of my head. I moaned and fought back the urge to throw up. Slowly I opened my eyes. I was tied to an old wood chair in a dimly lit bedroom. I looked around in the limited light. Water stains ran along the popcorn ceiling and grime caked the windows so thickly that only muted light made it through. The house, an old one from the smell, was big. It reminded me of an old farmhouse.
Another scraping sound pulled my eyes to the partially open door. I could see Crawley moving around in the living room. He grunted as he pushed a table piled with packages. I startled at a muffled sound next to me. When I looked down I saw Mona on the floor against the wall. She was sitting with her legs crossed and her hands tied behind her. Crawley had put duct tape over her mouth. She looked at me with terrified eyes and wiggled her head.
Not understanding, I followed her gaze.
Autumn lay on a pile of dirty towels next to her. She wasn’t moving.
Cold panic wrapped spindly fingers around my throat. I couldn’t breathe.
Then she twitched ever so slightly. Her little mouth twisted and my heart soared. She was alive.
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